Summer in the Year 511 AV, Day 67 Thumppity thumpitty thud!! Crash clang bang!! "eh ha he haw hic!" sounded of Hakulo's drunken uncle back from a full night's indulgence. He stumbled in through the door and as he was taking his remaining clothing off to rest in his small hovel. Uncle, had tripped over an empty keg falling over and knocking the vase of flowers he kept just as a gift to give to any female Ephyarian that would happen to just need that extra push to join him for the night. "Hey!? Hakulo, will ya help your ole uncle up?..Hakulo?" Hakulo rose from his interrupted slumber sighing in a bit of disgust. Hakulo really did hate this recurring occurrence of seeing his last known family member practically drink himself away to the afterlife. Why did his uncle never attempt to make something of himself other than a mere drunkard parading the streets with another whorish woman each night? Why wasn't he more like his parents that had been geared towards advancing in society? But, Hakulo realized that his uncle was not and would not ever be his parents and he would have to accept his uncle's position in society as his own. If only my parents had introduced me to their social circles before...this. "Oh all right you ole coot." Hakulo stated in the common language and "Drunk bastard." In Arumenic. Hakulo placed his hands under his uncle's four arms and his remaining two upper hands on the wall behind for support to lift the large man. "Huaah! Ther you go uncle. Now, do you need some help getting to your...nope." Uncle, stumble-walked over to where the group of pillows laid on the floor and fell just short four feet passing out cold. "Of course not sleep anywhere you like..." Hakulo said with a hint of sighing while shaking and holding his head. "I haven't have time for this! I've got things to do." Hakulo was the complete opposite of his uncle's character. He would not allow himself through his parents teaching to reach such a low level. He was ingrained with a sense of self improvement, honor, and truth. Yet, this was done without the influence of Hakulo subscribing to a deity. His two parents were of two different gods and made an agreement to let Hakulo choose his own god in time. However, Hakulo had not chosen. He did not see what purpose they really had at this point in his life. All that mattered as he saw it was trying to be a virtuous person in probably the one of the most lustful city in all of Mizahar. Hakulo needed to clear his mind of his disgust with his uncle. So, he went to the wide clearing in the back alley which provided just enough space to safely twirl around his fathers old double end spear. Hakulo would watch his father do the same when he was younger. His father said that the spear would meld with his body and understand how he was feeling. Then draw the impurities out of his body and cleansing the warrior. He would always say that "not only do you need to know the spear but the spear needs to know the wielder. Then the purest form of fighting pleasure can be achieved." Hakulo took the spear in his middle left hand twirling it side to side, over his head, and every two rotations pierce the air in front of him then behind him. |