Information


Scrooge has a minion!

Wealth the Creeping Coin




Scrooge
Legacy Name: Scrooge


The Golden Irion
Owner: Magic

Age: 11 years, 4 months, 3 days

Born: November 25th, 2012

Adopted: 11 years, 4 months, 3 days ago

Adopted: November 25th, 2012

Statistics


  • Level: 1
     
  • Strength: 16
     
  • Defense: 10
     
  • Speed: 10
     
  • Health: 11
     
  • HP: 11/11
     
  • Intelligence: 0
     
  • Books Read: 0
  • Food Eaten: 1
  • Job: Unemployed


Scrooge hated Luminaire. The cold and slippery snow, the annoying carolers singing in doorways, the blinding, blinking, gaudy lights-he hated it all. There was nothing about Luminaire that interested him in the slightest, and nothing that would put a twinkle in his eye or a song in his heart during that time of the year. In fact, his heart was as cold and solid as the golden coins he loved more than anything else in the world. Money was his only source of comfort and enjoyment, and his days were spent collecting coins from those poorer than himself and counting his riches. He worked 7 days a week as the owner of a business that used to belong to both him and his late partner, Jacob Mallarchy. Scrooge ran the firm with a single employee, Bob Cratchit, which allowed him to save money by not paying multiple salaries. As a result, Cratchit was overworked, and unsurprisingly, underpaid. However, his attitude was never dour, and he never thought poorly of Scrooge, for without his job, he wouldn't be able to support his wife and children. His main gripe at work was at how very cold Scrooge kept the office. After all, coals for the fire cost money, and Scrooge kept a tight grip on his coins.

On the eve of Luminaire, Scrooge and Cratchit were hard at work. Scrooge counted shimmering coins at his desk while Cratchit shivered over his writing, worrying the ink would freeze before he had time to copy his work onto the frozen parchment. At a quarter to close, Cratchit stiffly got up from his wooden stool and made his way across the creaky floorboards to Scrooge's desk. Swallowing hard, he began:

"Excuse me, Sir?"
"What is it?"
"Well, tomorrow is Luminaire, and I was wondering if I could have the day off?"
"You mean you won't be working."
"...Yes, but....it's Luminaire. It's a time to be festive and celebrate."
"I see no reason for Luminaire to be celebrated."
"No one else will be working that day. No clients will come into the office. It wouldn't be of financial benefit to remain open."

Scrooge mulled this over for a minute. There really would be no use paying Cratchit if no one was coming in. He did have a point. "Okay," he spoke. "You can have tomorrow off. But I want you in here earlier on December 26th."

"Thank you!" exclaimed Cratchit, smiling as he went to collect his things. "And merry Luminaire to you!" And with that, the clerk disappeared out the door into the gently falling snow, leaving Scrooge alone in the frosty office.

"Luminaire...bah humbug!" Scrooge cursed, dousing the glowing coals in the fire and grabbing his scarf off the hook. He stomped out the door, turned to lock it, then trudged through the streets, a towering figure in a long black cape and ebony top hat.

* * *
Scrooge marched through the streets, causing adults to silence their conversations and children to scatter. He was known for his sharpness and greed, and the townspeople shied away as he passed. Even snowflakes didn't dare land on his silk top hat, instead choosing to whirl away from the greedy man. He soon arrived at his large home at the edge of town. It was a somber, unwelcoming place, fit only for a somber, unwelcoming man like Scrooge. The front door was large and nicely painted, with a golden doorknocker in the center, shaped like the head of an Archan. Today however, something was different. As Scrooge approached his door, he took especial notice of the knocker, and before his eyes, the Archan suddenly changed into the face of Jacob Mallarchy, Scrooge's old business partner. As Scrooge looked on with astonishment, the face suddenly began to twist and contort, chilling Scrooge to the bone and causing him to leap back with horror. However, as quickly as it had begun, the doorknocker reverted to it's usual shape, and once again looked like the familiar Archan. Scrooge trembled on his doorstep, as he fumbled with his keys in the lock. Did that really just happen? He didn't know, and he pushed the scene out of his mind as he swept into his home with a curt "Bah Humbug!". Still, he found himself lighting a few extra candles as he ascended the stairs to his bedroom.

