Fronslin
Good
Fronslin stood at the entrance to the tall tree. His new Favorite Tree. This tall giant reached up to the clouds, Standing alone as it's only kind on the island.
Where had it come from? Did someone Plant it here?
He thought of the ceremony days before where he had finally managed to marry Valtae. And the events that had led up to it.
He had a place to be alone. A place to build his own world for a time, Even if there was not much time left in his mind.
He somberly smiled, Humming a bittersweet tune as he paced the roots of the grand tree, Forgotten to time.
He arrived at the back, Taking out a pipe and lighting it with his focus before quickly bringing the bellowing piece up to his mouth, Finding the halfling's leaf calming in these troubled times.
He paced around trying to figure out what had bothered him months ago so much
Vyrism had changed, Friends had turned... No one had made any notices. No one had warned other people. Vyre attacks had flourished and the only outlet he had been offered was on the side of the bloodline he had once been apart of. The youthful lie behind his body was betrayed by his ageless eyes. He was a mage. One who was not exactly beholden to a god. A peculiar situation where without the right context his actions wouldn't be vindicated and he would be on a straight path to death from a mob and a curse from a god.
"The path of red." *He'd say mid exhale, Coughing.*
Don't look for fights, Protect your home and your passion.
Do not needlessly spill the blood of your enemies.
Wise words from a fallen god.
Not ones he could actively worship, but something that he had forgotten in his mad stupor not so long ago.
I don't... hate the vyres.. I actually enjoyed my time as one years ago. But it is and will continue to be a betrayal of life.
How can people not see the writing on the wall? Did they not listen to me years ago? Did they simply forget? Did no one enjoy my stories?
He thought of his power, and his ability to navigate through an ever changing reality. Alone, He could accomplish great things, But that's always where it ended. Just him helping one person treat a symptom. Never getting to the root of the problem. If he struck out on his own, He wouldn't last long. There was too much at stake, too much to lose. And too many people who would get. . . Uncomfortable.
But he wasn't alone anymore, Not everyone had his gift for understanding for a bigger picture.and between his own madness there was no one would ever understand things in the way he had come to.
*He shed a sorrowful tear.*
One last Huzzah before the end.
Where had it come from? Did someone Plant it here?
He thought of the ceremony days before where he had finally managed to marry Valtae. And the events that had led up to it.
He had a place to be alone. A place to build his own world for a time, Even if there was not much time left in his mind.
He somberly smiled, Humming a bittersweet tune as he paced the roots of the grand tree, Forgotten to time.
He arrived at the back, Taking out a pipe and lighting it with his focus before quickly bringing the bellowing piece up to his mouth, Finding the halfling's leaf calming in these troubled times.
He paced around trying to figure out what had bothered him months ago so much
Vyrism had changed, Friends had turned... No one had made any notices. No one had warned other people. Vyre attacks had flourished and the only outlet he had been offered was on the side of the bloodline he had once been apart of. The youthful lie behind his body was betrayed by his ageless eyes. He was a mage. One who was not exactly beholden to a god. A peculiar situation where without the right context his actions wouldn't be vindicated and he would be on a straight path to death from a mob and a curse from a god.
"The path of red." *He'd say mid exhale, Coughing.*
Don't look for fights, Protect your home and your passion.
Do not needlessly spill the blood of your enemies.
Wise words from a fallen god.
Not ones he could actively worship, but something that he had forgotten in his mad stupor not so long ago.
I don't... hate the vyres.. I actually enjoyed my time as one years ago. But it is and will continue to be a betrayal of life.
How can people not see the writing on the wall? Did they not listen to me years ago? Did they simply forget? Did no one enjoy my stories?
He thought of his power, and his ability to navigate through an ever changing reality. Alone, He could accomplish great things, But that's always where it ended. Just him helping one person treat a symptom. Never getting to the root of the problem. If he struck out on his own, He wouldn't last long. There was too much at stake, too much to lose. And too many people who would get. . . Uncomfortable.
But he wasn't alone anymore, Not everyone had his gift for understanding for a bigger picture.and between his own madness there was no one would ever understand things in the way he had come to.
*He shed a sorrowful tear.*
One last Huzzah before the end.
Last edited: