Elsewhere Chronicles: Grimm (DISCONTINUED)

0.3 A Grimm Night to Remember

What a beautiful summer night, the sky was clear and the stars shone like diamonds on a bluish black tapestry. Today was the anniversary of Sentrull's victory during the Great Industrial War and a grand festival was held in the middle of Trivium. Massive flags and banners flew high on their masts with "In Memoriam" embroidered on them. Stands filled the usually busy streets of Trivium. Some offered quality goods like clothes or souvenirs while others gave out food and refreshments. One man stopped at one such shop to buy himself something to eat. This scarred man towered over most people by a good head or so. He was making his way to a nearby pub, the Long-Nyght, on the recommendation of an old friend. The man had little else to do on such a night.  A wave of sorrow sunk his heart as he stared at one of the many flags.

(Scarred Man, Irovich): "In Memoriam..."

He gave a small glance at one of the many statuettes being sold at a nearby stall.

(Irovich): "how I wish, I could forget."

He kept staring for a minute before wincing and buying the trinket. It reminded him of a certain someone he once knew. He shook his head and put the statuette in his coat. He sighed.

(Irovich): "I need a drink."

He made his way down the street, doing his best as to not bump into anyone. Once he finally stood in front of the bar, he read the name aloud, before smiling to himself.

(Irovich): "What a dumb name. Better be worth the recommendation."

As the scarred man entered, he is hit from all sides with the usual trappings of a good time. Cheap hooch, loose men and women and good grub. Despite his usual moroseness, he felt like having a good time. He ordered a tall glass of ale and started chugging along with some party goers. What a beautiful night, surrounded by friendly faces and glass after glass of the good stuff. He almost forgot about his worries, about some demon killing his old associates, about that night where he first felt guilt. He just kept drinking, drinking to forget. Despite his current state for drunkenness, he was still worried. His past associates, while cutthroat, weren't so bad. Yet this demon, as people in the criminal underworld keep calling him, has done some gruesome displays with his victims. Irovich kept thinking that this is for something, no man could commit acts so monstrous. Yet no monster or animal can do such acts with such timing, restrain or borderline surgical expertise. Each kill was a display, a message, not just some senseless butchery. Whoever or whatever did this wasn't playing. All that Irovich knew was that it walked upright, had an iron fist and that nothing could stand in its way. So far, Irovich believed that he was safe for the moment. I mean, there's no way someone would commit a gruesome murder in the middle of a festival.

The doors of the bar opened and two wildly different figures enter. A short girl skipped jovially ahead of her partner all while humming. She hopped on a high chair and gave a peace sign to the bartender. She's probably a regular since the bartender smiled and nodded before going to fetch her a drink. Her partner was rather unremarkable at first, although he was good looking. well... except for those big circles under his eyes, does this guy even sleep? A good chunk of the ladies (and some gentlemen) turned their heads at the newcomers. He sat down next to the girl and knocked on the bar twice. The bartender also acknowledged this. The two were wildly different from one another. The girl was all smiles and rainbows, while the man was sombre and oddly melancholic. The girl looked over to him and gave him a blinding smile, which in turn, made him smile. A soft, genuinely caring smile, followed by a gentle head pat. Irovich looked around and saw that others were looking on fondly at the pair. This type of cute shit usually made Irovich uneasy, even a little sick. How can people be this... happy? He didn't know, nor care. He just wanted to drink. The man at the counter was given a tall glass of mead while his... Daughter? or maybe she's his Little sister??? got, what looked like, a cream shake. She beamed as she received the sweet treat and swung her legs while sipping it through a straw. The man, on the other hand, downed his glass like it was water. The more he stared at the man and the more... familiar he felt. Like an odd sense of déja-vu. The man spoke and that feeling was reinforced in Irovich's mind.