Time: Morning 10 AM
Location:Ironhold Gakhumi’s Tavern
Interaction: @Helo Bowyn & @Potter Rue
Equipment: basic travel pack, medical pack, foot soldier armor, foot soldier shield and weapons. 800 Amas
Mead trickled down the young corporal’s throat as he remembered the events of his meeting with the dwarven king. He had never even met the general of his battalion as a lowly medic, so he was glad for the stoic training that allowed all dwarves to be able to face down a horde of charging orcs as if their faces were cut from the mountain that held their beloved Ironhold. The air in the small council chamber he had met the king and just three other people, had been so heavy that it could have converted coal into diamonds.
The poor medic had heard carefully the quick back story as to how he was blood related to the imposing king. His eyes had widened at the indiscretion of his otherwise saintly mother. It was hard for him to believe that somebody as pure as the woman who had raised him had committed such a faux pas. Verna must have really loved the king to do something so scandalous.
Arn held his father, (step father) in much higher esteem. Not once had any differing attitude towards him when growing up. Even now, as they prepared to have a little girl, Thur had shown him nothing but love and kindness as if the young corporal had come from his own seed. It was actually because of his urging that he had come to Ironhold in the first place.
While the young dwarf had seen the broadcast like many other, it had not felt personal. He was only a nameless cog in the war machine. He knew that the army would mobilize which is why he had taken some leave to come home and tell his parents he would aid in the war effort by reenlisting. Thur of course had been proud and Verna had been the worried mother.
In comparison, the king had shown no concern or care for the young medic’s feelings. He was briefed what was necessary and then assigned a mission. This did not feel like a family reveal but rather a suicide mission. He had been given all the responsibility of all of a sudden belonging to the royal family without the benefits as he was ordered to not reveal his parentage to any other than Lady Annya herself.
There was another groan that escaped the soldier as he sat there drinking his mead. He was not drinking it to forget as he was to immediately embark on his new mission, but rather, it was to aid him in his deliberation. He had to come up with a plan. He always came up with a plan. War had already been declared and sealed in blood.
There was no hope of negotiation. I had been lack of communication that had led to such an act. Perhaps if he managed to somehow find, and join Princess Annya, he could steer her into a more peaceful approach. But he knew that this would be like trying to dam a raging river with sticks at first. It was clear that sadness, turned to rage and rage to death. Often the death of peace and joy inside a person. Even when that blood debt should be paid, there is only emptiness that remains.
Again the young corporal groaned as he knew the long hard road in front of him. Yet, like any forced march, all one could do was keep their head down and put one foot in front of the other. He was about to take another swig of his mead when some one bumped his arm causing it to spill. The young dwarf promptly up righted his tankard and looked at the stumbling person who promptly sat in the seat across from him.
His medic eyes immediately registered the man to be completely inebriated but something in his pupils told the trained dwarf that perhaps there was something else in side the man’s system .There was a sadness in the man’s eyes that mixed with, probably a mind altering, substance. The slurred speech produced nothing but drunken nonsense. Or was it nonsense? Apparently, he had heard Arn ponder out loud. There was a saying amongst dwarves that children and drunken men tell no lies.
The man had a point, the light elves had been the leaders in dishing out reparations in the last war, or so he had heard. The rest of the races were content to rebuild and did not want any of the nasty trouble of the aftermath. Much death had happened on both sides but perhaps the light elves felt the dark elves had not paid enough of penitence.
The young corporal after a few seconds of scrutiny produced a wide smile. Though the man looked rough and the worse for wear, there seemed to be no malice in the icy blue eyes. “Hail there friend. You offer some sage advice. Though I feel that we can’t place all blame on the light elves. You are correct in your assumption that I am geared for battle.” He looked at his own mug which was emptying. While he did not want the man to get alcohol poisoning, he also knew that he was not in any position to convive him otherwise so instead he signaled the bar maiden for another round for the two of them as he continued talking.
“Before I answer your other inquiries, allow me to introduce myself. I am Arn Thurson, medic of the second infantry battalion….” He was still talking when a lady’s voice interrupted him. The dwarf turned to look upon a pretty face with ice blue eyes framed by white hair with purple hints. He swallowed hard at such cutness. “Um Hi…” he said curiously then stood up respectfully and offered the lady his own chair. “I am assuming you two know each other. Please join us.”
The young medic removed his tankard, which the bar tender had just deposited there a few seconds before, from his old spot and moved to a spot on the table between them. Arn waited until the bartender was out of ear shot and then addressed both of them again. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. As I was saying. I am Arn Thurson, a medic.” He turned to the lady, “your friend here was giving me some advice on how one goes about meeting Sun Elf royalty.”
Realizing he was talking to a lady he lowered his head shyly and instead turned to the silver haired lad. “I would very much like to know who I have the pleasure of meeting if you don’t mind.” He gave him a pleasant smile. Then with a meeker tone and smile he half turned to the fairy lass. “Um, and you too miss if possible.”
