Kalleth

Word association Game!

House

Life in a strange realm

Father Yaroslav

CC = #C2FFFB

Yaroslav tripped on a root, most of the way down the mountain, his mind at peace with his decision. As he thrust his arms down to catch himself, he saw the portal and vainly tried to grab the edges, and failed. Falling through a gap in reality, the elderly priest's last thoughts of home were of how God, or Satan, had prevented him from making good on his choice. He felt as though his fall lasted a lifetime...

---

The priest woke up, mercifully, on a pile of bushes. He scanned around his environment and spotted the telltale signs of civilization in the form of rising smoke instantly. He had no clue where he'd landed, or how he'd gotten there in the first place, however Yaroslav was nothing if not cautious. Checking once more for any injuries he might have received, and finding nothing worrisome, he crept off of the pile of bushes and slowly walked towards the smoke.

When he finally came within about fifty paces of the mocked up camp, Yaroslav could not only see several of the newcomers, whom like him had probably arrived here by mysterious means, but he could also see their auras. It had been a gift recently bestowed upon him, and he still didn't have a full sense of what exactly it allowed him to do. He did know that it let him read the auras of others, and transform his own aura. And so, as he approached Yaroslav took in the auras that permeated the camp and reflected on what colour he should tinge his own. He saw lots of pale sickly greens, dark seething blacks, and sizzling yellows that seemed to eat away at him. The mild synesthesia that he experienced with the usage of this strange new power was most disconcerting, especially when others felt those very unpleasant emotions that he himself sensed.

In order to combat the sensations of negative emotion that bombarded him and doubtless bombarded all those who dwelled in the camp, Yaroslav began tinging his aura with a pure energetic red, a calming blue, a scintillating green, and of course just a mild dose of white. Plenty of vitality, assurance, and intrigue, peppered with just a hint of divinity. That cocktail of aura-based influence, though not seen, would most certainly be felt. His work prepared, Yaroslav strode into the camp, his own aura propelling his stride in a peaceful but purposeful manner.

His eyes first fell on a large brutish looking man, with outlandishly green skin, who wore a terribly incongruous chef's hat. He was serving out curry, and at that moment Yaroslav felt his hunger ache in his stomach. The green fellow's aura itself lacked any discernible shade of green for the moment, an ironic point itself. However he was fraught with faded browns, and erratic yellows, which despite Yaroslav's continued amazement at his own ability to do so, told him that the chef was having doubts about leadership.

Yaroslav strode up to the green man, picked up a bowl of curry, and with a broad smile he said, "You look like the man in charge around here. Mind telling me what the situation is here? And I hope you don't mind me sampling this tempting meal you've made either." The priest's voice carried with it a perfect blend of deference to the chef, while also retaining a kind of distance which implied the priest's definite status as a newcomer.

RPGC #16: It Takes Two... - Discussion

While I've already procured a writing partner, this would be the ideal place to put out a request for a writing partner!

Closed

@Kalleth Theoretically, is the course doable without using your element?

@Arya10108909

Life in a strange realm

Man of The Cloth

Father Yaroslav

73

Male

Human

Magic: Aura Control

A kind of spirit magic which grants Yaroslav the following abilities; Aura Manipulation (Self) and Aura Analysis (Others). Life Sense, Magical Analysis/Detection (Minor) and an enhanced healing factor and endurance bolstered by his Aura, are passive benefits given by his two magical abilities.

Aura is one manifestation of the spirit, as a kind of field that covers a living creature, and which can be used to read into that creature's emotional state, nature, and overall state of wellbeing. The Aura field is also linked to psionics, New Age theory, and many theorems of the supernatural, paranormal.

Pairing Yaroslav's abilities together, the priest can manifest weapons constructed from sheer force of will, seemingly made out of his own aura, though concentrated enough as to be visible to the untrained eye. He can control the unintentional impression that he impresses on others by colouring his own aura, and further manipulation of his aura can shield him effectively from psychic manipulation directed at himself. The last of Yaroslav's most commonly used abilities, though there are conceivably more, is a melding of mundane and magical abilities. Yaroslav, oft called a mind reader, or psychic in his own right, attributes his uncanny ability to discern the thoughts of others to his closeness to God. In reality, it is a product of his natural talent at cold reading, a technique used by mentalists and psychics who lack any magical power, and also the significant advantage of being able to perceive the aura of the person whose mind he is ostensibly reading. Even a person who is intentionally trying to obfuscate their reactions to stimuli will give up their hand to Yaroslav, as he can always see "their true colours."

