More Than a Normal Drink [Open]

[Karbaaros]

Second Cycle of Junctior
Twenty-First Candlemark in the Darkening of Dianara
The Autumn of Era III of the Celestine Mandate
Twelfth Era Post Fractum, in the Reign of Arabella
Paradigm: the Voice of Diana is heardFirst Cycle of Junctior
Twenty-First Candlemark in the Darkening of Dianara
The Autumn of Era III of the Celestine Mandate
Twelfth Era Post Fractum, in the Reign of Arabella
Paradigm: the Voice of Diana is heard

Karbaaros walked into the Crown, his head hung low. He sat down at a table and waved over a barmaid, ordering a tankard of stout and a whiskey. He laid some gold down on her tray, and stared into space as he waited for his drink. His right hand ran through his long, dark hair and his deepset blue eyes sat dully as he planned in his head.

It had been a week ago when the news had reached him. "I'm tellin' yer," the old man at the bar had said, "He's ain't dead! Scar 'round the neck an' all, but he ain't dead! Came in t'other day and I sawr him with me own eyes!" Elrez, the man who had killed his mother, was back in Prime. At the age of thirteen, Karbaaros had cut the man's throat while he slept and left him for dead. As it turned out, he hadn't done to job properly. The frightened man, after being healed, had fled from the city. Now, fifteen years later, he was back.

According to the old man, he was camped out in the countryside with a group of thieves. They would be stopped there for the next two cycles before moving on. Karbaaros had to act soon, and finish the job he started. As the ale arrived, he sipped deeply at it as he watched the clientelle come and go.

[Jarradium]

No one paid any particular notice to Karbaaros sat alone at a table, sipping deeply at his drink. It was rather common for people to do so. Usually it were a sign of dark times when people kept to themselves, but even when the empire was in a state of happiness and prosperity, there were those who had fallen on ill fortune. As such, the crown inn and tavern was always filled with a variety of moods, while thousands of stories came and went each day.

This had been going on in this establishment for thousands of patterns, despite the many varying events in which the tavern had been destroyed. At this time, however, as far as Karbaaros could discern, every other table save one had groups of people, either talking loudly and laughing or quietly enjoying each other's companionship quietly. There were even those who were discussing the finer points of life, philosophising about every detail one could imagine.

For a long time, things went on in the tavern as normal and everything was fine. However, it seemed as though today fate would deal Karbaaros an interesting hand. Three men at a table which had been talking quietly noticed Karbaaros and after several moments, the elder of the men, with hard, weathered skin and wrinkles and a balding crown on top, came and set opposite Karbaaros without invitation.

As he sat, Karbaaros got the opportunity to observe the man in full. His clothes were simple. He was robed in basic brown, those that a peasant from the country may wear. However, his nose seemed a little crooked and was bandaged. It was obvious that not so long in the past that he had been in a fight that he had yet to follow recover from. On his right hand, on his ring finger, though, he wore a simple copper ring with a design on it. A scythe crossed with a bone set onto the copper ring. The way the man held the ring, it was being held deliberately so that Karbaaros could see the ring, as if it were to hold meaning.

"Serale, stranger, but you seem a little troubled." The man said, smiling, with one singular missing tooth "Maybe there is something I could do for you" The man's voice was deep, and somewhat authoritative. The voice definitely had force to it and although not friendly, still had a gentle undertone. From the man's body language and smile, Karbaaros could see that he meant no harm.