Open - Aftermath

In his other life, he was staunchly against smoking. There was something about wanting to become a nurse and save infants that clashed with the image he had in his head of a cigarette between his lips. It just didn’t make sense. The amount of damage that he would be doing to himself – and other people! – was beyond anything Anthony would be willing to take responsibility for. So, he never picked up anything remotely close to a cigarette, only drank socially, and stayed away from house-parties and nightclubs.

Emil had none of those issues.

The tip of the pipe against his lips felt…right. He inhaled, the curved wooden opening flaring red as tiny embers flickered alive once more. A curling snake of smoke danced away from him, wafting out into the sea to mingle with the circling gulls overhead. Parting the right side of his mouth, he exhaled, letting the rest of the smoke flow free, the dizzying feeling that climbed up the back of his neck making that smile widen and a throaty chuckle bubble forth.

Placing the pipe down, he crossed his arms over his new robe and leaned back in his chair, calm and at ease.

This state of being had been hard to achieve since the war. The flashbacks he had, whether induced by the game or his own mind he couldn’t be certain, but they were hell. The coppery scent of blood was almost a constant in his nose and his shoulder still ached from the arrow that had speared him. Merely thinking about it made him rotate the cuff and massage the flesh there. He had been healed…after the fact.

Pursing his lips, he grabbed his pipe and inhaled once more, the familiar effect loosening his jaw and scattering his thoughts. It was a lonely thing to admit to himself, the fact that here – similar to reality – he was very much alone. He had…acquaintances, sure, but he would bet money that none of them would know him by name. Would any of them – anyone for that matter – even have bothered to pick him up off the ground had he fallen those nights before?

Snorting, he tipped his head to the side, the subtle pop! of his neck allowing a sigh to waft free.

“Will that be all for you, Mr. Trevelyan?” the waitress asked. She was average, brown eyes and hair, fair complexion with a splattering of freckles across nose and cheeks.

Emil, regal as always, smiled and inclined his head. I do so love my sweets. If you wouldn’t mind bringing about a dessert tray, I would be most obliged.

She scampered off to heed his request.

Meanwhile, Emil turned his attention to the ocean that stretched beyond where the eye could see. His thoughts were in a jumble, fragments of what he wanted to do competing with what he needed to do and the smoke did nothing to straighten them. No, it was another distraction, welcomed but distracting nonetheless. He sighed again, feeling the melancholy once more grab hold of him.

After his desert, he most certainly would get off his ass and…and…do something.​

 

Aalam had taken a record of all those that had lost their lives in the war it had been a long and tedious task to ensure that no one was missing but he had gotten it done. The entire record had taken up three large tome fronts to back, and that was just those that had died defending the south wall. He had to make sure to remember to remember everyone that had been killed under their command him and Kijin. For that wall will have to be rebuilt and those that had been killed protect devised to have their names inscribed on its surface so that no one would ever forget. The task had taken him most of the day but at least he was done now, he had left the records in the hand s of one of the few soldier that had survived the assault. They would make sure that whoever and however that wall was built that his final order would be followed through.

His mind wouldn’t allow him to rest however it keeps seeing more thing to do or better ways that he could have improved the wall or his style of leadership. So many had died under his command, there was just so many he always had a way to rationalise it, but this was death on a scale he wasn’t use to. If the ledger wasn’t red before it was now dripping the colour. He had failed in his task as co-commander it was his job to make sure that the wall was kept up, and now he was failing again. He had made the call to sacrifice the lives of those on the wall to ensure that the enemy was not able to get to the capital. It was the right choice, but for some reason, the battle haunted his waking moments. He would have to put it behind him if he ever to move forward, there was something in this life…… in terra that a person had to do for the greater good. He had managed to help save millions of non-combats for just thousands of soldiers. It was the best possible position that he had at the time, damnit he needed a drink.

