|It was about midday when Ignatius returned to Piros. He was travel-worn, dusty and his torn tunic was covered in blood. Of course, with red being its natural color, not many would notice the dried red stains. Though he had a few minor injuries, none of the blood was his. He walked tall and strong, not wincing at all even as his bruised ribs creaked or muscles ached. It was a pain he was used to and knew a tankard or two of rum would dull his nerves to an easy point that it wouldn't bother him in the slightest. Ignatius just needed to make it to an establishment before the fatigue took him under. |
It always hurt Ignatius whenever he returned home to Piros. Seeing the poor citizens wandering the dirt streets, trying to hawk their pitiful goods or those that have nothing and beg for something. It brought up painful memories of his time before becoming a Clansman. It hurt him more when he had little to nothing to give to the beggars. Of course he always ended up giving every last gem to those that had little children with him. Cheap shots for sure but it was a wise tactical decision. So by the time Iggy reached the outwardly ruined tavern, the only thing lining his pockets was lint.
The light pouring in through the large hole in the roof illuminated most of the room. A rickety bar stood off to the left, tended by a large, muscle-bound man who towered over Ignatius. Though the man was something of a pacifist, so used his size to keep things in his establishment in order. It wasn't much of place though, hardly filled with anyone at any hour of the day and wasn't stocked too great either. Actually, it was kind of pathetic but for Piros, it was alright. The man behind the counter stared hard at Ignatius' appearance, a disapproving expression on his face, before returning to his task of wiping down his somewhat clean bar for what Iggy assumed was the umpteenth time. With a reserved sigh, the bloodied Clansman approached the bar and took a seat on one of the stools. He was surprised it didn't collapse on him.
"So tell me Eldin, how's things?" Ignatius said, ignoring the elephant in the room.
"Bad, it is to be spected, of course." Eldin drawled in a bored tone.
"Care to elaborate?"
"Wife's dead, passed on nigh a few days ago. The sickness got her. There was a riot too, the people gettin' riled about monster sightings. Strains are stoned for being different. It is all bad, Ignatius." The man shook his head and disbelief before moved to the back room.
Ignatius was left alone then, to wait for something or other to happen. He figured the big fella went back to mourn in silence. It was sad that the man's wife had died. Diera was a good woman, not too bad on the eyes if one could look past the slight emaciated appearance. Inevitably, Iggy also shook his head in belief and placed his elbows onto the counter to rest his head in his hands. Slowly but surely, fatigue was catching up to him and all he wanted was a warm meal and something cold to wash it down before he found someplace to crash for a few days.
LAIKA OF GS!