Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

Lothen - Story Retold

(1/1)

UBERboomer:
Lothen has always been one for  cooking to this day he’s still unsure as to where he picked it up. Ever since he was an adolescence he’s been able to cook things, even the most complicated of meals. Which spices complimented which sauce and which meat went with what marinade, it all came second nature to him.
Looking at his pots and pans he see’s the wears and tears of years of travelling. The dent at the bottom of the pot means it won’t stay on the ground without rocking a little or completely tipping over. They appeared after he first arrived to these lands, still unsure on how exactly they were caused. He follows the scratch from the bottom of the pot to the rim with the tip of his finger being careful not let his skin linger on the boiling hot metal. This one, yeah thats from when he stumbled in that spider cave, his mind wondered to the stalker that pestered them throughout the journey.
“You will feed me” unconsciously raising his hand to the recently treated neck he thinks back to how he helped feed her… it.
Shaking the thoughts from his head he returns his hand to the spoon to give the soup a good stir before lifting the hot liquid to his lips to take a taste. As the bland tasting liquid slips down his throat he inhales deeply to sooth the now burnt tip of his tongue. Cursing to himself he inhales a few times to cool down his mouth, he places the spoon back into the pot and mutters something about same old taste and boring food.

UBERboomer:
Lothen looks down at his plate and examines the meal he has prepared himself. A simple steak complimented with a handful of freshly picked beans. Picking at the beans he scowls tasting the dry texture on his tongue, reminding himself not to prepare the beans in the same way again. Swallowing his beans he pauses a moment eying his rare steak, unfortunately he wasn’t able to find himself the ingredients for a sauce before the darkness crept its way upon the land. He cuts up a small portion of the steak and raises it to his mouth with his fork. He slips it into his mouth and closes his eyes to give his taste buds his full attention. Biting into the morsel of food first he feels the soft texture around his mouth and how easy the steak was the bite into, then the explosion of flavour as he actually bites into the steak.
The aftertaste lingering for minutes after he swallows it down, and the hint of herbs that were added for flavour slowly disappears and flushed down by the strong whisky from his glass.
Finally opening his eyes his surroundings become apparent to him, the bustling sound of the inn bursting through his ears.
Sitting there his eyes are drawn to a woman sitting across the bar to him, her full figure filling her clothes perfectly. Her dress comes short just above her knee and he runs his eyes down her elegant crossed legs. Observing the bulge of her calf where her leg rests against the other, dark thoughts fill his head.

UBERboomer:
Returning through the corridoor you just passed, you heads towards the large doorway thats to the side near the end of the corridoor.
You look up at the large wooden door and admire its craftsmanship, clearly someone has spent some time working on this door and each decorative mark is perfectly inscribed upon the dark wood.
Your hand moves towards the handle, you feel the full weight of the door as you push the handle down. Straining a little bit to push the door open you have to lean into it to get this heavy wooden slab moving. The door does not creak like you would expect it to, and once you get it moving it seems to swing itself open stopping at a perfect ninety degree angle that gives you the full view of the small room.
Infact the room is so small you'd think the door is largely out of proportion, but as you look in you feel the door and corridoor stretch behind you so that its just you and the small room.
The room is a small box, much like a cell a criminal would be held in. It has no decorations and no windows, just a simple brick wall surrounds this cuboid prison. The only light source is that of a small candle on a table in the centre of the room.
As you approach this table you feel the rest of the room sink behind you so that all you can see is the small wooden table infront of you, with the candle light slowly flickering leaving a dull shine over the contents on the table.
As you begin to survey the items on the table each with their own tag which is attatched in someway by a simple cord you come across a bloody dagger, with its tag pierced by the tip of the blade, not attatched like the others.
As you pick up the dagger and bring up the note to see what it reads the light flickers violently.
With a gust of wind that comes from nowhere the light exstinguishes.
Leaving you in complete darkness.

As Lothen opens his eyes once again the waitress asks
"Can I get you another drink?"
He doesn't answer and instead heads to the door pulling his hood down over his face and his cloak tight around him.

Navigation

[0] Message Index