Personality:

A man of extremes, Yaroslav is either totally angry, happy, stern, joking, or cynical to the exterior observer. This however, is the shallow veil of the man's own aura manipulations. While he comes across as completely mercurial, leaping headlong from one emotion to the next in an unbroken stream, that is the barest tip of the iceberg that is Father Yaroslav.

Underneath his protective blanket of his own aura, Yaroslav is a meditative, pensive individual who spends an unhealthy amount of time studying others. He tends to dissect the people he's surrounded by, using the blunt force tools at his disposal to get people to open up, at least in their auras, if not their own exteriors. Yaroslav has often viewed that aspect of his ability with a certain wry irony, knowing that he gets to cheat both ways, hiding his true emotions while always perceiving those of others, try as they might to hide them.

The man has seen horrors in his time, being a member of an eclectic and oft-hunted order of monks in a distant land. Those experiences scarred him psychologically, and he feels as though he is the loneliest person in the world. At the heart of who Yaroslav is, he is a man whose very magical ability personifies his inability to truly connect with others, yet his persistent efforts to understand that which he has not.

Background:

Yaroslav was born in a small town in the mountains, and raised a farmer's boy. He didn't receive any real education, up until he was an adult and his older brother having inherited the whole of their father's estate, set off on a journey to see the rest of the world with nothing but the clothes on his back to his name. After many years travelling from place to place, working as he needed to, but always leaving before he could lay down roots, Yaroslav found himself visiting a monastic order. He was enraptured by their force of belief, and having long grown weary of the lonesome road, yearned for the companionship of brotherhood that they held.

Thus, Brother Yaroslav was inducted into their order. The best years of his life, and the worst, were spent at that remote temple. Yaroslav experienced the worst of trials, and barely managed to prevail through them all. The reward however, was an education, finally unlocking the mysteries that the world offered, as well as the Good Word of God, which in no short time Yaroslav was a learned preacher of. However, even after becoming Father Yaroslav, the man's plights did not end, but rather increased. Religious persecution of the order had increased tenfold in Yaroslav's time with the order, and he soon had to face angry mobs who would make the long trek up to their temple to raid them.

It was when at last, Yaroslav resolved to go down the mountains, and offer himself up as a sacrifice to appease the senseless mob, that he stumbled over a root, felt an otherworldly sensation, and found himself in another world.

Equipment: Yaroslav's Robes, his Holy Book, and his reading glasses.

Theme:

Closed

@Zelosse
So there are two possible paths of the Wind and Light course?

@Hammerman

Technically there's a bunch of ways, depending on what you try. To be super irritatingly philosophical about it though, "there may be a million ways to fail, but only one way will lead to success."

(You have to get from the outcrop you start at down to the lower one and enter the cave there. Be creative about it and get bonus points. Be unimaginative and our Holy Zel shalt strikers thee down from his sacred mountain!)

Life in a strange realm

Kalleth's Character Sheet

Father Yaroslav

73

Male

Human

Magic: Aura Control

A kind of spirit magic which grants Yaroslav the following abilities; Aura Manipulation (Self) and Aura Analysis (Others). Life Sense, Magical Analysis/Detection (Minor) and an enhanced healing factor and endurance bolstered by his Aura, are passive benefits given by his two magical abilities.

Aura is one manifestation of the spirit, as a kind of field that covers a living creature, and which can be used to read into that creature's emotional state, nature, and overall state of wellbeing. The Aura field is also linked to psionics, New Age theory, and many theorems of the supernatural, paranormal.

Pairing Yaroslav's abilities together, the priest can manifest weapons constructed from sheer force of will, seemingly made out of his own aura, though concentrated enough as to be visible to the untrained eye. He can control the unintentional impression that he impresses on others by colouring his own aura, and further manipulation of his aura can shield him effectively from psychic manipulation directed at himself. The last of Yaroslav's most commonly used abilities, though there are conceivably more, is a melding of mundane and magical abilities. Yaroslav, oft called a mind reader, or psychic in his own right, attributes his uncanny ability to discern the thoughts of others to his closeness to God. In reality, it is a product of his natural talent at cold reading, a technique used by mentalists and psychics who lack any magical power, and also the significant advantage of being able to perceive the aura of the person whose mind he is ostensibly reading. Even a person who is intentionally trying to obfuscate their reactions to stimuli will give up their hand to Yaroslav, as he can always see "their true colours."

