I do sometimes wonder how many of your prompts link together. You're regretting something to do with the moon? Which suggests you have silver bullets and a werewolf on the loose, which is upsetting the local night-birds and so upsetting you? Maybe?
Moon "How did it go with your HR Director?" Dread hesitated a fraction before the word Director and then plunged on anyway. "Manager," said Fabian. "Don't give her a chance for any more airs and graces than she has already, thank-you. She reminds me of my ex-wife sometimes the way she sees a centimetre and takes a metre." The two men were sat on an elevated terrace at a small table with Rystin. There were drinks in front of all of them and, although Rystin had been told several times by Dread and by a passing Admiral, that he was welcome here as himself, the rust-elf was hunched in on himself and kept glancing around as though expecting the Civil Militia to emerge from the shadows with nets and guns. "How is she, by the way?" asked Dread. His peal of laughter at Fabian's pained expression made Rystin sit up straight and puzzlement twisted his face into something endearing. "Hopefully she's hard at work paving the road with good intentions," said Fabian a little more acidly than he'd intended. "I hear there's a welcoming committee for her at the end when she's done." Dread contined to laugh and Rystin, looking ever more puzzled, opened his mouth. Dread leaned forward, still laughing, and patted his shoulder. "Don't ask," he said. "You had to be there." Overhead the moon, almost full, was now high enough to be making the roofs of the Imperial buildings glitter as though coated with diamond dust. It was an odd property of the Cavetoum stone that was used on the biggest, most important buildings, and not many people in the Empire had access to heights where you could see it. Fabian sighed. "I like the moonglitter," he said, pointing it out to Rystin. "It's like snow; you see it and it sort of calms you, soothes your soul." "Threatens avalanches and kills people with no access to heat," said Dread, sounding innocent. Fabian glared at him. "What?"
"It's a night for magic," said Rystin looking over the rooftops. "Wisp-elf magic." When there was only silence he turned back to the other two men, who were both gazing at him as though he were a dog about to do a trick. "What did I say?" he asked, his hands suddenly shaky with nerves. He clenched his stomach muscle and breathed in deeply, tensing his whole core to control the shakes. "Magic is why we wanted to talk to you," said Fabian. He twisted his glass this way and that on the table. "You know a fair bit abo--" "The point he's not getting to," said Dread, who picked his own glass up, "is that I know a lot about human magic, and something about cthonic magic, but you're the expert on elf-magic here and we'd be mad not to borrow some of your expertise. If you'll share it, that is." "Of course," said Rystin. He relaxed a little. "This is about the figurines then?" "Not really," said Fabian. There was a pause and then he looked at Dread. "I figured you'd interrupt again." "Fine. Have you heard of the Staff of Five Elements?" Rystin's shakes returned so fast and so violently that he couldn't quite control them and his drink slopped over the rim of his glass and his fingers. He barely noticed, just setting his glass down and pushing his chair slightly back. "That's a powerful magic item," he said, his voice quavering on the first word but then firming up. "The elves haven't got anything like that. If we did -- if it was thought we did, there'd be an... extermination." "Hecatomb," said Dread. Both the elf and the man looked at him blankly. "Fine, mass murder. It's a little more nuanced, but hecatombs are in the history books." He paused. "Which is not a good thing, but I think it's better there than erased and not talked about." "The staff is the key to the Halls of Sunset," said Fabian. "Oh, by the way, you're not to talk about this with anyone other than us." "Bit late for that," said Dread with just a hint of dryness. "Though frankly I think Rystin's going to trying to forget everything we've said all night now." "Yes," said Rystin. "So that's why we're here? Because the staff has to be charged under a full moon and you want to know how to do it?" Fabian and Dread exchanged a glance and Fabian leaned forward while Dread drained the last of his drink. "What now?"
3 comments:
I do sometimes wonder how many of your prompts link together. You're regretting something to do with the moon? Which suggests you have silver bullets and a werewolf on the loose, which is upsetting the local night-birds and so upsetting you? Maybe?
