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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

This story will be partly based on my life (not much, just a bit), and I welcome other people who wish to join it.

Make yourself feel right at home.

BTW, I'll post about once every day or two. Or try anyways.

 

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A cool cloudless night, with life abreast in the Pen. Members and guests alike were rejoicing the change of the seasons with much drinking. But a few members didn't participate in the festivities. One, Vlad the Imploder, asked why we celebrate the change of the seasons. Noone could give him a straight answer, so he decided to find out for himself.

 

As he prepared his supplies he felt a tear come to his eye. No sooner than he had come to the Pen, he was already preparing to leave. He hadn't even been given a room to put a lock on, which would have doubtlessly been broken into by some lizards, who will not be mentioned by name. All Vlad had was a terribly inaccurate map of the surrounding region, a small dagger given to him by his father and his wits.

 

Saying his goodbyes and farewells another tear came to his eye. NO, I must be strong. With that Vlad turned on his heel, and drudged off.

Posted

On that same cloudless night, Icarus was to be found in his almost comically dilapidated abode, fixedly staring at the sky, when he heard the thin rustle of grass as Vlad the Imploder walked away from The Pen. Icarus furrowed his brow, and stepped out of his thin shack, peering at Vlad.

 

“Aye there.” Icarus stated, as Vlad turned his head, but not body, towards him. He was undoubtedly intent on his pending quest. Icarus dug into his pocket and conjured a small brown compass embedded in a vaguely iridescent brown maple leaf; the metal of the compass was turned to rust so completely that it seemed to have grown from within the heart of the leaf itself. He held it up loosely, in plain sight of Vlad.

 

“It doesn’t look like much,” Icarus tossed “but you may find it a partial answer to your question.” He slowly ambled toward Vlad through wet grass and crisp air, holding the remarkable compass in his hands gingerly. “I do not know where it came from except that I found it in the house of a mystic whom I found dead, just beyond the forest outside of these walls.” They both paused, looking out at the forest nested underneath the moon, past the walls of The Pen.

 

“If I may” he said hesitantly “I’d like to join you.”

Posted

OOC: This storyline will be a metaphor for life if it turns out correctly. Not that I want to dicourage anyone from posting in their unique, creative style.

 

Also, this might take place, the same night, or a different one as Icarus Waits. I really don't know.

 

One more thing... I do not mind if you take certain liberties with my character. Just try to keep them small.

 

 

IC: Vlad turned back to face Icarus. His face showed signs of an internal struggle. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He lifted his hand to take the compass, but stopped mere inches away.

 

The vampire walked away a few paces, and knelt down by a rock. He studied it carefully, looking for some sort of sign. His cape came off, and Vlad thrust it toward his companion.

 

"Put it on, you are cold. If you come with me we will travel mostly by night, and live off the land. If you come with me, we will be put through hard times. If you agree to this type of life, follow me. As for your compass, I cannot take it."

 

For a few moments Icarus stood motionless. He had the cape in one hand, and compass in the other. Not a position one is placed in often.

 

As Vlad walked off to the forest, clouds began to converge overhead. None were over the pen, but with each moment, more and more stars dissapeared.

 

He stopped at the gate and waited. Not for Icarus, but for the sign he had hoped to find by the rock.

 

OOC: If anybody else wants to join, I'll wait a few days.

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