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Thread: Scarborough (Esper & Taiylor)

  1. #1
    I'm Just Taiylor Taiylor Wallace's Avatar
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    Scarborough (Esper & Taiylor)

    Where... am I?
    ...
    Your eyes open to the blue sky, dotted with wispy white clouds in swirling patterns. The air smells of grass, of fresh, untouched earth, and of nature itself. Nothing like the gas, the fumes, and the smoke of the city you were in- which felt like only seconds ago- and certainly nothing like anything you'd ever smelled before. And to see the clear sky, unframed by skyscrapers and free of planes and smog... it was gorgeous. But how? After all, you'd been inside only a moment ago... In an old, decrepit library that was selling all its books so that the old woman who owned it could retire at age 80. The poor woman had only been hanging on by a thread, and even with the money from the books, she'd never make it a whole year, even if she survived that long in her illnesses.
    ...
    You'd gone to the library from your apartment in Boston, where you and your three roomates lived in relative harmony amidst the concrete jungle. You'd heard that the old lady needed the money, that the library was required to be destroyed as it was falling apart. You took pity, and went to buy a book on your meager college-kid-budget, and you'd found an old leatherbound beauty with silver leaf letters that read: Andenomaya. You didn't even have to look inside the book to know this was the one you wanted. When you brought it to the old woman, she nearly cried as she had at having to sell all the other books, but this one really hit her hard. She smiled though, that you would take an old tome that, the old woman said, "... no one's read that old thing since, oh, let me think back... Almost 1950. That was when I last read it, I couldn't put it down." She hoped you'd take care of it, and gave you a good price. You went on your way.
    ...
    You got home and forgot about the dusty old volume until your spunky female roomate, Dana Burke, was digging through your bag (she had no sense of personal property) and found it. She blabbered about it and how pretty it was, but she never read it. But now that you remembered it... you decided to set aside a Saturday when your three roomates were all gone, to read it.
    ...
    It took a month for that to happen, and by then, you were excited to see what this Andenomaya held.
    ...
    You settled on the couch, only the distant hum of traffic in the streets and your stereo on low for sound, and you opened to the first page... And it was a journal. You'd bought someone's journal from the library. It looked ancient, though, probably three times as old as the woman who'd sold it to you. It looked like it should've been in a museum, not your college-kid apartment. Even so, you couldn't help looking to the clear cursive handwriting on the first pages.
    ...
    This journal is the property of Kalabar Andenomaya IX. Whoever reads this once it is finished, know that you are about to go on a journey with me in a grand place called Strahlholm. And know as well that, though many things in this story may seem fantastical to you... it is all completely and wholly true and unexaggerated...
    ...
    You spent the rest of the evening reading about this Kalabar, who was a young man at the time, a weak young page of sixteen, and his lord knight, Sir Harlo. They traveled far and wide, and gathered a whole posse of allies. One, a berserker axeman called Hawk. Another, a young mage (and Kalabar's secret love for most of the story until he finally admits his love) named Selana. With them, much later, also came a dashing Robin Hood-like forester called Will, and a lethal beauty of an assassin named Valencia and her airship-pirate husband Balan.
    ...
    There were great mythical creatures, from a noble and gentle Chimera, to wise and sometimes tempramental dragons. Goblins, orcs, dwarves, witches, drakes, they were all thereand even mysterious tribal people, all werewolves, weretigers, and many other types of werecreature. By the end of the story, Kalabar had become a King of Strahlholm after raising a revolution to overthrow the evil Emperor, and Kalabar split the empire back into its respective kingdoms. He married his Selana, and he gave his thanks in the form of freedoms and land to his allies. Hawk returned north despite nearly having died in the final battle, Will served Kalabar as his head forester, and Valencia and Balan, both heavily wounded in battle, were pardoned from their crimes, only to go off on their magic-powered airship and continue doing what they had always done before. Sir Harlo had died to protect his allies in the last fight, and was buried near his home in southern Strahlholm. Kalabar had four children, and, as the journal ended, Kalabar was in his late nineties. His final passages read as such:
    ...
    I'm close onto one-hundred now, and I know my time is near. I have beautiful children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. My dear Selana has passed on before me, and she beckons me to follow. I've had an adventurous life, full and rich with good and bad. I hope my fight has made a difference, and that the world will not forget that, in the face of tyranny, only one must stand up for what is right, and the rest will be bravened by him and follow. Never forget that one voice makes the difference, as that one voice calls the rest to battle.
    ...
    It is time, but before I go, I must speak to you personally, whoever you are. If you have read my journal, you must've been drawn to it. Wherever you are, and whenever you are, know that this did not happen for no reason. I know I said at the beginning that this entire story is true, and it is, but know that Strahlholm is not a part of your world. It is a different Earth where the creatures of legend roam, and you must go there. You were drawn to my journal because something has gone terribly wrong- Selana once linked this book to the health of my kingdom. If you are reading this, Strahlholm is in terrible danger. When you think yourself ready, light this book on fire, and it will take you there without destroying the pages. Use what is in these pages to help you find your allies. All the descendants of my party will be loyal to the one who holds the book.
    ...
    Good luck, my dear friend. Please, if you cannot fight, then send someone who can. Don't let the kingdom I saved be ruined. Farewell.
    -King Kalabar Andenomaya IX.
    You remember the story, and you laughed at the end. Crazy old man. But hardly a week later, you became curious but also in a mood to prove the man crazy. So you went outside, found an alleyway trashcan, lit the book on fire, and dropped it in.
    ...
    Here you are. Serves you right.
    ...
    Off in the distance, you see what looks to be a city, but there are no skyscrapers. The tallest thing looks to be... a belltower. You're laying in the grass, but near you is a worn old dirt road. There are no dirt roads anywhere near Boston central. So... maybe the man wasn't so crazy, or you drank too much last night and ended up a hell of a ways away from Boston.
    ...
    (And now I switch to third-person mode)
    ...
    .

