The First Step

[Calaelen]

~ ~ ~Scara Brae~ ~ ~

The waning moon’s light drifted through the placid cloud cover, reflected off puddles of fresh rainfall, and finally found the honey eyes of the young noble. The winds of the shifting season cavorted across the damp cityscape and picked up small pieces of paper. The falling day had brought a heavy rain that slowly dwindled to a mere drizzle by the time the sun had fallen. The air still held the distinct tang of fresh rainfall, the thick humidity, and the lingering after affects of a city washed of its material faults.

Outside the inn the young noble of Salvar crossed his arms, his arms acting as shields against the post-storm’s trivial breeze. His lazy eyes rested on the mercury pools, his breath was pulled and released with a carefully calmness. A hand removed itself from its restrain and cautiously tucked a loose strand of chestnut hair back behind a peaked ear. The hand traced the strong jaw till it rubbed at a sleek chin and was tucked back between the arm and chest.

“You alright out there, boy?” The voice was somewhat gruff, carried on an edge of caution. Terriance turned towards the inn-keep slowly, his eyes scanning the darkness and the shadows. When he finally came to the man the inn-keep diverted his eyes, yet continued facing the young man. A soft sigh passed the deep cherry lips of young noble, uninterested in the respect of a single barkeep amidst a city of disrespectful citizens. “Your food’s ready, sir.”

Terriance allowed his sight to linger on the older man, head bowed like a disdainful servant. The respect was being shown, but the true meaning of it was lost. With a slight shrug the noble turned away from the man, allowing him to return to a position of comfort instead of forced respect. “Yes, yes, that shall be fine. I will be in shortly.”

A mumble was the sole response from the man, a mumble that went unheard by Terriance. The shifting shadows cast by the streetlights flickered at the ebb and wane of the breeze. Terriance amusedly watched as people scampered about, rough scoundrels of the shadowed alleyways and decrepit houses. Salvar, the young noble’s origin, held nearly no beggars due to the climate. There was always work to be had in a small estate with the harsh winter climate.

“Sturdy beggars,” Terriance muttered as he took a precarious seat on the edge of the window. The heat of the tavern’s common room emanated so richly that it warmed the young man’s back. Too the light seeped through the condensation covered window, spreading an amber light around the still form of the noble. A small cloud crossed the waning moon, momentarily allowing the light that spilt around Terriance to be the dominant light on the quiet street.


((Unfortunately this is a closed thread. If you are interested, please, please contact me as soon as possible and I we can think of a way to write you in. Thank you very much.))

[He'll Scream]

The orchestra of the night echoed softly into the cool air. Crickets, frogs and owls alike sang peacefully into the night. The air was crisp, cool, moist from the recent rainfall. The sky was bright with stars and the full moon illuminated the damp cobblestone streets like a candy wrapper. A gentle breeze from the east brought with it the scent of a fresh pot roast and sweet corn. Huey's mouth began to fill with saliva as he welcomed the scent into his nostrils. This unfortunately reminded him of the hollow stomache he at this moment possesed. He had only just escaped the Institute and possesed no money, nor anything to trade. Knowing that starvation was not a pleasent experience, Huey began to rummage through the trash ben just outside the inn's side door. He managed to find at least a few edible substances. A moldy peice of bread and a half eaten apple. He cringed as he sank his teeth into the bread and tore at it with his teeth. He fought back the vomet and swallowed. The bread plopped into his stomache like a rock into a fully drawn bath.

Huey sighed deeply as his thoughts wandered back to that succulant pot roast. He wiped the damp window clean of dropletts and peared into the inn. A soft orange glow lit up the entire dinning room. There were simple acomidations, wooden furniture, a lantern on each table, but even these simple pleasures were but a fantasy to Huey. He felt a lump form in his throat, which was followed by a watering in his eyes. He quickly turned away from the window and held his eyes shut, fighting back the tears. If only he hadn't been born this way. If only he could have been normal. He clenched his fist tight and drove it into the lid of the garbage can. This only served to make him more frustrated, for he could nto even let out a shout to relieve his stress and anguish.

Huey began to walk rather quickly around towards the front of the inn. His head hung low, his hands in his pockets, he rounded the building. Unfortunately he quickly learned to watch where he was going, when he bumbped into a silouet figure, leaning against the inn's front window. Knocking himself off balance, Huey fell to the ground and splashed right into a puddle, which sent his glasses flying. Huey's heart instantly filled with terror, who had he bumped into? Could it have been a commoner? Or was it a noble? Or even a hired killer! He began to search franticly for his glasses, wimpering like a beaten dog. He began to appologize to whoever he had hit, taking great care not to raise his voice above a whisper.

" I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't m-m-mean to. P-Please, don't hurt m-me. " He continued to feel about for his glasses, even as his jacket began to absorb the cold water from the ground. He didn't care, he just wanted to get out of there.

[Calaelen]

While resting against the windowsill, the young noble began to allow his mind to wander. It was a frequent occurrence with Terriance, who enjoyed all types of sciences and schools of thought barely delved into by the rather brusque world of Althanas. His soft eyes inquisitively outlined the closely spaced townhouses and shops (most of which with a second story house). The architecture of the building of Scara Brae, and those too of all of Althanas, was always a rather interesting topic and course of study. Terriance was very interested in the difference between human cultures and the way the culture and atmosphere of the civilization in turn influenced the buildings.

