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Riktor Fortis

"Within the confines of reason true madness dwells."

0 · 323 views · located in Khassus

a character in “As The Dragons Slumber”, as played by Bradok187

Description

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Name: Riktor Fortis
Alias: Revenant
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Race: Human/Wraith
Height: 6'

Appearance: Standing just over six feet tall and with a trained and hardened body, Riktor is a prime example of what a warrior should look like. His dark brown hair cascades down his head framing his face that all too often wears a weary expression and the look of yearning within pale blue eyes. Upon his body the worn leather breastplate bearing the insignia of an eagle adorns his upperbody concealing the chailmail and silk shirt beneath it. Upon his lowerbody finely crafted pants and riding boots have faded and worn down bearing the marks of many travels upon them. A black hooded cloak conceals his body and protects him from the elements of nature and a longsword rests strapped to his hip.

Personality: Riktor is a man that enjoys greatly his own privacy. He can often be seen alone deep in self meditation facing his inner demons and queries. This however does not mean Riktor is not a social creature, for there is nothing he enjoys more than a fully packed tavern and a minstrel's song. The terms of loyalty and honor have never had a place in Riktor's being, instead Riktor believes in self preservation and self advancement. Riktor is also internally driven by his quest to discover the mysteries behind his Wraith essence, and he will do anything to further his goal.

Combat Style: Riktor is highly skilled im swordplay preferring the use of a longsword above all others. His fighting style uses a combination of close quarters brawling mixed in with timed and precise sword strikes for optimized offensive and defensive capabilities. He is highly durable but prefers a quick evasive fighting style to a head on battle. He has also been known to use his Wraith abilities in combat to increase his speed and power. Though not a conventional form of magic Riktor is able to channel the Wraith essence into a short ranged blast. It is not very lethal but in the right circumstances it is incredibly effective.

Wraith Form: Riktor's Wraith form is not quite what it sounds like. He is in fact not a wraith or in any way connected to one despite popular belief. The Wraith form gets its name from the deep blue spiritual light that envelopes Riktor whenever it is activated. The Wraith Form's ability alters Riktor's perception of reality making him more aware of his surroundings while increasing his speed and strength. The degree in which he uses theses powers and the duration in which they are active determine the strain that is put on Riktor.

History: The first memories that Riktor is able to recall are of him washing upon upon the shores often Draust. His body battered and bloody, not able to recall anything except his own name and of the mysterious wraith like abilities he possessed. He was young then, but he was never frightened, always he searched for the answers of who he was but never recovering any leads. After years of fruitless searching and with increasing conflict within Draust, Riktor would eventually put aside his search and pick up a blade. Coin became easy to come by with the skills Riktor possessed, and when one puts aside his morals for his own betterment gold flows like water.

Years passed and Riktor had amassed a reputation for being one of the most effective sellswords in the land. His ghost like abilities and effectiveness as a killer earned him the name of Revenant across Draust but a lull of peacefullness had fallen over the land leaving men like Riktor out of work and unwanted by the locals. Seeing that he would no longer prosper as a hired sword he decided that he should once again take up the quest of searching for his memories. Once again months upon months of fruitless searching had left Riktor disheartened, however upon hearing rumors of a lodestone surfacing a new vigor fell over him and he set out in search of the mysterious object that may have the power unlock his past, or atleast bring a pretty penny if it cant.

So begins...

Riktor Fortis's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis
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The early morning sun casts a faint light upon the waterfront of Saridur as the merchants begin setting up their booths to hock their wares to passing patrons. As the crowd begins to form within the bazaar the streets seem to disappear within a sea of people mirroring the actual sea lined with ships instead of merchants. Amongst the growing masses Riktor moves towards the docks in search of a ship to help him reach his goal, the lodestone. It had only been a week or so ago since he had heard the rumors spreading throughout Draust causing everyone with enough guile to begin boasting on how they would acquire the precious gem. Riktor didn't know if these rumors would bear fruit, but if a lodestone was out there he would make it his.

