Open Chronicles Just Give Me a Drink

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

The Spine

Western Side

Hm...rain again.

​

It had been that way for weeks it seemed. Off and on they'd have a break, but as quickly as it left it would return again - and travel proved far too arduous. So, the sight of a seemingly well off settlement was more than a welcome one. Traveling by foot had left him weary, and the dampness made making camp impossible almost anywhere. This was the reprieve he was hoping for.

He drudged his way through the muck of the path, and soon felt cobble underfoot. His legs felt tired, but he pressed on, eager to find shelter. There were few people out, and even fewer even noticed him. Though he was hidden under his hood, it was at least nice to see obvious travelers were welcome. He doubted his heritage would matter much - in fact he thought he even saw a komodi or the like, though they were likewise hooded and hard to discern.

But finally along his way he saw a sign hanging out over the street. It was named simply, The Pub.

He climbed the stairs to the porch, and entered in. The door shook with his push, and the wind from outside hurried its way open. It slammed, and drew eyes to his disruption. But he carried on as though unaware, closing the door behind him and then heading straight for the bar. The floor thumped under his boots. The sound of armor, and swords clinking. A black gauntlet reached up and drew down his hood.

His blond hair was a mess, several braids undone and tangled... and he was wet. His eyes were dark, the green of them hidden behind black circles. He was usually quite fair, but even moreso now, less radiant for his kind. But despite his exhaustion he was yet quite handsome, even rugged for one whose ears were so long.

He came to the bar, and took a seat on a stool.

Water dripped from him.

The barkeep approached. He was a large, bristled man, easily as tall as Erën, and a bit wider as well. He came near, looking and sounding somewhat sour - but only so much as one would expect. There was quite a rowdy crowd in tonight.

"What'll it be?"

Erën's eyes remained on the counter for a moment, then he slowly lifted them, looking past the man to the collection of spirits behind him. The his head dropped, and he gave a gentle shake.

"Just give me a drink...


...please."

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Odd, for an Elf.

​

The barkeep, Tormen, hovered there for a moment, quirking his brow up at the elf's indecision.

Just give me a drink? Fine.

He turned and walked some ways down the aisle. He reached to a large, dusty bottle. The bottle was clear, but the liquid within was so dark as to be almost black. He pursed his lips, trying to remember if he himself could recall what this tasted like exactly. He looked back, the elf's head still hung.

Not that he was particularily spiteful, but he did enjoy the thought of watching him recoil at the taste of this. He'd seen dwarves go white - and never watched an elf do it. But on his more compassionate side - it would certainly alleviate whatever it was that was quite blatantly on his mind.

He grabbed a glass, and started toward his new customer. On his way over he hollered at a few more vocal characters in the far corner, piping them down. Then he set the glass down, and poured it full. Waited...

​

Erën grasped it, and pulled it close. Hesitated. And then in one quick motion the drink was gone, and he slammed the glass down on the table. There was nothing at first.

Then.

Stars began to form in his peripheral. His throat, began to burn. His palms sweat, and too it beaded on his brow. He reeled back, and then abruptly leaned forward slapping his palm on the counter, letting out a hoarse cough.

By the... gods...
​

After a moment, he felt more comfortable. His limbs numbing, the soreness fading away. His head felt warm, and so too did his cheeks. His vision was slow, and stars still sparsely twinkled around its edge. He raised himself upright, adjusting himself.

He looked back to the door...

Then he motioned with his hand. Another.

 

[Faera Ayammetu]

This was a pleasant enough little Hamlet. The people weren't too nosey and the travelers were passively welcomed. In this torrential rain there was hardly a more heavenly sight than a sign reading, "The Pub".
Faera didn't travel alone, or rarely at least. But she traveled with two of her most trusted lieutenants. All of them wore heavy cloaks and deep hoods against the rain.
They stomped the mud off their boots before stepping into the warm establishment. It was a bit loud and rough, but respectable enough.

They shook the rain off their cloaks and pulled back their hoods. The two men were non-descript, uniform haircuts and stern expressions. But the lady stood out much more. Her own blond hair that used to be done up in a bun was in a bedraggled mess on her head, she was middle aged but all the same the way she held herself and the expression she wore was one of professionalism and dignity.

The two men went and picked out a table while the woman approached the bar and placed a gold piece on the counter.
"What do you have for three thirsty and hungry travelers that's worth a gold piece?"
She glanced at the similarly bedraggled elf and adjusted her glasses. Not a bad looking sort, in spite of his gloomy exterior.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Just as he'd motioned, three more travelers made themselves known - scuffing their boots off outside. Though, with his hearing he was likely one of the few who heard them before they entered. He watched them file in, then he turned on his seat to see a second drink poured - but the barkeep held it. Erën nodded, pulling some coin from a pocket at his side. He slid it onto the table, and took the bottle. Then he took the glass.

