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It's twenty seconds til the last call
drr drr drr retail has been destroying my writing brain T_T A little late, but here.
Series: Gesma
Character: Warren
Warren had been taught, when he was a child, the significance of the coin. And it was a lesson, for he had never encountered much of it, nor need of it. Coins were money, of course, but it was also the resource in most constant transit amongst the commoners. Unless they were to brand the beer and the corn, coin was the most prominent reminder to the people.
Epics might be recounted in tomes, but in a child's palmful of coins, any Fourth Kingdomer could know the history of rule in their nation. The face of the front was for the future, always of the current ruler, or rulers, should both be alive. Only his father's ever-softening face graced the sun's side of a coin these days. He had no interest in this sort of present, and so he flipped the coin around.
The back of the coins were always saved for the past, for the former rulers upon whose shoulders the kingdom now rested. Warren turned the copper ten-pence over by the tavern's torchlight, he was almost amused at how the shine of the metal matched the hue of her hair.
Warren himself had picked out the portrait, of her poised before the window of her private library. Her image lost much in the translation of oil to metal, but that which defined her best remained - her lifted chin, sharp eyes, posture immovable and just. She held an apple in her grasp, understood to be Knowledge. Queen of Wisdom, the people of the court cried when the portrait was revealed. She had risen from her seat and, without a shred of emotion, declared them all to be flatterers. Only Warren and his father immediately understood that to be the most severe insult she knew of. He dared not smile at the memory.
The man sitting at the next stool over noticed Warren's study. "She rests well, lad. Though, if she lived longer, I reckon she might've sat up with the Ladies."
Warren had no comment to this. He simply took his leave. The coin remained for the bartender.
Series: Gesma (about 18 years prior to game start)
Characters: Vay, Vay's father, and three of his siblings
Vay stood at the base of the oak tree, while Cuan, Ylva, and Dalio, three of his elder siblings, thrashed wildly about five feet above his head. Their feet were snared in a trapwork of chain, like a cat's cradle drawn tight at their ankles, while a single chain upon a spool kept them suspended in place. Because of thatVay didn't move an inch, though he could have liked to have run, panicked by their threats. He struggled enough to keep hold of the chain that kept the three from crashing head-first into the dirt and gnarled roots.
When he heard the inevitable approach, Vay pressed his back harder against the tree, as if he could yet hide himself. But his siblings yelled and pointed, and when a great shadow passed over him, the young boy was too terrified to lift his head to meet it. "Father."
"Pup," his father replied, curt. "What has happened here?"
Before he was able to answer, Vay forced himself to take big Wolf breaths, determined not to cry. "They teased me with riddles and words. Said the human village makes me slow." His hands shook over the chain. "I...I only meant to show them the trick I learned this spring, at the village."
Their father assessed the situation, slowly, allowing Vay the time to nearly start hyperventilating. But then the elder Wolf took the chain from Vay (able to keep it taut with the casual grasp of one hand, rather than Vay's strained two), then yanked it experimentally. The chain jolted the three Wolves, sending them jostling and bumping against each other. Then a grin, strange and foreign,alit their father's scarred face, as he tormented his two sons and daughter. The trapped Wolves howled, cried and cursed, but their father laughed yet. The old Wolf then tied the chain around the stump, and there it stayed.
"You have shown them very well, pup. So, have silver tongues yet learned their worth against iron?" He twisted back towards the village, called for his wife. "Lyall! Come! Have you ever wished to swat at your pups while they hung like trapped rabbits?"
Though that promised to be good sport, Vay had long ago become embarrassed by the attention. He disappeared by the time his mother, and most the rest of the clan, arrived for the spectacle.
They may have been wary to play in the woods with him after that, yet nobody of the clan called Vay slow again.
Series: Gesma
Character: Warren
Warren had been taught, when he was a child, the significance of the coin. And it was a lesson, for he had never encountered much of it, nor need of it. Coins were money, of course, but it was also the resource in most constant transit amongst the commoners. Unless they were to brand the beer and the corn, coin was the most prominent reminder to the people.
Epics might be recounted in tomes, but in a child's palmful of coins, any Fourth Kingdomer could know the history of rule in their nation. The face of the front was for the future, always of the current ruler, or rulers, should both be alive. Only his father's ever-softening face graced the sun's side of a coin these days. He had no interest in this sort of present, and so he flipped the coin around.
The back of the coins were always saved for the past, for the former rulers upon whose shoulders the kingdom now rested. Warren turned the copper ten-pence over by the tavern's torchlight, he was almost amused at how the shine of the metal matched the hue of her hair.
Warren himself had picked out the portrait, of her poised before the window of her private library. Her image lost much in the translation of oil to metal, but that which defined her best remained - her lifted chin, sharp eyes, posture immovable and just. She held an apple in her grasp, understood to be Knowledge. Queen of Wisdom, the people of the court cried when the portrait was revealed. She had risen from her seat and, without a shred of emotion, declared them all to be flatterers. Only Warren and his father immediately understood that to be the most severe insult she knew of. He dared not smile at the memory.
The man sitting at the next stool over noticed Warren's study. "She rests well, lad. Though, if she lived longer, I reckon she might've sat up with the Ladies."
Warren had no comment to this. He simply took his leave. The coin remained for the bartender.
Series: Gesma (about 18 years prior to game start)
Characters: Vay, Vay's father, and three of his siblings
Vay stood at the base of the oak tree, while Cuan, Ylva, and Dalio, three of his elder siblings, thrashed wildly about five feet above his head. Their feet were snared in a trapwork of chain, like a cat's cradle drawn tight at their ankles, while a single chain upon a spool kept them suspended in place. Because of thatVay didn't move an inch, though he could have liked to have run, panicked by their threats. He struggled enough to keep hold of the chain that kept the three from crashing head-first into the dirt and gnarled roots.
When he heard the inevitable approach, Vay pressed his back harder against the tree, as if he could yet hide himself. But his siblings yelled and pointed, and when a great shadow passed over him, the young boy was too terrified to lift his head to meet it. "Father."
"Pup," his father replied, curt. "What has happened here?"
Before he was able to answer, Vay forced himself to take big Wolf breaths, determined not to cry. "They teased me with riddles and words. Said the human village makes me slow." His hands shook over the chain. "I...I only meant to show them the trick I learned this spring, at the village."
Their father assessed the situation, slowly, allowing Vay the time to nearly start hyperventilating. But then the elder Wolf took the chain from Vay (able to keep it taut with the casual grasp of one hand, rather than Vay's strained two), then yanked it experimentally. The chain jolted the three Wolves, sending them jostling and bumping against each other. Then a grin, strange and foreign,alit their father's scarred face, as he tormented his two sons and daughter. The trapped Wolves howled, cried and cursed, but their father laughed yet. The old Wolf then tied the chain around the stump, and there it stayed.
"You have shown them very well, pup. So, have silver tongues yet learned their worth against iron?" He twisted back towards the village, called for his wife. "Lyall! Come! Have you ever wished to swat at your pups while they hung like trapped rabbits?"
Though that promised to be good sport, Vay had long ago become embarrassed by the attention. He disappeared by the time his mother, and most the rest of the clan, arrived for the spectacle.
They may have been wary to play in the woods with him after that, yet nobody of the clan called Vay slow again.