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+--- Thread: The Mercenaries spear. (/showthread.php?tid=5415)
The Mercenaries spear. - Emreg Belthen - 11-09-2013
((The back story of Emreg Bellthen))
A low breeze whispered through the streets of Ul'dah, barely disturbing the dust at the feet of men and women peddling their wares on the bustling street known as the Sapphire Avenue Exchange. That same breeze drifted around Emreg like a soft embrace, the hair sticking out from his straw hat fluttering in the wake of the warm breeze,Â
Emreg Bellthen was a handsome enough looking lad. He was taller than most Hyur Midlanders, even rivaling the height of some Highlander females. His arms were that of a blacksmith, his skin copper from the Thanalan sun, long brown hair sat atop his head, not quite reaching his golden eyes.
The tall lad strolled down the Exchange with a certain air of confidence about him, his black hafted spear slung across his back, "That was some bloody breeze." Emreg cursed, sarcasm thick in his tone, "A man could be doing with a damn good bit of cold air these days, not that bloody tease." he said while continuing down the street. He was heading North out of Sapphire Avenue, only one destination on his mind as he moved into the Steps of Nald.
He flicked his golden gaze through a passing group of Miqo'te women, making certain to flash them a smile, not his best smile mind you, though still a very comely one at that. The women returned the smile with giggles and winks, though Emreg had no time to dandle one or two of them on his knee just yet. He had an interview to get to, an interview that just might be his ticket out of the rut he was in and onto bigger and better things.
"Come one and come all who can handle a sword!" the notice on the board had said, "Riches and glory await those who come!" followed by a rather crude description of the recruiter for this mercenary company.
How could a man ignore those sorts of promises? Even although Emreg had never used a sword before, he was pretty handy with a quarterstaff and spears couldn't be much different from a staff, could they? It was just a piece of steel on the end of the staff, right?
Pushing away idle thoughts, Emreg strode into the common room of the Quicksand tavern, his gaze flicking through the few patrons of the morning eagerly, he couldn't contain his excitement. His gaze found a Highlander man sitting by the counter, back turned away from him with the biggest axe that Emreg had ever seen slung across his back.
With a grin Em decided to stroll over, Em did sound like such a more proper name to use with a man like this, he must be quite the hardy bastard to be carrying a weapon like that. Em's thoughts on the man seemed to be correct as when he reached him, managing to get a much better look at his face he was confronted with scar after scar carved into the Highlander's face and neck. His left eye was apparently missing as he wore a black eye patch encrusted with rubies over the socket,
I'm here about the job opportunity." Em said, trying not to see too keen or interested, "I recognize you from the notice, Sir."
The Highlander grunted as his gaze run over him, seeming to drink in his very essence, "Leave the hat outside, it looks ridiculous." he snarled, "Oh and you better be ready to act like a damn mercenary as well, else you will be our new training dummy."
Emreg's mouth went dry, unable to find anymore words to reply. He gave a simple nod and flicked his hat from his head.Â