Part I: Shadow Fall
The sun sets over the harbor. A lone figure of a man stands on the docks, like a stone statue. He looks out before him, through his pale brown eyes with all brightness of their youth long forgotten. His gaze falls on his shadow standing long before him. Time seems to have stopped, the winds cease to blow, and for a moment it would seem even the sun hesitates along its downward path towards the horizon. He would tell himself that his shadow would never again fall on these lands, but deep inside he always knew he would find his way back.
The man steps forward. Like a painting, come to life, a world frozen in time returns to its usual pace. A light breeze rustles through the trees. It would be dark by the time he reached town, and shadows wouldn't matter anymore.
His pace is slow, and as he reaches the gates the sun remains just a sliver on the horizon. As he approaches he pulls his cloak tighter around himself, and covers his head in a grey hood, hiding his features. Even though the evening is not particularly cold, the man trembles as he walks through the gates, and into the streets. The same streets he walked so long ago. A lump builds in his throat. Why am I here? He suddenly turns back. This is all just a dream. He expects to see himself resting under a tree, in a cave, or in a small room at some inn, but he sees only the city gates, with his shadow cast upon them. He swallows the lump and continues forward.
The town is familiar to him, yet the passing of many years have brought change. The faces of those he once knew flash before his memories. Many now lay beneath the earth. He did not care to see the rest. There is little likelihood they would have recognized him anymore anyway. He had lived a hard life, and it showed on his face. Under his eye lay dark circles, and his face turned to a pale grey. In the early years since leaving the island, he would sometimes spend more time drunk then sober. Sleeping in the streets or out in the wilderness, when his copper rain out didn’t help much. But in the end it would be the poison running through his veins, which would take the biggest toll.
As he walks on the streets grow dark with the setting sun. This is foolish he thinks to himself. I've spent most of my life in and out of more places than this, why should I return? Then, for one of the few times he could remember, the answer came to him almost immediately.
Because, this is where it all changed for you.
The Wanderer
Moderator: Gamemasters
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Ezor Edwickton
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The Wanderer
Last edited by Ezor Edwickton on Wed Dec 22, 2010 6:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Ezor Edwickton
- Posts: 679
- Joined: Mon Jul 28, 2003 5:23 am
- Location: Canada
Part II The meeting: A Final Farewell
The night air was cold. It was late and the last of the customers had vacated the old tavern. Hunched down and sitting all alone by the fireplace sat the wanderer. He kept his hood on as not to be disturbed. If there was warmth to be had inside these walls it did not reach him. The coals were burning low and the light danced in his eyes as he sat solemnly, like a priest before the altar. Being here brought back memories of days long past, but he was not fully prepared for the past to walk in on him after all these years.
Her goblet fell to her feet when she first saw him, spilling its contents and splashing the sandals on her feet. There she stood, like she had just seen a ghost. Though over a decade and a half had past she still looked just as beautiful to him, as the he first laid eyes on her. Her skin is beautiful and pale as ashes. Her long, dark wavy hair frames her oval face and runs down her back. He remembered her every feature so well, but it was those brown eyes he remembered the most. He could never forget those eyes for they had haunted his dreams. He tried running from those memories or drowning them away with ale in shady taverns, but he could never escape long.
“Ezor?” she says recognizing him despite his haggard appearance.
He had changed much since the last time she had seen him. His hazel eyes were now hollow with dark circles beneath from lack of sleep. His once olive skin now a sickly pale and his face outlined with wrinkles from age. His dark hair also showing strands of grey.
“I have not gone by that name for a long time,” he says tonelessly, as he looks back at her.
“Are you real?” Breaking hold of the spell she was caught under she steps forward. “I never thought I would ever see you again.”
“I the same.”
“I mean…I never thought you would come back.”
Ezor lowers his head back towards the fireplace and replies darkly, “I never planed to.”
“May I sit?” she asks placing a dainty hand up the chair beside him.
He nods and she gathers her thin white linen dress in her hands lowering herself to the seat beside him. All the while her eyes do not leave his face.
“It’s been a long time,” he continues void of expression.
“You look older.”
“Aye, we all do.”
“Do I?” she asks brushing the dark hair from her face, giving him a somewhat clever half-smile.
Ezor turn to her again, while producing a small pipe from inside his coat, “Aye, but the years have treated you well.” He puts some dry leaves in the pipe and lights it with an old flint.
“I…I can’t believe you are here. Why…have you returned?”
He takes a draw from his pipe and replies, “Fate it would seem.”
“I think the last time we spoke it was not so civil.”
“We had quite a tiff, but time heals old wounds.”
“Most,” she corrects.
“It’s the scars we don’t forget.”
“I cannot say that I am displeased that you are here.”
“I thought of you at times.”
“I would be lying if I did not say the same,” she says eagerly. “Were they thoughts of anger?”
Ezor lets a moment pass before answering, “At first. Aye, but in the end it’s the better days you remember most.”
Her lips curve into a small smile, “That is true. It would seem we have much to catch up on.”
He takes another long draw from the pipe, puffing out a cloud of white smoke as he speaks, “Much has happened.”
“Yes, quite a bit. Have you family? Children?”
Shaking his head he answers, “None I know of. A few years after I left, I did meet someone again.” He pauses seeming to try and recall, “But it didn’t last, and we drifted apart.” Ezor lets out a violent cough. “I drank a lot in those days. Was the only way I knew how to deal with it all.”
“Do you speak of what happened between us?” She watches him closely as he nods. “I…that is best left in the past,” she says offering him a small smile.
“Aye”
“Your closure must be long past.” She says then laughs softly, almost forced.
“Like you said, a lot has happened,” Ezor says flatly.
She clears her throat and speaks, “This feels almost familiar.
“For many years this was the last place I wanted to be.”
She tilts her head, “How does it feel? Being back here?”
“It feels so familiar. Given a thousand years to live I would not forget it. I’d walk the streets in my dreams.”
Frowning now she says, “Now you walk them in reality.” After pausing in thought she asks, “I would have thought you to be a bit more surprised at seeing me. I mean…I must seem to have stepped out of the past.”
“Maybe stepped out, but you can’t erase it.”
“There is too much good in my past to erase it.” She hesitates, “You were the first person to even look in my direction once I stepped foot into town.”
“You never used to be so seclusive,” he says with a raise brow.
She smoothes her hands down her dress and considers how to go on. “Well…much more has happened than we have spoken of.” She offers him a forced smile.
A short coughing fit comes over Ezor. She tilts her head to the side, leaning forward and inquires, “You are thin. Have you not eaten?”
“Don’t worry about me, it’s nothing that can be helped now.”
She nods, not understanding what he meant by this but accepts it and continues on. “In either case, you know me,” she says choosing her words carefully. “I am not always a…well woman…”
“If you’d rather not…” he interjects, raising a hand.
“I would rather not,” she says, relaxing again.
“The past doesn’t matter now”
“How long does your stay here last?”
