[Herald's Arms] Tide and Time (Roderick)

[Aoren]

46th Day of Autumn, 513AV
21st Bell

Aoren sighed.

It was a heavy sigh. The sigh of a man who was terribly exhausted. The sigh of a man who wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep the days away without interruption. That was exactly how he felt right then and there. There would be no such thing however. Aoren had too much work to do and not enough time to do it. It was a frustrating state to be in. There was one thing that helped to distract his mood though.

Today was Aoren’s birthday. Or at least the day he decided was his birthday. He didn’t know the actual day he was born so it was some time ago that he settled on making the celebration of the anniversary of his birth to be in his preferred Season, Fall. On the forty-sixth day to be exact. It was a day that held a great deal of significance for him but for reasons that he kept mostly to himself. It was the one day of the entire year where he allowed himself a little freedom in anything and everything he normally wouldn’t do.
So there he sat. In the Herald’s Arms. Contemplating what he always did that time of year.

Should I or should I not bed with a harlot tonight?

Of course Aoren already knew the answer. He would order the same meal he always did. He would drink himself to the point where his moral reservations no longer posed a problem and then he would turn to the prettiest or the most handsome man or woman that caught his fancy at the time. It was the same every year for the past three years. He didn’t drink to celebrate. He didn’t bed for comfort. He did those things to forget and at the moment he was starting to remember things he decidedly didn’t want to think about. So he did what he always did on that day: he would get drunk and he would have as much of a good time as he was able.

The heavy scent of cheap perfume, assorted incense and spiced foods wafted in the air. He seated himself at the bar turned to the barkeep and ordered his usual.

“Roasted beef, potatoes, carrots, and broccoli if you please. I’ll have a dark ale to drink and when I’m done with my dinner I’ll have a hearty slice of apple pie to accompany it. Oh and uhh…” He reached into his pocket digging for the appropriate coin. “…keep the drinks coming.” Aoren ran a hand through his hair, which had gotten considerably longer than he normally let it get. The sandy blond hair coming just below his ears. He sighed heavily once again. His ale was brought promptly. Aoren picked it up, turned in his seat then looked at one of the “entertainers” perform on stage. He glanced to the ceiling and raised his mug muttering to himself.

“Happy birthday, Aoren.” With that he took a large gulp resolved to let the chips land where they would that night.

[Roderick]

A glorified whorehouse - that's all this place is. The Herald's Arms took the phrase 'a wolf in sheep's clothing' to an entirely different level. The bitter musk of 'perfume' assaulted his nostrils as he stepped inside the place, his eyes adjusted to the lighting of the interior. A few heads turned to give a passing glance at the new arrival, but within tics they had all gone back to their business - most didn't give any heed to him - something Roderick didn't mind, as he walked further into the place, boots making a small amount of noise as they came into contact with the floor. Away to one side someone was performing for the Herald's guests; he didn't give them too much of his time - he just wanted to get something to eat and then leave. The Stallion would have been more to his liking, but this place had been closer and his growling belly had lured him here. It was as he neared the bar that he caught sight of a familiar face - remembering it was easy, given he'd seen it the day before. Hearing the small dialogue the man made with the barkeep, the hunter slowed to a stop by the bar, eyeing Aoren briefly, noting he didn't look too pleased right now. Things like that had never stopped him before, though. Plopping himself down beside the Drykas without asking permission, he turned and gave a friendly nod, "Fancy meeting you here, Aoren." Roderick waved the barkeep over and continued, "Everythin' fine? You look a little grumpy." The man arrived a few tics after and waited as the Zeltivan told him what he wanted, "Venison, taters and carrots. Pie, same as him, with some milk." When he'd left Roderick turned towards Aoren again. OOCA bit short, but I'm just feeling a little off right now. I'll work harder on the next post

[Aoren]

"Fancy meeting you here, Aoren."

Aoren paused mid gulp. He looked over the edge of his mug to see the hunter he'd encountered not but a day prior. Lowering his mug he offered the man a slight nod of the head. He lowered his eyes and cleared his throat a little embarrassed to have been caught in the Herald's Arms by someone he knew. Albeit he only knew the man in passing it was still a little stressful. There were only a few reasons people came to this place. Aoren felt as if his own were written all over his face.

"Likewise, Roderick, right?" He nodded confident that was the man's name.

