Die Writing

Ezra Haley

Posted in Ezra Haley by erdaron on July 10, 2011

Aside

Actually, a DnD character I wrote up a long time ago. Kind of rewriting from memory.

Such dice

It is a cheery morning drenched in bright sunlight, and there is a loud knock at the front door. Both the mother and the elderly maid move to get up, but the young boy is quicker.

“I’ll get it!” his voice rings, and his feet rush across the creaky old floors.

He grabs the heavy iron handle on the door with both hands, and puts his full weight into pulling it open. Sunlight pours through the doorway, silhouetting a dark figure.

“Ezra Haley?” asks the figure grimly. As the boy’s eyes adjust to the light, he can see a heavy black cape draped over the man’s shoulders. A wide-brimmed hat covers his head, set low over the eyes. Under the cape, the boy can make out thick straps and rivets of leather armor. Within the folds, the dull glimmer of heavy brass pommels of two swords, one at each hip. Everything on this man, including the rough skin on the face, looks worn and weathered.

“Yes… yes sir…” the boy answers unsteadily.

“This is for you, then.” The man hands the boy a small box wrapped in an old, oily rag. It’s heavy in the boy’s hands, and it smells of something old and terribly familiar. He weighs it carefully, feels its texture. Then the shock clears from his mind. The smells connects to a memory. The memory connects to a person, that connects to other memories and certain unresolved facts of the boy’s short life. A sequence of events snaps into shape in his head. He looks up at the stranger.

“Is this from my father?”

“Yes. On his passing.”

Presumed passing.”

“Not presumed, lad.” With that, the stranger turns around sharply and in one easy leap mounts his horse. Before galloping off, he gives the boy one brief look over the shoulder and slightly tips his hat.

Ezra turns around. His mother, pale as a sheet, is leaning on a stair railing, hand over her mouth, eyes red and welling up with tears. The maid rushes toward the boy, offers to take the box for safe-keeping, but he yanks it away from her. “It’s dad’s,” he says sternly to no one in particular.

Contents of the package.

A small wooden box, not three inches across, with a hinged lid and a spring-loaded latch. It’s made of stained fine-grain wood and features a simple relief of a castle on the top. A dragon hugs the sky above the castle. The box is quite old, and shows its age – there are scratches and dents on its edges.

Inside, wrapped in a piece of soft leather is a steel badge in the shape of a five-cornered star. Its dull gray surface also has lots of small dents and marks on it. The front side features the same castle as the wooden box, sans the dragon. The words “Serene Castle Officer of Justice” circle the castle.

On the reverse side, a short verse is etched into the metal.

Through ice and fire
Pursue without tire
A shoulder for the weak
A voice for the meek

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2 Responses

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  1. tasha said, on July 18, 2011 at 5:54 pm

    English teacher twitch: *meek

    I really like it, though. Especially the description of the box.

    • erdaron said, on July 19, 2011 at 2:29 am

      Bah! Thank you for pointing that out. And reading. And enjoying :).


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