His ponderings continued for mere seconds before a trashy looking individual cascaded around the corner, spilling out of the alleyway. Before Terriance could properly respond the boy had struck him, running square into the side of the young noble and falling to the paved road. The young noble had enough time to stand and throw his hands up, wondering who the man was. “Alley trash,” he thought as he stepped away from the boy, his soft leather boots tapped against the cold cobblestones.

The light that the young noble had been blocking burst brightly as he shifted away from the window. Enough light was shinning to be able to get a rather quick look over the scrambling young man. The first thing that the noble noticed was the boy’s golden-blonde hair, which was in a state of disarray that was nearly impressive. Next was his voice, which was barely audible with the backdrop of jovial singing.

“It is no worry, dear boy,” Terriance responded. He was used to calling other’s boy, be they younger than him or equal to him. More wanted to come as a response, but he held back and watched instead. Something tugged at his heart, which was not often tugged at, and he had an odd sensation of want. He wanted to give the boy something, hope, food, maybe his glasses? Terriance was not sure.

The young noble scooped up the black framed glasses, reaching down towards the man and offering them back. “Are you fine? I fear that you rounded the corner rather quickly. I may not be the biggest of men, and not exactly a wall, but I am certainly heavy enough to catch some off-guard,” the noble said with a laugh. A hand brushed dust or dirt; he was not sure, off the shoulder of his green coat as he laughed. It was good to laugh.

“Say,” he continued quickly, not giving the insecure boy much room to speak. “Would you enjoy a warm meal? I am sure that you could use one, no offense intended. And we could talk a bit; I could use a strong individual from time to time.” Terriance was appalled by the number of sturdy beggars that roamed the night streets of Scara Brae. The boy was no exception.

While he waited he pondered, thought coming almost as soon as he finished speaking. What would the nobles in the common inn think? What would they say? Could the boy even be that much help in the mission that he was on? The questions were pressing, but none of them sunk very deep into the young man. If he was going to be an assertive noble one day he would need to make decisions that he would have to defend against other’s questioning… it was as good a night as any to begin that trend.

[He'll Scream]

Huey's heart ceased it's spiratic fluctuation and calmed itself. The man's voice was strong, yet Huey could not hear any anger in his voice. His pitch too high, his voice too airy, no this man was not upset, rather was showing kindness, something Huey had yet to experience in the outside world.

The man offered Huey his glasses and Huey took them, his hands still shaking as he did so. He place them once again on the bridge of his nose. He brought himself up off of the ground, water dripping from his scarf as he did so.

Huey looked to the man to see who would offer such a kind word. However Huey could not see past the murky water that clung to the lenses of his glasses. Embarrassed, he removed them rather abruptly and wiped them off on the sleeve of his jacket. Putting the on once again he looked back at the man, who was obviously a noble. He was dressed very fine clothing, very expensive-looking.

Huey paid careful attention not to look the man in the eye, not out of common courtesy, but out of fear. Huey had only been comfortable around one person other than himself in his life. At least as far back as he could remember. Unfortunately his memories did not stretch beyond the institute.

Suprisingly enough, the man offered Huey dinner. He was unsure of the man's intentions, but his stomache cried out in pain, and Huey could ignore his hunger no longer. He nodded in acceptance, and waited for the man to lead him in.

[Calaelen]

Terriance turned with an over-emphasized toss of his coat. He could feel the eyes of the younger man on his back, waiting. With another placid gust the door was tossed aside, allowing the warmth of the common room to seep from its static state. The light that accompanied it was too sudden, though very welcome to the hazel eyes of the young noble.

“Terriance m’boy!” The young noble glanced up with a placid smile. Taking up half of the room was the party that he was supposed to be venturing out with in the morning. The group was rough around the edges with a center far too soft. Five other nobles, minor men among the small island, were drinking and eating profusely. The men held mugs of ale in their hands and a cherry cheeked grin on their faces. The table before the few men was littered with half-eaten meats, random bones, and not a single piece of silverware to be noted. “We’ve been waitin’ for ye!”

The voice of the man caused the young noble to cringe. He was a farmer or merchant of some sort that had been “blessed by the gods” as the saying went. Terriance was not one to believe in the gods, much less their interference in the perfectly suitable caste system that was prevalent in Scara Brae. No matter what wealth the lucky farmer may have acquired, in the present or future, his position outside the small island would always be lower than a true noble.

“Dear Rick, one moment,” Terriance spat with a touch less polish than average. When the man had consumed alcohol well beyond the acceptable limit he was perfectly amiable, and had no way of noting the difference in tone. Twice Terriance had found himself under a shadow of intimidation the backwater farmer had attempted to cast; twice the young noble had fended the intimidation off with a mere dismissal. Young though he may have been Terriance was far from helpless.

Quickly the young noble scanned the room. In the corners were men, still as statues. They rested their hands on the pommel of their curved blades, allowing the tip of the scimitars to touch the tough wooden floors. The bodyguards were for the young, quiet lord Daerick III… a present from his father in Fallien. Terriance took only a second to note the five, wondered about the other five, and then continued to look over the jovial room.

“Come sit with me,” he told the young man from outside. Without waiting for a mumbled response the young noble pulled out a small chair and took his seat. He was very near the table of nobles, but far enough away to have the decency of not smelling Rick. The table was no different than the rest of the inn, an old polish scuffed with the wear of years.

“Madame,” he called as the woman waiting on them passed by. Her ample rolls turned over on themselves as she spun around. Her rosy cheeks were split by a terrible smirk. “Please bring me my food, and whatever the young man will be having.”

“Tell me a little about you,” Terriance said after waiting for the quiet boy to order something. The young noble sighed and reclined slightly, remaining near perfect posture but doing so comfortably.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.