Old IC Thread [Taming The Flame]

Tobiah was pretty sure his tail was going to fall off, if it hadn't already... His whole rump was somewhere between aching and numb from being in the saddle for so long, also, this saddle needed re-stuffing sooner rather than later, and oiling.


You know... it's probably time you just got yourself a new saddle.





"I know... I know." He muttered to himself as he dragged a paw down his face.


All he wanted right now, beside a new saddle, was a warm meal and a soft bed. He lifted his gaze to the horizon and realised that there was a city in the distance. He cheered out out loud at this revelation and urged the dun into a canter. His legs weren't numb yet, so he'd be totally fine for the short ride. Quickstep happily broke into a canter and they covered the distance in about ten minutes, the horse slowing to a walk as they neared the gates.


"...Shan'Manrir, huh? I've always wanted to come." He overheard a man talking to who he assumed was his wife.


He assumed Shan'Manrir was this city, it seemed it was another place to tick off his 'to go to' list. For now, he was going to find himself an inn so that both himself and Quickstep could get some well deserved rest.
 
After what seemed like a millennium, Loenth had finally reached Shan’Manrir, with no help whatsoever from the porky and sickly merchant he ‘quietly’ murdered along the way. Time was not on his side as he trudged along into the city gates, being greeted by the beauty of the city itself. Letting out a low whistle, Loenth looked around, Sharians of all shapes and sizes were to be found, along with a few other races. “Damned city is too big, how the hell am I supposed to find Shiole this way?” he growled, walking as he eyed his surroundings.


-


-


Loenth continued his walk for what he felt was hours, yet he did not see Shiole in the duration of his walk. Opting to just take a seat on one of the benches near him, he set his belongings down, a loud clunk coming from it. “Bloody idiot… I swear, if I see that Sharian, I would-“


-


-


“You would what, Wylor?” A voice spoke up from behind him, causing Loenth to jump and unsheathe his weapon. Before him stood a Sharian male, donned in armor that covered most of his body, baring only his hands and neck upwards. His fur was an orange color, with streaks of black evident on both his face and hands. As he grinned, his fangs were shown, all sharp and pointed. His eyes were somewhat alluring, one being yellow while the other a deep red. “Now, you were saying something about a bloody idiot of a Sharian?” He spoke up again, a grin forming on his… mouth?


-


-


Loenth sheathed his weapon back into its place, a smirk on his face. “Yes, he’s a bloody idiot for sending the letter so late, I almost want to strangle him right now. Do you know where I might find him?” he asked the Sharian, taking a step forward. “Why yes, I do. Although I suggest you not strangle him, for he might take a bite out of a Mjulnir such as yourself.” He replied, opening his arms wide, engulfing Loenth in his grip. Loenth in turn, returned the hug and let go after a moment.


-


-


“Did you wait long, Wylor? I almost thought you wouldn’t come.” Shiole told him, a laugh escaping his mouth. He walked over to Loenth’s belongings and placed them over his shoulder. “Long enough to almost start a fight with anyone who dared to come near me. You do know how I fight.” Loenth replied, walking to Shiole’s side. "Yes, you would have killed half the town if I had not seen you."


-


-


They then began their walk, Shiole leading the way with Loenth next time him. “Where is this celebration of yours being held, Ri'amiena?” he asked, playing with a rock he found as they were walking to hell knows where. “At a friend’s house, Wylor. Why do you ask?” replied Shiole, looking to Loenth as they continued on. Loenth only grinned and shook his head, throwing the rock into a deserted plot of land that they passed by.


-


-


After a few more minutes of walking, they finally reached their destination. “Well, this is it.” Shiole called out, walking ahead of Loenth, opening the door before them. “Come on inside. It is much more comfier inside than out here.” He added, placing Loenth’s things down next to a table. Loenth followed and walked inside, the outside looked big, which made sense for the room to appear big. Sharians could be found inside, along with a few Dylenor and Mjulnir. Of course, no Duenders were to be seen.


-


-


“Wylor! Over here!” Shiole called out to him. Loenth turned to find Shiole with a Dylenor female in his arms. Walking over, he noted that the woman was a beauty, eyeing her up and down more than once. “Wylor, this is Teranii. Teranii, this is my good friend, Loenth Wylor.” Shiole introduced them both. Loenth took Teranii’s hand, placing a kiss on it. “The pleasure is mine, Teranii.” He said, looking to her. “Oh, of course it is.” Teranii replied, winking to Loenth and walking over to a table.


-


-


Loenth could do nothing but stare, earning a jab to the side by Shiole. “Well, did I not tell you there would be women?” He told Loenth, laughing loudly. “I do hope you enjoy.” He added. Loenth grinned and looked to Shiole and back to Teranii. “Oh, I will make sure I enjoy myself fully.”
 
The journey wasn't the easiest for him: a painful arm and short pauses made him weary, but the tried his best to seem active even a black circles which easily become visible under his eyes explained the opposite thing. However, the trip was one of the nicest he ever have had: he had nice company to talk with and they made no harm whatsoever as he guessed. He sighed outloud as he saw the hint of the gates: he was really glad about the sight and he knew that he deserves a pipe full of herbals. The only problem was just the clumsiness of adding the herbs.


He pulled out his old wooden pipe from his sleeve and herbals from nearby hanging herbal stack, placing the pipe between his cloth-covered thighs, squeezing his thighs slightly together to keep the pipe still and proceeding the clumsy try to stuff the herbals inside. The job didn't end up the most tidiest, obviously, but it didn't seem to matter him much. Though, he didn't have a lot time to concentrate on it until he felt a small poke in his shoulder, which made him move his head a bit over his shoulder.


He recognized the person as probably his youngest travellers, noticing how her lips moved slightly.. exaggerative, he described. He couldn't help but get a bit uncomfortable about the motion: it felt like a special assistance to his deafness, one which he never wants. But the girl barely knew him: he couldn't get offended to the person who didn't know how he felt about the assistance, no.


"Miderenm. Miderenm Gaernms. And you don't need to be on debt and move your lips like that, I can understand flawlessly", he pointed out with a bit monotonic voice but a friendly look, fixing his position a bit more toward Sop'hana. "Though, it did take some time with all these accents around the world", he added with a slight smile on his face for a while. "I had only positive experience when you were with me, it can become really lonely on the long journey like this really fast", he explained with a few waves of hand. "To be honest, you all were less harm to me than I expected. Not that I would have waited that you rob me every minute", he said with a quiet nervous laugh, without revealing that it did cross his mind. Then he nailed his eyes back to the pipe and his operation, watching Sop'hana's mouth sidelong.
 
Soph looked embarrassed that she had made that extra effort. She should have known that he would have learned to cope with his loss of hearing by now, she had just made another fool of herself. Still, he seemed cheery, even comfortable enough to joke about them robbing him. To be perfectly honest, the thought had never crossed her mind, she was too naive and inexperienced to ever suspect that there were others who could take advantage of their fellow man, whatever their race.


She wanted to help... Miderenm, a most peculiar name, and his last name just as interesting, Gaernms,one she rolled around inside of her head for a moment, not to seem rude. She wanted to help him with his pipe, as he seemed to be having difficulty, but after his reaction to her "assistance" with his hearing, she knew it would be taken in the same spirit of 'those who help themselves.'


Soph looked out the window, and let out a soft "oh" at the sight of the city. Nir'Amen was enormous, but it was a natural-looking city, almost as if it had grown there. Shan'Manrir was much different, stone after carefully-cut stone stacked to give the impression of human might and triumph over the outside world. She returned her thoughts to the carriage cabin, feeling eyes in the back of her head. "So," she said at last, noticing her new friend watching her, "Where are you from? And what brings you to Shan'Manrir, Mi-Miderenm?" She looked down, she hoped she had not butchered his name, it was Duender, surely, but a foreign dialect, one she had not heard before. Their other companions were silent, Mara's head bounced in rhythm with the carriage over the stones, she was fast asleep. Algos, in the other hand, was apparently interested in a book he had brought along. This reminded her that she had several of her own in her satchel, those few from the Library she had "borrowed" along with the Mortis Umbra, her cursed burden, but she could not bring it up now. 'Later, I'll have to look through it some more,' she thought, 'there's got to be some clue as to where and how to cure Finn.'
 
Sheut looked at the pup. Almost killed them? How in Issos had he almost killed them?


"I am Sheut, Prince... now King of Chamorest. At least I'm the rightful King. Sharian Navy came in and took over the whole island because of my father's arrogant stupidity. He took too much into his own hands and the Empire didn't like it. I'm not just a low-ranking soldier in the Navy. I stay at the Academy in the heart of the city. I typically go out hunting for food for the Academy. My assignments usually are nothing more than guard duty. That's why I was in Kwovat. I was guarding the cargo ship from pirates.. Also, what did you mean by I almost killed you."





