Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

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Post by Anon of D'Athen » Sat Jan 08, 2011 11:26 am

Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

The sound of a hammer striking metal and the occasional hiss of steam as heated metal is quenched resounds through the nearly empty shire of Greenbriar. A man in many patched cloths bends over a sword- he has been working on the curved blade for weeks now, taking effort to work out any imperfections in the sword. And it was not the first in his attempt at perfection- in fact, he had started over at least thrice. But the effort kept him busy, and that was what he needed most.

However, his thoughts were not quite in the turmoil they used to be. The corners of his lips turn up slightly in a fond memory of a strange magician-girl always attempting to visit and converse with him. She had been so determined to see what made him tick. She had almost convinced him to move back to the cursed town of Trollsbane so she could visit him more easily. He smirked slightly. He supposed he missed her- she had drawn him from the dredges of madness that had lingered. Now he just didn't remember much of the past decade, instead of seeing everything in a warped light. "Too bad,"He murmured. She had stopped visiting a long time ago.

He lifted the red hot blade from the anvil and dipped it into a barrel of water. A hiss of steam burst into the air. He bent back to the furnace, pumping the bellows with one hand, holding the sword with tongs in the other. Hot work- sweat dripped from his nose and soaked his brown locks. He tried to keep them brushed out, now. He was no longer traveling constantly, his mind swimming in the past.

With a hiss, he dropped the sword-to-be and placed a hand to his chest. Quickly, he forced his hand down. Best to ignore that. When he could, it would just fade to an itch or a dull ache. Shaking his head in annoyance, he bend over to lift the sword and reheat it in the furnace. Mattin Dogain repeated the ritual of making a sword, every hammer stroke important, carefully placed.

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Post by Joxia Doral » Sun Jan 09, 2011 12:35 am

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

*Strolls casually through the street of Greenbriar, the cobwebs filling the crumbling corners of the deserted buildings does not escape her sharp green gaze as she scans the shadows watchfully. Her coins jingle too loudly in the silence as she opens her purse to pay for a few cakes from one of the few halfers still residing there.
Her head jerks up suddenly when the sound of hammer on steel is carried on the wind to her ears from the smithy in back of town. Instinctively a hand moves to a sword hanging at her side and she slips quietly into a shadow of the nearest building. Several possibilities run through her mind, Drow...no, they would slaughter the halfers first as they did before, her lips twitch in a quiet smirk...a criminal in hiding would be more likely.
Staying close to the building so not to be spotted from the smithy she makes her way in silent foot in that direction. The hammer methodically rings out as it hits the steel and a figure intent on his work is bent over the anvil. A soft gasp escapes her lips as he straightens and wipes the sweat from his brow and for a moment she is frozen in surprise, unable to move her feet even if she had tried. A flood of memories rush over her as they always seem to do when she unexpectedly finds him on the island. Making her way a bit closer, she examines him closely without being noticed and she reaches to an amulet almost forgotten but always there, at her throat and her fingers detect a warmth emitting from it and the blood red glow it sometimes produced was absorbed into her gloved hand as it wrapped around it to not draw his attention.
"Mattin", the name came in a hoarse whisper so quiet only a fairy flitting very near may have heard. Unable to bring herself to approach him she stood there till the waned into evening and he seemed to decide to stop for the day. Hoping to avoid him finding her she attempts to backtrack her steps and leave but in her haste her foot snaps a dry twig loudly and she molds herself to the wall in the darkest shadow of the building and hardly dares a breath as she looks back to see if he heard...*

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Post by Anon of D'Athen » Sun Jan 09, 2011 1:20 am

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

As the day draws on and the sun nears the Western ocean, glinting on the calm ocean waters surrounding the tiny self-important island, Mattin dips the hot blade into the barrel of water one last time. He felt paranoid, and his chest ached. It bothered him, but he attempted to shrug it off. His paranoia had meant little in the past except when, well. He didn't want to admit that to himself right now. It was bad enough knowing, but if he could continue this existence without those dark touches of his past, he was going to try.

The worn looking man gathers his tools and arranges them neatly in the depot. Knelt down, he looks at one small item he had set in there so as not to risk it in his work- a ring with a blue stone set into it. It was as precious to him as the crystal necklace he had given to his closest friend some years ago. Blinking back the resulting emotion was habit now- it took so little conscious thought that when he realized it he shook his head in despair.

