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Re: A Helping Hand

Posted: Thu Aug 14, 2025 10:07 pm
by Thimryl
A Helping Hand
25th of Frost, 124th Year, A.o.S.

Image

Thimryl's eyes softened when Filaurel explained his condition, it would explain why it seemed he floated across the ground. The soldier, however, held respect for the tailor for finding the means to overcome the disadvantage dealt to him. Not wanting to pity the elf, he smiled, even though the other couldnt see it. "Im certain were it not for your affliction, you would have been my instructor or comrade in the military. You seem to have the makings of a great warrior. My mother had an eye for telling such things, and I want to believe I've inherited that from her, knowing how to judge one's character." he mused, continuing to carry the man.

The raven spirit returned, though it had nothing to show for its efforts. Regardless, Thimryl took a moment to make good on his promise, offering the corvian spirit some aether for its efforts, which brought a delightful sqawk from the spirit, well, at least he believed it was happy. It was kind of hard to tell sometimes, as it was an ornery spirit sometimes. When he spoke of his rune, he began to muse which one it was. He knew a little about other rune magics, as being a mage himself, how could he not? There were only two that came to mind, Elementalism or Kinetics. He wasnt sure which one, but he felt it wasnt his place to pry; instead, he chose to go a more familiar conversation topic.

"How long have you been a tailor? Is that something you have always wanted to do? Besides being a soldier, of course?" he asked him, briefly taking his eyes off the streets before them. He was trying to make Filaurel think of anything other than his current situation, hoping it would cheer him up. "Have you had any famous clients? I'm sure a man of your talents has had interesting interactions with nobility."



"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

Re: A Helping Hand

Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2025 9:52 pm
by Filaurel

Filaurel collapsed against the other man's shoulders as he hefted him. The man was too proud to sob with relief, even in a moment of such extremity, but it was a narrow thing. His mind whirled, giving him a strange illusion of clarity in the moment as his senses tried desperately to find some escape from his own body.

"I was... an indifferent soldier." Filaurel said, his voice quiet, "I dreamed of glory, but I had neither the will nor the talent to seize it. But I found peace in it, all the same. To have comrades--real comrades, men to whom you can entrust your life--it was a fine thing. I miss them dearly."

The elf managed to master his voice well enough, but he could not restrain his traitorous muscles, which let a single tear build up against the side of his nose and roll gently down his face. Thankfully, positioned as he was behind the soldier, in the darkness, Filaurel was certain the other man could not see.

"I always had an interest in it. I mended the clothes for the people of my barracks, and I was proud of my poor skills with a needle, then. But necessity is the mother of reinvention, they say. Once I could no longer be a soldier, I had to take up something else. Thankfully, my aunt was able to find me an apprenticeship in Silfanore. I am good at it, but I worked as hard as my body would allow. I had to, for I had no other paths to walk."

The tailor's response was interrupted by a fit of coughing, and he trailed off into silence, letting the little noises of the night take over.

"I have been blessed to work for many great clients, even the royal family themselves." Filaurel responded, and the pride in his voice momentarily washed away the despair pervading his being, "But many in the city can say the same. The mighty have many tailors, for they can afford to browse. I have yet to complete a real masterwork..."



Re: A Helping Hand

Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2025 2:22 am
by Thimryl
A Helping Hand
25th of Frost, 124th Year, A.o.S.

Image

He smiled, even though Filaurel couldnt see it. He couldnt help but feel a similar camaraderie to the tailor. Though they served in two different eras, they were definitely kindred spirits. He listened as Filaurel spoke of his interest in tailoring, and it reminded him of his interest in singing, in the art of song. That was the way of the elves, as much of an artist as we are warriors, too. "I admit, if I hadn't become a soldier, I would have pursued a career in singing. I usually take on some of the amateur nights here in the capital." he began.

"The most recent one I did, I got to meet her royal highness, Princess Akantha. She gave me some encouragement to keep singing and to perfect my technique." he added, as he too has met some important folks. "You know, and I feel a bit embarrassed for saying this aloud, but one day I aspire to sing for His Royal Majesty. If only once, it would mean the world to me to do so. Just as much as you seek to create your masterpiece, Sir Filaurel" his encouraging words flowed on the winds as they neared the area in which the tailor stayed.

He had seen it before while on patrol and was pretty familiar with the beat by this point, so he didn't need directions. He would gently set the man down on a bench outside his shop and wait for the man to tell him he was ready to go inside or if he needed assistance. "Dont be afraid to call for me if you find yourself in this peril again alone. I'd hate for you to have to suffer alone like that."



"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

Re: A Helping Hand

Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2025 9:35 pm
by Filaurel

"Thank you." Filaurel said, and he didn't even sound all that upset about it, "You do me a great kindness."

As the two men had traveled, Filaurel had felt an easing in his skull. His body ached from the fall, and his spirit ached from something else--some depletion of aether, or perhaps a sprain in the connective tissues which allowed him to feel and manipulate it--but both of those aches had begun to grow dull. The tailor felt certain that, given a few more minutes, he would recover the strength to move under his own power.

Well, under a power which was his own for now. To some degree.

Although he did not ask Thimryl to carry him inside, he didn't want the man to go quite yet. In response to the soldier's inquisitive gaze, Filaurel gathered himself and turned to look him in the eyes. "I have no doubt you can achieve this- I have seen that the Princess is quick to favor those who appreciate beauty. Furthermore, she has a great love of variety. Perhaps that is the key, for you; I think she would be keen to hear something truly novel."

Filaurel was quiet for a moment, coughing under his breath as he forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly. It was a technique first taught to him by the physicians who had attended on him after the first spell of paralysis. Though they could not cure him, they had many arts for easing pain, and for making the body return to its natural rhythms.

"Again, I offer my thanks. You must let me make you something, in return. I could not bear to think that I had failed to repay kindness in kind."