He Arrived.

Discussion in 'Player Stories' started by xJomax, Sep 7, 2017.

  1. xJomax

    xJomax Aaron Girard

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    He arrived. His boots made a faint tapping sound on the cobblestone floor. He looked onwards, towards the Golden Willow. He narrowed his eyes, and grinned. The grin was painful, and tired. A satisfied expression came onto his face and in his eyes you could sense he was excited, but kept it inside. He looked to his left and right, seeing people everywhere. The man then looked onwards, he passed a few shops and one caught his eye. He didn't face it but he turned his eye towards it. A map shop, perhaps helpful for his future journeys. Not useful now but on his way out he should stop by. He looked at the people, not long enough to be noticed but he noticed their rich clothes and facial features. The man himself had a stubble, and golden hair. He rubbed his chin, again grinning a tired and painful grin. The man wore a grey coat, with a jet black belt and black waistcoat. Under this was a stained white shirt, stains of alcohol and water were noticeable around the top. He hadn't taken much care in his appearance but now as he looked among the beautiful women and the handsome men he felt out of place. He still felt satisfaction, more than anything. He put his hands in his dirty pockets and walked into the Golden Willow. He still narrowed his eyes from the sunlight, although he'd been in the sun for a while now and had experienced blistering heat. Onwards was an empty seat, just lying there. He looked at it.
    'Have a brew' He heard it say. Of course chairs cannot speak, he thought. It was ridiculous and the mind was playing it's tricks on him. By now he learned not to fall for them. But, for once, he listened and walked in. His boots made a tapping sound on the floor but it quickly stopped as he stepped on the carpet. As he stepped on the carpet he left brown foot prints. He then sat down onto the seat and exhaled.
    'Spirit..' He had muttered quietly to himself as he used the sleeve of his coat to wipe off his sweat. He ordered a beer, and it came to him. A wave of coldness shot through his hand, up his arm, and the coldness overwhelmed him. He smiled and was genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. He took a sip and once again he was overwhelmed. Still, he drank it within a minute. His body was no longer hot and sweaty, though if you took off his coat sweat patches under his armpit would appear, instead it became freezing. He didn't care. Honestly he'd bathe in ice, the desert was horrible. Too many times he'd have to find a camp to take refuge in, or find a village of diseased people who would feed him. He'd passed through Farahdeen, soon after the war ended. Still he saw remains, and dusty skulls left as a reminder of the violence that took place, and as a reminder of the utter power of Regalia.

    He looked to his right, and saw people laughing and having a good time. He saw people socialising and participating in drinking games. Yet here he was, all alone. All alone with nothing but a beer to keep him company. The loneliness was no surprise, sometimes he'd forget how to socialise because he wandered alone for so long.
    'Join the revolution, kill all nobles and revolt against their corruption!' He heard a voice scream from behind. Accompanied by this he heard gasps and people say 'spirit' almost 5 times. Almost immediately after he bolted for the door, and made his escape. Soon after a woman was being questioned by a guard.
    'You're saying it's a he?'
    'I assume, he sounded pretty manly.'
    'And what did he say?'
    'Something about revolt and corruption'.
    The man got up, and chimed in with:
    'He told us to join a revolution and revolt against corruption.' His voice was low, and gruff. Almost raspy with some words.
    'Riight..Ok.' The guard replied.
    The man in the grey coat had tired eyes, and he planned to give said eyes a long rest. Have a beer or two, then go to sleep for a while. Yes..That sounded like a good idea and even the thought of a good sleep made him smile slightly, very slightly. He turned, and walked out. The hot breeze pushed itself against him, but he walked on. He started to sweat again. He wiped his forehead and ran his sandy fingers though his hair.
    Time to rest, he thought again. He arrived. He opened the door to his room and slowly walked up the stairs. He lay down and fell into a deep slumber almost immediately. What a time to be alive, he thought as he dropped himself onto the bed. the_return_of_the_gunslinger_by_sneedd.jpg
     
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