Solo [Grandfathered Thread] The Death of Alvin Wilmot

[Alric Wilmot]

Summer 52nd: 512 AV Alric strolled about in a new set of armored robes, bought in Zeltiva to help him in his new pursuit of combat excellence. He wasn't really all that excellent yet, but soon enough he imagined he'd know how to use the sword strapped to his belt. He had left Bones and Ainsley back in the thick of Zeltiva, they had wanted to explore the city, and Alric wasn't the kind of person to deny anyone the chance to learn something new. In fact his own goals were rather similar, knowledge for knowledge's sake was always a top priority. But he had a different goal this day. He had received a letter near a season ago from Miro, who had said that he had found his father, or rather a man named Alvin Wilmot, on his travels. He had found that Miro had unfortunately left the city nearly a week before Alric himself arrived. Now he was following breadcrumbs. The news of a barkeeper here, the tall tale of an innkeeper there, and he was almost done finding out what happened and what Miro discovered. His search led him to the docks of Zeliva, to a sailor named Riff. From what he had gathered, Riff was young, a boy really. But he had already lost an eye, and was well-respected by his crew. Alric had thought a boy with a missing eye would be easy to find, but it had been harder than he had assumed. Many of the boys at the dock were playing "Sailors and Pirates" and the common way to make a pirate was an eye-patch. Alric thought it amusing that when he fought off pirates none of them had had a single eye-patch between them. As he walked along, wading through the hustle and bustle of the docks, he came to a ship named The Emerald Maid. That was supposedly the ship the boy was on. With a quick appraisal, he found a boy a few yards away. Unlike the others he was alone and eating a lunch. It seemed to be some sort of bread with fish. He turned his head when a large man bellowed a name. He did indeed have an eye-patch. Alric, glad his search was over, jaunted up to the boy. the boy ignored him. Alric coughed a bit into his hand to get the boy's attention. He looked up, though he seemed rather bored. He looked Alric up and down, appraising him. Finally he turned away and took another bite of fish. "Beat it, I don't want no trouble with a wizard. You's guys is all wacko, and I'm not gonna deal wit' ya." Alric rose a brow. He knew magic-users didn't have the most stellar reputation, and it was unfortunately deserved. But Alric did not want this too take too long. He didn't have time to waste. "My young friend, I really must insist on your help. A friend of mine told me to find the man named Riff. By chance are you that man?" The boy stopped mid bite and snapped his head toward Alric, squinting his eyes in concentration. he took another bite and responded, chunks of bread and fish falling out of his mouth. "Maybe I am. What's it to ya?" Alric rolled his eyes and flipped the boy a Silver-rimmed Miza. The boys eye went wide as a saucer before he bit the coin to make sure it wasn't wood. Satisfied he pocketed the coin. "Yeah, I'm Riff. What do ya want ta know?" "Do you remember a man named Miro? I believe he had an important message for me." The boy nodded, his eye screwed up in concentration. "Yeah. I remember. Guy was major koo koo. Told me to tell a guy with a purple mask that the body was at the University. Wizards, I tell ya. Workin' wit' bodies. Ya'll nuts." he opened his eyes then, and gave a smile to Alric. "But cha money's still good! See ya never. That was all he said. So beat it." Alric thanked the lad and went back the way he came. His heart sank heavily at the boys words. Body? Why would Miro tell the boy that he had a body? In the letter he hadn't said that the man he found was dead. If the man he had encountered truly was Alric's father, if he was the body in question... Alric shook his head. No, that wasn't possible. His father had survived Alvadas for near fifty years, a little business trip wouldn't be his undoing. Alric made his way through the city to the famed University of Zeltiva. In all honesty, Alric wouldn't have minded enrolling in a class or two. He thought he heard that they even had a basket-weaving class. That had piqued his interest. Unfortunately he did not have the luxury of time. He needed to have this matter settled and get back to Alvadas. He was still a Speaker and needed to return as quickly as possible. He had already met and visited with Wrenmae, who in all honesty wasn't in the best frame of mind. Though perhaps Alric wasn't the sort to comment on matters of the mind. Regardless he made his way to the University with little incident. He made his way to the front desk and asked for information on where the medical wing was. If Zeltiva held bodies, that was where they would keep them. Oh Ionu, he hoped this body wasn't his father's. But he had to find out regardless of his fears. Alric was informed by a kindly old man that the Infirmary could be accessed by going outside the building and heading to an entrance a few blocks away. With a nod, Alric left and went on his way. He made his way through the streets of Zeltiva with barely a thought besides worry. He had been overjoyed by finding Wrenmae. He had hoped to have a similar reunion. But as he entered the Infirmary he got a dreadful feeling. It was just a gut thing, with nothing to warrant it but the boy's words. " ...the body was at the University..." He shivered. And fidgeted with his mask. It was always trying to poke his face. He had scolded it this morning, but it didn't seem to take heed. He'd have to have a talk with it later. He stepped in with a meek stride, nothing like the confident steps he had when looking for information. For some reason he had hoped that his journey would lead him to a quaint little cottage with his father in an old chair, just waiting to tell him all about his adventure. But, somewhere deep inside himself, he knew it wouldn't. He came to a an old woman, checking on a man with great spots on his face. He was pale and shivering, though besides that he didn't move from his