The rays of the morning sun had awakened an old man. He groaned, pushed his blanket off of his body, and sat up in his bed. It creaked under his weight. He yawned sleepily, then stood up, and went to the washroom. He looked into the mirror and his reflection peered back at him. The man had dull grey hair, occasionally lined with small streaks of his original black hair, which was cut very short and neatly. He had piercing grey eyes that had once helped to part the legs of many women in his younger days. His face was lined with age, and tanned by the sun of so many years.
Javen shook his head as his reflection and went back into the bedroom of his small shack. He looked outside of the window to see his general store. It was the second biggest building in the small town of Ravenholm, and in a much better state than his shack, the other two small shacks, or the Hartmann farm. Dwarfing the small store that it was built near, stood the Seven Roses bar.
The right side of the bar was covered in creepers, although the wood looked new. The oaken logs which were used to build it gave a warm, golden shine. The door was made of a darker oak, with strange-looking symbols carved into it. The glass in the windows was very clean, with the same dark oak that was used for the door used to make the outside frames. In front of the door hung a large wooden sign. It was shaped to be a large rose, bearing the title "Seven Roses".
Javen was once the owner of the lot where the Seven Roses bar was built. It was bought by a young man and his brother just the previous year. Javen didn't understand why they'd want to build a bar/inn in the small town of Ravenholm, as the only people passing by were usually transport caravans, and this was a superstitious day and age; few people would stay in a town with no church. But they want a bar/inn to be there, and they had the money for it. Javen certainly didn't mind; the men who were building the Seven Roses bar frequently shopped at his small store for their smokes and their snacks, and the two owners of the bar also got a few of their supplies from his store.
The two men who purchased the plot of land were very unusual. The older of the two (whom Javen had first mistaken for a woman) had a rather slender figure, and very long, brown, wavey hair. He wasn't very tall, but it was barely noticable. He seemed pale, as though he were slightly ill, or hadn't been in the sun for a very long time. His seemingly most striking feature were his eyes; they were a golden color, and something Javen had never seen before, in his 63 years - they seemed to glow in low light or darkness.
His brother, though younger than him, was taller, and more built. His hair was cut shorter than that of his brother, and it was a deep purple color, as were his eyes. Upon seeing him, Javen had stared, as unpolite as it was, though the young man didn't seem to mind. He appeared to be more cheerful than his serious and gloomy brother, though Javen had trouble remembering their names.
The older of the two sometimes left for hours, days, weeks at a time, only to return empty haned and disappointed. Javen always wondered what it was that he was looking for, but thought it best to keep his questions to himself; it wasn't any of his business.
But that was one year ago.
It was winter now. The days were short and bitterly cold, and there was snow on the ground. Sometimes, it would snow for small periods of time, but never anything big like a blizzard. After a short period of time, Javen realized that time was slipping by, and he had a lot of work to do. It was still early in the morning, and as he was passing by the Seven Roses bar, he saw the younger of the two brothers sitting outside, on a large rock, nodding off. An axe was in his slackening hand; it seemed he was supposed to be chopping wood.
Javen thought that perhaps he should awaken him, but thought better of it, as he looked tired. It didn't matter; the man would soon catch Hell from his older brother, who would be bound to check up on him.
Javen shook his head as his reflection and went back into the bedroom of his small shack. He looked outside of the window to see his general store. It was the second biggest building in the small town of Ravenholm, and in a much better state than his shack, the other two small shacks, or the Hartmann farm. Dwarfing the small store that it was built near, stood the Seven Roses bar.
The right side of the bar was covered in creepers, although the wood looked new. The oaken logs which were used to build it gave a warm, golden shine. The door was made of a darker oak, with strange-looking symbols carved into it. The glass in the windows was very clean, with the same dark oak that was used for the door used to make the outside frames. In front of the door hung a large wooden sign. It was shaped to be a large rose, bearing the title "Seven Roses".
Javen was once the owner of the lot where the Seven Roses bar was built. It was bought by a young man and his brother just the previous year. Javen didn't understand why they'd want to build a bar/inn in the small town of Ravenholm, as the only people passing by were usually transport caravans, and this was a superstitious day and age; few people would stay in a town with no church. But they want a bar/inn to be there, and they had the money for it. Javen certainly didn't mind; the men who were building the Seven Roses bar frequently shopped at his small store for their smokes and their snacks, and the two owners of the bar also got a few of their supplies from his store.
The two men who purchased the plot of land were very unusual. The older of the two (whom Javen had first mistaken for a woman) had a rather slender figure, and very long, brown, wavey hair. He wasn't very tall, but it was barely noticable. He seemed pale, as though he were slightly ill, or hadn't been in the sun for a very long time. His seemingly most striking feature were his eyes; they were a golden color, and something Javen had never seen before, in his 63 years - they seemed to glow in low light or darkness.
His brother, though younger than him, was taller, and more built. His hair was cut shorter than that of his brother, and it was a deep purple color, as were his eyes. Upon seeing him, Javen had stared, as unpolite as it was, though the young man didn't seem to mind. He appeared to be more cheerful than his serious and gloomy brother, though Javen had trouble remembering their names.
The older of the two sometimes left for hours, days, weeks at a time, only to return empty haned and disappointed. Javen always wondered what it was that he was looking for, but thought it best to keep his questions to himself; it wasn't any of his business.
But that was one year ago.
It was winter now. The days were short and bitterly cold, and there was snow on the ground. Sometimes, it would snow for small periods of time, but never anything big like a blizzard. After a short period of time, Javen realized that time was slipping by, and he had a lot of work to do. It was still early in the morning, and as he was passing by the Seven Roses bar, he saw the younger of the two brothers sitting outside, on a large rock, nodding off. An axe was in his slackening hand; it seemed he was supposed to be chopping wood.
Javen thought that perhaps he should awaken him, but thought better of it, as he looked tired. It didn't matter; the man would soon catch Hell from his older brother, who would be bound to check up on him.
posted by Rosiel at 10:02 PM
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