Ash 22nd, 4610
Oliver stared over the horizon line, looking into the distance, wondering if they would ever reach the land in a day or two. However, sea-travel across the Courlan Sea was deemed dangerous, specifically when it came to the creatures that inhabited the oceans as well as it being closer to the heart of the abyss. The lingering of Verevend’s dark clutches still left an eerie sight for Oliver, wondering if such legends were true, perhaps they were just bedtime stories made to scare children.
The Griscian male had left all he had known behind, from the life of luxury he once came from to the voyages of sea, eating like common folk. The experience humbled him, for he did have to learn how to survive amongst these conditions. Instead of acting like a ponce, he simply embraced the life of a commoner and worked within the facets of their life. As much as the pillars told him never to accept mediocrity and simply aim for excellence, perhaps the strive for such a goal came with the simple acknowledgement of knowing the common ground.
Being down to earth wasn’t something within a Griscian’s common book of morals, but it appeared that things like this made Oliver feel better.
Perhaps he was where he belonged, for he had never truly fitted into Griscian society no matter how hard he tried. He was never going to be good enough. It took one frivolous argument with his father to realise that he was just keeping a sinking ship sailing, despite his efforts to become properly introduced to Griscian society.
He married and tried to have children, but all it left him with was tragedy.
Heartbreak.
He was so beaten down, that he eventually let go of everything could possibly hold, until he dropped the last weight; leaving his father and mother behind to try and continue their legacy of a crumbling family, consumed by perfection, hate and the strive for excellence.
Excellence had its place, but not amongst House Carnahan.
Words like bullets, Oliver simply left it in their hands. Yet those thoughts lingered in the back of Oliver’s mind. He wondered if he would regret the hateful words spoken in such rage and terror or will he learn to move on and embrace the future, knowing that he is free from a society of judgement, disdain and full of people with a closed-minded outlook on life.
Oliver took a glance at a woman who sat at a table outside, staring at the sea, making notes about various things. She was minding her own business as usual as she was looking through various articles, findings and other archaeological endeavors rumored to be on Natanis’ border. The Chronicle study of the first expedition ever to set their foot onto Icheron many years ago, documenting their lands, their territories. However, it appears to be another puzzle piece for the female to answer, she eyed towards a male who appeared to have slung his bag down onto the table in a disorderly and uncouth fashion.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you…”
“I thought they’d teach Griscian men manners in the first place.” She teased as she was startled at first, then continued to read “You must be new to the crew, haven't seen your face before.”
Her accent was somewhat common, yet strange sounding. He had not heard such a dialect in Grisic.
“You assume I’m from the Grisic Empire?”
“Well, yeah, by your clothes, fashion, straight hair, handsome and yet still a fool… I know men like you, believe me.” She paused for a moment as she continued on with her activities.
The man snickered at the insult “How do you know, you barely know me…” The studious woman would pour a glass of brandy for herself, before putting the decanter down on the table; she would stare at the strange man, smiling “I just know…”
“I think you’re judging and I don’t like the sound of that…”
“Am I?”
She would gaze at the horizon before taking a glance back at Oliver “What’s a Griscian man doing aboard with a bunch of common folk such as ourselves, I thought you hated folk like us.”
The conversation would get intense as she appeared to have twinged a nerve; he glared at her slightly, before shaking his head “No, but with an attitude like that, I wouldn’t be wanting to mess with the wrong man…” He said, flicking out the inventory that he carried upon him; his rifle, followed by a set of climbing equipment as well as different cartridges for ammunition.
The female looked wide-eyed at the tools he had in his establishment, before she stuttered for a moment “Well, I assume you don’t need all this for archaeology, we’re not entering a war zone are we? Not to mention the excessive extremities one man goes through.” She stuttered nervously.
The Griscian male smirked at the woman as she appeared to be quite intimidated by his weaponry and tools, so much that she had forgotten what to say. “Well, I wouldn’t count on the many pirate raids that happen around these oceans. You never know, best to be prepared for anything, heard of the story of the Ant and the Grakain?” He asked her as Oliver had clearly shown her the pathway of teaching her a lesson.
“Well, vaguely… Enlighten me.”
“Oh now you wanna listen, I thought I was a fool.”
“Let me be the judge of that, Mr Philosopher Pimbridge.” The female clapped back with a challenging smirk on her face.
Oliver made eye contact with her, before snickering “Well, it’s a simple moral of the story really, Grakain ended up going cold because she was lazy, never prepared herself any food for the winter. Meanwhile, the Ant worked through summer to store enough seeds for the winter. By the time, Spring came… The Grakain died and well, the ants swarmed her carrion stricken flesh and ate her.” He shrugged.
“Never knew children's stories could be so powerful.”
