Death of a Snowman [Kain]

[Fantol]

AV 511, day 8 of Spring He put the head on at last. Fantol clapped the snowman's scalp a few times, to sturdy the snow before he withdrew from his work. He took a good look at it. It was a sorry sight, but it would serve its purpose. The sorcerer turned and walked a few yards away from the snowman. It was afternoon, in this outer rim of the City. The sky was gray with clouds. He bent down on one knee and fished up his inkpen. It still had a little ink in it. He took off his gloves and drawed up the glyphs upon his palms again, as their visibility was faltering. When the decorative symbols covered his hands, he put his palms together and mumbled incantations of power. He could feel the energy start from his chest, surging through his shoulders, overarms, elbows and wrists to finally reach the hands. The energy came into view as it blazened the symbols in a sharp, white light. Fantol arose and put on his gloves again. He cast another glance at his creation of a snowman, almost afraid it would collapse again. Turning around, he faced it with his front - standing about five yards from it. His hands knuckled together tightly. Projection was no easy task, so he usually helped himself by engraving glyphs that bolstered his energies. He closed his eyes. First, there came the tickle of numbness in his arm as he detached its astral self. Then came the sense of power, as he felt his reach growing longer and longer, closing in on the snowman's disproportionate head. He stretched out his physical hand, marking the act of his magical one. He grinded ghostly fingers into the head, feeling the cold snow between his fingertips. When he felt sure of the grip he had, he ripped off the head from the rest of the body, turning and flinging the snowball as fiercely as he could in the other direction. Only when he opened his fiery orange eyes, did he see that the ball he had send propelling was headed directly towards another individual, walking close by to the alley he was in. In that split second he cringed as he followed its flight, dreading the snowball would unintentionally hit this person.

[Kain Snowsong]

Kain walked the streets this day with cane in hand. The snow crunched under foot and his breath fogged the air. With every step he extended himself with the cane, his new companion. In the recent days it never left his side though his skills with it showed little improvement. He was off to do more practice on the outskirts of the city and possibly visit a tavern or two on his way home. As he passed an alley a snowball, unexpectedly, pegged him in the side of the head. Over he went crashing into the adjacent building. He lay there momentarily, his vision doubled, as he tried to find the source of this situation. Before he could identify the trouble maker the snow from the roof of for mentioned building came crashing down atop his head and burying him to his neck. Just my luck Kain thought to himself.

[Fantol]

Fantol swore inwardly. He always had to get in conflict with someone. Perhaps there was a chance to remedy the act. The sorcerer spent a few moments on attaching his astral arm back to its physical self. He felt the numbness in his right arm, as it temporarily hanged loose by his side. He strode in a fast pace to the poor man who had not only been headshotted, but also buried in a pile of snow from a nearby roof. He thought of two possibilities: either, he could try ask for forgiveness and admit his fault - or he could conjure up a harmless lie. He found the lie most to his liking. He felt he had been blamed enough for his actions already in this city. "Lady Luck is a cruel mistress. I saw them fire at you, those cocky bastards!" he said, nearing Kain and reaching out with his arms to help the man up from the ditch of snow. If allowed to help him up, Fantol would heave him up by the arms and start brushing snow off him.

[Kain Snowsong]

Freed of the snow Kain leaned himself on Fantol's shoulder. He started to chuckle and that chuckle grew until Kain was nearly buckled in hysterical laughter. This was Avanthal and the people were kind, Kain knew he was being lied to but it mattered little to him. After laughing uncontrollably for several minutes it came to an abrupt stop. Kain turned and started digging into the pile of snow. Silently he crept on hands and knees until finally he found his cane. Standing upright he wiped what little snow from his knees.

"Probably just kids," he said with a wide mad looking grin. "Wouldn't be the first time the little bastards pelted me. But thus is the cost of being different." Kain looked Fantol over, blatantly, from head to toe. "You know what I'm talking about"