Personality:

A man of extremes, Yaroslav is either totally angry, happy, stern, joking, or cynical to the exterior observer. This however, is the shallow veil of the man's own aura manipulations. While he comes across as completely mercurial, leaping headlong from one emotion to the next in an unbroken stream, that is the barest tip of the iceberg that is Father Yaroslav.

Underneath his protective blanket of his own aura, Yaroslav is a meditative, pensive individual who spends an unhealthy amount of time studying others. He tends to dissect the people he's surrounded by, using the blunt force tools at his disposal to get people to open up, at least in their auras, if not their own exteriors. Yaroslav has often viewed that aspect of his ability with a certain wry irony, knowing that he gets to cheat both ways, hiding his true emotions while always perceiving those of others, try as they might to hide them.

The man has seen horrors in his time, being a member of an eclectic and oft-hunted order of monks in a distant land. Those experiences scarred him psychologically, and he feels as though he is the loneliest person in the world. At the heart of who Yaroslav is, he is a man whose very magical ability personifies his inability to truly connect with others, yet his persistent efforts to understand that which he has not.

Background:

Yaroslav was born in a small town in the mountains, and raised a farmer's boy. He didn't receive any real education, up until he was an adult and his older brother having inherited the whole of their father's estate, set off on a journey to see the rest of the world with nothing but the clothes on his back to his name. After many years travelling from place to place, working as he needed to, but always leaving before he could lay down roots, Yaroslav found himself visiting a monastic order. He was enraptured by their force of belief, and having long grown weary of the lonesome road, yearned for the companionship of brotherhood that they held.

Thus, Brother Yaroslav was inducted into their order. The best years of his life, and the worst, were spent at that remote temple. Yaroslav experienced the worst of trials, and barely managed to prevail through them all. The reward however, was an education, finally unlocking the mysteries that the world offered, as well as the Good Word of God, which in no short time Yaroslav was a learned preacher of. However, even after becoming Father Yaroslav, the man's plights did not end, but rather increased. Religious persecution of the order had increased tenfold in Yaroslav's time with the order, and he soon had to face angry mobs who would make the long trek up to their temple to raid them.

It was when at last, Yaroslav resolved to go down the mountains, and offer himself up as a sacrifice to appease the senseless mob, that he stumbled over a root, felt an otherworldly sensation, and found himself in another world.

Equipment: Yaroslav's Robes, his Holy Book, and his reading glasses.

Theme:

Eil Orliad: The Forgotten Prophecy

@Kalleth I feel your character is all the stronger for it, too. Y'know, like... in character... like, as in... depth, n' shit...

And while I do like your character, I can't recall seeing a reason as to why he's "The King of Stories". Sounds like a title for the less-than-truthful type, but I may have missed it and I'm sorry if I did.

-

@Zelosse Was he dead? Did he die? He probably died. I bet he's dead.

@ArkmageddonCat

I will not be referring to Lev IC, and do not encourage anybody else, to refer to him IC as "The King of Stories." It really is just a meta-nickname that kind of covers his character's motif. After all, if he is a King of anything, his dominion now after all this time is probably that of the stories that he's constantly chasing after, and most certainly the one he is determinedly avoiding all the while.

If it still doesn't make sense, that's fine. It is just a teasing label for the CS application, and while it might not be... completely true, it would be much as if for example, you were to refer to Jeggred as The Hoarder of Souls, or to Reshi as The Demon of The Mountains. Technically true? No. Cool-sounding hype wrestler titles? Yes. So if anything, think of The King of Stories as being Lev's hype-man's way of invoking his arrival.

"And now, in this side of the ring, HERE COMES THE KING OF STORIES, LET'S GET RRRRREEEEEAAAADDY TO RUMBLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

:D

Eil Orliad: The Forgotten Prophecy

@Kalleth Interesting choice of weaponry...

@ArkmageddonCat

I know right? I was thinking about maybe having the Sword of Kings be an irreplaceable shapeshifting weapon of god-like proportions, but then I thought better of it.