"Everythin' fine? You look a little grumpy."

"Oh. I'm uh..." What was he doing? He was doing the same thing he did every year. He was making terrible choices to make an otherwise dismal evening somewhat bearable. That was what he was doing. He gave a halfhearted chuckle raising his mug down a little more of the ale. It wasn't the best variety in the city but it helped to moisten his suddenly parched throat.

"Grumpy wasn't what I was going for. I'm celebrating. If you can believe it." He shrugged his shoulders setting his mug down wrapping both hands around it. Aoren leaned forward staring into the dark brown liquid as if it held an unspeakable answer to some universal truth. That was ridiculous but it wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

"Today is the anniversary of my birth. Twenty-four years in Syliras." He sat up straight raising his mug to his erstwhile companion. "Here's to life." He downed the rest of his ale in a few long gulps.

"What about you? What brings you to this fine establishment?" That was certainly a stretch and Aoren knew it. The Herald's Arms was anything but a fine establishment. A quick release to an otherwise stressful life? Maybe. Upstanding and morally acceptable? That was a matter of debate around the more civilized circles of the city. It was a good thing then that Aoren did not travel in those circles. He didn't travel amongst the ruffians either. He'd been flying solo for several years at this point. It was simply how he was and he had come to accept this.

[Roderick]

Roderick's arrival made the Drykas stop halfway through swallowing his drink. Peering over the rim of his cup Aoren looked the hunter over, lowering the mug slowly and offering the man a nod. His eyes fell to the floor and he cleared his throat awkwardly as he seemed to tie himself in knots thinking of some way he could explain his presence in the Herald. "Likewise, Roderick, right?" The archer gave a slight smile and nod in return, while he adjusted himself on his chosen seat. Faltering somewhat as he went to answer his companion's next question, the Drykas took several tics to think over something, swallowing down a mouthful of whatever bitter thing he had in his cup, before he finally gave his answer. A stab of surprise went through Roderick as the Drykas revealed that he was actually celebrating. "If this is you when you're celebrating I don't want t' see you when you're pissed off." The wry smile that came to his lips would hopefully bring one to the other man's, though only Aoren had control over that. The Zeltivan listened intently as he learned about what exactly his latest acquaintance was supposedly celebrating; his birth - today would be his twenty fourth year of life. Having slouched over his mug the Drykas straightened and raised his mug to his new companion, "Here's to life." The cup was empty within seconds, its contents swiftly vanishing down Aoren's throat as he sought to drown whatever sorrows he had in the Herald's booze. At that point Roderick's own drink arrived and he took a sip from it, surprised to find that it wasn't milk, but a mug of pale ale. "I didn't order this." He told the bartender, who simply pointed down the counter. Looking over in that direction he saw a well-groomed man sitting there; the man in question gave the younger man the strangest look and winked at him with a little smile. Raising an eyebrow and looking away quickly, the archer decided he'd best exit the place before that man made a move on him. While the urge to become involved in Aoren's wallowing was very tempting, Roderick decided it was for the best if he stayed out of it; he imagined the Drykas had very legitimate reasons for being so sour, though he couldn't fully push the urge to interfere from his mind. Upon being questioned about the reason for his own presence within the Herald - he most certainly wasn't going to think of it as a 'fine establishment' - he smirked and shrugged, "Well I'm not here looking for 'company'. I was hungry and this place happens to serve food. Though you can't deny the view's nice..." with that he glanced over at a passing waitress, whose hips swayed as she walked, then returned his attention to Aoren. The urge to ask him about his sour manner returned, and he decided that he might as well ask; he'd back off if the reasons behind it happened to be a sore spot for the Drykas. "You're supposed to be celebrating your birth, today, but instead you've come here to drink and sulk about something. Why? This should be the one day where you're meant to be happy with everything." Too brusque, maybe, but he'd said it now and there wasn't any way for him to take it back. His plate of food appeared before him, and he sliced off a piece of venison and speared it on the end of his knife, "Whatever happened before today is done; you can't change it. So sit back, eat your dinner and have a good time." He held his knife near his mouth, "And don't do what you're thinking about." It was obvious to him why the Drykas was here; he seemed a temperate, disciplined man, so today would be one of the few times in which he stuffed his face with food and wine and relieved any built up tension by making love to whores. Interfering in this was a poor idea, but he felt some level of pity for Aoren, and it annoyed him so much he felt he had to do something to help - if only to suppress the feeling.