    And to top it all off, now there's a man in his fourties getting down from a wagon to come over and stare at you. "Ya'll right, there, kiddo?" He spoke with what to you sounded like an Irish country accent. He had a kind face, almost looked Amish with his beard lacking a mustache and his wide-brimmed hat. He wore a white tunic, belted about the waist, with loose leggings, tall boots, and a brown apron. His belt held all manner of tools. His wagon was loaded with baskets of apples and a couple bushels of wheat and corn. He chuckled, "Come on, up ya get."
    ~*~Taiylor Wallace~*~

    At your service, and sarcastic as Hell.

    "At the core of it all, a writer is a goddess of her written world, defying any god of her own world."

  2. #2
    Spaminatrix Esper's Avatar
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    Seraphina woke up slightly groggy to the sight of a man walking toward her. She groaned as her vision went back to normal from the blur she saw when her eyes opened. He lifted her up, not like she could really argue with the fact she wanted to. Her legs needed the convincing. "Thank you", she replied with a half confused look on her face. "I hate to bother any more than I have already, but can you tell me where I am? I don't remember much honestly."

    “Your story may not have such a happy beginning, but that doesn’t make you who you are. It is the rest of your story – who you choose to be.”

    "Illuminate a world that will try to bring you down."


  3. #3
    I'm Just Taiylor Taiylor Wallace's Avatar
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    "Why, love, yer out on the plains 'twixt Scarborough and the harbor. Ya hit yer head er somethin', lass?" He chuckled good-naturedly. The only Scarborough most people from Seraphina's neighborhood had ever heard of was in some old song. "Strange t'see a girl all on 'er lonesome out 'ere. Got lost, maybe?" He laid a gentle, calloused hand on her shoulder. "I'll give ye a ride, eh. Where ye headed?"
    ~*~Taiylor Wallace~*~

    At your service, and sarcastic as Hell.

    "At the core of it all, a writer is a goddess of her written world, defying any god of her own world."

  4. #4
    Spaminatrix Esper's Avatar
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    "Scarborough. I was told to seek someone out and I am afraid I am new to the region. I am something of a wanderer." She straightened her worn leather boots and looked at the cart. "It looks like you're headed there yourself." In truth she was utterly horrible at small talk, but if the man was polite enough to offer her a ride there she might as well be pleasant. "My name is Seraphina by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you."

    “Your story may not have such a happy beginning, but that doesn’t make you who you are. It is the rest of your story – who you choose to be.”

    "Illuminate a world that will try to bring you down."


