Sometimes I jot down little notes about some example player characters. The idea is to try to tell a story from a player character's perspective, ie: the character a player creates to play the game... what would the world look like through their eyes. Maybe these provide some insight into the way I view the world. Maybe they describe stuff that will manifest in the game. Maybe some are just an interesting story I have fun writing.
Eventually the plan is that these will become part of the main site with little character bios. In the mean time, I'm considering posting bits and pieces here and there for others to read. You may have already seen the one about Fayd Tallwin buried in some other thread. I may also repost it here for posterity.
Some nights, creativity outstrips coding discipline and these little short stories are what results. Last night was one such night.
So without further ado, I bring you the first installment (roughest of rough drafts) of "The Tales of Shasour Soong", an avian, outcast for losing his ability to fly. I'm not a great writer or anything but maybe you find it interesting.
From The Tales of Shasour Soong
He was a man of few words and his story was too bitter to share,
anyway. Shasour Soong preferred it up here in the rigging, away
from the other crew, wearing his solitude like a warm cloak. On
days like today, where the morning mist hung low and the breeze
was cool, he could almost feel like he was flying again.
He heard motion nearby and below.
Pallon, the only other avian crew member aboard the Dragonfish,
was climbing up behind him. Nine months into this job and
the two were still awkward in the rigging but their movements
were light-footed. It was easy to tell the difference from
the rest of the crew. While the seasoned sailors were able to
deflty climb the ropes and ladders with ease, they also made the
wood and rigging creak heavily under their weight.
"The storms will hold off for another few hours at least", Shasour
offered unasked as his friend perched beside him.
Pallon nodded, "And probably pass to the west if my itch is right."
Shasour agreed. Something was still odd about this weather
but he chose to keep his speculations to himself.
Without another word, he climbed down, leaving Pallon to his
watch. He wished he could just jump and float down lazily on
the breeze but his left wing's ball joint was still healing and there
were still rips and sprains in the right-side flights. His wings
were kept bundled and tied behind him, strapped to his back like
a rolled up sail. Gravity hung around his neck like a stone anchor.
But he was the lucky one. His wounds would heal. Pallon was to
be forever a ground-walker now. Neither would ever be welcomed
home again. That was the way. That was always the way.
In the first few months aboard ship, he and Pallon had nearly killed
themselves a dozen times attempting to step lightly off the rigging
as confident as a bird. The crew had some experience with avian
outcasts and had insisted on safety tethers. It was the only thing
that had saved their lives.
Slowly the lessons sunk in and now they were both constantly aware
of "down". A brief pang of sadness passed through Shasour at the
thought. He missed the naivety of his own past. "Falling" was an
entirely new concept and, in a way, a loss of innocence.
The sun was beginning to cut through the mist as he caught up with
the captain. The man stood rigid behind the helmsman, grogginess
about his eyes, and a steaming mug of tea cupped in his hands. The
ship moved and rocked beneath his worn boots but it was as if
he was a fixed point in space, about which the ship tilted.
"How goes, Mr. Soong?", the captain asked lightly. He never looked at
Shasour directly. The older man's eyes were ever fixed on the
horizon, never stopping in one place for long.
"Hits in a few hours. Likely to pass west", there was an unsaid
"but" and captain Martin picked up on it.
The seasoned captain of the Dragonfish caught Shasour's gaze. It
was friendly and dangerously serious at the same time. The captain
had a way of getting to the point quickly without uttering a word.
Shasour respected that. This man surely had his own stories to
tell, he thought.
Shasour shifted uncomfortably on the heaving deck. He slightly
cowered under the captains hard gaze and relented. "There is
something odd about this weather", Shasour started, "Pallon would
never have smelled it but there is a magic in it..."
The captain didn't even let him finish. The lingering sleep
cleared from his head instantly, as if a fog was lifted. He jumped
to the railing, hanging onto a thick support line overhead.
"Hoy!", he shouted down to the crew, "Eyes about and prepare to
hold fast. Tie down anything ya' care about."
He started to jump down but fluidly spun around again as if
remembering an afterthought, "And wake the big boys and have
them bring their finest cutlery. If Mr. Soong's nose is right, we're
gonna have guests soon."
...