Rising Spirits (Venser)

by **Verin Rush** on June 17th, 2014, 11:34 am

83rd Day of Summer, 514AV

An extra delivery of Ravok’s own whisky had been sent through from the Lakeshore, where the High Spirits Distillery was located, to the city of Ravok, to many notable establishments that serves alcohol, and The Malt House was one of them. On this day in particular, they were serving whisky at half the normal price, and they were expecting that they would be very busy during the day and well on into the night. Grayson had called in all hands to serve tonight, so Verin was behind the bar with the owner of the establishment and one other, younger, bartender, a number of kitchen staff, and waiting girls.

He was smiling tonight, pleased that the Malt House would get so much business tonight; he knew Grayson was still trying to pick up the pieces after the burglary half way through last season, and this surge in business would no doubt help keep the money rolling in, and have the Malt House paying off any remaining debts.

“Five whiskies please, Verin,” called one of the patrons, a regular who Verin knew the name of, but couldn’t quite pinpoint at this moment. Still, he smiled widely at the customer, as was expected from him when on he was on this particular side of the bar. He loudly called over to the gentleman, asking what age of whisky they would like, and the reply came back almost instantly, “The oldest! The best you have, good lad! It’s not every day that we get to drink so well for so little money!”

Verin nodded and collected the already opened whisky bottle from its shelf – people were, for once, ignoring the younger whiskies and were singing the praises of the delightful, searing palate of the older ones that they had never yet tried. Verin wondered if this would lead to them buying the older drinks in the future, now that they knew what they were missing out on. He pulled out the loose cork and placed it on the bar top as he grabbed five tumblers from the shelves below. Feeling generous, he poured a little more than a dram in each, hoping that it would seal the deal with these five gentlemen. Then, he pushed them to the other side of the bar.

"That’s six silver mizas each, gentlemen. Or three gold pieces." Though it was still a high price, the men were not complaining as they each handed over the money; one gentleman even offered to pay for the next round, and then, after his first taste, insisted that he pay for the next round, so enamoured was he by the taste of the 48 season old brand they were selling.

by **Venser Rush** on June 17th, 2014, 12:38 pm

Half-price?

Venser had heard the rumour in the streets that the Malt House, the establishment in which Verin worked at, was serving prized whiskey at halved cost. While Venser was not a heavy drinker, the fact that the cost would be lessened and the fact that he had an excuse to go see his brother was enough of a motivation to spur himself onwards. He had just left the Emporium for the evening, the ascent of Leth's dim glow marking the period where Venser could no longer work soundly, the darkness consuming his ability to carve, or so the excuse was.

Lanterns could keep the Rush twin working if he desired to, but there was no inspiration. Little by little, he found his focus elsewhere. The power promised to him by the study of magic, the pursuits of the transcendent were quickly and effectively cutting him off from the false passion that existed for carving. Venser's skill in the craft was sufficient for what his purposes were, but the mundane status of his profession also protected him. It was known in certain circles, particularly in the Institute for Higher Learning, that Venser was a Legate and a mage of at least one discipline, but to the general public of Ravok, the secret was kept. Venser Rush was, in the eyes of the people who he encountered on a daily basis, an apprentice to Mikayas the Sculptor.

It was what he preferred.

The thoughts came and passed with steps leading towards the docks, the idea entirely gone when the light of the tavern reflected from crystalline features. As Venser Rush entered the Malt House, he noted the presence of so many people. A multitude of drunken or on the verge of becoming drunken faces, all illuminated by the light and holding glass cups filled (to varying depths) with whiskey. The sounds of song and merriment were a plenty in the tavern this evening, a set of drunken men singing about carols of love and romance.

""And the ravosala flowed through the river yoon, be there Jeeenson be there.
Oh he ran and ran, and chased the boat, but it was hard for him to reach her.
Oh she rowed away to the docks and left, and his heart was bleedin' for her.
But she crashed n' burned and he cried all nigh', and it was hard for 'im to griever.""

That... turned sour right quick, didn't it?