[Aoren]

“Whatever happened before today is done; you can't change it. So sit back, eat your dinner and have a good time."

Wasn’t that the truth? Everything inside of Aoren told him that the words coming out of Roderick’s mouth were nothing but pure truth. There was nothing Aoren could do to change what had happened so close to this day. The events had transpired years ago and though they weighed heavy on his heart he wouldn’t get anywhere by wallowing in his own despair. In all of his years the one thing that he had always learned through the Gift the Goddess of Divination had bestowed upon him was that there was no changing the past. To run from it, to turn your back on it, to deny it was to be a fool.
And that was exactly why Aoren was so miserable this time of year.

Because he’d been a fool trying to forget what had become a part of him. He had been trying to deny the reality of what had happened and that had only lead him down more and more foolish paths.

"And don't do what you're thinking about."

Aoren looked up at Roderick. The man barely knew him but already he was able to see through Aoren’s antics. It made the Drykas man laugh. He chuckled shaking his head looking down into his empty mug as if there were some answers there that had eluded him for so long. He set the mug down just as his food arrived then slid it toward the barkeep.

“Water. Please.” The barkeeper gave him a curious look quirking his head to the side but merely shrugged his shoulders obliging the request. The alcohol was replaced with water but Aoren had moved on to his meal. He cut into the beef taking his first bite. The rich flavor burst into his mouth and made him sigh in appreciation. He immediately cut into the beef again deeply enjoying his meal. Normally he’d already downed three mugs of ale by this point but today was different. It was different because someone different had stepped in to keep him from doing something stupid. He set his eating utensils down for a moment picking up his mug of water taking a swig from it. He smirked at Roderick.

“It was that obvious, huh?” He laughed again returning to his meal. “You’re right though. There’s really nothing I can do to change what happened. It was a long time ago. Not so long ago that it is easy to forget but long enough that it’s time I started putting it behind me.” He gave the hunter a mock salute with his form. Though his mood wasn’t exactly what one would call improved it was certainly a step up from what it had been. The memories from the seasons past still weighed on Aoren but he was determined do things differently this year. His first step? Don’t drown out his frustrations in alcohol and spend time with someone who meant absolutely nothing to him.

“Oh and trust me, I’m a very hard man to get seriously angry. Never been much of an angry person. My problem is I spend too much time in here.” He tapped his skull then gestured to the room in a vague fashion. “And not enough time living out here.” He continued to eat his food. It tasted a little different than it normally did but that was likely because of the noted lack of alcohol. He nodded to the mug of ale that the hunter had received as a gift.

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer.” He chuckled. Aoren was not a strange to the affections of both men and women. That being said Roderick had nothing to worry about from the Drykas man. He was extremely reserved with his affections and never moved first. That being said it had lead him to spending a great deal of time alone. One might surmise that because of Aoren’s reservations it was a reason he sought the company of a harlot on the chosen day of his birth. Outside of company that was paid for he had no one special to speak of. Even then he usually kept things as distant and purely carnal as he could. He couldn’t see himself getting attached to a prostitute. It wasn’t because he didn’t respect them. He’d met a very interesting harlot not so long ago. They were just not the type of people he could see himself committing to in the long run.

Aoren continued to down his food with a bit more gusto than before. He was enjoying it thoroughly but the company wasn’t so bad either. He followed Roderick’s eyes and smiled in appreciation as well.

“Well, the view is definitely a reason I came here. That and the apple pie. Surprisingly enough I’d say the Herald’s Arms makes the best apple pie in the city.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Part of me thinks they put something extra into the apples before they bake them but I think it’s better not to ask questions in that regard.” He smirked over a mouthful of potatoes.

“So, are you from Syliras?” Aoren was finished talking about his troubles. They were still there. They were definitely still there. They were absolutely, one hundred percent still there. He just didn’t want to talk about them anymore. So he followed his natural instinct and turned the conversation away from himself.

“Your accent is a little off. It’s not typical of someone who is from Syliras. I’ve heard it before but I can’t quite remember where to place it.”

