[The Quill's Rest] A new friend does share old memories

Flaren has a meeting with someone very important who shares with him some important information.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

[The Quill's Rest] A new friend does share old memories

Postby Flaren Ferno on September 28th, 2014, 3:38 am

date: fall, 2 514 AV
location: The Quill's Rest


The room was silent surrounded by a screaming young man and an old gray bearded gentleman who had a drunken air of confidence about him. The boy had just finished with a proper scolding of the old man, but continued on yelling even after breaking the cool air of stillness that was customary at such a calm dining establishment.

"Who the hell do you think you are coming in here like you owe me less than the fullest god damn respect after the hell you put us through. What in god's name have you been doing this whole time and why the hell didn't you write." Flaren gave a deep sigh and returned back to his seat staring the grey bearded man dead in the eye not even breaking his gaze to blink.

"I invited you here, because i thought you'd be mature enough to hold your tongue."

"your drinks sir," the waitress delicately placed the two cups of tea in front of the men, bending down to reach the tables and giving an awkward but somewhat apologetic smile to the old man.

Flaren batted the tea away from his self. the cup shattered on the ground and soaked the hardwood floor with hot chamomile. still staring at the man who casually chugged his full spot of tea. "I'd make a comment about you spiking yours but it's obvious how gone you already are."Flaren said gravely. The old man tossed 5 gold mizas the girls way.

"And buy the whole of the Quill's Rest's patrons a drink of their choosing on the boy here,"The old man had a calm demeanor about him, not even phased by the soulless death stare being cast by Flaren, "And keep a silver or two for yourself."
The man had a scruffy grey beard fully grown that plumed down to the middle of his iron breastplate. His big red drunken smile and chipped rotten teeth were similar to that of a common sea dog, yet his slicked grey hair showed features of a man who had their full share of both experience and youth, a full resume of the "slickest willy this side of the Post Valterrian era" as his mother liked to call him.

"You're a bum" Flaren still had not broken gaze with the man who seemed to cough chuckle and hickup all at the same time as a response to Flaren, but to Flaren's disappointment he added a bit more.

"You know, I know that, but if we were less than family I'd grab that quarterstaff of yours and beat you upside the head with it, then I'd pick my dirty yellow teeth with it."

Flaren glanced down at the base of his quarterstaff which leaned on the right side of his chair. 'my quarterstaff... has always been there for me.'

He recalled memories of his past. This staff had been through it all, every midnight delight, every fond farewell. For every beautiful blonde girl that stole his heart he had at least a dozen tales of the quarterstaff that was there for him in a pinch. It was a warm summer...
Last edited by Flaren Ferno on September 28th, 2014, 7:31 am, edited 2 times in total.
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(flashback) [The Quill's Rest] A new friend does share old

Postby Flaren Ferno on September 28th, 2014, 7:29 am

It was one of the hottest summers Flaren had ever suffered through. The sun hung high in the sky like an executioners axe. Dark horses panted past the old dirt road his friends were crossing. The dry grass tickled their knees as they waited patiently for the horses carriage to cross. Joyfully their feet kicked up the dust which remained still in the air that carried no breeze.

"Hey Flaren," started the boy Flaren had known the longest, "if you could choose any magical skill which one would you choose?"

"I'd be a fire reimancer!" he stated back to his friend Elijah. Flaren sounded out what he though would be explosion sounds as he threw dust into the air. "Lets pretend ike were fire reimancers and we have to catch the bad guys." The jovial sound of the childrens laughter filled the air with hints of joyfulness. they danced in the grassy knoll like cherubs in a strawberry patch for hours.

Hey Flaren, hold my staff while i go pee. Elijah handed his quarterstaff to Flaren. One day this staff would be passed from Elijah to Flaren affter Elijah dies in a reimance accident.

Oh how things can change.

An old regal looking carriage painted black with gold trimming being towed by two luxurious looking horses stopped on the trail just adjasent to where the children were playing and about 100 yards away. An old loosely skinned white man in a trenchcoat and a top hat stepped from his carriage. The lanterns watched the horses while he walked towards the children.

"dont you know this is my knoll" croaked the old man. "now i want you three boys to come here." Foolishly two of the boys did as they were told, but Flaren was waiting on his fourth friend elijah who had gone to the bathroom.

