The River City from Above

[StingyParrot 1595]

Spoiler

 

 

Capric awoke to fire. Choking, searing fire, running through his veins, coating his skin - forcing its way into his eyes. Then, he was standing outside the Reinhold manor, watching it burn before his eyes, just as his other home had. He fell to his knees, watching, burning still. Not real. He told himself. But it seemed real, very real - at least the pain did. He watched for a time as the manor collapsed and crumbled and turned to blackened ash, which blew away on a ghostly wind. And then so did he, and he left that familiar dream once more.

 

Somewhere else, Capric Reinhold would wake, his covers tangled and his pillow abandoned to the floor. Weary as he often felt in the morning, he rearranged his bed and folded the covers. Slowly, and quietly, he left his room, moving past the dead fireplace, past the empty armchairs standing their vigil of the bookshelves around them, and down the stairs, past portraits of people - some known to him, others not. Then slipping into the kitchen and toasting half of a croissant over the stove - Atticus wouldn't mind, so long as he cleaned up, which he did. Smearing butter on the pastry, he drops it into a paper bag and slips that into his pack, a minimal thing of sturdy leather and iron buckles. Capric slung his pack over his shoulder as he stepped into the foyer, and out into the courtyard, taking a few deep, bracing breaths of the sharp morning air. Now was his favourite time of day - just before the sun made its appearance, yet after night had fled.

 

From there, it was a quick scramble up the western wall, and a climb onto the wooden-roofed walkway that surrounded Vallagne. And from there, a hop over to the Fleur-de-Lys inn's roof, his boots tap-tap-tapping against the tile as he ran lightly along it, an element of haste entering his bearing as he moved. Onto the clinic's roof, then - he made sure to move with a little more stealth, so as not to disturb any patients - then Capric would gather himself and leap from it to the black roof of the church. rolling to absorb the impact and sending a small shower of dust onto the street below as he scrambled up the steep roof, making his careful way to the front of the building.

 

He sat, laying his pack beside him, and took in the sight of Vallagne's square - the newly-erected statue, the ever-present bonfire and the marketplace, its stalls currently unmanned. The city's bustle had died down over the night, giving way to the rustling of the trees below him and the sharp shouts from the castle barracks as the guard was roused and the night watch replaced. He didn't mind the light fall of snow so much, thanks to the still-warm croissant he was nibbling on, and also due to the magical fabric sewn into his garb. As he ate, he watched the city come to life slowly, first with the tavern's opening its doors, then with the sound of the gates creaking open. Voices began to drown out the birds, and as Capric finished his pastry, he saw the first few visitors stream in through the northern gate.

 

Capric stood, and made his way back to the manor, wandering in through the front door just as its occupants began to rise. They'd find him sitting quietly on the couch, playing with the pet bird. Sure, it was a simple routine, but it was a routine nonetheless, and despite having done so nearly hundreds of times before, Capric thought it was a good way to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. As he heard the other members of House Reinhold making their way down the stairs, he did hope that they wouldn't make too much of a thing about it.

[MrMojoMordor 2413]

Bon'Ox had been awake - doing one of his early morning missive collections by the notice board.
As the young Capric's shadow flashed over briefly from the leap onto the Church, the goblin shakes his fist holding the rolled up missives towards the Young Reinhold & mutter's something about 'Kubz theze daiz.'

Edited January 7, 2025 by MrMojoMordor

[Hom 1987]

Atticus stifles a yawn as he descends into the living room, and spots a familiar sight- Capric, already well awake, and returned from his morning training. It was routine for him too, to see the boy up and about an hour or two before even he stepped out to open the bookshop. Not quite a boy anymore, he supposes, as he shifts his mug of tea into the opposite hand with a smile. As he passes the younger Reinhold, he reaches out to briefly ruffle his hair. “Happy birthday, Capric.”

[tilly 5115]

"Hey! Get down from there!" Upon seeing the little figure skitter from roof to roof, Commandant Sorrel Auclair, with recruits of the Swords of Saint Emma, hollered at Capric. "That's dangerous, and illegal!"