The Rush twin ignored the songs as the set of drunkards immediately switched their tune, Venser situating himself at the bar and immediately finding that his gaze locked upon the sight of a familiar face. His face. Verin Rush was serving a group who ordered five whiskeys, the total, to Venser's surprise, coming out to a paltry three gold-rimmed mizas. The younger Rush twin was no expert on exquisite drinks, but he found that to be rather cheap.

A grin materialized upon his expression as he knocked upon the bar, waving to call attention to himself as he called out,

"And a glass here, Rush! A double of the same sort that the men over there had."

Venser motioned towards the carolling bastards, a chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned forward on the bar. If his brother was nearby him, he'd speak out, a grin materialized upon his features,

"Heard about the deal. Half-price? Can it be true? I thought it'd be nice to see my brother for a change."

Recently, the Rush twins had taken to sharing more of their lives with one another, and Venser, the more secretive of the two, had promised to be more open with his elder brother. Part of his reason for being at the Malt House this evening was to make good on that promise.

by **Verin Rush** on June 17th, 2014, 1:51 pm

The blond bartender looked up as he heard the familiar voice of his twin brother calling to him for another of the same, and he could not help the wide grin that slipped onto his face as he met his brother’s crystalline gaze. Even though the pair had adjoining rooms at Tarsin’s Boaring House, the pair worked different hours, and Venser was rarely there even when he did have time to spare, having spent so much of his time down at the Institute for Higher Learning. Verin wasn’t sure what his younger brother was up to down there, but he didn’t question it, pleased that the two were at least opening up to each other more than they had done in the past.

The elder of the Rush twins leant down to pick up a tumbler and uncorked the bottle, where he then poured a generous helping of the fiery alcohol, though more than he intended fell into the tumbler as two hands clapped themselves down on Verin’s shoulder, causing him to jolt. Without even looking, he knew whose firm grim was around his shoulders, and it was only confirmed when the deep, gravelly voice of the establishment owner, “Oh, no, no, can’t have that thing there, Verin… people will thing they’re seeing double. They’ll be thinking they’re more drunk than they actually are!”

Verin grinned at this as he recorked the bottle and placed it on a shelf below, knowing that he’d very possibly need it again shortly, as most punters were willing to try the oldest whisky they had in the tavern. Passing the tumbler over to his brother, he leaned in closer and murmured conspiratorially to his brother, "I think Grayson would prefer it that way, don’t you? The drunker people think they are, the more likely they are to want another stiff drink."

He grinned and held up a finger, indicating that he’d be right back, and he sidled down the bar to greet another patron, who asked for wine. A little taken aback, Verin frowned, "We have a sale on today, madam, selling whisky at half price. Are you sure you wouldn’t like-" The woman interrupted, stating that she wanted what she had asked for, and Verin bit his tongue and nodded. He had expected ale to be served, like normal, especially to help wash down the burn of the whisky, but wine? The kitchen, whilst it was open, was not serving full meals today, and wine was often reserved for meals. But he poured the drink anyway and exchanged the money with the woman. "Enjoy your drink, madam."

As the woman walked away, he cast a cursory glance along the bar to make sure that no one else was waiting to be served. Most had drinks in their hands, or were talking to Grayson and the other bartender, so Verin was free to return to his brother, "So what brings you to my end of the city? Mikayas working you too hard?" He joked as he reached forward, picked up Venser’s drink and took a sip of it. He swilled it around in his mouth a couple of times, savouring the taste and sensation, before swallowing.

by **Venser Rush** on July 23rd, 2014, 11:45 pm

Work was far from the prominent thing on Venser's mind, but he appreciated the joke, flashing Verin a smirk before he shook his head. In his left hand, bound by a thin leather strap, was the journal that he kept, the compendium of his limited, but expanded magical knowledge. He had opened the compendium with information regarding the workings of Auristics, but on this day, while learning, he had come to an intriguing connection in relation to the three disciplines of personal magic that he had learned. The first, the Flux, was a magic that he was rather familiar with. The Rush twin set the journal upon the bar's counter, the glass of whiskey his brother had poured for him resting on a coaster until the elder had taken it.

