Early Aperitus in the Season of Summer, Era XI Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening
The Half-elf was sprawled on the damp, dirty earth, tired, but relieved all the same, that shield had taken a lot out of him. He slowly reached his thin bony hand into his pocket, and after a while rummaging around in there, he pulled outa small bundle of cloth, and began to unravel the plaken inside. There was three brightening's worth of food there, but he wasn't bothered, he deserved it, besides he'd had no roysun, this was to catch up.
It took him a while to eat the frubi, he savoured every last crumb in his mouth, he was careful to catch even the smallest falling piece. For some reason, the plaken tasted different, much better than usual, he put it down to his lack of nourishment over the last few days, "Anyway," he uttered to himself, "Can't stay here for the whole brightening,"
He picked up his corpse, and slowly but surely began to head towards the place he would soon be calling home. The Half-elf had never seen the single roomed house before, but whatever it looked like, he was going to leave his mark upon it.
It seemed to take an era to reach the home, but when he finally arrived, it was all somehow worth it, the long walk to the outskirts of the city, the struggle through the defences, and now the long walk home. At first he wasn't sure if he had the right place, so he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles on the door, nothing, he slowly pushed the door open, it creaked, loudly, it obviously hadn't been disturbed in a while.
He slowly poked his head round the door, it was empty, no signs of disruption, a thin layer of dust lay across everything, it was archaic, an echoe of when his family before him had lived here. He stepped further inside, and walked with a look of inquisitiveness on his face, over towards the table, upon which stood an envelope, propped up against the fruit bowl,
It's a good job nobody left any fruit in there he thought to himself.
The envelope was strange, of course it was a regular envelope, but it was covered in relatively little dust,
how odd. He picked it up and read the front, 'To whom it may concern', he turned it over, a huge red blob of wax dominated the envelope, it wasn't quite in the centre. The wax was imprinted with the motto of the human half of his family
'dignitas, ferocitas, mentis',
'Dignity, ferocity, thought', he was told as a child, that these were the three things that were in his blood, and the blood of his children, and theirs, but he was still skeptical.
He ripped open the envelope, and pulled out the note, it was written very beautifully, especially for a human hand, 'Young man, this ring dates back many centuries, it has been worn by your forefathers for many years, do the same,'.
That's a rather large assumtion, he thought to himself,
what if I was a woman? He squeezed the edges of the envelope slightly, so the lips opened out, and pulled the ring out of the bottom corner. It was hardly beautiful, it was of a tarnished metal, which looked to him like brass, engraved again with the family motto. He slipped it onto his second finger, it was a little tight around the knuckle, but once he'd pushed it fully on, the fit was perfect. The ring clearly had no magical or monetary value, but it was a heirloom, so he felt he had to wear it, out of respect.
The dust in the house was making Hermes sensitive nose very irritable, so he decided to begin a dusting session. He pulled the piece of cloth with which his food was wrapped from his pocket and shook of all the crumbs. He began to dust everything in his house, everytime the cloth had accumulated too much dust, he walked over to the door, and shook it out. It took him at least an hour to clean the entire house,
as if I wasn't already tired enough he thought to himself as he finished the last plane of the worktop.
He was ready for a drink, he put the kettle on the hob, brought it to the boil, and proceeded to make some impure allerian tea. "If only there was someone to share it with," he uttered...
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