Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Finjaq Asks (2/4/09)

(per a suggestion from the randy-minded Randy)

“Tell me ‘bout yer first love. Or hell, if ya even believe in love at all!”
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10 comments:

Dave said...

FINJAQ:

Me first love? Ah, that’s easy. She was the shaggiest, most irresistible gnoll I’d ever seen –

Ha-har!

Ol’ Finjaq’s just havin’ yeh on! Truth is I don’t much know if I ever been in love. Been with me fair share of lasses, alright, but love? That’s somethin’ fer poets an’ dandies to yammer on about while I’m on me second bottle of elven wine with the lass what’s comin’ home with me that night.

But maybe...maybe I been in love one time. Or somethin’ close to it.

Was about six or seven years back, an’ if yeh can believe it, I weren’t yet the worldly scallywag I’ve come ta be. Only been at sea about three years then, an’ workin’ as a mate on the Rakshasa’s Fang. Pirate ship, it was. An’ the time I’m thinkin’ of, we’d put inta the port of Westers End. Far off island, not much sea-traffic, always rainin’. Pirates knowed it an’ the merchants what run the island catered to ‘em.

Well we had some particular delicate goods ta unload an’ we stayed in town near two months while the fences worked it all out. Durin’ that time I spent most a’ me days at the Gully Washer – just a middlin’ tavern where me an’ me mates drank while it stormed outside.

I should probably get ta the girl, right?

Her name was Lelan an’ she weren’t a lady ye’d miss in a crowd. Had soft brown skin, like some’a them leaves ya sees in Autumn. Curly dark hair, she wore it long. Gray eyes. Oh, and she certainly had the curves ol’ Finjaq likes, an’ she wore real fancy city clothes what showed ‘em off. Shiny things, an’ silky things, an’ sometimes not much a’ anything. It near took this barbarian’s breath away.

An’ even with me bein’ pretty young still, of course I knowed she was a whore. I don’t call 'er that ta be disrespectful - it’s just what she were, see? So she’d spend some time drinkin’ with me and me mates, talkin’ ‘bout the queerest things – like wizard-talk, an’ what roots an’ herbs went inta what potions, an’ such. An’ then she’d spend the night with one’a us or the other. I didn't judge her too much.

But somehow me an’ her got ta talkin’ more than her an’ anyone else. I’d get ta tellin’ her about me days with me tribe up north, about how I missed me sister an’ brothers a little bit, an’ she’d get this far-off look in her eyes too. I guess she had family she done missed, too, though she mostly didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout her past. It must’a been sad story, though. I could tell. Jus’ the way she’d not talk about it, I could tell. But when Lelan was with me an’ I was tellin’ he ‘bout the sea an’ all the ports I been to, she was happy! That was a nice feelin’, an’ maybe it was love an’ maybe it weren’t.

So we started stayin’ together. She had a little apartment in a crap part of town. The rain’d leak through the roof, but she kept it nice otherwise. She’d put out all these wee urns an’ bowls ta catch the rain, so even nowadays when I hears rain spatterin’ it gets me all wistful fer Lelan. I remember us layin’ in bed together, an’ sometimes she’d read some words from them scrolls an’ books she had all piled around. See, she let on that was savin’ her money ta one day go ta one’a them academies what teach ya magic arts - or maybe find a wizard lookin’ fer an apprentice. Them books an' scrolls was what she’d bought ta start learnin’ on on her own. An’ some was history stories ‘bout famous wizards an’ how lots of ‘em started small an’ then studied real hard an’ then became so big even kings an’ princes gave respect to ‘em. I told her all that learnin’ sounded too hard fer ol’ Finjaq, but that maybe she could do it. I know I liked listenin’ to her talk about it, anyway. I don’t take much ta poncy wizards, but I could listen ta her talk about magic all day long.

Well, what happens next is she starts spendin’ more time with me than with other fellas, an’ I’m givin’ her some’a me own pay ta make up fer it. She didn’t ask me to, though – that’s important. I just tol’ her I wanted ta help, an’ so I did. Things was goin’ okay fer a few weeks, but one day I’m comin’ ta her place an’ I’m ‘bout ta climb through the window ta surprise her. I hear her talkin’, an’ straightaway I realize she’s talkin’ ta her pimp. It about turns me stomach, but I listen all quiet-like fer a few minutes. An’ he’s yellin’ at her. Sayin’ she’s gettin’ a reputation fer bein’ choosey an’ that’s bad fer business. He’s even yellin’ at her ‘bout them books she got, sayin’ she’s puttin’ on airs an’ she needs ta come back down ta earth.

