Dear Celia,

I need your help. I doubt you’ll respond to this letter, but it’s worth a try. I’ve got nobody else to turn to, after all. Anyway, I’m dying. I’d like to visit my hometown one last time before I cop out, but I don’t think I could make it there on my own, what with the passing out, temporary blindness/deafness, and such.

I’m at the “Sheep’s Eye”, in Tybalt. Please come and help me…

- Flamel

~

Creed dropped the letter on the makeshift postman’s desk. “Anybody, Anywhere!” was the title of the establishment, which specialized in delivering letters to travelers. All they needed was a letter and a name, apparently.

“You want this delivered to some Celia chick?” the clerk asked. Flamel nodded and coughed, careful to cover his mouth. It was common courtesy to do so. He didn’t want to get any blood on the clerk, as he was just doing his job.

“Alright. That’ll be twenty-five arch.”

Creed paid the man and left. He felt light-headed now, and wanted to get back to his room at the Sheep’s Eye before he passed out. He was barely out the door when an onset of blindness set in, and he was forced to find something to lean against until it came back.

The madman, via waving his arms about, found something large and somewhat soft. He leaned his forehead against it and sighed with relief. At least he wasn’t going to walk into anyth-

“Hey!” the thing said. Flamel’s vision started to come back, though he wished it hadn’t. The thing he’d been leaning on was a rather large, fairly ticked off man. He opened his mouth to apologize, yet another mistake. Rather than a honey-sweet apology, a small puddle of blood dribbled out his mouth and onto the man’s shoes.

“Damn,” Creed thought, backing away from the man. He tripped over himself and wound up flat on his back, staring up at the angry behemoth. “This isn’t going to end well…”

“You son of a *****!” the man yelled, reaching down and grabbing Flamel by the collar of his shirt and yanking him onto his feet. “These shoes were expensive, you sick little ****!”

The man brought one meaty ham of a fist into Flamel’s face, sending his world into a tailspin. A second punch shattered his nose and brought the blindness back. By the third punch Creed was coughing up blood. With a fourth and final punch, he was out like a light.

“Elm!” shouted a chubby priest. He hobbled over and put a hand on the large man’s shoulder. “Leave him be. We’ve got to get to the next town and preach the word of D.A.M. Do not worry about a pair of shoes. Leave the man where he is, and let us go.”

Elm dropped Flamel and followed the fat man, leaving the madman in the middle of the street.

__________________

~BA Characters~

Quote:

Originally Posted by Ciroton Ciroton (3:30:08 PM): D'aww aiko called me intellegant. xD

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