|| Stat Page || Updated: Mar/26/18 Experience || 39
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Weapons Basic Staff Water lvl1 || Lightning lvl1 || Earth lvl1 Ice lvl1 || Air lvl1 || Fire lvl1 Health lvl1 || Life lvl1 || Wall lvl1 Repel lvl1 || Force lvl1 || Speed lvl1
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2016 11:42 am
▼Table of Contents / Rules / Contact Information▼
ToC ▼Staff Post Cert, Link to Official Uncert & Inventory ▼Table of Contents & Rules ▼ News/Updates ▼ Finnufarinel Basic physical info, personality, etc. ▼History Grumpy Gus' Past ▼ Relationships Family, Friends, Lover(s), Enemies, etc. ▼ Familiar(s) ---, ---, etc. ▼ RP Log ▼ Battle Log
Rules Do not post in this thread unless you are staff, myself, or invited first. By posting this I am agreeing to follow ToS and shop rules, so I would invite the reader to do the same.
Contact Information I am always open for plotting/rps! That being said, some ways you can contact me are listed below;
Name: Finnufarinel "Finn" (pronounced Fin - oo - fair - eh - nel) Race: Yaeli Gender: Male Future Class: Significant Other: Children: None Physical Description: Finn is a short, scrawny little wisp of a street rat. This boy's got scars; some he can remember receiving, but most he can't. They're just a part of him now. His skin has some faint freckling, though one would be hard pressed to find them now beneath the scars.
Finn's true defining feature isn't something he was born with, but rather something that was gifted to him. It's a simple leather corded necklace, with a rune acting as a pendant. It's symbol is that of protection; a gift from his father just before leaving for the war. His brother has a similar necklace, making this Finn's most valued possession. While he knows there is no actual magical qualities to it, at least, not unless activated by a user, it gives him peace.
Personality: Insatiable, Witty, Calamitous
For this guy, life revolves around one thing; food.
There's never been a time in Finn's memory when there was ever enough food. Without a steady home or the certainty of daily meals, Finn, as a result, always feels hungry; even when he's not. His body is impossible to satisfy, which is why he started turning to theft to fill his needs. He'll rob your pantry blind if you don't watch out!
While he knows what it's like to be hungry, Finn is also a very selfish individual and cares little about others in the wake of his own needs. Mentally he justifies his thefts through a variety of reasons; they either had more than they needed, if this guy can steal one loaf of bread he can steal another, etc.
This is definitely one guy you do not want to take to an 'all you can eat' anything. He's the type to gorge himself until he's sick...and then try again a few hours later.
Finn wants to help when he can, since he knows the pain of hunger all too well, but there's always that part of him that resents having to miss any meal. These internal struggles usually leave him irritated and unfocused, making him more likely to snap. If in these moments the very kids he's trying to help are frightened and run off that just makes him feel worse.
That being said, Finn can become irritable and downright wolfish when he's hungry. In his mind he's starving, even if he isn't. This distemper has gotten him into more than a few fights, eventually landing him with a nasty reputation. He's been referred to as 'feral' more times than Finn cares to admit, or rather, would care to admit if he knew the meaning of the word.
Inheriting his father's quick wit, Finn has grown into a smart mouthed young man. He's got snappy come backs for anyone's sass, usually followed up by some sort of grin or even by sticking his tongue out. It's a defense mechanism around the larger, more aggressive street punks. As ready as he is to start up a fight, Finn's a very small boy, and even with all of his spunk he just wouldn't stand a chance in a physical fight. So, when he isn't looking for ways to hide or stab them in the back, he uses his words. He finds a sort of pride in being able to disarm and stump his opponents through verbal wit alone. As always, this is most often employed when either defending his food from bullies, or when he wants to distract someone as he steals their snacks.
However, unlike his brother, Tac, Finn has no desire to put his growing intelligence to any real use. Book learning is just something he has no way of accessing right now, not that Finn has any desire to try. He detests reading, studying is a bore, and having to sit down to focus on any of it is as good as torture for him. He's a 'hands on' learner. Any lesson that is taught to him has to be interactive, or it simply goes through one ear and out the other. Dusty old scrolls and tomes aren't going to fill his belly, so why bother?
The one true connection he still has with his brother is their affinity for magic. However, he is much less controlled than Tac. Finn likes magic; he also likes it when things go boom! In these moments he can truly let loose. Magic for him is a source of excitement, and while he shows great talent for it, what few tutors he could con into talking to him refused to teach him. It's simple. They were smart enough to fear what a chaotic magic user might inflict upon the world.
This isn't his intent, however. Finn isn't mean spirited (at least, not when he's full). He just likes living on the edge. Even his own mother compared him to a natural storm; something pure, beautiful, but ultimately too wild to be contained.
This kid has limited to zero patience. He's rude, openly antagonistic, and can be down right callous when he wants to be. If speaking with someone doesn't yield immediate results then he straight up doesn't have the time to care about them, or what they have to say. Time is money, and if grandma isn't going to pay him for helping her across the street then he doesn't have the time to stick around.
He isn't like that all the time, but rarely does he get the chance to show anything that isn't prickly in nature. Finn's lack of resources and support simply means that he's either straight to the point, or he could possibly go a night without supper, which is not acceptable.
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2016 11:57 am
▼History▼
All great legends spring from humble beginnings.