Venser neither minded this or noticed it, the knowledge that the Rush twins shared all excepting their income and the greater details of their magical knowledge set in stone and cemented into existence. He reached for it with his right hand once Verin had set it back down, taking a sip. The crisp, strong taste of aged whiskey was not quite what he had expected, a cough rumbling from Venser's lips before he looked towards his brother,

"Not Mikayas, no. Thadeus Lazarin. He mentioned something in passing to me the other day that I haven't quite been able to break. Perhaps it's too advanced for my current understanding, but I doubt it. I sincerely do. Do you mind if I explain? Vocalizing my thoughts, however softly, has always helped when dealing with abstract concepts."

Verin was about to learn where he had acquired the visible scars on his right arm, for there was no way to explain what was said without alluding to the discipline. Venser reached into his rucksack, producing a piece of charcoal before he shifted his gaze to Verin. The Rush twin's fingers moved to clasp the writing utensil, and thus, he began to draw. A single circle was drawn, multiple rays emitting from the circle in a seemingly sporadic, though if one looked closely, uniform pattern.

When the Rush twin spoke, his voice was low, purposely so,

"The soul. As we both know, it is the very essence of the consciousness and identity. And from it, the truest, purest djed that exists within the mortal coil is manifested. The soul is a separate entity, and though I do not understand exactly how it is split, it is. The astral body seems like a sort of bridge between the soul and the corporeal body, and is the main reason why the human body is capable of magic. Relating this to the Flux and Auristics is simple enough due to the fact that djed is pushed and directed into the body. For Auristics, it's less-so directed at a person as it is an extension of djed bridging with the aura of an outside source.

Reimancy, however, is puzzling me. The ability to manifest djed outside of the physical form, I know from experience, is physically possible. I've done it. I've seen it and experienced the effects of this phenomenon, but my understanding of exactly how this is possible is beginning to make my head ache."

Venser despised ignorance. He despised the notion of not having the answers that he sought. He knew, both intrinsically and from practical experience that djed could be physically pulled from the soul and manifested into the world, but he could not, for the life of him, explain exactly how it was done. He could feel it. The ribbon that materialized within his mind and was pulled from his body and into the world showed this well enough.

But Venser couldn't actually explain it. And that bothered him.

by **Verin Rush** on July 30th, 2014, 9:42 pm

Resting his hands on the surface of the bar, he watched with a smile as his brother struggled briefly with the whisky in a way that Verin didn't. It was one of the many differences between the twin brothers, many of which were caused due to lifestyle differences - Venser was a more proficient Mage, one who had learnt of more arts than Verin, and was more proficient in few, whereas Verin had only specialised in a few. His dabblings were only down to occasional teachings from his brother, as he had been given snippets on the day he and Venser went to the Kelvic Research Institute.

The bartender tried to think back to the conversations they had then, to recall information. He would be no help to his brother in his trying to understand, but he would do his damnest to attempt to help his brother. So he nodded, giving his younger brother the floor. And he remembered, and he watched, and he listened. The drawing fascinated Verin, as he listened to Venser's explanation of the bizarre circle. Most of the explanation of the soul and Djed was nothing particularly new to the elder of the a Rush twins, but it was still good to go over what he already knew.

Glancing to the left, he raised a hand to pause Venser in his explanation, motioning that he had a punter to serve quickly. He ambled over to the new arrival with a expectant smile on his face; the patron was a regular so there was no need to ask a question to asserts in what he wanted to drink. Verin suspected that it would be a mug of ale, and he was right, when he heard the request asking for the usual, holding the correct amount of money already in his hand. As he picked up a mug, Verin accepted the money from the regular. He placed the few coins away before he began to pour out the golden ale from the nozzle in the bar. The barrel less than half empty now, was offering up the most infallible of ales, and he knew that the punter would like it.

