[Completed] Leaving the Nest.... {Flashback}

[Mortemor Thane II]

Spring 1st, 511 AV | Afternoon [ The House of Thane] It was the first day of spring, and instead of going out with other youngsters her age, Mortemor was stuck inside her father’s store; sticking heavy wooden boxes of freshly arrived cargo into the back room. “Junior! We’ve got several more in the front; please take those to the back too! I need to go and speak with Ms. Kendrick.” Mortemor Sr. swiped a broad hand through his salt and pepper hair as he made his way for the door. “Of course… you go and do the easy stuff… and I get to haul 50 tons of crap to the back of the shop! How fun!” Mortemor Jr. griped as she trudged back to the front to pick up another heavy load of consumables. Crowds of people rushed by the storefront, most of the crowd were familiar humanoid faces, with an occasional foreign species passing through. The young red-head looked over at the pile of wooden boxes sitting at the entrance to her father’s store. She sighed with pure defeat. “I’m not even getting paid for this….” She crouched near the easiest box to pick up, then placed her hands near the base of the rough wooden crate and lifted herself back up with the strength of her knees. The muscles in her hamstrings and ankles strained with the effort, causing her to slightly grunt as she rose. She waddled to the back of the shop and balanced the box on it corresponding shelf. “Whooo….” She wiped her brow and panted slightly. “One down… a whole crap load more to go…” She slumped forward, just imagining the next few trips. “Junior!” Mortemor heard her mother calling from upstairs in her glass workshop. Morte quickly turned on heel and headed up stairs to greet her mother. “Yes, mother?” Mortemor asked as she arrived at the top of the stairs. “Are you busy now?” Seryn asked tenderly to her daughter. “Nope, just the usual… doing demeaning slave labor for pops.” Mortemor rolled her eyes as she stepped into her mother’s workshop. Seryn chuckled, noting the hint of her husband’s sarcasm in her daughter. “Have you told your father yet?” “What? About the dead rat in the cellar?” Mortemor asked nonchalantly as she looked over the shelves where her mother stored finished pieces of glass work. “No, you know what I’m talking about!” Seryn laughed and insisted that her daughter just come out with it. Mortemor exhaled and drummed her fingers against the hard wood of one the display shelves. “Not yet… but I don’t think he’ll take it very well…” “You need to tell your father, Junior…” Seryn said solemnly. “… It’s not right if you just up and leave without even telling him one word about where you’re going…” Mortemor stared at her feet for while, thinking over what to do next. The thought of leaving without having her father’s blessing would have shattered her heart; she had to tell him, even if he tried to stop her. “I think I’ll tell him somewhere public, just so he doesn’t make a big scene…” Mortemor murmured, remembering that her father had just gone to the docks to speak with Ms.Kendrick. -------- [The Kelp Bar] Mortemor set out onto the busy streets of Zeltiva in search for her father. She knew that after exchanging a few words with the dock mistress, her father would stop by The Kelp Bar, and buy a few pints of the kelp beer concoction, before heading home to scrutinize the way Morte Jr. had aligned the boxes in the back room. A few of the local Zeltivans greeted her as she made her way to the Kelp Bar. She paused only briefly to return the hello, then moved onto searching specifically for the run-down looking tavern with the ocean bleached wooden planks covering its exterior. Mortemor’s heart began to trembled when the tell-tale sheet metal sign came into view. She hoped her father was there, but at the same time was too nervous to tell him what she planned to do. She entered the kelp bar; the crowd only took fleeting glances in her direction, already identifying her as “old-man Mortemor’s daughter”. The young Thane scanned the area in search of her father, but the poorly lit room did little to help her search. “Mortemor Thane? Are you in here?” The younger Mortemor called out, a bit cautious of the attention she attracted.

[Mortemor Thane II]

Malachite eyes scanned the room when there was no reply. “Old man?!” Mortemor yelled out more gutsy this time, her voice rose above what chatter and other social events were taking place on the rowdy floors of the kelp bar. “—Did you get the shelf stocked, Junior?” Thane Sr. whispered, his breath suddenly wafting onto his daughter’s neck; sending a chill down her spine for more than one reason. “Father--!!” Mortemor Jr. yelped and turned on heel to face her elder. Although Thane Sr. had aged with the passing of time; his once ebony hair had become a mix of silver and peppery gray strands, and his once well sculpted physique had lost much of its muscle that had been acquired during his years of thievery and escape artistry. But his expertly trained skills as a thief somehow never truly faded. With ease he had snuck up on his daughter, and it wasn’t the first time he had startled his child with his lighting quick and silent movements. “I hate it when you do that! It’s so creepy!!” The Junior Thane hissed. “Oh come now, I’ve tried to teach you how to be light on your feet for ages now…” The elder Thane said, as he waved nonchalantly to his daughter. Then moved to take a seat at the bar, casting a beryl gaze onto his Jr. “You’ve got the grace of an ox… and I have no idea where you got that from… “ He turned his attention onto the bar, finishing with “… your mother is a graceful angel.” “That leaves one person….” Mortemor junior said sharply, as she stared dully at her elder; watching him order a mug of the disgusting kelp drink. Senior glanced back at her and scoffed, “…it obviously wasn’t from me, either.” He held up his fist to eye level with Morte Jr. and at first she flinched expecting to be reprimanded; but when no impact came, she slowly opened her eyes and accepted what her father was holding out to her. Morte Sr. laughed softly when she flinched, but he would never truly harm his Mortemor. Examining her deep olive colored eyes, he couldn’t help but be proud that his genes had given him a beautiful daughter. ‘… You do have my eyes…’ Mortemor Sr. thought with admiration. ‘… my good looks, too~!’ his ego added. “My bead!!” Morte Jr. hissed, when her father’s knuckles finally uncurled and dropped her most precious bead, ‘the winged hope’, into her slender palm. Junior’s other hand went immediately to her braid and fingered through the links, trying to locate any unwoven areas, but each plait seemed to be completely untouched, if not more tightly woven than it was before. The young woman gaped at her father, who in turn, had a knowing smile and sipped at his mug. “You should be thankful; I think I make better braids then your mother does, anyhow…” Mortemor Sr. uttered smugly, stroking an identical braid woven into the long hair of his gotee. A thin amused smile crept across her father’s lips as he took a deep gulp of the green sludge in his mug. Mortemor Jr. frowned at the sight. She hated the smell, and looks of kelp beer enough to never go near the stuff, but her father drank it like water. ‘—it must be the alcohol…’ she thought. ‘or the lack of taste buds…’ her eyes narrowed further. “Now why isn’t my merchandise getting’ stocked?” Thane Sr. asked, his tone changing slightly. His stare stayed locked onto his mug, awaiting Morte Jr’s excuse for slacking off. ‘…because I’m not getting paid--!’ was the first thought that leapt to the forefront of her brain. But the younger Thane knew to bite her lip. “I –I want to talk to you about something…” Jr. chewed at her lip, watching her father intently. Thane Sr. already was suspicious of what his Jr. had to say. He gestured her over and pulled up one of the more trustworthy (… if you could even call it that) stools in the room. She gently let herself down onto the bar stool, becoming a little nervous when it wobbled and slightly creaked. They huddle closer together over the bar top to make the conversation feel a little more private. The older male gave her a side long look, and then finally asked in a flat tone. “What did you do?”

[Mortemor Thane II]

