Twystyd88
CDT0925Darunia
Pacing himself, Darunia slowly approached the gates of Frontier Town. He took a deep breath as he crossed his arms, eyeing up the gate before taking any further steps. Coming here had been a long, treacherous, and dangerous journey. In fact, it wasn't until the other day that he had decided to settle somewhere more permanent. He'd heard that humans often leave home at a young age, and an exceptional bunch would even avoid settling until long after their time had passed. The longevity of his kin was a very strange inversion, however. He was sure that he'd outlived several others, and had concluded that he'd spent as much time wandering as it had taken for a human to be born, start a family, and perish. For several weeks, Darunia had thought about what it had meant to live a successful life. Was success measured in how rich you were when your time came? Was it measured in sheer strength? Perhaps, even, it was measured in avoiding death entirely...
He concluded that each person had their own qualifier for success, something that gives them joy when it is acquired. He'd met several people on his travels, and all of them seemed to derive pleasure from different things. He'd made friends with a gnome a long time ago who enjoyed stealing things, and he'd met a bunch of orcs who really seemed to have fun kicking in the ribs of Drow. Darunia, himself, had concluded that he had a passion for sneaking around and discovering things. He had a tendency to pry where he shouldn't, something that had gotten him in trouble quite a long time ago. A fist formed in his hand as he thought back to that fateful day. He would return one day when he had the means to crush that disgusting wench and her lackeys... He was just biding his time. Really. Revenge was the second item on his To-Do List. Before he could enact revenge on anyone or anything, he needed tools to help him achieve this goal.
Tools are extensions of the person, and are needed to accomplish goals that one cannot achieve alone. This was one of the few lessons that remained in his head after he was cast out of the Drow society. Anything that he could get his hands on would be useful to him in one way or another. Weapons are useful for cutting lives shorter, and faster. Gold is useful for greasing palms and convincing even the most immovable warriors to raise a blade for him. It was also, obviously, useful in ensuring he gets a warm place to sleep, transportation, food, armor... Darunia blinked twice in mild surprise. He'd never really considered just how useful gold was beyond transportation and food. Opening his bag, he counted out all 15 of the GP he had managed to hang onto since he had arrived here. Its shiny face was almost breathtaking to the young Drow, but he knew he'd need a lot more if he wanted to get anywhere.
Spending such a long time on the road wasn't getting him any closer to his goal, he had realized a long time ago. He needed... something. Anything. His little possessions were goods he had stolen a long time ago, sent into exile with naught but the clothes on his back. He needed to capitalize on his abilities, as he had nothing. His first order of business would be to procure a weapon of some sort. A tool that would carry him much farther in the city with than without. From there, he could figure out where to go, but before he would even consider heading anywhere, he would have to acquire some form of security. Darunia swung his fists in front of him, clapping his hands when they met at their apex. For the first time in at least 50 years, Darunia had come up with a plan, and a way to change his life. With a drawn-out deep breath, Darunia slowly walked towards the entrance, steeling himself for whatever hardships may wait ahead.