[Roderick]

It seemed Roderick's words had some amount of effect on Aoren - a surprising amount, it seemed, from the way the Drykas requested water in place of ale. Sinking his teeth into the first piece of beef on his place, the other man seemed to become utterly immersed in his meal, enjoying every morsel he placed in his mouth. Stopping for a moment the mage turned towards the hunter and gave a slight smile, "It was that obvious, huh?" With a laugh he went back to his food, "You're right though. There's really nothing I can do to change what happened." Of course I'm right - I'm just such a genius. Hiding a smirk at the comment as it went through his mind, he continued listening to Aoren as he continued speaking, and then gave him a salute. At the very least the man had cheered up. Somewhat. The news that he was a patient man was good - no need to worry about upsetting him. Tapping his head and then gesturing at the room around them the Drykas explained that he spent a lot of time thinking over things and neglected real life. The look on his face as he continued eating was an interesting one - whereas before he'd seemed exceedingly sour with the prospect of getting his meal, he'd now suddenly developed a massive appetite. Roderick found that his own stomach was growling fiercely, and so he joined the mage in devouring the food before him, swiftly tucking away the carrots and demolishing the chunk of venison that had been given to him. Aoren gestured at the mug sitting in front of the archer and commented with a chuckle about him having an admirer. Hopefully he wouldn't blush; if he did maybe his beard would hide it? Pushing aside any misgivings he might have had about that particular incident - not much, actually, because he found it a little flattering, really - he returned his attention to Aoren. He was talking about apple pie. For some reason Roderick found that hilarious just then. Maybe he'd already reached his limit? His mug was basically full though, so he had no idea why he was chuckling to himself about such as stupid little thing. He polished away another section of his meal, so that there was hardly anything left of it; his companion seemed to be taking his time, but Roderick just wanted the pains in his gut to leave him be. He was just swallowing down a mouthful of ale to wash away the last of his food when the Drykas asked him if he was from Syliras. For a few tics the question hung in the air and Roderick felt his mind returning to thoughts of home, before he fixed his eyes on Aoren, who was noting that the archers accent did not fit in with most Sylirans. "Guilty as charged, Aoren." He told the mage, "Syliras is a newer home for me. I'm from Zeltiva originally." He pushed his empty plate away, "I was just bored of home. I wanted to go out and see the world I'd heard about. Syliras seemed a good place to start, though in hindsight I could've chosen a better spot..."

[Aoren]

Aoren had never been to Zeltiva. The only place he’d ever been in his entire life was Syliras and the immediate lands surrounding it. There was certainly enough excitement to be had when you lived around thousands of people all with varying opinions and perspectives about the same things you lived with every day. He had nothing to compare living elsewhere to but if there was one thing he was certain of it was that he certainly wasn’t bad off living in the Fortress City of Peace.

“What makes you say that?” He speared a potato and placed it in his mouth finishing off the last of the spuds before moving on to his roast beef. “I don’t have much to go by but Syliras isn’t really a bad place. Call me naïve if you like but the truth is that I’d much rather be in Syliras than a lot of places I’ve heard about.” He shrugged his shoulders.

The world was filled with a multitude of interesting places. Perhaps one day Aoren would see them all. He didn’t envision that happening any time soon though. There was still too much he needed to do in the city. He felt nowhere near ready to step out into the wild and dangerous world on entirely on his own away from things that were familiar to him. Some might call him a coward for that. Aoren just believed he was making certain he was prepared for any eventuality. Venturing away from the immediate vicinity of the city left any number of travelers open to bandit raids, wild monsters, violent deaths and swift ends for the unprepared. All things considered Aoren believed himself wise in his caution.

Overly cautious? Maybe. But it was better in his mind to come over-prepared than not prepared at all.

“So what exactly is the world that you heard about? I’ve heard stories. I definitely never get bored of going to the Broken Casket to hear old Mortimer ramble on about the dangers of the Suvan Sea.” He laughed finishing off his roast beef chewing thoughtfully. “One of his favorite tales is of how he and his fearless crew faced down a giant sea monster with innumerable tentacles and a was heralded with a moan that sounded like the keening of a thousand dead souls.” Aoren shook his head.

He’d been to the Broken Casket a number of times. It was his preferred tavern over the Rearing Stallion and certainly a lot more entertaining than the White Swan Inn. In his youth he would spend hours there just listening to the wild tales that traveling merchants, hearty sailors and hardened mercenaries would spin over the hearth in the large open parlor of the tavern. He supposed that was what first kindled his spirit of adventure. Sitting there listening to the stories about the high seas or the great mountain rangers had filled his young mind with a sense of awe and wonder.