He saw the way the boy looked at the ground and how his muscles were tensed. He could smell the adrenaline pumping through the pup's veins. It wasn't excited adrenaline, however. No, the manner in which the boy stood showed it was fearful adrenaline. He took a calmer tone and kneeled down in front of the boy, looking up at him. He placed his hands on his knees and proceeded to talk softly.





"I know how scary it is out there. I've been on assignments where the object I was guarding was attacked and I was the only survivor. Having to tell my general that the rest of the squad got wiped out and the object lost. It really makes you feel bad. I also had the pleasure of meeting the two slavers who were after you and I can tell you now, their heads lay in an alleyway back in Kwovat. I am not going to let harm come to you two. I lost my mother before I even knew her, and I really wish I could have known her. She sounded like a wonderful woman. I know this woman is not your mother, but you deserve a motherly figure."





Sheut embraced the boy, startling him. He held him for a few seconds before standing up. He rustled the hair atop the boy's head and smiled down at him.





"I have told them what she has gone through, but you know more details than me. I must return to the Academy. It's late, curfew is nearing, and you do not want to know the Academy's punishment for missing curfew. You two take care of each other."





Sheut left the healer and made his way to the Academy. He hoped he had helped the child a little bit, for he would need to tell the healers what was truly wrong. The obvious cuts and the passing out were all that Sheut knew, but the boy would know much much more about her injuries. He opened the door to his room and turned on the lamplight.





"Gates, it has been while. Please, would you-"





Sheut stopped as he turned and saw the dead, lifeless body of his bard. He kneeled down and saw two strange objects. The first, was an odd, purpley gem. He guessed it was an amethyst. the second was a strange pattern singed into the middle of his floor, a rectangle of clean wood in the middle as if something had sat there. He placed gates in the middle of the rectangle and found it was just the right size. What were these strange things and why were they in his room? Who had come in here?


Sheut could not sleep that night and woke groggily the next morning. He grabbed his bow and quiver, trying to ignore the lifeless body in the corner. His hunting duties would resume today, but he would get to the bottom of this mystery.


---------------------


@The Lady Kitsunerisu


---------------------
 
Kearg


The Port City of Uskortai

-----

“Ya know I really forgot just how beautiful the lowerlands are.” Kearg commented of the land that lay out beyond the walls of the Uskortai.



-----

“Well, when white and gray are the only colors you know anything else is very welcoming.” Xhuma’an replied. It was late afternoon so the fields between the forests they came from and the walls of the city were bright and colorful compared to the fields before the capitol. In this part of the day you could even see small animals play in the fields. Well that is until a certain orange flash sprung out into the fields disrupting anything he could. Kearg simply smiled at Andur’mir, the fox always had a way of reminding him of the spirit of adventure.



-----

“Lo there! What be ye bizness!?” A voice came from up upon the battlements.



-----

“We are travelers from the Capitol we are meeting a voyager of the seas here in Uskortai! A certain Captain Belochs Markorter!” he replied formally.



-----

“Aye! We know the captain! But what be yer names!?” Instantly Kearg looked down and away. He didn't normally shy away from his name, but he didn't ever want to drag Xhuma’an into his problems.



-----

“My name is Xhuma’an Gro’virre of Shan’Manrir and the Merchant’s Guild!”



-----

“And yer companion!?”



-----

“This is Kearg Rjunlir of Denos!” A moment passed in silence as the guardsmen shared whispers before,



-----

“Is that Kearg Rjunlir the Red!?” Kearg didn’t think that his name had been so spread across the lands, but it seemed like people love spreading dirt.



-----

“Aye…!” Xhuma’an shouted back reluctantly before sharing a look of worry with Kearg.



-----

“Hold for inspection!” The gates opened slowly and a small group of guards approached the two men on horses. One guard was larger in size, broad and strong and he wore the captain’s sigil. He walked directly up to Kearg and looked him up and down with a very unfriendly look on him, he had the carry of a Hjaltlander, and there was a certain ‘highness’ about the way he looked at things down his nose. Kearg simply looked back at the man and waited for him to finish. The captain soon backed up and looked at both of them.



-----

“Captain Markorter and The Wild Wench have yet to make port here.” His voice was gruff and deep. It reflected a soul weathered by the worst of war and the flat accent confirmed his heritage. “You may stay here until he comes so long as you don’t cause any trouble.” He eyed Kearg suspiciously then turned back around and led his men back into the city. Xhuma’an, Kearg and Andur’mir disheartedly followed. After the guards fell back to their posts and Kearg and Xhuma’an had passed a ways from them Kearg turned to Xhuma’an and said,



-----

“The Wild Wench?” Xhuma’an just laughed.



-----

“I’ll let Belochs answer that. Come now, I know a good place to stay while we wait for him.”



The Squeaky Wheel

-----

At the top of the hill was the Squeaky Wheel. With its large solid construction it didn’t really seem to fit the description, but the old wheel in place of a sign made Kearg chuckle. Xhuma’an led the man as he pushed open large door to the loud place. Kearg took a little comfort in the noise and the hearty beats and bangs that came from within.



-----

“WHY LOOK WHO IT IS!” Kearg was surprised and habitually became defensive worried that someone else wanted to prove how weak the Rjunlir were, but to his surprise he found that this time it wasn’t about him.



-----

“I can’t believe me eyes! Xhuma it’s been years!” The old Barkeep came from behind the bar and wrapped the smaller Sharian up in his arms. “Come sit and we’ll get ye both something to drink!” Kearg could hardly believe his eyes. He knew that Xhuma’an traveled, but it seemed that the old merchant was more popular and well known than Kearg was. Which he in second thought considered a good thing; it took the attention off of Kearg and thus reduced the chances of getting into a fight. It always seemed that if someone knew Kearg that meant that he was going to get into a fight. Not that he’d shy from one, but Kearg is trying to be better about starting fights, he didn’t want to disappoint Xhuma’an or the girls and Tarlek again. As they were led to a nice table next to the bar back in the corner where the barkeep tossed off a few blacked out drunks Kearg had gone mostly unnoticed….mostly.



-----

“You know him?” Kearg asked as they sat.



-----

“Why me and Brulek go way back. He and I worked here for three years back when we were boys. Haha! Oh those were the days.” Xhuma’an smiled as his memories fell back into ‘the good old days.’ The drinks came and were set infront of the two. You could smell how strong the drinks were from where they sat in front of you.



-----

“Who’s the lad Xhuma?” Brulek the barkeep asked with a smile.



-----

“Why this is Kearg, he’s a terrible tenant, but a great hunter! Haha!” Kearg was just confused at what was going on before him; he had never seen this side of Xhuma’an. However Kearg soon shook off the shock and grabbed the drink before him and knocked it together with Xhuma’an’s. Tonight was going to be fun.



-----

“Oi lad! Looks like you’ve got an admirer.” Brulek pointed over to a certain Mjulnir warrior who was small in size with crimson hair and obviously a stranger to manners as she simply stared at Kearg with a stupefied face. Like she was trying to figure him out which made Kearg feel on edge so he didn’t take his eyes off her. “Haha, good luck lad!” The barkeep winked and walked off back to the bar.



-----

“You know her?” Xhuma’an asked as he saw how Kearg was staring at the girl.



-----

“I don’t…..know.” Kearg found himself lifting his mug at the same time as the woman did. At first it was going to be just a sip, but she was drinking too; he couldn’t let her be the last to put down her mug. They maintained eye contact the entire time the ends of their mugs went up to the roof. Soon both slammed their mugs down at the same time and the woman shouted,



-----

“OI! 'NUVVA!” Kearg didn’t know how, but he managed to start another fight.



-----

“BARKEEP! ANOTHER!” He commanded. Burlek shot glances at the both of them and smiled. He pointed at a worker and signaled for them to help out and soon both Mjulnirs had stouts in their hands and they began to drink, this time they stood up and began approached each other. Like something out of an elaborate Dylenor dance the members of the bar had silently volunteered to join, the room set the table and two stools for the two as they sat down and finished their second drinks. Quickly after sitting across from each other their stouts met their ends and both drinkers had been awarded another. The entire bar was now interested in what was going on in the now stadium like set up as they all cheered on, but behind this entertainment Kearg was now beginning to think that this woman had something familiar about her as if--



-----

"Hah! Atsa Kearg ah 'member! All ah needed's a swig!"The woman muttered between takes. This threw Kearg off for a moment, but he found that she was already into her next one. Quickly he took the next up and soon set it down empty.



-----

“WAIT!” Kearg blurted. The woman stopped and leaned in with a smirk. She knew that he didn’t yet remember, but she wanted him too, so she stared at him with a plastered smirk.



-----

…



-----

“MINKE!?” Pleased she sat back and with a cock of her head she threw her hands up as if presenting herself.



