Fragments Gallery
Making Choices
The tavern was subdued that evening. The chilly weather outside seemed to dampen everyone spirits and it showed in the common room's atmosphere. The door slammed shut as yet another patron, finally sick of the mood, wandered out into the snow.
Kerric swirled the liquid around in the bottom of his mug before setting it down without it having touched his lips. Idly he ran a hand down the faint white scar which ran down the side of his face. He had choices to make and no idea which way he should go.
"Not what you're looking for then eh?" growled a voice from off to the side.
Kerric turned, an angry yet quickly supressed glint in his eye, to confront the speaker. His anger faded as he looked upon the old man sitting at the table beside him. The man had been a proud warrior once, but the years since the rebellion had been cruel to him. He had lost his family years ago as sickness had ravaged the town, and then he had lost his lively hood when bandits had crippled him and left him for dead in his journeys. He had limped back to this old town shortly thereafter.
"Nolan," Kerric greeted him gruffly after swallowing the harsh words he had intended.
"I've seen that look before," Nolan said again. He swept up his drink, rose and dragged a chair over to Kerric's empty table. His wooden claw of a foot slammed heavily into the floor with every step. The man let the chair fall with a thud and collapsed backwards into it. He heaved a great sigh and promptly took another deep swallow from his mug. From the smell it certainly wasn’t his first drink.
Kerric shifted uncomfortably. Just because he didn't want a conflict with the old man didn't mean he wanted him to stick around. Regardless of how Kerric felt the other man continued.
"I've seen that look on my own face reflected in many a stream. I've seen other men, from all levels of power and many kingdoms, wear that look upon their brow," he took a long drink from his mug and when he finally slammed it back on the table it was empty, "You've a woman on your mind."
Kerric smiled, although he felt as though the expression must more appear to be a grimace than a smile for how it was frozen upon his face. There had been times when that had been what was on his mind but this was not one of those times.
"Not today, well…” he hesitated, “Maybe in part but that is not all that I am thinking of."
"Sure it is! I'd recognize that look anywhere! I'd say the best for you to do would be forget her," Nolan shook his finger in the air to emphasize his point, "Because there is always going to be another girl! You may not see it now but soon you will."
The tavern door slammed open to admit a pair of grizzled men Nolan raised a hand to them in greeting and rose from Kerric's table.
"Things will all get better," he says in farewell, "You'll see."
Kerric just raised a hand and watched him stomp away to join the other men.
It was just that choice he had. He simply had to decide what he was to do. He’d received word that soldiers were gathering, that a war was brewing. Should he answer the call and leave everything he had ever known? Leave to fight for what he believed in? Or should he remain here in this quiet little town, take up carpentry or something until the war was over and the world had settled.
He hated choices like this, far too much rode on the decision.