“Do I think the man really did that?” He shrugged his shoulders picking up his mug of water and drinking heartily to quench his parched throat. “Part of me seriously doubts it. There is a part of me though that wants to believe mere mortals are capable of such death defying feats of bravery. I guess you could say that is what keeps me firmly situated here in Syliras.” He looked around.

“I had something here once. Well, not here specifically. Syliras. A makeshift family that made me happier than you can imagine. We were misfits but we fit together perfectly. Each of us found something in each other that managed to balance out the greater whole. If that doesn’t make the world feel right then I don’t know what does?” He pushes away his empty plate. It was promptly retrieved by the barkeep who went back into the kitchen to retrieve Aoren’s slice of apple pie. Aoren decided to let his food settle a little bit before digging into it.

“If there is one thing I’ve learned living in Syliras it’s that the city is exactly what you’ve heard it is and its people are everything you’ve heard it isn’t.” He rubbed his nose allowing the philosophical statement to linger in the air for a few moments before he offered up an explanation.

“It means that in a city where everyone expects perfection all you will find is imperfection. I know what everyone thinks about Syliras. I know travelers that come here expect it to be a shining example of decency, freedom, justice and peace. The city is all of those things. The Knights of Sylir uphold that. But people change that.” He took another drink from his mug letting the water run down his throat. He set it down with a satisfied sigh.

“Take a man from the far west who has known nothing but war all of his life. Introduce him to a city that is civilized and intent on upholding a balanced harmony in all things. This place would be miserable and boring to him after a while. Take a wizard who seeks vast stores of knowledge, a place to craft wonders of magic. Syliras isn’t the place to do that. We are a practical people who make use of practical things. We’ve not much in the way of interest for frivolous fancies except for those that entertain us at a practical time. Even still, take a budding adventurer like you or I.” He gestured to Roderick and then to himself.

“The Knights of Sylir maintain the peace. They ferret out corruption and injustice very swiftly. Not only that but they exterminate threats to the city just as quickly. For people like you or me that leaves room for very little adventure.” Aoren shrugged his shoulders again allowing his words to sink in. He would either sound highly philosophical and logical or he would be disregarded entirely. It didn’t much matter to the young Drykas.

“Syliras is exactly what Syliras is supposed to be. It is civilized, orderly and peaceful. The Knights uphold that civility. They keep the order and they idealize peace. Humans and in that same respect, most races are anything but naturally civilized, orderly and peaceful people. So of course this Fortress City of Peace will breed internal conflict. Why? Because as a society we are clinging to ideas that can only succeed if we uphold them in ourselves first before trying to spread it across the whole of Mizahar.” He rubbed the back of his head suddenly looking slightly embarrassed.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to get all philosophical on you.” He laughed then picked up his fork and took a bite of his pie.

[Roderick]

