Gregos Horner

Gregos enjoys making plushies in his free time. In fact, this Starlight he was gifted many sewing kits, instructional books and materials. His newest creation sits on top of his head - one more step towards his dream of opening a merchant stall at the Ala Mhigan market nights.

Side note: I can’t believe I did the writing challenge. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO The sun was high in the sky and beat down on Gregos' skin. He was busy tending the estate's gardens - pulling weeds and tending the soil for a new harvest.

Alistair and Brooker enjoyed having food grown right in their backyard. Though Alistair tended to most of the day-to-day aspects of maintaining their crops, Gregos would do more manual labor for them when seasons changed, and they needed to make way for new growth.

Alistair came out of the estate with a glass of water for Gregos and checked his progress. He nodded and patted the highlander on the shoulder. "Keep goin', yer doin' a good job."

Gregos drank the entire glass and smiled. "Thank you. I should be done in about a bell if you want to grab the seeds." He placed the glass over to the side and continued his work.

"Ow!" he shouted and looked down at his hand. A large splinter of wood lodged itself into his palm. "Seven hells..." he mumbled. With his teeth, he pulled on the wood, dislodging it from his hand. Gregos stared at the handle and threw the tool to the side. "Piece of junk," he mumbled as blood began to spread down his hand.

Removing his headwrap, Gregos tied it tightly around his hand. He frowned and instead of going to the shed and grabbing a new hoe, he instead dropped to his knees, dragging his hands into the dirt.

"Gregos! What do you think yer doin'?" Alistair shouted behind him. Gregos quickly stood up and brushed the dirt from his hands onto his body. "Ye tryin' to lose a hand? Get over 'ere an' lemme see that."

Gregos lifted his hand towards Alistair, blood already soaking through his dirty wrap. "Get inside, love. Yer done workin' today. Let Brooker heal that up fer ye. I kin take it from 'ere."

The blue-haired highlander nodded and then walked inside the house. Alistair stood and watched as he entered the door, shaking his head. "He gonna work himself to death."

Enough has been said about Starvos, Gregos' father. Though he was a tough man, almost borderline abusive, Gregos did learn a lot. Most of it was what not to become or what to do, but he did have the following thoughts when asked about what he learned from his father:

Children should be children and should not know the bad of adulthood.

Children should get an education, or at the very least, learn how to read and write.

Math is actually a needed skill.

Every child should have one plushie to love.

Don't send kids out into the desert alone. Bad things happen.

Teach others the good side of the Twelve. Rhalgr isn't /that/ bad.

Learning to fight is good, but should not be everything.

Alcohol is bad, it makes people angry.

Loving a nation is one thing, but being Ala Mhigan shouldn't be an excuse for bad behavior.

Home is where you make it.

Surround yourself with positive people.

Stand up for yourself.

Ask questions, even if you might get punched.

Ul'dah is full of bad people.

Limsa is full of smelly fish people.

Gridania is full of magic tree people.

Ishgard is full of snobby Elezens.

Don't follow orders blindly.

Don't be afraid to admit you're wrong.

"No need to fight, gentlemen. Gregos, bring those to Hilda in the back of the manufactury?" The highlander frowned Elezen, who earlier shoulder checked him. It's been a few moons since Gregos moved into Ishgard. He found work within the machinest guild but was struggling to gain their respect.

"Why must we have these... animals in our fair city?" Ceroux said, waving his hand towards Gregos. "This one especially, he doesn't have one shred of intelligence." A cold-hearted laugh escaped the Elezen's lips.

"You best watch your tongue!" Stephanivien erupted and pointed his finger. "Any commoner who has taken an interest in our machinistry are welcome here."

"Yet this one is lower than a commoner. A foreigner who hasn't even figured out how to bathe." Ceroux responded. He walked over and kicked over a can of bolts that Gregos was on his hands and knees collecting. Gregos looked up and frowned but didn't say anything and just went back to recollecting the scattered metal.

Stephanivien saw the disrespect and would have none of it as he grabbed Ceroux by the arm and marched him into the back room. Yelling could be heard throughout the manufactury. After a few minutes, the pair came out from behind closed doors. Gregos avoided eye contact, standing up with the box of material. "I hope you're happy. They chose to keep a dumb refugee instead of myself," Ceroux then spit at Gregos' feet before leaving the building.

"I would rather have you anyway, Gregos." said the boss. Gregos' face with deep red, and it looked like he was about to have a breakdown. Stephanivien could tell and walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. You're doing just fine. A few more moons and you'll be just as talented as any other machinest."

Gregos smiled and nodded at the Elezen. What he didn't know was that Stephanivien must have had a soft spot for the man. Though the Elezen's inventions were relatively new, they weren't that difficult to pick up for most - in fact, it took around a moon for someone to become moderately proficient at them. Gregos, on the other hand, struggled mightily with the ranged weapon.

Stephanivien secretly knew that Gregos stayed after every sun went down to practice. He was aware that the highlander was frustrated with himself but admired his dedication.

