- Messages
- 260
- Character Biography
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The Merchant District of Elbion was known to be the nexus of trade across the known world, playing host to permanent shops of all descriptions. Everything from the cheapest piece of scrap to the most expensive cut of the finest gemstone, from the commonplace to the wholly esoteric, could be found there. But tucked away into a quiet corner near the ivory towers of the College District hid an unassuming establishment. A sign listed the tavern’s title as “The Seven Stars”, and most of Elbion’s natives knew that the bar served primarily as a discreet location for the College’s promising pupils to gather and get absolutely rowdy. Thirteen windows sat high along the tavern’s four walls, and a series of seven columns placed sporadically around the interior dispersed arcane energies quite readily.
On this night in particular, one of the large corner tables traditionally reserved for the dark and brooding types had its seats filled by a number of robed students, most listening attentively to the story of one of their apparent peers. Faurosk stood over the table, gesticulating broadly as he brought his recounting of the Battle of the Red Mist to its conclusion.
“So, I did the only thing I could, and I stepped up and said, “Come on, everyone, let’s get the hell out of here.” Then I slapped a charge big enough to slingshot us Lessat into that weird portal stone from before, and, bam, I was back in the world of the living! Not too much worse for wear, either, if I can take the liberty to say so.” He flopped back into his seat with a sense of finality, though the reaction to the story’s end wasn’t quite what he’d hoped for. His retelling was met with a mixed response of apathy and outright disbelief, and before long, the mage found himself back at the bar proper, drowning his sorrowful storytelling abilities with a strong drink.
He took a deep draw from his newly refilled tankard, swallowing it hard. “Yeah, well, guess y’just had to be there...”
Himitsu
On this night in particular, one of the large corner tables traditionally reserved for the dark and brooding types had its seats filled by a number of robed students, most listening attentively to the story of one of their apparent peers. Faurosk stood over the table, gesticulating broadly as he brought his recounting of the Battle of the Red Mist to its conclusion.
“So, I did the only thing I could, and I stepped up and said, “Come on, everyone, let’s get the hell out of here.” Then I slapped a charge big enough to slingshot us Lessat into that weird portal stone from before, and, bam, I was back in the world of the living! Not too much worse for wear, either, if I can take the liberty to say so.” He flopped back into his seat with a sense of finality, though the reaction to the story’s end wasn’t quite what he’d hoped for. His retelling was met with a mixed response of apathy and outright disbelief, and before long, the mage found himself back at the bar proper, drowning his sorrowful storytelling abilities with a strong drink.
He took a deep draw from his newly refilled tankard, swallowing it hard. “Yeah, well, guess y’just had to be there...”
Himitsu