Long before the alkidike extremists ever made their way to Sauti, a little family lived peacefully in Yael. They were nestled in the settlement of Pajore, safely tucked away in the country's capitol. Their story is one of great love, as well as great tragedy...
It all began with a young mage who frequently traveled for training and more knowledge in his art. Eager in his studies, Parheath had wandered in a nomadic fashion, going from village to village with his books and notes. After hearing tale of an accomplished teacher in Illidan, Parheath journeyed to seek him out. Such a man was found, but declared no time or patience wannabe pupils. However, the scholars’s daughter, Miv, was smitten instantly. Parheath was a rugged man with a quick wit to boot. She was of the softer sort, and playful; a perfect match.
The young mage had found something much more precious in Ilidan than knowledge. His love for Miv had been strong, and he was overcome with joy when she announced she was expecting. Magic was set aside in favor of a merchants job; something simple and quick to see coin. It didn't bring much fortune to the couple, but the stability earned them a place to live.
The birth of Tacrith came with great joy and great sorrow. Miv passed mere moments after bringing her son into the world, but not before her child gazed upon his mother. It was a simple act; one of an innocent babe seeking out it's mother, and yet, it was enough to give Miv peace. Unable to muster enough energy to be scared of her coming end, Miv passed easily into death with her arms wrapped tight about her infant son. Heartbroken, Parheath took his son back to the settlement of his birth, and thus his adventuring days came to an end.
Tac was raised with the assistance of Parheath's parents, and grew into a quiet sort of boy. Reserved, with an eagerness to learn that matched his fathers. Tacrith spent his days admist the tomes of old, avoiding the very same children that sought to mock him simply for being himself. There was a lot of concerned rumors circulating about Tacrith's origins, the most prevalent being that he was cursed and that was the reason his mother had passed during his birth. It certainly didn't help that the boy would rather have spent his time studying than socializing, thus giving more fuel to the rumor mill. It seemed to be a never ending cycle, one that Tacrith had long since accepted. At the time, his studies and family were enough for the boy. Little did he know that life would take an interesting turn.
Shortly after his third name day, Parheath took his son to meet what would soon be his new 'mother'. She was a very warm, very plump Limbara tamer by the name of Yuura. The younger woman had come to love Pajore so much that she moved from Jodove just to live there. She had little in the way of family, and with no strong attachments to those who remained, the move came easily enough to her. For years there was little to occupy her beyond her scaly friends; the young were as good as her own children, and their parents were trusted confidants. Lovers came and went with the seasons. That is, until she met him.
There was a time in which Parheath had been the pursuer, but this time it was not so. Yuura had set her sites on the man from the moment they first spoke. She was the bold sort; the kind of creature who got what she wanted in the end. And indeed, Yuura was very pleased when Parheath finally came around. Not only was she gaining a husband, but a son as well! Young Tac, who was apprehensive at first, soon came to understand that Yuura didn't care about his 'curse'. As far as she was concerned Tac was a blessing, and a wonderfully charming young man. She accepted him as he was; as a true mother should.
Soon after the union of Parheath and Yuura a second son was born. The babe was to be named Finnufarinel, after the great Limbara tamer of old who was said to have been born straight from Yael's soil. He whose legends had resonated so deeply within Yuura that it shaped her very way of life.
In what seemed like mere moments the babe grew and grew some more. He fussed with his scaly brethren, chased after his brother with a ferocity only known to children, and played so hard that he would often fall asleep as soon as he stopped moving. Yuura remained in constant awe of his unyielding fountain of energy, and often told him that if he had been born with fins he would have swam away years ago. For a time all was well.
But alas, as the saying goes, "all good things must come to an end".
When the 'strangers' landed on Yael, Parheath and Yuura were exploring the Western reaches of the island. While the family home remained in Pajove, the family had decided to explore the land as Parheath had done in his youth. It seemed a good way to expose their sons to nature, and to show them basic survival techniques. At the time they were unaware of the dangers they were moving closer and closer towards.
It was only when the family moved closer to the coast that they discovered the horrible, ugly truth; they were not alone. A scouting group of alkidike happened upon their camp in the dawn's light, and attacked. What Limbara Yuura had brought with her battled the warriors as best they could, alerting the still sleeping family very quickly as to what was happening just outside of their tents. Parheath reached for his runes while his wife grasped her whip. Both parents struggled with leaving their sons, but it was ultimately decided that they had no choice. They would have to fight these creatures, or be killed themselves.
Finn didn't want his parents to leave; he attached himself to his mother's hip, pulling at her skirt with clenched hands. He bawled and pleaded with her not to leave him. She did her best to shush her son, and told him that they wouldn't be gone for long at all. All he needed to do was be a quiet boy, and stay close to his brother. Seeing how distressed his youngest had become spurned Parheath into stepping forward. He presented his sons with identical necklaces; simple things, really, but the pendant was a true rune stone. He touched the runes, illuminating them with light as he murmured a vague spell. In his heart he knew the magic would fade the moment he stepped away, but hopefully it would be enough to comfort his sons.
"Wear these, and know that we're with you always. Talk to them as you would us; tell them your joys, your fears, your sorrows and your victories. Your runes are the same, and do you know why? They are to remind you each day that the greatest spells in the world can never match the sanctuary given to you by your brother."
