Diaman's DnD Diary

re:live:Chapter 1

A bit different universe after the timeline was reset (our DnD has been running for a long while), in this life, Damian managed to forgive himself for the death of his brother and best friend and chose the druid path.

It was a rather calm evening and I found myself in a smaller tavern at the crossroads of one of the traders' post by the North Sea. The air outside was damp and heavy and the wet rain drops kept hitting the window next to my table. I was in a rather good mood, the dinner was filling and a hot fish soup followed by a big bowl of vegetable stew hit the spot. I had a room reserved upstairs as well, so watching the rainy blackness outside didn't bother me either.

My eyes were drawn to the dark trees of the forest behind the tavern, swinging in the merciless wind, so with my lips on the mead cup I was quite startled when a person sat to my table across from me with a knowing smile and quite jovially greeted me.

"Long time no see!" said the dark eyed man. I've never seen him before, but I knew who he was... or better to say, we met once before and he looked like a totally different person, or maybe even was a different person but it was him, all the same. Also, to say I knew who he was would be a lie, too. I didn't know anything about him. Who he is, where he came from, what he actually wanted from me. All I knew was, he sat his eyes on screwing me over. Probably. Sometime later.

This time, his skin was darker, his hair dark brown and short. He was tall and slender, but well built, his shoulders were wide and the long sleeves of his high class brocade camisole probably hid some lean and strong arms. He wore an earring in his right ear with a scarlet blood-like gem gently dangling from it in a silver lining and there was also a thick black gem wedged in a golden ring on his right hand. A thin mustache framed a perfectly handsome smile adorned from downstairs by a strictly cut goatee.

I couldn't really pull myself together at wondering - not who he is - but rather, how do I KNOW this guy is the same one I met before.

"You... look like a different person." No better way than to address the elephant in the room directly.

The stranger before me smirked. "But YOU look the same."

It was obvious for me what he was hinting at.

"Your scar didn't age a day..." he was obviously addressing a very painful issue, yet his delighted smile twisted in quite a cute way.

"Some scars take longer to heal..." I muttered, resting my scarred right cheek on my right palm, to hide the full extend of it.

His deep eyes were studying me. They were both hot and cold, I could feel them, riding over every crevice of my face, every bright pink of the deep wave bruising my right eye, my nose and carving an almost down-facing tree on the right side of my face.

"Well... I saw you... what? 2 moons ago? It didn't heal a single second. Still half-fresh." He waited for my reaction a second or two but none came, so he continued: "And I presume, you lost sight in your right eye as well. You didn't see me arrive."

He was... completely right but I couldn't affirm his "probabilities" and "suspicions". I knew he came to make a deal like last time and this was basically him looking for ammunition for bargaining. Me admitting it all would mean me losing it all.

"That's because you never "arrive", you just appear," I countered and lifted my head back up to stare into his eyes but there was definitely no "intimidating" this guy.

He tilted his head and then his gaze trailed off to my leather bag. "I see you've stacked up for tomorrow. It is full moon afterall, I suppose there is a hoard of pain medicine and calming potions."