Post by blacknoise on Sept 16, 2015 17:12:18 GMT
Voices rose above the bustle of the street outside of The Horse Head Public House. Guards, rich and common men alike mingled inside, singing rousingly and drinking everything from the most expensive beer from the back to the crap they poured from steel barrels. The current selection was a well known, repetitive ditty that the bouncer never let them sing. However, the bouncer wasn't around. So they sung, both those that thought they could sing and those that they knew they couldn't.
"In a rose tattoo!
In a rose tattoo!
I've got your name written here,
In a rose tattoo!"
In a rose tattoo!
I've got your name written here,
In a rose tattoo!"
The doors to the pub slammed open, the rousing singing died down fairly quickly as the patrons took in the sight at the door. Late for work and hungover, the faun in a top hat and ragged shirt smoked a long pipe as his eyes drug themselves over the patrons. Eoin, for that was his name, was not fond of loud singing. In fact, he was not fond of many things, laughter, happiness, joviality of any sort really.
But he wasn't always this way. Eoin was once one of the most jovial fauns to roam the forests outside of Etirath. That was many, many years ago, but I'll tell you the story anyway. After I'm finished, you'll know that Eoin isn't like us, not at all.
Most Fauns don't live longer than humans, that's cause their blood is mingled with the humans. Not one of them would admit to it, but I'll tell you that there has been more than one case of a Faun falling in love with a human in the past years. If you ever find a human with a particularly thick skull or who grows a bit too much hair on their legs, they've got some Faun blood in them. However, a pureblood Faun is different and very rare. These ones live for hundreds of years.
”Father, how do we fit into this world?”
”We care for the forests, Eoin.”
”No, I mean, how did we come about to exist?”
”I’m not sure, some believe that we were once humans, blessed by Milova with the power to help keep these forests beautiful for mankind.”
”So we serve humans?”
”In a way, is that so bad, though? We have a purpose, that’s more than most can say.”
”We care for the forests, Eoin.”
”No, I mean, how did we come about to exist?”
”I’m not sure, some believe that we were once humans, blessed by Milova with the power to help keep these forests beautiful for mankind.”
”So we serve humans?”
”In a way, is that so bad, though? We have a purpose, that’s more than most can say.”
Eoin and his family were once one of the last of the pureblood Fauns. His family lived in a small cottage in the middle of the woods where they practiced druidry and took care of the land around them. Eoin was the oldest of two, his younger sister a full ten years younger than him, he was already a man by the time she was old enough to think she could take care of herself. He loved his sister, with whom he shared so many great games, he loved his father, who taught him bravery and selflessness, and he loved his mother, who taught him gentleness. Eoin believed he would grow, live, and die after a few centuries, with an uneventful, glad life.
He was wrong.
Sayre and his bloodborne army descended upon Etirath like a tsunami of death and destruction. The week Sayre arrived was a blur for Eoin, his parents immediately took up arms and magic to fight him, telling Eoin to take his sister to the North where they’d be safe. Eoin refused, wanting to stand with his parents and they made the mistake of hiding his sister and letting him. Within their first battle, both his parents were killed, along with the entire army of Etirath, and Eoin fled for his life. He ran faster than any human could ever hope to move, rushing to the small hideout where his sister was supposed to stay put.
If he could just get to her, he could take her away, they could live somewhere else. They didn’t need the well of magic to survive, they could tend a forest somewhere else. As tears streamed down his face, he tried as hard as possible to get his mind away from the images of his fallen parents. However, when he arrived at the cottage, something far worse awaited him.
”Eoin.”
”Yes?”
”Always take care of Mereth. When your mother and I dead and gone, she will be all you have.
”I know.”
”No, you don’t, because you haven’t lost someone yet. Everything dies, your mother and I will long before you two do. Mereth has a sweet heart, kinder than anyone I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t be more proud of here. I am entrusting her to you, understand? You will see to it that she finds a good suitor, that she keeps well her children. You’re to be what “ can’t when I’m gone.”
”...”
”Do you understand?”
”Yes, I’ll take care of her. She’ll always be safe with me.”
”Yes?”
”Always take care of Mereth. When your mother and I dead and gone, she will be all you have.
”I know.”