Parheath embraced both of his boys before exiting the tent with his wife on his heels. Although he could see little beyond vague shadows across tent covering, Finn could hear it all. He clung to Tac and tried his best to remain quiet, but the sounds coming from outside...the screaming, the explosive sounds of magic, the charging Limbara...
All at once Yuura returned, coated with blood both from her wounds and those of her enemy. She scooped Finn into her arms, grasped Tacrith's hand and told them both to run. His mother whistled thrice, summoning a mulish creature to her side. Finn asked over and over where their father was, but Yuura couldn't answer. How was she supposed to explain that Parheath was dead, when they very well might follow him soon? Most of Yuura's 'battalion' were mortally wounded or dead, only having taken down a handful of the freakish attackers. She placed Finn atop the beast, then heft Tac up to sit behind him. The action had already drawn more than a few looks their way, and Yuura wasted no time in ordering the creature to run. When it hesitated she used her own whip on it's flank, jump starting the beast into a dead run.
Any thought of escape was cut off by the pounding thuds of an alkidike rider chasing after them. Their mount took hard turns, trying to throw off it's pursuer, but the strange thing she rode was faster, even on such unfamiliar terrain. On one such curve their mount jumped into a shallow ravine, and the force of the landing knocked Finn from his seat. He struggled to hang on, to grasp onto his brother, onto anything, but found himself falling. The spooked creature kept on, unconsciously separating the boy from his only surviving family. The alkidike rider sailed over the ditch, too keen on chasing after Tac to notice the prey she left behind. In an instant both were out of sight, leaving Finn on his own.
While he may have been spared, Finn knew in his heart that Tacrith wouldn't be. Too scared to call out for him, the boy remained in his ditch throughout the day and long into the night until the chill forced him to move. He traveled up the coast line, doing his best to stay as hidden as possible. Days turned into months, and months became a year before Finn finally felt brave enough to seek out others. He had scraped by in the woods as best he could, but the boy was tired, so tired, and fearful that every day would be his last.
Naked, bruised and half starved the boy stumbled his way towards a fisherman's boat. If only he had known that this man, this burly, angry man wasn't a potential savior then perhaps he would have taken his chances in the woods.
Lyr was a shrewd, cruel man with little in the way of possessions or coin. He was getting on in years when a young Finn bumbled into his life, babbling on about horrible demons with black eyes. Of course he knew what they were; he also knew where not to go to avoid them, but the boy...Finn didn't know these demons were just strangers who had been dumped here, just like their ancestors. He thought they were true demons, come to wipe out every Yaeli they saw, and Lyr used that to his advantage.
Since he lived on his own in an isolated shack by the coast, Lyr was able to spin a convincing lie. He told Finn that there was no safe place for him on the island, but so long as he worked for Lyr then whenever the demons came after them they could both use the boat to get away. Traumatized and desperate, Finn eagerly believed every word.
At first he didn't argue when Lyr forced him to do tasks well beyond what a child was capable of. He kept trying, forcing himself to do a little more each day, but nothing seemed to please the old man. It made Finn anxious and irritable. At any moment the old man might toss him out because he wasn't pulling his weight, and then where would he be? Dead, just like his family.
Any 'mistake' was punishable, no matter the severity. Finn was often whipped, forced to sleep outside (even during foul weather), and forced to work whole days by himself while Lyr 'supervised'. What he hated the most, however, was when Lyr would refuse to feed him. Food was something that was 'earned', and when Finn messed up he went without. Some nights Lyr would even eat in front of the child just to prove his point, knowing full well Finn had done nothing wrong and hadn't had a scrap to gnaw on in days.
By the time he was ten Finn assumed Yael had been over run by tall, buglike women. The Gods had either forsaken them, or sought to punish them; either way, Finn wasn't staying any longer than he had to. In his mind they didn't have much longer before the demons found them, and every night he prayed to his families spirits to give him the strength to last just one more day. One more day to grow up just enough so that when he ran away he could make it.
Unfortunately, lack of proper nutrition stunted Finn's growth. Even in his early teens he was small; much smaller than he should have been. So, when Lyr announced he would be leaving for a few weeks, supposedly on a 'scouting' trip, Finn seized his chance. He was going to raid Lyr's shack and eat anything he could get his hands on. When the day finally came for his guardian to leave, Finn hid himself outside of the shack, barely keeping patient enough for the old man to leave...
...when he heard Lyr talk about something strange. He mentioned the festival, which left Finn stumped. Why would they still be having a festival to remember Gods that had forsaken them? Confused and more than a little curious, Finn chose to trail Lyr on his 'trip'. What he found infuriated him.
A settlement. A thriving, full blown settlement with vendors selling sweet meat and small children running around with ribbons in their hair. Just what was going on? It was obvious that Lyr had lied to him, but if everything he knew was a lie...then what was the truth?
Deciding to stay for the time being, Finn turned his hatred into a fuel for his own survival. The desperation to fill his stomach at times has driven the boy to morally corrupt acts. He'll steal from anyone with little regard as to their personal situation so long as it suits his own needs. He's a jaded youth whose quick temper has brought him to the edge of murder many a time.
After all, what good are morals when no one around you really cares if you have them?
Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2016 12:02 pm
▼Relationships▼
Yuura & Parheath - Parents / Deceased. Tacrith - Older Half-Brother / Presumed to be deceased. Lyr - Former guardian. Gruff, cruel man.
