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As he wakes his path is clear before him again. It is time to leave this hovel now, and this land as well. First he must make his goodbye's to those he calls friend and lover. After preforming his morning prayers as he has for months he sets off to take care of unfinished business.
His day progresses...
First a stop in a tavern for breakfast and to write the letter, he hopes will reach her though a third party. Then to the Arbiters Stand to finish cutting the lumber he has acquired and meet the one who will carry the letter.
Next a trip to the temple of Waukeen to have his accounts forwarded to the temple near the family home in Amn. Some other quick stops are made at various shops as he either sells excess goods and equipment before a final stop at the trading post rather late in the evening.
Leaving the trading post, he stops to look at the huge bonfire that has replaced the normal cook fire that usually sits in the center of the benches. Looking around he spots one or two familiar faces, but no one he considers it necessary to inform of his departure.
He sighs to himself as he realizes there are still one or two small things he wants from his hovel and checking the sun he realizes it will be too dark and late to take refuge in the ports inn this night. He resigns himself to spending one more night in the hovel and set off for the Viridale, not realizing that he has been spotted by her, she who could pass through the camp unseen.
Unseen by most, but not unseen by another, a hunter.
At the Viridale he stops to slip into his chain mail and is surprised when he looks up and sees her. Armor forgotten, he smiles and steps forward, wanting to embrace her at her hesitant greeting. To scared to touch her yet, he pulls out a pad of paper and starts to write her several long notes when their reunion is interrupted by the hunter.
She and the hunter exchange words.
A call to surrender.
Rejected.
Before he can react the two charge each other and clash and she is swiftly over come, rendered senseless and helpless on the ground.
He steps forward in a rage standing over his love, blood rushing pounding in his ears make him nearly deaf to the hunters words. Words he knows are most probably true, but his love and hope for her override what he would normally perceive as justice.
He refuses to yield his ground to the hunter and in fact steps forward as the hunter does, axe and sword clash, and clash again before the axe goes flying from his grasp.
Stepping back he reaches for his throwing axes, hin accuracy comes into play but the blade is defected by armors both mundane and arcane and falls to the ground between them where he stumbles over it as he tries to step around for another throw. The stumble and resulting position surprises the hunter who can not check his swing in time and the hin fails to see the blow coming.
Seen or not it would have rendered him as senseless as his love, instead, because of the misstep, it is fatal.
His day progresses...
First a stop in a tavern for breakfast and to write the letter, he hopes will reach her though a third party. Then to the Arbiters Stand to finish cutting the lumber he has acquired and meet the one who will carry the letter.
Next a trip to the temple of Waukeen to have his accounts forwarded to the temple near the family home in Amn. Some other quick stops are made at various shops as he either sells excess goods and equipment before a final stop at the trading post rather late in the evening.
Leaving the trading post, he stops to look at the huge bonfire that has replaced the normal cook fire that usually sits in the center of the benches. Looking around he spots one or two familiar faces, but no one he considers it necessary to inform of his departure.
He sighs to himself as he realizes there are still one or two small things he wants from his hovel and checking the sun he realizes it will be too dark and late to take refuge in the ports inn this night. He resigns himself to spending one more night in the hovel and set off for the Viridale, not realizing that he has been spotted by her, she who could pass through the camp unseen.
Unseen by most, but not unseen by another, a hunter.
At the Viridale he stops to slip into his chain mail and is surprised when he looks up and sees her. Armor forgotten, he smiles and steps forward, wanting to embrace her at her hesitant greeting. To scared to touch her yet, he pulls out a pad of paper and starts to write her several long notes when their reunion is interrupted by the hunter.
She and the hunter exchange words.
A call to surrender.
Rejected.
Before he can react the two charge each other and clash and she is swiftly over come, rendered senseless and helpless on the ground.
He steps forward in a rage standing over his love, blood rushing pounding in his ears make him nearly deaf to the hunters words. Words he knows are most probably true, but his love and hope for her override what he would normally perceive as justice.
He refuses to yield his ground to the hunter and in fact steps forward as the hunter does, axe and sword clash, and clash again before the axe goes flying from his grasp.
Stepping back he reaches for his throwing axes, hin accuracy comes into play but the blade is defected by armors both mundane and arcane and falls to the ground between them where he stumbles over it as he tries to step around for another throw. The stumble and resulting position surprises the hunter who can not check his swing in time and the hin fails to see the blow coming.
Seen or not it would have rendered him as senseless as his love, instead, because of the misstep, it is fatal.