Author: Edune, Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2020 7:29 PM, Post Subject: Lost and Found [O]

The sunrise reflected off of the massive lake, turning the water's surface from a deep, dark blue to a glowing orange as it peaked between the island's mountains and revealed the first strands of the light of day to Benin. An island within an island, the capital city was unique and ancient, certainly a spot anyone who was touring Onnen might want to visit. A beam of morning sunlight slanted its way into the top floor of an inn, through a window that had its shabby wooden shutters cracked rather widely open. The light warmed the face of a still-sleeping man, his sweaty hair laying in a tangled heap across his eyes, and the sheets laying in a twisted pool around his ankles. As the man snored, the morning grew a little later, though he was oblivious to the hour, among many other things.

Below the open window a sign hung over the streets, made of thick oak. On it was painted an ornate yellow pot of sorts, and the text below the picture declared the inn as the Brass Bowl. A breeze blew down the paved street, strong enough that the sign swayed with it, causing the rusting chains holding it to creak noisily. Above, the man snorted mid-snore at the sound and groggily began to come to his senses once more. 

Blue eyes still bleary and caked with sleep, Edune sat up in bed, a frown fixed upon his confused, sweaty face. The mage leaned over and clumsily fell out of his bed with a loud thump, his feet still tangled in the cotton sheets. Staggering to his feet as he kicked off the sheets and left them half strewn between bed and floor, he stumbled towards the wash basin on his night stand. After splashing a few handfuls of water across his face and in his crusted eyes, Edune shook himself more fully awake, though he felt anything but alert. The room spun suddenly and he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor near the nightstand. Gripping the nightstand, he hauled himself back up, away from the foul puddle he'd left on the floor.

His blurry vision subsided as his eyes focused on the half-melted candle on the nightstand next to the basin. Just where the hell was he, anyways? The mage coughed dryly, realizing his thirst and noting that he must have been asleep for some time. A small hand mirror was laid near the basin, and he lifted it to see himself. He fumbled the mirror in surprise as someone hardly recognizable sleepily stared back at him. He rubbed his eyes once more and peered at his reflection. When had his hair grown so long? Certainly he had gone to sleep with a clean, short cut- but he saw long lockes of hair that fell down to his jawline. Was he imagining it, or were the lines on his face a little deeper as well? And, again, where was he, even? 

The mage splashed some water across his bare torso and some more onto his face, washing away the sweat as he emptied the dish of liquid. He donned his shabby robes as he began to take note of the room around him, attempting to orient himself yet again. In the corner nearest to the bed, his Irian Mage's Staff was propped up. That meant he had not lost perhaps his most valuable possession. Looking around, he noted that his travel-won cloak was tossed carelessly across the room, and his boots were strewn on the floor in a manner that suggested he had lazily flung them from and with his own feet before climbing into bed. However, he did not remember going to bed. Or getting here, wherever here was. He pondered his lack of memory as he slid on his boots and stuffed his cloak into his bag- it was much too hot to wear it- before grabbing his staff and exiting the room. 

Entering the hallway, Edune realized he was on the top floor of some tavern or inn, with several doors, presumably other rooms, being immediately visible. He went left to find a flight of stairs that took him down to the first floor. Voices carried through the common room, a decent crowd of patrons noisily talking amongst themselves as they took their ale and breakfast. The mage stood at the base of the staircase, looking around until he spotted a serving wench pouring ale at a table, and made his way to her hastily, managing not to trip over his own feet despite still feeling rather woozy. 

"Excuse me, miss-" He started, but the wench walked straight past him to a table, pouring them some ale from a jug. The mage sighed and slid into a wobbly chair at the closest empty table. "Ale, please!" He said loudly, to get her attention. The wench, a plain-looking woman of perhaps forty, glanced his way and walked over to the bar to grab a mug. When she approached his table, the mage dug awkwardly through his bag until he found, thankfully, that he had not been parted from his coins, and left the wench a silver. As she went to take it, he blocked her hand by covering the coin with his own. 

"If you don't mind, where do I find myself this morning?" He asked. The woman frowned at him, no doubt wondering if he played at some game.

"The Brass Bowl, of course." She replied, irritation clear in her voice as he hand hovered above his own.

That told him absolutely nothing. "What town?" He inquired quickly.

A frown deepened on the wench's face. "Benin, of course." 

Great. Somewhere he'd never heard of. "Ah, what country is Benin in, again?" He asked almost too politely. The wench rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her annoyance now. Edune rose his hand a bit and dropped a silver on top of the first, the clink of coin loud enough for her to hear and look down as his hand retreated from the table.

"Fulani, of course, the most beautiful country in Onnen." She replied, suddenly more amicable as she took the coin and the extra. Edune nodded and thanked her, trying not to let his extreme confusion show. He took a sip from the mug of the dark, frothy ale she'd brought him as she left. It was cold, and not too bitter. His stomach churned a little, but he felt better, more alert. It wasn't long before he'd ordered another mug and a half-loaf of bread to settle his stomach. 

He'd never actually been to Onnen, and had no idea what or where Benin was. That, and his hair- just how much time had he lost? Had someone taken his memories? Had he been poisoned, or cursed? Edune mulled over his situation as he ate the warm bread and sipped at the cool ale. Something had happened to him, that much was certain, and it wasn't good. What had he lost, and why?