Enter the Barnell Clan
One of those members of the family had in fact turned to his side, with a groggy look outside the window his bed rested close to. It would be almost time for everyone to get up, a cycle that maintained it's consistency regularly on most good days. Since it had been the first day of the new year however, Patrick Barnell had decided that if he found himself able to; he'd put in the effort to rise just a little earlier for the occasion. Although he considered it asking too much of himself now, as the comfort of his bed and pillow were almost too hard to leave. Yet the Atinorin persevered well enough, and slowly budged to a steady rise at the edge of his bed.
Grogginess clung to his eyesight as the remaining moonlight filtered through his window, only illuminating the part of his room where his desk remained stationed. It was enough to help him see when he stood up to stretch, before the bartender bent down to pick up the pair of brown trousers on the floor. Already he could feel the chill in his air deliver shivers in his limbs, the surface of his skin littered with a classic case of goosebumps as he quickly slid them on. Next came the cottony white shirt he'd worn yesterday, a fabric that was easy to roll down his torso; after he slipped an arm through each of the short sleeves.
As Patrick moved towards his desk he stepped as lightly as he could, hopeful that he wouldn't disturb his fellow bedroom partner from sleep. But of course a look across the other end of the room, and he could see that the oldest of three siblings began to turn. Which meant Dominik would be awake soon also, if he wasn't coming around already to notice the second's early rise. Movement died to a still however which likely meant he remained asleep, and with a catered amount of investment in remaining quiet; Patrick moved to quietly pick up the chair and ease it back down just a few inches away.
Now that he'd be able to sit without so much of a ruckus, Patrick looked over at the oil lamp hung on the wall near their door; it's soft amber glow just barely alight. He'd need better illumination if he wanted to see, so the bartender eased open one of his desk drawers; and pulled out a fresh candlestick from within. He'd be able to light it using the lamp, though he noted the challenge found in the act. Given he wasn't going to be able to keep quiet for too long, plus the fact everyone else was about to wake, Patrick decided subtlety wasn't going to be absolutely necessary at this point of the morning.
Thus he mosied over towards the lamp with candle in hand, with the end brought up so that the wick met the tiny flame within. He noted that the oil in the lantern's basin looked low, which meant either he or his brother would have to refill it later. As he held the candle at it's angle, Patrick heard his brother shift again but ignored it this time. "What're you doin up?" The older sibling groaned quietly while Patrick turned slowly, the wick of his candle now alight with a small flame. Dominik looked bundled up in his own blankets as if they were his manmade cocoon, his drowsy eyes squinted now that Patrick had a light in his midst.
"Just wanted an early start is all." Pat whispered to his older brother as he walked lightly back towards the desk, where he then placed the candle in the empty holder to his right. Now that he had a source of light Patrick then proceeded to slip the top desk drawer open, this time fishing the new leather bonded journal his mother had given him. Right as he opened the book the smell of boiled leather and parchment filled his nostrils, greeting him as he looked towards the wooden ink pen he always wrote with.
"Really?" Dominik uttered, quietly but also in ridicule, now that he saw what his younger brother was up to. Patrick's only response to him was to look and then shrug, with a smile to add once he heard his brother sigh and bury his face. Now that the journal had been opened, and his pen dipped in the inkwell situated next to his candle; Patrick stared at the first page of his empty book. He knew right away he wanted to label it with the digits one hundred and twenty, along with "Age of Steel" beneath them, as it would be his own record keeper for the year, so he began with doing that as he considered what to write on the next page.
What his first actual entry into the book would probably be.
Glade 1st, 120th AoS
Morning had arrived yet the sun wasn't ready to greet the world, as the sky above the distant mountains still appeared a deep and darkened blue outside the window. While it was still dark out the early risers would be on the verge of getting up soon, the farmers would be getting ready to till their lands while the fishers would be preparing for today's hauls from the river. It just so happened that another, an entire family in fact, made it an important habit to be up almost just as early also.
One of those members of the family had in fact turned to his side, with a groggy look outside the window his bed rested close to. It would be almost time for everyone to get up, a cycle that maintained it's consistency regularly on most good days. Since it had been the first day of the new year however, Patrick Barnell had decided that if he found himself able to; he'd put in the effort to rise just a little earlier for the occasion. Although he considered it asking too much of himself now, as the comfort of his bed and pillow were almost too hard to leave. Yet the Atinorin persevered well enough, and slowly budged to a steady rise at the edge of his bed.
Grogginess clung to his eyesight as the remaining moonlight filtered through his window, only illuminating the part of his room where his desk remained stationed. It was enough to help him see when he stood up to stretch, before the bartender bent down to pick up the pair of brown trousers on the floor. Already he could feel the chill in his air deliver shivers in his limbs, the surface of his skin littered with a classic case of goosebumps as he quickly slid them on. Next came the cottony white shirt he'd worn yesterday, a fabric that was easy to roll down his torso; after he slipped an arm through each of the short sleeves.
As Patrick moved towards his desk he stepped as lightly as he could, hopeful that he wouldn't disturb his fellow bedroom partner from sleep. But of course a look across the other end of the room, and he could see that the oldest of three siblings began to turn. Which meant Dominik would be awake soon also, if he wasn't coming around already to notice the second's early rise. Movement died to a still however which likely meant he remained asleep, and with a catered amount of investment in remaining quiet; Patrick moved to quietly pick up the chair and ease it back down just a few inches away.
Now that he'd be able to sit without so much of a ruckus, Patrick looked over at the oil lamp hung on the wall near their door; it's soft amber glow just barely alight. He'd need better illumination if he wanted to see, so the bartender eased open one of his desk drawers; and pulled out a fresh candlestick from within. He'd be able to light it using the lamp, though he noted the challenge found in the act. Given he wasn't going to be able to keep quiet for too long, plus the fact everyone else was about to wake, Patrick decided subtlety wasn't going to be absolutely necessary at this point of the morning.
Thus he mosied over towards the lamp with candle in hand, with the end brought up so that the wick met the tiny flame within. He noted that the oil in the lantern's basin looked low, which meant either he or his brother would have to refill it later. As he held the candle at it's angle, Patrick heard his brother shift again but ignored it this time. "What're you doin up?" The older sibling groaned quietly while Patrick turned slowly, the wick of his candle now alight with a small flame. Dominik looked bundled up in his own blankets as if they were his manmade cocoon, his drowsy eyes squinted now that Patrick had a light in his midst.
"Just wanted an early start is all." Pat whispered to his older brother as he walked lightly back towards the desk, where he then placed the candle in the empty holder to his right. Now that he had a source of light Patrick then proceeded to slip the top desk drawer open, this time fishing the new leather bonded journal his mother had given him. Right as he opened the book the smell of boiled leather and parchment filled his nostrils, greeting him as he looked towards the wooden ink pen he always wrote with.
"Really?" Dominik uttered, quietly but also in ridicule, now that he saw what his younger brother was up to. Patrick's only response to him was to look and then shrug, with a smile to add once he heard his brother sigh and bury his face. Now that the journal had been opened, and his pen dipped in the inkwell situated next to his candle; Patrick stared at the first page of his empty book. He knew right away he wanted to label it with the digits one hundred and twenty, along with "Age of Steel" beneath them, as it would be his own record keeper for the year, so he began with doing that as he considered what to write on the next page.
What his first actual entry into the book would probably be.
"Today marks the first of many new days to come."