"What do you mean, what did you do?" Mortemor jr. wrinkled her nose at the implied accusation. "Honestly you think I'm that much of a mischief maker?" she went on, sounding a bit disappointed her father didn't trust her. 'You take after me....' Mortemor Sr. rolled his eyes as he thought to himself. '... That's reason enough to be suspicious.' "So what do you want to talk about, than? Did some young stud knock you up?" Sr.'s heart raced and although he seemed calm and reserved on the outside, his temper was flaring at the idea of some unworthy rodent laying hands on his daughter. He had already begun thinking of different ways to disembowel Jr.'s new beau without her finding out about it. "NO!" Jr. barked losing her cool for an instant and nearly falling over on her precariously balanced stool. "--I certainly wouldn't tell you something like that here of all places!!" The young woman hissed through thin lips and tossed a disgusted glance about the room. "Than save me the pain of guessin' and spit it out!" Sr. retorted, swallowing the rest of his kelp beer, and ordering another drink to prepare for what Mortemor Jr. had to break to him. 'I would if you let me speak--!!' Morte Jr barked in her head. "I want to go to Wind Reach!!" She finally announced, nearly shouting it out so her father wouldn't mishear her. "Sssppu--!!" Mortemor Sr. nearly spit out a mouth full of Kelp beer when he heard her request. At first Sr. said nothing, and he refused to look at his child. Becoming worried, Morte Jr. tried to coax a reaction from him. "Dad? what do you think?" She asked timidly, wondering if she'd regret asking. "No..." He finally uttered. "Absolutely not!" The mug in his hand slammed against the counter and he gave her a steeled gaze that he only gave her when she was being disciplined as a young girl. "Listen, I provide everything you need, and there's a wonderful university, right here, in Zeltiva... What more could you want?!" He asked; dumfounded at the fact that his daughter was not satisfied. "Why do you need to leave?" Mortemor frowned sadly; her large and hopeful eyes fell to her feet. She felt badly for making her parent feel as though she did not want to be with them. Somewhere in her heart she knew her mother would understand. But her father had had so many high hopes and expectations for her. It was hard to imagine him letting go of those aspirations. “It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever…” She tried to lighten the situation. “I’ll come back…” “Then why leave in the first place! Besides I need you Mortemor… Who’s going to watch the shop when I’m gone? Who’s going to help me stock, and with your mother’s glasswork?” Mortemor Sr. asked in an annoyed tone, but Jr. Saw none of these as concrete reasons to keep her caged in Zeltiva. “You can hire someone to attend to the shop… and I don’t want to do glass working!” Mortemor jr. nearly shouted, but kept her voice leveled. Desperation cracked her tone, as her heart lit up with passion. She wasn’t going to let him discourage her. She had set her mind on this long ago. “I want to be an Endal…”

[Mortemor Thane II]

Mortemor Sr. cringed at hearing those words. This hadn’t been the first time she had spoken them. She had talk to him about it before, but each time she brought it up he would steer her attention towards the university, and all of the benefits it offered. But it was obvious that the girl was stubborn or… The old man met eyes with his daughter; he could see the fervor the idea of this journey had ignited within her soul. The two stared at each other, iron melding over their gazes; neither was fully willing to back down. “Alright…” The elder said to his junior. “… If you’ve got enough balls to travel all the way across the blasted continent on your own, to become some infernal bird rider…” Mortemor Jr.’s mouth flew open to protest the fact that her father thought Endals were stupid, but immediately slammed shut when he slid forward a tall mug filled with Kelp beer. Crusty bits of gunk and leaves clung to the sides, and the smell of rotten fish assaulted Jr.’s nose. “…Then you can down this entire mug, in one go…” Mortemor Sr. Winked at his daughter and held up a single finger in a rather calm gesture. Jr.’s eyes went wide, in bafflement she looked down at the unidentifiable concoction and back to her father, who was smiling wider than ever. “You’re joking…” she stated flatly. “Not.One.Bit.” The expression of smugness that stained her father’s face turned her stomach. “…Drink it.” He demanded. “I will not!” She refused. “Then you’re not ready to go anywhere!! If you can’t handle drinking one disgusting mug of slop! Then you are nowhere ready to face what is waiting for you out there! Think about the dangers on the road! And what if you go somewhere where the food is horrible? You’ll starve to death, because you’re stubborn!” Mortemor Sr. had made his point, and thought that the argument had been squashed. But just as he turned to take the mug, his daughter’s hand shot out and scooped it up. With a completely unhappy and repulsed look on her face, she managed to get her lips onto the cup; and then the real challenge began. The green goop practically rolled out of the mug, it seemed so thick. When it made contact with her taste buds, her tongue curled up and retreated. The overpowering taste of fish ran down her throat and hit her stomach like poison, and flooded her nose making it impossible to use the ‘just don’t smell it’ technique. ‘ugh…!’ Mortemor Jr. Mentally gagged. Suddenly she felt something sharp scrape her throat a little before finally going the rest of the way down. ‘Was THAT a fish bone?!’ She mentally panicked, the feeling of nausea becoming more powerful each moment she took to stop and gulp. She had to pound the counter top with her fist in order to keep herself going. Finally, when she could see the bottom of the mug, she tossed the mug back onto the table and grinned widely at her father. A coating of green stained her teeth and a small sludge mustache remained on her upper lip, causing the older man to chuckle bit at the sight. “Good job… you look like you really enjoyed it.” He said in a nonchalant disposition. “…Here have another… On me…” Mortemor Sr. casted a mischievous glare onto his daughter, as he casually passed another drink the bartender had just served, over to her. Morte Jr.’s grin died. Stunned, she glanced at her father and then to the mug in front of her. ‘He’s trying to see how far he can push me before I break… He’s not going to win this time…’ She thought determined to prove her father wrong. Her moss colored eyes narrowed at him, and then she ripped the mug off the counter and drank it down faster than the first. The alcohol was already rushing to her head, and the sudden rush nearly tipped her off her stool top. By the time she had finished with this mug, her father had set yet another mug filled with kelp beer onto the table, and smiled at her with the devil in his eyes. ‘You sadistic fiend-!!’ Jr. cried in her head.

