Faust Greyheart
Mar 4, 2021 14:20:59 GMT
Merla, the Daughter of Summer, Wixspartan, and 3 more like this
Post by WillJ on Mar 4, 2021 14:20:59 GMT
An older gentleman, red skinned, with a pair of small curled horns sticking out the top of a now bald head smoothes the front of his dinner jacket unconsciously, an unnecessary habit. He sits down onto the plush armchair in his room in the Flourished Hook, upright and stern. His face portrays a long and at times difficult life but his thoughts turn to one particular grief as he produces his notebook and dips his ink pen:
My dearest Margret.
I made it to Kantas, just as you said I would, just as we had planned to do. The journey was long and the sea voyage troublesome. Despite the promises in Balder's Gate, the ship's company were not civilised. They mocked me, my appearance and my good manners. It hurt, I thought that I had found acceptance but it is clear that the hard won love and respect of the Greycloaks is not indicative of the wider world. It seems there are still plenty who harbour ill-will against those of us with infernal blood, no matter our manners or charms.
I complained to the captain the afternoon before we docked. A mistake. He invited me to dine with him, a gesture of good will and reconciliation. I attended in that old jacket and tie, I made an effort, in deference his rank and station. He greeted me with kindness, spoke honeyed lies while his crew rifled through my belongings. I left the ship to laughter, with only a few essentials, these clothes, my viol and a bitter taste in my mouth. Maggie, is this what it means to be a civilised man in an uncivilised world?
Its been three days; the sea air is so very different to that of our mountain city, fresh, salty, invigorating. But this port is just like the other towns I've passed through on the way here. For all the continent is new, the stories of the inhabitants are as old as Great Maester Stonehand. We said we would travel to see something new and I think I must venture inland for that. There are plenty of adventurers here so I have resolved to join a group of them tomorrow. They are headed to Daring Heights (remember when we first heard that name?) and I will join them. Maggie, I can tell you are pleading with me to be safe. But where could be safer than with a caravan under the protection of adventurers? And I still have a few tricks up my sleeve if it comes to violence.
Faust Greyheart smiles as he finishes. Sprinkles some sand on the ink, his beautiful cursive drying and becoming permenant. There is comfort in telling his tale, in putting down in words that which he would have told his wife. It keeps her close to him, reminds him of the wonderful 60 years they spent together. Reminds him that there are things in this world that are good, pure and worth protecting with his life.
He sits back, relaxes a little and with a sip of wine wonders to himself what tomorrow will bring.
My dearest Margret.
I made it to Kantas, just as you said I would, just as we had planned to do. The journey was long and the sea voyage troublesome. Despite the promises in Balder's Gate, the ship's company were not civilised. They mocked me, my appearance and my good manners. It hurt, I thought that I had found acceptance but it is clear that the hard won love and respect of the Greycloaks is not indicative of the wider world. It seems there are still plenty who harbour ill-will against those of us with infernal blood, no matter our manners or charms.
I complained to the captain the afternoon before we docked. A mistake. He invited me to dine with him, a gesture of good will and reconciliation. I attended in that old jacket and tie, I made an effort, in deference his rank and station. He greeted me with kindness, spoke honeyed lies while his crew rifled through my belongings. I left the ship to laughter, with only a few essentials, these clothes, my viol and a bitter taste in my mouth. Maggie, is this what it means to be a civilised man in an uncivilised world?
Its been three days; the sea air is so very different to that of our mountain city, fresh, salty, invigorating. But this port is just like the other towns I've passed through on the way here. For all the continent is new, the stories of the inhabitants are as old as Great Maester Stonehand. We said we would travel to see something new and I think I must venture inland for that. There are plenty of adventurers here so I have resolved to join a group of them tomorrow. They are headed to Daring Heights (remember when we first heard that name?) and I will join them. Maggie, I can tell you are pleading with me to be safe. But where could be safer than with a caravan under the protection of adventurers? And I still have a few tricks up my sleeve if it comes to violence.
Faust Greyheart smiles as he finishes. Sprinkles some sand on the ink, his beautiful cursive drying and becoming permenant. There is comfort in telling his tale, in putting down in words that which he would have told his wife. It keeps her close to him, reminds him of the wonderful 60 years they spent together. Reminds him that there are things in this world that are good, pure and worth protecting with his life.
He sits back, relaxes a little and with a sip of wine wonders to himself what tomorrow will bring.