"What makes you say that?" Roderick sighed; he wasn’t really sure of what part of the city riled him. “It’s just really cramped here – back home you can see the sky overhead all the time, and there’s the smell of salt and fish in the air; you don’t notice the smell everyone makes that much.” He actually sort of hated the fishy smell that lingered around in Zeltiva, especially since he liked spending so much time in the woods. He’d still choose it any day over the god’s awful stink that Syliras sported. “That and the knights… I can’t say I hate them, but they’re always there, looking at everyone. Gets under my skin at times… though it’s preferable to living in a shykehole like Sunberth, mm?” “So what exactly is the world that you heard about? I’ve heard stories. I definitely never get bored of going to the Broken Casket to hear old Mortimer ramble on about the dangers of the Suvan Sea.”Sharing a laugh with the Drykas as he finished what few scraps he had left, Roderick smiled in amusement at the talk of this Mortimer fellow; he sounded like an interesting character. He’d have to go down there sometime just to hear one of these stories himself. “ One of his favourite tales is of how he and his fearless crew faced down a giant sea monster with innumerable tentacles and a was heralded with a moan that sounded like the keening of a thousand dead souls.” A smirk formed over the hunter’s lips as he and Aoren both found amusement in the old man’s tall tales. “Do I think the man really did that?” I imagine the only thing he’s ever beaten is the little minnow in his breeches… Shrugging the Drykas chugged his water “Part of me seriously doubts it. There is a part of me though that wants to believe mere mortals are capable of such death defying feats of bravery. I guess you could say that is what keeps me firmly situated here in Syliras.” Interesting. Aoren kept on speaking, talking of a family of misfits he’d had here in the fortress city; they’d each found something in each other which had helped them. From the sounds of things they had all died, moved away or otherwise had become estranged, leaving the Drykas beside him on his own. Despite being in the full flow of his conversation became enormously distracted about halfway through the Drykas’ words. One moment he was listening – then suddenly there was pie. Drowning it in milk he stabbed his spoon into it and began tearing into the thing as though he hadn’t seen food for years. A bit of milk ran free from his lips and onto his beard, but he wiped it away quickly and continued, swiftly delivering the tasty morsels of food into his stomach, where it sat heavily with the rest of his meal. Taking a swig of the drink he’d been given by the man down the counter, he leaned back slightly on his stool and stretched with a groan. All the while the Drykas was chattering away philosophically. Having missed a certain portion of the talk Roderick let himself hone back in so he could consider what was being said. “It means that in a city where everyone expects perfection all you will find is imperfection.. .” The words made perfect sense to Roderick, who was guilty of each thing that Aoren said after; the stories he’d heard had spoken of Syliras being a grand place to be, but all he’d found here was a placid, monotone daily routine which was the same as, if not a little more boring, the one he had back in Zeltiva. The idea that it was not the knights, but rather the people of the city that prevented Syliras from being a shining beacon of light was an interesting one – something which Roderick could agree with. The example of a man from the west being introduced to the city provoked an interesting image – one which helped emphasise the good elements of the city while downsizing its flaws. He couldn’t blame Aoren for that, though – Roderick wouldn’t want to pain a poor image of his own home, either. The next thing he spoke of was a little different to things before; he mentioned that a wizard wouldn’t find a place within the city – a particularly odd thing to say, given the Drykas himself was one. Either way he was able to make several valid points about the knighthood. They did help prevent corruption and the like within the city, even if that meant they had to be harsh and heavy-handed against those that would bring it into the walls. It made people that were a little curious about unusual things at a disadvantaged. While debates like this had never been of particular interest to Roderick – usually he just ignored them or moved away from whoever was discussing it – he found that, in this case, he was actually quite interested. Maybe it was because it was a discussion on something he could understand, rather than some abstract concept dreamed up by a wealthy scholar in his fine robes. It was a little bit of deep thought between two men who enjoyed their simple pleasures – an adventurous Drykas mage and a curious Zeltivan archer. Their discussion soon ended on a fairly pleasant note, with Aoren noting that Syliras was how it was meant to be, and that it was the natural resistance to civility in people that bred conflict within the walls. It seemed people would have to learn to kill their inner demons before they could ever spread peace through Mizahar. Now he’s got me doing it… The Drykas actually seemed a little embarrassed by the little tirade he’d gone on, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. Apologizing and then laughing the Drykas dug into his pie, enjoying himself. Having finished his own a long time before the archer shoved it away and picked up his mug, swallowing down some of his drink and then setting the tankard back down. “Well if I ever get into a debate with someone I’ll send them to you.” He commented. “But now that we’ve got that little talk out… what are you going to do tonight? It’s your nameday – you’re enjoying some good food, but what about fun? I know about what you were going to do earlier, but you’ve changed your mind about that now, so…” He raised a brow at the Drykas and awaited his answer, returning to normal a while later as he received it.OOCSorry for the really late reply - I've just been busy with a bunch of other threads and I kept putting this off until later - look where that got me >.>

[Aoren]

“Honestly, I haven’t a clue as to what I want to do now that I’ve finished my meal.” He laughed good naturedly. It really had been a few years since he’d gone out and done something not so self-destructive on his birthday. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Aoren pushed his empty plate away letting the barkeep take it. He picked up his mug of water observing the Zeltivan archer for a moment as he drank it thoughtfully.

“I don’t have any family and the one person I could really call a friend these days…” Aoren thought on his Drykas friend Daveth. The man was probably happily snoozing after a long day’s work and some heavy drinking afterwards. The young man shook his head with a fond smile. “…I may just make my way to a clearing I like to frequent in the Bronze Wood and catch up on practicing some of my techniques. Yes. It’s late and it a dumb idea but it’s better than just going back to my room.” He gave Roderick a meaningful look.

