tek2way ◾ ◾ Good morning!!

I love this. I'm only sleeping maybe four hours at a time, but I'm feeling so rested that I don't need more than that. Strange, huh? I cannot believe how relaxed I am with this vacation. It'll really start to sink in when I hit day five. After all, I've done four days in a row before. That's not impressive. :)

Last night was especially fun, since

jartravian,

makeshift_guru,

nyminal, and I - with some help from

mfsfreak and

lordreaibn - had a conversation that racked up over 400 comments before I went to bed.

I've done nothing this morning, except make breakfast, and work on Quinn's background. It's funny, I keep typing, because there's more to tell, and I have only just gotten started. I'm at six pages, and he's just reached the first major point in the story. Eh, story. That's what it really is. I hope I can still play him, since the story is taking on a life of its own, and I'd rather not force it back to the character.

I'm really enjoying writing this, and I will post it for you guys, even if I wind up not playing him. I'm actually rather proud of how this is turning out, and want to share.

In the meantime, here is part two of the preview:

Quinn's Background, Part 2

I wondered how this vortex could appear spontaneously within the forest. Usually, such a portal had a image tending it, but magic was gone. Also, this city through the portal was obviously not on Brynn, unless they had some strange immigrants up in Palanthas. I decided that I needed to notify someone in Silvanost about what I had found; perhaps, I had discovered a way to thwart the Dragon Overlords without resorting to Glaucous shield idea.

Backing away quietly from the swirling rift in reality, I turned around to go, but found that I could not move. Try as I might, I could get no farther away from the vortex than I already was. I realized I had let myself get too close to look at it, and now I was trapped, like a galleon in the Maelstrom. I struggled vainly against the irresistible forces that were at work in the vortex, but I only succeeded in causing myself to slide closer.

By now, I was on my hands and knees, grabbing at rocks, sticks, and whatever else seemed handy to stop my horizontal fall. Everything I grabbed came loose in my hand, and fell faster to the vortex than I was. A small voice in the back of my mind said that it had gotten worse since it started pulling me in, and I wondered about that.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the pulling ceased. I could stand up, and walk back into the trees. The ground where I had struggled was torn and turned, leaves and rocks and sticks pulled up or pushed aside. My hands and the knees of my breeches were coated in the rich loam that served as Silvanesti’s soil. I felt something warn running down the back of my hands, and saw blood welling from a dozen minor scrapes.

I ducked back into the trees, and sat down, thankful to be alive. I cut part of my tunic off with my knife, and cleaned the cuts as well as I could. When I finished, I leaned back against the trees, and closed my eyes. I felt myself start to drift off, and tried to jerk myself awake. My body refused, though, exerted beyond its limit.

I spiraled down into sleep, only vaguely aware that someone was standing over me.

I found myself standing in an arena, surrounded by the empty seats of the coliseum. Above, the sky was as black as I had ever seen it. However, no stars shone in that velvety darkness. There were two gates at the floor of the arena, though both were sealed, their portcullises closed.

"Is this not a grand spot to hide in? It seems that no one can find it. Indeed, even you are just asleep, brought here at my behest."

I turned to face the speaker, and found myself in the presence of a woman, strikingly beautiful, yet I could tell that she was very cold and calculating. Her features seemed to almost be carved out of ice, given life by the north wind.

Her hair was curling, spun darkness, curling around that icy face which showed no emotion. She was slender, without being lean. The uniform of a Dragon High lord, like those from the War of the Lance over thirty years ago, completed her appearance. The odd thing was that the scales on the armor kept shifting from white, to green, to black, to blue, and finally to red, over and over. It was almost as if the armor was trying to be all of them at once.

Well, I'm going to try to finish up a little more, and then get ready for the game. We're starting earlier, since I'm on vacation, and everyone was always basically waiting on me anyway. Hopefully, we'll survive this week. :)