* * *
It was nearly midnight by the time Scrooge was ready for bed, having had his supper and gotten into his night gown. The air in the house felt chillier than normal, and the shadows seemed to lie in unusual ways. He was beginning to feel uneasy, and his uneasiness grew to fear when with a sudden and unexplainable gust of wind, the single candle he had lit went out. As he fumbled for a match, a great noise suddenly shook the room. Scrooge whirled around and faced the impossible; Jacob Mallarchy was standing in the room just a few feet from Scrooge. He was pale as moonlight and quite the transparent fellow-far more transparent than Scrooge recalled. In fact, he wasn't really his old self at all, for he was a ghost. Scrooge's mind, clouded with fear, cleared just enough for him to realize his only friend was covered in otherworldly chains.
"Scrooge!" Mallarchy cried.
"No...no. You aren't real. You're just a passing shadow...a bit of undigested cheese...a trick of the mind!" Scrooge shakily stood from his chair and pointed a trembling finger at the phantom.
"I have come to warn you!" Mallarchy said, ignoring Scrooge's accusation. "If you do not change your greedy, unfeeling ways, you will end up in chains like I am!"
"But my friend, you were not unfeeling towards your fellow man."
"All I cared about in life was money, just like you, and didn't show kindness or love towards those I took it from!"
"What can I do to change my fate?" Scrooge cried, growing scared at the truth of the ghost's words.
"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits, who will show you the error of your ways. Expect the first ghost tonight, when the bell tolls one!" Mallarchy cried.
"Can't I meet them all at once and get it over with?" asked Scrooge.
"When the bell tolls one," the ghost said, unamused.

With this, he slowly began to fade, and before Scrooge knew it, the room was still and silent, as if nothing had even happened.

* * *

Scrooge's heart was only beginning to slow down when, with a deafening sound, his wall clock chimed the hour of 1am. He stood as still as a statue, paralyzed by fear, listening to the chime's echo die away. At first, nothing happened, and Scrooge let out a small chuckle of relief. It had all been a dream. However, a sudden, blinding light encompassed his entire bedroom, and his moment of relief was shattered. As the light dimmed and Scrooge's eyes could see properly, he turned to the source of the radiance. Floating softly above the floor, just to the left of his expensive plush chair, was a ghost. Unlike Mallarchy, she was not bound by chains. Instead, her young, delicate frame was covered in a white dress that flowed airily about her. She was looking at Scrooge with eyes that seemed kind.

"I am the Ghost of Luminaire Past," she spoke. Her voice was young as well. "I am here to show you things that have been."
"Oh kind spirit, please, I have learned my lesson. I do not wish to see such things."
"Take my hand," she instructed, ignoring Scrooge as she extended her arm towards him. He made a mental note that ghosts seemed to be fairly closed to compromise. He took hold of her hand (which felt surprisingly solid), and in a moment, he was in a different place.

Scrooge found himself standing in the corner of a room, facing a number of small school desks. The ghost floated beside him as his eyes took in the familiar sight of his old classroom. The chalkboard was how he remembered it, the map on the wall was still tacked in the same spot, and the busts of former headmasters still kept stoic guard over the room. The only thing that seemed out of place was the fact that there were no children in the room save for one small lad sitting at one of the desks, furiously scribbling lessons in a book. He realized that lad was himself, as a boy. It felt strange looking at his former self through the eyes of a stranger. He didn't like it. It made him uncomfortable. Scrooge started making his way through the rows, walking closer to his child-self.
"Hey!" Scrooge began. The boy did not stir, and made no signs of having noticed the outburst.
"He cannot hear you or see you," spoke the ghost from behind Scrooge, causing him to start. "No one can. We are merely viewing memories that have already happened. You no longer have influence over them."

* * *

(GHOST OF LUMINAIRE PAST NOT FINISHED).note: school, lost love

* * *

Scrooge found himself standing once again in his bedroom. The ghost of Luminaire Past was nowhere in sight. His mind whirled with the things he had seen. Long suppressed memories now swam freely around his head, forcing him to relive them for a second time that night. Almost as soon as he sank down into his chair, a clatter came from the downstairs kitchen. Without concern for robbers, Scrooge made his way downstairs. Having already experienced two ghosts that night, he was feeling bold enough to investigate the noise. As he rounded the bottom of the stairs, he saw light streaming from underneath the kitchen door. He pushed his way through and was instantly met with the sight of a bountiful feast laid out on the table. And sitting at the head of the table was an enormous figure, masculine in appearance, and dressed in fancy green and gold robes. The second ghost, surely. The man was pulling grapes off a bunch when he looked up and noticed Scrooge standing dumbfounded in the doorway.