Eil Orliad: The Forgotten Prophecy

The King of Stories

His Most Royal Majesty, King Leverin Tažn of Wéld

---

---

Age: 27

Male

Race: Human

---

Personality

Lev's entire outlook on life is tainted forever by the fate of his Kingdom. Where once stood a proud, dominating, inspiring presence, now lies a broken and defeated man, dithering in the ruins of his own shame and sorrow. What remains, in the desiccated and fetid remains? An abiding worship of the stories of the world, and those that carry them, a razor-sharp wit which has honed its edge to the bleak and bitter side of humour, and a dangerously fervent hope that flickers underneath it all that perhaps, the House of Tažn could restore its realm to greater glory.

Of Himself; Lev once thought as highly of himself as his subjects did, a man struggling to provide for and to confer prosperity to his realm in any way he could. Now however the Tažn heir see only the flaws in all his own actions, never failing to self-deprecate to the degree and intensity which might lead a man to believe him suicidal. The crushing reality is that so far sunken are Lev's expectations of himself, that he fails to see how he could ever hope to succeed at something as taxing as the effort of taking his own life. In many ways, the throes of Lev's depression most heavily fall upon his own self-image. His own story, Lev treats with acidic distaste, seemingly unwilling to regard it as anything more than a tragedy. He fails to openly acknowledge that there could ever be a continuation to his own story and in all ways but literal, treats his own tale as a stunted and abortive thing, which ought not to be observed even peripherally. On the rare occasions when he allows himself to look, he must reflexively flinch back, because every time he looks he becomes less and less certain of his own powerlessness, and starts discerning the beginnings of hope for redemption. The majority of the time, Lev relegates himself purposefully to the background of other people's stories, which brings us to...

Of Others; Lev's personality of dismal and hopeless despair is diluted somewhat, though not always in a beneficial way, by the personalities, histories, and actions of those that surround him. Ever a lover of stories, that remnant of himself springs to the forefront when an interesting stranger appears. Rather hypocritically, Lev is most irritated by those who fail to acknowledge their own story and share it with him, despite his attitude surrounding his own past. Should others express desires regarding Lev, he tends to make good on them, in a largely passive manner. He's gained all of his current relationships, intimate and otherwise, not through his own deliberate action except in regard to a desire to be involved in the stories of others. Consequently, Lev is bafflingly indifferent as to the role he plays, so long as he is cast in some role by others, in paradoxical externalizations of himself. Although one wouldn't suspect a depressive individual such as Lev to possess the disposition, it is because of his attitude that Lev is relentlessly extroverted, always seeking people. It causes him great distress to allow himself to focus too long inwardly, and he desires nothing so much as to provoke a reaction out of people who pry too deeply, whether it involves punching them in the face, or buying them a drink. Lev is a hero, a villain, a mentor, and an aspirant. He will be a friend, rival, enemy, or acquaintance. Lev doesn't care, he just wants to see where the story goes...

Of The Seekers; Lev's immediate impulse upon hearing of the organization was to join them, in what he guessed would be the greatest gathering of stories the world had ever seen. He has yet to crystallize his opinion of the organization's motives, goals, and personnel, such as they may be.

Of Ciir; Lev sees the world around him as reflective of his own's story's ending. A dying end to which no true purpose could ever meaningfully be given, beyond its housing of the stories of others of course. What he unconsciously persists in, is reflecting on the perspectives of others regarding the world, and how their perceptions might meld with and alter his own. He particularly fixates on the ways in which others seem to alter the literal and attach their own personal meaning to it, which may very well hold the key to changing Lev's own view of Ciir.

History

Hider

Leverin Tažn the First, King of Wéld, grew up with an idyllic childhood, with all who knew him expecting him to one day adopt the mantle of Kingship with ease, and capability. Trained in martial and magical skills, Lev became sufficient at the very least in defending himself, and gained the perspectives of both the warrior and the mage, knowledge and experience that Lev's parents knew he would be able to make good use of when holding council. Of eccentricities in childhood, Lev was almost lacking. He tended to trust his parents' judgment entirely and allowed them to guide him through all the preparation he would need to serve (as his father desired) as a diplomatic liaison between the neighbouring city-states and kingdoms. The few things that Lev took to of his own accord, reading in the library and watching bards, troubadours, and acting troupes, were things that his parents saw as harmless distractions. They didn't understand how profoundly Lev had been affected by these hobbies until it was too late.

