The man slowly removed his boot, closing his eyes and breathing deep as he brought his atraves stave to lean upon. There was no apparent guilt, no care for what he had just done as the child lay limp before him. His gritty Daendroque accent showing as he spoke down towards his victim. "You child, my son. You show fear, you show anger and above all you show that you are not worthy to carry my name." His words, cut like a knife. His eyes looking through the boy, stabbing like daggers.
The child attempted to rise, only to be hit in the back with the stave again. He dropped once more as the stave was drawn back and knocked into the back of his knee. "You are the future of this house, I will not let some insect that thrives in the dirt take my place." He hissed out the words, a cruel and confident tone taking over his speech. Wiping at his forehead with a cloth, the man shook his head lightly and let out a long, deep sigh. He reared his stave once more, only to slam it unto the ground afront the boy's face as the child curled himself into a fetal position.
The man ran his hands over his balding head, letting out a frustrated roar; his stave slammed into the ground about the boy a few more times as he shouted out at him. "You! You are no son of mine, never will you be!"
Petyr blinked some as he heard the far off voices calling to him, looking upwards towards the familiar accents of those shouting towards him. His faint smile was fading, a facade that wore thin after the countless years and the haunting memories of his father's abuse. His lower lip quivered for a moment as he realized who was calling out to him, he rose on his stave and wiped at his eyes to rid himself of the tears. He furrowed his brow, putting on a strong face as his brother approached.
In his mind, that event eighteen long years ago was but a cruel nightmare, something fueled by pure fear of his father. Even now, he didn't understand why he had been beaten and tortured. The scarring on his body was a horrible reminder that those you love can hurt you the most.
He offered out his hand in greeting to his brother, giving a small nod and an odd noise of approval. In return, his brother only offered out a stave made of mahogany and tipped with decorative silver. Petyr's face fell some, taking the weapon from his younger brother's hands and staring blankly at the silver tips; for a moment, he could swear there was blood upon the finely polished metal. He blinked twice, running his sleeve over his eyes in order to confirm what he'd seen, though he only saw the fine metal, glistening in the hot sun overhead. "This weapon is built for a monster, why do you give it to me, brother?"
His brother grinned some, chuckling almost as he spoke out. "Because you are an Espinoza."
A lot of people have been asking me recently why I've not been playing any Ailor, the simple answer is that I had no characters to play. I can now, however, happily confirm that I have two characters in the works and this is my introduction for the first, Petyr Espinoza who as of yet has not been skinned. I am looking forwards to playing this character especially because of many of the hardships I've put him through in his life and because he is going to be a character unlike any I've played before, I look forwards to sharing more details in the future with you all.
"Petyr will be seeing you all very soon!~"
Callum James Taylor.
Callum James Taylor.
