Sometimes it is strange, people seem to have mood swings over different times of the year. Heat and sun bring out the best in people. It turns people who would normally walk by each other, to smiling and even offering a friendly nod. It sets people into the swing of their every day life. People buy more, spend more and work harder. There seems to be more children in the Summer months than all the rest of the seasons added together. Happy voices shouting and laughing down streets, or greens. It was virtually impossible to walk from one end of a market to another without nearly falling over one of these children. There however is always the opposite face to a coin...

 

...Smashing rain, causing puddles to flow into small rivers in the gutters, that were then being hammered by the steady flows of water streaming off of slate roof tops. Lightning spreading like a bush fire across the sky. Forks angling down across the skyline as if the Forsaken had been loosed in this city, and thunder claps that made the city shake to its foundations. The weather had not turned for four hours, and it did not look like it was going to let itself calm any time soon.

 

Anyone could be forgiven for thinking that it was the onset of evening, but it was only just past midday. The dark clouds that rolled overhead gave more of an evening feel, but there was noone outside to take any notice. Tobiath stood at the window of the inn that he had decided to stay in for the night. He was on one of his...errands you could call them...but he always enjoyed it when the weather was like this. It made him want to stand in the middle of the street with only his breeches and a vest with his arms stretched to either side of him and his face pointing up. The feel of each rain drop as it collided with his skin, making his face tingle all over as the rain fell continuously...The thought made Tobiath sigh with longing in his heart. The simple things made him happy, but he had not smiled for a long time. Happiness to him was a knot of emotion encased in an aromour of other emotions such as hatred, anger and fear that swelled inside of him. He hardly ever felt a good emtion these days. The last time he smiled he had stood over the body of a limp man. A man who had been broken in many ways, a man who had been broken over a long period of time. He however never allowed that thought to touch his memory anymore. It was locked within that cage of raging emotions.

 

Blinking he saw something move in the corner of his vision. It was strange that the smallest of movements in the very corner of your sight always attracted your attention more surely than the Gleeman juggling fire infront of your nose. Tobiaths head snapped round and he saw an uncontrolled cloak flap around a corner of an alleyway. Tobiath moved quickly, moving towards the door he pulled the leather gauntlets out from where they had previously been tucked into his belt at the base of his spine. No sooner had he put them on he was then pulling the cowl of his cloak over his head to shadow his already dark face. The cloak was made of good thick cloth and it had the tinge of dark purple to it, but that could only be seen if you knew it was there. To most it was black as the night. Fastening the collar of the cloak so the hood and the cloak would stay put in this weather Tobiath moved quickly after the the cloak that disappeared.

 

Touching the hilt of his sword Tobiaths mouth started to fill with saliva. It was not for worry and not through fear, it was through some strange excitement that he felt when he allowed the cage of emotions to rush into every limb in his body. The rain was singing to him, every time a drop hit him it was like the scream of someone dying but it only lasted as long as the drop made a noise. Hundreds of drops were crashing into Tobaith at this momeent though, his head was swimming with the noise of these screams as his senses became higher than normal. He did not hear these screams however, he just strode on. His boots making little noise as he walked straight through the streams that ran down the road threatening to sweep anything not held fast from its position. Sometimes the water came up above his ankle, but his boots were made well. Tobiath turned down the alleyway where the cloak had gone and he did not have to walk far when he saw the cloaks owner. Huddling up against the wall of a building he had that same piece of clothing wrapped around himself and he looked like he was shivering. The man looked up at Tobiath and gave out a snort of a laugh. "The dark ones own mood this weather!" Looking for a reaction Tobiath just looked into the mans eyes as he walked up to him. His step never slowed, but the smoothness he drew his sword would have been impossible for most people picking up the weapon. The hilt was the same length as the thick blade and in all it was no larger that a normal sword, but it was still effective, because when Tobiath took one more step the mans head was rolling on the paving at Tobiaths feet. His steps never faltered, and his face never changed.

 

Striding to the other end of the alley, the murderous act that Tobiath had just carried out had not really crossed his thoughts, the only thing that had invaded those thoughts was how to get back to his room in the inn without being noticed by any of its patrons. He only needed a couple of seconds to work out his plan and just before he stepped into the open Tobiath pushed himself against a wall and started to climb. Using his hands to lift himself he placed a foot on to a low sill, then jumping up to grabbed the edge of the roof on the opposite side of the alley. His movements were fluid but his gauntleted hands were not the best to be grabbing hold of rain slickened stone and slate. Pulling himself up he ran across the roof tops to the end of the alleyway he had originally come from and without stopping he leaped into the air and rolling as he hit the ground he rolled into the alleyway next to the inn. Mimicking his way up onto the roof again he found his window and climbed in...

