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Delivery times may vary, especially during peak periods. Special financing available. Licking a paw she cleaned herself one last time, enjoying a few final moments in this form, and then leapt from the window, shimmering before spreading wide, snowy white wings and gliding silently in search of the departing figure. Pardigan hurried down the darkened alleyways, the houses crowding closer together the further he got into the poor quarter. At several points, the buildings actually touched above him and the alley became a pitch-black tunnel, blocking out even the faint ambient light that had lit his progress so far.
Earlier in the evening, the oil-lamps would have been lit, but it was late now and the oil had long burned away. He came to The Stag, an inn on Barrow Street that was favoured by traders from the market square. At the end of Barrow Street he slowed to a cautious walk.
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Market Square was in front of him, a regular hangout for drunks and beggars who tended to group together. Even at this time of night there would probably be a few milling around. You could be walking around at midday and most would be sleeping like it was midnight, and then times like now, they would be up and about sucking on a bottle and probably wondering idly where the sun had gone to.
Keeping to the shadows as best he could, he moved into the square being careful to skirt the darker parts at the edge. Picking up his pace he had to clamp his hand over his nose and hold his breath as he sidestepped several piles of rotting vegetables; the warmth of the night rich in their pungent odours. Three drinkers grouped around a spluttering fire were singing and laughing as they passed a small barrel. Pardigan shuddered, and wondered at the mystery that was adulthood and at what age you lost your mind and did crazy things like that. At 12 years old, Pardigan dreaded the thought of waking up one morning as an adult.
To have had all the fun sucked out of his life, replaced by the need to scowl at people and tell everyone off for not seeing the world his way. Growing old was inevitable, growing up was not. He and the others had made several vows that they would never grow up and would sail the coast in their boat The Griffin, for a lifetime of fun, adventure and good times.
Casting another look at the small group, he moved on. The square was crossed without incident and he started down The Cannery, a street so named because of all the fish canning shops that lined its sides as it went down the hill towards the city's little port.
During daylight hours, it was one of the busiest areas of town, with fishermen hauling their catch up from the port and the canneries bustling with wagons shipping out their product all over the realm.
At this hour, all was deserted and Pardigan passed down the pungent street without incident, a few squabbling rats its only nocturnal residents. The largest of the inns around the harbour, it never closed.
Flight of the Griffin - Griffin | Songs, Reviews, Credits | AllMusic
On a warm night like tonight, even at this late hour, there could be people sitting outside hoping for the comfort of a small breeze to come in across the sea. The sound of music drifted up to him accompanied by the sound of voices laughing and talking — there was no way he could escape being noticed. He would have to cross right in front of the entrance to get to where The Griffin was moored. Drawing his coat about him, he walked on, a shiver running the length of his spine - his nerves once again on edge. A lone figure sat on a barrel under the main window, bathed in a pool of light from a lantern that hung above the door.
Keeping his eyes averted and with his heart beating in his ears, Pardigan tried not to stumble on the uneven cobbles in his haste to get past. A sudden movement from behind and he spun round in time to see a dark figure loom up with arms outstretched. With a cry, Pardigan stepped back, tripped over something and then hit the ground hard, pain instantly screaming from his back and left ankle.
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Shadows gathered about him and he tried to struggle up but someone flipped him face down and sat on his back. Powerless to move or even breathe properly - flutterings of panic threatened to overcome him. Footfalls surrounded him and he waited for the touch of a knife.
A lantern was lit and he gazed up into the shadowy faces of his friends. Tarent, for that was his name, reached down and pulled Pardigan to his feet. Waves of relief filled Pardigan and he smiled, his anger slipping away.
Smaller than the others with a tangled mop of red hair, Loras was peering up at Pardigan with a frown etching shadows on his face. Pardigan finally shook his head in wonder at his friends, then checked up and down the path for observers. Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out a moneybag, recently the property of a certain local merchant, and fished out a silver coin that he tossed to Tarent.
Flight Of The Griffin
Now, back in the company of his three friends, Pardigan finally felt safe. Quint had found it in a terrible state, rotting in a small river, off the main estuary to the city. The boat had conveyed the feeling of abandonment and the only other inhabitants had been a few mice and lots of spiders. Quint had spent the first few weeks alone and in fear, expecting a gang of cutthroats to reclaim their vessel at any moment. Then, as the weeks had turned to months, he had realised The Griffin , for that was the name he had found under layers of grime, really was abandoned and he began to relax.
The Flight of the Griffin
The hull was sound, had no leaks and it had several cabins plus a good-sized cargo area. The problem with the boat had simply been neglect. To obtain a free quote, please use our online quoting tool provided below, or call toll free The city has an estimated population of about 22, residents who enjoy a friendly atmosphere, top-flight amenities and facilities, and tons of employment and entertainment options.
Griffin boasts a great park system and is noted for its breathtaking landscape. No wonder it has been filmed for some famous movies and shows.