Post by Forgoil Halifirien on May 26, 2007 8:18:47 GMT -5
Things had gotten rough for the residents of the Triangle Tunnels. Time after time again they had suffered from outsiders messing up their way of life. First there was the Society of the Shadows, appearing from the darker corners of the marketplace, and wrecking havoc onto the lifes of people who normally don't experience such hardships. They sacked, pillaged, burned and killed as they swept through the Tunnel. Hardly after that attack and after the War with Scorpius' society had come to a close, rumors reached the school of a second attack on the Triangle Tunnel. What caused the attack no one could be sure of, considering so many rumors had come from the place, and no actions had been taken find these interlopers.
Perhaps the winds of change would air out that past odor.
He had never really seen the Tunnel before: just heard the rumors that it was a magnet for trouble. Walking down from the north entrance that lead to Drakborough, the young man surveyed his surroundings. Repairs from both attacks could still be seen and some of which had yet to begin. The looks on the peoples' face was impossible to read, but whatever it was it could've been much better. His eyes took in everything, from wrecked stalls to the random person that shuffled by him. This place would be the perfect spot then for what he had in mind. Spotting a small store that was still open, the grey-haired lad weaved through a small crowd to find himself staring at an auction. The previous owner apparently had enough and was trying to recover something out of his lost business by selling what he had left and starting anew somewhere else.
"10 galleons! That price is outrageous; why, back in my day this building would sell for at least 35!" exclaimed the owner when he heard an offer. 'Wow, the guy really is despairate,'thought the Hufflepuff to himself. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone. Pushing his way through the crowd, the 6'1" boy made it to the front and said, "You said 35? If I give you 50 will you sell it to me now?" The shop keeper was momentarily stunned, but immediately became suspicious. "And just why would you need a building like this? Some party pad or something, boy?" asked the owner with a growl to his voice. "No, it's just that I'm graduating this year from the University and I need to a place to stay. I haven't seen any openings at any other spots, so I figured why not here? Besides, once you have my money will it matter what I do with it."
The man grumbled something under his breath but stuck out his greasy hand for the money. Reaching into his left pocket, the grey-haired lad pulled out a pouch and tossed it at the man. It was what little money he had remaining after he left Scotland, but he'd make ends meet some way or another. "Thankye Sir," the owner's tone completely changed when he saw the gold coins,"And what might your name be?" Smiling back at the man he replied, "Halifirien. You can call me Mister Halifirien." The former owner tossed him the key and Forgoil clapped the man on the shoulder before going into his new quarters. It was completely empty and 30x45 ft with two floors. Closing the door behind him, Forgoil paced around the building for a bit before taking a seat on the stairs.
A place of his own: not too shabby for starters. Not only that, but a place for where his little group could base their operations from. New place: 50 galleons and a ton of repair required. Moving all his junk from the school to his new lodgings: probably 5-8 hours (time is money).
Knowing you can make the world a better place: priceless.
Perhaps the winds of change would air out that past odor.
He had never really seen the Tunnel before: just heard the rumors that it was a magnet for trouble. Walking down from the north entrance that lead to Drakborough, the young man surveyed his surroundings. Repairs from both attacks could still be seen and some of which had yet to begin. The looks on the peoples' face was impossible to read, but whatever it was it could've been much better. His eyes took in everything, from wrecked stalls to the random person that shuffled by him. This place would be the perfect spot then for what he had in mind. Spotting a small store that was still open, the grey-haired lad weaved through a small crowd to find himself staring at an auction. The previous owner apparently had enough and was trying to recover something out of his lost business by selling what he had left and starting anew somewhere else.
"10 galleons! That price is outrageous; why, back in my day this building would sell for at least 35!" exclaimed the owner when he heard an offer. 'Wow, the guy really is despairate,'thought the Hufflepuff to himself. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone. Pushing his way through the crowd, the 6'1" boy made it to the front and said, "You said 35? If I give you 50 will you sell it to me now?" The shop keeper was momentarily stunned, but immediately became suspicious. "And just why would you need a building like this? Some party pad or something, boy?" asked the owner with a growl to his voice. "No, it's just that I'm graduating this year from the University and I need to a place to stay. I haven't seen any openings at any other spots, so I figured why not here? Besides, once you have my money will it matter what I do with it."
The man grumbled something under his breath but stuck out his greasy hand for the money. Reaching into his left pocket, the grey-haired lad pulled out a pouch and tossed it at the man. It was what little money he had remaining after he left Scotland, but he'd make ends meet some way or another. "Thankye Sir," the owner's tone completely changed when he saw the gold coins,"And what might your name be?" Smiling back at the man he replied, "Halifirien. You can call me Mister Halifirien." The former owner tossed him the key and Forgoil clapped the man on the shoulder before going into his new quarters. It was completely empty and 30x45 ft with two floors. Closing the door behind him, Forgoil paced around the building for a bit before taking a seat on the stairs.
A place of his own: not too shabby for starters. Not only that, but a place for where his little group could base their operations from. New place: 50 galleons and a ton of repair required. Moving all his junk from the school to his new lodgings: probably 5-8 hours (time is money).
Knowing you can make the world a better place: priceless.