Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: hhhmmm....where do I live?...I cant remember!
Two Days Prior
Jachen Meinhard trudged down an old dirt road, a great determination in his gait. His eyes, and most of the upper portion of his face were covered by the brimmed hat he wore, which he held on his head with his left hand, as the speed at which he was walking and the the amount the wind that was blowing would make it fly off, other words.
In his right hand was a thick shafted rod, or staff, taller than himself, considering he himself was rather tall; and of unique beauty. Normally as he walked he'd use it in the same fashion as a walking staff, but as he was in a hurry he held it to his side horizontally. Jachen hummed to himself as he tramped along.
'It's been awhile since I last spoke German, guess I should refresh my memory before I get there,' Jachen reminded himself, still humming his tune.
"Wie geht," he began in German. "Keine," he mumbled to himself as he went along.
'It was right, but still not good enough,' he thought to himself in chastisement.
"Da suchen schön," he continued, but he only sighed and shook his head. 'The girls would kill me if I said it like that.'
But as he traveled on he continued to reteach himself German, and continually he rebuked himself.
Jachen stood looking at his surroundings as he admired the great city he once lived in, he observed the houses, cathedrals and other various buildings. They were all such old memories being relived to him, and yet they seemed oh so new, as if they were entirely new wonders to him. It had been a great deal of time since he'd been in Leipzig, and while it seemed the same, it was in fact quite different from what he remembered, but all things in memory are different than what people originally perceive, or so Jachen believed.
He took a deep breath and turning on a dime, went at a rigorous pace down the street, his long hair billowing and furling behind him like a cape. He hadn't been to the Rasengarten in a long while, and he wasn't sure if he could find the way, especially with how the layout of the city must have changed while he was gone. But after turning a couple corners, and looking at a couple shop signs, he found himself looking at the sign of a very familiar place. A smile spread across his seemingly stone face.
With another deep breath and a sigh that contained both weariness and excitement, Jachen entered the old establishment. He looked around, finding the owner almost immediately he approached him with a disarming smile.
"Verzeihung," he spoke in almost perfect German. The man turned and looked at him, and to his keen eyes the man seemed to be in high spirits. "How much is room and board?" He asked, the man smiled, and replied almost too cheerily, "from this day forward, ten pfennigs."
Jachen's brow furrowed as he thought of this, he only had sixteen pfennigs, the rest of his money was foreign. "It used to be eight pfennigs, what happened?" He asked curiously.
"I had a-a, um, revelation, my inn is a place of...of..." but Jachen cut him off. "What is that in your hand my friend?" He interrupted, not wanting to hear the man's stuttering dreams of grandeur any more than he had to.
"Why it's a wonderful picture this fellow drew for me, it's beautiful, it's the reason I've decided to raise the price," he told Jachen, showing him the picture. Jachen's eyes half closed with annoyed realization as he almost immediately knew who drew the picture.
"My good sir, do you not give discounts to men of the clergy, for you see I am tired and sore, and have little in the way of money to pay for a room, won't you help me out?" He asked the man in a very convincing manner, as he leaned wearily on his Icon. From all appearances he seemed like a poor man of the cloth, his clothes were caked with dirt, as well as his Holy Icon, his face oily and his hat soggy, this was all due to almost nonstop travel for two days. Jachen even coughed, though most would see this as a ploy, if Jachen were the kind of guy to be sneaky and deceitful, but he wasn't, he was an honest man, and one of the few priests you would find that weren't corrupt or underhanded.
A look of pity came upon the owner's face as he looked upon Jachen, "my good priest, you are welcome at the inn for free, here's a key, go and rest my good man."
"No, I must pay something, here, six pfennigs," Jachen said, taking the keys to the room, and almost forcing the money into the man's hand. Before he could say anything further Jachen was up the stairs to his room.
When Jachen got in the room he threw most of his things on the bed, and sat down on a chair to get a breather. A few minutes later he emerged from the room, his face clean, though he still appeared a bit tired, and his clothes were still just as dirty as before. His stuff, including his Holy Icon, was left in his room, the only thing he carried was a sack of unknown items.
He entered the common room of the inn and began walking slowly, observing people from under his round brimmed hat, his eyes hidden from view. His eyes settled on two fellows sitting at a rather large table. He could make out their conversation.
"So long as my work can earn me the things I need for survival, I care little for what happens to it when I am gone."
"And you? Still hunting, I guess?" He heard one man say.
He approached them, walking up behind the man speaking. Jachen leaned over, the man totally oblivious to his existence as he got right up next to the man's ear.
'"And I guess you're survival includes weaseling your way out of things and making sure others suffer for it, right Christoph?"' he whispered into his ear.
((Sorry for the weird German phrases, don't worry about them, I'll put a key at the bottom of this post later. Though I'm not sure if they're entirely correct myself.))
"But in you...I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will..."
"You are beautiful to me, exile. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."
"But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force..."
"I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you...You are more precious than you know..."-now...it's verbatim!-A quote from Darth Traya (Kreia)