Only kill when you have to, or that's what the Fists told Gregos. Being invited to the group of monks who preach passivism was beginning to become secretly problematic for Gregos.

Though he enjoyed everyone's company, Gregos gained most of his closest friends through this group, some of their teachings fell on deaf ears.

The hardest pill to swallow was to show mercy towards the enemy. To not kill someone when they are 'no longer a threat.' Gregos didn't understand how they could not be one. Conscripted or not, they were on the wrong side of the battle. A wounded soldier would be healed and sent back to the front lines. The Garleans never showed mercy, so why should he? The mages who attack his best friend wouldn't think twice about striking either of them down.

There was not a single cloud in the sky as Gregos looked up at the stars. It was a quiet evening within the ward as Gregos walked the beach with Alistair and Brooker.

The highlander initially started their walk two paces behind them, making sure he wasn't a nuisance. He was content taking in the sights and smiling as he watched Alistair teasing Brooker as they made it the shore.

As Gregos placed one foot into the sand, he was startled as Brooker pulled him to walk with them side by side together. "Tonight is a night off, you deserve it. We shall enjoy each other's company as family."

Gregos glanced at Alistair, almost like he was awaiting confirmation from him that it was okay. Alistair nodded and smirked at him before continuing their walk.

The blue-haired highlander remained mostly quiet and listened to the two Greywolf Masters banter about their day. The three of them eventually made it up to the hot springs hidden behind a rocky cliff. Gregos slipped behind the two as they stepped into the warm water. He turned his back to stand watch and could hear the two make whispers to one another.

"Did ye forget that ye ain't workin' tonight?" Alistair called out with a chuckle. Gregos spun around, his face a deep red.

"Aye, sorry." he mumbled and slipped into the water. The moment the water hit his chest, he started to relax, sitting across from the pair.

Brooker hummed as he watched Gregos finally release some tension in his body. The oversized Hellguard smiled at Gregos, or at least his version of a smile. "Alistair has told me that he's been teaching you how to wield a katana," he said.

Gregos sank, the water hitting his lips as he blew bubbles. He eyed the two and lifted his head enough to speak. "I ain't very good at it. You may be disappointed."

Brooker waved his almost comically large hand in the air. "No, no. One does not master an art overnight. But, Alistair is proud of your progress, and I would like to see it for myself. Would you care to do a demonstration when we get back to the estate?"

"You have really nice hair." Gregos pointed to Balthius with a smile. That was the first sentence the blue-haired highlander said to the monk with the bright red streaks. Balthius stood there and blinked a few times before smiling back, "You do too!" he responded.

The two had a very brief conversation after dinner with the Fists. Though Gregos has attended the gatherings for some time, it was the first time that Balthius showed up. He was a former student of Berrod and hasn't participated since before Gregos joined. The two had a typical friendly introduction and got to know some of the basics about each other before they parted ways. Gregos was only expecting to run into the Fist at the gatherings at the most, but to his surprise, he returned home later that week to find Balthius chatting with Alistair in the living room.

Gregos pointed to Balthius' hair again. "You changed it," he yelled and stared at the stark white streak. "What are you doin' here?" he questioned with a bright smile.

"I used to live here," he said and patted Alistair's shoulder. Gregos stared at Balthius, and then Alistair as his face dropped.

"A lon' time before ye and I met," Alistair said to Gregos. "Why don't ye both get to know one 'nother? I'm headin' to bed," Alistair kissed Gregos on the head before heading upstairs. The blue-haired highlander looked confused and a bit angry.

"So why /are/ you here?" Gregos questioned as he removed his armor. The two spent the evening getting into their histories with the Greywolf house. Balthius was a former lover of Alistair's who returned home to Limsa. Gregos learned that the Fist lived with his father and was taking care of him. When Balthius and Alistair split, it wasn't that long before Gregos entered the Greywolf house. They were like two ships passing in the night.

Overtime, Balthius kept showing up at the house to say hello to Gregos and Alistair - and before long, Balthius moved back in. The Fist was adamant that they were to be friends, and Gregos would not need to be a retainer for him.

The sun was barely beginning to set as Gregos made his way towards the saltery. He spent the entire day out in the salt flats patrolling and killing a few stray oversized insects that ventured too far towards the encampment.

It was the first week that Gregos moved into his families' homeland. His first encounter was with an angry red-headed highlander who scolded him about his firearm and gave him a quick lesson on the area's history.

He decided from then on to keep his gun locked away from view. In his hands, instead, would be his father's axe. It was almost comically oversized, had spark spikes all over and Gregos somewhat resented it - it reminded him of his failure to protect his family.

Gregos came to Ala Mhigo to make up for the lost time he spent in Ishgard. Though he never regretted leaving, there was always a lingering 'what if I stayed,' in the back of his head. Would he have been able to protect Little Ala Mhigo from the Garlean raid which robbed him of his parents?

There was no way to undo the past, but Gregos was determined to honor his mother and father by returning to their homeland. Today was another step towards that goal.