He was approaching a bar when he saw something familiar it was a robe, a robe that he had help picked out a few days before all of this went down. If he recalled correctly, it belongs to a mage, yes a man named Emil he had plans to fight in the war, didn’t he. Well by the look on his face that was what he did, the boy was too deep in contemplation. He commanded the man, so there was something that he needed to do. Wiping his doubts from his face, there were things no man was allowed to see. Grabbing a mug of something cold form the waitress silencing her with a look and rest a silver piece on the tray to pay, he was no thief after all. Dropping down into a seat next to the lad, talking a hefty gulp of his drink. “I see you made it out alive Emil, well done.”

 

His one good eye flicked upwards from his pipe to zero in on the face belonging to the familiar voice assaulting his ears. That single grey-blue ocular was cold and distant for a fraction of a second before it, and the rest of Emil’s facial features turned into a more welcoming mask, one complete with a smile. He sat forward and crossed his ankles, his head inclining toward the very man whose words reached Emil’s ears much too late for the magus to heed them while a hand gestured to the empty seat. Stay to the back lines…

Master Aalam, he greeted, his fingers lacing together atop the table at which they sat. I am very pleased to see you on the living side of the causalities. From the whispers and messaging going on, you put up quite the presence at the south wall and it stood all the longer because of your expert genius in battle. There was a wooden goblet to the left of Emil’s plate to which he grabbed and lifted in silent toast to this man.

Taking a sip, he returned it once more to the table with grace and poise. Tell me, have the days and nights been keeping you well? Finding it hard to get back to the hum-drum after such an exhilarating experience?

There was no malice or sarcasm locked within Emil’s words and his gestures – ethereally connected and flowing like sand through an hourglass – were convincingly conversational. However, perhaps his mannerisms were too genteel and his words too refined. His features remained politely passive; a slightly quirked eyebrow to indicate a willingness to converse and a wonder about his current mental state, hands quiet upon the table instead of fidgeting and his posture was loose and relaxed, the shoulders leaning forward to show interest.​

 

"Another plate of roast here! Here's the payment for the last one!"

Bradwynne showed an empty plate with a number of coins to the waitress, who seemed to be waiting on him at the side of the table where he was sitting, given the number of empty plates stacked on the table. The waitress then nodded, and then scampered to the bar again to inform the cook about his order.

It was a good thing that fullness was almost just an abnormal feeling here separate from the real world, Bradwynne thought as he glanced at his belly, which was quite bulging from the amount of steaks he had eaten. Back in the real world, Kieran visited the cheesesteak place he was always frequenting before he goes home, and then gobbled up a lot of the sandwiches when in former times he could only finish one, which left the owners puzzled as to what happened to this scrawny lad here and why he had ordered a lot. Kieran ate a lot until he could not eat anymore, but he just could not shake off the great loneliness and anguish he was feeling. Not contented with that, he then ran from that place up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and then, with rapidity, he climbed the stairs in the eastern entrance, and then when he had reached the top, he shouted out, but still the anguish he was feeling could not be removed from him. Not feeling content with everything he did to remove the feeling he then ran back towards his house and after a quick bath and refreshments he plugged his VR adapter.

But even after all the things he did to alleviate the sadness he was feeling from having to kill a huge number of soldiers, the sadness did not go away; after the waitress delivered the plate of roast to his table and started and finished to eat it, the sadness did not go away. He then thought of something that should be another way to remove the sadness, but Kieran was a 14-year-old and had not experienced drinking alcohol in his whole life. But it was said and was always advertised, that drinking anything with alcohol was a sure way to forget sadness. He was full anyway, and could not take anymore food, and so somewhat easing it out should be a fine way to deal with the sadness he was experiencing. He then glanced on his surroundings to look for someone that might be experiencing the same way. He easily saw two of the people he knew while they were defending the two gates: one was a commander of the first gate he was sent to defend, while the other one he remotely knew while defending the other gate. The former seemed to be taking into wine, the latter was into... maybe tobacco, given the pipe near him. He did not really like the smell of tobacco, and so the only alternative was...