”No, you don’t, because you haven’t lost someone yet. Everything dies, your mother and I will long before you two do. Mereth has a sweet heart, kinder than anyone I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t be more proud of here. I am entrusting her to you, understand? You will see to it that she finds a good suitor, that she keeps well her children. You’re to be what “ can’t when I’m gone.”
”...”
”Do you understand?”
”Yes, I’ll take care of her. She’ll always be safe with me.”
When Eoin arrived at the hideout, he found his sister hanging from a branch, drained of blood. He was too late, one of Sayre’s minions had raided the forest, setting it ablaze and killing everyone he found within. Perhaps, if Eoin had simply stayed with her, he could have protected her. But as fire licked up the trees and Eoin’s face seemed permanently locked in a silent scream, he couldn’t think of anything at all. Taking down her body, senses numbed, Eoin fought through the blaze and made it to the other side of the forest, away from Etirath and all that was within.
Even with much of his body burned, Eoin ignored his own wounds to bury his sister. He was a Faun, he would heal, he was sure of it. Indeed, much of his wounds healed on their own, though they left scars, However, his lungs would never be the same after breathing in so much smoke and tainted blood on the wind of the battlefield. Unable to breathe without difficulty, Eoin could never run with vigor ever again. Confined to a walk, Eoin wandered the area around Etirath for years, then he went and sailed upon the sea for even longer, until one day he meet a man who would convince him to return to the city.
He was no different than anyone else, or at least he didn’t let on to it. He found Eoin sitting on a stone, smoking a pipe and carving a carving a flute, the being hadn’t seen a pureblood faun before, especially not one like Eoin; shirtless, covered in tattoos and scars the faun entertained the being’s questions, asking a few of his own. When the man asked about a small, rose tattoo that seemed comprised of a name, Eoin spilled his life story, laying out how he failed his sister and his family, how he could never go back, how he was doomed to never rest. The man listened, then told a story of his own. Eoin stuck around, and they spent many hours together.
By the end, Eoin had been convinced to return. The man’s name was Arthur.
”I still feel, empty, friend.”
”It’ll pass, or it might not.”
”So what, then?”
”So live your life. Honor your family’s memories by living the life that was stolen from them.”
”...”
”Alright.”
”It’ll pass, or it might not.”
”So what, then?”
”So live your life. Honor your family’s memories by living the life that was stolen from them.”
”...”
”Alright.”
Sitting down in the Pub as the patrons slowly going back to their drinks, spirits fallen, Eoin took a long drag from his pipe and looked up. Slowly, in a low, scratchy voice, he started singing.
Some may be from showing up
Others are from growing up
Sometimes I was so messed up and didn't have a clue
I ain't winning no one over
I wear it just for you
I've got your name written here
Others are from growing up
Sometimes I was so messed up and didn't have a clue
I ain't winning no one over
I wear it just for you
I've got your name written here
It was slow, at first, but soon the patrons smiled and joined in. They knew the words. How could they forget? Everyone had their scars, loves won and lost, families broken and siblings fallen. But they would not be forgotten, these men would keep on living the lives that others couldn’t. This was the purpose of the living.
"In a rose tattoo!
In a rose tattoo!
I've got your name written here,
In a rose tattoo!"
In a rose tattoo!
I've got your name written here,
In a rose tattoo!"
Maybe he’s not so different from the rest of us, after all.
Name: Eoin
Age: 76, appears to be early 30s.
Race: Faun
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10
Weight: 179lbs
Rank: Civvie
Skills: Adept Druidry : Having been given a renewed interest in druidry thanks to Loretta, Eoin has dedicated himself to study of the old tomes in order to learn new and complex spells, potions, poisons, and beer recipes.
Adept Herbalist : As part of his study of druidry, he has become quite the herbalist.
Adept cook
Adept kickboxer
Very physically strong
Spells:
Lightning : In stormy weather, Eoin is able to call down lightning at will.
Wind : Eoin is able to direct air streams and wind flow to better spread poisons and keep toxic substances away from himself and others if needed.
Rain : Through a complex ritual, Eoin may summon a rainstorm, though he would need to be left without distraction for some time.
Growth : Eoin is able to grow plants and keep plants from dying at will and with ease.