18th of Fall, 514
I'm done with this veritable prison...
Venser Rush cast his gaze about his room in Tarsin's Boarding House, still destroyed from his outburst ten days prior. He could not forget the time he had spent here. Ages imprisoned here by the fact that his legs did not function. Nearly a season wasted away in the bowels of a mediocre home as Venser Rush wasted away. His physical therapy had helped with his muscle tone, but he had lost quite a bit of weight. However, in the past ten days he had begun to tone his body once again, eating as much as he could in order to return to the body he had possessed before Miro had stolen it away from him. Nightmarish was what the situation was, a hell born in the wooden confines of an inn's room.
But, it was to be discarded now. Venser had not yet sought out his accommodations, but he had already stowed all of his belongings, carefully stowing his legacies in the bag that contained his toolkit, keeping his remaining possessions in his other rucksack. All that he had in the world, which was in truth not very much, was packed away. Prepared to leave, Venser Rush quickly made his way out of Tarsin's Boarding House. Venser Rush quickly paced along the framework of the docks before crossing forward and to a bridge that he had made a habit of dwelling upon.
Despite the water that flowed beneath the bridge, the place was one that provided Venser with a measure of relief. Not quite peace, for peace was lost to Venser, but space from the worries of his heart, though in the midst of his relief it lingered. It built within his thoughts, where Karn was able to sense them and laugh into Venser's mind.
Pitiful. What a disturbing child you are, Venser. You believe that your chains have been lifted, yet your mind keeps them in place. You wish to advance, yet your past continues to burden you. Pathetic.
The Rush twin pursed his lips, ignoring his Familiar until the Kirt continued to attack him in his mind,
Silence, Kirt. You speak of lingering in the past yet I hear the very same in your mind, as well. Here in Mizahar, you are weak. Pathetic in body as you claim for me to be in mind. You wish to grow once again, yet you rely on ME for such growth. You are nothing more or less than a parasite made of ore and rock, clinging to your past ferociousness.
The Kirt would, if it could, narrow its eyes. Rather, it constricted Venser's wrist. The Kirt had taken a sealed form upon Venser's wrist as a shining silver bracelet, riddled with impurities of obsidian and stone. Beautiful to behold and rather discrete as it was, the pressure began to build and Venser did his utmost to take the pain. When he showed no signs of it, Karn relented and fell silent, allowing Venser, for now, the peace of mind to look upon the waters of Lake Ravok.
However, it was not to last. Venser Rush rose from his hunched position over the railing of the bridge. Casting his gaze back towards the docks, Venser considered his direction for a moment before deciding that he was best served going to a tavern to let off some steam. The Silver Sliver was the closest, and thus he made his way towards it, intent on leaving the world behind in a flurry of hazy vision and drunken pleasures.
Count: 592