The hunter would know very well exactly what techniques he was referring to. He’d used his magic several times in front of the Zeltivan but it had always been in careful moderation. When he was practicing in the freedom of the Bronze Woods Aoren tended to let himself get a little more creative. He had recently gained a modicum of power over his third element and was barely beginning to brush over the full potential of that element. To date he could consider himself a very skilled practitioner of Reimancy. He commanded power over Air, Fire and Water. He could fuse those elements to create lightning and when he concentrated he could even blend Air and Water to create Ice.

He was beginning to feel as if his comprehension of the magic was becoming stagnant though. Aoren held a desire to truly push the limits of what he was capable. Not just with reimancy but in nearly anything he did. He understood the risks. Those risks had been explained to him all too well growing up learning how to wield the discipline properly. He gave Roderick a sly smile.

“Not afraid of a little fireworks display are you?” Aoren laughed in good humor in a considerably brighter mood than when he’d first arrived in the brothel. He was glad that the Zeltivan had shown up when he had. It was high time that Aoren stop wallowing in his self-pity and accept that there were aspects of the past he could not change.

“I’d offer to let you tag along but I can’t say that it will be very interesting for you watching me…” He eyed the barkeep who was busy tending to another customer at the opposite end of the bar. “…train. Not to mention the potential risk to your health. Being a hunter though I suspect you understand the meaning of danger.” He brought his mug up to his lips tipping it back downing the rest of his water in a few short gulps. Setting it down he pushed it away then stretched reaching up toward the ceiling and flexing his fingers displaying his palms. There at the center were the ritual scars that marked him as a reimancer. He rolled his shoulders then dropped his arms rising from his place at the bar.

“I know. I’m not the most creative when it comes to leisure time. I’m usually either working, sleeping, training or doing some variation of that pattern.” He moved to make his way out of the Herald’s Arms and away from yet another mistake. The Drykas paused halting in his step. He turned to Roderick facing him for a moment.

“Unless you’ve got some ideas of your own? I’m certainly open to suggestions.” He folded his arms over his chest. Aoren really didn’t have anything else to do that night.

NoteNo worries! I understand a busy schedule.

[Roderick]

"That makes two of us." Roderick smiled and quietly sat on his chair thinking. He stared into his mug and swirled his drink about inside it. "Sorry to hear about your family." He said sympathetically. He listened with growing interest to the mage's idea and at first had to sit back, chew the inside of his mouth and think it over a second time. Getting to see all of Aoren's skillset could be an interesting thing, though he wasn't entirely sure what he could do while he observed. Still, sometimes he liked to just sit and relax. “Not afraid of a little fireworks display are you?” Roderick smiled back at the mage and nodded to him. "Alright, you've convinced me. And don't worry - I'm sure I'll be entertained." Then he waved his hand dismissively at Aoren's concerns "I'll stand away to the side and leave you to your work. You look like you've good aim and I'm not looking to be a pile of ash anyhow. We'll get along fine." He watched as Aoren held his hands out palms up, showing the scars etched out over his flesh. Without needing to ask he knew it was a reminder of how he'd been inducted into Reimancy; Roderick's mother had told him that cuts had to be made on the palms, but otherwise she'd been very vague about what the process entailed. Aoren commented on how he wasn't entirely sure of what to do with his freetime and Roderick found one or two similarities between them. As the Drykas rose from his seat and headed towards the door the hunter made sure he'd paid before he also started to leave. He'd forgotten to hand his money over once or twice while giddy from the drink and it'd always ended badly. Just as they were heading towards the door Aoren slowed to a stop and turned to face the Zeltivan; Do I have any other ideas? He couldn't think of anything that could be more interesting than seeing a blow things up."Seeing how magic and archery mix could be interesting." He shrugged. "I've nothing better to do, so if you don't mind I'll just hang about - I'll even go 'ooh' and 'ahh' if you like." The drink was talking now. "Come on, let's get moving. The sooner I get some fresh air the better." OOCRather short no doubt, but I sort of turned around and saw I'd basically ditched this thread. Sorry about that, it wasn't intentional.