-----

“Haha! You used ta visit Denos with yer father! Yah! You made me eat a frog and I had ta go around eatin’ frogs ta cover it up so all the others wouldn’t make funna me!” Kear said.



-----

"Ye still cryin' 'bout 'at?" Retorted Minke.



-----

“Oh I’m not cryin’ anymore.” Kearge stated with a defiant smile before he started drinking again. Minke jumped up quickly after she realized that it wasn’t over. The crowd roared at the two resuming the drinking contest. Now that Kearg knew what was so familiar about her the only thought that ran through his head about her was,



-----

'Hey, she's kinda cute.'
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Minke and Kearg, The Squeeky Wheel Inn

​




As their third drinks arrived, Minke found herself reminiscing on the few short visits she'd payed to the Rjunlir house as a child. She was surprised with herself honestly, that she'd recognized Kearg at all, he'd been much smaller back then, still a spindly youth, but now he looked like many other Mjulnir men, stocky, box-like frames and a barrel chest, her only true hint that it'd been the boy she'd known, was the scar over his brow.

Kearg had gotten the scar when she'd forced him to eat a toad, ages ago now, his head had been split open on a rock when she pinned him. There was never a doubt in Minke's mind that the red-haired boy was plenty stronger than her, and no doubt he still was. His pacifism had always infuriated her as a child. Now though, a look about the man he'd grown into, she could tell that pacifism wasn't exactly in his nature any more, and that she probably wouldn't be getting him to eat any more frogs any time soon.

"Ye finally tire o' th' highlands?" Minke asked, taking hold of her fourth flagon in time with her old friend, then knocked the mug back, not expecting an answer 'til both had emptied their drinks. One eye deep in her cup, and the other locked on her competitor and friend, Minke had twin thoughts run through her mind, 'At's a fine stout, Topi weren't lyin' and quietly thereafter, Ah wonder if 'e's candled yet? The latter directed of course to Kearg, though she motionlessly shook the notion from her mind, not the sort of thought she ought to be thinking so early after meeting him again.

Flagons slamming to the tabletop again, the next was already before them.

"Let's say that I'm repayin' a favour," Kearg replied, scarred fist grasping his rough iron mug around its middle, Minke meanwhile, took hold by the handle haphazardly bent out from the cup's body.

As their fifth stouts tipped back, and slid more than poured, down thirsty throats, the pair's audience laughed, cheered, placed bets, and even pitched some coin in for the tab. Apparently entertainment was difficult to come by; either that, or folk were curious as to how much such a small woman could drink, though perhaps some had darker intentions than that, little that it mattered.

Once more, there was the dull thump of iron striking oak, and an explosive sigh of contentment escaped two sets of lips in unison. Across the room, Minke's travelling companions were settling their tab, and moving upstairs, Kearg's 's Sharian friend still caught up in conversation with the barkeep, both taking an occasional glance toward the drinking contest, where every other eye was glued.

"And what're you up ta? It's been years since I done seen ya last," Kearg asked, motioning the serving girl to hurry their next set along as she tried to weave her way through the throng of onlookers.

"Ah did some trainin' 'ere, ah'm a right real fighter now," she replied with a sharp laugh, her breath carrying the scent of alcohol, as no doubt Kearg did as well by this point.

"Still in... Bolos?" Kearg continued in askance, just as their sixth drinks arrived. Minke did nothing more than nod as mugs met lips, and their stouts were drained again, to yet another round of cheering from their audience.

"And yer father?" he went on. The same subject was tender for Kearg, and even after all these years he knew well enough that the subject would come up regardless, it was just better that he first broach it.

"Dead now, lost on th' roads 'e was," Minke replied, a crimson flush just beginning to appear on her cheeks. Kearg had felt the heat in his face for a short time now, and no doubt he was at least as far along as his drinking partner.

At the mention of her dead parent, Minke pulled the horn from her belt, and lifted it to her lips, still waiting for their next drink, she took an extra swig of something that smelled a mite stronger than stout. That made Kearg raise a brow, the look almost comical on such a mapped face.

The seventh pair of mugs arrived, and Kearg was beginning to wonder where the crimson-haired woman was putting the drink, the mugs near the size of her bloody head, and still she didn't slow.

Both lifted their mugs in unison, but this time Minke's hit the table a moment earlier.

"An' yer pa?" she asked, knowing that family was always touchy subject for Kearg, never sure to be angry with them, or to protect their every decision.

A solemn look was Kearg's only response, though a hiccup interrupted that stare, apparently he was getting a little further along than he'd thought, realizing just now how the crowd around them seemed to tilt and swirl at once. Before he'd realized it, their eighth drinks had arrived, and Minke was already begun.

A short time later, one flagon hit the table again, and Minke motioned another be brought over, while Kearg was only about halfway through his last, and before the next arrived, he spluttered into the mug, and lost a good mouthful of stout down his collar.

"So yer all grown up now, eh?" the guardswoman asked, looking tentatively at her horn once more before she decided to take another nick from it.

Kearg coughed a little, clearing the ale from his lungs as his mug once more struck the table.

"And what of yourshelf? I thought ye'd have grown a little since we were children," he replied, answering the question with a question of his own, though he was beginning to slur his words.

"An' ah thought ye'd 'ave been a better drinker by now lilyliver," she answered with a shrill laugh that went on a little too long, apparently the liquor beginning to get to her as well.

The ninth mugs now arrived, and Minke was upon hers in a flash, dedicating both of her hands to steady the tankard this time, seeming smaller than when they'd started, though it must have been a trick of the mind. Kearg clumsily, almost drowzily, took hold of his own stout, and raised it to his lips, but before he made it halfway through the drink he felt a hammering pain in his chest, and coughed into the drink, spraying it across his entire face, then a sudden rush of the fluid poured down his throat, making him cough again, and forcing him to set the drink to the table to recover himself. Too late Kearg realized that he'd just lost the contest, and in celebration, Minke belched over her latest empty drink, and leapt to her feet with a cheer, both hands up over her head, much the way she'd entered the inn, and again when presenting herself to Kearg. There was a round of cheers and cries of despair combined as much gold exchanged hands; it seemed that many young soldiers had bet large sums upon Minke.

Before all of the coin had exchanged hands, Minke had lifted the horn on her belt to her lips again, and drained that as well, before wobbling a step, and slumping heavily back into her stool across from the big scarred man she'd just bested.​
 
Last edited by a moderator:
"I know what you're thinking: I won't let you fill the pipe", he suddenly said after a moment of silence, pointing her slightly with the tip of the pipe. "I'd be fine by that, special care to my deafness is my only weak spot, forgive me if I seemed to imply something other also", he explained with a hospitable and wide smile. "And please, don't look like that, you didn't know how long I've been deaf. Been since birth but fortunately I did learn quickly", he reassured as she saw her embarrassed look. "I do perfectly fine with this problem, rarely been a problem in the business", he added with a small descriptive blink and tilt of the head. He wasn't familiar with persons who asked him questions, usually the conversation was other way around. But he considered the scene as a nice variation: Sop'hana seemed reliable and truthful girl. She was easy to read, he could think.


"I have no idea. Sounds weird but it's true. I was born in tribe which wander across the roads of Issoss.. Ever heard of Területs?", he asked back with a small pout. "I hope not. At least not from Duender. They don't have the best fame", he sighed but his mood was brightened by the success of filling the pipe. "So I guess I am from everywhere, as I've travelled a lot", he came to conclude as he placed the pipe between his teeth, hoping the hole of the lost tooth won't be seen. "I hope you don't mind about the smoke, it's not tobacco. Smells better if you ask me", he apologized as he started to light the herbs, it taking a few matches to finally succeed. "I'm here to help an old Sharian. I am a healer and mercenary, you see. Thought not magical, I know nothing about magic. I don't want to", he explained with a shake of his head and a bit sorry frown. "I've been taught not to trust it. I do only natural cures", he added as he took inhales from his pipe and giving a small introduction by a wide wave of hand towards all the hanging herbals. "So can I now ask back why did you come here?", he suggested as he looked her puzzling, placing the pipe back between the lips. "Relatives?", he guessed halfly outloud as he exhaled the smoke from his nose, hoping she didn't consider him too eager to know about her.
 
~Shan'Manrir Docks~


It was evening when the flagship "Edged Fang" docked at the mighty port of Shan'Manrir, the City of Gold. Sebastian was just finishing writing his daily log in the captain's quarters. The light from the magically powered crystals that were bolted to the ceiling made the room gain a rustic appearance, despite the pragmatism had in mind while building it. All the space was used correctly, nothing was over-cluttered, the furniture was bland, but each drawer and corner was rented by equipment required for sailing, drawing tactics and whatnot. At his desk, Sebastian closed the logbook, letting out a sight as he petted the double-bladed glaive that served him so well over the years. Closing his eyes, he let his mind slip a little down memory lane, as he remembered the days where he was not the famed and fabled Admiral of the Wolf Fleet, but a simple child, glancing at the Dylenor soldiers as they passed by the crowd in their solemn march, guarding any important figure at every celebration. He used to glance at their weapons and armor, cleaned beforehand for inspection, yet still showing the many scars of battle. Sebastian knew from the very beginning that he would soon join in their footsteps, taking up arms to protect his homeland of Mloik.


