I have decided that I like the short and frequent post system for writing chapters, because it helps to keep things fresh in people's minds to see a weekly post of something short, rather than a whole mass of megabytes of text every month (And a half, usually). Thus, I present the following. Its a chapter that links a few of my plotlines together, and sets the bases for Destral 19, which is also in the works, although slightly different to what you might remember from my last post, ages past. The chapter will remain without a title until I find something appropriate. This was written to the sound of the OST to Cowboy Bebop - Blue, track 15, Road to the West. Not that it matters. Most of my writing is to this tune nowadays. I have also started working on a novel, in Spanish, although I will eventually translate it.

Its good to be back, and to see that the NuRPG remains. Laters all.

Prelude to Destral 19 - PART I

Like every other afternoon, the breeze was coming in from the sea, bringing with it clamour of seagull fighting over the scraps from the fish market that were being thrown back into the sea. A few of the larger fishing boats were preparing for their nightly runs, their captains bragging to each other at the top of their voices about how tonight's haul of speckled eels and quartz man-o-wars were going to be the best of the season. The sun was hanging lazily in the sky, just off the horizon, its dying glow washing the lightly clouded sky in tones of deep amber, rosy lavender and fiery red. Deep within the heart of Ahren, bells were ringing, their deep tones echoing all over town, announcing the much awaited end of the working day.

Renton, the owner of Ahren's prosperous chocobo stable, shuffled the papers on his desk, looking for the contract he had signed with the dark-haired stranger. At last he found it, near the bottom of the pile. He read over it quickly, checking the date on it against the one on the finely crafted wooden calendar that rested on his desk, next to the inkwell. He didn't really have to, he had been checking the paper nearly every day since the foreigner had left. It had been almost five weeks ago that the swordsman and his two companions had came into the stable, looking for three black chocobo to take them to Skenic. They had had no money, and had left him an assortment of trinkets as down payment for the mounts, among them a large, uncut emerald, about the size of a nectarine, which had caught his eye, and old Gamsley's, immediately. Setting the paper aside, he stuck his hand inside his tunic and pulled out the key that hung from his neck on a thick length of leather cord. With it, he unlocked the drawer hidden beneath the desk. With a creak, he pulled it open, and from it the small leather pouch that rested atop the deed to the stable and the birth certificates of each of his chocobo. He tipped the pouch, and the emerald rolled out, rolling unevenly over the table before coming to a halt next to his hand. The last remnants of sunlight that filtered through the dust-choked high window hardly reflected off the rough surfaces of the stone, giving it the semblance of a lump of worthless glass, but both Gamsley at the pawn shop and Rivnell, the cranky old gemcutter that had once been among the revered masters of his art, had told him its real worth. Uncut, the gem was worth a couple thousand at the most. Suitable worked by a master, and fitted into an appropriate setting, it would fetch a king's ransom. Renton's eyes strayed from the gem back to the date on the contract. The stranger, one Destral Minare, had had until last monday to return with the payment to reclaim his stone. Renton had given him one week over the stipulated deadline, for adventurers and travellers where a dangerous lot when wronged. And despite the contract, which was absolutely and perfectly valid, and had no ammendments or signs of wear, he had woken each day fearing that the stranger would return, praying that he wouldn't show up again, hoping that the gem would be his. And finally the day had come.

"Father," Renton jumped, instinctively grabbing the gem and clutching it to his chest. his eyes momentarily bulging before he realised that the voice was his daughter's. Easing up slightly, he returned the gem to its pouch, where it clinked softly with the rest of the items inside. The pouch he placed back in the drawer, which he then locked. Finally returning the key to its place beneath his tunic, he looked up at his daughter, who was still standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Lalline? What is it?" he said softly, beckoning her forward. He couldn't see her face, but he could sense that she was unsettled at the way he had jumped. As she came closer, the quartz pendant that hung from her neck caught a stray beam of sunlight, reflecting it into Renton´s eyes.

"Iñm sorry, Father, did I interrupt you?" she said as she reached the desk and placed a small hand on his. Renton noticed, for the umpteenth time in the last month, that the choker was way to big for her, instead looking like a necklace on her thin neck. But it was better that way, he thought. Little girls didn´t wear chokers, they wore necklaces and lockets. Chokers were for slightly bigger girls who played completely different games...

Shaking his head slightly to clear the thought from his mind, Renton looked up into his daughter's face.

"No, honey, I was just finishing. Let's clean up and head over to Angie's to get some dinner."

"Father, why is it we always go to Angie's when its your turn to cook?" Lalline asked, flustered. Renton made a grimace at his daughter's reprimand. She was less than sixteen summers old, and already she was beginning to become like her late mother. He didn't like it, but he realised that it would help her to straighten up her husband if he turned out to be some lazy, drinking, whoring cur. The gods knew her mother had straightened him out when he was younger, although now that she was no longer with them, he admitted to himself, he was a bit freer to enjoy life better. In fact, once he had the emerald worked, he could probably get someone else to work the stables for him and retire. He had been thinking about taking a couple of workers, but it had never quite become one of his priorities. Once he had the money, though, things would be different.

"Today we are celebrating, Lalline," he finally said. Yes sir, they would be very different. "We are celebrating that soon, we will be very rich."

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