The sun dipped below the horizon and he stood, lifting the leather thong which carried the ring to his neck. His head snapped up as he heard a twig snap, and as if summoned his sword was drawn. He had turned in the motion, putting his back against the wall so he could safely scan the surroundings. It was then he saw one of the ever populous rabbits that must make up nine-tenths of the Greenbriar population. He sighed and muttered of his paranoia.

Still, he watched for several long minutes. With a shake of his head, Mattin turns and goes to the tavern where his normal pallet was left near the oven. Throwing on a few branches, he stirs the banked coals to life and brings a small fire forth to heat the room. Not that he couldn't sleep with out it, but it made the loneliness less noticeable.

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Post by Joxia Doral » Tue Jan 11, 2011 6:07 am

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

The time pressed against the wall felt like ages as he scanned the area for several minutes. The amulet clasp tightly in her fist; a single thought kept going through her mind ~ "Dont let him sense me...dont let him sense me..." Only when he finally entered the tavern and the door was shut did she dare to move. Shrouded in her dark cloak, the figure blends invisibly into the shadows as if part of it as she slinks to the corner of the building, only able to draw a breath when the corner was rounded.
Her feet have no pause and she dares not look back, just darts across the abandoned street and melts once more into the shadows. Passing the teleporter she decides to walk giving her time to process finding out he was still residing in Briar. A gentle breeze whispered through the trees and grasses seeming to carry with it voices of memories that jumble her thoughts now.
A faint pang of guilt told her that she had not even thought of him since returning home...the last time they spoke, he was going to take Brentel and keep him...at least for a while...The questions rolled around in her head, should she still...would he still want to?
Her feet had been choosing her path without any conscious thought and her own frustrated sigh brings her to awareness. The Union...also a deserted and crumbling settlement. she began to speak out loud to herself as her feet touched on the wooden bridge. "Brentel needs the guidance of a man...one who truely cares ...And Mattin was Wolfs best friend, he knows the nature of the child...But is he mentally fit to care for a rambunctious boy?" *her face lights up with a laugh* "More energy than a child needs and mischief to spare as well"
The walk having allowed her to collect her thoughts she picked up her pace. The softly glowing lights of Trolls Bane were just becoming visible ahead. "Yes, I will buy everything Brentel needs and take him to Briar. I think i can be good for both of them."

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Post by Anon of D'Athen » Tue Jan 11, 2011 6:27 am

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

In the morning, the strange man sleeping on the floor of the Greenbriar tavern awoke. However, he neither rose nor opened his eyes, nor would he until he finished counting and listening. Nothing but the sound of his breath in the cool air. Satisfied, he rose and stretched, smiling softly at the dream he had last night. Despair almost took him at the memories it had brought back, but he refused to let them dampen his spirits- he had little enough reason to be happy, why let this one fade?

Mattin went back to the ever on going task of perfecting his sword. Coming along nicely, the iron formed together without seam. Mattin piled coal into the furnace and began to reminisce over the recent dream. It had seemed very real, then.

He settled beneath the tree next to her, their gazes on the Troll's Vein river. Mattin took a bottle of wine he had brought along and poured a cup, offering it to his companion. She took it with a quiet thank-you. Sipping from a cup of his own, they sat their for hours, talking about their pasts, how old they were, how and why they ended up in the hodgepodge of Trollsbane.

Striking fire to the coal, the man pumped the bellows, bringing the small fire to life. From there, he began reheating the sword to a bright glowing yellow.

From there, they went on to speak of their families, her story of arrival being tied in with her brother attempting to make life a better place for them both. Nearing the end of their journey, misfortune had befallen them and taken her brother's life. The expresion she had now pained him, and almost without thought, he put an arm around the fragile girl in an effort to comfort her. They kept talking, more softly and subdued now, sipping at the wine as the night progressed. When the sky above began to lighten in the grey dawn, he turned his head, looking into her eyes for a moment, and softly pressed his lips to hers.

The noise of the hammer beating on the heated steel of the sword covered his soft sigh. Just a dream, he reminded himself. Nothing to cause bother. Thus the day wore on, him bent over the sword, smashing the iron into place, heating the blade, quenching it, and remembering the dream.

