Most people knew better than to walk through a park after sunset. But this was a park in suburbia, not the city, and a park that Roman knew as intimately as the palm of his hand. Lorewyn Park. The locals viewed Lorewyn Park as nothing more than neglected land, overpopulated with weeds, deer, and knee-high grass. But for Roman, Lorewyn's three square miles were filled with the scent of conifers and boyhood dreams.
As a child, Roman rode his mountain bike through the lands and imagined himself recreating the journey of Lewis and Clarke exploring the American West. As a university student, he had come here early in the morning to clear his mind of teenage distractions. Now, Draune found himself covering the same undeveloped territory once again, noting now, as before, how peaceful the atmosphere was after the sun set. When I come here I know I'm not at home in my own home. Only here do I truly feel relaxed.
Many times in the past Draune wondered if he should give up his academic pursuits so he could flee the complications of society. Now the feeling rose in him again, as he padded through the grasses in the moonlight, that this would not be a bad way to live. No more commerce. No more false civility. No more pretense. Just the natural world and one’s own capabilities. You reap what you sow! He thought of the simple lives of the monks whose works he studied, who had everything Roman desired in life, yet stood for everything Roman hated. Now, as before, the incongruity alternately fascinated and disgusted him, banishing all thoughts of abandoning his studies. No epiphany today. My life’s work is misery, and I cannot tear myself away from it.
Roman arrived at his destination atop a small forested hill, sat down on a boulder, tucked his legs in, and rested his head on his knees. He inhaled the forest scent. Draune’s eyes closed, and he saw his ancestors in this very place. Vivid images, those. Roman spoke softly: What did you think, when you sat where I am sitting now, so many centuries ago?
Roman let himself fall backward, placing his hands behind his head to break his fall. The desire to sleep overpowered him, and he dozed off. Faces with inscrutable expressions lasted until he was fully unconscious.
(Note: I realize this is not the easiest post to start an RP, and Roman is difficult in general (but I promise there will be fun down the road, really! I swear!). So I want to help out anyone who wants to help me by replying to this post. If you have questions or just want to talk about where this is headed or if I can make this easier in any way, please send me a PM and I will get back to you as soon as possible).
The park wasn't a very busy place even during daylight hours. It was even less so after dark. Which was the precise reason Hugh and his sometimes associate had chosen this place to make their exchange.
They were always quick about such things. Anyone happening to notice might mistake it for a drug deal. It was not. Hugh specialized in magical tomes and artifacts, but was always looking for new items. The man he'd met here happened to be good at procuring them, usually normal folk had no idea what they were. So they turned up now and again at estate sales, pawn shops, or even the goodwill. In essence Hugh paid his associate to be on the look out for them.
Hugh was on his way out of the park. Heading towards where he'd left his jeep parked, but he often stopped by the hill on his way out of the park. It seemed fitting to check up on it, since all the leylines nearby led to it. A seat of power, was always worth keeping an eye one. He decided to give it a checking out tonight, and so made a slight detour.
(If this doesn't quite suit drop me a PM and I'll happily tweak it. It occurs to me someone interested in old manuscripts might not mind making the aquaintance of a museum currator mage.)
The sound of footsteps pulled Roman away from sleep. He sat up quickly, opening his eyes to the darkness around him. He focused on the regular pattern of steps through the overgrown grass, trying to guess the interloper’s distance from the rock. As he concentrated, the sound of footsteps jarred a vision. Not now, not now! Roman muttered, swearing. His eyes swam, and he felt a sinking sensation in his bones as he tried unsuccessfully to force the vision away.
Roman found himself in a twilight scene. There was nothing to suggest a time period, or any specific place. The only familiar element was footsteps through thick grasses. Two figures appeared: one prone by Roman's feet, the other about ten feet away.
“Etrius,” the prone man gasped, lying in a pool of his own blood. Even in the twilight Roman could see his skin was ashen. Death for this one, tonight, Roman realized. “Etrius, please. You are a good man. I know... I know you. I know you don’t want to do this. Etrius. I can help you. I can help you find peace. Please… Etrius. Come closer. Let me…”
With great effort, he sat up, and Roman was taken aback by his preternatural gaze. Beads of sweat rolled down the man’s face, and suddenly a third eye opened in the center of his forehead. Analogy, the third eye is an analogy, Roman thought to himself, but to what? The dying man reached out to the one called Etrius, who now stood at his feet. Etrius took his hand. Though no more words issued from the broken body, the two men conversed wordlessly, their eyes locked on one another. Somehow, Roman understood what they were saying.
“Saulot,” came Etrius’ slow voice,”you and I know how this ends. We each play out the roles that fate has written for us. Submit. Make this easier on us both.”
“The magister is not Lachesis,” Saulot replied, and Roman thought he saw a faint smile break through the man’s suffering. “You have given him enough loyalty for a lifetime. For… an eternity. I know the path to Golconda. I can lead you there.” Saulot’s third eye flashed, and Etrius cried out in pain. Roman got a good look at Etrius' face past the curtain of thick black hair—craggy skin contorted with emotion, eyes tightly closed against Saulot’s inner light.
“You fear me,” Saulot continued, “just as you feared what would come of your magister’s experiment. You are terrified… of your nature. You loathe what you are. And your loyalty to him keeps you in this prison. Etrius… ”
“Irrelevant!” Etrius exclaimed, throwing Saulot’s hand away. The light from Saulot’s eye dimmed as the contact was lost. Etrius leaned in close to Saulot, whose arms shook with the effort of keeping his abdomen upright. “Our destinies collide. I don’t care for what might have been.”
“Etrius--” Saulot beseeched once more, but never finished as Etrius struck him into unconsciousness.
Abruptly the two men disappeared and Roman was left sitting on the rock, staring at the spot where he last saw them. Another person now occupied their place, and emotionlessly Roman called out a greeting, giving no indication that he had just watched a murder.
(I know another weird reply! I hope this is understandable, I had an idea in mind but I am not sure if it was executed clearly. Also, In greek mythology, Lachesis is the third and scariest of the fates. She decides when a person dies by “cutting” the thread of their life. If you have questions or need me to clarify something AIM or PM me )
Hugh approached at the stranger's greeting, though cautiously. It's not exactly a normal set of circumstances to make a new aquaintence, but he's long believed, fortune favors the bold.
He strides are even but brisk, he moves purposefully without seeming to hurry. Though he doesn't seem uncomfortable in the setting of the park, he certainly looks out of place in his suit and tie. "Hello there." he calls back as he approaches.