Ezor draws deeply on his pipe. He pauses a long moment before exhaling. “I’m dying Irania”
He told her of the slow poison running through his veins. The same poison which took the life of his sister. They went on to offer each other condolences for the mistakes of the past, but it didn’t seem to bring him much comfort. Death was his only hope of comfort now. The past could not be undone, and a lifetime wasted would never be redeemed. Yet there was a small amount of comfort just to see her one more time.
Soon it became time for him to go.
“Even hundreds of years from now, I will still think of you...fondly I mean,” Irania says.
Ezor shakes his head slowly. “I would have you forget,” he says as he rises from his chair. “Forget me. If I could go back I would walk right past you.”
“I wouldn’t,” she quickly replies.
“And that would be your folly. I cut you deep”
Irania’s eyes narrow. “You speak as though I ruined your entire life.”
“No, you don’t see. I was bad for you.”
“Only because you weren’t here,” she replies, as she stands to meet him face to face.
“And when I came back?”
Irania’s voice grows a little louder. “You threw a tantrum over a mistake that shouldn’t have happened. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, but you could have tried to see things from my point of view.”
Ezor raises a hand, “let’s not dig to deep into the past now. I’m just saying you deserved better than I could give you.”
“Now you’ve finally come back, and it is to die,” she frowns once more.
“If it brings you comfort than remember me.” Ezor says turning towards the door. “I must go now.”
“Of course” she says quietly.
Ezor slowly begins to walk across the room.
“Ezor.”
He stops to look back at her.
“Is it the last time I will ever see you again?”
With his head low he replies, “You will not see me again. For this I must go alone.”
“Why?”
“It is the way I lived and I would have it no other way in death.”
“If you are sure.” A look of worry crosses her face, “I am afraid.”
“Before now I could have already been dead for all you know. Why does it matter now?”
“You were too strong for that. In my eyes anyway.”
“Your eyes deceived you. I’ve always been too weak.”
“You are you own worst enemy,” she says in a small voice.
The edge of his lip curls ever so slightly into a cold grin, the first sign of any emotion at all. “I know.”
Irania suddenly moves towards him, embracing him firmly despite her size. At first he just stands there, as if not knowing what to do, before wrapping her in his arms.
“Goodbye Irania,” he whispers in her ear.
“Goodbye Ezor. I loved you best, hm?” She says as she releases him.
Looking into her eyes, Ezor reaches out to touch her face, her skin is soft and warm to the touch. For a moment his burden seems almost lighter, “I never forgot about you.”
“Even in death?”
“Only time will tell,” he answers, lowering his hand back to his side.
Lowering her head she replies, “Thank you.”
Reluctantly Ezor turns to leave, “I wish I had better words of comfort.”
“You could not have chosen words more perfect,” she says, griping her skirt tightly.
“Just know that I’ll have finally found my peace.” he says as he pushes open the door.
“Wish me the same.”
“Aye,” is all he replies.
“I’ll love you always,” she cries out as she watches him walk out the door into the darkness and out of her life forever. When she sees him no more she looks down, releasing her dress and smoothing it out with her hands. Tears fall down her checks.
Outside Ezor pauses for a moment. Dare I look back? A cold chill grips him; no, remember her for what she was or remember her not. Soon all of it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Ezor leaves the city walls and walks down the road that would take him into the woods. He was glad to put his back to this town for the final time. It chilled his bones, and the streets were haunted by ghosts of the past. The poison was working faster now and would soon claim his life. No more would he travel from town to town, wandering aimlessly. He knew this journey would be his last. He would withdraw to the forest like an animal to die alone.
The night air was cold. It was late and the last of the customers had vacated the old tavern. Hunched down and sitting all alone by the fireplace sat the wanderer. He kept his hood on as not to be disturbed. If there was warmth to be had inside these walls it did not reach him. The coals were burning low and the light danced in his eyes as he sat solemnly, like a priest before the altar. Being here brought back memories of days long past, but he was not fully prepared for the past to walk in on him after all these years.
Her goblet fell to her feet when she first saw him, spilling its contents and splashing the sandals on her feet. There she stood, like she had just seen a ghost. Though over a decade and a half had past she still looked just as beautiful to him, as the he first laid eyes on her. Her skin is beautiful and pale as ashes. Her long, dark wavy hair frames her oval face and runs down her back. He remembered her every feature so well, but it was those brown eyes he remembered the most. He could never forget those eyes for they had haunted his dreams. He tried running from those memories or drowning them away with ale in shady taverns, but he could never escape long.
“Ezor?” she says recognizing him despite his haggard appearance.
He had changed much since the last time she had seen him. His hazel eyes were now hollow with dark circles beneath from lack of sleep. His once olive skin now a sickly pale and his face outlined with wrinkles from age. His dark hair also showing strands of grey.
“I have not gone by that name for a long time,” he says tonelessly, as he looks back at her.
“Are you real?” Breaking hold of the spell she was caught under she steps forward. “I never thought I would ever see you again.”
“I the same.”
“I mean…I never thought you would come back.”
Ezor lowers his head back towards the fireplace and replies darkly, “I never planed to.”
“May I sit?” she asks placing a dainty hand up the chair beside him.
He nods and she gathers her thin white linen dress in her hands lowering herself to the seat beside him. All the while her eyes do not leave his face.
“It’s been a long time,” he continues void of expression.
“You look older.”
“Aye, we all do.”
“Do I?” she asks brushing the dark hair from her face, giving him a somewhat clever half-smile.
Ezor turn to her again, while producing a small pipe from inside his coat, “Aye, but the years have treated you well.” He puts some dry leaves in the pipe and lights it with an old flint.
“I…I can’t believe you are here. Why…have you returned?”
He takes a draw from his pipe and replies, “Fate it would seem.”
“I think the last time we spoke it was not so civil.”
“We had quite a tiff, but time heals old wounds.”
“Most,” she corrects.
“It’s the scars we don’t forget.”
“I cannot say that I am displeased that you are here.”
“I thought of you at times.”
“I would be lying if I did not say the same,” she says eagerly. “Were they thoughts of anger?”
Ezor lets a moment pass before answering, “At first. Aye, but in the end it’s the better days you remember most.”
Her lips curve into a small smile, “That is true. It would seem we have much to catch up on.”
He takes another long draw from the pipe, puffing out a cloud of white smoke as he speaks, “Much has happened.”
“Yes, quite a bit. Have you family? Children?”
Shaking his head he answers, “None I know of. A few years after I left, I did meet someone again.” He pauses seeming to try and recall, “But it didn’t last, and we drifted apart.” Ezor lets out a violent cough. “I drank a lot in those days. Was the only way I knew how to deal with it all.”
“Do you speak of what happened between us?” She watches him closely as he nods. “I…that is best left in the past,” she says offering him a small smile.
“Aye”
“Your closure must be long past.” She says then laughs softly, almost forced.
“Like you said, a lot has happened,” Ezor says flatly.
She clears her throat and speaks, “This feels almost familiar.
“For many years this was the last place I wanted to be.”