Passing the drink over, he didn't head back to his brother immediately, stopping for a chime or two to speak with the customer first. By the time he dud return to Venser, he saw that the circle had been finished, and he listened as Venser continued to speak. Believing the conundrum to be entirely related to Auristics, Verin was shocked to discover that the issue was revolving around Reimancy - a magic that he knew little about, other than that it was the manifestation of the elements by using up one's Djed. He would be of no help to Venser. But what shocked him was how blithely his brother mentioned his apparent initiation into the physical craft.

The elder brother raised a brow, questioning, “You were initiated?”He asked, his tone not unkind, merely surprised. It wasn't that Verin was particularly upset with the secrecy (he had long since accepted it), just the method in the deliverance of the news. But curiosity took over and he didn't dwell on his first question for long, “Is that... how? I mean, I know one can't just learn it... at least, not in the same way I learned Hypnotism.”

by **Verin Rush** on September 14th, 2014, 5:07 pm

With his brother presently occupied it's the puzzle in front of him, Verin did not receive an answer about the elemental magic, nor did he thing that he would gain any particular, obvious knowledge from his younger brother. As it was, the night was a busy one, mainly due to the sale of whiskies at such a cheap price, relative to other evenings. Verin didn't really have the time to socialise too much, particularly with his brother, who would be no doubt nursing his drink slowly, rather than helping the Malt House with its income.

When Verin saw more enter the tavern, he stepped down the bar a little and smiled, waiting for the new arrivals to approach. They did so, but stopped at a little distance from the bar, reading the signs to see what was on offer and how much each drink costs. “Though it isn't mentioned on the main listings, all of the whiskies that we serve are half the normal price, gentlemen.” one man met his gaze, though his expression was a doubtful one, Verin noticed.

"No, even with the cut, I'd wager the drink is still far too steeply priced for it to be worth it. Especially for such a small drink. One mouthful, isn't it? No point in spending all that for something so pathetic and small." The blond bartender was proud that his smile didn't falter once; he had heard similar utterings before from punters, and he was prepared to beat them back on a normal day, today, with the half price deal. It was far easier.

“Ah, yes, you might think that there is only a single mouthful available. But I dare even he of the strongest stomach to down our strongest whiskey in one single swallow.” Reaching down, he picked up one of the delicate tumblers and measured out a single dram of a well-aged whisky and placed it on the surface between himself and the man who had spoken and met his gaze. “In fact, I challenge you to down this liquid without spluttering. If you can, I will offer you and all your group a free dram of our most expensive whisky. But I'll wager you cannot.”

Verin's smile grew as the man, who also had a smug look on his face, accepted the challenge and picked up the small tumbler. He raised the glass and his friends cheered as he brought it to his mouth. True, the liquid all entered through the orifice, but as it trickled to the back of his throat, it was clear that the man was not expecting the fiery liquid to burn as much as it did. It might have been the work of his Hypnotism, or the nature of the drink, but most of the golden nectar ended up sprayed across the bar as the man spluttered and coughed. Others watching fell into rolls of laughter and well-meant teasing, and one even leant across the bar to offer his hand to Verin, "It is not often that someone can best my friend here. Well done, lad."

The young bartender took the other's hand and shook it, saying nothing of his possible trickery. “Whisky is an acquired taste, and some palettes never become accustomed to it. But would any others like to try some of the whisky?” The remainder of the group all nodded in enthusiastic affirmation and Verin efficiently poured two drams each and exchanged the tumblers for the correct money. To the first man, however, he offered a mug of ale, free of charge, to wash down the clearly incompatible taste of the whisky.

Turning away from the group, he met the gaze of Grayson, who had clearly been watching the events with quiet amusement. Besides Venser, pathetic owner of the tavern probably knew Verin ( and his talents and interests) best. As Verin passed the man, he whispered in his employee's ear, "Rhysol would be lucky to have you."

OOCEurgh I don't know if that last sentence is too close to blasphemy or not xD but I like it...

by **Daegron** on October 22nd, 2014, 4:16 am

The Future belongs to the Brave!

Verin Rush :

Venser Rush :

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