"Here should be the payment for the last steak," Bradwynne said, then gave a number of coins to the waitress. He then said, "My next order should be two bottles of wine and a platter of cheese, thanks." When the wine and the cheese was delivered to his table, he opened one bottle of wine, which smelled good, and poured it into a glass, and then he took a sip. It was sweet to the taste, but became bitter as he gulped it, and then became a mild burning sensation as it was going down his throat. He then thought that was the feeling of war after all, it was like wine. The victory was very sweet, but would become so bitter that it stings as time progresses.

 

He was to correct to in balance it was like nothing he had done in that war had faced Emil and for well as he knew no man could go through that hell and come out the other side the same as normal. Not one as green as him, so he looked closer watching his face and his eyes looking for what he was trying to hide. The boy was good he would give him that if nothing else, Aalam could right out tell how bad the war had affected him. He knew that the man hadn’t taken his advice then, he had seen him on the frontlines and he had seen those that he had cut down.

That was not good one must deal with what they had done not lock them away in the dark, but it was not his place to force those emotions to the surface. It was his job to check up on those that had severed under him on the wall. It was his reasonability to do so. As his thoughts went back to the wall he wondered who Lord Seto would be able to fix it, it was border on his lands and he believes that his lord would prefer not to borrow money from Duchess Lucia. Suppressing a mental shiver that woman there was something wrong with her he could feel it in his blood.

Turning his attention back to Emil taking the next sip from his mug before he looked at him looked at him turning on investigation mode to see. All it showed him was that everything was perfect that nothing was out of place, and that wasn’t right. There were two things he needs to do right now, the first was fix Emil and the second was dealing with that boy or girl who was stuffing mountains of meat down her throat. Waving the same waitress that Emil dismissed earlier back to their table. “I need a second portion of whatever he had ordered before, and I want you to tell that person at the table over there” Pointing at @Bradwynne table. “I want you to bring her latest order to this table and invite her to sit with us. Thank you.”

Turning back to Emil as the order was being carried out there was something that he needed to correct. “I am no Master, @Emil Trevelyan I am just an ordinary man no more no less than you. As for the battle, I sleep because if I don’t, I would not be as efficient as an archer. Life keeps on moving Emil, and I have been in worse places many worst places.”

 

His single good eye cut away from Aalam to the man (…woman?) that was invited over to his table. There was a flair of mild annoyance – his cheek happened to twitch and his vision narrowed a touch before swinging back to Aalam. It wasn’t that Emil was anti-social, but this was his table to begin with. Shouldn’t the pyromaniac be the one to invite people to sit and dine with them? However, he said nothing.

To his partner’s words, the faux-noble could only shrug his shoulders. An ordinary man who did an extraordinary thing, he countered, his tone lightly teasing. No one else volunteered to lead the defense into battle against the invaders. Many a soldier – NPC and otherwise – owe their life to you. Believe me when I say someone could stand up in a tavern, toast to your name or even knowing you, and be in bed with a fine lady by dawn’s light. The smirk that crossed his lips was almost sardonic, but there was a touch of sincerity within his gaze.

The serving woman took that moment to reappear with @Aalam Abungu ’s food (salmon, potatoes, asparagus) and Emil’s spread of deserts. She paused there at the table with a pleasant smile, the tray resting easily in the crook of her arm, her head turned toward the magus as if waiting for something. Emil, seeing this, cleared his throat and gestured to the tray in its entirety. Please, leave it here. I dare say I’ll consume all of it as it looks delicious. My most humble thanks and appreciation to the chef.

She merely blinked in surprised and did as asked, leaving the tray laden with sweets resting on a stand she brought over to the table. Emil, eyes once more on his eating companion, picked what appeared to be a donut from the spread and placed it on his empty plate in front of him.

