Post by Christopher Black on Feb 27, 2008 23:09:04 GMT -5
(To those that read this, please know that I have been on a 2 year Hiatus from Role Playing so this might not be the best work you have seen. Alas, it will do.)
The heat from the midday sun was disorienting as a slender man emerged from the edge of the cool forest. He quickly surveyed his surroundings with small glances in every direction he could. On the breeze, a putrid mix of scents wafted his way. There were people near. His bright blue eyes peered through his hood down at a small settlement that lay no more than 100 yards from him, resting in the shadow of a great mountain. He struggled to remember the last time he had a meal, wincing at a sharp hunger pain. He knew he wouldn’t make over the mountain without food and water. Though he clearly detested the idea of being around a civilization, he knew that his only chance for survival was to re-stock his food and water supplies. With the slightest of nods and a larger sigh, he decided to make a short stop in the town and so began the short trek towards the settlement.
The slender man struggled against the flow of people going about their daily lives. This type of common routine bored him as he forced his way through the hordes of mindless drones. After a forceful bump into an elderly man, he reached his destination, an old inn. Its windows caked with dust and silt and on its door hung a sign that said “The Goat’s Horn.” He grasped the doorknob but froze as he looked at the door. The glass panes that intricately decorated the ancient door were somewhat reflective. He saw his own blue eyes gazing back at him, almost longingly. He drew his dirt-stained hands up to his hood and carefully pulled it down. His short blonde hair was in disarray, his face, though filthy, was eerily reminiscent of his father’s. For a moment, he almost could see a twinkle of green in his eyes. He reached a hand out and touched the glass. It was almost as if he was finally reunited when he felt a sharp poke into his back. He quickly turned around, hand clasped over the short staff that was hidden in his tattered gray cloak.
“Well? Are you going in or are you gonna admire your pretty face?” An old lady hissed as she retracted the cane she had thrust into his back.
“My apologies, Ma’am…” He said coldly and with a rough crackle in his voice. He hadn’t spoken to a soul since the last settlement. How many weeks ago was that? How many months?
He released his grip on the staff and pulled open the door, losing sight of his father and of himself. Immediately he was hit with the smell of mildew and stale firewhiskey. The old lady stormed past him to the bar, grumbling under her breath the whole way there. The inn was almost empty, save for a few tough looking men at the bar, looking puzzled at the old lady’s fearless invasion of their space. The slender man walked up to the bar and was greeted by the barmaid. She looked like she had seen better days. Everything about her seemed to be faded, and she tried her best to muster a smile, but the pain was clear in her eyes. He pitied her.
“What can I get you today?” She asked him with a touch of sadness in her voice. She was an empty shell of a person. He could relate.
“I need supplies. Food and water. I need 5 loaves of bread, a pound of bacon, and 4 liters of water as soon as possible.” He said, still not used to the sound of his own voice.
“Alright. You aren’t the first traveler to pass through these parts. Must be nice to get out of here…” She said with a timid grin. She disappeared behind the bar to retrieve the supplies he requested. He couldn’t help but think that he should ask her to come with him. Truth be told, he hadn’t had any company ever since he began his search for his father. He just wandered the world, searching in vain for a sign, or clue of his only remaining family member. He was told that his mother’s death was so hard on his father that he couldn’t stand being reminded of her. He got rid of everything that reminded him of her…including his son.
The woman reappeared with a sack full of the rations he had ordered. She placed them gently on the counter and spoke. “That will be 1 Galleon and 3 knuts.” She said as her gaze met his. Her pale gray eyes were filled with hopelessness and despair. He tore his gaze away from hers and reached into his cloak pocket. He pulled out a handful of shiny coins of all colors and currency’s. He kept the change from foreign places as a reminder of his travels and of his search. As the search grew, so did his pocket. He carefully picked out the money and handed it over to her. He was startled when she spoke again.
”What’s your name?” She asked him
“It’s Christopher,” he answered after a moment of thinking. He hadn’t forgotten his name, but it’d been so long since someone asked what it was.
”You have beautiful eyes, Christopher,” she said softly, still gazing at him. She never broke her stare. He hoisted the sack over his shoulder and with his free hand, pulled his hood back over his head.
“I know,” was his reply as he briskly turned away from her and walked out of her life forever.
Back in the streets, he glanced at the sky. Judging by the position of the sun, he had spent more time in the inn than he would have liked. He quickly began walking towards the mountain, ready to begin the next journey. Suddenly, someone caught his eye.
It was a woman; she was wearing a light blue dress, face hidden by her hood. All that was visible were her eyes. They were the brightest blue he had ever seen but were somehow familiar, and comforting. Warmth grew in his chest. Though their eyes never met, he found himself paralyzed in his tracks. She must not have seen him as she drifted with the crowd away from him. Who was this woman? He turned and watched her back as she continued walking away. He wouldn’t let her escape. He needed to know who she was, her name, and her very identity. He began to follow her, stalking her as a predator would stalk its prey.
