Search Posts
Definitely much respect for having the courage to come back and being open about what is going on. As others have said, from personal experience I know that isn't easy. My partner has similar issues she deals with and it really isn't an understatement when they say you need to prioritize yourself. I wish you, and everyone else here who is struggling, all the best!
Agreed with the no troubles sentiment. Hope you continue to improve!
Definitely appreciate the update just so we know how you are hanging in there. Wishing you all the best!
Hope you feel better soon for your own sake!
It all happens in a whirl of color and sounds. Drehm is aware that there are more people than just him and Mayor Uptal in the tavern, but when the Mayor speaks everything else just becomes a blur. Was he even still awake? Drehm subtly pinches the inside of his forearm while the Mayor speaks to him, careful not to draw blood but the pain is evident--is real. It's real. It's true. Upon the Mayor's final words, Drehm straightens his back and bows his head like he's seen the guards do to their superiors. "Yessir, Mr. Mayor, sir!" He still feels ridiculous, out of place, but the swelling of pride in his chest is real. The nerves, the anticipation. It's all real. When the Major leaves Asina and Trelvar Silver offer their support and well wishes, though Drehm can tell they still can't believe it themselves. Mr. Iggins can't stop smiling though. "How's about a round for your best workers, aye Silvers?" the halfling says as he clambers onto the stool the Mayor once sat at. "Maybe some of that 'special' milk ya got in the back." Mr. Silvers gives Jokes a dour look. "You're about to be working, Iggins. And I'm sure the boy has better things to do on his day off than drink here." "Oh, aye, that he does," Jokes Iggins agrees, tossing a wink Drehm's way. The half-orc stiffens, now remembering the talk they had just minutes ago. Maybe it would be worth seeing who else would be a part of this? His plan didnt have to change much. He could try finding work at the temple, only now he actually had a topic to start a real conversation with. With a farewell more optimistic than any of the three in the tavern have heard from Drehm before, the young 'citizen of Kassen' heads out with a new sense of purpose to drive him.
The two Silvers appear stunned, unable to react to the Mayor's news. Drehm is much the same, his mouth hanging open and tusks protruding much further than he would normally allow them. He is rocked out of his stupor when a small but firm hand slaps him on the small of his back. "Ya hear that, my boy?!" Jokes Iggins says with a hearty laugh. "It's time! It's finally time! An' you thought it'd never come! Hah!" Drehm closes his mouth, looks to Mr. Iggins and the Mayor, but he is still unable to form words. Of course he thought it wouldnt come. The right to bring back the flame was for citizens of the town. And he wasn't that. At least, he never felt that way. He assumed everyone felt that way. That Mr. Iggins only ever humored him. That the way people avoided him, avoided looking at him, was natural. "Ya..." Drehm starts to say, but has to clear his throat. Even trying to say the words tightens the muscles and makes his eyes sting. "Ya sure ya 'avent made a mistake, Mr. Mayor, sir?" "What are ye, daft?" Mr. Iggins declares before the Mayor can answer. "O'course he hasn't made a mistake. Tell 'em, Mayor!" And then everyone turns to the Mayor, watching and waiting with baited breath.
Yeah no stress hope things turn around for you soon
No real expectations here. Just excited to see how the story unfolds!
Drehm stares at the wavy reflection of his own face. He traces a clawed finger over several of the tattoo lines, and several more over the rough scabs. If it wasn't for those dishes being dropped the other day he'd have the spare coin by now to cover more of his face. Drehm grimaces in annoyance, but quickly looks away when he sees the exposed tusks reflected in the water. "Oi, do all ye halfies take this long to clean dishes?" Mr. Iggins' voice calls from the adjoining living room. He sits back in his rocking chair and blows a puff of smoke from his pipe out a nearby open window. When Drehm looks back to give him a glare, Jokes Iggins is already waiting to return a smile. "You keep dilly-dallying and everyone's gonna find somethin' better ta do, my boy." Drehm grunts in annoyance, but he takes his time coming up with a retort. His gaze lingers back to the bucket of water. "Wha'...What do I even say, Mr. Iggins? I don't even know tha'." Jokes chews on his pipe thoughtfully for a moment. "You wanna get in folks' good graces, start by findin' one who needs somethin'." Drehm gives Jokes an exasperated look. "Wha' could a family o' sorcerers need from someone lie me?" Jokes raises a furry, white brow, the smile growing from behind his pipe. "Why now, I don' remember sayin' a lip about them Vargidans now did I?" The halfling laughs heartily as Drehm flushes red, but quickly recovers so he could continue. "You wantin' ta not embarrass yourself, ya? Start small. You helped ol' Father Prasst at the Temple the other week, didn' ya? Go again, but this time don' just be keeping' yer head down and sayin' nothin'. Talk to 'im. Talk to his boys. Ya gonna mess up, ya gonna make a fool of yerself, so might as well do it before a man of Erastil whose job it is not to judge!" Drehm wanted to interrupted Mr. Iggins a few times during his spiel. For one, the Temple and it's occupants made him uncomfortable. Religion as a whole was something beyond his grasp. And perhaps even worse the last time he had 'helped' it was mucking s$+* for hours for less coin than he made an hour working at the Seven Silvers. But, in a way, Mr. Iggins had a point. Deep down, he didn't mind if the people at the Temple thought less of him and if he made too big of a fool of himself all he had to do was never go back again. Simple. Would make for a great excuse, actually. "Yeh, alrigh',", Drehm says, sounding more upbeat than he intended. His tone was so light that Jokes stops rocking and takes the pipe out of his mouth to regard the half-orc. "That's my boy!" he exclaims with a laugh. He raises the pipe in the air. "That's my boy! Now get out there before all the good s+** gets shoveled!"