Life does tumble on, he murmured after a moment, knife and fork poised above the donut before he began to cut. And yet, in all this…return to normalcy, you are the only one that has sought me out. Interesting, I dare say. You care so deeply for someone you’ve never met before and only shared a passing battle with. Tell me…why? Passing curiosity, perhaps?​

 

Bradwynne suddenly found himself quite dizzy, his two bottles of wine and his platter of cheese being finished. He didn't think that he would be this dizzy after he had drank wine, but somehow, his body was still craving for some more. But still, the sadness still lingered in his mind, and the alcohol almost did nothing to pull himself from the sadness. Well maybe the wine he had ordered was not enough, he thought. He then signaled the waitress, and then, giving her the money for the last order, he then said, "Anothhheeer buuuhhhttle of waaayyyne aaand plaaatter of cheeessshhhe, thhhaaankssshhh." He noticed, even his voice had gone loud and his s-sounds became slurry while he was talking. Maybe the wine was getting the better of him, he thought. He then remembered some times when people go on riots just because they were drunken. Maybe that would be the result of wine, they would become too outspoken in their thoughts that they would be excessive in doing them. Well it would be just sadness for Bradwynne, so he then thought that he should just bleed it all through out.

Minutes passed and Bradwynne's order was not yet served. Bradwynne's patience, marred by wine, had all ran out and he then called the waitress again. When he inquired about his order, the waitress pointed at one table, where two of the people he was acquainted with from the wall defenses were. After a few misgivings, Bradwynne agreed, and was to stand up from his chair.

A feeling of extreme vertigo gripped Bradwynne as he was about to stand from his chair. Everything around him looked like they were spinning from his sight. His head quite aching, he held his forehead and tried to walk towards the table, but to no avail as his right foot hit a table leg and he stumbled down. The waitress looked at him with concern, but as Bradwynne stood up, he said, in a slurred voice common to drunkards, "I'm fine, I'm fine. Happens to me all the time. Always." He then continued to walk, although his legs were quite wobbly, and he then reached the table where the two were seated, and then sat at the vacant chair in that table where his order was placed. As he pulled the cork of the wine bottle and started to pour its content in a cup, he then asked the person who he thought was the one who motioned for him to move to that table: the commander of the defenses of the South. "What is it you wish?" he said in a slurry tone.

 

Aalam watched Emil he checked the person at the other table; the man might not have liked the fact that he would invite someone to his table but hey both were dealing with the event of the war. Emil had his buried deep and that would do well if he wasn’t able to properly deal with his action and well Bradwynne seemed to be burring his action in croupous amounts of liquor with wasn’t a good thing not for someone like him. However, it seemed the Emil though highly of him for some reason, well that was going to be odd when he let the man down. As for the fact of people raising a toast in his name, well he doubted that as well. He was sure that only a few people knew he was helping to lead the defence of the wall and even a smaller amount would know his names. Most people would know Kijin’s name before they knew him as that man was on the field with his soldiers. He would be happy if it just ended up like that he didn’t want to become a household name after all. It would be a lot harder to do what he did if his name became on that was spoken in homes.

Taking some of the food from the tray that was brought over and mashing them together into a sandwich. Stuffing the entire into his mouth chewing a few times before swallowing it down in a gulp. @Emil Trevelyan was right this was good food even if the café wasn’t something that was in his desired taste, it was too refined. He preferred his taverns rough and a bit messy this place was much too clean for him to feel well at home but when in Rome as they say. Taking a gulp from his tankard the liquid inside burning his throat as it went down, he would have to get the boy to eat more real food all those sweets that he kept putting down was not good for him.

“I sought you out simply because it is a commander’s job to do so, I might have only been partly in charge but I still am responsible for the welfare of those that were under my command. I tried to check up on most after the war to see how they are copping. It is as simple as that.”

As Aalam replied to Emil he reached over and took the bottle and glass from @Bradwynne drinking whatever was in the glass and moving the bottle further away. Grabbing the plate of meat and cheeses add a slab of bread to it a pushing it towards him. “Eat that and stop drinking.”