A polite and respectful knock on the door was what woke him from his nostalgic state, as the muffled voice of his First Mate announced through the thick, wooden door.


"Captain, we're here. Any additional orders?" the words rang.


"Thank you, Johsan. You may tell the crew to announce the other ship captains that the men are free to visit the city, provided they'll be back at the ships before curfew, at sundown. I will go report our success to the Merchant's Guild's headquarters." Sebastian replied. It was needless to instuct him to assign guard duty around the ships. That much was known as a law already. Same was with resupplying for their trip back home to Kwovat.


Taking his weapon and splitting it into the two halves that composed the whole, he sheathed them and went out the door. First Mate Johsan was gone by the time he exited his room, and venture down the walkboard, stepping on the concrete ground. The air of the island mixed with the breeze and current of the sea, invading his nose with sweet aromas, most of them coming from the fruits sold by the merchants in the docks. The stalls were bursting with goods of all kind. Ingredients, fruits, equipment and even small souvenirs, for turists. Taking a glance around, Sebastian's sight stopped at the gate and walls separating the dock section from the main city. Security was pretty lax, for such a blooming country. Also, the way was only barred by a portcullis and behind it, a wooden, large gate, reinforced with steel hinges and stripes, which now laid wide open for the sailors to enter the city, after passing the guards, of course.


"Hmmph, the Sharians were never much for barricades. That gate can be smashed away by the joint effort of 3 Lion Fleet ships. Guess that's why they chose to be our allies, instead of enemies.". Sebastian smirked guiltily at the thought. He wasn't against the Sharians, but the groundless overconfidence that characterised most of their species disgusted him. Deciding it would be best if he made his way to the Great House of Commerce, the Merchant's Guild's main headquarters, by dusk, he hastened his pace, ignoring the vendors and their continous cries for customers, ever-willing to prove that their wares are the best in all Issoss.


Once reaching the docks' gate, he presented his documents and name to the security, who cleared his entrance right away. The title of "Admiral" had its perks. The city was bustling with life, as he remembered it from past visits. He would use to accompany his father on his many trips out to sea, the ones that did not include any planned hostility on the way, of course.


"Strictly a matter of business, my son!" his father would say to him, and his mother, to reassure her.


Sebastian mentally pictured how he would respond to such claims. His more young and enthusiastic self would be prone to spout nonsense replies, his father's favourite being, "But father, I want to see you fight pirates and save the world!".


At such words, his father would chuckle and ruffle his hair, while sitting on his knees, looking into his eyes.


Sebastian deemed it not the proper time to let himself engulfed in memories, shaking his head fiercely once to return his vision to the present. He was walking down the Jeweled Street, the main street of Shan'Manrir, where statues carved from gold and adorned with gems of all kinds and sizes would be as common as fish in a pond. The extravagance did not really attract the lone Admiral, who was making his way through the crowd of eye-gawkers, staring at the art around them.


~Great House Of Commerce~


Finally, he had reached his destination. The Great House of Commerce was right before him, in all its splendor. The walls did not present one crack in their vigil. Towers stood high and proud, fire dancing from their tops, guarded by faitful watchers, with their crossbows and ballistaes at the ready. There were a total of 50 steps that led towards the entrance, all covered in a red carpet, with gold lining strips on the sides. Over the entrance, the great hands of a clock were showing the world the time, beautifully colored stained glass on the background, reflecting the light from the sun, which was now failling to keep its head above the tides of the Azure Sea, behind Sebastian.


Entering the hall, Sebastian was approached by a rather old-looking Sharian, which resembled a lion, but with grey fur and long whiskers. His muffle moved funny as he spoke towards the blue-cloaked Admiral.


"Ah, Admiral Grauwen. I've received word of your coming. Please, follow me to the Golden Chamber, the Guild Headmasters are waiting for you!"


"By all means, senechal, lead the way!"


Following through narrow corridors, at the end founding a large, gilded door, which the senechal had opened by the guards stationed. Entering in a round hall, Sebastian was amazed by the carvings and paintings that were exposed to him inside. While the opulence displayed outside did not sway him, he only now realised the best was kept for last.


Stepping forward even more, he spot a very wide table, behind it sitting a total of 7 figures, all on chairs that could ressemble thrones, for as much as he was concerned. Taking a respectful bow, the Admiral decided to wait until he was adressed before speaking. After all, he was a guest here, and the first move towards conversation should always be the host. And just as he thought, it wouldn't be long before a gutural voice addressed him from the seat situated at the middle of the table.


"Welcome to our humble abode, Admiral Grauwen!" the voice boomed.


"Humble is not exactly the word I would've used to describe this place, but I guess we're all entitled to our own opinion, unfortunately!"


"We have heard many tales of your feats during your career. We are pleased that the Asralshar High Military Command sanctioned someone as yourself for this perilous task!"


"It was my honor, Headmaster Ghajus! When I heard that the Terago Coalition required the help of the Dylenor Navy for a troublesome mission, I was more than happy to finally get out of my office back at High Command and partake in a hunt.". Normally, people would consider this, as it was called, "boot-licking", but the words spoken by Sebastian bore nothing but pure truth. Afterall, anyone would go crazy, being stucked in a room all day, doing paperwork, after trainning their whole life to fight.


"Ah, yes, no one knows your grief, better than us, Admiral!" another voice bloomed, this time, a more high-pitched one, no doubt belonging to a woman. Or at least, a female. How does one even categorise the genders of beastfolk? "These constant attacks on our cargo and envoy ships this past weeks have practically drowned us in enough paper to last for several lifetimes. Not to mention the financial setbacks. So, how did your undertaking result afterall?". Suddenly, the trivialities ceased being discussed and business was being brought into question.


"As promised, Headmasters, the Asralshar Navy has uphold its vow and found, routed and exterminated the threat from its very core. We found the pirate cove in a gulf, located in the North-West of the Terynna Islands, under your territory. Naturally, we disposed of all remnants, burnt all ships and houses to the ground, and killed every survivor of the bombing. Our mission...was a sound victory!" the warrior spoke.


"Capital, Admiral Grauwen! This calls for a celebration! Three days and three nights, Shan'Manrir shall hold festivities, in honor of your recent, succesful campaign! Liquor shall sweep the streets, food shall fill our bellies, and our ears shall be enchanted by divine music from our blessed instuments and musicians!" Headmaster Ghajus spoke once again.


At this development, Sebastian's first impulse was to refuse politely. "I'm honored by your kindness, Headmaster, but I should direct my men back to their homes. They've been gone from their families for quite some time now!"


"I'm sure they will be fine, once they have a taste of the hospitality the Sharians have to offer, especially in our grand and marvelous capital! Do not fret, Admiral, I will send word to the Asralshar High Command to praise you and to explain the delay, I'm more than sure you will be fine! I will not take "no" for an answer!"


Sebastian's mouth's corners started falling down, as he sighed in defeat. "Very well, if you insist, I suppose our departure can wait some more." was all he could say. "Marvelous, I will have seneschal Waren to take care of the details. Meanwhile, you will be our guest of honor for the whole duration of the celebration! If you will accompany us, we would take you on a tour of our grand city!"


Sebastian never thought a live person can sound so dead, until he heard himself speak one final time, before letting himself being dragged away by the Headmasters: "That sounds lovely...". His last words were also accompanied by a subtle roll of his eyes, as he joined the procession.


~Several hours later, somewhere on the opposite shore from Shan'Manrir~


Peeping through a telescope, the hooded, masked figure was glancing from the distance on the fires and lights coming from the city from afar. The sound of laughter, cheers and loud music could be heard from there, which was quite a long way. The hooded person let out a chuckle, as he gave up on trying to figure out how stupid the people over there were. Throwing a grand party for no apparent reason was but one of the reasons behind his contemplation. Luckily enough, he'd stopped being lost in his thoughts just as another hooded, masked man came close and whispered intelligibly.


"Brother, we have a problem."


The unrest and tension in the man's voice was enough for the first figure to turn around to face him and ask bluntly.


"What are the thoughts you harbor that make you sound so afraid, brother? Is your faith in our benefactor Mektor starting to shake?". The gap between the first voice and the second was the same as the one between the sky and the earth. While the first was trembling from emotion, the second sounded colder than the grave in its threatening calmness.


"Far from such a terrible thing, brother! My faith in our mighty Lord shall never falter! But it is not he who is the root of my fears. Our contacts have just revealed that that troublesome betrayer, Lorkhan, just made it to Asralshar's King's court, and right now is telling him everything he knows!"