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2016 12:04 pm
▼Familiars▼
Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2016 12:05 pm
▼RP Log▼
Prentice [5] From The Same Tree We Fell - Tac/Ze [5] Please, sir, may I have some more? - Ze
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Posted: Tue Aug 23, 2016 12:07 pm
▼Battle Log▼
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2017 12:58 pm
▼Prentice Solo - One▼
The coasts of Yael had yielded much for the trained fisherman; after he had stolen the proper tools to fish with, of course. Eventually he had been caught, his payload stripped, and Finn had been lucky to make it out with the fish in his belly. The plan was to take as much of the haul with him as possible, and save it -as best he could- until his next meal. That had been several days ago, and while Finnufarinel was more than used traveling long distances on an empty stomach he didn’t particularly enjoy it.
Especially in this heat.
Shade was hard to come by, and the hot stones burned blisters onto the bottoms of his feet. He tried to hide out during the day, and walk only at night, but there were creatures in that hunted at night. Things that little bursts of magic couldn’t scare off. So, Finn had stuck to moving during the day, and was currently hiding out in a small alcove in Pajore, just south of the Sanctum.
A few natives had tried talking to him in passing, but many more stayed away. His strange appearance gave him the wide berth he desired and those brave enough to come close were met with open, feral snarling. The city guard were the only ones that watched him now, choosing to pause occasionally on their patrol to look down the dirty little alley at the lone boy.
He sat with his back pressed against the building, knees drawn up to his chest. Finn was trying to stay alert, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. His entire body ached from the cramping; cramping Finn assumed to be from hunger. That was nothing knew; the sweat making his dark skin shine was, however. It dripped into his bloodshot eyes and made them burn. The teenager could feel himself panting like some kind of animal, but couldn’t find it in him to stop.
Finn was just too tired to care.
-------
When he woke up, surprised at first to find that he had fallen asleep, Finn heard voices precariously close to him. At first he thought it was just the city guard, keeping an eye on him as per usual, but the conversation seemed strange to his tired mind.
"I'd stay away from that one."
Was he warning the other guards away or-?
"Kid." The strange voice jostled Finn out of his musings, almost as much as the sound of knuckles knocking against the stone above his head.
Finn jerked his head up quickly, and instantly regretted it. His vision swam, taking his stomach with it. He hurriedly put a hand over his mouth before putting his head between his knees. The foreigner cursed sharply, and moved away from Finn; whether to give the boy space or to protect his wardrobe, the boy didn't care. There was nothing to expel; just a nauseous feeling that made him fearful of losing what fish he had managed to fry. For a moment he stayed there, hunched forward with nearly every vertebrae he possessed pressing against the skin of his back. When he was finally able to breath normally, the boy ventured to look back up again.
And look up he did. Finn squinted his eyes against the filtered sunlight to really look at the man. At first he had assumed it was another guard, but this one wasn’t a guard. He was too skinny for that, with far less armor. The boy wasn’t aware that as he was gawking, his head was listing this way and that, finally coming to rest against the building’s exterior wall. This man was blue, and his eyes were...gold? And that hair almost looked yaeli purple in the sunlight, with ears that reached for the very stars themselves. How did they do that? What sort of spell had he used to keep them upright?
Finn’s left knee fell to the side, leaving only one tucked up to his bare, scarred chest. His bodily scars weren’t what kept the others away, though; it was the rather large, gnarly one that ran from the skin just above his left eye diagonally across his face. “What?” He snapped. “Go away.”
There was only one thing a foreigner would want from him, and it wasn’t money. Finn wasn’t so sure that he could get away, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Finn was aware of the guard a distance behind, pausing in his patrol to watch the interaction. He had to wonder if the stranger had paid the guard to stay so close or if the city 'muscle' was really that worried about what might happen if he left the two of them alone.
The man seemed to be waiting to see if Finn was going to be truly sick, and when nothing came he dropped carefully to squat at his side, one knee settled uncomfortably on the dirt and rock littered ground of the alley. Now that he was closer there was nothing obscuring the man's bright, golden eyes from Finn's physical state or the scars. He inhaled sharply and leaned away.
Scars matted his body; many of them thick with scar tissue, as if not properly treated. He murmured something under his breath, something that sounded as if it were being listed, and that's when Finn realized he was being assessed. For what he didn't know, but the entire experience made the ill boy uncomfortable.
Why was he getting so close? Finn tried to shuffle away from the man, but that required energy he didn't have. Instead the boy settled on growling, low and raspy. It started out as a small, feral mumble before taking on its full shape. If he so much as touched him Finn was going to-
It came to a head when the man reached out to grip the skin of Finn's forearm in a sharp pinch. Instantaneously Finn yelped and instinctively pulled his arm closer to his chest, massaging the affected skin with his free hand. It was over in an instant, and he seemed more intent on watching the offended skin than taking in any sort of reaction, but to Finn it was an attack never the less.
“What is wrong with you?!” Finn’s voice cracked involuntarily, which only made the grouchy teenager even pissier. He ran his fingers over the skin, working the raised flesh back down until it was flush with the others, as if this wasn’t the first time he had done so.
"You're dehydrated." He said simply, as if that alone were the crux of Finn's problems. "And at risk for severe heat exhaustion, likely due to...well, your homelessness, I think." He leaned away once more and produced a water skin from over his shoulder, uncorking it with one sharp tug of his fingers. “Drink. It’s water.”
