History of the Laurian Race
It was a day just like any other in the neighbourhood. A handful of regulars were up to their usual shenanigans at the Rabbit Hole Inn, a small establishment between the boroughs of Unpleasant Grove and Hardwood. It was a diverse little pocket with relatively few human inhabitants compared to the rest of the state.
Consequently, when what appeared to be a young human girl (although with an ethereal air about her) confidently approached the bar and climbed atop a stool the regulars were surprised, a little confused even.
“Hey there little thing, what are you doing in a place like this?” Asked the bartender, with a friendly expression.
The girl looked frustrated, and pulled a portfolio out of her purse before producing a card and handing it to the barkeep.
He accepted the card1 and held it up to the light, shifted it around a bit. The barkeep’s expression quickly cycled through skepticism, surprise, and delight. With a respectful flourish he offered the card back to the young woman.
“I’ll be damned,” he said “I never thought I’d meet a Laurian in the flesh.”
A few of the others who weren’t already sitting at the bar approached the small creature forming something of a semicircle.
One of them spoke up, “what’s a Laurian anyways; you mean to tell me this little lass is old enough to drink?”
“Aye,” the barkeep said. “She’s older than me.”
The small crowd grew more and more fascinated.
The same curious lad approached her directly, “so where do your people come from anyways?”
“Not one for delicacy or subtlety, eh,” the barkeep said
The girl was obviously growing more and more irritated by the moment, having stopped in for a quiet drink only to be mobbed by curious onlookers. The bartender felt for her, but decided to wait a little longer before intervening.
There was only a beat of silence before the old young lady spoke up, but the tension was palpable.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, I’m dying of curiosity!”
“Very well, then. Shut up and listen”
The small creature began to narrate:
A long long time ago, in a land far away, on an island nation that existed far outside of the Great Continent’s sphere of influence there was a talented young mage known as Carolus. He dedicated himself single-mindedly to the pursuit of the arcane arts and cared little for almost anything else.
Almost anything, except for his beloved friend Laura. Often they would go rowing together, him, Laura, and her sisters. During these excursions nothing else mattered to him except for his beloved Laura. They’d row, and they’d row, and they’d row, until the girls had to return to their family and he had to return to his studies.
These excursions continued at regular intervals for years until one day rumours began to surface, that Carolus was pining for one of Laura’s sisters. Consequently, the elders of the family decided that they could no longer allow him to associate with the daughters.
After this, Carolus grew more and more insular, with nothing left in his life except for his academic pursuits. Ultimately he achieved such power that he became the leader of the island, known to his subjects as Carolus Rex.
Many decades had passed and the king was aware that he was approaching the end of his life and had no interest in prolonging it. At this point he was unable to dismiss his curiousity about his old playmates, so he descended from his station and went to go find look for them.
The elders of Laura’s family had died, the sisters had gone away to another place, and Laura herself had settled down and married. He longed to see her, and approached her home, but what he saw through the windows terrified him.
The beloved girl from his youth was a girl no more; she had become something more heinous, and offensive to the senses.
Carolus could not bring himself to approach them or enter their home, he pronounced a simple curse and left. That none of Laura’s children should ever grow old.
“And here we are. Look at me,” she concluded.
As she asked, the regulars had kept their mouths shut and listened. However one tactless fellow, a serpentile gentleman with the scales of a drake burst out as soon as she’d finished:
“Wow that’s crazy, what are you doing after this?”
Footnotes
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It was more of a thin adventurescent slab of mineral than it was a card, they really don’t make ‘em like they used to. ↩