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About Morindin

  • Birthday 06/22/1984

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  1. Morindin

    I hear you

    Thanks for the comment Kat! Changes made both to the syllable and the "better" rhyming with "feather". Hopefully it scans better now
  2. Morindin

    I hear you

    Apologies for the poor title....that bit tends to be where the mind shuts down lol. I hear you in my darkest times, and in those times of light. I see your work in leaf and breeze, At daytime and at night. I feel your hand upon my path, I sense your prescence, near, And though at times the way is clouded, You leave no room for fear. Your spirit watches over me, A constant, faithful friend, It lives, it burns, it drives me on, From now until the end. Hear these words and know my heart, As we journey on together, And with your help, despite what comes, May burdens be a feather.
  3. The weather beaten face creased in a small smile as Morindin, nae Solivagus, eyed his questioner up and down. The Staff stayed quiet in his hand, showing no reaction to the soul infront of him. Not that that meant anything for certaIn, of course. It had been fooled before. "I must say, despite the troubles that seem to have befallen you, I much prefer this greeting to my first ever encounter at the keep. That time I was met by a seemingly insane green creature, swamped with paperwork that threatned constantly to bury him at any second! Perhaps some quiet is what the place needed for a while, cuts down on the amount of red tape. "As to who I am, my name is Morindin, wielder of the Staff of Law, at your service and the keeps." Morindin bowed, his long dark robe flowing about him. Yet despite his words and tone, the stranger before him still looked doubtful. He couldn't blame her he supposed. It had been a long time, and he did look like he had just crawled out of a grave. "You smell like it too", the voice of the Staff echoed in his head. It sounded distinctly amused. "I didn't ask you to bring me back" he sent back irritably, a frown crossing his face as he attempted to convey his displeasure. "I was perfectly happy sleeping until you dragged me out of there." "Sleeping, or sulking?" With a loud HARRUMPH! he shut down communication with the Staff. The last thing he needed was its sarcastic comments invading his head. Besides, he had a horrible feeling it was telling the truth. He turned his attention back to the stranger before him. "I am sorry, getting rather old. Mind wanders now and then. Is there anyone from the old days left who might be able to vouch for me? Peredhil? Wyvern? Appy? They cannot all be gone surely."
  4. A cold wind blows across the grounds of the mighty Keep. Born of the mountains of a distant land, it carries the bitter feel of snow and ice, and the sour tang of death itself. Across the surrounding grassland it weaves its way, until finally it reaches the ancient graveyard, burial ground of past writers both loved and loathed. As if guided by some unknown purpose or will the wind slips between the stone slabs, seeking, searching. At last it comes to rest on one in particular. Older than some stones yet younger than many others it bears a long forgotten name, intricatly carved. As the wind settles above the ancient marker an ancient and withered voice appears to spring from nowhere, accompanied by the haunting sound of pipes. "He who was lost has now been found. The one who had perished, again must rise!" The invisible pipes begin to play more urgently, becoming faster and faster, calling, summoning. Black thunder clouds carrfied by the wind spit lightning and rain, casuing the earth to tremble and shake. Finally with a titanic BOOM! the earth splits infront of the grave marker rending in two. The music stops and all is now silent. A figure rises from the now open grave. Draped in a long black cloak, carrying an ancient looking staff, he streches and groans as if waking from a long sleep. Warily he looks about, surpressing a smile at the sight of the familiar fortress that he remembered as home. Slowly, staff tapping on the ground before him, he made his way towards it. What a surprise it would be for his old friends...if any were still alive. The stone that marked the now empty grave leant drunkly, yet the name was still visible. The name, was "Solivagus"
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