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02/21/12(Tue)15:07 No.18042839Before the man retired, he told his friends that they had to keep the dream alive. A guild, as one would call it, to teach young men with heads full of dreams and hearts filled with anger to swing a sword and make a plan, so that no more frightened young men would find themselves in the lightless tunnels below the world, alone and afraid, hunted by great beasts.
The guild prospered and its coffers filled with the treasures of those monsters slain, but eventually, they questioned why a weary old man with more children then he knew what to do with was telling them how they did things. They knew not what he had done. They knew not what he had bled for.
Cast out, he could find no work to sustain himself. His children abandoned him, his wife starved, and eventually, he found his way to the sewers to die.
As his tale ends, Jimmy vomits over himself, and drops the still full glass. He coughs, and doesn't stop. As the Old Man and Carlotta walk over, concern on their faces, he continues coughing and spluttering, blood pouring from his lips, his eyes popped out with effort.
Eventually, he takes one last, rattling breath, and falls to the ground, his head cracking against the moist stone.
Carlotta buries her face in the Old Mans chest, weeping silently for Old Jimmy.
You walk up to the corpse, and remove something trying to float up through his clothing. It's worn, and scarred, and missing several pieces, but it's bright and blue and blazing. Old Jimmys soul is in your hands. |
