Timestamp: 76th of Winter, 513 AV
The dirge-like chords echoed off of the high walls and vaulted ceiling of the large, empty hall. Night had stolen the light that made the colorful glass windows and ceiling pop with vibrancy, and now only the glow of a lonely lantern offered illumination, barely enough to see past the closest columns. Kovac sat on the cold floor, katinu wrapped around him, leaning against one of the columns. It was empty, being several days before set up of the next market day.
The lute languished in his lap, fingers plucking at the strings only occasionally, melancholic tones in short riffs, as if the musician producing the sounds had little heart to make the instrument sing. Of more attention seemd to be the bottle of wine next to the half-bred Avora. It had been a signature of sorts, Kovac and his wine, but considerably less so until recently. Once upon a time, he drank much, played often, drowning out the pain of betrayed love. He had been bitter and cynical, a sardonic ass bent on selfish indulgence. But over the past few years, friends, and lovers, had helped him along. Time spent away at Thunder Bay after the Great Storm had given him time to think. Then came Lavira. Lavira had delivered him, it seemed, from himself, as he had helped deliver her from the demons of her tragic accident.
But now she was gone, ten days now. So many gone. Shayth, Aidara, Sairque, Chemar and now Lavira. Taken by this cursed land. Yes, he still had friends. Alori, perhaps his closest now, and Sira, the bold Kelvic. Euthisa was still about, but life rarely brought their paths together, and Kovac had hurt her deeply when he chose Lavira. So, more than three years after Kalle had betrayed him, Kovac was once again sinking into darkness.
Gripping the bottle by the neck, Kovac tilted the opening to his mouth, letting another stringent swallow drain down his throat. He scowled into the dark shadows of the great hall. Cursing under his breath. Anger helped to stave off the desperate sorrow.
LedgerFine wine - 10 pinions
The dirge-like chords echoed off of the high walls and vaulted ceiling of the large, empty hall. Night had stolen the light that made the colorful glass windows and ceiling pop with vibrancy, and now only the glow of a lonely lantern offered illumination, barely enough to see past the closest columns. Kovac sat on the cold floor, katinu wrapped around him, leaning against one of the columns. It was empty, being several days before set up of the next market day.
The lute languished in his lap, fingers plucking at the strings only occasionally, melancholic tones in short riffs, as if the musician producing the sounds had little heart to make the instrument sing. Of more attention seemd to be the bottle of wine next to the half-bred Avora. It had been a signature of sorts, Kovac and his wine, but considerably less so until recently. Once upon a time, he drank much, played often, drowning out the pain of betrayed love. He had been bitter and cynical, a sardonic ass bent on selfish indulgence. But over the past few years, friends, and lovers, had helped him along. Time spent away at Thunder Bay after the Great Storm had given him time to think. Then came Lavira. Lavira had delivered him, it seemed, from himself, as he had helped deliver her from the demons of her tragic accident.
But now she was gone, ten days now. So many gone. Shayth, Aidara, Sairque, Chemar and now Lavira. Taken by this cursed land. Yes, he still had friends. Alori, perhaps his closest now, and Sira, the bold Kelvic. Euthisa was still about, but life rarely brought their paths together, and Kovac had hurt her deeply when he chose Lavira. So, more than three years after Kalle had betrayed him, Kovac was once again sinking into darkness.
Gripping the bottle by the neck, Kovac tilted the opening to his mouth, letting another stringent swallow drain down his throat. He scowled into the dark shadows of the great hall. Cursing under his breath. Anger helped to stave off the desperate sorrow.
LedgerFine wine - 10 pinions