Some prose for once....

Posted by Niamh on August 28, 1996 at 23:39:13:
{Back}

This is the closest I've ever come to writing an 'action' piece.

Outside the inn the storm was venting it's futile rage. Futile to
Faran who experienced the lashing of wind and rain through the squinty-
-paned windows, not first hand. The bleak darkness outside served
only to enhance the bright warmth of the inn, the cheerful and comfortable
atmosphere.
Not that it was really safe here, for while they seemed congenial
enough at the moment, Faran had no illusions that any one of the men
here, and no few of the women, would cut his throat as soon as blink if it
came to the issue of who owned his purse.
However Faran was no fool, and didn't flash around gold coins, or in any
other way reveal the true amount hanging from his belt. Besides,
the danger here was insignificant compared to that which Faran
usually faced, and far more predictable - which, as the proverbs said,
was half the battle won.
There was a somewhat more human atmosphere here than in the
Citadel - but, Faran berated himself, he had promised not to think of
that place tonight. He had come here to get away from it, to find some
real people, rather than the cold-souled, inhuman...Faran clamped down on
the thought, watching the people around him. Most seemed to be sailors, but
that was to be expected in a tavern this close to the docks.
Faran liked to watch people, ordinary people, to listen to them, to discover
their motivations, their fears, and their small triumphs, so different
from those in the C.. It was always strange to think of so many
people, so many lives in which he had no part, but which were as real
and important to them as Faran's was to him.
Faran was musing on this when the door opened, and the storm gained a
momentary foothold inside. Three people entered, letting the door slam behind
them. Three people, cloaked and hooded - no surprise in this weather - who drew
a few stares because one was close to six feet tall at least, while his
companions stood head and shoulders below him. Nothing too unusual, or so
Faran thought, until they reached the bar and removed their hoods to talk
to the 'keeper. Then they drew many stares, hushed conversations, and began
new ones.

Must go to a lecture...to be continued...