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Darius Ref clothed
by Vordus
big silver
a year ago
A seemingly small character, that has no name and got used in art twice, emerges again. This time as a full fledged one. I want to present Darius, a small kobold. I made something up for lore and world building reasons.
The sun is setting. A hooded figure looks towards the snowy horizon. Its every exhale creates a mist. A large bell rings when it pulls on a rope, echoing through the area not once, but a few times. A few moments later the rope gets pulled again and the mechanism holding the gears gets set in motion to let another, smaller bell toll. The evenings silence gets broken by a steady dance of these two bells, taking turns in order, then in reverse. Sometimes only one rings, sometimes both at once. It echoes through the valley and lets everybody know that it is time. Underneath the tower, inside a chapel a circle forms. A few hooded figures hold candles low. Someone smaller holds a lit one, going around to ignite them all, one after another. As soon as the flame is received, its newfound holder steps aside to either the western or eastern wall to mount the candle onto it, then sits down at the wall-most seat in each row. There aren't many rows. A red carpet splits their middle, forming a passage from the back to the front. The last two will not sit down, but walk behind the innermost seats of the last row. The first flame, after being shared around among each member, gets returned to the back of the building. There the smaller figure walks up a circular staircase to get to the second floor and places the candle carefully onto its stand next to a lectern. "You did well" a raspy, elderly voice says. They then reach forward to open a tome, bound in leather. "Take a seat", they say and a small silver snout, poking out of its hoods front nods, says "Thank you, father" and steps back to take a seat behind to them.
The bells stop ringing and the man lifts an arm. With his palm up, he gestures towards the two furthest members to open the old, wooden double doors and to welcome the others. Various beings, mostly humans, enter the stone chapel that is lit in warm candle light. Quiet whispers fill the air, as well as the last faintest echo of the bells that came back from the mountain. While they all walk in and take a seat, the bell ringer emerges from another set of circular stairs to take a seat on the second floor right next to the smaller one, nodding towards them. The answer is a simple nod back, both knowing what is meant as well as what will come, looking forward to it. Half of the seats are quickly occupied and one can see various kinds of folks, some bearing different kinds of equipment. Big and small, broad and thin, around a dozen adventurers sit between a dozen villagers, both parties here for the same thing. A gesture from the spokesman and the creaking doors close. "Welcome", he says, "You all came here, as our doors are open to accept everyone, newcomers as well as frequent visitors alike". He spreads his arms and continues "Please, let us cherish this moment of company in our walls of stone. And if anybody has anything that concerns or worries them, our priests and clerics will take care of that". He then starts with a simple prayer, blessing the day and speaks some kind words. Darkness enshrouds the outside as the night spreads. Lights from the village houses lit the streets very dimly. Truly, it is a remote place. One that doesn't see many visitors. But from time to time they arrive. Be it travelling merchants, that gladly exchange some grains or vegetables for some beverages or candles that the chapel produces, or some adventurers, stopping by to stock up on supplies and to take a rest. Word has spread, that the clerics here can heal wounds and restore ones strength. The frequency of visitors is regulated by the harsh weather of the valley, whose snowy nature makes it fairly remote.
Once the small ceremony is over, the spokesman steps aside and the bell ringer announces with a gentle, feminine voice. "The ones that need any sort of treatment should come forth. In the back of our humble abode you will receive help", she says and points towards a door underneath the second floor's podium. It leads to a room as big as this room full of seats, but containing a few beds and chairs. "Those who aren't in need of treatment are invited to have a meal, along with any beverage that is in stock", she says and gestures to the right, towards a small building visible through the windows. It is a small canteen. She then looks down at the visitors and says calmly "You are not required to donate, but if you would like to, you can always do so in the treatment room. We value any rations of food or even herbs that you have to spare. This will help us provide meals and treatment to the ones that need it". After a moment the crowd gets up and splits. She then steps aside and turns to the small silver snout, asking "Would you like to help in the canteen, or to tend to some injured?". The smaller being looks up. With a grin it says "To treat some injured". "Very well, I will help in the canteen then. I will see you later, Darius". With another nod the kobold jumps down from the seat and quickly descends the stairs. His steps are accompanied by the clacking sound of claws on stone as he vanishes in the other room.
