Alister
03-03-10, 03:10 PM
Closed
Smoke drifted smoothly upwards from Crawford's cigarette, only to get dragged off by the cooling touch of the humid air. As the white wisp floated further out of sight, it began to separate in many directions. It was almost symbolic to Alister Cain, as he prodded the wood floor of the Crawford's wagon constantly with his emerald tipped cane. The smoke reminded him of his own emotional battle that was being fought within the depths of his body. One that rooted from the hard choice between a life of heroism, or one of villainous acts.
For the thirty seven years that the frail wizard had been on Althanas, he had still not decided on a path. A walkway that would one day lead him to or away from eternity in the Great Nether. It didn't scare the wizard, hardly anything did anymore after the events leading to this particular humid spring afternoon. To the wizard the Great Nether was a fictional aspect, a place created and spoken of to mold young children into a generation of god-fearing adults. Alister would much sooner laugh in the face of a god, than bow to it-
At least thats what he thought, before this particular spring afternoon.
"Want a drag?" Alister's thought process was disrupted by the long monkey arm of Crawford, who was extending the final puff of his well spent cigarette. Alister probably would've taken him up on the offer if it weren't for the brim of saliva that coated the filtered end.
"No I'll pass." He replied, watching the wagon conductor shrug and intake the remaining smoke. "When do you think we'll arrive to Scara Brae. I've seen enough damn farms to last a lifetime."
The ride from Brokenthorn had been bumpy to say the least. The worn road had been foreign to travellers in the winter months, but was now beginning to bustle again with a steady flow of traffic. All along the dusty trail were farms, filled with working men and women who were preparing for the harvest season ahead. It took Alister back to the days he spent in the Countryside of Corone. Back when he had a purpose, a goal.
"A hour, less if these damn horses would quick being so spooked." Crawford paused to examine the pale complexion of the wrinkle faced wizard, "they act almost like they seen a ghost."
It was no mistake to Alister that he had came out of Brokenthorn a different man. He now wore rather ghoulish qualities, but for good purpose. He had come to find out so much about himself under the dark canopy. The realization that he was useless and purposeless left an intense sting on the wizard's self conscious. It was almost haunting for the middle aged man.
"So you never told me how the trip was, let alone how you survived." The conductors's statement hinted that he wanted answers. Not many people had entered the woods alone lately and lived to tell the tale.
Alister began to explain how he encountered his two companions, Jothem Archanex and William Arcus. He spoke of how they had not only managed to squash a horse of bandits like insects, but also deal death to various other creatures. What Alister didn't include was how he had felt helpless to the party. William was a wild warrior, well versed in butchering opponents at close range, which made him a great asset to any group. Jothem on the other hand was a gifted fighter, but he mixed his skills with magic- giving him a great deal of prowess. Alister on the other hand, was a hobble footed wizard, hardly capable of dispatching even the weakest of foes by himself. He had no true melee talents, his spells were far below lethal status, and his speed was exceptionally sluggish.
During his story of survival the wizard must have lost track of time, because the walls of Scara Brae were now closely in sight. He had never felt more rejoiced to be returning to the humble city. Despite it not being his birth place, Scara Brae was now his home, and he had much work to do.
Smoke drifted smoothly upwards from Crawford's cigarette, only to get dragged off by the cooling touch of the humid air. As the white wisp floated further out of sight, it began to separate in many directions. It was almost symbolic to Alister Cain, as he prodded the wood floor of the Crawford's wagon constantly with his emerald tipped cane. The smoke reminded him of his own emotional battle that was being fought within the depths of his body. One that rooted from the hard choice between a life of heroism, or one of villainous acts.
For the thirty seven years that the frail wizard had been on Althanas, he had still not decided on a path. A walkway that would one day lead him to or away from eternity in the Great Nether. It didn't scare the wizard, hardly anything did anymore after the events leading to this particular humid spring afternoon. To the wizard the Great Nether was a fictional aspect, a place created and spoken of to mold young children into a generation of god-fearing adults. Alister would much sooner laugh in the face of a god, than bow to it-
At least thats what he thought, before this particular spring afternoon.
"Want a drag?" Alister's thought process was disrupted by the long monkey arm of Crawford, who was extending the final puff of his well spent cigarette. Alister probably would've taken him up on the offer if it weren't for the brim of saliva that coated the filtered end.
"No I'll pass." He replied, watching the wagon conductor shrug and intake the remaining smoke. "When do you think we'll arrive to Scara Brae. I've seen enough damn farms to last a lifetime."
The ride from Brokenthorn had been bumpy to say the least. The worn road had been foreign to travellers in the winter months, but was now beginning to bustle again with a steady flow of traffic. All along the dusty trail were farms, filled with working men and women who were preparing for the harvest season ahead. It took Alister back to the days he spent in the Countryside of Corone. Back when he had a purpose, a goal.
"A hour, less if these damn horses would quick being so spooked." Crawford paused to examine the pale complexion of the wrinkle faced wizard, "they act almost like they seen a ghost."
It was no mistake to Alister that he had came out of Brokenthorn a different man. He now wore rather ghoulish qualities, but for good purpose. He had come to find out so much about himself under the dark canopy. The realization that he was useless and purposeless left an intense sting on the wizard's self conscious. It was almost haunting for the middle aged man.
"So you never told me how the trip was, let alone how you survived." The conductors's statement hinted that he wanted answers. Not many people had entered the woods alone lately and lived to tell the tale.
Alister began to explain how he encountered his two companions, Jothem Archanex and William Arcus. He spoke of how they had not only managed to squash a horse of bandits like insects, but also deal death to various other creatures. What Alister didn't include was how he had felt helpless to the party. William was a wild warrior, well versed in butchering opponents at close range, which made him a great asset to any group. Jothem on the other hand was a gifted fighter, but he mixed his skills with magic- giving him a great deal of prowess. Alister on the other hand, was a hobble footed wizard, hardly capable of dispatching even the weakest of foes by himself. He had no true melee talents, his spells were far below lethal status, and his speed was exceptionally sluggish.
During his story of survival the wizard must have lost track of time, because the walls of Scara Brae were now closely in sight. He had never felt more rejoiced to be returning to the humble city. Despite it not being his birth place, Scara Brae was now his home, and he had much work to do.