BattleMage
02-12-10, 12:43 AM
Recruiting Thread Located Here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=159645#post159645)
The Peaceful Promenade, a tranquil bar residing in the heart of Underwood. A place known as much for its dull nights as the watered down ale they served. Since my arrival to the remote town I felt as if I was visiting the tavern more frequently. I even carried it's foul stench everywhere with me, a smell made up of sweat, smoke, and stale liquor. To my luck though the small studio I was renting out had a bath tub, but sadly in the past few days I lacked the physical drive to use it. I had spent the last few nights in a liquor induced state of comatose and the past several days hanging loosely from my regular stool at the bar, drinking my problems away. It wasn't the ideal lifestyle for a wandering mage like myself, but until tonight I had been content.
Usually I found myself surrounded by the same old crowd, I fought hard to remember every ones name, but only a few came to mind. The most memorable of the bunch was Crawford Stillwel, a short black haired human who fancied himself a blacksmith. Crawford often boasted how he could make just about anything from steel, but I had yet to see anything crafted by the emerald eyed glutton. He was a wise cracking son of a bitch, who always found the need to sit way to close for comfort. His hot breath stunk of something awful tonight though, it burnt the image of a neglected corpse in my mind. Besides Crawford there was a handful of folks here that I had the pleasure of dealing with before. From a hooker named Alyssa too the young mage named Fenris, they were all pretty nice people. For the most part I enjoyed the Peaceful Promenade's patrons, with the exception of Crawford and his unique case of halitosis.
Every moon lit night brought a sea of new faces and usually they all had the same frame of mind. They either were embarking on, what they proclaimed, would be an adventure resulting in self discovery or were on their way to Radasanth. I had no desire to return to the big city any time soon. The image of my defeat in the citadel often haunted my mind, humbling the arrogant mage that I once was. During the battle I had been pitted against the mutant Lorenor, a man who had seemingly endless powers. After our fight, and my defeat, the mutant waited for me to heal at the hands of the Ai'Brone. I was surprised when he told me that he had work for me when the time was right, but until then I found myself here, in the dull town of Underwood, living life one mug at a time.
"What'll you have Derrick?" I turned to see the featureless face of the bartender, Pat, who was occupied rubbing dust from the brim of a mug. He was a homely fellow, nothing to spectacular came to mind when his name was mentioned, I guess that made him unique in his own way though.
"Ah you know me, I'll just have the regular." I replied, tilting my head slightly, motioning to the barrels of ale just behind him. It was actually quite pathetic that I was on a first name basis with a bartender in Underwood. I was starting to get the feeling that I was losing my edge. It felt like I was falling back into my old patterns of drinking and solicitation.
"I hate to intrude Derrick, but you don't seem to be as chipper as usual. What's the problem pal?" The tone of his voice hinted concern but I didn't really feel like putting my problems out there. Not to mention I had the heavy, stink filled grunts of Crawford creeping over my left shoulder and climbing into my nostrils.
"You wouldn't understand man." I retorted, knowing that I was incorrect. In reality Pat had spent more time counseling than most registered psychologists. "I'd rather just drink my problems away anyway."
Pat shrugged and slid me a mug of ale. I looked down to see foam barely emerging from it's brim and took a second to stir it with my index finger. I licked the moist remains of foam from my finger while listening to Pat reply with his parting words, "well champ I'll be here all night, so don't hesitate to ask for anything. Not to mention first rounds on the house!"
As I sipped from my mug the bar around me grew darker. It reminded me of the haunting feeling that was tugging at my torso. The feeling of lonliess and failure, one that wouldn't be easily shaken off.
The Peaceful Promenade, a tranquil bar residing in the heart of Underwood. A place known as much for its dull nights as the watered down ale they served. Since my arrival to the remote town I felt as if I was visiting the tavern more frequently. I even carried it's foul stench everywhere with me, a smell made up of sweat, smoke, and stale liquor. To my luck though the small studio I was renting out had a bath tub, but sadly in the past few days I lacked the physical drive to use it. I had spent the last few nights in a liquor induced state of comatose and the past several days hanging loosely from my regular stool at the bar, drinking my problems away. It wasn't the ideal lifestyle for a wandering mage like myself, but until tonight I had been content.
Usually I found myself surrounded by the same old crowd, I fought hard to remember every ones name, but only a few came to mind. The most memorable of the bunch was Crawford Stillwel, a short black haired human who fancied himself a blacksmith. Crawford often boasted how he could make just about anything from steel, but I had yet to see anything crafted by the emerald eyed glutton. He was a wise cracking son of a bitch, who always found the need to sit way to close for comfort. His hot breath stunk of something awful tonight though, it burnt the image of a neglected corpse in my mind. Besides Crawford there was a handful of folks here that I had the pleasure of dealing with before. From a hooker named Alyssa too the young mage named Fenris, they were all pretty nice people. For the most part I enjoyed the Peaceful Promenade's patrons, with the exception of Crawford and his unique case of halitosis.
Every moon lit night brought a sea of new faces and usually they all had the same frame of mind. They either were embarking on, what they proclaimed, would be an adventure resulting in self discovery or were on their way to Radasanth. I had no desire to return to the big city any time soon. The image of my defeat in the citadel often haunted my mind, humbling the arrogant mage that I once was. During the battle I had been pitted against the mutant Lorenor, a man who had seemingly endless powers. After our fight, and my defeat, the mutant waited for me to heal at the hands of the Ai'Brone. I was surprised when he told me that he had work for me when the time was right, but until then I found myself here, in the dull town of Underwood, living life one mug at a time.
"What'll you have Derrick?" I turned to see the featureless face of the bartender, Pat, who was occupied rubbing dust from the brim of a mug. He was a homely fellow, nothing to spectacular came to mind when his name was mentioned, I guess that made him unique in his own way though.
"Ah you know me, I'll just have the regular." I replied, tilting my head slightly, motioning to the barrels of ale just behind him. It was actually quite pathetic that I was on a first name basis with a bartender in Underwood. I was starting to get the feeling that I was losing my edge. It felt like I was falling back into my old patterns of drinking and solicitation.
"I hate to intrude Derrick, but you don't seem to be as chipper as usual. What's the problem pal?" The tone of his voice hinted concern but I didn't really feel like putting my problems out there. Not to mention I had the heavy, stink filled grunts of Crawford creeping over my left shoulder and climbing into my nostrils.
"You wouldn't understand man." I retorted, knowing that I was incorrect. In reality Pat had spent more time counseling than most registered psychologists. "I'd rather just drink my problems away anyway."
Pat shrugged and slid me a mug of ale. I looked down to see foam barely emerging from it's brim and took a second to stir it with my index finger. I licked the moist remains of foam from my finger while listening to Pat reply with his parting words, "well champ I'll be here all night, so don't hesitate to ask for anything. Not to mention first rounds on the house!"
As I sipped from my mug the bar around me grew darker. It reminded me of the haunting feeling that was tugging at my torso. The feeling of lonliess and failure, one that wouldn't be easily shaken off.