Quaestor

Eager as he was to return to his beloved, the allure of nostalgia soon claimed him, setting him adrift in the rolling hills and valleys on the outskirts of the floor. Wide green fields and pastures littered the landscape. It felt strangely like returning to the lands of an artificial youth - one thought forever lost to an oblivion of despair. Clouds floated overhead, casting shade like blotchy bad memories over the landscape. Like fate, they could not be avoided. The good and bad of his own fractured past caught up with him: early battles with boars, Tython's first epic costume fail, and

It took little time to find the fields that would produce what was required, but Quaestor was picky about his ingredients and always had been. Most ship cooks mashed together anything they found, much of it questionable, or else boiled it until all taste or hint of original identity was unrecognizable. He had always held himself to a higher standard and earned the love and loyalty of this shipmates for it. So had it been for his kin in their first forays into this magnificent, murderous cage. They'd held strong, even thrived in the early days of SAO, despite the chaos and uncertainty. Th

It took a while to find the right place. Quaestor's forays beyond the bounds of Angel's Point had been rather limited since the Madrigal's decline. Hours were lost to wandering the streets and plazas of the Town of Beginnings until he finally found his destination. "Oh, sure, this one opens with no trouble," he muttered under his breath as he entered the establishment. "Ah! Good lady! Nice to see that you're in. I was hoping that you might be able to-" "Can't," barked a slender blonde, beauty as she spun past him carrying three different platters to a nearby table of drooling p

"What do you mean 'inaccessible'?! I've been tending this shop for years!" Flustered and frowning, the normally chipper and friendly man had soured on the spot when a system error spawned in the window to his own treasured venue: Quaestor's Quisine. Despite the strength of his grip and vigorous shake, the damnable knob wouldn't budge so much as a fraction of an inch. "I was in here last night!" A furrowed brow signaled trouble for anyone found or deemed to be responsible for this nuisance. As good-natured as he was, nobody messed with his kitchen. Rapid inspection discovered no

____________________ name quentin harbridge age 30 gender m origin english (uk) height 187cm weight 113kg birthday orientation hetero guild none ____________________ document [sp tracking] [inventory] [consumables] [shop] [housing] alt characters [alts] Quentin Harbridge is the bastion of the Madrigal, or he was. Hearty and broad-shouldered, he wa