She tilts her head, “How does it feel? Being back here?”
“It feels so familiar. Given a thousand years to live I would not forget it. I’d walk the streets in my dreams.”
Frowning now she says, “Now you walk them in reality.” After pausing in thought she asks, “I would have thought you to be a bit more surprised at seeing me. I mean…I must seem to have stepped out of the past.”
“Maybe stepped out, but you can’t erase it.”
“There is too much good in my past to erase it.” She hesitates, “You were the first person to even look in my direction once I stepped foot into town.”
“You never used to be so seclusive,” he says with a raise brow.
She smoothes her hands down her dress and considers how to go on. “Well…much more has happened than we have spoken of.” She offers him a forced smile.
A short coughing fit comes over Ezor. She tilts her head to the side, leaning forward and inquires, “You are thin. Have you not eaten?”
“Don’t worry about me, it’s nothing that can be helped now.”
She nods, not understanding what he meant by this but accepts it and continues on. “In either case, you know me,” she says choosing her words carefully. “I am not always a…well woman…”
“If you’d rather not…” he interjects, raising a hand.
“I would rather not,” she says, relaxing again.
“The past doesn’t matter now”
“How long does your stay here last?”
Ezor draws deeply on his pipe. He pauses a long moment before exhaling. “I’m dying Irania”
He told her of the slow poison running through his veins. The same poison which took the life of his sister. They went on to offer each other condolences for the mistakes of the past, but it didn’t seem to bring him much comfort. Death was his only hope of comfort now. The past could not be undone, and a lifetime wasted would never be redeemed. Yet there was a small amount of comfort just to see her one more time.
Soon it became time for him to go.
“Even hundreds of years from now, I will still think of you...fondly I mean,” Irania says.
Ezor shakes his head slowly. “I would have you forget,” he says as he rises from his chair. “Forget me. If I could go back I would walk right past you.”
“I wouldn’t,” she quickly replies.
“And that would be your folly. I cut you deep”
Irania’s eyes narrow. “You speak as though I ruined your entire life.”
“No, you don’t see. I was bad for you.”
“Only because you weren’t here,” she replies, as she stands to meet him face to face.
“And when I came back?”
Irania’s voice grows a little louder. “You threw a tantrum over a mistake that shouldn’t have happened. I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, but you could have tried to see things from my point of view.”
Ezor raises a hand, “let’s not dig to deep into the past now. I’m just saying you deserved better than I could give you.”
“Now you’ve finally come back, and it is to die,” she frowns once more.
“If it brings you comfort than remember me.” Ezor says turning towards the door. “I must go now.”
“Of course” she says quietly.
Ezor slowly begins to walk across the room.
“Ezor.”
He stops to look back at her.
“Is it the last time I will ever see you again?”
With his head low he replies, “You will not see me again. For this I must go alone.”
“Why?”
“It is the way I lived and I would have it no other way in death.”
“If you are sure.” A look of worry crosses her face, “I am afraid.”
“Before now I could have already been dead for all you know. Why does it matter now?”
“You were too strong for that. In my eyes anyway.”
“Your eyes deceived you. I’ve always been too weak.”
“You are you own worst enemy,” she says in a small voice.
The edge of his lip curls ever so slightly into a cold grin, the first sign of any emotion at all. “I know.”
Irania suddenly moves towards him, embracing him firmly despite her size. At first he just stands there, as if not knowing what to do, before wrapping her in his arms.
“Goodbye Irania,” he whispers in her ear.
“Goodbye Ezor. I loved you best, hm?” She says as she releases him.
Looking into her eyes, Ezor reaches out to touch her face, her skin is soft and warm to the touch. For a moment his burden seems almost lighter, “I never forgot about you.”
“Even in death?”
“Only time will tell,” he answers, lowering his hand back to his side.
Lowering her head she replies, “Thank you.”
Reluctantly Ezor turns to leave, “I wish I had better words of comfort.”
“You could not have chosen words more perfect,” she says, griping her skirt tightly.
“Just know that I’ll have finally found my peace.” he says as he pushes open the door.
“Wish me the same.”
“Aye,” is all he replies.
“I’ll love you always,” she cries out as she watches him walk out the door into the darkness and out of her life forever. When she sees him no more she looks down, releasing her dress and smoothing it out with her hands. Tears fall down her checks.
Outside Ezor pauses for a moment. Dare I look back? A cold chill grips him; no, remember her for what she was or remember her not. Soon all of it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Ezor leaves the city walls and walks down the road that would take him into the woods. He was glad to put his back to this town for the final time. It chilled his bones, and the streets were haunted by ghosts of the past. The poison was working faster now and would soon claim his life. No more would he travel from town to town, wandering aimlessly. He knew this journey would be his last. He would withdraw to the forest like an animal to die alone.
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Ezor Edwickton
- Posts: 679
- Joined: Mon Jul 28, 2003 5:23 am
- Location: Canada
Part III Ezor Edwickton
Ezor knew the woods well and although they had been changed by the passing of time he still knew where it would be safe from both the beasts and any other travelers who might be out. His meager campsite consisted of little more than a fallen tree and a small clearing for a fire. His cloak was barely enough to shield him from the elements once the fire burnt low, but he didn’t care for comfort now. He didn’t deserve it. His muscles were weak, he felt a fever coming on and the scar on his shoulder where he had been cut with the poisoned dagger burned. The sibannac took care of some of the pain and also numbed his mind. He had no way to be sure, but he guessed that he only had weeks or even just days left and this small clearing would be where he spent his last days.
It was morning of his third day in exile; it had been another virtually sleepless night. It was not just the cold but his thoughts which kept him awake. He discovered the truth that he had heard many times in his younger years, that only at the end do you clearly see the beginning. Standing at the end of the road that was his life, he could look back clearly at the events that brought him to this point.
********************
Ezor was fifteen and his sister, Aleah no more than eleven when it happened. It was fall in their hometown of Korah and the first of the leaves had just started turning colour. Two officers from the army showed up at their door. They were carrying his father’s sword.
Korah had been at war with the neighbouring barbarians for years and his father Edan Edwickton was a general in the army. The officers said his father and a small attachment of men were cut off from the main fighting force and completely surrounded. They had fought bravely despite overwhelming odds but their determination could not keep them from being overrun in the end.
Ezor found out later that his father’s actions in the battle had allowed them to hold back the enemy forces long enough for the rest of the army to reinforce their broken lines. It became known as a pivotal point in the war and Edan would be known as a hero thereafter.
Ezor never knew much of his father, for these times of war took him away often to lead troops into battles often fought far from home. He remembered he was a strong yet gentle man and he cared much for his wife and children.
His mother, Arabella, took Edan’s death very hard. She was a strong woman and Ezor never saw her cry, yet there was something different about her after that day. It was as if her light had begun to fade. She would spend much time in her chamber or out by herself in the garden. A sorrow had settled over her since that day that she would never get a chance to shed.
A year and a half went by since the tragic news and she became very ill.