Location:Ironhold Gakhumi’s Tavern
Interaction: @Helo Bowyn & @Potter Rue
Equipment: basic travel pack, medical pack, foot soldier armor, foot soldier shield and weapons. 800 Amas
Mead trickled down the young corporal’s throat as he remembered the events of his meeting with the dwarven king. He had never even met the general of his battalion as a lowly medic, so he was glad for the stoic training that allowed all dwarves to be able to face down a horde of charging orcs as if their faces were cut from the mountain that held their beloved Ironhold. The air in the small council chamber he had met the king and just three other people, had been so heavy that it could have converted coal into diamonds.
The poor medic had heard carefully the quick back story as to how he was blood related to the imposing king. His eyes had widened at the indiscretion of his otherwise saintly mother. It was hard for him to believe that somebody as pure as the woman who had raised him had committed such a faux pas. Verna must have really loved the king to do something so scandalous.
Arn held his father, (step father) in much higher esteem. Not once had any differing attitude towards him when growing up. Even now, as they prepared to have a little girl, Thur had shown him nothing but love and kindness as if the young corporal had come from his own seed. It was actually because of his urging that he had come to Ironhold in the first place.
While the young dwarf had seen the broadcast like many other, it had not felt personal. He was only a nameless cog in the war machine. He knew that the army would mobilize which is why he had taken some leave to come home and tell his parents he would aid in the war effort by reenlisting. Thur of course had been proud and Verna had been the worried mother.
In comparison, the king had shown no concern or care for the young medic’s feelings. He was briefed what was necessary and then assigned a mission. This did not feel like a family reveal but rather a suicide mission. He had been given all the responsibility of all of a sudden belonging to the royal family without the benefits as he was ordered to not reveal his parentage to any other than Lady Annya herself.
There was another groan that escaped the soldier as he sat there drinking his mead. He was not drinking it to forget as he was to immediately embark on his new mission, but rather, it was to aid him in his deliberation. He had to come up with a plan. He always came up with a plan. War had already been declared and sealed in blood.
There was no hope of negotiation. I had been lack of communication that had led to such an act. Perhaps if he managed to somehow find, and join Princess Annya, he could steer her into a more peaceful approach. But he knew that this would be like trying to dam a raging river with sticks at first. It was clear that sadness, turned to rage and rage to death. Often the death of peace and joy inside a person. Even when that blood debt should be paid, there is only emptiness that remains.
Again the young corporal groaned as he knew the long hard road in front of him. Yet, like any forced march, all one could do was keep their head down and put one foot in front of the other. He was about to take another swig of his mead when some one bumped his arm causing it to spill. The young dwarf promptly up righted his tankard and looked at the stumbling person who promptly sat in the seat across from him.
His medic eyes immediately registered the man to be completely inebriated but something in his pupils told the trained dwarf that perhaps there was something else in side the man’s system .There was a sadness in the man’s eyes that mixed with, probably a mind altering, substance. The slurred speech produced nothing but drunken nonsense. Or was it nonsense? Apparently, he had heard Arn ponder out loud. There was a saying amongst dwarves that children and drunken men tell no lies.
The man had a point, the light elves had been the leaders in dishing out reparations in the last war, or so he had heard. The rest of the races were content to rebuild and did not want any of the nasty trouble of the aftermath. Much death had happened on both sides but perhaps the light elves felt the dark elves had not paid enough of penitence.
The young corporal after a few seconds of scrutiny produced a wide smile. Though the man looked rough and the worse for wear, there seemed to be no malice in the icy blue eyes. “Hail there friend. You offer some sage advice. Though I feel that we can’t place all blame on the light elves. You are correct in your assumption that I am geared for battle.” He looked at his own mug which was emptying. While he did not want the man to get alcohol poisoning, he also knew that he was not in any position to convive him otherwise so instead he signaled the bar maiden for another round for the two of them as he continued talking.
“Before I answer your other inquiries, allow me to introduce myself. I am Arn Thurson, medic of the second infantry battalion….” He was still talking when a lady’s voice interrupted him. The dwarf turned to look upon a pretty face with ice blue eyes framed by white hair with purple hints. He swallowed hard at such cutness. “Um Hi…” he said curiously then stood up respectfully and offered the lady his own chair. “I am assuming you two know each other. Please join us.”
The young medic removed his tankard, which the bar tender had just deposited there a few seconds before, from his old spot and moved to a spot on the table between them. Arn waited until the bartender was out of ear shot and then addressed both of them again. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. As I was saying. I am Arn Thurson, a medic.” He turned to the lady, “your friend here was giving me some advice on how one goes about meeting Sun Elf royalty.”
Realizing he was talking to a lady he lowered his head shyly and instead turned to the silver haired lad. “I would very much like to know who I have the pleasure of meeting if you don’t mind.” He gave him a pleasant smile. Then with a meeker tone and smile he half turned to the fairy lass. “Um, and you too miss if possible.”