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In the previous part: Thissraelle, a young high elf wizard, has spent much of the summer trying to teach Karendle how to find her own powers. It hasn't gone so well. In the meantime, her giant friend, Granthurg, is worried about what might have happened to his river barge captain. Antonerri and DeFrantis seem to be settling in caring for the monastery's orphans, the kids they had rescued from the Dragon's Flame, but she's been having horrible nightmares. Even though Eddiwarth is having some conflicted feelings toward Thissraelle, he seems to be more adept at sparking her ire than catching her eye.
Back in Twynne Riverns, Parith Laren, a wood elf rogue, has met up with Mann Korr, a strange man that fights with his feet and bare hands.
While all of this is going on, the dragon Kirraxal is planning something big for Twynne Rivers!
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Returning!
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“Pardons, friend.” Parith stepped aside, allowing an older woman to cross his path, before continuing on along the side of the street. He had an excited, almost cheerful gait, and chuckled to himself as she grumbled complaints in passing. It was mid-morning, and already quite warm. The narrow, dusty streets of the Outer Wall were busy with people. Most were poor peasants trying to get onto their daily lives, finding a job they could do or spending the previous day's wages on the food and produce they needed for today's meals.
Parith glanced ahead. There's the woman I saw earlier, further up the street. She was dressed in a plain brown dress, trying to guide two small children toward a gourd vendor sitting on a blanket. Parith's eyes bounced to the other side of the street. That man in the doorway is still there. He wore a grey tunic, looking down at his dusty bare feet.
There's not a lot of color here in the Outer Wall. Maybe it's just the dust we're all kicking up. The street sloped up a little bit, and a thin scraggly dog trotted by him. No City guards around, either. At least, none that I can see right away.
This was the third time he'd walked this section of the street, watching, listening, carefully checking. From ahead he began to smell the bread. There we go.
The rising road leveled and bent slightly to his right, and as he turned with it, he saw the bread vendor. He was an older man, with two small stools. He sat on one, and the other held a big basket piled full of golden loaves. Parith picked up his pace slightly, crossing to the vendor's side of the road. No guards near, and no other buyers in the way...
The old vendor glanced down at his sandal and bent over, reaching to adjust the strap. There's the moment! Go!
Parith jumped into a run. As he passed the basket, he snatched two loaves from the top of the stack. He tucked them into the open folds his shirt and dodged between two passers-by.
“Hey! My bread!” The old man's voice called out down the street, “Someone stop that thief!”
There should be an alleyway up here on the left. Are those footsteps behind me? Others looked on as he rushed past. There is is! Am I being followed?
Like a summer breeze stirring up leaves, he spun and slipped into the alley. In a moment, he crouched down behind a pair of large barrels there.
He held his breath for a moment, listening for any footsteps. I'd better not stay here long...
His eyes focused on the building across the alley. It was a sturdy structure, made of beams and brick. The building he was hiding against was taller, two stories. I can get up there, easy.
He heard shouting from the street. I'd better go now. He popped his head up above the barrel. He didn't see anyone in the alley, but the shouting was getting louder.
With a quick grunt, he jumped up onto the barrels. Now he could hear footsteps as well as blades being drawn. He squatted low and leaped across, pushing hard, then pulling up his feet. He hit the upper wall of the opposite building, but there were no holds. He planted his feet against the wall and pushed upward and back across the alley, twisting in the air. Now, grab!
He flung his hands forward and grabbed the lowest edge of the roof he had originally been under. His right hand landed on a loose ceramic tile, and slipped free. The other gripped securely, however, and he held on, dangling.
They're coming! Quick! Do it just like in the forest! Parith swung his legs up and hooked his knee and shin up onto the roof's edge. The slope made it difficult, but he pulled himself up and flipped over, lying flat on his back. He gently scooted his body away from the edge and he heard shouts and footsteps below.
Ok, maybe not as much like the forest... Parith held his breath until the commotion faded away. He checked the bread in his shirt. Still there, not smashed. Good.
After a moment, it went quiet. Voices became more distant, things returned to normal. He turned over, knelt on the roof slope, and snuck up to the crown. He peeked over the edge of the roof down onto the street. Everyone below had returned to their business, uncaring.
He smiled and nodded, then stood and walked across the rooftop.
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This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!
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Start the whole story from the beginning. Start from where this current story arc begins. Start from where the current story part begins
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!
Previous Scene, Next Scene
Start the whole story from the beginning. Start from where this current story arc begins. Start from where the current story part begins
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