Search Posts
For whatever reason, Eymur stops before stepping onto the bridge. He looks into the depths below, and his face goes pale. He takes a few breaths before carrying forward. He seems to be focusing on moving one step at a time, clearly unnerved. "Yes, quite...", he chuckles nervously and attempts to hurry things along. "Better not keep anyone waiting, right?"
Eumyr listens in as they walk, looking about the street. His eyes often scan narrow alleys between the buildings. He maintains a low presence otherwise. He does make an occasional comment, but tries to keep it to a neutral tone. "First time for a lot of us, I see." He sighs. "Maybe just a quick rundown on the expected decorum? I grew up as a farm boy."
"I see..." A wave of relief seems to wash over the halfling once the actual purpose of the summons is clarified. He re-checks his clothes and pats his old but well-loved bag. "I suppose I am ready as I'll ever be, considering."
The halfling presents the envelope delivered to him earlier, and looks about the faces in the gathering. He seems short even for a halfling, but lean and wiry, with calloused hands. Unkepmt copper hair is cut to his shoulders and frames a forgettable face. His gaze lingers on Keal for a moment while his brow furrows pensively. Then he snaps back to reality. "I'm Eymur. First time on the mountaintop." He keeps scanning the area for something, attempting to keep in the group outer perimeter. "I see we're all wondering what this is about, then?", he attempts to keep the conversation going with a hint of reservedness.
When Eymur woke up today, he assumed it would be a day like any other. He did his hygiene, tended to his mother, and attempted to make something to eat with whatever was around the house. There was no kitchen in their current home, if you could call it that. It was a small affair, with barely enough room for the two of them. As usual, he didn't get much sleep, frequently waking up to Trinka's coughing. The last few years forced the young man to become a light sleeper. "At least she is coughing.", he thought to himself every morning, praying for a recovery, but dreading the sudden silence and what that might entail. "Breakfast of champions, as usual.", Eymur joked when he brought the bread and mushrooms, if you could call it that. Not that Eymur would know anything else. It was a simple life, albeit with its hurdles to jump. Trinka returned a matronly, understanding smile. With both of them being farmers for years, they woke up early, as usual. Eymur decided to take care of his "little field", as he called it. A series of potted ashroot plants. Perk of growing your food. Or a part of it, at least. Perhaps this is what kept him going - clinging to the old life, despite the collapse that took his father from them happening a year ago. His little anchor to sanity, even if it came with painful memories. A knock came on the door while Eymur's hands were knuckles deep in the black soil. He looks over to the door, thinking who could that be. He looked at Trinka for any hint. Just as surprised, his mother shrugged. The halfling man walked to the creaky door and opened it just enough to see a man holding a wooden case. He looked the visitor up and down, scanning for something. "Yes?", Eymur eyed the man. The runner expected a taller person, and had to shift his eyes to meet Eymur's. He simply handed over the letter and left with a polite "Have a nice day, sir." "Chatty guy.", Eymur remarked as he closed the door absent-mindedly, looking over the delivered letter. Wax seal, the whole shebang. Trinka smiled from her bed. "A colleague, darling?" Eymur chuckled. "No, Ma'. These are important people deliveries. Not some 'plebs' we deliver to. Maybe one day..." He looked at the letter, thinking what it could mean. Curiosity suddenly mixed with both expectation and fear. A council summons could mean a step up in life or punishment. Eymur was no naive. He did realise the people he worked for were no angels. Frankly, he had dreaded this day for a while now. Who will take care of Ma' while he rots chained to a cliffside? The poor woman can barely sleep without coughing her lungs out. This was a pickle, indeed. And no warning, either. Who knew a simple knock on the door could cause such a swirl of emotions? He stared at the envelope for a while. His name was on it. Nice handwriting, too. This is not something he was supposed to deliver. Those packages usually came with instructions. "Open it up!", Trinka's voice woke Eymur from his trance. He looked at the woman who had given him his life, mulling over the potential outcomes this could lead to. "In a bit. My hands are dirt and nothing else." He threw the envelope on the rickety table and went to finish his work with the ashroot plants. While working, his mind was racing, and he internally cursed himself several times. He could have been a dock worker, but he had to take the easy route. Now his widowed mother will lose a son as well. Ain't that just grand? 15 minutes later, hands dirty or not, he stood up from the ashroot plants, walked to the table like he was on a mission, and tore open the envelope after patting his hands all over his clothes. And he froze and almost laughed when he saw the contents of the message. "What is it?", Trinka prodded after a while. Eymur came over and sat on the bed next to her feet. "Emberwake.", he sighed with relief, almost inaudibly. "I need to find someone to take care of you tonight. I might be late." Trinka smiled back. "Don't worry about-" With a raised hand, he stopped her before she could finish the sentence. "No, I'm not leaving you alone overnight. I also need to get some presentable clothes.", Eymur looked at his dirt-sullied garments before heading across the street to knock on the doors of some of the more reliable neighbours, hoping someone would need the coin.
Sorry for taking so long. It's been a busy week so far. I will get to the gameplay posts shortly. Thank you for being patient.
Hello everyone! Thanks for having me. I'll set up the alt shortly. I realised I did not roll wealth, so here goes. x 10 = 150 gp |