  5. #5
    I'm Just Taiylor Taiylor Wallace's Avatar
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    "Seraphina. What a lovely name, lass. Name's Duncan, love," he grinned brightly. "I's just 'eaded into town t'meet me brother Jacob an' sell this here wagonload o' goods t'the market. Lemme give ya an 'and." He stepped over to the loaded wagon and offered a hand, and once she was situated, he gave a whistle to his two draft horses pulling the cart and they were off. Right off the bat, something was very, very strange. There were no powerlines, no lightpoles, no distant water or radio towers. Just grass, trees, and a dirt road. They passed by a trio of men on horseback, herding goats and sheep, and Duncan tipped his hat to them, calling them all by name. "Lexan, Darius, Barry."
    .
    "Mornin', Duncan!" The largest of the lot, who Duncan can called Barry, smiled back, and they all nodded or tipped their hat back to him.
    .
    "Watch that li'l one there, Lexan." Duncan laughed as a baby goat skirted away from the flock. Lexan chased it down and Duncan just chuckled, turning his eyes back to the road. But then, the real differences appeared. Up ahead there came trudging along a massive beast, covered in fur with the muscled body of a man, but the head, tail, and footpaws of a wolf. His fur was deep mahogany brown and he wore a dark green tunic, dark pants, and a wide belt about his waist. His footpaws were left bare. He carried a bow and quiver on his back, and a bundle of wild game furs hoisted high on his shoulder. He walked tall and proud, with eyes that showed the mix of his human and animal blood- fiery and intelligent, wild yet calm. He looked up as the cart approached, and he stepped out of the roadway for them.
    .
    "Farmer Duncan, sir," he spoke in a deep bass voice, amber eyes alight with kindness as he bowed his head respectfully to the elder man.
    .
    "I see ya got some luck this month, ey, Destri?"
    .
    "Yes, sir, just had these all tanned. I'm taking these home to my mother, then I'll sell whichever she doesn't use."
    .
    "Good boy, 'elpin' yer mama still when yer all grown up."
    .
    "Thank you sir. Good day to you. And you too miss," the werewolf man, Destri, smiled to Seraphina politely, and he continued on his way. Duncan didn't seem the least bit bothered by the non-human person, as if he saw them everyday. And up ahead, there were more. A group of young men of all manner of blood. Human, wolf, tiger, lion, bear, even some strange reptillian creature Seraphina could not place. They were all lumberjacks, working on a few trees by the road. Duncan greeted all of them by name.
    ~*~Taiylor Wallace~*~

    At your service, and sarcastic as Hell.

    "At the core of it all, a writer is a goddess of her written world, defying any god of her own world."

  6. #6
    Spaminatrix Esper's Avatar
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    Seraphina soaked up the details with her eyes. The book wasn't lying it turned out. Why had the idea of setting something on fire on the offchance she might go far away amuse her so? There was no use trying to sort that out now. The man he seemed friendly. The beastly humanoids seemed to respond in kind. They were intelligent, although perhaps no less deadly. She would have to figure that out later. The thoughts raced through her mind in slivers of seconds. "Since you've been so kind to act as my guide I would like you to do what you must first as to not put you being schedule."

    “Your story may not have such a happy beginning, but that doesn’t make you who you are. It is the rest of your story – who you choose to be.”

    "Illuminate a world that will try to bring you down."


  7. #7
    I'm Just Taiylor Taiylor Wallace's Avatar
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    "Ah, darlin', I ain' never got no schedule. Jes droppin' things off, ya see. Ya look like ya don't recognize anythin', so why don' I take ya t'the Stronghold in the village, eh? Lord Mian'll sort ya out or 'ave an officer 'elp ya," Duncan smiled over to her. As they came upon the village, the sheer medieval look of it all told Seraphina that she was definitely not in Kansas anymore. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Humans worked and lived alongside the werecreatures with ease. Some, she could see by their demeanor and fearless love, were even married. Off in the southern distance laid great fields, to the north and west lay a vast forest, to the east, where they'd come from, lay a thinner wood, the plains, and who knew what else. The village's main street unfolded before them into a small market full of shops and stalls, merchants hawking wares, and children running about with their parents. Duncan came to a huge storehouse and dropped off all his goods, all hauled inside by hugely muscled men and werecreatures. A wiry little werefox paid him for it all, and Duncan thanked him. Another man, Duncan's brother Jacob, joined them, just as kind and just as courteous, and Duncan drove on. They came to the village's main square, a large cobblestoned street circle, in the center of which was a ringed fountain around a massive oak tree wit a handful of white ribbons tied onto its lower branches and then one with a strange tribal symbol tied about its great trunk. And now, in the distance loomed a massive fortress of dark stone, flying banners depicting the same strange symbol that was one the tree, in the colors black, deep blue, and white. Duncan brought the wagon straight to it, and Seraphina began to notice something: men in uniforms with small badges on their chests or sewn into their cloaks, depicting that odd symbol. They were soldiers and warriors, most of them very impressive in their physical prowess and many looking quite calm and composed. Duncan pulled up to the gated wall that surrounded the fortress, and a white werewolf with the stripes of a Major came to greet them.
    .
    "Duncan, glad to see you," the werewolf spoke kindly, and he offered a gentlemanly bow when he saw Seraphina.
    .
    "Hiya, there, Jesse. Listen, my friend. This here lass seems t'be lost. Can ya get 'er where she needs t'be?"
    .
    "Gladly," Jesse smiled. "Please, miss, come with me." He offered a hand to help her down.
    ~*~Taiylor Wallace~*~

    At your service, and sarcastic as Hell.

    "At the core of it all, a writer is a goddess of her written world, defying any god of her own world."

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