When Finn gave him a suspicious look the blue man sighed and lifted the skin to his own lips for a good, hearty drink. Finn tried to focus on the man’s actions, blinking repetitively to keep him in focus. What sort of man would take a drink of poisoned water? That was enough to convince Finn.
Once his demonstration was over, the man moved closer and pressed the skin against the boy’s chest The teenager grunted at the contact, looking sharply at the pushy stranger. Why did he care so much anyway? It was more than a little suspicious, but Finn was in such a bad state that he knew if he didn't take the water now there may not be another chance.
He waited for the man to release it, even moved his hands to take it, but when he didn’t seem eager for it Finn tossed his cares away. The man seemed keen on helping Finn to hold it, so let him. Water was water and he needed it. With shaky arms, he lifted it as far as he could before guzzling down great heavy, mouthfuls. Some part of him knew he should take it slow, but after the first drop had touched his parched, chapped lips Finn was lost. "Slower, or you'll get sick." Even when his arms were too weak to hold it up after more than a few gulps he didn’t let go. Finn merely lowered his head, scrunching the skin under his death like grasp and thrusting the water forcefully upwards into his waiting mouth.
It was over way too fast. Desperately, Finn lifted the skin once more only to find it empty. On impulse he lapped up the remaining droplets around the rim, even going as far as to wipe the back of his mouth off with his hand and licking that as well; taking in every ounce of sweat and grim with it.
As the foreigner put the skin away, Finn chanced a glance upwards and realized that at some point the guard had continued on his patrol. He was angered and relieved all at once. Anyone could make a show of watering a poor, homeless boy only to take him off for their nefarious plans when the guard was no longer watching. And yet, the city guard always made a point of looking at Finn as if it would be better if he didn't exist.
How long had the guard known of his illness and passed him by? Content with just allowing the boy to die? Alone in his filth?
The foreigner moved off of his bent knee with a grunt of discomfort, only to shift and sit, cross-legged, dropping his beads from where they were wrapped around his elbow, bracing them around his knuckles.
So he wasn't just a foreigner but a healer as well.
As Finn regained his breath his rapid drinking, the blue man watched him, as if Finn were some strange beast he had never seen before. One worthy of study.
The boy was still too warm to sleep, but his body was far too exhausted to move and that’s exactly what he should have been doing. Now, while there was an opportunity, he could cause a flare of something and make a break for it.
If he could just get the gumption to move his damn legs...
Instead, Finn coughed, body hunching forward once more. Thankfully, his body didn’t rebel much more than that and he was able to move into a semi-comfortable position, ever watchful of the stranger. He had suffered his entire life, and once he was able to move he would continue to do so. A little sweat never killed anyone.
“You’re suffering from heat exhaustion; most idiots know to seek out water. ...But, I suppose you could have gone to drink the tainted water in the street, which would have put you in a worse position, so, good job, on that.” His words were sarcastic, dry and scolding in equal measure.
“You need water. Obviously. Food is a close second, and rest. I’m willing to provide the chance to get all three until you recover, if you agree to tell me more about your homeland, when you’ve managed to regain human speech.”
Food. Finn almost immediately perked up at the word, piteously licking his lips at the mere thought. It had been so long since his stomach had last growled, let alone been filled with anything of sustenance. But was it worth it? Not much to tell. Everything’s lost. The gods had forsaken them, monsters ravaged the land and...he could get a free meal without even having to do much. Just talk about Yael. Toss in a few memories and bam; job done.
Ultimately he nodded his head in agreement. He would go with him for now; and when he had taken all this fool had to offer Finn would leave.
"What's your name?"
That seemed to bring out a little smile to the man, who had appeared so sharp and cold. "Ivyn Gyrsteig. And you?"
"Finn, just Finn."
(WC: 1988 ) [6]
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▼Prentice Solo - Two▼
His stomach was fit to burst, but Finn didn’t mind it. It was an ache he was unfamiliar with, one that left his queasy stomach with a bit of weight to it. He placed a hand over his distended torso when he moved, touching the roughened skin as his insides sloshed around. At the very least his throat wasn’t burning with every involuntary swallow, and now Finn possessed enough fluids to process saliva, which freed his tongue to talk.
Ever since the foreigner had taken him to the inn with him and seen to his care Finn had begun regularly eating meals. At least, as much as Ivyn would allow him too. The man was far too limiting in Finn's eyes; he made sure the boy got three meals a day and paid the staff not to let him have more than that, on that grounds that Finn's body simply couldn't handle it all just yet.
Finn’s hand moved then from his stomach northward to his necklace. It was a simple leather cord, with a very bright, remarkably well maintained rune dangling like a pendant. At his touch the rune seemed to glow, and even though Finn knew it was his own internal magic causing the light to flare, mentally he imagined his family there, protecting him from a potentially nefarious stranger.
He fingered the cool stone before settling further into a slouch against in his chair. The two of them were set up in the great room, feasting on breakfast with the morning light cresting in through the dirtied windows. Ivyn had a few maps spread out across his half of the small table, making notes here and there with what limited intel Finn could give him.
"What is that you have? A rune?"
