Fendrossa eagerly scribbled on the parchment and handed it to the armored stranger. It would become evident to anyone versed in Vauni that this version of it was archaic; probably hundreds of arcs old. What Nauta wanted to make of that detail was entirely his own affair. But the two decaying hosts did not act as if their language was outdated in any way.
Fendrossa's note did not apologize for any anticipated difficulty due to any lapse of time. If Nauta had spent any time in any halls of learning in Sirothelle, he might have been able to note similarities to ancient Faldrunic texts from arcs around the founding of the city itself. Even the obvious haste with which the cadaverous gentleman was trying to convey his need, there was still peculiar approaches to his phraseology.
"Gone from our birth flesh have we been fled. Not of our will freely chosen. Torn and traded, the bite of insect, so innocently visaged, the cause. Aware and awake must ye be to this peril. All effort of care and caution be foremost to your foci of the many waiting in lie. Another soul be fitted to your flesh, your own bidden to abide in foreign incarnation, with bite so meek.
Upon mine hamlet was it so done. False friend taking his spoils while pursuing proved vain from swarm enclosing us. Finding ourselves cased in dying pause did soul then know the horror. Only he of hair wearing brown, adorned of stolen finery, hale and vigorous of one looking down upon six feet had free legs to goodly make his passage. Necrotic wield of domain responds all easily of malice at his whim. Had we of only the count of five bits ere his force imposed be, then a tale of justice this would sing.
Late by all meaning account is our stand, but not so for you. This ward be taken well as stigma 'gainst his scrying, aye his cast. Entrapped are we in village rendered void of life as we. Life held be happily yours, yet full escape, of mist and marks, denial is affronted ye while balance of life be off from death. Restoration be wagered at up odds through effort by one full of self, which lives in you. Ward reveals, protects in function being same. Symbols edging ward alight with threat, this being of a nature duel in proximity and injury, the latter hindered be.
In face of enemy, find your standing. Masked is all certainty his high or low of domain wielding be. Yet vision of returned bliss be one scene yet beyond filled fullness. It so will be through you, promise made from voice of mist. Promise warning also of failure proportioned as eternity. Only his blade, his heart stricken through, fills full this promise. Then journey of foot set forth in north may advance once more. Failure makes you a home, permanent the mist within.
Knowledge of purposed choice being you is not within my bounds, only certainty of promise, and threat. Making of mine this requiring does not spring from my heart. My sorrow is great to impact upon life not bound by promise, yet joy of success may inspire the endurance of will to freedom regain. Luck be my hope of your path."
In addition to this note, Fendrossa handed his guest a small, round disk. Appearing to be made of solid water, yet not cold or cloudy like ice. Nor did it melt with the warmth of his aukari hand. It was perhaps two inches across, and a tenth of that in thickness; already indented to accommodate the fingers and contours of his hand. There were no symbols to be seen, yet Fendrossa and his companion nodded confidently and pointed to what appeared to be the west, judging by the position of the unmoving sun in the sky.
Fendrossa's note did not apologize for any anticipated difficulty due to any lapse of time. If Nauta had spent any time in any halls of learning in Sirothelle, he might have been able to note similarities to ancient Faldrunic texts from arcs around the founding of the city itself. Even the obvious haste with which the cadaverous gentleman was trying to convey his need, there was still peculiar approaches to his phraseology.
"Gone from our birth flesh have we been fled. Not of our will freely chosen. Torn and traded, the bite of insect, so innocently visaged, the cause. Aware and awake must ye be to this peril. All effort of care and caution be foremost to your foci of the many waiting in lie. Another soul be fitted to your flesh, your own bidden to abide in foreign incarnation, with bite so meek.
Upon mine hamlet was it so done. False friend taking his spoils while pursuing proved vain from swarm enclosing us. Finding ourselves cased in dying pause did soul then know the horror. Only he of hair wearing brown, adorned of stolen finery, hale and vigorous of one looking down upon six feet had free legs to goodly make his passage. Necrotic wield of domain responds all easily of malice at his whim. Had we of only the count of five bits ere his force imposed be, then a tale of justice this would sing.
Late by all meaning account is our stand, but not so for you. This ward be taken well as stigma 'gainst his scrying, aye his cast. Entrapped are we in village rendered void of life as we. Life held be happily yours, yet full escape, of mist and marks, denial is affronted ye while balance of life be off from death. Restoration be wagered at up odds through effort by one full of self, which lives in you. Ward reveals, protects in function being same. Symbols edging ward alight with threat, this being of a nature duel in proximity and injury, the latter hindered be.
In face of enemy, find your standing. Masked is all certainty his high or low of domain wielding be. Yet vision of returned bliss be one scene yet beyond filled fullness. It so will be through you, promise made from voice of mist. Promise warning also of failure proportioned as eternity. Only his blade, his heart stricken through, fills full this promise. Then journey of foot set forth in north may advance once more. Failure makes you a home, permanent the mist within.
Knowledge of purposed choice being you is not within my bounds, only certainty of promise, and threat. Making of mine this requiring does not spring from my heart. My sorrow is great to impact upon life not bound by promise, yet joy of success may inspire the endurance of will to freedom regain. Luck be my hope of your path."
In addition to this note, Fendrossa handed his guest a small, round disk. Appearing to be made of solid water, yet not cold or cloudy like ice. Nor did it melt with the warmth of his aukari hand. It was perhaps two inches across, and a tenth of that in thickness; already indented to accommodate the fingers and contours of his hand. There were no symbols to be seen, yet Fendrossa and his companion nodded confidently and pointed to what appeared to be the west, judging by the position of the unmoving sun in the sky.
