Of A Shadow

[danielmn]

The seas tossed and turned as the barefoot crew scrambled to secure the mooring lines to the dock. The sky itself was on fire, lightning flashing through at short intervals...the rain coming down..and up..and sideways. One might think Talos himself called this city his home, the way the ships wrenched against the pileons of the docks...

The birds who had taken shelter near where the ship had docked rearranged themselves under the pier...and as the last of the lines was tied off, the grey clad figure slowly made his way off of the boat. Tharon, shipmate on the Swallow Pride for near ten years now, watched as the cloaked and hooded figure made its way down the plank. He shuddered involuntarily as the being left the presence of the ship altogether...the rain sliding off some invisible barrier nearly a foot away from it. An indescribeable feeling from this...man? He did not know, he never saw its face...days later the whole crew would atest that not a soul had seen him uncowled the whole trip. And years later, when many memories had long gone...Tharon would tell Calen, his grandchild, of that fatefull journey...of the being whom none had seen. A being not of evil....but...something else.

The figure wound it's way through the rain, one gloved hand tightly clutching the staff...which seemed to be the only thing holding the hunched figure upright. And as the figure made it's way toward the door, the thud of the staff on the flagstone, the jingle of the many charms attached to it, the head turns, as if seeking some small reason....

......


Grandle watched from the shadows as the figure made a slight nod at the sign. The Crows Nest. So, he had finally returned. "The bastard should know better...oh, how I will enjoy this." Grandle chuckled to himself as the figure entered the building, then slinked back through the darkness to his Master.