"What do you have for three thirsty and hungry travelers that's worth a gold piece?"

Erën drank - his second reaction a little less aggressive than the first. Immediately after, he poured another glass.

"Hmm," said Tormen, turning his attention to the tall lady adjacent to the elf. He looked up at her, impressed by her stature. He looked over to her men, nodding. Then finally, to the gold piece.

"Tell you what, this poor son of a bitch just gave be enough for whole night. Here," he said, handing her a bottle of some fairly decent spirit, "thank that sap," he whispered, inclining his head to elf now to his back, then he carried on to count his acquired currency - gold, jewel, and gemstone. A killing - for that shitty bottle!

Ahh, jokes on him.

 

[Faera Ayammetu]

She shrugged and picked up the gold and bottles. She moved over by the elf and leaned against the counter, opened the bottle and examined the contents. "I suppose it's you that I get to thank for a free drink. Though you don't seem to be in the mood for a celebration. Mind if I join you anyways? Socialize with an old lady and do your good deed for the day?"
She chucked the other bottle across the room where one of her men caught it and began serving their own drinks.

She pulled a stool over with her boot and sat down without waiting for him to accept or decline her company. She took a long drink from the bottle before returning her attention to her new friend.
"Don't see so many elves anymore, unless I'm more blind than I thought. What brings you to a human settlement?"

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

He nodded. He knew full well what he'd handed the barkeep. And the man would do well to provide him with whatever he asked for - or there could be trouble. Little matter though: all he wanted, was his drink.

But at the mention of her joining him, he tensed, tempted to protest. But the lady was swift, and had pulled herself a seat before he could really voice any concern. He chose to leave it, preferring not to be bothered with any potential disagreements. He was an elf, placed around others. He was the odd one out. Why bother?

"Your eyes serve you well," he nodded, taking from his drink. The taste was distant now, the effects of it beginning to take hold. Subtly for now.

"Bhathairk," he said, "a battle there.

It is finished."

True. The Amalgamation had drawn him back to the Spine, but he could have left weeks ago now. He took another drink.

Faera Ayammetu ​

 

[Faera Ayammetu]

"Hm."
She grunted in response as she set down her bottle and removed a cigar from her coat. She put it between her teeth without lighting it.
"So you're on your way home then? It's been a good many years since I've visited Bhathairk. If there was a battle there then I assume it's people have begun to return, or have they been killed off again in this battle you speak of?"
She took out a tiny twig with an intricately carved rune on it and snapped it in her fingers, the broken wood lit up with a tiny flame that she used to light her cigar before the magic ran out.
She gave the cigar a drag and blew a small cloud before taking it out and turning to him again.

"One thing I've always wondered about elves. Do you simply live longer than humans? I've never seen an elf show any signs of age."
She leaned her elbow on the counter, her cigar sending a lazy trail of smoke up to the rafters to mingle with the rest.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

"No," he replied.

No, he did not have a home anymore. His severance from the collective was more than enough to affirm this to him, but there had also be more. He was no longer one with his people, and no longer did he had a place among them.

"No, I am... remaining here, for a time."

He had no need to leave the northern realms, in fact if anything he could probably do quite a bit more good here than he ever would trying to make his way back through Falwood into Sharyrdaes now. It was unlikely, at this point, that he would ever return. He watched her carry out her small ritual, lighting the cigar with a puff. With the mixture of the liquor on his own breath, and the other scents in the air, the smoke from Faera's cigar was actually quite pleasant. He almost soaked it in - it had been many years since he'd sat in the company of one enjoying such a luxury.

He managed a smile at the mention of their longevity, and he took a full drink from his glass, "there are some elves who do show age more than others... My kind are often devoid of spot or wrinkle, a very old lineage. But even in their final years, while their faces would be as mine, their eyes would turn gray, and their hair as well, and their strength - all as will be with me someday - will fade."

He turned his eyes to here, a once piercing stare a little less composed at this point, "and yes, we live for over a thousand years some of us - should the Gods bless us."

 

[Faera Ayammetu]

A thousand years. What knowledge must one gain from living a thousand years or longer... But it sounds so damn lonely. Even if everyone from your race lives as long as you do, you can hardly make any friends with another kind of person without fear of outliving them.
As for herself, she was advanced in age as well though she didn't look it. Some have thought she may have some elf heritage herself somewhere in her family line. She's aged well and managed to maintain a potion of fresh youthful beauty, though marked with maturity.
Though she's never bothered to trace her family line before.

