<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"> <HTML><HEAD> <META http-equiv=Content-Type content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> <META content="MSHTML 6.00.2900.3132" name=GENERATOR> <STYLE></STYLE> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=#ffffff> <DIV>can someone give me a bit of advice on this story ive been workin on its not muc hbut it sets th feel for the piece</DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV> </DIV> <DIV>  The Forsaken one’s tale. A Tale of Metamor Keep “Forsaken, outcast, pariah” The words burned hard and hot in the young outcasts mind as she began to trek northward. Although she knew this was coming, the shame caused her eyes to water. Pulling the black cloak around her trembling shoulders, Varlic headed out of her home-hall, to the outlying hamlet at the edge of her clan’s land. She knew that the elders would have sent someone to watch her to ensure that she left them as bereft of possessions as she was when she joined them. Save for the coarse black cloak Both for modesty's sake as well as to identify her to all her kind as a forsaken. Nearing the herder’s Hamlet, Varlic saw the familiar form of Ra’trik… her lover…her betrothed. “Humph.” he snorted. “ I told you your abnormality would do this to you.” “DO TO ME “! She shouted fully aware of the spectacle she was making, her voice dropped to an accusatory hiss, “You did this …you told the council about me, It’s not my fault though you kneew that and still you …” Ra’trik broke her off “I did what I had to do, Forsaken for the good of the clan the purity of our blood.” He stepped back “ As you go … take this “ thrusting a small plain leather pouch towards her “it has a few things to help you survive …also something to remember me by” … Ra’trik turned away his eyes moist, from the chilly air. Turning her back on Ra’trik, her home, her way of life, Varlic made for the pass through the barrier range… Back in the clans council Varlic’s father Veragh was striving to get the punishment reversed. “Elder, this is wrong, my daughter she is not at fault .her mixed blood betrays her. It is her blood at fault not her.” “Silence Veragh, she is dead to you, to us. Speak no more of this to us. Why Elder its wrong and you know it is, Quiet Veragh Ra’trik knew of her lineage when he requested my blessing, so why did he betray her to the council I knew he knew and the council knew but once he challenged her blood rights we had to act it is a matter of principal I hold nothing against Varlic,” The elder replied anger evident in the set of his head “Then let her return qorfuu isn’t going to change with one like her, you knew it to happen when we took in the stranger generations ago why now do you exile her. I suppose Veragh it will be public knowledge soon enough, he has requested to join the council apprentices, I can only assume that he turned her in to further his chances. As the conversation between Veragh and the council elder continued Varlic was nearing the edge of the clans territory. As she left the outlying sentiments Varlic wept freely her tears a trail of her shame, her misery. Leading up to the home range of her people… “No they’re not my people not any longer” Varlic thought to herself “I am alone I have nothing “. As her naked feet carried her away into the cold lonely darkness of the southern night. Her shadow, turned back to return home sure now of Varlic’s compliance to the dictates of the council. A heavy heart in his chest as his friend and childhood companion was lost… lost to all mind’s and memory. Varlic paused the pale light of the moon lighting up her rest stop A large granite boulder over looking a small clearing, forming an easily defensible position from the nocturnal predators of the mountains. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, the cool autumn air causing her breath to rise as mist as she smothered a small shiver “got to keep warm” she thought, as she pulled the pouch off of her neck the ‘parting gift’ her beloved had pressed upon her. Opening the small pouch carefully, she reached inside feeling around for the gift he gave to her. “Hmmm” she said as she felt some familiar round objects, Gold Coins, she realized a she pulled one out “these aren’t my homelands minted coins Ra’trik he must have traded them for me. Placing the coin back in she felt around to see what else was there. Her questing fingers soon fell upon the angular shape of a belt knife, Pulling it gently out Varlic was pleased to find its edge keen even though it was a bland design lacking any ornamentation. Placing the dagger to her own chest she considered this way of ending her pain, her exile. Her loss the impact of losing all she had all she ever would have to be non-existent to her family a simple dagger her only reminder. Even as the sharp metal bit into her warm flesh. She heard a ghostly call unlike anything in this world; clearly the words came not from her mind but from the vast expanse of wilderness around her “No don’t” she heard the words, a whisper faint easily dismissible as a figment of her imagination, save that the voice held a note of command, Remembering the knife at her chest Varlic hesitantly pulled it away pausing before placing it into the simple leather sheath, as she called out, “Who, who is out there, what being or daemon be thou?” Silence answered her query. Varlic waited, as the song of crickets, was punctuated with the occasional howl of a wolf, yet no more was the voice heard, As Varlic settled down to stand watch, as a precaution against the predators of the night slowly against her will Varlic be being lulled to sleep by the wild peaceful sounds around her…? Dawn broke casting its pale autumn rays on the rocks and trees surrounding the young outcast. “Yeagh” she yawned wakened by the warming rays “I slept…I cant believe I slept “Varlic said aloud as she stood up readjusting the black coarse cloak. Failing to notice the small handprint in the stone where she had lain. Nor the dryness of the stone lacking in dew from the night her mind still tormented, she was oblivious to these small things, as Varlic went about her morning business of getting something to eat and drink She pondered on the nature of the voice from the night before. Was it real, a hallucination? Even after Varlic had eaten her breakfast, a flimsy affair consisting of a few early nuts and juniper berries, the sound from the night before continued to haunt her thoughts. "It’s Hauntingly soothing; voice echoing through her soul putting an unusual spring in her step even though her heart was filled with despair. Each step taking her further and further from the land of her birth, Varlic walked upward ascending to the mountain pass the going made slow by her short legs and the difficult ground she had to cover. </DIV></BODY></HTML>