~Character History: Grendor H'ghar-Builder~

[Auruphen 14]

Chapter I

 

An owl sat perched upon a, iron bar in the window sleeping. The cool Winter breeze floated in slowly and ran across his bare torso. His pale, light blue skin tensed ever so slightly at the coolness from the air and he began to open his eyes; they were a light shade of blue, similar to his skin and were large. They angled upward, slightly and came to a point towards the outside of his face. His long, pointed noze sniffled and moved his perfectly shaped mouth. His ears poked through his hair and the points were hidden by the fur on which he was sleeping. His blue ear rings dangled freely from the small earlobes and shivered in the breeze.

    He sat up and pulled a fur over his legs as he pushed his bright hair out of his face. He looked over at the black owl, sleeping, hinted at a smile but then frowned. He turned his head to find the round, wooden door wide open. His feet touched the cold stone floor and he retreated back to the warmth of his bed. He wrapped some cloth around his feet and pushed out of the bed, the fur now over his shoulders. As he approached his clothes on the stool by the door, he heard the sound of a lute playing downstairs along with the quaint, soft voice of a woman. Quickly getting dressed into a dirty grey shirt, brown hosen and tall leather boots he turned to the mirror to find a large, red scratch running from his hair line to the adjacent jaw; he frowned again and continued down the wooden stairs.

   The music grew louder as he walked down and found a young man with a flute sitting on a stool accompanied by four slightly older women standing by the hearth, snickering and smiling. The lute was a bright brown, rounded, and had fifteen strings with fingers moving along with ease and grace, creating face paced, rhythmical dances for the women. The man began to sing.

 

Here awakens the old Elf Grendor

Waiting for a woman to knock on his door

He never knows quite what to do

But I can assure you , she won't chose you!

 

The young lute player laughed along with the women as Grendor shoved past them, knocking two of the woman onto the fur carpet and the lute player directly to the stone floor. They all laughed in an uproar of life, except Grendor, who simply kept the same frown and tilted eyebrows, looking past everything through his bright, grey hair.

    Grendor walked out of the wooden front door into the muddy road with the occasional stone patchwork done by the stone mason; the same who had built many of the homes in the Eastern District. Stone homes were signs of large wealth for most of them were pieced together by wood or clay. Though, this never made Grendor satisfied or pleased.

   he continued down the road, bustling with people, merchant's voices in the air, and the cool wind blowing against his Grendor's back, begging him not to go to the Keep.

 

Sealed Note Library  and Book Keeping