Leverin came of age, and was sent out on his first diplomatic mission on behalf of his father. He had been tasked with negotiating a more profitable trade deal for Wéld. In that age of strife and conquest when the Imperium seemed poised to take the world out from under everyone's feet, alliances were more important than ever. More taken by stories and legends than anybody could ever have guessed, Lev had decided that his diplomatic tactic would be to allow his reputation to precede him. This is why, when Lev and his detail of guards encountered a burning and broken carriage, and heard screams from within, Lev himself leapt to action to try and save whatever poor soul it was that had come to such a bad fate. The guards helped, and within seconds of the guards helping to pull a man free of the carriage, it collapsed in on itself not a moment too soon. The person whom Lev had saved introduced himself as a castellan for King Dardates, monarch of the Kingdom of Sagrimarch. It was almost too good to be true, (and in fact was,) and Lev hastened himself with giving the castellan some of his own clothes to wear to cover himself, the castellan's own livery having scorched off in his harrowing brush with death. Having come to an easy resting place in the road just east of where the carriage had been attacked, as per the castellan's own explanation, Lev offered him a place to sleep amongst the rest. The castellan readily agreed and they sipped and drank until the evening grew late and all went to sleep. As Lev drifted off, he thought himself a proper hero, as in the stories of old that he had been regaled with since he first began watching plays and hearing the stories of the glorious exploits of legendary heroes. And from a diplomatic standpoint, Lev knew for certain that helping the castellan of the King whom he was going to seek a trade deal with would be a crucial advantage to have to win the alliance that would benefit Wéld the most.

And when Lev woke up, that happy fantasy was just as dead as the guards that had protected him to their dying breath, throats slit in their sleep. In a panic, Lev thought that whoever had attacked the castellan must have come after him as well, and it was with rising horror that Lev found himself searching in a panic for his signet ring and royal seal. Both gone. Further searching indicated no dead castellan and Lev was just as mystified by his own preserved life. Left with a million questions, no answers, and a lump of grief burning in his stomach, Lev began the long ride home on his charger, the only horse left alive.

Before he could reach the border of Sagrimarch, Lev was captured by soldiers wearing their colours and taken as a prisoner of war, as a member of the Royal Family, the war's instigator, and for fleeing a demand for his own arrest King Dardates himself. The soldiers told him in no uncertain terms that "his actions against the King were unforgivable," and that "only his value as a bargaining chip" was keeping him alive for the time being. That very same reason led to Lev being dragged across the country with the army, never actually meeting the King of Sagrimarch face-to-face, even though he was leading his armies in battle against Lev's father. Several letters requesting that a ransom be paid for their son, "the envoy of war," were sent to Lev's parents. No word of any reply ever reached Lev's ears.

Years of imprisonment had not deadened Lev to word of how the war was progressing, and as the war seemed to be coming to a close, with the Sagrimarchers on the defensive and looking for an opening for a treaty arrangement, he was hopeful of his reunion with his family and kingdom. When word however, reached the Sagrimarchers that both fronts, Wéldian and Sagrimarch alike, were being flanked by Imperium cavalry lines, an ungodly panic arose. The bloodbath that came from that masterful battle strategy of the Imperium, concocted to weaken both enemies beyond any hope of victory, left both dynastic families destroyed, their armies shattered.

Somehow, Lev had survived the carnage, only to be captured by Imperials wearing strange coloured clothes. He was confronted by... the castellan, from nigh on two years before, wearing the same strange outfit that the Imperials wore, though he seemed to be their leader. He explained in brief that he was thankful for Lev's aid in igniting aggressions between the Wéldians and Sagrimarchers, because if any two kingdoms under one banner had the potential to threaten the Imperium, it had been them. Without Lev's kind act of charity, the Imperial agent would not have been able to impersonate him, and declare the war that had cost both kingdoms their existence, and gained the Imperium two kingdoms' worth of new lands. He granted Lev the official title, of (pretender-to-the-throne) King of Wéld, a King without a Kingdom, and then shipped him off in irons to the Imperial frontier, on the other side of the world.

Lev would eventually through a series of breaks, end up a free man once again, though he never tried to regain his kingdom or press whatever claims he might have, using his identity as a kind of icebreaker, a joke to get whomever he was talking with to laugh. He buried himself in other people's stories, and let the world move him as it willed. After all, his own story seemed decidedly finished, with a suitably tragic end for all involved.

How wrong he was.