Moon
"How did it go with your HR Director?" Dread hesitated a fraction before the word Director and then plunged on anyway.
"Manager," said Fabian. "Don't give her a chance for any more airs and graces than she has already, thank-you. She reminds me of my ex-wife sometimes the way she sees a centimetre and takes a metre."
The two men were sat on an elevated terrace at a small table with Rystin. There were drinks in front of all of them and, although Rystin had been told several times by Dread and by a passing Admiral, that he was welcome here as himself, the rust-elf was hunched in on himself and kept glancing around as though expecting the Civil Militia to emerge from the shadows with nets and guns.
"How is she, by the way?" asked Dread. His peal of laughter at Fabian's pained expression made Rystin sit up straight and puzzlement twisted his face into something endearing.
"Hopefully she's hard at work paving the road with good intentions," said Fabian a little more acidly than he'd intended. "I hear there's a welcoming committee for her at the end when she's done."
Dread contined to laugh and Rystin, looking ever more puzzled, opened his mouth. Dread leaned forward, still laughing, and patted his shoulder. "Don't ask," he said. "You had to be there."
Overhead the moon, almost full, was now high enough to be making the roofs of the Imperial buildings glitter as though coated with diamond dust. It was an odd property of the Cavetoum stone that was used on the biggest, most important buildings, and not many people in the Empire had access to heights where you could see it. Fabian sighed. "I like the moonglitter," he said, pointing it out to Rystin. "It's like snow; you see it and it sort of calms you, soothes your soul."
"Threatens avalanches and kills people with no access to heat," said Dread, sounding innocent. Fabian glared at him. "What?"
"It's a night for magic," said Rystin looking over the rooftops. "Wisp-elf magic."
When there was only silence he turned back to the other two men, who were both gazing at him as though he were a dog about to do a trick. "What did I say?" he asked, his hands suddenly shaky with nerves. He clenched his stomach muscle and breathed in deeply, tensing his whole core to control the shakes.
"Magic is why we wanted to talk to you," said Fabian. He twisted his glass this way and that on the table. "You know a fair bit abo--"
"The point he's not getting to," said Dread, who picked his own glass up, "is that I know a lot about human magic, and something about cthonic magic, but you're the expert on elf-magic here and we'd be mad not to borrow some of your expertise. If you'll share it, that is."
"Of course," said Rystin. He relaxed a little. "This is about the figurines then?"
"Not really," said Fabian. There was a pause and then he looked at Dread. "I figured you'd interrupt again."
"Fine. Have you heard of the Staff of Five Elements?"
Rystin's shakes returned so fast and so violently that he couldn't quite control them and his drink slopped over the rim of his glass and his fingers. He barely noticed, just setting his glass down and pushing his chair slightly back.
"That's a powerful magic item," he said, his voice quavering on the first word but then firming up. "The elves haven't got anything like that. If we did -- if it was thought we did, there'd be an... extermination."
"Hecatomb," said Dread. Both the elf and the man looked at him blankly. "Fine, mass murder. It's a little more nuanced, but hecatombs are in the history books." He paused. "Which is not a good thing, but I think it's better there than erased and not talked about."
"The staff is the key to the Halls of Sunset," said Fabian. "Oh, by the way, you're not to talk about this with anyone other than us."
"Bit late for that," said Dread with just a hint of dryness. "Though frankly I think Rystin's going to trying to forget everything we've said all night now."
"Yes," said Rystin. "So that's why we're here? Because the staff has to be charged under a full moon and you want to know how to do it?"
Fabian and Dread exchanged a glance and Fabian leaned forward while Dread drained the last of his drink. "What now?"
Greg - I really ought to just take a week and select the most random prompts I can think of, just to see how you manage to link them all together.
These three together are quite the intriguing combination. I can tell you had fun writing this :)
Post a Comment