Finn snapped to attention and reached out to smack Ivyn's hand away as the man began reaching across the table to touch it. He looked irritated for a moment before settling back in his chair with a sigh. "Sorry, I should have known better, but this is the first time I've seen a rune so close. Did you know that they're stronger than beads? They can amplify your magic far beyond anything that I can accomplish with these." Ivyn lifted his beads for a moment before putting them away.
Not that Finn believed it. In the two days since he had been with Ivyn he had seen the man work tirelessly with his beads. He would occasionally take on small jobs from the locals for coin, but most of his efforts had been poured into getting Finn's internal temperature leveled out. Apparently he had been far worse off than either of them had known; by Ivyn's estimation he could have died that very afternoon if the blue man, now known as an iceling, hadn't come around.
"I've plotted a course, but I still need provisions, so you're welcome to stay with me until then. That being said I am going back up to the room, so-" The iceling folded his maps and stuffed them into his tailored coat, which was lined with more gold than Finn had ever seen in his entire life. As he stood he casually brushed the crumbs of his meal off his trousers and once 'cleaned', he leaned forward and extended his hands, twitching his fingers impatiently for the boy to grasp them, and be pulled to his feet.
Finn wanted to argue that he could stand on his own, as the thought of touching a mainlander disgusted him. However, he also knew it would be a lie, and he had to get up. With a snarly little grunt, he took Ivyn’s hands and pulled himself to his feet-
-only to immediately fall - hard - onto his knees. His hands were still interlaced with Ivyn’s, but the upward movement had caused the entire world to spin around him. For a moment he was scared that his stomach would spill again, but the contents stayed; barely. By gritting his teeth, Finn was able to put first one foot, then the other semi-solidly on the ground to raise himself back up. He wobbled, as it was an obvious strain for him to stay up on his own and would have fell again were it not for the older man’s support.
"Easy, easy. You should have told me you weren't ready, you little idiot."
Ivyn stayed closed and acted as a solid force for Finn to hold onto until he regained his footing. At least, that was how he planned for it to happen; as it turned out Finn still wasn't ready to walk on his own, and Ivyn was forced to guide him to their room.
The entire scene was mortifying for Finn. He hated relying on others. He knew what kind words and a warm hand led to, so he wanted no part in it, much less sharing a room with a stranger. And yet, he had no choice. So instead of fighting it he kept his mouth shut and allowed Ivyn to gently ease him onto the small, worn bed.
"I'll pay the staff to let you stay an additional week, and for a healer to check on you. Knowing your stubbornness you'll be back out on the street in no time. Do try to be nice to them."
Finn merely scrunched up his nose and snorted. Another week of rest and food did sound nice, however, and for that...he may be willing to play 'nice'. Just for a little while longer.
(WC: 922) [3]
Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2017 10:57 am
▼Prentice Solo - Three▼
When Ivyn left he made sure that Finn knew the rules of the inn, and the proper way to act, even if the older man wasn't sure that the street rat would comply with those sorts of rules. Finn merely stretched out on the bed, content in his plethora of blankets and pillows, waving the blue man out of his life while patting the fat coin purse he'd managed to snatch out of the man's belongings just before he'd packed up.
A rare shred of guilt filtered into Finn's head, but he waved it away. That was one of the wealthier men in the world, and to Finn that just meant that whatever he carried on him was more than what he needed. Honestly, he was ripe for the picking.
So, when his time at the inn was spent and the inn-keep, tired of dealing with him more than she ever wanted, ushered him out the back Finn headed straight to the first produce stand he could find. A smarter thief may have purchased necessary boots, or gloves, or even a shirt to protect his flesh from the elements, but all Finn could think about was getting one more shred of grub into his stomach.
As he moved through the street Finn happened upon a group of teenagers. Or, what he thought were teenagers. They roundness in their cheeks and the general naivete surrounding them told him that they were much younger than himself, which was...off putting.
If they were so much younger, then why was one actually taller than himself?
Suddenly getting food didn't seem as important, for the first time in so many years. He knew that Lyr had lied to him; that the world hadn't ended when those demons invaded and that society had carried out without him. He'd learned that much when he first set food in Pajore a few months ago.
It hadn't occurred to him just how much he had missed out on. A few meals had always just meant cramping and a weakness in body, but Finn hadn't considered just how much a good meal meant to a growing boy. His body had needed it to give him any sort of 'manly' appearance, and without it he was stunted; eternally small, for whatever hellish reason the God's, or lack there of, deemed fit.
It just...never bothered him so much before. Around Lyr it was expected that he was smaller. Finn was younger, and that was just the way of things. Now...there were boys three, four years his junior surpassing him in ways that should never have been possible.
Finnufarinel felt cheated. It wasn't supposed to be like this! He had worked so hard to survive, only to come out of life a scarred, abused, stunted mess of a teenager who could barely make it without a stranger's assistance. He wasn't self-sufficent at all, and that bothered Finn the most.
His lack of power. For now he had coin, but what about tomorrow and the next day? Without coin he would need physical strength and stamina to get by, neither of which he possessed. Finn was fast when properly fed and quick minded, but how far would that get him without enough nutrients to keep him going?
For a long time Finn simply stood in the street, thinking back on Ivyn. Maybe...maybe he should have gone with the iceling. After all, the man had offered to take him, but Finn had refused. He'd been too stubborn and self assured, but honestly, he was missing the presence of a bed and someone who actually gave a damn far more than he let on. I have to find him.