“Why do you think our parents spend our time putting us to bed, reading those stories. It’s to see if we’ll get the message and understand it.” Oliver paused, taking a glance back at the woman “Most of us are indeed idiots.”
“You assume most of us had parents…” The woman appeared to be flustered for a moment as she sighed.
“Perhaps a change in subject?” Oliver offered.
She smiled for a moment, giving that Oliver’s considerate nature was quite an appeal to her, for intense subjects usually came with darker stories. It was evident she didn’t want to reveal too much about that as she silently nodded.
“Actually, I need to go. I’ll probably see you around.” She nodded to Oliver, smiling back at him as she turned around to leave.
“Sorry, before you go, I didn’t catch your name.”
She would turn around again, stopping again “I’m Giselle, but call me Elle.”
“I’m Oliver, but you can call me Oli for short…”
“I like that name… Perhaps we should convene some other time…”
Oliver smiled, blinking twice as he appeared to be flustered by her approval for advance that he spoke directly, yet nervously “S-sure…”
“Right then… I best be off…”
With one final glance, she proceeded to the cabins of the boat, leaving Oliver to contend with his thoughts once more. Later that night, Oliver was enjoying drinks with the rowdy crew that Oliver had spotted someone familiar. His eyes appear to beam towards him with such hatred as he took a step outwards to the ship and followed him alone. He smiled rather roguishly, as he stalked the familiar man who he had seen for which he grabbed the man by the neck and pinned him against the wall.
“Oh… Err.. H-Hi Oliver… Nice to see you again, did you-”
“You tried to sell us out didn’t you, Bernie…”
“What do you mean!” The man was shuddering in fear as Oliver’s grip intensified. “Oh I didn’t mean to, they were after what you guys are after… Treasure, glory and the road to building the road of trade… Y’know” He laughed nervously.
Oliver laughed with him as he put his hand on his shoulder “Aha… Of course, you were helping weren’t you Bernie… Perhaps you deserve a little reward ehh?” The Griscian man wrapped his arm around Bernie as he guided him to an area where he was not seen by the patrons of the ship.
“You know Bernie, you’re such a great help… You know that.”
“Hehe… Am I?”
“No, I was being sarcastic…” Oliver’s face dropped as he chose to sling Bernie off the edge of the ship where he would listen to him scream and cry for help.
“HELP!”
Oliver continued to walk onwards to the cabins, knowing that justice didn’t exactly prove to be the best option for him, atleast during the long voyage they had to endure to get to Natanis.
Hopefully, some good would come from this.
Oliver stared over the horizon line, looking into the distance, wondering if they would ever reach the land in a day or two. However, sea-travel across the Courlan Sea was deemed dangerous, specifically when it came to the creatures that inhabited the oceans as well as it being closer to the heart of the abyss. The lingering of Verevend’s dark clutches still left an eerie sight for Oliver, wondering if such legends were true, perhaps they were just bedtime stories made to scare children.
The Griscian male had left all he had known behind, from the life of luxury he once came from to the voyages of sea, eating like common folk. The experience humbled him, for he did have to learn how to survive amongst these conditions. Instead of acting like a ponce, he simply embraced the life of a commoner and worked within the facets of their life. As much as the pillars told him never to accept mediocrity and simply aim for excellence, perhaps the strive for such a goal came with the simple acknowledgement of knowing the common ground.
Being down to earth wasn’t something within a Griscian’s common book of morals, but it appeared that things like this made Oliver feel better.
Perhaps he was where he belonged, for he had never truly fitted into Griscian society no matter how hard he tried. He was never going to be good enough. It took one frivolous argument with his father to realise that he was just keeping a sinking ship sailing, despite his efforts to become properly introduced to Griscian society.
He married and tried to have children, but all it left him with was tragedy.
Heartbreak.
He was so beaten down, that he eventually let go of everything could possibly hold, until he dropped the last weight; leaving his father and mother behind to try and continue their legacy of a crumbling family, consumed by perfection, hate and the strive for excellence.
Excellence had its place, but not amongst House Carnahan.
Words like bullets, Oliver simply left it in their hands. Yet those thoughts lingered in the back of Oliver’s mind. He wondered if he would regret the hateful words spoken in such rage and terror or will he learn to move on and embrace the future, knowing that he is free from a society of judgement, disdain and full of people with a closed-minded outlook on life.
Oliver took a glance at a woman who sat at a table outside, staring at the sea, making notes about various things. She was minding her own business as usual as she was looking through various articles, findings and other archaeological endeavors rumored to be on Natanis’ border. The Chronicle study of the first expedition ever to set their foot onto Icheron many years ago, documenting their lands, their territories. However, it appears to be another puzzle piece for the female to answer, she eyed towards a male who appeared to have slung his bag down onto the table in a disorderly and uncouth fashion.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you…”
“I thought they’d teach Griscian men manners in the first place.” She teased as she was startled at first, then continued to read “You must be new to the crew, haven't seen your face before.”
