zacheus aleyne. (nocking) wrote in emillion, |
Since he had come to Emillion, Sapa'akiau Kealumunkili -- or Bastian Kelmendir, as he always reminded himself before introductions -- had found the Fighters' Guild very welcoming and accommodating, to be sure. Still, he had not made many friends as yet, and though he was glad to be out on his own doing what he felt was right, he missed the companionship of his brothers in the Order. He'd mostly kept to himself in training, especially since an attempt at being friendly with one of the Holy Knights at Bierfest had turned into a much too forward display of inebriated… friendliness. He did not know Zacheus Aleyne very well yet, though he had seen him practicing a few times at the guildhall. The invitation to the archer's birthday party had therefore come as a surprise, and Bastian was very flattered -- as he didn't know enough people to have deduced that in fact the entire guild had been invited. In blissful ignorance, he felt special. Perhaps Aleyne has noticed my talents and feels me a valuable warrior, he thought, as he made his way finally toward the Drunken Bard. (He was late. He had gotten lost. He hoped Aleyne would not find his tardiness rude.) Once the mortification of stumbling into a surprise party subsided, it was easy to coax Zacheus into having a good time. It only took one or four beers for him to thaw out and greet his friends and guildmates with more than a gruff hello. He was uncomfortable and awkward in the spotlight, unaccustomed to being the center of attention, but he dutifully made the rounds, accepting drinks from familiar faces and strangers alike. Zacheus needed the liquid courage if he was going to make it through the night; the more he drank, the more the urge to retreat to the corner waned. The archer was in the midst of thanking a group of Rangers for yet another tankard of ale (was this his fifth or sixth?) when he spotted an unfamiliar face near the entrance. Zacheus wasn’t the most social creature in the Fighters Guild, but he was good at recognizing faces and this man didn’t ring a bell at all. It was the sort of face you remembered, after all. Was he one of Lille’s friends? (Faram, he hoped not. He would sorely regret any kindly thoughts about the man’s face.) “Er, hello,” he said in a low voice, giving the other man a curious look. “I don’t believe we’ve met…?” It wasn’t the most gracious meeting, but plying the archer with alcohol was a double-edged sword: it loosened him up at the cost of proper social etiquette. "Hello!" Bastian said, though his face promptly fell at the sentence which followed the greeting. He crossed his arms over his broad, bare chest (he was wearing a vest with nothing underneath it, because this was a formal occasion) and frowned. "I am so sorry. I am called Bastian Kelmendir. I am being new to the Fighters' Guild." Blushing, Bastian eyed the door and assessed the quickest exit route. "I believed I was being invited to your celebration, but perhaps there has been a mistake. If I was receiving the invitation in error, I apologize. I could… leave?" He was not sure of the etiquette. "A very happy congratulations on your birthday to you, in any case." Zacheus stared blankly at the newcomer for a moment, his brows knit in concern as he tried to make sense of the situation. Why was he apologizing and offering to leave? It took a moment for the misunderstanding to pierce the alcohol-induced fog in his mind. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t send out the invitations, my friend Ric—er, Korporal Cassul did that. I didn’t even know there was going to be a party. But you’re more than welcome to stay.” There was a beat before he added: “Thank you! Sorry.” A sheepish smile spread across his face. “You’ll have to forgive my manners, I’ve had quite a bit to drink tonight.” |