 

The spellweaver could barely contain his quirked eyebrow at the response given to him. If only commanders in the real world sought out their soldiers to make sure they were dealing with the aftermath of their actions (or inactions) like this gentleman here did. A warmness spread in Emil’s ribcage and his good eye traveled slowly from staring at @Aalam Abungu , to the donut he had cut up on his plate. Fork tongs speared a single piece before he brought it to his lips to eat.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about being checked up on. He had a large array of friends that melted into and out of his life on the regular basis and his brother was good for checking in at least once a week to make sure he wasn’t dead. But, Anthony didn’t believe that Emil had those connections. He seemed to tolerate his loneliness with an indifference that came with high scholarly pursuits. So, in this, Anthony had Emil remain quiet and eat his donut even if the man was slightly warmed by his ex-commander’s thoughts on his troops.

Chewing quietly while the two other interacted, Emil waited until there was a lull in conversation before he wiped his fingers on a stray napkin and extended his hand to @Bradwynne . Emil Trevelyan, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I assume because Sir Aalam knows you, you were also at the wall? A toast, to making it out alive.

There was a slight sting of sarcasm in these words.

If he wishes to drown his sorrows in libations, I don’t see why you will not allow it Aalam. He is a grown lad, Emil gave him a once-over with his good eye, and can take care of himself, I would wager. He isn’t dead, after all.

 

As Bradwynne's bottle and glass were snatched from him by Aalam, he said in a slurred speech, "Hey, give it back!" as he tried to grab them back, but it was futile as his movement was quite slowed down by a number of factors, alcohol included. Maybe if he was at his former agile state, he had already snatched it. But as the bottle was snatched from him, he then set his frustration about everything that had happened to him on the makeshift sandwich shoved to him by Aalam as he picked it up and devoured it as if he was a lion and the sandwich was an antelope or other prey. By the time the person who introduced himself as Emil Trevelyan introduced himself and extended his hand towards Bradwynne, he had already finished the sandwich as he took a hand and gave it a firm shake as he introduced himself and after wiping his hands on another napkin on the table. "The name is Bradwynne Lambert, and yes, I was one of those who had fought alongside this gentleman over here at the walls. Both walls for that matter." In a drunk tone he said those words. "Fought both great creatures, slain soldiers in both Falderen armies... and one Astorean turncoat for that matter." He then stayed silent as the man continued on speaking, and then he continued on his slurry speech. "Tell me good sirs, are we really on the right in this matter of war?" Tears then started to well up in his eyes. "I have this Astorean soldier that I had stopped when he was about to kill the surrendered soldiers shortly after the war. I tried to reason that we should stop killing as the war was already over and anything beyond that would spark more conflict, but this soldier tried to reason himself up, saying that I as a player had really never cared about them residents of this world, and when he was about to kill one of the surrendered soldiers, my hand drew the sword without thinking and..." He then held his face, trying to stop his tears, but the tears still overflowed from his hands. "I might have killed an innocent person by my anger. So tell me... are really on the right about this war? I want to know! Everything that I should know!"

 

“Even the best of men could make mistakes when under great emotional stress Emil, I know I have been guilty of the same at times.” As he addressed @Emil Trevelyan his voice was smooth. Taking a sip of the wine that was brought to his table, it was from a good vintage, and the maker seemed to have known what he was doing as he made the batch. Taking the next sip from the glass draining the entire thing. Yes, that was a good batch he would have to remember this brand whenever he came back to this café sometime in the future, as slim a chance as that would be.

Grabbing one of the loafs of brad form the tray and cutting himself off a thick slice buttering the piece and add a wedge of cheese before taking a nibble. Well, he could now see why Emil loved this little spot the drink might not have been the best, but they did have excellent cheeses. Well, it would make a good spot to come back to later if things worked out and if it didn’t well, he could always come back for the last drink before the end. Then the boy started to rant, and his anger leaked form him like air from a balloon, while Bradwynne kept up his rant Aalam took another piece of toast off the tray and started to eat.