Haha he's more than likely done that job for coin before getting a steady gig at the Seven Silvers. Someone might need to drag him to the Temple otherwise, his lack of understanding of religion makes him a very suspicious half-orc!
Drehm and Jokes Iggins sit across from each other, the table between them heaped high with food. The older halfing is spreading jam on his fourth slice of bread when he asks "Got any plans this mornin', my boy?" Drehm was poking at the crisped remains of the eggs he tried to cook. His scowl falters somewhat but he does not lift his eyes. "No, sir." Jokes lets out a half amused-half annoyed sigh. He had long given up trying to break the half-orc out of calling him 'sir' or 'Mr. Iggins' but he wasn't about to let the other issue slide so easily. "An' why not? You 'ave the whole day to yerself. Go out there and meet somebody! Somebody yer own bloody age!" Jokes quickly adds when he saw Drehm about to voice a retort. "Ya can't just be hangin' around with me and the lovely men and women at the Silvers all ya life--we'll all be dead before you see the end of it!" Jokes laughs loudly at his own dark joke, sending bread crumbs spilling down his chest and on the table. Drehm doesn't join in. He finds it hard to even look at the halfling across from him. He doesn't understand how he could just forget last night happened. How he could pretend like none of it even happened. In a way, that was worse than acknowledging it. If he had just cracked a bad joke about it they could have moved on by now. "'sides," Jokes continues with a twinkle in his eye. "I've seen the way ye be eyein' some of them from the Vargidan family. Seems a bit unfair one man can produce so many lookers, eh? "It's not like tha'!" Drehm exclaims, feeling a rush of heat color his cheeks. He nearly rises from his seat, but catches himself, suddenly afraid of accidentally repeating his mistake from last night. However, Mr. Iggins only guffaws again. "Sure, sure, well whether ya want to get to know them or their magic you won't be gettin' anywhere just starin'." Drehm slumps in his seat. The prospect of approaching anyone, much less people his age that could control magic terrifies him. But the thought of lingering in the house with these feelings festering scares him more. "Yeh, alrigh'," Drehm mumbles, barely audible, but Jokes hears it. The halfing watches the young man with a studying expression for only a moment before his face wrinkles into a familiar smile. "That's my boy"
I hope its okay I basically chose my advisor as Drehm's "family". I picture him bouncing around between a lot of family's as he grew up and the easy-going sounding halfling seemed like the choice that would put up with a sour, teenaged half-orc the longest lol.
Drehm shivers as a cold rush of wind runs over his bare back. He makes an attempt at pulling the ratty blanket over his exposed body, but it's a fool's errand. He had long outgrown the blanket and once he was awake it was hard to fall back asleep, no matter how long the night before was. The young half-orc rises from bed, exposing his upper-half to the rays of sun that cut through the grimy windows and exposed bits of wall and roof. The skin is a light-gray, and mostly bare. The latter Drehm hopes to change soon once he's saved up the money to add more tattoos to complement the swirling, tribalistic ones that decorate the sides of his face. He idly scratches these markings as he yawns, a bad habit that has left his cheeks riddled with pock-marked scabs. "Oi! I hear ya creakin' up there. You want I to start on breakfast!?" a sharp voice calls from downstairs. The sound of it makes Drehm flinch. It reminds him of the argument he and it's owner had last night at work. It had started like every other disagreement. Drehm catching Mr. Iggins doing something he thought he shouldn't be doing. But for some reason tempers flared hotter than usual. Drehm had shouted louder than he intended, nearly barreled the halfling down as he stepped up to him and bared his tusks. Drehm recalls it all with a twisting feeling in his stomach. He idly plays with the tusks as he thinks on his benefactors face. Pale. Sweating. Wide-eyed. It was the first time Mr. Iggins had ever looked at him like that. A sudden pounding on the ground--on the attic door--causes Drehm to jolt and then let out a muffled curse as he cuts a finger on one of his tusks. "I hope ya don't be expectin' me to be doin' all the cooking on my lonesome. Get yer gray butt downstairs an' help me with these eggs!" A light chuckle was soon followed by soft steps heading back down the ladder. Drehm sat there, sucking on his bleeding thumb, for only a moment as anxiety fought against hunger. Eventually the latter won out as Drehm sat up from bed, threw on a crumpled shirt, and headed for the door with a "Comin', Mr. Iggins!"
Oooooh I see that's what the "dot and delete" message was for. And of course the first time I tried it I forgot to switch to my alias hah. My bad!
Sorry for another noob question, but is there anything we need to do to appear on the players/characters tab, or is that a GM specific task? Just wanna be sure I'm not holding anything up!
*phew* Okay! I think I am good to go. Pretty heavily borrowed @Nintos's format as I am a big fan! Please double check me though and let me know if I need to add/change anything. If not, Drehm is both dreading and excited to partake in the ceremony!
Darknessman's submission here. Drehm was found in the town's alleys swaddled in a curious silken blanket of obvious Varisian origin. Raised by humans, the half-orc has grown into a somewhat moody teen with pock-marked cheeks, hence the nickname. He works with "Short Change" at the Seven Silvers as a bus boy and while he learned the skills of a rogue to survive as a child he looks very disfavorably on those who simply steal or otherwise commit crimes for fun. |