He remembered vividly a conversation he had with his mother as she lay in her sick bed one evening.
The afternoon sun shone in through the window of his mother’s chamber. From where she lay in bed she could look out upon the gardens, where Edan and her would often go for walks or just sit on a bench under the fruit trees and catch up on time lost while he was at the front lines.
Her golden hair seemed to shine in the sunlight and a smile met her lips as Ezor approached.
“Aleah seems so quiet these days, is she alright?” his mother asks.
“She doesn’t like seeing you like this mother, and she says she misses father.”
“Tell her I’ll be fine and tell her father will never be far off as long as we remember him.”
“I will mother.”
Arabella smiles at him thoughtfully, “I see a lot of your father in you Ezor.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re brave and strong willed like he was and also just as uncompromising and at times stubborn.” She laughs lightly. “Oh, how I miss your father. He was a great man and you should be proud.”
“I am.”
You were wrong mother, Ezor thinks to himself now. I’m nothing like my father. Stubborn maybe, but I’m a fool and a coward and I lost my will long ago.
His mother never recovered from her illness, passing away months later. They would say that she died from a broken heart although Ezor wasn’t sure that were possible. She was gone none the less and he was left to take care of his sister.
Money was not an issue for his family was well off. His father’s pay left more than enough for them to continue on after he was gone and once the war ended Roland, a good friend of his father who had fought beside him many times, came by often to make sure they were alright.
Edan Edwickton was held in high regard amongst the people and gifts would often end up on their door step. Strangers Ezor never knew would stop him in the street as if he himself had been the hero he father had been. They received praise and thanks for what their father had done and the sacrifice he paid.
Ezor didn’t despise his father, he was quite proud of him, yet he was tired of living in his shadow, receiving the praise and glory for things he’d never done. When he turned eighteen he decided it was time to head out on his own. He had to forge his own way in life.
********************
“I’ll miss you,” Aleah says with glistening eyes. She stands in front of Ezor on the steps leading up to their front door.
“Don’t cry, I’ll be back and I won’t forget to write.” Ezor says reassuringly.
“Will you take fathers sword?”
“No, that belongs here.”
“Be safe and don’t get hurt or I’ll be mad at you.”
“Always. Don’t worry about me I can take care of myself.” Ezor gives her a firm hug, “I’ll miss you too Aleah. You be good while I’m gone.”
She sniffs, wiping her eyes “Have fun Ezor, and may the gods guide your path.”
And so off went young doe-eyed Ezor with only his coat and small bag of belongings, to see the world, ready for any adventure that would cross his path.
His travels would take him too far of lands where he would make acquaintances of all sorts. Never settling in one place long, always looking for new experiences and adventure; Everything from inadvertently stumbling upon a dragon’s lair while on a gold hunting expedition with dwarves to experiencing the famed crocodile festival in Gynk.
When his coppers ran out he would find odd jobs around whatever settlement or town he found himself. He would stay for various lengths of time in the places he visited; anywhere from days all the way up to over a year in some cases. But it wasn’t until his found himself on the Island of Gobiath that he found himself a place to call home again, in the town of Trolls Bane.
Ezor was never overly social but the friends he had he kept close. He found himself in good company on the island and despite the hard times that had come over the land at the time including the Great Famine, and the ongoing conflict with the north, he really found the place to his liking. Things were going well, and it wasn’t long before he met her.
********************
He was with the elf Deies Eldermore that day, he remembers him quite clearly now. He liked Deies in those days, they didn’t always see eye to eye, and Ezor would often wonder why he choose to give up his life in what he always thought was a foolish endeavor. What was he thinking marching up to Darloks castle in Northerot? But these were earlier days and his mind wasn’t full of noble ideas ending in suicidal quests. No his mind was on other things. After all it was Deies him who saw her first.
There she sat on an old stump with her head in her hands and her dark hair fallen over her face. She was crying. Deies ran to her side with Ezor following close behind.
“What is wrong? Are you hurt” Deies knelt down beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
Ezor stood back and watched.
She looked up wiping tears from her eyes a little startled by the newcomers. “I…I just arrived here…” she sniffed, brushing her wavy hair from her face. “…and it’s been a terrible day! I was attacked by those mummies and lost all my things.”
“Come with us, we can help you,” Ezor says from back where he stood. “What is your name?”
She looks to him will big brown eyes, “Irania.”
They brought her in and provided her with enough provisions to get back on her feet. Later Ezor showed her around the town. Deies may have seen her first but Ezor was quick to steal her away. From the moment he first laid eyes on her he was captivated.
She was so young back then. Her smooth pale skin contrasted with her beautiful dark wavy hair and her eyes, still full of youthful bliss. He found himself quickly falling helplessly in love with her, and she with him.
He remembered the time they had a picnic near the southern woods and they lay on the cool grass for hours, infatuated with one another and their talk was full of silly adorations as it is with young lovers.
The summer’s sun was high in the sky. The Great Famine was now over and the forests had begun to grow back. Birds could be heard singing their merry songs as they flew overhead.
The setting was perfect yet easily lost by the two lovers whose minds were elsewhere.
“Do you love me Ezor?” Irania says laying on her back with a playful grin.
“You know I love you.”
She giggles, “If all the stars were to fall from the sky and the world was torn apart, would you love me still?”
“I would love you still” replies Ezor rolling to his side to face her.
“What if we were ever apart? Would you still love me then?”
“No distance, time or circumstance could stop me from loving you. I’ll love you if ever we are apart, I’ll love you in a thousand years, and I’ll love you when you turn old and wrinkly.”
She now turns over her brown eyes meeting his gaze, and then scrunches her nose and stick out her tongue at him. They both laugh.
It wasn’t long after that day Ezor walked into the Fluffy Sheep Tavern grinning from ear to ear. “I have something to tell you guys.”
Aristeaus and Athian were sitting at the bar turning to look at him as he walked in the door.
“I’m getting married!”
“Congratulations Ezor” says Aristeaus.
“Who’s the unlucky lady,” replies Athian, knowing full well who he meant, inciting laughter from the others. “I guess I owe you 20 coppers Arist.”
“You made a bet?” Ezor says sitting down at the bar to join them.
“Here here” says Aristeaus sliding a fresh mug of ale down the bar towards Ezor. They raise their mugs in celebration.
Plans for the wedding were underway. Ezor had even booked the upper room of the library for the reception party. Life was great and the future looked bright but storm clouds were forming on the horizon. The bright future would soon be fading as things were about to take a turn for the worst. It all started with a letter from home. His sister Aleah had fallen ill. Ezor made plans to set sail for the mainland as soon as he could, saying farewell to Irania and the friends he’d leave behind.
********************
“I will miss you. I will send letters as soon as I arrive. I will not forget you. Look to the moons at night, and know that perhaps if even just for a moment we both gaze upon them together. I love you and I will return.” Looking into Irania’s eyes Ezor smiles, trying to mask the pain of leaving her, and kisses her once more.
