Archmage_Cataris
Settling in Altera
A boy sat alone, nigh one hundred years ago from this day. The building was old, moldy and most importantly dark. He grew up here, he was accustomed to the darkness, the noises he heard. To a boy the noises he heard could be fathomed as that of woman being hurt and tortured, but to the adult mind they would know it was only the screams of false pleasure from the whores in the whorehouse. He would often sit in a corner crying, hoping to see his Mum again, and as always she would come out with a smile and welcome the boy once more with open arms while a different man each hour walked out of the room behind her. He was young and fearful, not of the darkness but of losing his Mother, an innocent mind. The bartender would treat him well, giving him clay to draw with outside the building during the day, leaving many markings on the cobblestone road.
Every now and again one of the men would be friendly enough to give the boy coin, pat him on the head or appreciate his work on the cobblestone road, something the guards never appreciated. He was well fed when his Mother could afford it, when she couldn't the bartender would hand him scraps and leftovers. Each day was the same process, in the early morn' he would drink his frothy brown soup, make his way outside to draw on the ground with the depleting clay. Midday would come and he sat on the porch with the old lady that run the business, petting her cat that so often liked to claw him, he watched the men in good numbers go in and come out with a smile on their face. Afternoon arrived, he would rush inside to find the bartender, tug on his trousers and get his food, another bowl of brown frothy soup. Night time would come, his Mother would visit him for a few minutes, kiss his forehead and tell him tales of great men and mischievous criminals. He would wake up every now and again in the night while sleeping on the floor, the only thing separating him and the hard wood was a thin layer of hay.
The process repeated every day, he didn't mind, it has always been like this and to his childish mind, he thought it would always be like this. He never knew better, he thought he never would, but to the men and women in the whorehouse, they would be surprised where his life took him.
