Difference between revisions of "Rea Family"

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The Palms were quiet tonight. Darren relaxed, leaning up against a short sandstone wall surrounding the tower balcony. His brother had been welcomed like royalty, with Dominic's commanding demeanor easily wooing the local 'ruling' peasants. They'd been put up for the night, and given a small mountain of local culinary delights, all because Dom had flashed some gold at them. Darren wished he could get others to follow him so easily. He'd never been much of a leader, preferring leave that noise to others. He sighed, mentally chewing on how he'd gotten into this mess. He had always preferred to spend his day (and night) in a whore house, drinking and, well, making merry. Of course, his father had never appreciated his approach to life, and they'd rowed many times about it. Darren had moved from the family home at 18 - travelling as far away from the family home as he could.
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He snorted to himself. He'd been a thickheaded brute when he first came ashore, all those years ago. He'd sat in the city for a while, that first time. The lands had felt just as cold and barren then too. He frowned. He'd followed orders then, if only to bask in the glory, and the woman, that came with being a troop leader. He'd gotten quite a lot of honor, fighting for Candiels, and the fields surrounding it. Prestige, and woman. So many woman. He smiled, thinking of some of the more..... interesting nights he'd had. One woman had been very creative with his mace. Another had brought some friends. Yet another had brought a dwarf man along. That had been one hell of an evening. For a time, he had been content. He shifted on the wall, looking out across the palms, reminiscing. He'd even respected Ulfang at the time. Then, he'd stepped away. For a few years, he'd dropped out of the noble courts, preferring to tell ladies tall tales about his fighting prowess, then actually, well, fighting.
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A light breeze brushed across the palms, caressing Darren's cheek on it's way east. He wondered how it might have turned out, had he not left the Courts. Perhaps he might still be a thug following orders. That would have been simpler, certainly. No, he thought. He had had to leave the Courts, otherwise he never would have grown as a person. He hadn't gone wrong there.
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Naturally over time, his stories of grandiose heroics grew stale, and the woman moved on to fresher spoils. He'd had to rejoin the Courts, putting up for a small unit, and taking up a new estate, once again, under the King. He waited, with baited breath, ready to lead his men to glory once again. He waited. And waited some more. For 25 days, he received only a handful of letters, and nothing of note. Nothing about the army, nothing about where to lead his swords. He had paced the halls of his new estate, lashing out at anyone who dared to interrupt his brooding. His return hadn't been anything like he imagined. He'd taken to swordbouts at the academy, taking his frustrations out on his sparing partners. Then the reports started to come in, from Paisly. Strange fogs, and nightmare creatures roaming the streets. He'd jumped at the rumors. After all, woman loved scary stories. He'd figured it was just some peasant dressing up, or maybe a slightly larger then normal wolf. Boy, had he been wrong. He'd sent letters out, detailing his 'expedition'. Instead of praise for his grand crusade, he only gotten squaked at by Baal, the Master of Coin. He was blamed for not doing the King's job for him and getting his name added to the army rosters, and called out for "abandoning the realm". He smiled. At least he had made one good choice in his career, he'd told Baal to buzz off then, too. Darren rolled his eyes. Baal was always sticking his nose into other peoples business. Ulfang had put a stop to their bickering, simply placing Darren in the army, and saying no more. Darren already left, halfway to Paisly by the time it was sorted. No matter, he'd thought, he would join the army when he returned.
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They'd hit the fog shortly before the city, thick as soup.  Darren had ordered them forward, having his men beat the captain until he agreed to sail into the fog. They'd been lost in the mists for almost a day before it cleared, sudden daylight making everyone on board cheer aloud. Darren had blamed the captain once they reached shore, proceeding have the ferry sunk with the captain forced to watch helplessly. He'd laughed. Darren closed his eyes. God, what a cruel and childish order. He remembered reveling in the ferry captain's 'misfortune', callously condemning the man for 'his' failure to navigate. He bent down, resting his head on the cool sandstone, trying to come to terms with his past mistakes.
 
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Revision as of 04:58, 24 July 2019

The Rea family originated on the East Continent, in the region Viseu, the realm Caligus. The family home has since been moved to Outer Tilog city, Outer Tilog realm.

Nobles

The Palms were quiet tonight. Darren relaxed, leaning up against a short sandstone wall surrounding the tower balcony. His brother had been welcomed like royalty, with Dominic's commanding demeanor easily wooing the local 'ruling' peasants. They'd been put up for the night, and given a small mountain of local culinary delights, all because Dom had flashed some gold at them. Darren wished he could get others to follow him so easily. He'd never been much of a leader, preferring leave that noise to others. He sighed, mentally chewing on how he'd gotten into this mess. He had always preferred to spend his day (and night) in a whore house, drinking and, well, making merry. Of course, his father had never appreciated his approach to life, and they'd rowed many times about it. Darren had moved from the family home at 18 - travelling as far away from the family home as he could. He snorted to himself. He'd been a thickheaded brute when he first came ashore, all those years ago. He'd sat in the city for a while, that first time. The lands had felt just as cold and barren then too. He frowned. He'd followed orders then, if only to bask in the glory, and the woman, that came with being a troop leader. He'd gotten quite a lot of honor, fighting for Candiels, and the fields surrounding it. Prestige, and woman. So many woman. He smiled, thinking of some of the more..... interesting nights he'd had. One woman had been very creative with his mace. Another had brought some friends. Yet another had brought a dwarf man along. That had been one hell of an evening. For a time, he had been content. He shifted on the wall, looking out across the palms, reminiscing. He'd even respected Ulfang at the time. Then, he'd stepped away. For a few years, he'd dropped out of the noble courts, preferring to tell ladies tall tales about his fighting prowess, then actually, well, fighting. A light breeze brushed across the palms, caressing Darren's cheek on it's way east. He wondered how it might have turned out, had he not left the Courts. Perhaps he might still be a thug following orders. That would have been simpler, certainly. No, he thought. He had had to leave the Courts, otherwise he never would have grown as a person. He hadn't gone wrong there. Naturally over time, his stories of grandiose heroics grew stale, and the woman moved on to fresher spoils. He'd had to rejoin the Courts, putting up for a small unit, and taking up a new estate, once again, under the King. He waited, with baited breath, ready to lead his men to glory once again. He waited. And waited some more. For 25 days, he received only a handful of letters, and nothing of note. Nothing about the army, nothing about where to lead his swords. He had paced the halls of his new estate, lashing out at anyone who dared to interrupt his brooding. His return hadn't been anything like he imagined. He'd taken to swordbouts at the academy, taking his frustrations out on his sparing partners. Then the reports started to come in, from Paisly. Strange fogs, and nightmare creatures roaming the streets. He'd jumped at the rumors. After all, woman loved scary stories. He'd figured it was just some peasant dressing up, or maybe a slightly larger then normal wolf. Boy, had he been wrong. He'd sent letters out, detailing his 'expedition'. Instead of praise for his grand crusade, he only gotten squaked at by Baal, the Master of Coin. He was blamed for not doing the King's job for him and getting his name added to the army rosters, and called out for "abandoning the realm". He smiled. At least he had made one good choice in his career, he'd told Baal to buzz off then, too. Darren rolled his eyes. Baal was always sticking his nose into other peoples business. Ulfang had put a stop to their bickering, simply placing Darren in the army, and saying no more. Darren already left, halfway to Paisly by the time it was sorted. No matter, he'd thought, he would join the army when he returned. They'd hit the fog shortly before the city, thick as soup. Darren had ordered them forward, having his men beat the captain until he agreed to sail into the fog. They'd been lost in the mists for almost a day before it cleared, sudden daylight making everyone on board cheer aloud. Darren had blamed the captain once they reached shore, proceeding have the ferry sunk with the captain forced to watch helplessly. He'd laughed. Darren closed his eyes. God, what a cruel and childish order. He remembered reveling in the ferry captain's 'misfortune', callously condemning the man for 'his' failure to navigate. He bent down, resting his head on the cool sandstone, trying to come to terms with his past mistakes.

Adventurers

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