As the ship drifts from the harbor Ezor watches Irania’s figure on the pier as it gets smaller and smaller. He continues to stand on the deck and watch as the entire island slowly vanishes from sight. The breeze on the open sea is chilling and his heart already longs to return.
They landed in the port town of Falmarha a place he knew well, he had spent much time here in the past. The rest of the trip would take him far inland, past Salkamar, Laris, Nubris and then across the Eris Sea which would take him to his hometown of Korah.
********************
Aleah lay asleep now in her sick bed. Ezor sat in a chair close by waiting for her to awake. The journey home had been long and his sister’s sickness had grown worse. Her cheeks were no longer the cherry red they had been when he had last seen her years ago. Her skin was now pale. She looked to him like a ghost, with all the life taken from her.
He had returned to Korah only once since his initial departure, and many years had passed since then. He wondered now why he hadn’t returned sooner, if only just for a short time. She was no longer just a young girl, she was now a lady, yet still far too young for her life to be snatched away. She was unmarried and still had her whole life ahead of her, full of hopes and dreams. She could not go this way.
She began to stir. Ezor quickly moved to her side.
“Aleah.”
She turned to him and opened her eyes, “…Ezor? Is that really you?” She says weakly. A faint smile playing on her lips.
“I’m sorry I could not arrive sooner. I came as quickly as I could,” he said grabbing hold of her hand. Ezor pauses with so many thoughts running through his head, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry I never visited more often. I should have come back to see you more then I had.”
“Stop apologizing. You’re here now that’s all that matters.”
“You’ll get better Aleah. Promise me you’ll get better.” He says as a tear falls down his cheak.
“I Promise you Ezor.” She smiles back at him. “Now tell me of you travels, and of this girl you write to me about.”
Several weeks went by and Aleah didn’t get better.
She died.
How could this happen? I should have been there. I could have prevented this. These thoughts would haunt Ezor now and in the despairing years to come.
Ezor stayed in Korah for some time after Aleah’s passing. He tried to catch up a little with some old friends but they had drifted apart over the years and his sister’s death still weighed heavily on him. Aleah had been staying in their parent’s house and Ezor had everything put under his father’s old friend Roland’s keeping.
Through all this he had found himself without much time to write letters to Irania as often as he had hoped he would. When all his affairs were taken care of his thoughts once again returned to her as a silver lining to the dark clouds which hung overhead.
He once again took to the road on his journey back to Gobiath. The long trip provided much time to begin to accept Aleah’s death. He spent a lot time to himself on the return trip and longed to return to Gobiath, to his friends and to Irania. Everything would be alright once he was back with her. It had been so long now since he had seen her. He longed so much to hold her once more, to feel the warmth of her body against his own and to get lost in those beautiful brown eyes. He would waste no time in marrying her once he returned. Gobiath was his home now and together they would spend the rest of their days.
None of this was to be so. Although the stars would still stay fixed in the sky, his world was soon to be torn apart.
********************
Quinasa the elfess, Irania’s step sister was the first to spot him when he returned to Trolls Bane.
“Oh, Ezor.” Her tone was unsettling.
“Quin. How are you?” He was glad to see a familiar face once more and rushed to greet her.
“…You…you are back.” He could tell something was wrong now. It was written all over her face.
“What is it?”
“She thought you were gone Ezor. She thought she’d never see you again.”
Ezor could feel himself growing faint. Everything spun before his eyes. What has she done? I have to see Irania. He ran off leaving the elfess behind. He caught up with Irania on the street.
She looked a little shocked to see him again but there was something else. He could see it in her eyes as she lowered her head. It was shame. “Where have you been?” she cried with anger in her voice. “I thought you were never coming back.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I have slept with Athian.”
Ezor knew the woods well and although they had been changed by the passing of time he still knew where it would be safe from both the beasts and any other travelers who might be out. His meager campsite consisted of little more than a fallen tree and a small clearing for a fire. His cloak was barely enough to shield him from the elements once the fire burnt low, but he didn’t care for comfort now. He didn’t deserve it. His muscles were weak, he felt a fever coming on and the scar on his shoulder where he had been cut with the poisoned dagger burned. The sibannac took care of some of the pain and also numbed his mind. He had no way to be sure, but he guessed that he only had weeks or even just days left and this small clearing would be where he spent his last days.
It was morning of his third day in exile; it had been another virtually sleepless night. It was not just the cold but his thoughts which kept him awake. He discovered the truth that he had heard many times in his younger years, that only at the end do you clearly see the beginning. Standing at the end of the road that was his life, he could look back clearly at the events that brought him to this point.
********************
Ezor was fifteen and his sister, Aleah no more than eleven when it happened. It was fall in their hometown of Korah and the first of the leaves had just started turning colour. Two officers from the army showed up at their door. They were carrying his father’s sword.
Korah had been at war with the neighbouring barbarians for years and his father Edan Edwickton was a general in the army. The officers said his father and a small attachment of men were cut off from the main fighting force and completely surrounded. They had fought bravely despite overwhelming odds but their determination could not keep them from being overrun in the end.
Ezor found out later that his father’s actions in the battle had allowed them to hold back the enemy forces long enough for the rest of the army to reinforce their broken lines. It became known as a pivotal point in the war and Edan would be known as a hero thereafter.
Ezor never knew much of his father, for these times of war took him away often to lead troops into battles often fought far from home. He remembered he was a strong yet gentle man and he cared much for his wife and children.
His mother, Arabella, took Edan’s death very hard. She was a strong woman and Ezor never saw her cry, yet there was something different about her after that day. It was as if her light had begun to fade. She would spend much time in her chamber or out by herself in the garden. A sorrow had settled over her since that day that she would never get a chance to shed.
A year and a half went by since the tragic news and she became very ill.
He remembered vividly a conversation he had with his mother as she lay in her sick bed one evening.
The afternoon sun shone in through the window of his mother’s chamber. From where she lay in bed she could look out upon the gardens, where Edan and her would often go for walks or just sit on a bench under the fruit trees and catch up on time lost while he was at the front lines.
Her golden hair seemed to shine in the sunlight and a smile met her lips as Ezor approached.
“Aleah seems so quiet these days, is she alright?” his mother asks.
“She doesn’t like seeing you like this mother, and she says she misses father.”
“Tell her I’ll be fine and tell her father will never be far off as long as we remember him.”
“I will mother.”
Arabella smiles at him thoughtfully, “I see a lot of your father in you Ezor.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re brave and strong willed like he was and also just as uncompromising and at times stubborn.” She laughs lightly. “Oh, how I miss your father. He was a great man and you should be proud.”
“I am.”
You were wrong mother, Ezor thinks to himself now. I’m nothing like my father. Stubborn maybe, but I’m a fool and a coward and I lost my will long ago.
His mother never recovered from her illness, passing away months later. They would say that she died from a broken heart although Ezor wasn’t sure that were possible. She was gone none the less and he was left to take care of his sister.
