[center][h1][color=fef580]Eustace Wyndham[/color][/h1][/center]
[right][b]Mentions:[/b] Hyseleia, Quille, Rylia
[b]Interactions:[/b] [@RolePlayerRoxas] Soruha, [@Eisenhorn] Renard[/right][hr][hr]
[color=lightgray]Early morning light filtered in through the window, caressing his cheeks. Eustace’s eyelids fluttered at the sun’s greeting, but though he turned over with a, [color=fef580]“Mmpf,”[/color] he slowly let himself drift into consciousness. After a few minutes of drowsing, he stretched, swung his legs over the bed’s edge, and padded to the window. He opened it, leaned on the wide wooden sill, breathing in as the sweet scent of summer beckoned. Fruit trees dotted the garden below, apricots already growing. The river burbled in the distance, carriage wheels clattering over the bridge even this early in the morning. More than anything else, Eustace’s gaze was drawn to the sunrise. This was the reason why he almost never drew his curtains closed; if at all possible, he did not wish to miss the glorious dawns nor the resplendent dusks.

Careful not to look into the sun directly, he took out one of his sketchbooks and created a quick pastel drawing – almost a sketch, really. Neither the rooster’s crowing nor the clatter of pots and pans downstairs broke him from his reverie. Only when he was done did Eustace heat water for the bath, and fix a quick meal for himself. After enjoying a proper soak, he joined Mrs. Igraine, his landlady, for coffee. Every day, the dwarven woman sat on the porch at the same time, come winter or summer, and nowadays, he would often join her. Though she wasn’t much for chitchat, she had started inviting him after he’d offered to help with her horticultural experiments – exposing select plants which she kept in the basement to light magic, playing different instruments to them, assisting with minor chores. She’d opened up to him then, at least a bit, and didn’t mind letting him practice his spotty dwarven with her.

By the time he ventured into Venne’s centre, the city was bustling. Wares were trundled on the stone-paved paths, vendors called out from their stalls, colorful fliers were posted here and there. A group of children was splashing each other at a fountain, merchants had lively talks while breaking fast under shaded patios, a newsboy ran around with bundles under his arm as he cried out the day’s headlines. The soft sound of vielle carried on the air, coaxing Eustace to hum under his breath, swaying his body as he drew closer to the busker. He flicked them a few coins, enjoyed the music for a bit, then carried on.

The streets were like a great river with how crowded it was today, except the currents flowed whichever way.

[color=fef580][i]Am I the fish swimming? Or the rock tumbling where it would?[/i][/color]

Times like these, Eustace dreamed of flying – to become a bird which could take flight, gliding above freely, seeing all that was from high above.

In the riotous swirl of people, colour, and sounds, it felt almost like an accident or a fortunate happenstance when Eustace finally arrived at the Adventurer’s Guild. Many milled outside: a party of adventurers discussing their next mission, a nem leaning against the wall, two gossipers whispering the latest intrigue. Then, of course, there was the disorderly cluster waiting to pass through the chokepoint of an entrance. Eustace lined up, watching people come and go.

A child carried on their guardian’s shoulders was pointing at the guild, proclaiming loudly how they’d be a great hero when they grew up, just like Starblade Lumia. The nem was still waiting patiently. An older man lit up a pipe, smoking as he struck up a conversation with a bushy-tailed youth who’d just emerged from of the guild.

Eustace was almost at the entrance, and the nem was still waiting. It was partly because his gaze flitted so often to that small figure, wondering who they were waiting on, that he finally recognized her. [color=fef580]“Soru–Raven?”[/color] he called out. [color=fef580]“It is you, isn’t it?”[/color] It was difficult to tell with the Nem, as covered up as they usually were. [color=fef580]“Come on!”[/color] He beckoned to her. [color=fef580]“Whoever you’re waiting for, no need to stand out here, hm? Join me if you like,”[/color] he invited her to cut into the line where he was. 

He’d met Soruha two years ago, when they’d both happened to be signing on as adventurers. He’d paired up with her for their first mission, and since then, they’d been in parties every once in a while. The Nem was a quiet one, and Eustace still hadn’t figured if she disliked speaking, if she [i]liked[/i] people having to closely pay attention to her if they wanted to hear her, or if there was another reason for her soft-spoken demeanor. Either way, he got along with her well enough.

[color=fef580]“Lively as always,”[/color] he smiled softly upon entering the guild’s premises. He liked the energy here, but more so as a place to visit rather than one to live in. The job board acted much like a flytrap, scores of adventurers glued to its side. Just as many were seated at the tables, or at the bar. He recognized Alan the Hawk signing up for a job with his party, and naturally, one couldn’t miss the resident lamia. Seems she’d found herself an interesting newcomer – a dark elf he [i]really[/i] hoped he’d get to talk to when she wasn't being hogged by a possessive snake. A fiercely scowling girl was glaring death at someone’s back, and he wondered if he’d just missed a fight or if one was about to happen.

And then, there was–

[color=fef580]“Renard!”[/color] He exclaimed, perking up with all the joy and energy of a puppy urging its owner for a walk. Eustace bounded up to the man, sparkly-eyed and grinning, hand raised in a wave. [color=fef580]“Hello! How have you been? Are you just back from a mission?”[/color] He shot off, words tumbling from his mouth. [color=fef580]“Oh, um, this is…”[/color] he just remembered the nem, and only now did he turn his head to check if she’d followed him.[/color]