Just a second went by, as the second voice's possessor bursted into laughter. After calming himself down, his words rang again through the night. "Lorkhan is but an ant caught in the storm that is our crusade, just like the rest of this puny world! Let him rat on us all he wants, it is already too late for anyone to stop us now, even for the Dylenors and their almighty armada!"


"But our armies are nowhere near completion, brother! Even if Kwovat and its armies are weeks behind us, our strength still isn't enough to take on the full bulk of the Dylenor Navy! Maybe we should fall back for now and come again, when we will be better prepa---"


The rest of the sentence was prevented by making itself heard by the vines that rosed from the ground, which snapped the neck of their speaker. "Weak fool. Our forces are more than enough to deal with anyone who dares stand in our way. By dawn, our armies will be even bigger, once we wipe out all those living in that prepostorous city, known as Shan'Manrir!"


As the masked man talked to himself, others gathered behind him. "All is set." was all they said.


"Good, then the hour is upon us. May Mektor guide us in our path. Go my brothers and sisters, spread death on this land! Make it bend its knee to us, its rightful rulers!"


One more hum lifted in the air, as the crowd joined in a last breath.


"Aedas vas Tenebros"
 
An hour had passed since Shuet had because of curfew, and Zevran was slowly on the mend. Jenesari had been frightened during the entire escapade. He was kicking himself for not speaking to the male Sharian, or lashing out at him when he had touched him. The young boy did not trust males very much, and Shuet put him on the edge, even when he was trying to be soft. Jenesari had told them that they both had been going for a swim outside of the city, but the waves had been crazy and Zevran had received most of her injuries from that. He didn't know how to explain how she got her side wound that appeared to be bleeding quite a lot more than it had been. He sat in the corner of the room, staring at the healers as they worked on Zevran's injuries. Infection had set in, which meant that they had to work harder at keeping her alive. The healers would glance at him at times to see what he was doing, and every time they would find him doing the same thing. Staring at Zevran. They hadn't known each other very long, but she had saved him, and she was doing her best to keep him safe. He was so grateful for that, and really hoped that he could keep being with Zevran for a long time to come.


His eyes were heavy from restless sleeping. He nearly couldn't keep them open. He tried his best to stay awake so that he could keep an eye on Zevran, but his exhaustion got the better of him and he felt himself drift into the dark comfort of sleep. He kept on sleeping when he was picked up and set in the large cot that Zevran was resting as well. He didn't even wake as he instinctively curled up to her side. His breaths remained steady and calm. It had appeared that the night would hold comfort for him, a comfort that he hadn't known in such a long time....


Suddenly he was awoken by screaming and flames. He fell from the cot, heat wafting over his fur, singeing it. His eyes were blurry from sleep and he couldn't focus. He stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the heat. He felt his back his the canvas of the white tent that the healers were housed in. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings, adrenaline surged through his veins. The world went silent, replaced with the sounds of footsteps, followed by the sound of something being dragged.


Step. Step. Drag. Step. Step. Drag.





His gaze slowly came into focus, seeing a shadow move every slowly towards him. His heart skipped several beats before resuming.


Step. Step. Drag. Step. Step. Drag.





"What are you?" He whined out, sounding like an injured puppy. He let out a yelp when the flames jumped towards him, catching his tail. He howled in pain as the fire crept up his tail. He wildly patted at it, putting the fire out quickly before it could do anymore damage.


STEP. STEP. DRAG.





The boy froze, his gaze suddenly hyper-focused on the two feet standing in front of him. His gaze went upward, seeing ragged clothing, rotting skin underneath, before reaching to a helmet covered face with glowing red eyes staring down at him. He began to shake uncontrollably.


"P-p-please d-don't hurt m-m-me," he stuttered out, his gaze going to the thing that it had been dragging. It was the body of one of the healers. She was feline in nature, with beautiful white fur that was marred in blood and soot. Her vibrant gold eyes had become gray and dead. Tears began to fall from his eyes. He watched as the creature grabbed both legs and held the healer like a club. A sadistic laugh came from it, sounding tinny because of the helmet. Then the body of the healer came flying towards Jenesari. He screamed out, staring her right in the eyes. The head suddenly came to life, staring at him blankly. Her dead lips slowly moved, mouthing one word, and one word only.


"Jenesari," his blood ran cold then he awoke from the nightmare that had enveloped him. He sat upright in bed, a high pitched whine escaping his throat. He tried to calm himself, but nothing could calm him.


"Zevran!" He cried out. He finally felt something stir next to him, then jerk upright to stare at him. It was Zevran. Her wounds appeared to be almost completely healed. Her arms went around him instantly and she brought him to her chest.


"Hush little one, I am here. You were just having a bad dream," she felt Jenesari sob into her fur, and all she could do was hold him, pet him, and comfort him. She peaked to the window that was outside of her room at the inn, having arrived there with Jenesari not too long ago. The healers had done an amazing job at healing her, but she could feel the soreness seeping into her very soul. As she held the pup she wondered if she would see Shuet again, or if he had abandoned them.


@LupusDeUmbra
 
Soph was about to reply to his comments, about Területs, about being a mercenary and a healer, about smoking the sweet-smelling herbals. But Miderenm continued on, apparently not noticing her mouth open slightly to interject a comment, but fall shut quickly as he went on to the next question. She guessed she couldn't fault him, he had said that not many wished to talk to him, so having a chance of his own to talk to a willing listener, that must be a luxury. His mistrust of magic made her cringe a little, she didn't know how he would handle her own abilities. So when he asked the reason she had come here, she decided not to tell him the truth, since he may be less eager to help her. He had mentioned relatives, and that was part of the reason, but she could think of a convincing story to tell him that he may follow her up on. "Well, partially. More to get away from my relatives than to visit them. My family did not take well to my studies, so I ran away to pursue knowledge, anywhere, and that's how I wound up here." She hopes he would not press her for too much more information, since she had nothing to back up her claims.


She was about to bring up his subjects again, specifically his heritage, since the Területs were a story told to young children, a fairy tale of wicked spirits who ate children who didn't behave properly, as well as animals that wouldn't obey their masters. She had dismissed these as legends, but now here was a man claiming to be one if them, and he was not the image of a terrifying beast she had imagined. "You said you were...," she began, but was interrupted by a roar of cheering. She raised the curtain and found themselves deep in the city streets of Shan'Manrir, and crowds lines both sides of the road, cheering and celebrating. "By the Archons, what is this?!" Soph proclaimed. She had never been in a city as large as Nir'Amen, and this one was twice as loud.


The carriage came to a halt, the crowds would not stand aside any more, their progress would have to halt here. "We have to find a place out of the way, we may be trampled to death in this commotion," she looked out both sides of the carriage, "There! An inn, we should be able to get a room there?" she half stated, half questioned. The Boar's Tusk appeared to be a well-kept establishment, at least from the outside, and the alleyway was more than wide enough to accommodate their carriage.


@Manoneno1
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The words about her relatives made him nod a few times. He was fascinated by what she studied, but he concluded it to be a bit too personal to be talked at the first conversation they ever have had, as she didn't mention what she wants to study. Maybe later, then..., he thought about it. "Well, this is a good place to study. Sharians are kind and helpful towards every race", he commented with a smile, thinking at the back of his head was she coming to learn something about sailing and such. The possibility sounded absurd to him: Nir'Amen was far away from the water. Placing his pipe back between his lips, he added: "Well, I hope and believe your relatives love you, no matter what knowledge you seek."


It was obvious to him what she was going to ask from him next. But he was always happy to even try to clean the infamous legends about his tribe, as they were almost the opposite of it. He was sure that Duenders, back the time when they discovered the abilities of healing by magic, were scared of Területs raiding the magic healing business with their growing natural healing business. So, for Területs fortune - sort of - Duenders didn't start a physical action to stop their businesses, but a media one. The tales didn't take long to spread, and soon the oppression took a new level: the cockamamie tales turned to physical abuse towards Területs, less or more serious. The population of almost 48 thousand Területs reduced in a few decades rapidly, as Területs didn't want to give their descendants a dark, oppressed future.


The concludes which he made seemed to make him feel upset: due to overview to the history of Területs, he seemed to remain lagged with a slight frown and pipe between his lips. But he wiped the thoughts away by thinking the situation nowadays: less Területs, less tales about them and less oppression. It was as simple as that, nothing more or less. Still, he felt a bit sorry how most of the racist nowadays seem to have no idea the origin of tales: they absorb all the tales, without thinking the history of them or even thinking the rationality of them. But he also felt that declining the tales was hard, almost impossible, as almost every book made by Duender told the same things with the same structure: Területs evil, Területs cannibals, Terület monsters....