Money was not an issue for his family was well off. His father’s pay left more than enough for them to continue on after he was gone and once the war ended Roland, a good friend of his father who had fought beside him many times, came by often to make sure they were alright.
Edan Edwickton was held in high regard amongst the people and gifts would often end up on their door step. Strangers Ezor never knew would stop him in the street as if he himself had been the hero he father had been. They received praise and thanks for what their father had done and the sacrifice he paid.
Ezor didn’t despise his father, he was quite proud of him, yet he was tired of living in his shadow, receiving the praise and glory for things he’d never done. When he turned eighteen he decided it was time to head out on his own. He had to forge his own way in life.
********************
“I’ll miss you,” Aleah says with glistening eyes. She stands in front of Ezor on the steps leading up to their front door.
“Don’t cry, I’ll be back and I won’t forget to write.” Ezor says reassuringly.
“Will you take fathers sword?”
“No, that belongs here.”
“Be safe and don’t get hurt or I’ll be mad at you.”
“Always. Don’t worry about me I can take care of myself.” Ezor gives her a firm hug, “I’ll miss you too Aleah. You be good while I’m gone.”
She sniffs, wiping her eyes “Have fun Ezor, and may the gods guide your path.”
And so off went young doe-eyed Ezor with only his coat and small bag of belongings, to see the world, ready for any adventure that would cross his path.
His travels would take him too far of lands where he would make acquaintances of all sorts. Never settling in one place long, always looking for new experiences and adventure; Everything from inadvertently stumbling upon a dragon’s lair while on a gold hunting expedition with dwarves to experiencing the famed crocodile festival in Gynk.
When his coppers ran out he would find odd jobs around whatever settlement or town he found himself. He would stay for various lengths of time in the places he visited; anywhere from days all the way up to over a year in some cases. But it wasn’t until his found himself on the Island of Gobiath that he found himself a place to call home again, in the town of Trolls Bane.
Ezor was never overly social but the friends he had he kept close. He found himself in good company on the island and despite the hard times that had come over the land at the time including the Great Famine, and the ongoing conflict with the north, he really found the place to his liking. Things were going well, and it wasn’t long before he met her.
********************
He was with the elf Deies Eldermore that day, he remembers him quite clearly now. He liked Deies in those days, they didn’t always see eye to eye, and Ezor would often wonder why he choose to give up his life in what he always thought was a foolish endeavor. What was he thinking marching up to Darloks castle in Northerot? But these were earlier days and his mind wasn’t full of noble ideas ending in suicidal quests. No his mind was on other things. After all it was Deies him who saw her first.
There she sat on an old stump with her head in her hands and her dark hair fallen over her face. She was crying. Deies ran to her side with Ezor following close behind.
“What is wrong? Are you hurt” Deies knelt down beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
Ezor stood back and watched.
She looked up wiping tears from her eyes a little startled by the newcomers. “I…I just arrived here…” she sniffed, brushing her wavy hair from her face. “…and it’s been a terrible day! I was attacked by those mummies and lost all my things.”
“Come with us, we can help you,” Ezor says from back where he stood. “What is your name?”
She looks to him will big brown eyes, “Irania.”
They brought her in and provided her with enough provisions to get back on her feet. Later Ezor showed her around the town. Deies may have seen her first but Ezor was quick to steal her away. From the moment he first laid eyes on her he was captivated.
She was so young back then. Her smooth pale skin contrasted with her beautiful dark wavy hair and her eyes, still full of youthful bliss. He found himself quickly falling helplessly in love with her, and she with him.
He remembered the time they had a picnic near the southern woods and they lay on the cool grass for hours, infatuated with one another and their talk was full of silly adorations as it is with young lovers.
The summer’s sun was high in the sky. The Great Famine was now over and the forests had begun to grow back. Birds could be heard singing their merry songs as they flew overhead.
The setting was perfect yet easily lost by the two lovers whose minds were elsewhere.
“Do you love me Ezor?” Irania says laying on her back with a playful grin.
“You know I love you.”
She giggles, “If all the stars were to fall from the sky and the world was torn apart, would you love me still?”
“I would love you still” replies Ezor rolling to his side to face her.
“What if we were ever apart? Would you still love me then?”
“No distance, time or circumstance could stop me from loving you. I’ll love you if ever we are apart, I’ll love you in a thousand years, and I’ll love you when you turn old and wrinkly.”
She now turns over her brown eyes meeting his gaze, and then scrunches her nose and stick out her tongue at him. They both laugh.
It wasn’t long after that day Ezor walked into the Fluffy Sheep Tavern grinning from ear to ear. “I have something to tell you guys.”
Aristeaus and Athian were sitting at the bar turning to look at him as he walked in the door.
“I’m getting married!”
“Congratulations Ezor” says Aristeaus.
“Who’s the unlucky lady,” replies Athian, knowing full well who he meant, inciting laughter from the others. “I guess I owe you 20 coppers Arist.”
“You made a bet?” Ezor says sitting down at the bar to join them.
“Here here” says Aristeaus sliding a fresh mug of ale down the bar towards Ezor. They raise their mugs in celebration.
Plans for the wedding were underway. Ezor had even booked the upper room of the library for the reception party. Life was great and the future looked bright but storm clouds were forming on the horizon. The bright future would soon be fading as things were about to take a turn for the worst. It all started with a letter from home. His sister Aleah had fallen ill. Ezor made plans to set sail for the mainland as soon as he could, saying farewell to Irania and the friends he’d leave behind.
********************
“I will miss you. I will send letters as soon as I arrive. I will not forget you. Look to the moons at night, and know that perhaps if even just for a moment we both gaze upon them together. I love you and I will return.” Looking into Irania’s eyes Ezor smiles, trying to mask the pain of leaving her, and kisses her once more.
As the ship drifts from the harbor Ezor watches Irania’s figure on the pier as it gets smaller and smaller. He continues to stand on the deck and watch as the entire island slowly vanishes from sight. The breeze on the open sea is chilling and his heart already longs to return.
They landed in the port town of Falmarha a place he knew well, he had spent much time here in the past. The rest of the trip would take him far inland, past Salkamar, Laris, Nubris and then across the Eris Sea which would take him to his hometown of Korah.
********************
Aleah lay asleep now in her sick bed. Ezor sat in a chair close by waiting for her to awake. The journey home had been long and his sister’s sickness had grown worse. Her cheeks were no longer the cherry red they had been when he had last seen her years ago. Her skin was now pale. She looked to him like a ghost, with all the life taken from her.
He had returned to Korah only once since his initial departure, and many years had passed since then. He wondered now why he hadn’t returned sooner, if only just for a short time. She was no longer just a young girl, she was now a lady, yet still far too young for her life to be snatched away. She was unmarried and still had her whole life ahead of her, full of hopes and dreams. She could not go this way.
She began to stir. Ezor quickly moved to her side.
“Aleah.”
She turned to him and opened her eyes, “…Ezor? Is that really you?” She says weakly. A faint smile playing on her lips.