‘Bout then is when he hits her. An’ suddenly I got the spirit o' Tiamat in me blood, cryin’ out fer payback. I’m through that window in a wink an’ I see this lean-faced bastard standin’ over Lelan. He’s decked out like a half-ass merchant king, but even in the split second ‘fore I put his face through a table, I could see it were cheap, imitation clothes. An’ so I turned that lean-faced bastard out, but good. Lelan was cryin’ an’ grabbin’ at me the whole time, sayin’ ta stop, sayin’ I was makin’ things worse, but I weren’t stoppin’ – not even fer her. Ol' lean-face weren't but a bloody heap when I was done an’ I was tryin’ ta figure whether ta just end him an’ be done with it when he made the decision for me. Had a knife in his boot, he did, an’ made a piss-poor stab at me when he thought I weren’t lookin’. He fell flat an’ I brought me boot down right on the back of his neck. That were the end of him. I heard a snap and I knew he was done.

But Lelan, she weren’t happy or nothin'. She said I’d ruined everythin’ and that lean-face had been with the thieves guild. They’d figure it out, she said. They’d track her down an’ put her to the blade. An’ while she’s sayin’ this she’s all throwin’ her clothes an’ books in trunks. Cryin’ too, an’ I felt terrible for me part in it, about the worst I ever felt. But I knowed she was right so I helped her get packed an’ paid some porters ta get her out’a there that very night. She’s leavin’ in a carriage, an’ tellin’ me she ain’t gonna tell me where to ‘cause it’s safer fer both of us if I don’t know. She says ta stick around at the Gully Washer an’ she’ll send word when it’s safe ta meet her. ‘Course it’s rainin’ and she’s got tears comin’ down mixin’ with the rain, an’ maybe I gots a few meself.

An’ that’s about it fer me young, stupid love. I got back ta the Gully Washer like she says an’ I hang about fer a few weeks. I never get word. In me heart, I’m hopin’ she just up an’ left town an’ she’s usin’ the money I gave her in some new city where some kind ol’ gray-hair wizard’s teachin’ her. But in me head I’m thinkin’, “She’s dead, she's dead. She’s dead in an alley an’ it’s yer damn-fool fault, Finjaq.”

'Fore too long Rakshasa’s Fang sets sail an' what can I do? I gotta live, so's I go. I’m tore up somethin’ fierce an’ me mates know it an’ steer clear of me. A few times I think about jumpin’ in the deep an’ just endin’ it all, an’ that’s why I think, yeh, I was probably in love.

1:26 AM
Dave said...

Geez, that was way the hell longer than I meant it to be! Ah well, that's amore...

1:27 AM
Dan said...

ALARIC:

I've never been in love. I know it exists- I've seen it, in the eyes of a hunched-over greybeard bidding goodbye to the woman he's spent his entire life with. I've heard it, in the wailing of the family left without fatherless by accident or disease, and sure that their world is over. There are countless stories of people breaking the laws of death for love, and believe me, more of them are true than not.

I'm still young, though, and my life isn't what you'd call conducive to finding love. I'm not worried- it'll happen or it won't.

I have felt the stirrings of the heart, though. I'm not cold. I just know them for what they were- the thoughts of a lonely boy. In my case, it was after the death of my family, when I had moved into the Temple of Winter Mourning, consecrated to the Raven Queen.

The Temple is located high in the mountains and serves mainly as a training and testing ground for my Queen's priests. Its architecture, too is intended to test, to remind us of her mastery over cold and to toughen us, and the Temple consists of many sweeping open hallways that channel the slightest breeze into the breath of a white dragon. The stone of the buildings absorbs the cold, and only in the kitchen is a fire to be found.

As you might imagine, this makes for some harsh conditions that broke many candidates before they even truly began. The rest of us found warmth however we could- constant exercise was popular, as was huddling together at night. My roommate, a slender fellow named Brace, and I were no exception.

Brace was thin, which made me wonder if the cold would bother him more, but he always seemed lit with an inner fire that kept him going. His energy was contagious, helping keep us all strong, and it wasn't long before I found myself falling for the strength of his personality a bit. That, and our constant proximity, was enough to begin a fumbling, exploratory romance between us. Neither of us took it truly seriously, I think, and when I left the Temple we clasped arms as friends and said goodbye, but I still find myself remembering those times fondly on very cold nights.