Surely he couldn't have gone that far! Finn just had to get a little food in him, and then he would set off to find the man.
And surely, surely Ivyn would take him back.
Hopefully.
(WC: 649) [2]
Painted Moose
Dapper Codger
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Painted Moose
Dapper Codger
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Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2017 12:02 pm
▼Affinity Solo - Finn chooses Sorcerer! ▼
Ivyn was gone.
Finn searched the trails he knew the older man had planned on taking, and after 'asking' - more like demanding- answers from several passerbys he had come to find out that Ivyn had taken off several days ago on an adventure on his own. At least, that's what one of the older men he talked to told him to keep him from knowing the truth.
"Why are you lying to him, dad?" The man's younger son pushed a small cart, loaded down with feed for whatever creature's they tended to, closer to the pair. His father gave him a pointed look, one that clearly said there was more to the story that shouldn't be shared, but that didn't seem to stop the boy. "They found a blue body on the coast a few days ago. Said he was tore up something awful. If that was your friend then he-"
"It wasn't!" Finn bellowed. "Ivyn isn't stupid enough to go that way; he knows about the monsters, I told him-" His hands clenched into fists at his sides as unwanted tears built up in his eyes. Why was he getting so emotional over this? So what if a stranger, one he had stolen from, died? It was just one less foreigner on their land and he should be happy about that.
But to die so brutally, without anyone to tell his family...
And it wasn't as if Ivyn had been a TERRIBLE man. Blunt, yes, but he had gone out of his way to help Finn without expecting any help in return and that...had been something the boy had thought had been taken out of this world.
And now it really had.
"He's not dead, lad." The older man reached out to touch Finn's shoulder, then jerked back with a hiss when a spark of what could only be raw lighting shot up from the boy's skin onto the man's hand. His son lurched forward, shoving Finn away from them and holding up a spaded farming tool in defense. "Don't you hurt him! Get back! I-I'm warning you!"
"I didn't mean-"
"Sure you didn't." The younger farmer stepped in closer, pressing the tip of the spade against Finn's chest when the little yaeli made no move to walk away. "He's in the healer's hut, but if you cause trouble, we'll be there to tear you up."
Finn just cocked an eyebrow. Over the years he had heard a plethora of threats directed his way, but none held as little conviction as this one. The teenager was shaking, even while holding his 'weapon' and Finn knew he wouldn't be able to stop him if Finn really wanted to do damage. That didn't mean he actually wanted to; he just wanted to get to Ivyn and avoid everyone else, so there wasn't really any drama to be had.
He followed the given directions to a small, run down shake on the edge of their village. At first the healer assumed Finn himself needed tending to, but after shooing the older woman away, he found himself at Ivyn's bedside.
The older man looked terrible. He wasn't dead, but that was hardly far from a possibility. His skin was as pale as milk, and the blankets around him were thick with a fevered sweat. From what Finn could see his wounds were extensive; punctures from a blade, slices and gouges, all as infected as the last.
The healer had tried to warn Finn against seeing Ivyn, but he had refused. This was hardly the first time he had seen anyone at death's door and...he felt he owed it to Ivyn to see him.
Finn hesitated a moment before sitting at the edge of Ivyn's bed. He reached out for the cool cloth, that had been resting at the edge of a water bowl, and used it to dab the older man's skin. It seemed to relax the older man, which was comforting in a way that he hadn't expected. Finn wasn't used to caring for others, much less having them care for him, but....well, it only felt fair to do what he could for Ivyn, after all the man had done for him.
Especially since Ivyn wasn't likely to see the morrow. "You froze the water."
Finn snapped his eyes towards Ivyn and found the ghost of a grin on his face. The two looked at each other before turning mutually to the water bowl. "When did I-?"
"When you touched it. I saw it ice over. You have so much potential..." He trailed off, as if speaking the words themselves were too draining. Finn leaned forward, smoothing the cloth around the edges of Ivyn's face and helping to brush away bits of hair that had fallen across his skin. "...you'll never learn how to control it...not here...you have to go-"
"Shut up, you're talking too much." Why was he pressing this issue now? Ivyn had talked to Finn about going to the mainland more than once, but Finn had always refused. As much as he feared the bug beasts this was still his home, and those on the mainland weren't much nicer than the ones they had exiled here. Why would he ever want to go?
"What do you plan to do with your life? Steal until you die? Listen to me while I can still speak, you little idiot." Ivyn grasped Finn's wrist in a shaky hold, one that could have been easily broken out of, but the teenager stayed. There was something desperate about the older man he'd never seen before and honestly...it frightened him. "Y-you have a gift, and gifts you never be wasted. You aren't a cook, you'll never hold a shield, but magic...you could be great..."
"As what? A healer?" He tried not to snort, but it came out anyway. He had never seen a mage yet who didn't use the majority of their magic for healing or casting defensive spells.
"As a sorcerer. You can make storms and bend the world to your will. Use what you have, and have a life that's worth living, Finn. You're still so young; don't waste these years in the streets."
Even though he tried to get the iceling to calm himself, Ivyn was keen on talking. He told Finn about the destructive spells sorcerers could cast, and about how their offensive magic could bring nations to their knees.
"My father used runes, wouldn't he have been able to do the same magic?"