Her accent was somewhat common, yet strange sounding. He had not heard such a dialect in Grisic.
“You assume I’m from the Grisic Empire?”
“Well, yeah, by your clothes, fashion, straight hair, handsome and yet still a fool… I know men like you, believe me.” She paused for a moment as she continued on with her activities.
The man snickered at the insult “How do you know, you barely know me…” The studious woman would pour a glass of brandy for herself, before putting the decanter down on the table; she would stare at the strange man, smiling “I just know…”
“I think you’re judging and I don’t like the sound of that…”
“Am I?”
She would gaze at the horizon before taking a glance back at Oliver “What’s a Griscian man doing aboard with a bunch of common folk such as ourselves, I thought you hated folk like us.”
The conversation would get intense as she appeared to have twinged a nerve; he glared at her slightly, before shaking his head “No, but with an attitude like that, I wouldn’t be wanting to mess with the wrong man…” He said, flicking out the inventory that he carried upon him; his rifle, followed by a set of climbing equipment as well as different cartridges for ammunition.
The female looked wide-eyed at the tools he had in his establishment, before she stuttered for a moment “Well, I assume you don’t need all this for archaeology, we’re not entering a war zone are we? Not to mention the excessive extremities one man goes through.” She stuttered nervously.
The Griscian male smirked at the woman as she appeared to be quite intimidated by his weaponry and tools, so much that she had forgotten what to say. “Well, I wouldn’t count on the many pirate raids that happen around these oceans. You never know, best to be prepared for anything, heard of the story of the Ant and the Grakain?” He asked her as Oliver had clearly shown her the pathway of teaching her a lesson.
“Well, vaguely… Enlighten me.”
“Oh now you wanna listen, I thought I was a fool.”
“Let me be the judge of that, Mr Philosopher Pimbridge.” The female clapped back with a challenging smirk on her face.
Oliver made eye contact with her, before snickering “Well, it’s a simple moral of the story really, Grakain ended up going cold because she was lazy, never prepared herself any food for the winter. Meanwhile, the Ant worked through summer to store enough seeds for the winter. By the time, Spring came… The Grakain died and well, the ants swarmed her carrion stricken flesh and ate her.” He shrugged.
“Never knew children's stories could be so powerful.”
“Why do you think our parents spend our time putting us to bed, reading those stories. It’s to see if we’ll get the message and understand it.” Oliver paused, taking a glance back at the woman “Most of us are indeed idiots.”
“You assume most of us had parents…” The woman appeared to be flustered for a moment as she sighed.
“Perhaps a change in subject?” Oliver offered.
She smiled for a moment, giving that Oliver’s considerate nature was quite an appeal to her, for intense subjects usually came with darker stories. It was evident she didn’t want to reveal too much about that as she silently nodded.
“Actually, I need to go. I’ll probably see you around.” She nodded to Oliver, smiling back at him as she turned around to leave.
“Sorry, before you go, I didn’t catch your name.”
She would turn around again, stopping again “I’m Giselle, but call me Elle.”
“I’m Oliver, but you can call me Oli for short…”
“I like that name… Perhaps we should convene some other time…”
Oliver smiled, blinking twice as he appeared to be flustered by her approval for advance that he spoke directly, yet nervously “S-sure…”
“Right then… I best be off…”
With one final glance, she proceeded to the cabins of the boat, leaving Oliver to contend with his thoughts once more. Later that night, Oliver was enjoying drinks with the rowdy crew that Oliver had spotted someone familiar. His eyes appear to beam towards him with such hatred as he took a step outwards to the ship and followed him alone. He smiled rather roguishly, as he stalked the familiar man who he had seen for which he grabbed the man by the neck and pinned him against the wall.
“Oh… Err.. H-Hi Oliver… Nice to see you again, did you-”
“You tried to sell us out didn’t you, Bernie…”
“What do you mean!” The man was shuddering in fear as Oliver’s grip intensified. “Oh I didn’t mean to, they were after what you guys are after… Treasure, glory and the road to building the road of trade… Y’know” He laughed nervously.
Oliver laughed with him as he put his hand on his shoulder “Aha… Of course, you were helping weren’t you Bernie… Perhaps you deserve a little reward ehh?” The Griscian man wrapped his arm around Bernie as he guided him to an area where he was not seen by the patrons of the ship.
“You know Bernie, you’re such a great help… You know that.”
“Hehe… Am I?”
“No, I was being sarcastic…” Oliver’s face dropped as he chose to sling Bernie off the edge of the ship where he would listen to him scream and cry for help.
“HELP!”
Oliver continued to walk onwards to the cabins, knowing that justice didn’t exactly prove to be the best option for him, atleast during the long voyage they had to endure to get to Natanis.
Hopefully, some good would come from this.