The sun is setting. A hooded figure looks towards the snowy horizon. Its every exhale creates a mist. A large bell rings when it pulls on a rope, echoing through the area not once, but a few times. A few moments later the rope gets pulled again and the mechanism holding the gears gets set in motion to let another, smaller bell toll. The evenings silence gets broken by a steady dance of these two bells, taking turns in order, then in reverse. Sometimes only one rings, sometimes both at once. It echoes through the valley and lets everybody know that it is time. Underneath the tower, inside a chapel a circle forms. A few hooded figures hold candles low. Someone smaller holds a lit one, going around to ignite them all, one after another. As soon as the flame is received, its newfound holder steps aside to either the western or eastern wall to mount the candle onto it, then sits down at the wall-most seat in each row. There aren't many rows. A red carpet splits their middle, forming a passage from the back to the front. The last two will not sit down, but walk behind the innermost seats of the last row. The first flame, after being shared around among each member, gets returned to the back of the building. There the smaller figure walks up a circular staircase to get to the second floor and places the candle carefully onto its stand next to a lectern. "You did well" a raspy, elderly voice says. They then reach forward to open a tome, bound in leather. "Take a seat", they say and a small silver snout, poking out of its hoods front nods, says "Thank you, father" and steps back to take a seat behind to them.
The bells stop ringing and the man lifts an arm. With his palm up, he gestures towards the two furthest members to open the old, wooden double doors and to welcome the others. Various beings, mostly humans, enter the stone chapel that is lit in warm candle light. Quiet whispers fill the air, as well as the last faintest echo of the bells that came back from the mountain. While they all walk in and take a seat, the bell ringer emerges from another set of circular stairs to take a seat on the second floor right next to the smaller one, nodding towards them. The answer is a simple nod back, both knowing what is meant as well as what will come, looking forward to it. Half of the seats are quickly occupied and one can see various kinds of folks, some bearing different kinds of equipment. Big and small, broad and thin, around a dozen adventurers sit between a dozen villagers, both parties here for the same thing. A gesture from the spokesman and the creaking doors close. "Welcome", he says, "You all came here, as our doors are open to accept everyone, newcomers as well as frequent visitors alike". He spreads his arms and continues "Please, let us cherish this moment of company in our walls of stone. And if anybody has anything that concerns or worries them, our priests and clerics will take care of that". He then starts with a simple prayer, blessing the day and speaks some kind words. Darkness enshrouds the outside as the night spreads. Lights from the village houses lit the streets very dimly. Truly, it is a remote place. One that doesn't see many visitors. But from time to time they arrive. Be it travelling merchants, that gladly exchange some grains or vegetables for some beverages or candles that the chapel produces, or some adventurers, stopping by to stock up on supplies and to take a rest. Word has spread, that the clerics here can heal wounds and restore ones strength. The frequency of visitors is regulated by the harsh weather of the valley, whose snowy nature makes it fairly remote.
Once the small ceremony is over, the spokesman steps aside and the bell ringer announces with a gentle, feminine voice. "The ones that need any sort of treatment should come forth. In the back of our humble abode you will receive help", she says and points towards a door underneath the second floor's podium. It leads to a room as big as this room full of seats, but containing a few beds and chairs. "Those who aren't in need of treatment are invited to have a meal, along with any beverage that is in stock", she says and gestures to the right, towards a small building visible through the windows. It is a small canteen. She then looks down at the visitors and says calmly "You are not required to donate, but if you would like to, you can always do so in the treatment room. We value any rations of food or even herbs that you have to spare. This will help us provide meals and treatment to the ones that need it". After a moment the crowd gets up and splits. She then steps aside and turns to the small silver snout, asking "Would you like to help in the canteen, or to tend to some injured?". The smaller being looks up. With a grin it says "To treat some injured". "Very well, I will help in the canteen then. I will see you later, Darius". With another nod the kobold jumps down from the seat and quickly descends the stairs. His steps are accompanied by the clacking sound of claws on stone as he vanishes in the other room.
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Artwork (Digital)
Fantasy
Kobold
1920 x 1214
1.79 MB
