Local Hobo Mage Expert At Social Distancing

Most admirable quality: “His dedication to the arcane studies.”

Most attractive physical feature: “Oh his face absolutely, especially when it’s twisted with annoyance.”

Most annoying habit: “His emotional walls, though knowing what I do again...I don’t blame him for putting those up with everyone.”

Something they would like to do with them: “Oh stars, probably discuss his views on the arcane more. I’d be happy to sit and listen to that.”

Commission for @karthe-surick

"Alastar, Assuming you're still alive and somewhere close to the city limits, I have a bit of a job proposition for you. Nothing like the Manafall Shitshow, mind you. Just some informant work. Like the good ol' days. Karthe."

           The words on the page were read, but the meaning seemed to escape Alastar. So he read it again. Then again. For the third time, his face felt like a statue of dissociation. "Fucker, what good old days?" His tongue clicked just as the paper found its way to his hip, fluttering in a light breeze between his fingers.

           A woman was staring at him, or had been, she quickly averted her eyes and rapidly took up her mail and hurried right on out. Alastar took in a breath, rubbed his temples, and made his way out of the bank and into a bright sunny day.

           Do I really need this? Is it really worth my time? My patience?

           He wandered into the nearest bar, which was not The Slaughtered Lamb or Pigs and Whistles. He wandered out to Goldshire, best known for the woman that were more or less over exaggerated; maybe in another time they were beautiful and bringing in men from all corners of Azeroth, but not at the moment.

           As for his questions, work was coming. Small bodyguard jobs, maybe a few raids on bandits, a couple of vending jobs he picked up himself; the herbs being grown up at his manor were strangely in demand with the whole war on the demons issue. He was bringing in just enough money to pay for his house, but everything else? His weapons needed to be properly sharpened, his armor needed to be stitched up, a new pair of gambeson would be nice.

           Shit Karthe, what kind of trouble did you get yourself in that you are calling on my ass for? After-all, the last several hundred jobs Alastar had done for Karthe had been botched. Every. Single. One.

           He was half-way through his first drink when that thought hit him and he couldn't help but hang his head. Pathetic and a coward he was.

           "Woman trouble?" The bartender said.

           Alastar waved his hand, "No. Worse. Ex-employers."

           The tender provided a snort, an apologetic pat on the shoulder, before going back his own business.

           When Alastar finished his drink half an hour later, he called the tender back over and asked for a piece of paper and a pen.

@karthe-surick

He was in the scheme of things replaceable, unimportant in the eyes of a rising power as his bargain was complete and his mind already opened. He didn't let much of the evening's arguments with Karthe interrupt that and found it couldn't till he woke in Westfall. He was safe, fine...He turned as the winds howled along the plains, he could not give up the Void no. That ship had sailed long ago and he couldn't. The voices...All of it was him, part and one with him.

"You can't just ask me to have emotions about something I haven't for a long time..."

He heard himself retort as the mighty mage spat bitter generalities without considering the complexity of issues at hand. Yet part of him had wanted to be Karthe's villain, just so the man would quit his aggression. While such slander and angry words didn't bother him as much as some he knew at least it was upsetting Mary who was already worn out. In the end the mage left with a look of disappointment on his face.

Odum shuffled onto the path, feeling a bit tired himself and the hunger gnawed quietly at him. He would prove Karthe wrong...So he hoped, it was often betrayal that set his viscous machinations in motion yet this time...He felt perhaps it would all be well and he could move forward. Even as the shadows whispered great change across the stars, coming at last to rest upon his weary mind. He had no...Feelings about what he'd done this night and as he dwelt on it that indifference only grew.

He may thank Seraanna for her words and still he felt she was likely desiring visible change if any to words. One could say a lot of things but actions often spoke louder. He hummed contently to this.

He was but a grain of sand upon a beach, small in the grand scheme of things...It allowed him to slip away at the completion of his bargain to see about changing what he'd been doing all these years. If he could...Wonderful, if not...So be it.