He nailed his yellow eyes back at Sop'hana, and he saw her being surprised by something. The look in her face made Miderenm take a peek outside. "Ah, Sharians love their parties. You never know what awaits you", he commented with a dry hem. At the first time he arrived Shan'Manrir, he was surprised by the joyfulness of Sharians: the looks of them told a different story to him, but of course, appearances are deceitful. "Sounds like a plan", he agreed with her suggestion as he guided his horse to the alley. "Do you mind to wake up Sop'hana and inform that we are here? Unless Algos wants to carry mha to the bed", he said to them as he stepped outside the carriage to tie his horse in the nearby plank.
 
Sheut strode through the city, quiver slung across his back and bow in hand. He had left Apophis in the room in case of the chance of another intrusion. He had looked Gates more closely this morning and found that the cuts on his body were in very specific locations. There was an "X" above his heart, a slash across each palm, the neck slit open vertically, and a star-like shape on Gates's abdomen. He had inspected further and found that the heart had been completely removed.


He had then turned his attention to the seemingly burned shapes on the ground and found that it was merely a sooty resin left behind from burning blood. He could only assume Gates's blood. He made a quick sketch of the symbol and would take it around to the various magic shops later and ask what it meant. As he made his way to the gate that led to the forest, he decided to make a detour to the Inn. He would check the room to see if the woman and boy had gotten back or if they were still with the healers.


He decided to cut through one of the many unused, narrow alleyways that dotted the city. As he was making his way through the dark path, he noticed a strange door on the side of one of the buildings. The door was made of a strange, black wood and had a knob shaped like a skull. The skull had amethysts in each of its eyes. Sheut went to touch the doorknob when a wood panel slid to the side near the top of the door. Startled, Sheut looked up and found himself looking into a pair of hollow eye sockets. What in Issos was behind that door? Raising his bow, Sheut calmly asked the figure.


"What are you and what is this building?"





"When the shadows draw near, what phrase will be known?"





"Excuse me? I am from the Navy and I demand you tell me what your business here is."





That was the last thing Sheut could remember. He opened his eyes and found himself still in the alleyway, a splitting headache spreading through his skull. He got up and scanned the area. The door was gone, but in its place was the same symbol that had been on his floor. Why did this symbol keep popping up and what did it have to do with him? On full alert, he made his way to the Inn. He went up and knocked on the door of the woman's room, hoping at least the boy would answer.


----------------------


@The Lady Kitsunerisu


----------------------
 
The minutes passed by slowly as Zevran felt Jenesari become less tense. His eyelids grew heavy as his body relaxed more and more until finally he drifted back into slumber. Zevran, however, did not slip back into sleep. All she could do was stare up at the ceiling, her demeanor one of thought. Her eyes were void of emotion, and her face still as a stone. Only her mind raced, and raced. So much had changed within the last week. And all of it began with finding this young one out in the woods, about to be ripped apart by dire bears. She couldn't quite fathom it all. So quickly had she gotten the urge to protect this young one, so quickly had they created a bond, even even more quickly she had uprooted her entire life for the sake of Jenesari. She almost felt overwhelmed, but it all felt...right. Somehow it all felt right. Perhaps it was just the nature of a Sharian woman to bring in a helpless pup, or perhaps she was subconsciously like this because he had lost his parents at a young age, just like she had.


She let out a deep sigh, cutting it short when she heard furred knuckles on wood. She looked down at Jenesari who was deep in sleep. She slowly moved him so that he was rolled onto his other side. He didn't stir from his slumber as she got up from the bed and padded her way to the door. She unlocked the door then opened it to reveal the strong physique of the male Sharian, Shuet. She had to look up to stare him in the eyes. Her face remained emotionless as she stepped to the side and motioned him in. When she closed the door and turned back to the rest of the room she was startled by a very awake Jenesari. He was crouched on the bed, his fur was ruffled, his fangs were bared, and he overall looked ready to kill someone.


"Jenesari, calm down, it is just Shuet," Zevran snarled at Jenesari, but still he did not settle down. Finally Zevran walked forward and grabbed the young pup by the scruff of the neck. She pushed her snout into his and stared him directly in the eyes, a warning growl emanating from her throat. "Calm. Down," she snarled before releasing him. He seemed unwilling at first, but he quickly stood down and laid down on the bed, turned away from them.


@LupusDeUmbra
 
Sheut made his way into the room, staying near the door. He laid his bow on the table and proceeded to sit on the floor in front of the door. He looked from Zevran to the boy, seeing the exchange and wondered why he still set the boy on edge. He was here to help and he didn't understand the pup's ferocity.


"I was ah, going to hunt and decided to make a detour here to check up on you."





A splitting headache hit Sheut again and he heard a woman screaming. The next thing he knew he was spread eagle on the floor of the room, the woman hovering above him, perfectly fine. He furrowed his brow and looked up at the woman, assuming she had been hurt.





"Why did you scream?"





If it wasn't her that screamed, then who was it. Was this an aftershock of what happened in the alley? Sheut tried to sit up, but his head swam and he laid back down feeling light headed. He closed his eyes because the light in the room was suddenly too bright, as dim as it was. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to go hunting today. Well, at least not alone he couldn't.





"Would you like to... would you like to go out hunting with me. I must do my duty for the Acedemy, yet I am in no position to go out alone."





He opened his eyes again to find the light in the room no longer glared in his eyes. His head was clear again and he sat up, rubbing his forehead. He was perfectly fine now. He cautiously stood, preparing to brace himself, yet he didn't falter. He looked at his body and then back to the woman, a confused look on his face.





"That is quite odd, I'm perfectly fine now."





----------------------------


@The Lady Kitsunerisu


----------------------------
 
Zevran looked at the Jackal, worried for his health as he finally got up. He appeared just fine now that he had gotten up, but there was no guarantee that his episode wouldn't happen again. She wasn't in the best of health herself, but she supposed that two damaged people made a whole. Her ears shifted to lay against her head when she looked over at the young one, concerned for him. She knew that he was much too young to go hunting, and too many dangerous things lived within the forest that would be more than happy to snatch away a Sharian child. She let out a sigh and nodded towards Shuet.


"I shall go with you. I am not unfamiliar with the hunt," she pointed Shuet towards the door, and when he looked confused she turned him by actually touching him and turned him. She then pushed him out of the door and closed the door. Then she went to the discarded baggage that she had carried from Kwovat. She then brought out her hunting gear which consisted of a sash that went around her bust, twisting in between her breasts once before tying in the back. It was enough to cover her. The next part of her outfit consisted of a skirt-like thing that had cloth that connected to the front and back to cover her, then the skin was slit down the front at each leg to give it plenty of room to move, and the back was slit from the tail down. It did just enough to cover her, but gave her complete freedom of movement. She then grabbed the staff that her father had given her. When she looked at the reflective object at the corner of the room she paused, her mind going blank.


"Fenris," she whispered to herself, suddenly growing sad. She had been so focused on the child that she had completely forgotten her wolf, her beautiful, ragged, dire-wolf. Her fists clenched and she gritted her fangs to keep from getting emotional, but that wolf had been with her for a long time, and she had just forgotten him. More likely than not she would never see him again.


She heard a rustling to the side and saw Jenesari staring at her with those innocent eyes, "What's wrong, Zevran?" He asked, concerned for her.


"Nothing, little one," she said, shaking her head to get the tears out of her eyes. She walked over to Jenesari and sat on the bed next to him, putting her arms around him, resting her chin on the top of his head. "I have to go for Shuet for a bit, will you stay here and wait for me?" She asked, handing him a bag of food. "If you eat all of this food before the end of the day I am not feeding you for a week," she said jokingly, ruffling his head as she got up from the bed.


"Don't leave," he said, setting the bag down on the bed.


"I have to. I'll be back tonight." She kissed the top of his head and headed out the door, quickly locking it behind her. She turned to Shuet and gave him a weak smile. "Shall we?"
 
Kearg and Minke


The Squeaky Wheel


----As the cold wet drink dripped from his beard Kearg could feel the effects of the contest settling in. Many patrons rudely pushed or hit him as they passed by, angered by their losses. They had thought that Kearg would've won that easily. Kearg loved it though, something about losing to Minke was unlike losing to anyone else. It was like watching a friend win, it didn't have the same taste that loss gave him. He was kinda glad she won or maybe the alcohol was just taking it's effect...he was probably drunk.


----A few hours later he found that himself and Minke were supporting each other as they tried to surmount the impossible task of climbing the stairs while drunk. Both still had a large mug in hand half full as their feet found each step after much effort. Giggling and laughing they eventually reached the top.


----"I thinnnk he said...third on the right." Kearg muttered as he regained his balance from the now really flat floor.


----"Mine eeeerrr yers?" Minke asked as she drank from her mug.