Riktor slowly moved through the crowd and made his way out of the bazaar and into the harbor, it was here that he intended to find a particular vessel that donned the name Anya. He had heard from his friend and fellow sellsword Jevan that this ship would be moored at the harbor here in Saridur today and it would be very likely for them to barter passage to the Naua Te archipelago for the right price. A half-cocked grin spread across Riktor's face when he emerged from the crowd and arrived at the dock for it seemed Jevan had beat him there. Leaned against a post ,drinking what Riktor could only suspect to be some sort alcoholic beverage from a flask, Jevan stared out towards a ship, the Anya. Riktor removed his hood and began approaching Jevan, and without turning to Riktor Jevan began to speak.

"Well there she sits Riktor, our ticket to power and riches beyond belief. No more dangerous battles, no more petty contracts, im talking nobleman type rich." Jevan takes another swig from his flask before finally turning to face Riktor.

"And here i was thinking you liked playing the part of a dashing rouge. Best not let the girls back home here you talk like that, they may find someone else to swoon over."[i] Riktor said as he approached his friend on the dock. [i]"I assume thats the ship then?"

"Yeah thats it, they've been moving stuff about all morning it seems they are already expecting some passengers. That may make this difficult." Jevan said taking another swig from the flask before rousing himself from the post and beginning to walk towards the Anya. "Ill let you handle the arrangements, you've always been a better talker."

Nodding to his companion, Riktor and Jevan begin the short trek down the dock to the ship. The Anya was magnificent. The sunlight of the early morn reflected off the heavy guns lining the deck, the ship itself was an imposing sight in it's own right. Riktor was no stranger to sailing but never before had he set foot on such a vessel. As they drew closer Riktor could see various others scattered upon the deck, most likely crewmen, but there were two that immediately stood out when he was close enough to see them clearly. Riktor grimaced for a moment then turned to Jevan who had a slight snarl on his face as well.

"Bloody Elves..." Riktor said to himself as they drew closer to the ship.

Elves had never been to Riktor's liking. Their conflicting views on the world and their notable skill in combat made them more than just a passing nuisance, and on more than one occasion had they interfered with his plans. Despite their obvious dislike for Elves Riktor and Jevan had no other options for traveling to their destination. Riktor approached the ship and began to ascend the boarding plank causing a few eyes to wander his way.

"Hail there! Might i speak to the captain of this vessel?" Riktor finally spoke, eyes searching the ship for the man in charge of this fine vessel.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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Adrian continued to calmly sip the rest of his drink, an amused glint in his eyes as he listened to Nimba's rant. Her antics were, to say the very least, extremely entertaining at times. For all her talk, and considerable bite, he knew she was just blowing off steam. She had a wild imagination, and one that tended to work at overdrive at the worst of times. She did manage to calm down after a few minutes, and that was just shortly before he caught sight of someone strolling up the gangplank. Damaya met the man, and moments later the two were coming toward him. Furrowing his brow quizzically, Adrian realized he was elf, and a well dressed one at that. Dark hair, but skin too light to be of the seagoing variety. There was something about him that made Adrian a tad wary, but not to any degree that would effect his demeanor, of course. Being said, what was this man doing just walking onto his ship uninvited? A bit of sailor's courtesy is all he was asking for. He met them halfway, and just as Damaya was about to speak the other elf cut her off. Adrian noted a hint of irritation in the chief mate's face, but she said nothing and politely closed her mouth. Brave, at least, this newcomer was.

"Requinn Voss," he introduced himself respectfully, extending his hand to Adrian, which he swiftly accepted, "renowned author and archaeologist. You may have read one of my books?" First atop his mind was that no, he had never heard of Voss before. Not as if he would have said so, at least not rudely. "It doesn't matter, I heard that you plan to set sail for Naua Te, and I'd like to book passage, if it isn't too much trouble. I can pay my way, just name your price." Adrian smiled, and though is was nondescript in its meaning it centered upon an inkling suspicion of the stranger's intention. An archeologist headed to a place where a lodestone was said to rest, more so in the corpse of a city many thousands of years old? Much too fitting to be coincidental. During Voss' speech, Adrian had taken the liberty of inspecting him more closely. Upon doing so, he realized that by his eyes and skin, Requinn had to have been a High Elf. Thus, his use of a cane was most assuredly not for any physical aid.

Pushing that little matter to the side for now, Adrian returned the greeting with equal graciousness, "Welcome aboard, Mr. Voss. I am Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof, Captain of the Anya."

He could not go any further, as just then a barking voice caught his attention: "Hail there! Might i speak to the captain of this vessel?" It came from a gruff looking man, standing just a little ways ahead of a second.