[Mortemor Thane II]

-- Four crusty mugs of Kelp beer, and one sick Mortemor, later… Sr. watched his daughter drink every mug he set in front her with a large almost wicked smile. Knowing full well that the alcohol would drain her sense and hopefully make the discussion they had just had a memory. But despite the amount of chemicals flooding Jr.’s veins, she never lost sight of what she was doing this for. ‘I’ll show him--!! I’ll drink him under the table if I have too!! He isn’t going to deny me this just because he doesn’t believe in me!! I’ll Show him--!’ The redheaded woman thought fervently as she finished the last beer. A light shade of green shined in Morte Jr’s complexion. She was becoming sicker by the moment as the alcohol and unidentified fish parts settled at the bottom of her stomach. “So feel ready for an adventure across the continent now…?” Morte Sr. asked, poking fun at his offspring’s bitter condition. “I feel… like I’m about to vomit rusty nails… “ Jr clutched her stomach ruefully, and belched attempting to relieve the pressure building in her gut. “OOooh--! I think I have a whole fish skeleton in there…” Morte Jr. groaned with discomfort; wincing, when she looked down at her slightly swelling belly. “I think you’ve been punished enough…” Morte Sr. chuckled, his wide cat like grin died off to a more merciful smirk. There was a long silence between the two, before anyone decided to talk. Jr. was silent in most part due to the fact that she feared the possibility of the Kelp beer coming right back up if she opened her mouth. “You know this doesn’t mean I’m okay with you leavin’…” Sr.’s mood had shifted drastically; to Jr.’s relief, a much more serious one. His tone had become softer, and more thoughtful, but his beryl eyes never came to meet with his daughter’s. He stared wistfully off into the wall in front of him as he spoke very loving words. “… You and your mother are my soul, Mortemor. Asking me to let you leave somewhere dangerous on your own… Do you know what you’re askin’ of me?” The older man finally looked over with a gentle appearance in his eyes. “Do you actually believe you can pull this off alone?” Jr. felt the bile already rising in her throat, but the will to speak what she felt, held it down. “I know I can!” She replied quickly, but slowed down as the pain in her stomach spiked. “Hell, I’d hug and kiss you… if I didn’t feel like I was going to vomit on you.” She took a deep breath. “—But I’m not always going to be a little girl. I have to grow up sometime, and you said you... should always go after your dreams…” Jr.’s eyes fell to the sawdust covered floor. “… This is my dream.” Although, he still mentally protested his daughter’s voyage, he now understood how she really felt. Sympathy graced his heart. “I’ll think about it…” was all the older man replied with, placing a broad affectionate hand onto his daughter’s head. It didn’t seem like much, but it was all Morte Jr. could ask of him. “I love you, too da—BLAaaahH!!” The moment would have been touching if Jr. had been able to keep the seven or so mugs of kelp beer down. But before she could confess her affection for her father, the halfling’s stomach decided to evacuate in that exact moment, right onto her father’s new boots. “AH! I just bought these damned things!!” Mortemor Sr. howled scornfully. Jr. wiped her lips feeling a great deal better, then glanced at her father. "How do you drink that stuff?" Sr. regained his calm for an instant, to reply with. "It's the alcohol...." "Oh..." Jr. rolled her eyes. "-- the lack of taste buds also helps..." Sr. grunted rising from his chair, and herding jr. out of the bar. "... now lets go get your mother to clean these off." Fin. Auhtoress's notes*Sigh* I just love touching endings ^.^

[Archelon]

oocWith permission from Goss to help clear old threads from Liminal's office Thread Award "I just flew in from Alberquerque, and boy are my arms tired!" And the Results!!!!: Mortimor II : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Bodybuilding 1 Rhetoric 3 Intimidation 2 Reverse intimidation counts for refusing to be cowed by a protective parent! Lores: Kelp bear is awful! Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Wasn't much to give here, but I did what I could Any ??'s comments and concerns please feel free to send me a nice pm .