Baraccus Collamore, aspiring mage. A mind like a tack; a tongue of honey.
The soles of his worn slippers shuffled through the dirt oblivious to the looming towers of Stormwind that couldn't be too far off now. The human capital had been his goal from the start of his long trek. Since he had left his home (the gray-haired teen would only call it his "house," because home is where the heart is, and his heart was nowhere near there).
A long way from home and happy to be there. Bartering the few trinkets and goods he had to feed and shelter himself along the way, Bara had learned a lot about people outside of where he grew up, and how the world worked, when you are your only boss; he loved it. Most of his encounters were neutral, sometimes even pleasant.
People were more apt to help when approached in a civilized adult manner, rather than the begging and sniveling they usually heard from other child solider hopefuls and loaners like himself.
He left his "camp", which consisted of his long coat covering him on the downwind side of a large tree, just outside of Redridge. The day seemed brighter than it probably was.
At the sight of a Stormwind guard, his enduring mindset and pace became determined once again. The guard gave him a quick glance and a slight nod as a good morning. Baraccus returned the nod with a little disappointment. He wanted to shake the man's hand and thank him for the wonderful day that the gaurd had started. But the mage knew that it would be inappropriate and he would probably get stabbed for trying to touch him.
Everything felt better, his woolen purple robe was brighter and softer then it had ever been. The air was sweeter, the sun was warmer. Most would say that it was all in his head, and that all of those things were his imagination. Baraccus would agree and smugly reply, "Everything is in our heads; no one thinks with their feet."
"Morning young man." A taller guard said loudly from the opposite side of a small bridge Bara was just stepping onto.
"Good morning, Sir. How are you?" the mage said in his normal "I-think-like-an-adult-so-treat-me-like-one" voice.
As he came to the end of the bridge the guard, who seemed to be of a slightly higher rank than the first by his demeanor, stepped toward him."What brings someone of your age out so far into the forest?" he asked casually.
Baraccus pulled his pack higher on his back and replied, "I am on my way to Stormwind, to see Archmage Malin. I am going to see if he will train me."
"I'll give it to ya, son. You don't look like much, but you got the heart of a mage. The manhood of one, too, if you're going straight to Malin."
He said this with a big smile and a small chuckle. "He isn't too accepting of someone of your stature coming straight to him." The guard took a breath and thought for a second "Normally I wouldn't give a boar's behind about someone so young, especially a mage. But I like you. Word of advice, talk to General Marcus Jonathan. He'll probably be just inside the city gates. Get registered through him, go through basics, and work your way to Malin."
He expected this response. However, it was unacceptable. Baraccus Collamore was a mage, a soon to be damn good one. Going trough the proper channels was a waste of time, and he didn't waste time. He was a straight shooter and had the intelligence to back up his high hopes.
"I appreciate your advice, Sir," he replied sincerely. "But I can't waste my time with that. I've waited my life for this opportunity. Basics won't teach me anything about life, the war, or anything else children my age need to know."
He would now get one of two responses: one, the man would harrumph and tell him that he was too big for his britches, and he wasn't going to waste his time anymore.
Or, he would become outright rude, and call him a snot-nosed brat and wish something horrible on him.
The first good, no, cherished moment in this young mage's life reached out to him. The guard's outstretched hand hung in the air a moment before the boy realized what he was doing. He shook the man's hand and a small sense of pride washed into him to join the puzzlement that was already there.
"Good to meet you, Mister...?" the guard lingered.
"Collamore, Baraccus Collamore," Baraccus replied with more enthusiasm then he had intended.
"...Collamore," the guard finished. "I wish you luck, young one. We need more people with that attitude." He ended with a nod and let go.
"Thank you," was all he could say. A warm tingle in his gut was rising, and it was a good feeling. With a final nod, Baraccus turned down the road toward Stormwind with a new sense of confidence and reassurance he had been lacking for a long time.