Adrian and Damaya's eyes met briefly, their expressions for only a moment turning nearly deadpan. Internally wondering whether or not his ship had been mistaken for some sort of pleasure vessel, Adrian exhaled and turned to Voss, "Excuse me a moment, sir." He motioned to Damaya to follow as he walked around the first potential passenger and toward the next. "Place a guard at that ramp," he ordered in a flat tone. Damaya nodded, and broke away to snag a candidate. Reaching the man at the head of the gangplank, Adrian- ever composed- asked, "Good morning. I am Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof, Captain of the Anya. Is there something I could help you with?" Something out of his peripherals catching his eye, Adrian redirected his gaze for a moment. A crease formed slowly in his brow. There, on the docks, were two of the Narans- and one was a very, very large snake. It looked as if his scheduled guest had arrived.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof
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Uncertain of his current situation and set an edge by not one but two Elves, a hint of irritation could be seen scrawled across Riktor's brow. Jevan and himself had of course expected to run into a few of their ilk once they reached Naua Te but there were two strewn across of the deck of the Anya, and one appeared to be part of the crew. Riktor's thoughts however were interrupted as a man broke away from a brief conversation with one of the elves and approached him. The man approaching had a sort of authoritative swagger about him, and once he barked out orders to place guards on the gangplank Riktor's suspicions were confirmed, he was indeed the captain they sought. He seemed to be middle aged at best, but seemed to be impressively in shape. When Riktor could finally see him clearly the word he would have picked to describe the captain would more than likely be pirate, for it seemed a certain intensity loomed about him.

"Good morning. I am Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof, Captain of the Anya. Is there something I could help you with?" The man spoke when he finally came close enough, a certain regality hanging upon his accented words.

Extending his hand towards the captain Riktor began his attempt to secure passage upon the Anya. "And a good morning to you as well Captain Màstoof. I am Riktor Fortis and this is my companion Jevan. We hail from Druast, not far from your ports of Nãsk if i do not mistake your origins." Riktor was unsure if mentioning Druast was a food idea or not. Only being known for its constant infighting and whores the name might have put a sour taste in the mouth of Màstoof, however noting Jevan's and his own appearance it was unlikely he would have believed them to be anything more than sellswords. "We have a contract on Naua Te and would like to charter passage if at all possible." Of course the contract bit was a blatant lie, but announcing that your searching for a lodestone would be bad business for everyone so Riktor was pleased with the words he chose.

Riktor let his mind linger for a moment before turning his thoughts back to his surroundings. The players were gathering. Despite their clever lies and the many ruse they cast upon themselves all those descending upon the unsuspecting Naua Te were after the same thing as Riktor himself, the lodestone. For better or worse Riktor would try to make it his, no matter who stood before him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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Green eyes regarded the rising sun without a trace of preoccupation. Appearances aside, the farthest thing from Kryssis' mind was to dwell upon the spectacle of dawn. It was just the most prominent thing that captured her attention. Even that lasted for only a moment, and then she was walking again. She was relaxed, as evident by the way her hands rested on the pommels of her swords. Not a position from which to draw them, although some of the people she passed by didn't seem to take it into account. On the whole they just ignored her, which was good. Undue attention wouldn't serve any positive purpose. She was already having a slow enough time moving through the early morning market. The extra years had at least allowed her to train, especially in settings like cities where she'd previously had no experience. Ducking and weaving through the crowds, judging peoples' movements to quickly respond with her own. She still didn't like these crowded areas. In general, she didn't care for cities at all. They were too soft and too busy, and most of the people there were fools. Pampered, weak and ignorant. Just looking around her she gauged that she could massacre many of the citizens around her before any guards showed up. By then, with how many dark corners and alleyways there were, she would be gone by the time they did. If she wanted to leave, anyway. She probably would have stayed and fought, wanting to test just how good at their jobs these servicemen were.

