And what of the other member of the black street gang? The one they thought was lost, the one who'd withdrawn himself for so long from the others. To find that out my dear friends we must search him out ourselves.
Lets pull away from the busying of the artisans putting the finishings to the new inn they jointly owned but he himself had last seen only in a blueprint when Yaef was still alive.
Floating high into the blue winter sky above Elenkess we drive South and West. Past the Riverfolk below loading their boats for the trip Eastward. Through the choking smoke rising from Bell forge and onwards towards the imposing castle at the city's heart. Then swiftly South and down toward the small houses, shops and alleys which make up the backstreets bordering Westhill with New markets.
There he is... you see him? On that roof with the small gang of youngsters...
Eriamas leant over the rooftop waiting for his mark to turn the corner.
"Is he nearly here?" One of the older kids asked. (I use this term broadly for the youngest was a little over twelve in years)
Eriamas turned nodded and put his index finger to his lips.
The neatly dress gentleman in the street below looked like he was in great haste. His bushy brows (a feature he seemed to have groomed and grown to perfection, perhaps as a result of owning very little other hair on his face or head) were furrowed with concern. Bottles of varying shapes and sizes clanked precariously in his hands and arms.
"NOW!" Eriamas jumped up closely followed by his gang of tykes...
*SPLAT*
The flame brow'ed man saw the first egg land at his feet, turning to look up was his first mistake. The next three eggs to follow hit him squarely on his face, head and chest. He now knew he was under attack but by the time he began to move toward the cover of a shop awning he was pelted with a second volley. This time he lost his balance and grip of all the bottles he had in his care.
The smash of his cargo and the yelp from the steaming, stinking heap that lay in the street was the indicator to the gang to make their get away.
"Over the roof!" Eriamas jumped followed by the rest.
Climbing over two more buildings and down a prepared rope in the alley behind Blackspring Avenue they knew they were safe. After a short burst of laugher and self congratulation the gang split.
As Eriamas walked with Meldria (they all knew that even if they felt safe now, travelling in pairs for the route back was a wisdom born from experience.)
"He looked pretty upset, Eri?"
"Aye he did, and well he should after what he did to Wilras. Bigots will always get theirs when I get wind of it."
Meldria nodded and carried on walking in silence as she wasn't entirely sure what a bigot was. She resolved to find out, as she certainly didn't want to be one for fear of getting covered in rotten egg herself.
Lets pull away from the busying of the artisans putting the finishings to the new inn they jointly owned but he himself had last seen only in a blueprint when Yaef was still alive.
Floating high into the blue winter sky above Elenkess we drive South and West. Past the Riverfolk below loading their boats for the trip Eastward. Through the choking smoke rising from Bell forge and onwards towards the imposing castle at the city's heart. Then swiftly South and down toward the small houses, shops and alleys which make up the backstreets bordering Westhill with New markets.
There he is... you see him? On that roof with the small gang of youngsters...
Eriamas leant over the rooftop waiting for his mark to turn the corner.
"Is he nearly here?" One of the older kids asked. (I use this term broadly for the youngest was a little over twelve in years)
Eriamas turned nodded and put his index finger to his lips.
The neatly dress gentleman in the street below looked like he was in great haste. His bushy brows (a feature he seemed to have groomed and grown to perfection, perhaps as a result of owning very little other hair on his face or head) were furrowed with concern. Bottles of varying shapes and sizes clanked precariously in his hands and arms.
"NOW!" Eriamas jumped up closely followed by his gang of tykes...
*SPLAT*
The flame brow'ed man saw the first egg land at his feet, turning to look up was his first mistake. The next three eggs to follow hit him squarely on his face, head and chest. He now knew he was under attack but by the time he began to move toward the cover of a shop awning he was pelted with a second volley. This time he lost his balance and grip of all the bottles he had in his care.
The smash of his cargo and the yelp from the steaming, stinking heap that lay in the street was the indicator to the gang to make their get away.
"Over the roof!" Eriamas jumped followed by the rest.
Climbing over two more buildings and down a prepared rope in the alley behind Blackspring Avenue they knew they were safe. After a short burst of laugher and self congratulation the gang split.
As Eriamas walked with Meldria (they all knew that even if they felt safe now, travelling in pairs for the route back was a wisdom born from experience.)
"He looked pretty upset, Eri?"
"Aye he did, and well he should after what he did to Wilras. Bigots will always get theirs when I get wind of it."
Meldria nodded and carried on walking in silence as she wasn't entirely sure what a bigot was. She resolved to find out, as she certainly didn't want to be one for fear of getting covered in rotten egg herself.
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