“I’m sorry I could not arrive sooner. I came as quickly as I could,” he said grabbing hold of her hand. Ezor pauses with so many thoughts running through his head, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry I never visited more often. I should have come back to see you more then I had.”
“Stop apologizing. You’re here now that’s all that matters.”
“You’ll get better Aleah. Promise me you’ll get better.” He says as a tear falls down his cheak.
“I Promise you Ezor.” She smiles back at him. “Now tell me of you travels, and of this girl you write to me about.”
Several weeks went by and Aleah didn’t get better.
She died.
How could this happen? I should have been there. I could have prevented this. These thoughts would haunt Ezor now and in the despairing years to come.
Ezor stayed in Korah for some time after Aleah’s passing. He tried to catch up a little with some old friends but they had drifted apart over the years and his sister’s death still weighed heavily on him. Aleah had been staying in their parent’s house and Ezor had everything put under his father’s old friend Roland’s keeping.
Through all this he had found himself without much time to write letters to Irania as often as he had hoped he would. When all his affairs were taken care of his thoughts once again returned to her as a silver lining to the dark clouds which hung overhead.
He once again took to the road on his journey back to Gobiath. The long trip provided much time to begin to accept Aleah’s death. He spent a lot time to himself on the return trip and longed to return to Gobiath, to his friends and to Irania. Everything would be alright once he was back with her. It had been so long now since he had seen her. He longed so much to hold her once more, to feel the warmth of her body against his own and to get lost in those beautiful brown eyes. He would waste no time in marrying her once he returned. Gobiath was his home now and together they would spend the rest of their days.
None of this was to be so. Although the stars would still stay fixed in the sky, his world was soon to be torn apart.
********************
Quinasa the elfess, Irania’s step sister was the first to spot him when he returned to Trolls Bane.
“Oh, Ezor.” Her tone was unsettling.
“Quin. How are you?” He was glad to see a familiar face once more and rushed to greet her.
“…You…you are back.” He could tell something was wrong now. It was written all over her face.
“What is it?”
“She thought you were gone Ezor. She thought she’d never see you again.”
Ezor could feel himself growing faint. Everything spun before his eyes. What has she done? I have to see Irania. He ran off leaving the elfess behind. He caught up with Irania on the street.
She looked a little shocked to see him again but there was something else. He could see it in her eyes as she lowered her head. It was shame. “Where have you been?” she cried with anger in her voice. “I thought you were never coming back.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I have slept with Athian.”
Last edited by Ezor Edwickton on Wed Dec 22, 2010 7:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Ezor Edwickton
- Posts: 679
- Joined: Mon Jul 28, 2003 5:23 am
- Location: Canada
Re: The Wanderer
Looking back at her again he notices something has changed. Her eyes have changed from blue to brown, Irania’s eyes; the woman he had once loved.
“Kill me! Kill me!” she pleads as the dream falls away and reality crashes in around it. Cecilos jolts awake in a cold sweat with her last cries still ringing in his ears.
((I'd like to apologize to the 2 or 3 of you who actually read this. I have been procrastination on this next part of the story. Its been taking so long partially because it is going to be much longer and in depth and partially because it has become intimidating. This next part is largely based on event that happened outside of the game so I have a little more freedom to get inside the characters heads without stepping on anybody's toes. I also find that I am able to go into greater detail.
Part 4: Cecilos starts off roughly 3 years from where we last left off. We begin in the city of Ann-Korr though the eyes of a new character, Sonara, who you will get to learn about right away. Some troubling events have happened to our hero, or better said, antihero since we last left off, further leading his life in a downward spiral. Ezor (who now calls himself Cecilos) has discovered that his sister did not die of natural causes but that she was murdered, but you already knew that if you were paying attention and will now be given the details. He quickly finds out that revenge is a blade that cuts both ways.
So what has happened in those 3 years since Ezor left Gobiath? Will his revenge on those who murdered his sister be complete? and will Sonara be able to heal the wounds of his past? You'll have to read to wait to find out because I am not quite done. I promise to put lots of work into this over the break and complete this part soon, but I don't want to post it if it's not ready. So here is the opening of part 4: Cecilos as a teaser, and to let you know that I have not forgotten about this and will complete it. What you are about to read is still subject to change as I do the final proof reading.))
Part VI Cecilos
The winters were always a bitter cold in Ann-Korr. The fall rains would turn to ice blanketing the cityscape. It was really coming down tonight. It was the first storm of the winter and if this were to be any indication, is was sure to be a frigid winter.
But inside it was warm. A single oil lamp illuminates a scantily decorated room. A grey cat walks across the table casting eerie shadows on the walls. Chattering could be heard from the lobby down below. It was late and some of the men had begun to filter out from the tavern across the road and into the old Inn. An old signboard overtop of the door to the tavern read Blue Ravens.
The men were never alone when they crossed over. They would stager out with some young girl under their arm, or even one under each at times. Thomas the innkeeper would rent out the rooms by the hour and would even rent the same room out as many as half a dozen times in an evening.
A woman sat in stillness looking out the window of her dimly lit room. She could still recall with clarity when she would have been among those escorting the men, who were all too willing to part with some coin for a night of company. Of course she was somewhat younger then. At 29 she was considered too old for the occupation especially when there were younger ones to be had. Thomas had been kind enough to let her stay, he was a gentle man and she had served his establishment well over the years.
The cat jumped up on her lap distracting her for a moment. Oliver, which was his name, was the stray cat she had adopted less than five years earlier. She rescued the poor thing behind the inn from some young boys who were throwing rocks at it. He was thin a raggedy looking so she brought him in, feed him and after that he just wouldn’t leave, not that she wanted him to leave. She had enjoyed the creatures company and had since grown quite fond of him and his company.
With Oliver now settled on her lap she returned her attention back to the window. It wasn’t the men or the girls that she watched tonight though. It was the vagrant. She had seen him on many such nights making his way into the tavern. He would stumble out once it got late, hardily able to stand sometimes not making it more than the alleyway before passing out. Other times he would just sit out front idly. Of course vagrants were no oddity in this part of Ann-Korr but there was something about him.
She had passed him on the street during the day twice and by all appearances he was just like any other homeless beggar, yet he seemed different, like he didn’t belong. There was a darkness about him, yet that wasn’t all. It was as if he was lost or looking for something, something that wasn’t there. She didn’t know if that something had ever been there, or could ever be found. She sensed this in him, though they had never once as much as acknowledged each other. It was written on his face, if one would take the time to look.
This night the vagrant did not follow his normal routine, or rather was unable too. From her window it was hard to say for sure but it appeared there and been a scuffle across the street. This one nothing out of the ordinary, brawls often broke out in the tavern. It would seem the vagrant had been at the receiving end of one such brawl for he had been tossed out and now lay in a pitiful heap on the side of the street. A guard passed by but the man laying face down on the wet ground didn’t seem to be of much concern to him. Poor thing she thought.
She pulled on her coat, grabbed a blanket and slipped down the hall.
