August Prompt

The Whispering Sea had been forgotten, abandoned, uncared for, clearly. That is one man’s argument. He is loud and proud and has a lot to say, but it is clear that he does not know what he is saying. A quick glance at his ratty clothes and the salty mud on his boots suggest that he is from the marshes- perhaps why he is so passionate.

No, the mages of the Order simply did not fight hard enough! After two monsters, they should have been more prepared! This woman is insistent in fighting him. She has been most of the night. The danger had been clear. Hunters had been dispatched. They simply did not fight to their fullest.

There is one thing they can agree on, though.
One monster could have been expected after the previous year.
Two was unusual, but hopefully a fluke.
Three was just cruel.

Sebastien had been leaning back against his chair, arm looped over the back and head rolled back to rest against the wall. He could feel it now- the gentle up down, up down, of the room as alcohol had lulled him into a state of gentle contentment. Content to listen to the buzz, eyes half lidded as his arms kay crossed lazily over his chest.

In truth, most had learned to ignore him. He was nothing more than decoration; a statue that had been passed so many times it had been forgotten about.

So perhaps that was why the pair had startled when he stirred beside them, leaning forward to reach his hand across the bar counter and tap the old oak with his finger.

“Your passions… are… missguided.” His speech is slow and strained - tired - as he speaks, as though he had just woken up. In a way, he had, and he welcomes the ice cold of his whiskey glass as the bartender slides him a fresh one. There’s a shake to his hands as he brings the drink to his lips, visibly relaxing as it burns his throat and settles warmth into his gut.

“Do not place… a… non mage - archon -” He says it with a mock in his tone, his breath tching through his teeth. “-in charge of an Order of Mages and expect- expect anything to go well. Surprised that it took so long?” He stands, then, swaying on his feet as he throws back the rest of his whiskey in a single drink.

“I’m… I’m surprised they managed to defeat any at all,” He breathes with a dismissive wave of his hand before he steps away, not sparing either of them another glance as he fights off the ache in his temples.

He can feel their eyes on him as he leaves, his hands finding his pockets as his foot takes a funny sweep to the side to catch his misplaced balance. And a small smile pricks at the corner of his lips, for he can hear them whispering something about the resident drunk making sense.

It truly was the end of everything they knew.