bed. "Now, now Mr. Johnson. If you want to get back on the sea, you need to eat your fruits. They fight sickness you know, scurvy especially." The man just let out another groan, obviously not in the mood to talk back. When she was done tending to the man, she greeted Alric with a smile. Alric had never seen a sadder smile. The woman obviously didn't have much hope for the man. "Hello, what may I do for you?" she said, a bit out of breath. Alric bowed out of courtesy and asked her if she had been given anything by a man named Miro. The woman's eyes drooped a bit at the name, but she only nodded in response. With the crook of her finger, she beckoned Alric to follow. As Alric did so, he found himself staring at other patients in the Infirmary. It was a grim sight. Many seemed like normal sicknesses. Though others looked magical in nature. He saw one boy had grown horns, and couldn't get them to go away. Though that was one of the more benign cases. He passed by a large curtain, and followed the woman through a rather thick door. On the other side, there were blocks of ice laying about, with beds laid in rows between them. A few had tarps, with body-shaped lumps underneath them. He was asked her why the ice was present and got an interesting answer. "We have reimancers come and create ice in this room to keep the bodies preserved for study. Many of our students work here to identify diseases or discover new ones. We keep people here for a rather long time, and the cold keeps flesh from rotting." She gave a heavy sigh,"I'm sorry about this. The man, Miro you called him, brought him in too late. Are you, by chance, Alric? He had some words he wanted us to tell you." Alric stopped walking, his heart beating against his chest as if it wanted to escape. No, no, this couldn't be. His father was alive and well, waiting for him somewhere. "I wrote them down here." she picked up a parchment from the bedside of another lumped form. "Can you read?" she asked. Alric's head felt light. He slowly nodded his head, and took the the Parchment from her. He removed his mask. He wanted to face this on his own, and his mask hadn't known him long enough to see what he might be seeing. He brought the parchment to eye level. And began to read. My dear Alric, I don't have much time. I feel weaker every day, and the leechings don't seem to be working. The rot had already set in, they said. The bite of those monsters is a filthy concoction of disease. I regret ever giving them the time of day. I look back on my life, and think of all the things I never got to do. The places I haven't seen, and the squalor I raised you in. I am so sorry. You were the best thing in my life. I wish I could have given you more. But, I wanted you to know that I am so grateful that you were given to me. I never thought how much fun it would be, when I picked you up off that doorstep. I'm dying, that much is clear. But I want you to know that while I have many regrets, you make up for them. I love you, son. -Love, Alvin Wilmot Tears began to well in Alric's eyes. He glanced to the lump that was next to the note, and he knew what lay under it. Though, for the first time in his life, he wished he was ignorant. He reached over to pull the cover off, but was stopped by the woman. She grabbed his wrist and looked him in the eye. "That may not be wise." Alric shook her wrist off. "Regardless, I have to do it. I need to see him. Just... just one last time." She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes, before slowly nodding her head. Alric thanked her, and removed the cover slowly. Alvin Wilmot's head was revealed first, revealing a mop of grey hair, still thick despite his age. He almost looked at rest...until his torso was revealed. Alric's breath caught, and it felt like he was choking. He wiped away few more tears. His torso had several chunks taken out of it, as if they had been bitten off. From one of them, Alvin's flesh had turned black. The other two almost seemed fresh, wet and glistening. "I'm sorry. We removed the bandages when he died. We don't get a lot of Zith attack victims here, and we wanted to learn more. Find out how we might better help the next victim." Alric nodded. He realized he was trembling. He didn't know what to do. His father, was dead. Killed by some terrible monster. A monster he had indirectly dealt with before. He had once been a hypnotic medicine man. Altering peoples minds to make them more suitable. He had encountered a runaway slave, a lifetime ago it seemed. She had confessed while under a trance that a Zith had eaten her parents in front of her. He had barely given the horror of that a thought. Now, it seemed far more terrifying, and infinitely more frightening. The Zith were considered by some to be a race equal to humanity. Alric had never cared to know if they were equals or not. Though now, it was all too obvious that that wasn't the case. They were beasts, a blight upon the land, spreading misery wherever they went. Suddenly, Alric was filled with another emotion other than grief. He felt, rage. he felt hatred. All at once he realized that mastering your emotions was not akin to suppressing them. It was harnessing them, focusing them into a point and unleashing them upon your goal. He'd kill every Zith he could. They had caused enough suffering. They looked like men, talked like men. But they weren't men. It was all an illusion. And Ionu had revealed to him their true nature. But almost as soon as the rage came, it died. He looked upon the broken body of the man who raised him but couldn't bare it. He tapped the power in his Mark, and made him appear the man he was. Strong, a little pudgy, streaks of brown in his hair. He covered the illusion over the man like a blanket. The woman looked in awe, but as she saw Alric's face, she realized he had not revived his father. It was only an illusion, a facade. The real Alvin Wilmot was dead.

[Eldritch]

Alric :

Skills
Investigation +2
Observation +1

Lores
-Following up on Miro's tip
-Hating the Zith for the death of your father

Notes :

Nothing to note.

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