----"I don't...remember." Kearg replied as the stumbled forward. Soon they swung a door open only to scare a poor young lady who forgot to lock her door.


----"So sorry!" Kearg sputtered as he fumbled for the handle to close it.


----"HAHAHA!" Minke started, "Did ye see 'er face!? She's all, AAAUGH!"


----"AHAHAAHA!" They both laughed at the poor woman's reaction.


Finally when they did make it to their destination Minke and Kearg stumbled to the bed and threw themselves at it. Minke landed near the end of the bed and Kearg completely missed ending up on the floor below. They both laughed for a while.


----It wasn't too long before the alcohol began to wear thin. It wasn't gone, but it had began leaving. Minke popped her head up and looked to Kearg who was simply just looking up at the ceiling.


----"Ye always 'ad such nice fam'ly. Why'd ye leave Denos? An' why'd it 'ave te be de bleedin' Highlands? Buncha willow-winks de fookin' highlanders." Kearg looked at her and back to the ceiling, he wasn't sober enough to care to hide the past and she was a familiar form, sent from his past.


----"I had me a friend. The best friend one coulda ever asked for. Haha, we--uh we had this fight over a girl. He gave me this here scar." He pointed to the scar along his lips. "An' I took a big ol' bite outta his ear. Haha....." His laughter trailed off and Minke began to give more attention. This wasn't a story he told many, she was a bit more sober than Kearg so she could tell this was something sensitive for him.


----"Annen?" She asked. For a moment there was silence as she watched his eyes shift back in forth remembering. Tears soon came to his eyes which didn't really make Minke comfortable.


----"I couldn't save him... I couldn't I--" Kearg didn't care much to wipe his eyes as he took a breathe. Finally he shook it off and began, "We were huntin' and there was this house in the farmland. Bandits came and they were hurtin' them. We couldn't just sit there and watch, so we went in. They beat us--I held my own for a bit but, they beat us bad and we barely got free I don't even know what happened to the people inside all I knew was he was bleedin' bad and I wasn't gonna get back in time. We were hunters not fighters damn it! He was just laying there in my arms dyin' and all...so I prayed...I prayed for Syrae, I said I'd do anything. So she came and she told me to go kill'em. Every single of of'em. She took Jorden--my friend-- and I left. I don't know how, but I found somethin' in me--a kinda anger, a calm focused rage...and I found them. Syrae showed me their camp and I just went in. No thinkin' just insticts...I ripped them apart. Killed them with their own weapons in their own homes where they thought they were safe. It wasn't easy and..." He touched the large scar in the middle of his chest. "...they left their mark, but it wasn't enough. I killed them...I stood in blood, covered from head to toe in the blood of battle, Gah! I still remember that smell... I thought I had done it, but I heard them...the children and a few women were hidden in this...shack. I opened it and I tried...I tried to kill them, but I just couldn't do it. I saw their faces, they were so scared...I couldn't." Kearg sat in silence tears streaming down his face toward his ears and onto the floor. His eyes were open staring straight up at the ceiling. He could see their faces, he couldn't forget them. A moment more passed before Kearg sniffled and said, "And now they call me "the Red"...a name that will always remind me of the horror of that day. That's why I left. I found a Duender that would take me away. So she took me Hjaltland, and that's where I stayed." He took a moment, his mind had to catch up to him; remembering everything since then. His life in Hjaltland and the more recent events that had taken place there. "But you're right. They are a bunch'o willow-winks. Haha." It was a sad laugh, but it showed that he was coming around...it wasn't all bad. After all he was an optimist.
 

Kearg and Minke, The Squeaky Wheel

​




Kearg poured his heart out, laying flat on his back, tears streaming down his face in sorrow. Yet with all his emotion, the entire story barely plucked a heartstring with Minke, and she sat in dazed silence, watching, listening.

"Least 'e died well," she replied, having waited to the end. The comment would be little consolation, but she knew that it would've meant a lot to herself, and possibly to Jorden as well.

"Not old 'n grey, strugglin' te git out o' bed," the red haired woman continued.

"Sides, 'e'd never've wanted 'em lives on 'is 'ead. Y'did right," Minke kept on, trying to say something that would validate Kearg's actions, which she knew had been the right decision.

"At was a cruel fookin' trick she played on ye."

Maybe gossiping about one of the Aeons was a poor decision, but Syrae be damned, Minke never cared overmuch for her anyways, she let the lilyliver Duender talk too much for her.

"I don't-" Kearg began, trying to interject some thought or another, but there'd been enough of his weepiness for one night, and Minke only had so much patience. Not to mention if he kept at it for much longer she was sure he'd miss that ship he needed come dawn.

"Oi, y'done 'nough talkin' fer a night. Y'ought te git some sleep, dun wanna leave yer new friend te be goin' by 'isself,"

Sure as Huren's aim, somewhere in this hallway Alvar and the three-forkers were already asleep, as most patrons were like to be. As wonderful an opportunity as it was to see an old friend again, Minke knew that they wouldn't be able to stay up all the night chatting about days gone by and catching up, both had a long day coming.

"G'night," Minke muttered, rolling over to the corner of the bed, facing the wall it'd been pushed up against. She'd leave the other half of the bed and its interpretation to Kearg, if he wanted to sleep on it, she was sure nothing else would be happening, though as she stared at the wooden planks of the wall, she almost questioned why not; Keepers knew she'd spent worse nights.

Deciding not to think on the thought anymore, Minke screwed her eyes shut, though behind haunted lids, Kearg's story replayed itself again and again until she eventually fell asleep.

Kearg on the other hand, stayed where he was, thinking over what Minke had said.

"A cruel fookin' trick" she'd said, and thinking on it, it was. Even Syrae couldn't raise the dead, and there'd been no way that Jorden would've survived long enough for him to return, as he hadn't. The Aeon had asked him to kindly go and kill himself.

Of course he'd known it all along, but he'd just been so desparate at the time, so willing to cling to the lie like a drowning man to a raft amid stormy seas. Something about another person seeing the situation, and knowing he'd done right...

It wasn't the first time Kearg had been told his decision was just, but something about Minke saying it put him at ease, perhaps because of the way she'd treated him while they were children, perhaps just because she was a fellow lowlander, but he had no trouble falling into sleep that night, a deep and dreamless slumber.​
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Sheut stumbled into the hall and with a small chuckle he leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and waited for her. When she came out he stood up straight and motioned for her to follow him. Once they were outside of the Inn he led her through the streets back to the alley he had walked down earlier. He turned to her, looked around cautiously, then spoke quietly.


"Something is going on in this city. I decided to take this shortcut earlier, and there was this strange door. Some... thing... with hollow eye sockets whispered this odd question. I demanded to know what its business here was and next thing i know i blacked out and woke up in the alley, no sign of the door except for a strange symbol singed into the cobblestone."





They approached the spot where the door had once stood, the black marks of the symbol still there. Sheut knelt down and examined the sooty substance with his fingers. He sniffed it and found that it smelled exactly like the burn marks in his room.





"I returned to my room last night. I found my bard, Gates, dead on the floor. He had very precise cuts and incisions on him and his heart had been removed. This symbol was burned into the floor, much like this one is burned into the stones here. I also found this."





Sheut stood and took something from a fold in his hunting robes. He pulled out a small purple gem. It was a perfect sphere, roughly 2 inches in diameter (about 5cm).





"Amethyst. I don't know why it would be important, I just have this gut feeling that it is. Do you know anything of this stone?"
 
Soph'ana threw herself on the bed, exhausted from the harrowing journey that had taken the better part of a week, with almost no stops or chance to rest. She was surprised the horses had been able to keep the constant pace, steady as it was, though never very fast. This journey, along with the room, was all thanks to Miderenm's kindness and finances, which Soph had not totally taken for granted, as I'll prepares as she had come. The streets had been crowded, so much so that the carriage had come to a total stop, and they had had to drive it into an alleyway next to the tavern, where Miderenm had paid a room for them all.


It was not much to speak of, no real privacy, just a large hall-shaped rooms with a dozen beds lining the walls, the most inexpensive lodging, but none the most comfortable. Each resting area had a small dresser to store belongings in, but Soph merely tossed her bag under the bed, carefully, not to rattle the doll inside. She had chosen a bed next to the large glass-paned doors, leading out to a cozy balcony, complete with a set of chairs and a table.


The only other available beds were one right next to her ands few across the room. Algos and Mara each chose a bed opposite hers, but she smiled a little as Miderenm chose the one directly beside her own. He seemed to be an interesting fellow, she might want to know more about him given the chance, partly because he may know where she could go next to find out about how to save her sister, the other part... she wasn't sure. It wasn't any romantic attachment, she was sure, he didn't appear to be of her age or even her personality type, but she thought she might like to get to know him. His backstory, particularly regarding the Területs, might be something to hear. She was curious about why he would go so far out of his way to give them safe travel and now even lodging, what could he possibly do as a living in order to afford this or even have the idea to do so.