The old man was scolding the two boys while Flaren looked around for Elijah. He looked around trees and over by bushes, but couldn't find his friend. 'Where is Elijah?' Flaren thought to himself. He would look high and low for his friend. Nothing would stop him from finding his best pal. That was just the kind of kid Flaaren was, he always had to watch out for his friends seeing as he was the tallest, and therefore the strongest. he walked around trees and stepped over thorny bushes but still could not find his friend. 'maybe he's pver on this bush... no... maybe he rolled down this hill... where is Elijah?' all these thoughts were racing through his head as panic started to set in. Elijah was nowhere to be found and he was Flaren's responsibility.
At a very young age his parents drilled it into his heads that he'd always need to keep with his friend when he'd go out to play. In fact one day he was scolded brutally for leaving his friend behind after they went on an ice fishing trip.He returned home without his friend, and of course both children's parents were less than pleased. They all put on their winter coats and followed Flaren to where they were ice fishing, and sure enough Elijah was happily seated on his stump over the ice fishing hole where Flaren said he would be.
A shrill cry came from off in the distance where Flaren had left his two friends. He instinctively turned and ran towards his friends. The old man was dragging one of the boys who was no longer wearing his trousers while the other boy was nervously pulling on the shoulder of the struggling kicking screaming child. they were almost to the carriage, but Flaren charged at the skirmish screaming violently and sprinting as fast as his little heart could carry him. The struggling boy's hand slipped from his friends grasp as the old man made his final pull to bring him into his carriage, Flaren leaped at the old man swinging the quarterstaff with all of his might at the old man's back which was overextended already by lifting the poor screaming boy into the air. The man gave a throaty breathless croak as his body went limp. The boy fell from his death grip and began to run home. All the boys followed suit.

The old man lay breathless on the ground with blood flowing freely from his cold callous sneer still tattooed on his dead bastard face.
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[The Quill's Rest] A new friend does share old memories

Postby Flaren Ferno on September 28th, 2014, 7:10 pm

Flaren's Father was soft in his tone instinctively knowing Flaren went to a very dark place. "Boy, you know your mother and you hadn't left my mind for a moment."

"We're not family"

Flaren's father's gasped and choked on a bit of the tea he had refilled. "Hey now, boy you know we're blood, and if there's one thing ive learned on my travels it's that blood-"

"We're not family so why don't you just grab this stick and do with it what you will." Flaren held the quarterstaff at his father's chest. "Skittza."

The sound of his only son calling him by his first name hit the man like a war-hammer to the gut, but just like war this man wouldn't kill over and die. He'd double up his might and respond in a sound and absolute tone. "Hear me now boy, because I'm the only one who will really tell you exactly how everyone else feels about you. youre a spineless, witless, lazy, waste of oxygen. The worst part about this is you lack the humbleness to hold your goddess given grace as if you deserve the gifts that she's given you. You're weak, depressed, and what you make up for with pride you lack in any applicable talent. Get your head on straight boy, because this chance is only going to come once. Now drink your tea and pipe up before i really knock you upside the head, take you for all your worth and leave you broke naked and without a silver to your name. You'll be Zith food by the time I'm done with you!"

Flaren's head sank. The old man wasn't wrong. It was as if he knew him somehow, was this a father's intuition? the ability to see past the confidence, and the cool, and the emotions and see straight to the core of his own flesh and blood. Skittza could see Flaren's whole life. All of his mistakes, all of his wants, regrets, past present and future motivations were clear in the eyes of his father.

"I was once you," spoke the drunken oracle. "what are you, still chasing skirts?" The old man sipped his tee and chuckled a warm and friendly but almost callous laugh. "It ends..." the old man leaned forward as if he were telling a secret, "when you get a girl pregnant."

Flaren was supposed to laugh, but he was busy reflecting on his own life.

"Now, don't wind up being a sad sack because your father was a bit harsh with you, just chin up and keep your wits about you so it doesn't happen again." Skittza took the final sip of his tea then asked for another refill. "and yes, it was spiked,"

They talked until the sun went down. His grandfather had passed and left a tremendous fortune in a shipbuilding company. Flaren was to go to college and study everything that was necessary to run the company seeing as he was his grandfather's only surviving hei (next to his father of course who was busy saving the world).

After they left, Skittza went home with Flaren and slept on his couch, but when he awoke in the night the man was already gone.
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[The Quill's Rest] A new friend does share old memories

Postby Perplexity on October 18th, 2014, 6:32 pm

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Howdy Flaren,

So, the main problem here is that you're drafting significant NPC's with absolutely no write-ups to accompany them. I have approached you about this before. You are welcome to interact with/draft as many as you like so long as they are following the prescribed rules of the forums. Until such time as you have fallen in line with those rules then I will not be grading this thread.

Regards,
Perplexity
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