Re: Earthdawn PBeM BN 6.2 The horde advances.......

From: H LEES (gottalearntaduck_at_hotmail.com)
Date: Fri Oct 31 2003 - 07:12:10 GMT


(OOC: 300km in four hours...still gotta love relatives with internet
hookups.)

    With all the witty banter being thrown about, Garrott snorts the hammer
bouncing in his hand as he waits for the beasts to come close enough to the
edge of the circle he is standing in. Listening to the speach of Pean he
nods his head in complete agreement with what the Nethermancer said. His
dark gaze drifted slowly to the wedge of sky revealed to him in the slow
pump of his massive heart he experienced a number of things, his mind
wandering through the dusty halls of his memory, both racial and recent.
    The heat that bore down on his black striated skin was irritating him he
decided, the usual flash of anger so unusual in his race died, replaced with
a sombre mood. His mind wandered along the thin mountain trails of his
home, the freezing wind a soft caress upon his bare face as he slowly walked
down a narrow track. Garrott was not sure if the memory was his or that of
another of his kind, left with him like a family heirloom at the time of his
forming from the liferock. It was the way of Obsidimen, to move slowly,
slow enough that the wildlife that lived in the mountains did not see him
coming. Like the formation of the earths bones, was the thoughts and
actions of the Obsidiman, a fundamental racial trait that had been swamped
in the flood of flesh name giver experiences of late.
    Another pump of the massive heart, the howl of another beast scorched by
the life circles and he reflected on the high windy passes. His attention
was grabbed by the small white flowers that grew, tenaciously clinging
despite the wind to the small cracks and crevices. Higher up the mountain,
a goat lifted it's horned head from grazing on the same greenery to watch
the slow tread of the warrior. Whilst still higher, suspended on the air
between the mountains, an eagle drifted at the whim of the thermals that
swept up from the lowlands. Peace flooded through the warrior, as the wan
sunlight was trapped and distributed by the colours of his stony skin.
    Casting a look over his shoulder and seeing the passion of his
companions, sadness flowed through him as he realised how young they were
and how little they knew. It was likely that they would never truly
experience all that they desired and it was equally likely that they would
not experience again the caress of a cold wind upon their faces or stand
awestruck by the flight of an eagle, wondering just how they stayed aloft.
Garrott slowly stepped forward the hammer raised, he did not feel the flash
of anger, nor the fear of death, even the sadness waned. He was an
Obsidiman warrior, it was his task to free Barsaive and make sure that all
namegivers could live to experience the magic of the world. His step
carried him slowly into the air, as he chose his first target. If his death
was woven into the cosmic tapestry cradelling the world of Barsaive so be
it, if his death bought life for his new companions, again so be it. That
was the call of the Obsidiman, they were one with the universe, they were
one with the liferock and the conflict of life was all. Silently he offered
a plea to Thystonius that his blow would be strong, he pleaded to Garlen
that she would protect his companions in her hand and he prayed to
Florrannus that his motion would not falter. HIs hammer stretched for his
first target, without hate, without regret and without fear.
His name was Garrott.
He was of the Sagrine and he was Sagrine.
He had truly discovered what it meant to be an Obsidiman.

_________________________________________________________________
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