---

Weapons

• The Sword of Kings ~ Wéldriž - A battered bar of rust, fashioned through many hours of absentminded upkeep into a sub-standard blade. A blacksmith might confuse it for a bar of metal still waiting to be shaped.
• The Poniard of Kings ~ Grišiš - A dagger, of splendid quality, stolen. Sheathless, and tends to cut into Lev's belts.
• The Sling of Kings ~ Žakr - When Lev's belt does break, he is quick to fashion it into a sling and use it to fling whatever is to hand. Astonishingly, this weapon appears to be the most reliable.

Magic

• Binding Magic (Minor) ~ Šimaž - A small ratty cord of straw-woven rope round Lev's neck acts as a focus for this magic, and it allows Lev to magically bind/stick two objects together. The binding is weak, and only lasts as long as Lev is within range. It cannot affect living flesh. Ex. Sticking a door shut, pinning small objects to the wall, sticking a sword in its sheath.
• Minor Illusions - Lev's focus for this magic is a small glyph tattoo behind his ear, made in black ink, which if asked, Lev will lie in explaining that it is a birthmark. Though this kind of magic requires no activating command, its use is limited. The magic can produce; auditory, visual, tactile, and olfactory illusions. These illusions can affect one target, and cannot be broken by the target's own abilities, but rather by Lev or an outside force. Furthermore, the success or failure of an illusion is dependent on how likely the target would perceive the illusion to be. Specifically, Lev will know the illusion has failed based solely on the person's reaction, as he can't see his own illusions, and the magic acts as a power of suggestion, increasing the sense of what the target already believes, suspects, or expects will be there.

---

Other

Important Possessions:

• The King's Mantle - A tattered cloak with myriad pieces of fabric sewn together, though the cloak itself is constantly falling apart. In what remains of the original cloak, two curiosities; dozens of pockets stuffed with odds and ends by Lev, as much to practice sewing as to store items of interest, and a half-burnt crest of the Tažn family, sewn on at his breast.
• The King's Chronicle - Accompanying Lev wherever he goes is an (initially) blank book, and a small case with quill and ink, which are among the possessions he maintains and cares for the most. Within the book he possesses at any given time, he will write a person's story, and when he is finished, he gifts the individual with their story, as seen through Lev's eyes. He then "procures" another book as soon as possible. It's a relatively new tradition, but already Lev has written up the stories of several individuals.
• The King's Sewing Kit - Lev also carries with him an elaborate kit of needles, thread, and pins to use when repairing his cloak, binding a new book (with stolen leather and paper naturally), or even (though he has the least experience with this) sewing shut a wound.

---

Post Example

The Barman's Tale

"Have I ever told you that I'm a King?"

"You've told us that load of shit twelve times Lev! Leave off with it already," the barman, Eldon, said with a scowl. Lev for his part, grinned into his tankard, the same twisted smile that he'd worn the last twelve times his question had been answered only with scorn and disbelief.

The last heir of the Tažn family title sat in this little tavern in the middle of nowhere, somewhere between two member-cities of the League, and drained his ale. He dropped a few coins on the bar counter, and when Eldon came over to pick up the payment, his scowl deepened. Eldon was a big man, with thick black hair and a face like a brick, but more than anything, the way his hands were scarred and calloused was suggestive of some more strenuous past he had left behind him.

"This is a half-crown more than that ale's worth. You think you can sweet-talk me into giving you free refills?"

"Hardly," Lev said, meeting Eldon's frown with calm interest. "Rather, that's a half-crown for your story, since my own half-crown doesn't seem to carry much weight around here."

Eldon rolled his eyes at that last comment, but pushed the coin back toward Lev.

"I'm a barkeep, not a bard. You pay for drinks here, not fairy tales."

"I don't want just any old story. I want your story Eldon. Oh come now, I'm leaving town tomorrow." Eldon raised an eyebrow at that announcement, leaving unsaid the fact that Lev had been saying that for a week now. The half-crown was new, and that had made the older man suspicious.

"I'll put it on your tab." Eldon finally said, pocketing the small crown and returning to the glass he had been wiping down before he had gone to take Lev's payment.

Lev sighed, scratching at his scraggly beard with disappointment. It was a shame, to grow attached to this bar and it's owner, albeit in Lev's own distant fashion, and not to gain a look into the man's soul, his story.

"There was a girl," Eldon suddenly began, giving Lev a grumpy look as his set the glass down, and picked up another. "There always seems to be, to hear others talk..."

Lev smiled, openly and genuinely this time, feeling the light chase away his darkness, and he pulled out his journal and quill.

---

Theme Song: