Ch2: Falros of Ghallanda
In his youth Falros was never athletic. His body never matured to be that, and his parents shunned that behavior. For that, he also was never terribly popular. He never made the kind of friends that were in that clique. Any friends that he had were generally not accepted as well. He never let this bother him though, his parents taught him that everyone has a place in society and that his would be no less important or rewarding than others.
It was the “others” that were his problem though. As he grew, his body did not develop into that of the noble athletic heroes that were chanted about by bards. No, quite the opposite, he was rather short, and fairly scrawny. To this, other children in his community would often play tricks on him and prank him, leaving him the butt of many jokes. Many times, he would hear people whispering, often for them to be deadly quiet once he entered the room. These are the things that bothered him the most. His brothers and sisters, all would grow to be adventurers who would outshine him in every way.
He was a pure Half Elf and his family was proud to be counted back generations. His father was a shopkeep in Stormhome and his mother stayed at home with him and his other siblings. She taught them well in what she saw them becoming into. Tutors would help with anything that they could, and they had a wonderful life and he, a wonderful childhood.
So when Falros had finally come of age and he went to test with house Lyrandar, he immediately found that he was not prepared for life within the house. Such a blow to him came not as a curse, but he saw it as a blessing. He had worked in his father’s shop and tended the books. He was very focused on the minutia of his tasks and never felt as if things were wrong. “And why should they be?” he thought.
As it was prevalent that children who did not make it into the house often did not stay at home but went out into the world to make their name, Falros did not see that as his future. Instead, Falros went to the house of Ghallanda. Surely his skills could be better put to use in the house of hospitality, where the name of the game was money. After being accepted into the sub ranks of the house, Falros quickly worked his way up. His life was built on peace. His heart was in his work and it paid. It paid very well. As his status improved he was given more responsibility and with it, better pay.
Eventually, Falros was given the master clerk for the resort of Harthwaite in Stormhome. This was only below the owners of the resort, they were Halflings, and of course, were all too happy to see that a devoted Half Elf would be overseeing one of the largest resorts in Stormhome. They felt he added “authenticity”.
Under him, he had a myriad of employees of just as many races. His pride of station and pay helped his confidence in the world. His leadership style was one that people followed. His general aire invoke command. Something that he only saw from his brother Maugbane, who commanded forces for the house Lyrandar. Finally, he felt as if he mattered in this world, rather than just a person who traveled it.
On this high, Falros found that one of his employees, a Moogle by the name of Saoiltá, was having problems out of work, where her father had become ill. Saoiltá’s family was not rich, as were most of the employees that he had, but Falros’ heart could not bear the thought of losing family. Falros, himself had lost his father only a few years before to the war.
His memory and sorrow for his own loss, prompted him to help the young Moogle. He found a cleric who was willing to travel to the home to aid the ailing father, but also, he would help by providing some food for them. This prompted him to be in a store in mid Stormhome as a very fortuitous moment. While shopping, picking up bread for his donation he chanced upon a beautiful half elven woman. He was immediately enchanted by her beauty. The way she walked, she was obviously confident in herself, but also had a certain peace in her. Falros, who of course never grew up with love interests, immediately began fumbling for anything to say. As he shopped, he glanced over to her, totally unable to approach her. His heart beat wildly, but for what he was uncertain.
Eventually, he picked up the items he needed from the bakery, in his heart he was almost in pain. He had to say something. As he walked up to the shopkeep, to pay, he was completely deflated. He was shy, way too shy to be who he was. His eyes were to the floor as he walked up almost not paying attention to where he was or what was going on. when he felt someone completely crash into him. This shock woke him from his delirium and caused his eyes to focus on the cause of the commotion. Instantly he saw hers staring right back. Locked for what seemed to be an eternity, but far too short.
All he could say was “Hi.”