Ivyn shook his head. "They're weaker. Runes are used to conjure, and you're more in tune with yourself. Your magic...your emotions...that's what will rule you. You have to learn how to control it, to-"
Finn couldn't stop what happened after that. It all became one big blur. Ivyn started coughing, and when it turned wet, staining his blue hands red, Finn started screaming for the healer. Nothing the old woman did could stop his friend from coughing, and it took ages to get the man calm enough to lay down. Not long after Ivyn passed from their world into the next, and Finn knew what he had to do.
It was just as Ivyn said. He was never going to be big enough to carry a shield, or strong enough to wield a sword. But he did have magic; and if he could use his magic to get what he needed, then so be it. He would become a sorcerer.
(WC: 1243 ) [4]
Posted: Sat Mar 04, 2017 8:35 pm
▼Prentice Growth Solo! ▼
The morning fog dissipated around a small, glowing ember that seemed to bob and weave as it closed in on the docks. The closer it came to the water the more the figure manipulating that fire became visible until the point where the dock hands could see the emaciated figure of Finnufarinel, clawed hand clutched around a staff that was alight with fire.
Several stopped in their morning work just to gawk at him. He was so much smaller than the hearty sea faring folk, with far less muscle but twice the scars. The only thing about him that seemed fairly respectable was his staff; an item that he'd stolen a few hours earlier from a sleeping sorcerer. Finn hadn't cared that he had broken into the man's home to obtain it anymore than he cared about raiding the man's pantry as he snored on in the room next door. If he was thick enough to sleep through all of that then he deserved to be robbed.
Something about his expression must have tipped off one of the older workers, because within moments of revealing himself the other man tried to shoo the boy away. "We don't have hand outs, kid, and we don't want no trouble so you best bea-"
Finn lifted a healthy, fat coin purse of coin into the air and shoved it at the older sailor's chest. The act took the man by surprise, so much that for a moment he feared he would be attacked, and it took him far longer than it should have to realize it was only money.
"All of it. It's yours if you take me away from here."
"All of it?" The sailor recovered from his shock and opened the purse, only to openly whistle. He gave Finn the sort of look that made him wonder if he was being assessed as a thief or not, but it didn't seem to matter to this man. "I'll take ya, but I meant what I said; no trouble. First bit of magic from that staff of yers or if'n ya cause a stink we won't go easy on ya. My boys don't tolerate thieves."
And as simply as that, an accord was struck. Finn was informed that the crew was preparing to ship out soon, so he could go ahead and make his way to aboard if he wanted to. The young man took a few steps forward, only to hesitate and turn his upper torso to look back out at Yael.
In these early morning hours everything looked almost nice. You could forget the demons and heartless, callous people that called this place home with a fog that thick choking the life out of the island.
Somewhere out there his brother was tucked into his nice, warm bed sleeping the hours away. His stomach would be full, his skin clean of mites and other parasites, and with a friend in the priesthood to share his meals with. He should have been able to wish his brother good luck in his endeavors but honestly, Finn wanted to spit on it. Wasn't Tacrith supposed to be the cursed one? He didn't seem to 'cursed' from Finn's point of view. His brother had made it through the ordeal that took their parents away with only a limp while Finn, on his worst days, licked rocks hoping to pick up bits of salt.
He lived like an animals while Tac- Finn paused in his musings. An animal, hrm? Wasn't that what he had been compared to? Something feral; a beast, unworthy of any common courtesies. If that was what the world thought of him, then why not live up to that? He would become the strongest of the beasts, the most powerful and fearsome to live and become a legend in his own right. The world would bow before his might and he would see those antennaed freaks, the very same bitches who had killed his parents, burn to ash.
The fire that had led him to the docks fizzled out atop his staff until all that could be seen were the torches burning bright atop the ship.
As ready as he was for a new life, Finn was still a boy of just fourteen years; still so young, so inexperienced, and leaving the only home, the only life, he'd ever known for the promise of an unknown start was daunting. He didn't know what lay beyond that ocean; in fact, Finn had only ever heard stories, and the majority hadn't been good. But if he stayed here he would die in a ditch; that much was true. Ivyn knew the truth of it. No one on Yael would teach him, for fear of causing some great affront to the gods, but if he went to the mainland he might stand a chance.
Except, there was no if. He was going.
Finn wasn't going to stay on Yael a moment longer than he had to. Already his legs were carrying him forward, passed crates of valuable merchandise and up the ramp that would carrying him aboard the ship. All that was left on Yael was an abusive old man, a brother he didn't even know anymore, and false Gods.
His only shot at true power lay beyond the horizon and Finn wasn't about to shy away from it. When his feet hit the smooth, worn wood of the deck he felt in his heart that his was the right decision. There was nothing left on Yael for him, but bad memories and dead ends, but here...
..even through the fog he could see the never ending ocean and it thrilled him to the core. Finn found himself moving further and further until he was at the front of the ship, resting his staff against the railing so he could just look out over the water. Seeing it out of his peripheral, with the water as a background, just cemented his choice; for the first time in so long he was actually genuinely excited for something beyond food.
And that seemed like a pretty good deal to him.
(1022)
((Finn is taking a chance at leaving the only home he's ever known for a better life in a land he's only heard of through rumors. His magic is still unstable, but he believes it will be enough to see him through because surely taking a chance on an uncertain future is better than inevitably dying in a ditch))