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Post by Joxia Doral » Sat Jan 15, 2011 2:35 am

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

Strolling casually into the ghost town of Greenbriar the rythmic metalic ring of metal against metal echos off the deserted brick buildings. Rounding the corner the smithy comes into view and the figure of a man wielding a hammer against the glowing steel. Her gut twisted with uncertainity and hesitation brought pause to her steps. She drew a deep breath and berated herself for being weak. They had cared a lot for each other....once. But that seemed to be a lifetime ago now. How many times had he left because being near her was too painful? How many times she had encouraged him to go knowing its the only way she would not hurt him in the long run... She shook her head to clear her thoughts. None of that matters any more. He is still here, and Brentel could benefit from him. Setting her chin with determination she soon closed the gap between herself and the smithy.
He was bent over his work and so engrossed in it that it was several minutes that she stood there watching him before he looked up and saw her.
"Hello Mattin."
I waited..to see if he would run away as he had the instant he saw her once..or would he just turn his back on her refusing to speak?

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Post by Anon of D'Athen » Sun Jan 16, 2011 11:16 pm

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

The man bent over his work, long tendrils of dark brown hair blackened with the sweat of his effort. Tick-tick, TOCK, tick-tick, TOCK. Rhythmic, the steady sound and pattern of constantly working the iron, here and there to keep the weave of iron even. With the sun rising his in her course, the man's eyes tightened at a pain in his chest. A familiar pain, and less pain than a sensation. It didn't hurt, but it distracted. And so he focused himself upon his work, engrossing himself further and further into the task of perfection, a task he knew he could never reach. That was why he strove for it. It would keep him forever busy, the ever constant toil ensuring he had no time for anything else until the day his body broke and released his spirit to the realm of Cherga.

It was then he noticed her. He remembered what the sensation meant. His crystal was near. His body froze at the realization, the heavy iron of the hammer wrenching his arm to hang just a finger's breadth above the glowing steel. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head and met her eyes.

Hello, Mattin.

And he stared, as if in his hunched position the dream would take itself back into his head and stop troubling his eyes. He scarcely believed them. And the dream coalesced with his memories, forming into the reality he saw before himself. She was a beautiful as ever, and it struck him. His arms long to reach out for her, even as he stood stock-still with the implements of his craft frozen in his hands. She was here. Why! Mattin felt his body go cold and fill with dread, and the remains of a cold anger that had filled him the last they met. Struggling, he forced that aside, but could not contend with the dread the occasion brought to him. Dread, wonder, and an intense longing for the one still living person whom he loved. It hurt and made his head spin.

Swallowing against the onslaught of emotion, he raised him self, setting his tools on the anvil. A small corner of his mind told him that letting the blade cool in such a way would ruin it. With his hands at his sides, clenching and un-clenching his shirt tail, he looked into her eyes- Hello, Joxia. It was an effort not to run away, or run to her, ignoring the anvil in front of his waist. It was as ethereal as the moment. His gaze attempted to show all these emotions, his brow creasing with the questioning wonder.

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Post by Joxia Doral » Sun Jan 23, 2011 11:41 am

Re: Haunting the Streets of Greenbriar

She steeled herself against the small twinge of guilt she felt when he finally looked up and she saw the dread in his eyes and gave him a warm and reassuring smile.
Guilt? Dread? How had they gotten to this? They had been so close once...
When she really thought about it theirs had been a rough road. In the beginning he had always had to leave, for his work.Then one day out of the blue he brought her back, the crazy woman, and married her. Then there was Wolf....More trouble than any elf had the right to be. And of course Julius, who Mattin had been friends with until Julius' son killed his wife. At this point his mental instability became prominent. When Joxia became Archduchess she didnt have the time to be friend that he needed. His discomfort in crowds soon kept him from Bane.
After that hed left, until almost a year ago when she saw him with Achae, at which time he ran when he saw like a scared rabbit. Then a few months ago Oriloi had found him in Briar where unexpectedly here he was still.
It had not all been bad. The treasure hunt the day they met, picnics & wine, snowball fights, their first kiss with the sunrise by the river after one of many nights that they stayed up all night talking, the one night they made love...
Pushing the memories away, she stepped forward and ask "You dont have a hug for your old friend?"

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