4:26 AM
Uncle Staple said...

OH! Pirate heartbreak! I lol'ed, I cried, I said "Aarrgh!"

12:32 PM
Uncle Staple said...

And boarding shool bro-mance! not necessarily gay!

12:43 PM
Randy Lander said...

Nice! I've decided the award for these tales of love and loss (or not loss, if anyone's got one of those, although really, happy romances don't usually lead to adventuring) will be a "Circle of Love" token.

You'll be able to use that as a free action power (once) that gives your character a +1 to all defenses (or +2 to one specific defense) until the end of their next turn.

And I will be trying to make up some actual cardstock tokens for this and for the "weapon bonus" award I handed out last time. Probably still no MVPC sash, yet, though... sorry, Jamie!

9:02 PM
Joe R said...

Poncy wizards eh?

We are in agreement that love is for poets. A serious student of the wand certainly has no use for such things. Still, my heart is not ice. I have encountered such things.

An elder wizard, a teacher of mine long ago, had a way of attracting suiters. Something about the way she carried herself, her smile, he fine golden hair, I was never quite able to put my finger on it. She was perfectly feminine, yet strong and independant. She was named for the goddess Ehlonna, and she did the name justice.

Men were fawning over her constantly. Nearly all of her students were in love with her. She never abused her situation, merely finding it amusing, always acting with grace and respect and never leading them on.

She only had eyes for great wizards. The few times I witnessed her express any affection, it was, ironically, just as unrequited as that of her students, though usually not with such dignity.

I'm sure she would remember me, being the only human student in the Eladrin academy in nearly 100 years. How often she used to express her hopes for me in one day becoming a great wizard. I certainly never allowed myself feelings for her. It would be taboo enough for me to make advances on a wood elf, but a high elf is clearly out of my league.

Still, I wonder if some day we'll meet again.

9:25 PM
Dave said...

>>...although really, happy romances don't usually lead to adventuring...

That's true, but that doesn't mean the first love thing has to be a downer - you could easily have good times that just happened to end naturally, as good times often do. I went a little dark with Finjaq to give a lighter character some gravitas. But I could just've easily seen doing a Grease-style "Summer Nights" remembrance, all wood nymphs and debauchery! :)

2:03 AM
Dave said...

Incidentally, I'm very glad Randy made the topic suggestion. Really digging the variety of stories so far.

2:05 AM
Maxo said...

Love? You can't be serious - there's no time, no place for love on the field of battle.

Of course even the most dedicated soldier may feel the sting of loneliness and will be ready to take a mate. If the couple are both in service, the rules say one of them has to retire - no question. And of course not every Dragonborn is in the military, so that's a popular option. But I couldn't pledge myself to a cook or trader - what could I find in common with someone who's been a civilian all their life?

Oh, aye, it's not as if it's impossible to find a partner in service. Battle makes for fast friends, and sometimes it will go further than that. It happens to everyone, sooner or later.

Why, I remember a fierce battle in the Northern canyon; it was the year before I left the service. We had held against orc invaders for three days, but we weren't pushing them back, either. Luckily a regiment of archers were sent to aid us, and perched on a shelf of rock above the fray, there she was, calmly releasing arrows into the enemy.

She was surprisingly ... attractive, for a soldier. Or maybe I had been in the field too long. But she was tall and graceful, with a focus on her task that was powerful. Her scaling reminded me of the deep aventurine stones the dwarves used in their jewelry, and the rising sun made it easy to see the gold flecks that matched her sharp eyes. Her smooth movement spoke of strength and confidence in her ability.

With the archers' help the battle was over soon, but the orcs had been pushing into Raramuri hard, and both of our units were sent to separate fronts. I made eye-contact with her once, and then it was time to move my soldiers on to the next battle.

Weeks later I was home, finally getting a well-earned leave, when I found out what had happened after the day in the canyon. The regiment of archers had gone East, eventually chasing a unit of Orcs into The Bellows. That's a narrow canyon that leads into the desert; the wind there is hot and blows all the damn time.

It was a trap. With those bastards it's always a trap. A battalion of orcs and hobgoblins were waiting, and the fighting was fierce, I heard, but ...

There weren't any survivors.

Later I found out her name was Codril. By all accounts she was honorable, a true Dragonborn and a fine soldier, as good with a morningstar as she was with a bow. She died well.

Aye ... a fine soldier ...

5:46 PM

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