 

...Sometimes it is strange, people seem to have mood swings over different times of the year. cold and rain bring out the worst in people. It turns people who would normally walk bye each other, to cut-throats who would be after your purse more than meet your eyes. It disjoints people from the swing of their every day life. People buy less, spend less and work less. There seems to be more rats in the Winter months than all the rest of the seasons added together. Diseases spread, tand murders increse. It was virtually impossible to walk from one end of a market to another without nearly falling over one of these rats. There however is always the opposite face to a coin...

~Nadeann~

 

Sometimes it is strange, people seem to have mood swings over different times of the year.  The cold was insidious, creeping into joints made old and stiff with age, and further impeding movement for those less able to venture beyond their doors.  Rain and damp festered like old wounds and brought back renewed pain and hurts, just as if they had been some presentiment for those very same weather conditions.  Leaden clouds overhead turned from silver to steel to a ponderous black that then let sheets of rain down onto the now-greasy cobblestones below.

 

And then came the thunder.  Crashing and booming like the surf on a tempestuous sea it came, unleashed like a woman’s fury.  Shadows in the clouds danced with light as the inevitable lightning forced its way through to illuminate the dark streets with an eerie glow.  People ran for what cover they could find, but there were not many people braving the streets at this time.  Wise of them, all things considered, as dark things could lurk on dark nights.

 

The day had not been kind to Nadeann anyway.  The young seldom tolerated the old; they showed no respect, no, not like back in her day.  Back then, older people were considered venerable or experienced.  At the worst they were considered busybodies, but people still treated them with honest respect.  Nadeann snorted in spite of the falling rain, shaking some drops from the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face.  Nowadays, older people such as herself, almost out of her fortieth decade, were a hindrance, a throwback to a time that was no longer now and therefore obsolete. 

 

Why had she chosen to go out now?  It was simple.  A young woman towards the end of her pregnancy was having some difficulties sleeping and loved to hear singing before she slept.  There wasn’t much kindness in this world, and Nadeann considered it a personal goal to make at least one person’s life a little brighter if she possessed the ability to.  She shrugged her cloak around her and made her way to the small house on the other end of Bright Street and occasionally looked up at the shrouded windows, curtains tenaciously shut to keep the weather outside and whatever cheer on the inside.  Her mind picked up a little snatch of a tune and she started trying to think up some lyrics that would grant hope or at least a restful sleep.

 

Her gaze flickered once to the cloaked figure hurrying down a side street, but she paid it no more heed than she would any other in this downpour.  No rational person would be outdoors in this, unless they were guarding something.  Even the official guards would balk slightly at having to stand outside in this, except the truly devoted ones.  Idealists!  Nadeann quickened her step and walked on, the young expectant mother’s house in sight.

 

There were, of course, those that could not afford a roof or shelter in the big cities.  In the smaller towns and villages a person with nowhere to stay could, at a pinch, be put up with someone that didn’t mind sharing or who had an extra bed.  In the cities, however, it always seemed as if it were either beneath the owner of the house, or far too much trouble to go to.  Simple charity, it seemed, was thin on the ground these days.  Her eyes saw a ragged bundle huddled miserably against a wall, trying to stay out of the rain as much as possible.  It had mixed results.  Pausing momentarily, Nadeann saw that the bundle was not a carelessly left sack but a person trying in vain to keep dry.  She turned to the bundle and spoke, raising her voice only slightly to be heard over the crashing thunder.

 

“It’s a foul night to be out.  Most inns should be full, but you can try.”  She dug in her pouch for a large silver coin of Andoran origin and flicked it towards the bundle.  A scrawny hand, grubby from a long time on the streets reached out eagerly to catch it and, despite the rain the rest of the man’s head and face peeked out to see the face of his benefactor.  Matted hair and a ragged beard framed dull eyes.  Eyes that held a trace of wonder that settled into determination as he pushed himself to his feet.  Nadeann smiled under the roof of her hood.  It was amazing what a cloak concealed.  Under the privacy of a cloak could be a Ruler or a Renegade, a beggar or a noble. 

 

“Make sure you head to one of the inns of lower repute.  They are less likely to turn you away or make you sleep in a stable that way, but don’t let them con you – there is enough there for a good meal, an overnight stay and a hot bath.”  The man would be about her own age, deprived the basic comforts of life that most people took for granted.  The streets did not lend to an easy life and it could so easily have been her at some points in hers.  This was the least she could do.  He nodded at her, still at a loss for words and scurried off, into the clouded embrace of the rainy night.  She hoped he would find some comfort, and continued along the road.

 

Her night would end in songs, a mug of mulled wine and a sit before a great fire before venturing back out into the night.  A relatively good night for a relatively good person, but then again there is always the opposite side to every coin…