asmorrey1

will the king be looking for labourers for any projects? Just a poor man here looking for honest work

enjoying this a lot friend

Excellent, I will be looking forward to meeting you in person and sharing a good drink or two

Thank you for the kind words in return. My name is Ibram Gaunt, I have only ever met very few of your kind, I was brought up on a small farm you see. If you ever find yourself in Oren during your travels it would be a pleasure to meet. As I said I know little about your race and yearn for Tales of your fair city!

It is true what they say yours is a beautiful and noble race. It is an honour to meet you sir

It is good to meet you Locke, it does my heart good to see such humans of good standing. Our nation is truly a glorious one.

I'm just sick of that elf who is running around threatening to assassinate everybody. He is making so many enemies he is going to have to watch his own back! He can handle his drink well though

It is good to meet other humans, may we do ourselves honour. The world will envy our riches and architecture, our women and our wine!

I apologise, I speak out of turn and force my company upon you. I shall retire and rest. I have a long journey ahead of me

Be wary of this Elf brother. I have never met one before but I know these Elves move in mysterious ways. I don't think he understands that we are not all the same. With his prejudice against us he is widening the gap between our races...

Thank you old man. You are the first friendly person I have met in this land. They truly were evil men. The GodKing was watching over me this night *crosses arms against chest, open hands fingers together to ward off bad spirits*. I am afraid I am not familiar with these lands. I shall be staying here at this inn till I get my bearings. I would be happy to share a flagon of ale or some such if you would be willing to give a stranger some company?

OOC haha got to love the overly aggressive chat and then the wonderfully friendly offer afterwards.

"Most powerful and glorious King, He who commands the winds and seas, We men are adrift in peril, We cry unto Thee for guidance, May thee grant me good grace this day, Let my feet be swift, lest I fall on the path to righteousness, Let my eyes be keen so I may always see my way, In body and in spirit, Let my mind always be ready, So that I may know my enemy, Let my hand be quick, So that I may defeat my enemy, Watch over me this day, and give me chance to prove myself in thine eyes, So let me not die in the evil that surrounds me this day." -The prayer for lost souls. An extract from Rex Devinus. The outlawed religion that hails the King as divine. I say this prayer to myself over and over again as I run along the muddy path. The warm summer sun of the day before had turned to pouring rain. Lighting strikes nearby and the silhouetted form of a building up ahead gives me hope. Two, no three are chasing me. At least I think it's three. Only two challenged me at the river crossing, the grand sword on my back too tempting for these petty thieves. I can't see them now, I can only just hear their hurried footfalls and cries to each other through the rain. An arrow emerges from the darkness and grazes my arm. I cry out in pain, for a moment losing concentration, my foot slips in the slimey mud. I stumble but steady myself against a boulder by the road. I pause momentarily aware that every second is precious. There must be at least three of them. Neither of the two I saw carried a bow. I steel myself against the throbbing pain in my arm and set off at a run towards where I guess the building is. The rain and darkness is confusing. I can't hear my enemies, I slow to a halt and stare into the darkness. Where is that building?! Another flash of lightning, I see the building just 50 yards ahead, but to my horror not 10 yards away I see him. About 6 feet tall with a thick mane of a beard. Water dripping down onto his mucky steel chest plate. A flayed skull hangs at his waist. This is no petty thief, this is a raider of the Wilds! I try to duck down out of sight. Too late, his evil white eyes open wide and his lips part to reveal two rows of sharpened teeth. He slowly advances towards me. I begin to panick. Why had I never learnt to fight with this damned sword? There was no time to learn when the harvest needed collecting. I unsheathe the sword and hold it awkwardly. He laughs at me, laughs at me! He knows I don't know what i'm doing. He continues his advance twirling his blade in his hands, a mocking sneer across his face. I am ashamed of myself but i'm shaking with fear. He is close now. I can see the scarring on his face. There is no good in those eyes. He snarls at me in a tongue I don't understand. Fearing for my life I charge forward in desperation, swinging my sword wildly I miss. The unfamiliar weight of the sword throwing me off balance. Just as the raider slashes at my throat I lose my footing again in the mud and land on the floor with a smack between the raiders legs. His eyes widen in surprise, and then through pain as my sword pierces is groin. I thrust upwards more through instinct than through skill. I feel his warm blood splash against my face. He falls with a cry, and I get up as quickly as possible. I run towards the building. I spy a sign above the door 'the kings arms'. I turn one last time to see the other two raiders at the body of their comrade. With that I turn back and quickly enter the inn. Inside i'm fixed with 40 baffled stares as I stand at the entrance, sword in hand. Water dripping from my lank hair and clothes. 'You 'ad better put tha away lad, wouldn't wana hurt yurself now would yee?' The bartenders words are met with laughter by the punters, and my presence is swiftly forgotten. Later in my room I sit alone. I have never taken a man's life. Even though he wanted to kill me... I still feel terrible. Taking life wasn't as noble and as heroic as I thought it would be....

Thankyou! I hope to update it now and then after I have met people in game oh i guess this isn't in character... but it's hard when we haven't met each other properly yet!

Mid August. Morning I feel the warm summer sun on my face. I close my eyes and take a long slow breath. A warm wind blows, it rustles the leaves of the tree by which I stand. A few leaves fall and they are picked up and thrown around in the wind as if it's playing with them. Round and round they swirl. I follow their path with my eyes, I'm standing on a small hill next to my families farm and I look out to see the golden fields of wheat. The wheat sways as the wind moves across, flowing waves of motion cover the field. The sun glints from the cool waters of the river that runs through our land. My eyes follow it's meandering course till they meet the small thatched roof of my childhood home. Mother would normally be serving up dinner now. One of her famous broths or delicious pies. A smile plays across my lips for the briefest of moments, sweet memories filling my mind. A tear forms and rolls down my cheek. I curse myself for such weakness and move towards the shovel, laying on the ground. I pick it up and pack down the earth of my mothers fresh grave. She had been so weak at the end... when once so full of life. I could still not believe how life could so quickly be taken away. The Apothecary had called it consumption, I don't care what it was. It had taken her away from me, and now I have no one in the world. I had carved her a simple grave stone but had not known what to add. What would it say? Maybe, 'here lies Elizabeth Gaunt, widow to the betrayed Noble Sigismund Gaunt, she leaves behind her only son Ibram'. I couldn't write that, I couldn't leave any trace of my fathers betrayal. I couldn't put 21 years of love down in one sentence. I had to leave this place. Too many painful memories. I layed the shovel backdown and made my way back to the farmhouse. I have a plan. I will leave this place and never come back. I will take my fathers sword and travel to the capital. I don't know what I'll do when I get there...but I know I must regain the honour of my family...