RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Crawa · **08-20-2010, 11:42 PM**

Chapter 5

Crawa sat in the library, studiously attempting to examine a volume concerning the history of Ul'dah. Esslar had promised her another quiz, and if she passed this one she could expect a cake with her dinner. So it was something of a nuisance when Garaf burst into the room, shouting excitedly.

"'Ey! You'll never guess what I found! S'grand I tell ya!"

Crawa didn't even lift her head to acknowledge him. "Go away! I'm studying!"

"Aww, ya can study later. Come 'n look at this!"

Crawa huffed and looked up from her book. "What is it?"

"I told ya! S'grand!"

"...What's a 'grand'?"

"S'somethin' really... ya know... grand! Ya comin' or not?" The young duskwight was practically hopping from one foot to another in excitement.

She scowled. "You're trying to get me in trouble again, aren't you?"

"Pffft, why'd I bother doin' that? 'Cides, tha' Old 'un 'n tha' Short 'un like ya too much fer ya ta get in too much trouble. Now come ON!" He bounced over to the door.

The wildwood sighed, rolling her eyes at Garaf's names for her grampa and Esslar. Putting her pen in the book to mark her spot, she rose to follow the boy. As she got close to him, she could smell the odors of sweat and smoke hanging about his person, and she held her nose shut. "You stink." Whether Garaf had heard her remark or not wasn't clear, as he was already halfway down the stairs.

She followed him out of the house and across the courtyard that was mostly occupied by Esslar's garden, and to the large mortar and wood building at the back of the compound. Esslar called it the warehouse, and Crawa had hardly ever gone inside - she'd barely ever had reason to. She caught up with a grinning Garaf at the large double doors that led inside, and peeked through them curiously. All she could see with a cursory glance was a large, shady, open interior filled with the detritus needed about the Temple that didn't have a regular purpose. She looked back to Garaf. "Well? What is it?"

Garaf wiggled his eyebrows and excitedly proclaimed, "Treasure!" Then he was off again, weaving through piles of stores and stocks and tools, and Crawa had little choice but to follow. When she found him again, he was leaning against a panel that was sticking up out of the floor. As she got closer, she realized it was really a trapdoor that led to a smaller room beneath them. "Go on! Take a look! S'grand!" he repeated.

With thoughts of evil spirits springing out of the dim slowing her steps, Crawa began to cautiously creep down the steep stairs. Garaf swiftly followed with a lantern in hand, and held it up high once they were both on the ground. As the two looked on, the small flame flickered its light over a hidden storage room filled with oddities from unknown places and times. A large, curved blade with a falcon emblazoned on the handle was mounted on the wall over a collection of heavy armor that looked like it would take a mountain to move. An assortment of tea cups, no two the same, rested on a table next to a flintlock with delicate silver engravings. An elegant fishing pole gathered dust beside a beautiful flute, and a few paces away a rough stone statuette of a wolf bared its teeth at them. A dozen other items were revealed in the wavering light, but the thing that Garaf stood next to, admiring above all the others, was a small clockwork doll made of brass and bronze. It sat in a wooden chair against the wall, its copper "eyes" seeming to glow as they caught the light and threw it back at them. "S'better 'n grand." Garaf repeated almost reverently.

A steady voice pulled their eyes back up to the top of the stairs. "Children? Come up from there." Esslar stood at the top, doing his best glower through his spectacles as the two of them reluctantly left their discovery and climbed back up to the warehouse. As soon as they were clear, the lalafell closed the trapdoor with a loud thud, sending dust flying everywhere. "You two shouldn't go down there."

"What is it, Mister Esslar? Where did all those pretty things come from?"

"From your honored ancestors, Missus Crawa. The items below are the treasured artifacts of your own heritage." And then, leveling a stern frown at Garaf, the lalafell stated: "They are not to be disturbed."

As he walked off, Crawa glared over at Garaf. "You were trying to get me in trouble again, stupid."

The boy stuck his tongue out in reply. "Was worth it though, huh?"

"... I have to study."

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The Grand Adventures of Little Garaf and Crawa [Closed]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes