Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Cezanne Abella]

---

Cezanne cursed herself as she looked forlornly into her pack. Her arms were impossibly laden with rolls and rolls of crisp, fresh parchment. She had been in such a flitting tizzy all morning that it never occurred to her to empty her pack before she left for Skara Brae. Inside her pack was a haphazard array of books, manuscripts, journals and…a half-eaten muffin.

“That’s what happened to my muffin!” Cezanne stood gazing gleefully at her pack as it sat agape on the ground, unfinished muffin pressed between two books. “Well, it’s still muffinesque….”

The shopkeeper peered at Cezanne over his wire-rimmed spectacles. His monstrously bushy moustache obviously disapproved of this internal struggle gone tragically external. Cezanne bit her lip and balanced the rolls of parchment acrobatically as she pondered her next move. She freed one hand by sticking the rolled packing paper containing her new quills between her teeth and biting down gingerly.

“One down…free teh goh…” She turned, positioning the bottle of ink in her left hand directly over her pack and squatting until the drop was a manageable distance. Plop.

“Tuuh down….”

The scrolls were the problem. They would never fit in her pack. She looked apologetically back to the moustached shopkeep, pleading with her eyes.

“Shir, cud ye ‘elf me o’er ‘ere? Ah ken git deh shcrollsh if ye cud jes put me pack o’er me shoulder.”

The shopkeep looked her up and down incredulously for a moment. He leaned down to fold over the flap on Cezanne’s bag, then slung the strap over her head and across one shoulder so that the load hung resting against her behind.

“Fank yeh!” Cezanne beamed, smiling through the parcel of quills still held firmly in her teeth as she used her hands to secure the armload of parchment. She turned slowly and strode carefully out the door of the shop. The giddiness in her step caused the pack to bounce against her rump with every other step as she nearly sprinted to the moongate. With no free hands for gesturing, she knew she’d never manage to cast a spell to recall. It was going to be a long walk home…

At least I have food…

[Cezanne Abella]

---

Cezanne wound her way carefully through the city gates of Luna, south toward Sanctus, and finally through the mountain pass that would lead her home. She squinted as she emerged into the evening rays of sunset, but she didn’t wait for her eyes to adjust as she gave a wide berth to the orc lord and grunt who stood chattering unintelligibly with one another near their outpost. As soon as she was out of their range and view, she cut sharply left and ducked under the shadows of the treeline, making her way home to the Bramble Rose Theatre.

Once inside, she dumped the slightly less crisp pile of parchment rolls onto the bar and smiled brightly. She dropped off her pack at the foot of the bar and busied herself lighting candles and lanterns, then went outside again to put out a fresh sheaf of hay for Covenant in the stable. She nuzzled him as he whinnied his greeting in high-pitched excitement, then left him to eat leisurely. She returned to the bar and sat on a barstool, too happy to consider the prospect of sleep.

One after another, she unfurled the rolls of parchment, dipping her new quill in ink and inscribing her announcement with flair. By the time the scrolls were done, it was nearly morning. She stopped to admire the last scroll before rolling it and piling it with the others.

Cezanne’s excitement bubbled over, and she quickly gathered the scrolls in her arms and started for the door before rethinking and remembering the disapproving moustache of the shopkeep from the day before. She dropped the load of scrolls and gathered a hammer and nails, slipping them into her pack. She pulled out the squashed demimuffin and took it out to the stable for Covenant, who pranced as he always did when he realized she’d brought him half-eaten goodies.

Returning to the bar, Cezanne took up her pack, slinging it across her shoulder in the same fashion as before. She grabbed a muffin from her food crate and stuffed half of it into her mouth, mindlessly slipping the other half into her pack. She gathered the scrolls into her arms, still chewing, and boisterously bounded out the door of the theatre for Luna, pack bouncing against her derriere as she made for the mountain pass.