Soph got up from her bed, pulled her bag out from underneath it, removed a pad of paper and her pencils, stuffed them into one of her pockets, then walked around to his bed so he could see her speaking. "Say, Miderenm," she paused, not really sure how to say it without it becoming awkward, like a school girl talking to her teacher, "um, I saw they had some interesting drinks downstairs, would you like to get one?"


@The Empress of Ice


@theunderwolf


@Manoneno1
 
Almost the first thing which he did, was to put the grey mattress from his bed to lean against the wall next to it. He couldn't sleep on mattresses, as he have always slept on a hard ground, just a thin sheet between him and the ground. His habit has got him into amusing scenarios: once he woke when a man stepped on his leg, once a guard came to puzzle was he a hobo. He noticed himself falling to the sweet thoughts once again, guessing himself to look like an idiot, just standing in front of mattress, merely smiling.


He swiftly turned towards his wooden bed and took a sheet of his. The sheet seemed to be torn from the side which was supposed to be closed: he always slept inside it, and slowly tore it open with his small legs. Maybe I should get a new one, he puzzled in his mind: it was notoriously old, but he have always forgot to buy a new one. He was feeling weary, and was glad to finally get a long sleep, even it costed him more than excepted. But he couldn't leave three youngers on their own to beg for money, not at all. It would've been sinful to stop his generosity just suddenly and almost literally slam the door in front of them. Besides, the place wasn't expensive.


He sat down on the bed and was going to lie his head against the bed end to take a small nap, but Sop'hana interrupted him, him only managing to lean a bit backwards. The suggestion was tempting, even he was in a need of sleep. "Sounds good, I hope they have something interesting non-alcoholic. I'm not good with alcohol", he said with a smile. Usually when he takes a sip, he doesn't know where to stop. And usually the consequences weren't the best.


Miderenm got up from the bed smoothly, asking diplomatically if the others would join them. After two refusals, he shortly bowed and wandered to the downstairs. "It was a good suggestion, as we had a peak of the conversation coming", he mused and glanced her without a head movement. "I'm always glad to fix the thoughts about my tribe", he pointed out and moved his head a bit more as she saw her pencil and paper.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Brae waited patiently behind where the door would open, chain in paw. The plan, as it was, was simple. Exiting this rooms, and down the corridor, was another room. It held her weapons, cloak and crossbow. In that room was a port hole, one wide enough for her to easily manage to get through. Once through the port hole, she would drop into the water, swim a ways, come up and quickly make her way to the busier parts of the town, and hopefully find an inn in the process.


All this would be initiated once her captors opened the door once they docked.


Thinking back, Brae seethed at the fact that she was even in this mess. Two Sharian noble's children had been slinking about Nalor one night, with full intent, from what they'd been talking about, of finding some girl to have their way with, since they were nobles and it was their 'right' after all. When Brae'd confronted them, they attempted to run, and she'd put a bolt in one of their legs. Of course with a ship full of guards and a bag full of gold coins, it had been quite easy for them to bullshit that Brae had needlessly attacked them, and she found herself manacled in a ship for the ride to Shan Manrir to face justice.


Of course, justice, as it was, was the chain swinging loosely from Brae's grip, and it awaited the man that would open the door and unintentionally allow her release from the room.


Seconds later she heard the tell tale clink of a key in the lock let Brae know all she needed to. As the door swung open she swung the chain around the door and was satisfied with a meaty thud of manacle meeting face. Stepping around, Brae deftly and nimbly ducked between the flailing Sharian, blood gushing from what could only be a broken nose. Still, Brae didn't feel too bad.


Racing down the corridor of the gently swaying ship, Brae reached the room she needed to only to find that there was a guard inside. He seemed momentarily surprised to see him, and taking full advantage of that, she dodged past him and grabbed a cloak hanging next to hers from a peg. Throwing it like a net over the large Sharian's face, Brae kicked viciously at his knee, causing him to drop down on it. His head at a more accessible height, Brae drove her elbow into it hard enough to knock his head into the table. He fell, unconscious, and Brae quickly shut the door and pushed him in front of it while she gathered her personal belongings, folding her cloak into a pack, sheathing her small knife, and strapping her crossbow to her pack.


Then it was up and out of the wide set porthole, the easiest feat so far.


Dropping into the water below, Brae was glad she'd made a point to never come to fear water, and ensure that she herself knew how to swim. A few minutes later, she was racing along the docks, and a few more minutes after that she found herself dashing amongst the houses and in and out of alleys.


Turning into one particular alley, Brae ran headlong into a pair of massive Sharians(As far as the Shan Manrir Sharians went), one a male Jackal like beast, and the other a rather hyena-esque female. Both of them were easily about two feet taller than her, and the impact cause one of the straps of her hastily packed bag to come loose, spilling her cloak, fire starting kit, and other knick and knacks everywhere and causing her crossbow to likewise fall.


In fact, on the list of falling things, it seemed that she too was falling, backwards anyway, as her slight size and svelte build practically ricocheted off the well-muscled and solidly built female.


'This is either going to be bad, or really bad...' was all Brae could think.


@LupusDeUmbra


@The Lady Kitsunerisu
 
In the alleyway, it reminded her too much of her first nights in Kwovat. Trying to find work, trying to find shelter, only to find criminals and homeless people making their homes. She never truly liked going into alleyways because of this. She softly padded behind Sheut. Muscles rolled under his skin, and she was almost mesmerized by it. Sheut was nearly built in an unattractive way to her. She had never liked a very burly man, but he was just lean enough where she could look at him without being slightly disturbed by the mass of him. When they came to the place that he wanted to show her her gaze went to the etchings and the gem, focusing every thought just to see if she recognized any of it. It seemed familiar to her, though she couldn't quite place it.


Her focus had been so narrowed down into the strange scene before her that she didn't even hear the stomps of running feet. The feline Sharians were normally much smaller than the canine-based ones, and weighed lighter, even more so for the female felines. Her concentration wasn't broken when she bumped into her, but her concentration was broke when she heard the clattering of equipment falling onto the ground. Zevran moved quickly and extended her arm, grabbing onto the Sharian before she fell. She had caught her around the waist and pulled her to herself. She made sure she was stable before letting go. There was a slight sneer on her face from the pain of such a sudden action.


"What is your hurry?" She asked, a slight growl in her voice. The pain in her side was a dull throb that had been getting increasingly worse. Before too long she would have to sit down and rest. She heard Sheut walk to her side, settling down and looking down at the woman.


@Veirrianna Valentine
 
Brae had to bite back a startled yelp as the comparatively massive arm of the female Sharian wrapped around her waist. Thankfully, it was only to keep her from falling, and she quickly regained her footing. Stepping back, she cast her eyes up to see the contorted features of the woman as she spoke, growling out her question. It was enough to make Brae, with her size and such, realise she may have stumbled out of trouble and into some more.


Fidgeting nervously, her tail twitching and betraying her agitation, Brae shuffled her foot-paws for a second before answering.


"Just, um, running from couple of nasty Sharians."


As she spoke, she realised that these were a couple of Sharians, and her words could easily be misunderstood.


"Not you two though! Another couple, definitely not you two as a couple... Not implying you are together that is... unless you are, in which you make a wonderful... ehm... couple... please don't hurt me."


Sure, if needed Brae could out manoeuver and evade these two, but it would be at the cost of everything she owned. She just had to hope they were friendly, and that the female had a sore tooth or summat.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Sheut gazed down his long snout at the feline. He had not faltered when she barreled past him. He simply rose and moved over to block the alleyway on the woman's other side. Now, as he gazed at her, he could see that she was timid and ready to bolt. He spoke in a soft, serious tone.


"If there's trouble you should report it to the Academy. I would help you, but I am late for hunting duties and I am running out of time."





He looked at the woman beside him and addressed her, rather than the feline.





"I do believe we've seen enough of this alley. The day grows shorter and the shops close an hour before sundown."





Sheut started to walk down the alley, only stopping to gather the feline's belongings into a random, messy pile. He expected the woman would follow him and the feline would be on her way. He did not turn around to check, but rather walked straight through the city, through the city gate, and out into the open field. He took note of the sun growing higher in the sky. He guessed it was about 2 hours before midday. He was about 3 hours behind schedule with all these detours and he feared today's hunt would not please Teraze. He got to the treeline of the forest and perched in one of the higher limbs, out of sight. Only those who saw him climb the tree would know he was there.


--------------------------


@Veirrianna Valentine


--------------------------
 
Last edited by a moderator:
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 3 (members: 0, guests: 3)

Similar threads

Sora No Kami
A vicious dance with death (RP 1x1 based on the song "My R") TW: Self-loathing, Suicune
Replies
1
Views
93
Sora No Kami
Sora No Kami
Back
Top