"Come in, and know me better man!" cried the Ghost with a large grin. He motioned to an empty seat. "There's plenty here!"
"Are you the second Ghost?" Scrooge asked shyly.
"Indeed I am. Come in, and know me better man!" he repeated. Scrooge ignored the Ghost's memory lapse and slowly made his way to the empty seat besides the spirit, who appeared to be much more interested in the food than in whatever ghostly business he had with Scrooge.
"I am the Ghost of Luminaire Present," the spirit spoke, reaching for some crackers. "I am here to show you what is passing at this very moment."
"At this very moment? You mean now? And with whom?" The spirit laughed.
"It will be easier if I show you," he said in a booming voice. "Come! Let us walk." The ghost hauled himself up from his chair, and Scrooge followed suit. Placing his ethereal hand on Scrooge's back, the ghost began to guide him to his own kitchen door. As Scrooge looked into the darkness of the hall beyond the doorjamb, the kitchen suddenly fell away, and Scrooge found himself standing outside in the streets. He looked around wildly for a moment before collecting his bearings. The houses in this area were small, and a few boasted damaged roofs and cracked windows. The streets in these parts were missing quite a few cobblestones, and Scrooge surmised, with a bit of revulsion, that himself and the spirit had been transported to the poor part of town. Snow fell gently around them, although Scrooge did not feel the cold, and noticed his breath was not visible in the night air. Meanwhile, the spirit had begun walking towards one home in particular. It was small like the rest of the houses, but a warm light streamed through the large front window. The spirit stooped down to peer into the glass, motioning Scrooge to come and do the same.

Scrooge felt a moment of surprise when he looked in and found himself staring at the family of his employee, Bob Cratchit. He had the sudden urge to step away from the window, but the ghost, one step ahead of Scrooge, calmed him. "They cannot see or hear you." Of course. He should have known.

Cratchit had a large family, from the looks of it. Two young women were laying dishes and cutlery out on a small table, while an older woman (presumably Mrs. Cratchit) was bent over a pot in the fireplace, stirring whatever was inside. A young man, who looked very much like Bob Cratchit, was inching closer and closer to a tiny turkey roasting over a stove.
"Peter, get away from that bird!" Mrs. Cratchit yelled, not even needing to turn and look to see what her son was doing.
"Aw, he's just excited for Christmas dinner! It only comes around once a year," said a voice that Scrooge recognized. He swung his gaze over to the corner, where Bob Crachit sat in a chair with a small boy and an open book on his lap. The boy looked thin and tired, and Scrooge noticed a tiny crutch leaning against the chair. "Let him be excited."
Mrs. Crachit made a small noise of annoyance. "Fine. But don't you start picking at it, Young Man! Girls, have you finished setting the table yet?"
"Yes, Mother!" the girls chanted in unison.
"Then let us all sit down to eat!" cried Bob Crachit from his chair, hoisting himself and his crippled son up. He carried the small boy over to the table and plopped him down at the head of it as the rest of his children filled in the remaining seats and his wife carried the measly turkey over to the hungry crowd. The Luminaire feast, if you could call it that, was pitiful at the best of descriptions. The turkey was small, and looked like it wouldn't provide enough meat for 4 people, let alone 6. The contents of the pot turned out to be a thin-looking vegetable soup, which Mrs. Crachit began spooning into bowls. Scrooge turned to the ghost.
"No bread? No yams? What kind of Luminaire dinner is this?"
"They can't afford anything more," the ghost said with an accusing wink. Scrooge turned back to the family where Bob Crachit had proposed a toast.
"To Ebenezer Scrooge! Without him, this meal would not be happening!"
"SCROOGE?!" Mrs. Crachit exclaimed.

STORY NOT COMPLETE.

STORY NOT COMPLETE.

STORY NOT COMPLETE.

Story based off the lovely work A Christmas Carol, originally written by Charles Dickens in 1843.

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