gaia_crown NEW QUEST - 5/12/13 gaia_crown
Alexei is the type of man to distract himself when confronted with something difficult. He is the person who, when a fight erupts between friends, turns to mead and the bar wenches, chatting them up to avoid the anger that jitters his heart, the tenseness of his muscles, the way his eyes started to twitch. Alexei does not like conflict very much, and when provoked and pushed into it is often rash, lashing out at anything that speaks, breathes, or even dares to exist at that time. The smile fades from his face, the booming laughter and easy eyes shifting to soft whispers and frenzied panic. Alexei uses words that bite deeply when pressed, taking no side but attacking all. He is not to be pressed, he is not to be thrown into a situation of anger and argument.
The infighting among the Knights is too much for Alexei to handle. He has to leave Camelot for a while, get back to the fresh air, even if it were choked with shadows, the sidhe as Gawain had said. Darkness and corruption everywhere, evil resonating within and without. Could he fight it any longer? Could they all keep vigilant, could they ward off the crippling hopelessness and the shadowy claws of despair? Would they be able to continue their fight and unify once more? He sincerely hoped that they could; for all their sake. Humanity depended on them becoming a cohesive attack unit.
Alexei may have come to Camelot as a loud, boisterous man with a penchant for ale, and he still had those things - but this was not the time for being a goofball drunkard. All, or most, of the alcohol had been used to treat the sick and wounded, or was being kept in reserve for the wounded that were expected to continue pouring into their makeshift infirmary. As a knight apprentice of Gawain, he was bound to recognize and uphold the need for the shortage - that did not mean he had to appreciate it. Truth be told, he'd been pining for more mead and ale, his head was swimming almost always and he was easier to press to anger. At times, he would simply walk into a room and not entirely understand just why he'd arrived in said room. It was maddening, and no matter what he tried - water, sleep, breathing exercises, more sleep. Nothing worked.
The siege had to end at some point; it had to cease and then they could bring out the mead and the ale once more. Alexei wished dearly that some of the crates he found on these quests for artifacts. The artifacts didn't seem to be helping them at all - if anything, they were just a distraction.
Then why did he keep going on these quests? Was there really a point to his wanderings, his delvings through the ridiculous, trap laden forests, caves, and mountains? Was fighting off stomach infections and wild animals worth anything at all?
For a moment of peace, away from the three-front war, yes. He would continue riding, continue clinging to the small hope that he was doing something important - but mostly, he would ride to be away from what could make him do something he'd regret.
