by Gareth on August 19th, 2010, 11:07 am
Timestamp: 510AV, 1st of Summer, mid-afternoon
"Life is a prelude, your just waiting for the show to start, death, that's when it really begins."
The voice calls out, reverbrating around the darkness. Voices call out a name, whispering and shouting. The name is Gareth.
A humanoid figure, wearing a black hooded jacket and red pants, it;s hood pulled over it's eyes. It lies, curled in a featal position at the base of a tree, a sling bag clutched firmly in it's arms. Slowly, the figure awakens, shaking unsteadily as it gets to it's feet, the hood falling away to reveal the face of a young man with crimson eyes, streak like tatoos running down his cheek. He groans, turning around in an attempt to find his bearing. His eyes slowly settle upon the Kabrin road.
Where am I, Who am I. These are the thoughts going through the man's mind as he stumbles toward the road. His mind is a blur, flashing images and voices. His name, it was... it is Gareth. Gareth, born and raised in Ravok by... there, another gap in his memory. Studying, playing, growing. Already as a child, he was a thief and troublemaker, stealing from the shops. Then, at age ten, stop. Continue at age fifteen, learning magic in Zeltiva, and alot of Mizas he spent on that too. The memory of magic comes back in a flash, but then, after the training, blank. A few names, Adelphie, Xionen. Who, and where were they. That was then, now there's the road to get to.
Even as Gareth reaches it, he can feel his strength ebbing away. He is tired, dizzy and confused. Thirst however is his current concern. Without water, he will probably die. Scrabbling at his bag for a moment, he unlatches it, and examines the contents. A money pouch, bulging and heavy. A comb and razor, both made of iron. Some bread, cheese and dried meat, most of it stale. A single knife, blunt and only useful for cutting meat. There, nestled between the bred and the knife, a leather waterskin. Gareth grabs it quickly, the knife cutting his hand as he thrusts his arm into the bag. Wrenching open the cap, he gulps down the contents of the waterskin, cool water gushing down his throat. A moment later, the waterskin is empty. A worry for another time. First things first, to find somewhere safe for the night. A dagger strapped to the waist, an empty waterskin and stale bread. With these, he started along the road.
Timestamp: 510 AV, 2nd summer, evening
"Gods, when will this road end..."
Gareth mumbled under his breath, his white hair falling over his eyes. He had found an uninhabited hut along the road, and had stayed there for the night. Every step seemed to take forever, and his back was drenched with sweat. His legs felt like they were on fire, the result of attempting to use the flux to shorten his journey. The tree's, they looked the same to him, just bronze bronze and more bronze. How long had he been walking. Hours at least. Out of the corner of his vision, he glimpsed a welcome sight, Gates, to a city. His hope rising, he headed towards the gate.