Walk Abouts

**This story is in direct corelation to Marcus' long absence**

"It was good of Mr. Darkmoon to grant me this leave Avatar knows this leg needs it", Thought Marcus as the wagon
carried him on to Minoc. They where a Vesperian Caravan but that was alright, he had left his uniform and weapon in a safe place. Being he was obviously injured they had loaded him into the wagon and he'd shared some Vesperian Ale, not his Covian Brandy which he himself was enjoying much. You could be civil but you didn't have to give em the key to Avatar's Heaven Neither! It was a an eventful ride only due to the frequency which the Vesperian Guards became spooked and went off patrolling the area. After a few days and nights travel they reached the camps just on the skirts of town. Marcus got off with a little help and still using a tree branch for a crutch he hobbled his way and within the hour was across and in the little town of Minoc proper. The honey Bees buzzed by as he ambled his way along the avenues. He had to ask a number of people before he was finally directed to the local healer. Upon getting their he received the best of frontiers medical help for his leg. The healer examining him at first frowned deeply as he prodded the bruised and swollen ankle. He then twisted it, illicitting a scream from Marcus as bone ground on bone. The healer nodded and handed him a few vials, telling him to drink one a day until he could stand on it without pain. He then splinted it up and sent Marcus on his way.

It would be many many months before Marcus would be able to walk again. The triple broken ankle was nearly totally destroyed, only through the use of the slightly magical vials of liquid (created through alchemy no doubt!) did he ever regain the full use of that ankle. His days were long, he had no hobby which he could entertain himself with, and nobody knew where he was, nor cared. The only time he ever left his bed was to hobble on his new crutch to what served as Minoc's Chapel to Avatar. He said his prayers here, none for healing himself but prayers for good fortune to the healers, Mister Darkmoon, the guardsmen he knew who were off adventuring, The Baron, Cove itself, and then he prayed to forgive himself for placing himself in this situation. He did this weekly until he no longer felt angry about his condition and then frequented the Chapel less but regularly paying the tithe, he also made sure to donate to the healers for the fine help they had given him.

The day finally came, he tried his leg and realized there was no pain and that he could run, jump, and kick just fine! He went and thanked the healers most profusely, paid a last visit to the Chapel and then went to bed that night. The next day he was off to Cove! On the way it rained horribly and eventually he was knocked sensless by an ogre. He will probably never remember a good portion of his travel home but what he does know is that the thing left him nearly naked!! Fortunately he does not recollect the fight nor most of his walk from that point back to town. To add insult to his injury he found his safe deposit box had been raided. Portions of his armor where missing!! How could he report in while out of uniform!?
"Woe is me" thought Marcus as he sifted through his few remaining possessions, hardly a thing left. "Mister Darkmoon will be angry...."

What Marcus did not, could not, know was that Mister Darkmoon was long dead. His prayers to Avatar had been unanswered unless in some darker less than expected way they had. Perhaps death had brought peace to Darkmoon, perhaps death was peace. These where the things that would trouble him most when he finally got news.....

He was back, now all he needed was his kit!!

In Avatar's Most Holy Name! For The Baron! For Cove! For her people! For Fame and for Glory!

Some Sketches!

[/OOC: Will add afew sketches later, Its good to be back! Click image for full view!/]

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