********************
Smell was the first of his senses to return. It was the smell of cheap ale and tobacco at first then the more subtle fresh smell of the falling snow.
Next the feeling began to return and it was the cold wet feel of cobblestone touching his face along with a throbbing pain. It was hard to pinpoint where this was coming from. It felt like it was from all over. He had been punch or possibly clubbed. He remembered the face of the man who had started it but everything after that was hazy. The man spilt his drink, or it was possibly the other way around, things had a way of escalating rapidly as the night wore one.
Sounds followed close behind with the clamoring noise flowing out of the tavern, of songs sung horridly out of tune mixed with laughter, shouting and the stomping of feet.
Sight and taste came about thereafter; the former of cheap ale and blood, the latter of the dimly lit streets.
He pushed off the ground with his palms grunting slightly as he tried to get back to his feet when there was another sensation over his body. There was sudden warmth over his shoulders and down his back as a blanket was laid over him.
He turned to see where it had come from when a small gentle voice said to him, “Are you alright? I saw you lying there and I…” The voice stopped not because it was cut off but because it seemed it didn’t quite know what it was going to say.
The source of the voice was now taking shape before his eyes, though not clearly for the ale and whatever had caused the throbbing had muddled both his mind and vision. There was a curvy silhouette of a woman kneeling beside him.
She wore a plain coat and her outstretched arm lay on his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside” she said warmly, “My name is Sonara.”
“Kill me! Kill me!” she pleads as the dream falls away and reality crashes in around it. Cecilos jolts awake in a cold sweat with her last cries still ringing in his ears.
((I'd like to apologize to the 2 or 3 of you who actually read this. I have been procrastination on this next part of the story. Its been taking so long partially because it is going to be much longer and in depth and partially because it has become intimidating. This next part is largely based on event that happened outside of the game so I have a little more freedom to get inside the characters heads without stepping on anybody's toes. I also find that I am able to go into greater detail.
Part 4: Cecilos starts off roughly 3 years from where we last left off. We begin in the city of Ann-Korr though the eyes of a new character, Sonara, who you will get to learn about right away. Some troubling events have happened to our hero, or better said, antihero since we last left off, further leading his life in a downward spiral. Ezor (who now calls himself Cecilos) has discovered that his sister did not die of natural causes but that she was murdered, but you already knew that if you were paying attention and will now be given the details. He quickly finds out that revenge is a blade that cuts both ways.
So what has happened in those 3 years since Ezor left Gobiath? Will his revenge on those who murdered his sister be complete? and will Sonara be able to heal the wounds of his past? You'll have to read to wait to find out because I am not quite done. I promise to put lots of work into this over the break and complete this part soon, but I don't want to post it if it's not ready. So here is the opening of part 4: Cecilos as a teaser, and to let you know that I have not forgotten about this and will complete it. What you are about to read is still subject to change as I do the final proof reading.))
Part VI Cecilos
The winters were always a bitter cold in Ann-Korr. The fall rains would turn to ice blanketing the cityscape. It was really coming down tonight. It was the first storm of the winter and if this were to be any indication, is was sure to be a frigid winter.
But inside it was warm. A single oil lamp illuminates a scantily decorated room. A grey cat walks across the table casting eerie shadows on the walls. Chattering could be heard from the lobby down below. It was late and some of the men had begun to filter out from the tavern across the road and into the old Inn. An old signboard overtop of the door to the tavern read Blue Ravens.
The men were never alone when they crossed over. They would stager out with some young girl under their arm, or even one under each at times. Thomas the innkeeper would rent out the rooms by the hour and would even rent the same room out as many as half a dozen times in an evening.
A woman sat in stillness looking out the window of her dimly lit room. She could still recall with clarity when she would have been among those escorting the men, who were all too willing to part with some coin for a night of company. Of course she was somewhat younger then. At 29 she was considered too old for the occupation especially when there were younger ones to be had. Thomas had been kind enough to let her stay, he was a gentle man and she had served his establishment well over the years.
The cat jumped up on her lap distracting her for a moment. Oliver, which was his name, was the stray cat she had adopted less than five years earlier. She rescued the poor thing behind the inn from some young boys who were throwing rocks at it. He was thin a raggedy looking so she brought him in, feed him and after that he just wouldn’t leave, not that she wanted him to leave. She had enjoyed the creatures company and had since grown quite fond of him and his company.
With Oliver now settled on her lap she returned her attention back to the window. It wasn’t the men or the girls that she watched tonight though. It was the vagrant. She had seen him on many such nights making his way into the tavern. He would stumble out once it got late, hardily able to stand sometimes not making it more than the alleyway before passing out. Other times he would just sit out front idly. Of course vagrants were no oddity in this part of Ann-Korr but there was something about him.
She had passed him on the street during the day twice and by all appearances he was just like any other homeless beggar, yet he seemed different, like he didn’t belong. There was a darkness about him, yet that wasn’t all. It was as if he was lost or looking for something, something that wasn’t there. She didn’t know if that something had ever been there, or could ever be found. She sensed this in him, though they had never once as much as acknowledged each other. It was written on his face, if one would take the time to look.
This night the vagrant did not follow his normal routine, or rather was unable too. From her window it was hard to say for sure but it appeared there and been a scuffle across the street. This one nothing out of the ordinary, brawls often broke out in the tavern. It would seem the vagrant had been at the receiving end of one such brawl for he had been tossed out and now lay in a pitiful heap on the side of the street. A guard passed by but the man laying face down on the wet ground didn’t seem to be of much concern to him. Poor thing she thought.
She pulled on her coat, grabbed a blanket and slipped down the hall.
********************
Smell was the first of his senses to return. It was the smell of cheap ale and tobacco at first then the more subtle fresh smell of the falling snow.
Next the feeling began to return and it was the cold wet feel of cobblestone touching his face along with a throbbing pain. It was hard to pinpoint where this was coming from. It felt like it was from all over. He had been punch or possibly clubbed. He remembered the face of the man who had started it but everything after that was hazy. The man spilt his drink, or it was possibly the other way around, things had a way of escalating rapidly as the night wore one.
Sounds followed close behind with the clamoring noise flowing out of the tavern, of songs sung horridly out of tune mixed with laughter, shouting and the stomping of feet.
Sight and taste came about thereafter; the former of cheap ale and blood, the latter of the dimly lit streets.
He pushed off the ground with his palms grunting slightly as he tried to get back to his feet when there was another sensation over his body. There was sudden warmth over his shoulders and down his back as a blanket was laid over him.
He turned to see where it had come from when a small gentle voice said to him, “Are you alright? I saw you lying there and I…” The voice stopped not because it was cut off but because it seemed it didn’t quite know what it was going to say.
The source of the voice was now taking shape before his eyes, though not clearly for the ale and whatever had caused the throbbing had muddled both his mind and vision. There was a curvy silhouette of a woman kneeling beside him.
She wore a plain coat and her outstretched arm lay on his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside” she said warmly, “My name is Sonara.”