Galene
13-03-2008, 06:41
He walked quickly down the dimly light hallway. Obviously well heeled the man stood at just shy of six feet. His collared shirt was crisp and his pants comfortable yet dressy. He reached into the breast pocket of his coat to remove a small golden signet ring. Barely a glance at his hand a practiced motion left the plain gold band snuggly on a section of flesh which did not bear the same amount of wear as the rest of his sun kissed skin. His lips parted and he began to speak, but words did not form. He continued, as if unaware that his lips even attempt sound.
The hallway opened into a large circular room with a gaping hole in the ceiling. A warm rain was beginning to drizzle down from the clear sky. The room was a historic site, off limits to all but a few. Archeological experts had dated this building’s construction to a time when Rome ruled the small island, but these same experts could not explain the soil samples that had been brought up recently; samples which hinted at pottery, tools, and perhaps even another building which predated the Roman era.
This man however cared not for the experts wrangling. He had been coming here since he was a child; a tradition of his father’s and his father’s father before him. Normally he would not come without the others, but tonight was special and the others could not be convened. He’d been called earlier in the morning – told that the signs had manifested – that the others were disagreement. He was the closest and his word was beyond doubt. And so he was dispatched.
The rain and wind seemed to pick up – nature battered at the gutted building. A storm was building, but he stood amidst it nary a hair astray. He clasped his hands comfortably in front of himself and waited. As the winds picked up and the rain began to strike the stone so hard that it began to bounce upwards he still stood, awaiting the signs.
Coming to gale force the storm battered the room but the man did not do so much as to lift a finger. He stood, as if to await something. As the winds picked up and the rain began to seem more like a liquid sheer – driving from heaven the man looked up at the eerily clear sky.
“I’ve come to find the answers I seek. The signs have presented themselves.” In response lightning seemed to arc from the corner of his vision to no where in particular. “Has there once again been born onto us a conduit?” The man looked up at the sky for sometime before shouting something in a strange language – a language no longer spoken in contemporary Galene. Coincidently it was at that moment that thunder rocked the hills surrounding the building – echoing in a cacophonous roar. The man winced and when his eyes opened he saw that the rain had stopped. Looking down however, he watched as the dust settled into place, the wind which had propelled it dying down. Watching the queer patterns form he nods, grim but excited. Then with an almost reverent nod to the dust he was gone.
The hallway once again echoed with his leather shoe strikes. The ring was slipped back into his pocket as he ordered his thoughts. A new conduit he thought to himself as he made his way to his car. Perhaps now, perhaps, we could finally learn again, see it all again. The man shook his head – the sound of his automatic car starter bringing him to earth once again. There would be precautions to be sure,… steps and measures that would need to be taken. He slipped the keys into the ignition of his car, turning it to the on position. Picking up the cell phone he made a call to one of the others….
(OOC: I wanted to bring a tinge of supernatural into this story, depending on how it turns out we will see if I keep the idea going. More later.)
The hallway opened into a large circular room with a gaping hole in the ceiling. A warm rain was beginning to drizzle down from the clear sky. The room was a historic site, off limits to all but a few. Archeological experts had dated this building’s construction to a time when Rome ruled the small island, but these same experts could not explain the soil samples that had been brought up recently; samples which hinted at pottery, tools, and perhaps even another building which predated the Roman era.
This man however cared not for the experts wrangling. He had been coming here since he was a child; a tradition of his father’s and his father’s father before him. Normally he would not come without the others, but tonight was special and the others could not be convened. He’d been called earlier in the morning – told that the signs had manifested – that the others were disagreement. He was the closest and his word was beyond doubt. And so he was dispatched.
The rain and wind seemed to pick up – nature battered at the gutted building. A storm was building, but he stood amidst it nary a hair astray. He clasped his hands comfortably in front of himself and waited. As the winds picked up and the rain began to strike the stone so hard that it began to bounce upwards he still stood, awaiting the signs.
Coming to gale force the storm battered the room but the man did not do so much as to lift a finger. He stood, as if to await something. As the winds picked up and the rain began to seem more like a liquid sheer – driving from heaven the man looked up at the eerily clear sky.
“I’ve come to find the answers I seek. The signs have presented themselves.” In response lightning seemed to arc from the corner of his vision to no where in particular. “Has there once again been born onto us a conduit?” The man looked up at the sky for sometime before shouting something in a strange language – a language no longer spoken in contemporary Galene. Coincidently it was at that moment that thunder rocked the hills surrounding the building – echoing in a cacophonous roar. The man winced and when his eyes opened he saw that the rain had stopped. Looking down however, he watched as the dust settled into place, the wind which had propelled it dying down. Watching the queer patterns form he nods, grim but excited. Then with an almost reverent nod to the dust he was gone.
The hallway once again echoed with his leather shoe strikes. The ring was slipped back into his pocket as he ordered his thoughts. A new conduit he thought to himself as he made his way to his car. Perhaps now, perhaps, we could finally learn again, see it all again. The man shook his head – the sound of his automatic car starter bringing him to earth once again. There would be precautions to be sure,… steps and measures that would need to be taken. He slipped the keys into the ignition of his car, turning it to the on position. Picking up the cell phone he made a call to one of the others….
(OOC: I wanted to bring a tinge of supernatural into this story, depending on how it turns out we will see if I keep the idea going. More later.)