BlackAndBlueEyes
01-04-09, 10:15 AM
Solo. Jus' trynna' get back into the game.
It seemed that for once in my life, something was about to go my way.
As I stood in the shopping district of Radasanth one warm and sunny morning, hundreds of people buzzing around me as they moved from shop to shop, all I could help thinking was boy, an honest life. I wonder what it feels like.
Three years had passed since I quietly hung up my daggers and called it quits as a cold-hearted killer. Sure, that choice might have pissed off a few of the people who thought they could run Corone from the lower rungs of the ladder, but it was a decision made out of a simple look at risk versus reward. I'd risk my life extinguishing someone else's for a small reward of a handful of gold and a pat on the back. Hardly worth the time and effort I'd put into every kill.
I think the thing that pushed me over the edge was during that clan tournament, where that asshat chef Christopher Knighton gave me a "mystery partner" for one of the two-on-twos. That mystery partner, of course, was motherfucker extraordinaire Joshua Cronen; the man who I beat in the Dajas Pagoda by the judges' favor to become a Warrior. When I saw him come over the top of the sand dune as my partner, something inside me snapped. I didn't want to fight anymore. It was a decision that came just like that, and I stood up and walked out on Cipher Nex and its megalomaniac leader.
Fast forward three years, where nothing exciting happened. I spent that time working odd jobs around town and wondering when my liver was going to finally hand in its two week notice after all the punishment I put it through every Saturday night.
My grand scheme, so to speak, finally came to fruition a little less than a month ago. I finally scraped up enough money to lease an empty storefront, which is what I'm currently standing in front of. The vacant building itself sits in the considerably less busy outside part of the shopping district. It was made of brick and was still in good condition, considering that it hasn't been inhabited in about two years. A thin layer of dust caked the windows that lined the entire front wall from the door to the corner of the building. The windows of the second and third levels were shuttered up.
Boy, did I have my work cut out for me in the coming weeks. I really hope that I don't suddenly come down with a severe dust allergy.
With the papers that detailed my lease and the parchment from the city government that allowed me to open up a business here gripped tight in one hand and the keys to the front door in the other, I took a deep breath and strode up to the heavy oak door that stood as a symbol of my future.
It seemed that for once in my life, something was about to go my way.
As I stood in the shopping district of Radasanth one warm and sunny morning, hundreds of people buzzing around me as they moved from shop to shop, all I could help thinking was boy, an honest life. I wonder what it feels like.
Three years had passed since I quietly hung up my daggers and called it quits as a cold-hearted killer. Sure, that choice might have pissed off a few of the people who thought they could run Corone from the lower rungs of the ladder, but it was a decision made out of a simple look at risk versus reward. I'd risk my life extinguishing someone else's for a small reward of a handful of gold and a pat on the back. Hardly worth the time and effort I'd put into every kill.
I think the thing that pushed me over the edge was during that clan tournament, where that asshat chef Christopher Knighton gave me a "mystery partner" for one of the two-on-twos. That mystery partner, of course, was motherfucker extraordinaire Joshua Cronen; the man who I beat in the Dajas Pagoda by the judges' favor to become a Warrior. When I saw him come over the top of the sand dune as my partner, something inside me snapped. I didn't want to fight anymore. It was a decision that came just like that, and I stood up and walked out on Cipher Nex and its megalomaniac leader.
Fast forward three years, where nothing exciting happened. I spent that time working odd jobs around town and wondering when my liver was going to finally hand in its two week notice after all the punishment I put it through every Saturday night.
My grand scheme, so to speak, finally came to fruition a little less than a month ago. I finally scraped up enough money to lease an empty storefront, which is what I'm currently standing in front of. The vacant building itself sits in the considerably less busy outside part of the shopping district. It was made of brick and was still in good condition, considering that it hasn't been inhabited in about two years. A thin layer of dust caked the windows that lined the entire front wall from the door to the corner of the building. The windows of the second and third levels were shuttered up.
Boy, did I have my work cut out for me in the coming weeks. I really hope that I don't suddenly come down with a severe dust allergy.
With the papers that detailed my lease and the parchment from the city government that allowed me to open up a business here gripped tight in one hand and the keys to the front door in the other, I took a deep breath and strode up to the heavy oak door that stood as a symbol of my future.