The heat from the midday sun was disorienting as a slender man emerged from the edge of the cool forest. He quickly surveyed his surroundings with small glances in every direction he could. On the breeze, a putrid mix of scents wafted his way. There were people near. His bright blue eyes peered through his hood down at a small settlement that lay no more than 100 yards from him, resting in the shadow of a great mountain. He struggled to remember the last time he had a meal, wincing at a sharp hunger pain. He knew he wouldn’t make over the mountain without food and water. Though he clearly detested the idea of being around a civilization, he knew that his only chance for survival was to re-stock his food and water supplies. With the slightest of nods and a larger sigh, he decided to make a short stop in the town and so began the short trek towards the settlement.
The slender man struggled against the flow of people going about their daily lives. This type of common routine bored him as he forced his way through the hordes of mindless drones. After a forceful bump into an elderly man, he reached his destination, an old inn. Its windows caked with dust and silt and on its door hung a sign that said “The Goat’s Horn.” He grasped the doorknob but froze as he looked at the door. The glass panes that intricately decorated the ancient door were somewhat reflective. He saw his own blue eyes gazing back at him, almost longingly. He drew his dirt-stained hands up to his hood and carefully pulled it down. His short blonde hair was in disarray, his face, though filthy, was eerily reminiscent of his father’s. For a moment, he almost could see a twinkle of green in his eyes. He reached a hand out and touched the glass. It was almost as if he was finally reunited when he felt a sharp poke into his back. He quickly turned around, hand clasped over the short staff that was hidden in his tattered gray cloak.
“Well? Are you going in or are you gonna admire your pretty face?” An old lady hissed as she retracted the cane she had thrust into his back.
“My apologies, Ma’am…” He said coldly and with a rough crackle in his voice. He hadn’t spoken to a soul since the last settlement. How many weeks ago was that? How many months?
He released his grip on the staff and pulled open the door, losing sight of his father and of himself. Immediately he was hit with the smell of mildew and stale firewhiskey. The old lady stormed past him to the bar, grumbling under her breath the whole way there. The inn was almost empty, save for a few tough looking men at the bar, looking puzzled at the old lady’s fearless invasion of their space. The slender man walked up to the bar and was greeted by the barmaid. She looked like she had seen better days. Everything about her seemed to be faded, and she tried her best to muster a smile, but the pain was clear in her eyes. He pitied her.
“What can I get you today?” She asked him with a touch of sadness in her voice. She was an empty shell of a person. He could relate.
“I need supplies. Food and water. I need 5 loaves of bread, a pound of bacon, and 4 liters of water as soon as possible.” He said, still not used to the sound of his own voice.
“Alright. You aren’t the first traveler to pass through these parts. Must be nice to get out of here…” She said with a timid grin. She disappeared behind the bar to retrieve the supplies he requested. He couldn’t help but think that he should ask her to come with him. Truth be told, he hadn’t had any company ever since he began his search for his father. He just wandered the world, searching in vain for a sign, or clue of his only remaining family member. He was told that his mother’s death was so hard on his father that he couldn’t stand being reminded of her. He got rid of everything that reminded him of her…including his son.
The woman reappeared with a sack full of the rations he had ordered. She placed them gently on the counter and spoke. “That will be 1 Galleon and 3 knuts.” She said as her gaze met his. Her pale gray eyes were filled with hopelessness and despair. He tore his gaze away from hers and reached into his cloak pocket. He pulled out a handful of shiny coins of all colors and currency’s. He kept the change from foreign places as a reminder of his travels and of his search. As the search grew, so did his pocket. He carefully picked out the money and handed it over to her. He was startled when she spoke again.
”What’s your name?” She asked him
“It’s Christopher,” he answered after a moment of thinking. He hadn’t forgotten his name, but it’d been so long since someone asked what it was.
”You have beautiful eyes, Christopher,” she said softly, still gazing at him. She never broke her stare. He hoisted the sack over his shoulder and with his free hand, pulled his hood back over his head.
“I know,” was his reply as he briskly turned away from her and walked out of her life forever.
Back in the streets, he glanced at the sky. Judging by the position of the sun, he had spent more time in the inn than he would have liked. He quickly began walking towards the mountain, ready to begin the next journey. Suddenly, someone caught his eye.
It was a woman; she was wearing a light blue dress, face hidden by her hood. All that was visible were her eyes. They were the brightest blue he had ever seen but were somehow familiar, and comforting. Warmth grew in his chest. Though their eyes never met, he found himself paralyzed in his tracks. She must not have seen him as she drifted with the crowd away from him. Who was this woman? He turned and watched her back as she continued walking away. He wouldn’t let her escape. He needed to know who she was, her name, and her very identity. He began to follow her, stalking her as a predator would stalk its prey.