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| - From high in the sky you look down. Around you the air is crisp, clean, and thin. The stars shine steadily around you. Below, far below, you see patterns of light grey and sparkling dark emptiness. You dive down, silently. As you get nearer to the light grey you start to hear the wind whistling past your ears. You come closer still and realize that the light grey are night-time clouds; as you dive through them you realize too that the sparkling dark was a hole in the cloud-scape, below which was a small city on a bay, at the mouth of a river. You wake up.
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| abstract
| - From high in the sky you look down. Around you the air is crisp, clean, and thin. The stars shine steadily around you. Below, far below, you see patterns of light grey and sparkling dark emptiness. You dive down, silently. As you get nearer to the light grey you start to hear the wind whistling past your ears. You come closer still and realize that the light grey are night-time clouds; as you dive through them you realize too that the sparkling dark was a hole in the cloud-scape, below which was a small city on a bay, at the mouth of a river. You're flying now, soaring over the bay to the torch and lantern-lit city. Now you're soaring over, among, and around the rooftops and chimneys of the city. You briefly rise over a hill-ridge thrusting into the city from the north, passing by a solitary watchtower and lighthouse. On the other side, you fly along dark alleyways, passing over a brightly light and raucous tavern, eventually lighting upon a rooftop. Below you, three men are talking. One man is holding a younger, smaller man in a secure lock. You recognize the captive as Xiram, the Chieftain's son from the Vanishing Isle. Xiram looks confused and frightened, which is understandable as the remaining man is holding a sharp sword. The captor grunts. Here now, stop struggling. It'll just make what we've been paid for, harder. Xiram's confusion gives way to a panic. Paid for? Look, here! If you want money, there's some in my purse! Take it! Let me go! If that's not enough, I can get more! Just let me go.! Nah, nah. says the other one. We've been paid all proper-like. Got to do what we've been paid for, else what kind of men would we be? 'Twouldn't be professional at all, at all. Proper pay for proper work, and proper work for proper pay. Now hold still. And with that, the swordsman stabs Xiram with an upthrust through the belly into the heart. As Xiram's eyes bug out, the swordsman twists the blade then pulls it out. Bubbling blood gushes forth once, twice, and then settles to a smooth flow. That was a right strange man, what paid for his death. mutters the once-captor. Swordsman wipes his blade on Xiram's body, sheathes it, and begins walking away. The other follows him. Eh. All nobs is strange. I'm thinking New Paril. As the two men wander away, Xiram's body lies cooling in the alleyway. You wake up.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)