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03-20-2011, 07:57 AM | #11 |
La Belle Dame sans Merci
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Therian woke with the rough edge of a cobble stone digging into his hip. His head was on Branor's shoulder in the most undignified of ways. The two of them were crammed into the space between two decorative archways. It was chilly; he could tell by his breath coming from him in bursts of white.
"Bran, Bran, get up." Branor woke up with a moan. "What?" They were in some corner of the city, and Therian could not remember how they had ended up there. He smelled fresh bread, which meant it was morning, and besides that, it was getting light. "Get up, you fool, Brinn is going to kill us." Some motion caught Therian's vision off to the side somewhere. A boy, perhaps? "Where are we?" Bran grumbled. "Olog... chased us... but then I don't remember..." They hauled themselves to their feet and stumbled toward an intersection, following the smell of bread. A large sign pointed their way, emblazoned with the words, "Lamedon Square Market: This Way!" |
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