Shadows Bane: Foundation
Part Two
Slate was excited for today becoming an Adventurer knowing that he will be finally free from studying at school. His big sister Natasha thought that would be the best way for him to learn how to be a Favinonian, but in his heart of hearts, he is still one with the Mountain.
As to his nature, even though mother nature itself doesn’t exist in Favinonia City, State wakes up with the dawn. As there is no need to find new wood for the fire or even hunt breakfast, Slate doesn’t have much to do this morning.
Heading down to the foyer, he spies the owner of the inn Natasha and Slate are staying at. Looking up from his notes as he hears the creaking of the wooden planks of the stairs due to Slate’s size.
“Good Sir, what can I help you at this hour?” Jonas Cuvar asks, his voice has a hidden catch in it as Slate knows it was from fear.
Inwardly sighing at being called a Sir, Slate steps in front of the inn’s owner. Putting on a smile as he found humans become less fearful of his noticeable size and strength. Being one of the Folks of the Mountain, or Gakk’en in his language, it was normal for people to cower in fear.
Lightening his voice as it can be quite intense, Slate answers. “Oh nothing, just waking up early and wondering when breakfast will be served?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jonas, with a little hitch in his voice. “I will ask my wife to rustle up some for you and your…”
Shaking his head, Slate supplies. “Sister, and before you ask, I am adopted.”
“Um, ah, that was not my meaning, Sir.” With a small whiff, Slate could tell that Jonas peed himself a little.
Nodding and ignoring the palatable fear in the man’s scent. “Have that made I will be down with my sister.”
Maybe it was the eight-foot bow he had on his back when he walked in yesterday or even the colossal stone hammer he held easily held in his large hand. Slate will never relinquish those two weapons as they are his only connection to his people.
He owed everything to Natasha, if it wasn’t for her, he would have died after surviving
the landslide and being incarcerated. As Slate walks towards the stairs, a gruff voice calls from behind. “Look at that, a walking statue. Jara’s balls you are huge, rock boy.”
Just ignore him, not the first or last time you have been thought as part rock
Slate lectures himself.
“What are you too good to talk to me, bah!” All Slate could hear as he walked up to the third floor to wake Natasha up.
Little did he know that that loudmouth had friends and having a peaceful breakfast seemed not to be on the table for Slate and Natasha.
