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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Funny thing, how life works. Small things, like jewels, jobs, and rank get noticed, but that which is most obvious is frequently ignored. The ocean, the sky, the road - especially the road - generally means little to casual eye. Quite sad, since these are truly the only things you can ever really depend on when you need them.

 

This is one thing that Alkinae had learned to be true, a hard lesson taken to heart ages ago.

 

Once, he too chased the minute details of the mortal realm. Little stood in his way if he had a goal. However, every ambitious heart soon meets a more ambitious soul, and Alkinae was not one to let another be king of the hill. It cost him, and anyone who ever fell to ambition's venomous touch knows the price too well. He lie in the street, the ground concencrated with crimson rain. He cried, as dying men are ought to do, to any god, demon, or passer-by who would save him from fate. He waited on that road for an answer that was not to come.

 

But this was a different road, a seperate time. He felt the cool breeze pass, and trembled as the wind caressed him gently. Downhill, one could see a small town, precisely what he was searching for. Cities may be grand, but close groups have a soul. A steady pace, the occasional brief pause, and soon his trip was at a close. He walked into the local tavern, and the air escaped the room.

 

His answer had, in fact, came - just not as expected. His saviour actually expected him to keep his word, which is quite unusual with death-bed pacts. His job was simple; give up his lust for things and live for life itself. Protect life and nature with all the drive you once chased wealth. The forces of life themselves answered; they said "Be a druid or die." Not one to take death lying down, Alkinae accepted the offer. After a few near-fatal lapses, it became quite clear that he really would have to keep his end of the bargain to live. "What a shame," he said, thinking of the life he was forced to leave behind. The old path had died and a new door opened. With a sigh, he stepped through the door.

 

With a sigh, he stepped through the door. It was always the same now. At first, it wasn't so bad. Druids do exist, and they like to drink, too. But that was aeons ago - about three by now actually. Nature had given it's thrall a long life to do it's bidding, but some changes had to be made. Slowly, he came to resemble the trees he fought to save. Where once fine brown hair sat, a large, leaf-like crest rested. Leaf plate armored his chest and forearms, leaving exposed muscles of twig and branch in the gaps. A small, winglike leaf rested on either shoulder, and a series of vines and roots served as his legs. But he had grown accustomed to it, much as he had to the response it invoked in others.

 

"Wha, What.." A startled elderly gentleman arose from his seat. "I've seen a bit in my time, but I must say, you're new here. But," he grinned, "a customer is a customer. What can I get cha?"

 

"Any wine will do." The old man fetched his closest (and cheapest, because the stranger didn't look terribly wealthy) wine and poured a decent amount in an old glass. "Here ya go," he weezed through yellowed teeth as he placed the drink on the table. Alkinae smiled, took the brew, placed it on the floor, and put a root in it. "So, what is there to this little villa?"

 

The gentleman, watching the root suck up the liquor, almost missed the question. "Oh, not much here. The next town has a writing community, if yer interested in that sorta thing." A thin line drew where Alkinae's lips once were. "Thank you for the info and the drink." With that, he got up and proceeded out the door. "HEY!!!" He turned. " You didn't pay for your drink!"

 

"You shouldn't worry so much about the little things." He left for the next town, truly content for the first time since leaving his home plane (the maps had his forest right but his name wrong - hopefully other planes had more competent cartographers).

 

After reaching his destination, the Mighty Pen was fairly easy to find. An application later, smiled inwardly. Maybe things will finally change.

 

Maybe.

 

 

DarkLordOfSlackers@Yahoo.com

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Alkinae stretches his roots over the length of the Recruiter's Office as he waits for Wyvern's arrival, scratching at the weeds that are starting to grow in his hair as he wonders where the overgrown lizard could be. It had been nearly fourty eight hours since he had placed his application on Wyvern's desk, and the infamous Elder had yet to show his scaly hide. The plant druid sighs as his vines coil tighter around his applicant easychair, and he contemplates how he could potentially be taking a cold sprinkler shower and sunbathing instead of sitting in the cramped and messy office. The annoyed applicants thoughts are interrupted, however, as Wyvern suddenly barges in through the Office entrance wearing a tattered gardening outfit.

 

The reptilian Elder waves to Alkinae and immediatly rushes towards his desk, practically tripping over the applicants roots and dropping the Almost Dragonic Brand Rake™ he carries in the process. Seating himself at his desk and casting a grin of razor sharp teeth towards the plant-like entity, Wyvern immediatly takes out a small sack labeled "Danger: Bio-Hazard" and exclaims:

 

"Greetings Alkinae, apologies for getting to your application late. Before I start looking it over, I was wondering if you might be interested in investing in some Almost Dragonic Brand Fertilizer™, which would be ideal for you when it comes to body-building! Almost Dragonic Brand Fertilizer™... made from only the finest of toxic waste. Errr, that is to say, only the finest of 100% natural toxic waste!"

 

Alkinae gives Wyvern a cold stare, then quickly recedes his roots from all corners of the office as a silent response. The greedy Elder sighs upon seeing this, and quickly reads over Alkinae's application before hissing:

 

"Sssssay, so you've got an affinity for plants eh? The Summer solistice is here and carnival dates are the current craze, so maybe you could take a risk and pair up with the Mighty Pen's very own Waterlily?"

 

Alkinae frowns as Wyvern leers and casts a sinister stare towards him, then clears his throat and calmly responds:

 

"No thanks. I can't be concerned with the little things, such as dating and Summer solistices."

 

Wyvern scratches his scaly chiin in contemplation for a moment, and is about to respond when suddenly the main entrance of the Recruiter's Office opens again, this time with a forceful slam. Alkinae and Wyvern turn their heads, only to notice an old man standing at the entrance with a shotgun. Pointing a finger towards the plant druid and grimacing in a menacing manner, the old man wheezes:

 

"You! Try to not pay yer bartab, will ye? Not significant enough for ye, is it? Well sonny boy, I took on after you on my trusty mule Bessy, with only my shotgun and a couple o' loafs of bread to eat. And now, I gotcher right where I wants ya! Better pay up for that cheap wine, boy."

 

The old man turns his eyes from Alkinae to Wyvern for a moment, and they suddenly widen in surprise. Pointing the same finger towards the overgrown lizard, the old man coughs:

 

"And you! I shoulda known you two were in cohoots! Why, if I had a penny for every time you've burnt down one of my bar locations by accident, I'd be a rich billionaire, I would! And ya kept comin back, you lil varmit. You never did pay me back any of that debt. I'll show you young whippersnappers!"

 

With that, the old man cocks his shotgun and steps forward, only to accidentally place his foot on the metal end of the Almost Dragonic Brand Rake™ that Wyvern had dropped earlier. The wooden handle of the rake is propelled upward and slams the old man in the face, knocking him over and rendering him unconscious. The cheaply fabricated garden utensil then immediatly falls apart.

 

"Well waddaya know..." mutters Wyvern in bewonderment, his eyes fixed on the immoble form of the bartender as he stamps Alkinae's application ACCEPTED. "Almost Dragonic Brand Rakes™ seem to be good for something after all!"

 

;-)

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application, Alkinae. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :) I'm looking forward to reading more of your stories, as well as participating with you in community events, starting with the recent carnival. ;-) Once again, welcome!

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