He was only halfway through this piece however when the boy finished, he had tears in his eyes and was breathing heavily. Scratching an itch thinking about this problem for a few seconds before answering, tipping his glass @Bradwynne “Well, first you did nothing wrong that solider was about to murder a prisoner of war for no reason, other than he was mad. So he was no innocent and second no matter what you have done you’ve done nothing wrong. You were following orders from your commander unburden your soul, any guilt you feel, any judgment you believe you deserve my burden to bear.”

 

Both walls, hm? Emil whispered to himself, a slender brow rising at the admission of the other male. Should Eastwatch have fallen, Emil would have had to make the decision to head to Southwatch and reinforce there. From his current state, he could firmly say that he wouldn’t have lifted a finger to get to Southwatch in time. He would have retreated into the city, gone to the medical ward, and allowed others to take care of him instead of pushing himself to the limits as he had and ending up even more fucked up than he was originally.

Subtly, Emil reached for his pipe and took another long drag from it. Once more, his thoughts scattered, the back of his throat going numb, and he felt that warm happiness inside him once more.

As @Bradwynne started in on his story, Emil went back to his donut, meticulously cutting the round treat into smaller pieces before spearing them with his fork and placing them in his mouth. Though his eyes remained on the plate, he listened to the tale, his shoulders even leaning more toward Bradwynne as if that would allow him to hear better. When the boy stopped, Emil cleared his throat, sighed, and replied.

Everyone is wrong and everyone is right when it comes to war. You fight for your king and kingdom and the opposing force does it as well, whether by their own volition or being threatened into the position. You are right in that the soldier’s actions would have sparked more conflict, but perhaps slaying him outright was, as you said, a rather rash judgment in the heat of the moment.

Though his eye was cold throughout his monologue, his voice held a tenderness that he was not known for.

If you need more answers than that, I suggest writing to the King and asking him your questions. He is the one everyone was fighting for, after all.

His attention swayed to @Aalam Abungu and he couldn’t help the scoff that sounded from his lips. You are a mortal man. You cannot bear the weight of another’s sins or guilt upon your shoulders. We were willing participants, we weren’t conscripted into service.​

 

They were both good people, some of the best people that he would have known in other cases but they had been forced into war. Well at least Emil was able to hold his conscience in check he was ready to under the weight of war. Even a war like this one that was fought on a virtual field in the middle of a game, however even here it seemed that actions had weight. He had learned that from the prison and there he had learned what pain had meant maybe less than some, but he still felt it. It was a shame that Bradwynne had been on the walls and had to fight. The man was so young to young; he should have ordered him back inside the wall and away from the primary battle. He had tried to keep everyone I good health, but he had seen when the boy was struck down and killed. Being someone who had never died in the game it was something that he had no experience with. Taking his glass and refilling it with the wine that was on the table finishing off the rest that was in the bottle. Passing the bottle along to a waitress that was passing and refusing her offer to bring the next bottle to the table.

“He was not wrong in his action of that soldier had gone any further I assure that the Duke of the land would have given him either death and his family would have been disgraced, or he would have given the man exiled from his territory. At least with Bradwynne actions the man will have been written as died in war defending the kingdom and will be remembered as a good soldier and good man.” Taking a sip of his wine using it to wash the food down his throat, it was a good sweet wine. “However Emil is right if your actions still burden your heart, there are a few temples to the Court of light in the city. Talk to one of the priests and ask them to judge your actions, this is their world let them judge you. @Bradwynne you are not at fault here.”

Taking a next hearty swig from his mug for continuing this was something the needed to be said for it was something that he believed. “ I have to carry the weight of the action that was taken there @Emil Trevelyan I was the commander that prioritize the defense of the wall at the cost of lives. I railed them to hold the wall even though I knew how much it would have cost them in the long run. I called out targets, and the soldiers followed my commander. My shoulders held that power and this is something that came with that power.”