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Snippet #2764364

located in The West, a part of Exalted: A Tale in the Time of Tumult, one of the many universes on RPG.

The West

A vast expanse of Ocean that stretches into infinity, broken only by scattered islands that grow fewer the farther one goes. Many myths tell of what lies beyond it, but few that venture that far return.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ioa Character Portrait: Ashen Sky Character Portrait: Astrid Grünewald Character Portrait: Lux Fiala Character Portrait: Calliope Lordes Character Portrait: The Artisan That Which Souls Cling
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The vessel had reached its destination, docking at a nearby wharf that was as lavishly decorated as the palace that Fakharu resided in. Artisan had never seen a better constructed jetty, and he couldn't help but admire its opulence. It wasn't long after docking that his slave came above deck carrying his belonging and.... another bag? He demanded while raising a querulous eye brow, "What, um... Why do you have that?"

The slave shrugged and mumbled out, "This cat below deck wouldn't let me leave without it. It was... kind of intimidating..." It was then that noticed Artisan a small black cat, Astrid, who somehow looked smug even though she was a simple housecat, following the slave with a very pleased strut. "Uh...Huh... Well nothing for it I suppose." Refusing to explain that even he was afraid of the cat, he allowed the slave who was visibly straining under the weight, to carry her belongings.

The slave began to disembark with his master, and though the slave was too remiss to really understand what was happening, his master began to grow a shade of red as he noticed the activity going on between Ashen Sky and Lux. Though one might mistake it for embarrassment, it was sheer rage that colored him as such. Ever since his own loved ones had been violently torn from Creation, the Deathknight harbored a grudge against anyone else experiencing such bliss. Artisan made a mental note of the situation and cataloged it for later, in case they actually were lovers. Such love certainly wouldn't survive the Underworld... He could feel the desire to end them boiling in his heart, and fighting it back was bringing the Great Curse upon him. Just in time to make introductions too, oh joy.


Astrid trotted up from below deck, finding that most of the party had already began to depart the boat. Following the slave that she had yowled into submission, and refusing to leave her feline form, she hopped onto the railing and evaluated her options. Lux and Ashen had clumsily fell into each other, each one seeming to grow more awkward than the other with each action. She hated the Deathknight, so he was out of the question and Ioa seemed too bubbly to be a comfortable ride. Disregarding them, Astrid took note of the pink lady carrying herself with grace and dignity. Deciding upon a perch, the housecat leaped onto Calliope and draped herself around her shoulders, stomach touching the nape of the Northerner's neck. With a lazy yawn, she let out a mewl of appreciation.

Ashen and Lux seemed to be getting rather intimate with each other, which made her idly think whether or not Lux would bear strong Beastmen. Which led her to pondering whether Ashen had any such children in Creation. Certainly as a male he must have many, though she envied not his gender. It was obvious who the superior gender was, just look at Calliope and herself.


Ever so carefully, Artisan hoisted himself onto the ship's railing and hopped onto the pier. Fakharu's entourage began to approach, five women that were each beautiful in their own way, and struggling not to laugh at the comedy act playing out before them. Tucking a stray lock of ghostly white hair behind his ear, he approached them with a greeting and began formerly introducing them all, albeit a bit strained. "Greetings Nāgasāni, I am The Artisan That Which Death Clings, the two lovebirds behind me are Lux Fiala and Ashen Sky, respectively," gesturing to each of them in turn. "The exotic beauty there is Calliope Lordes, cat around her shoulders being Astrid Grunewald. And finally the rambunctious youth here is Ioa.

With a smile, the pale man finished, "We're all pleased to be of assistance to Lord Fakharu. You may lead the way, and we'll render what service we can." After all, SOMEONE had to be the diplomat in this situation, otherwise they'd upset one of the seven censors. Somehow that course of action didn't quite appeal to Artisan. Though his resonance was getting in the way, he felt as if he did an adequate job.