She dragged on her cigar and blew another cloud of smoke before taking another drink.
"I wonder... If I were to live a thousand years, what would I do with that time? Make better investments? Increase my wealth? Kill monsters until the day I die?"
She shook her head, holding the cigar in her teeth as she gave him a sideways glance.
"No... Not for me I think. I take pride in growing old and look forward to retiring someday. I've been hunting monsters ever since I learned to swing a sword, but I would be damned if I die with a blade in my hand."
She held the cigar in her hand and reached into her pocket, noticing his reaction to her own cigar. She removed a small tin case from her coat and opened it, revealing a neat row of fine high quality cigars.
"Do you want one?"

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

"A thousand years can garner much good, or much evil. Sometimes I wonder if any creature should live so long..."

He pondered his own words, weighing them. He had begun to think that his long life had been far more a detriment to his being than a benefit. His younger years had been filled with much more joy... but then there were things that he had found only recently that maybe... perhaps... would alter these listless opinions. Making up his mind - regarding some things - was sometimes difficult.

"Do you want one?"

His eyes fell to the cigar - he had actually never partaken of such a thing. He'd smoke from a pipe before, but often very gentle herbs more geared toward healing than any kind of enjoyment or recreation. With all the changes he had experienced in his life as of late, his severance from the Order...

Why the hell not.

"I would like one, thank you," he said, taking the cigar with her cordially and nodding his thanks. He placed the cigar in his mouth, and then... looked to her, raising a brow.

Would you mind? His eyes danced to the cigar and then back to her. I could use a light.

Faera Ayammetu ​

 

[Faera Ayammetu]

She took out another stick and snapped it, the small flame lighting up the cigar.
"I agree with you there. I'm practically an old lady myself, younger than you no doubt, but already I've seen things I would rather forget. The fountain of youth was guarded to keep others from making the same mistakes the first people made. But they should have let everyone partake of it, so they could see for themselves their folly and teach their future generations the suffering of a long life."
She took another puff of her cigar.
"That's the responsibility I put on elven kind. You have practically endless lives, yet many of you do nothing to warn the world of what such long life brings."

She traded her cigar for another gulp of wine, the spirits were starting to get to her and she giggled to herself.
"It's funny... I hunted monsters for nearly thirty years and thought I would never get tired of it. I'm still not tired of it, but I'm not so foolish anymore. I look forward to living out the rest of my days quietly."

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën took in a respectable breath of the cigar, and was at least wise enough to remember from his many hours spent sitting in taverns over the course of his life journeying abroad throughout Arethil - not to overdo it. Inhaling the cigar quite so abruptly would be catastrophic, and though he managed to catch himself he did cough out a few modest puffs, before nodding his thanks with a hint of strain on his face.

He took a drink, and then another puff.

"Indeed, while I can't speak for the whole of elf-kind..." he inhaled, "the Order of Sharyrdaes for many ages maintained the old ways, of justice and peace in the land. But they were... beleaguered.." he waved his hand. The Eventide was less and less a painful memory since his severance from the collective. And mixed with the drink and smoke, even less so again, "I myself have lived over 600 years," another sip of his drink, "for many years, I would plea to be heard by those who would not listen. Eventually... all people learn on their own - or they don't."

There was a particular cruelty in his last few words, not directed toward her but... certainly evident, "but then there are those like yourself" he said offering a smile, tipping the cigar to her, "a shame you're not an elf. One with your wisdom would do well to be blessed with long life... perhaps you would be heard."

Faera Ayammetu ​

 

[Faera Ayammetu]

She chuckled, holding her cigar to the side.
"I'm flattered. But as I said, I take pride in my age, and comfort in knowing that my life won't stagger out for all eternity."
She leaned forward on her elbows, letting out a stream of smoke.
"When all is said and done... I don't suppose I care all that much. Even if I had faith in my own race it has nothing to do with me, whether they learn and improve as a whole or destroy themselves utterly. Far too many fools and too few good people to make an optimistic balance."
She crushed out her cigar on an ash tray.
"I'll be dead and gone before anything meaningful changes for good or ill. And I find that comforting."

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

His smile turned to one of amusement, and his eyes turned to his glass. He sat silently for a moment, pondering her words.

"Indeed," he said, the words coming slowly at first, his smile fading away, "and what would you suppose is...

...meaningful?"

Faera Ayammetu​