Just a little nostalgic woolgathering, she relented with an inaudible sigh, and pushed onward. As much as she disliked this, Kryssis was in one of those situations where it would be best to push her way through her disdain if she wanted to return to a even a remote sense of normality. Because it was either that, or she remain on this path that led to gods knew where. When she finally emerged from the tangle of bodies, she found herself on the edge of an equally busy port district. Wooden latices reaching out in all directions, early hauls of fish, crates and chests of whatever had been brought to sell. Not what she was interested in. She wanted a ship taking passengers, one that would get her across the ocean. The salty breeze assaulting her was, at this point, not new to her. She didn't mind it, but didn't much care for it either. She carried on down the docks, eyes roaming the assorted vessels for any potential choices. After several minutes, she finally spied one where it looked like people were boarding. Of course, that was only the second thing she'd noticed. The first and foremost was just how many damned guns there were. An impressive array, no doubt. She knew enough to realize that no mere civilian galley would have that kind of compliment, nor build. That was a warship.

Rolling her neck, she set out toward it. There was a man stood just near the boarding plank, and another at its head speaking to a man wearing fine, black clothing. She figured he must be the captain, and approached the ship cautiously, keeping an eye out for anything.. remiss, she supposed. She paused at the foot of the plank, not out of courtesy, but resigning herself to listen for the moment.




Nimba skittered back when Damaya returned, bearing a finely clothed elf along with her, this time. She frowned, pensively, and seated herself back on the railing of the ship to see what happened. When he introduced himself, stating that he was apparently some well known writer, Nimba - not realizing she was matching Adrian's line of thought - softly murmured, "Not a clue." She found it funny how people could be so presumptuous about their perceived fame. That usually meant you had money, and if his clothes were any indicator then he certainly did, and quite a pretty penny to his name! In that case, she figured, stop flouting it and spend some already! Setting gripping the rail with both hands, she leaned back some and turned her eyes behind to the dock just in time to see two men approaching the ship. "Oh, he's gonna love this," she snickered.

As Adrian took his leave of Requinn, Nimba hopped down and decided to tag along, flashing a cheeky smile at the elf on the way by. At the last second she changed her mind, and followed behind Damaya. "I didn't realize we were running a yom'tei shaba. What's wi-" She came to an abrupt halt when the woman threw her a curious glance. Nimba sighed, "Basically party boat. You know, something where p-"

"I'm well aware of what you mean, Nimba," she responded sharply. "We're more than able to take on passengers, and people would prefer to travel safely over open water." Damaya shook her head, "What could be more inviting than a vessel made to survive open combat?"

The Yi Aba huffed, "They'd better know our rates are high, then."

"And that they'll be getting their money's worth in dinner?" Not even a grin from the woman, but her tone did the job just as well.

Nimba narrowed her eyes, "That.. you.. wey'ha mo bado." She spat, jabbing a finger at the elf. She quickly turned back around and tromped across the deck, more or less the way she'd come, stopping just a few feet away from the gangplank to lean against the side of the ship. Twice so far in the space of an hour she's had to cool off. She was starting to feel like this was a very bad idea. Just as that crossed her mind, she looked off and spotted quite the sight: a Naran. An upper body that looked like a human woman, but instead of legs she had a very long black tail. A heavy groan escaping her lips, Nimba grumbled, "About time."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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"Welcome aboard, Mr. Voss. I am Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof, Captain of the Anya."

Of course, Requinn already knew his name. He had done his research on the man before stepping into the light. Hailing from Nàsk, the captain had caught Requinn's interest two years earlier for retrieving a lodestone for the queen of Nàsk, and he had been trying ever since to get an agent inside the queen's court for access to that very stone, though thus far, to no avail. There could be no doubt that the captain doubted his story, and though it was embellished, it was certainly not completely false. Requinn had indeed written a few books on magic and military tactics, though they were published centuries earlier, and he was, in some respects, an archaeologist, as the study of lodestones inevitably led to the study of ancient cultures. The important thing was that the captain believed him to be a little full of himself, a little unorthodox, but generally harmless, and to that end, he shook the captain's hand just a little too firmly, and held on for just a little too long. Adrian seemed to be the type of man that paid attention to the details, much like Requinn himself, and it was the small things that mattered the most.

Requinn was about to respond with thanks, when a voice interrupted:"Hail there! Might i speak to the captain of this vessel?" Requinn glanced in the direction it came from, spying a pair of human men boarding the ship as the first of the two spoke. Mercenaries, by the way they dressed and carried themselves, but Requinn knew better than to assume anything based solely on appearance. No one found this ship by chance. Like Requinn, they were looking for it. He reconsidered the necessity of undertaking this venture in person, but reminded himself that he couldn't afford to be cautious when a lodestone was within his grasp. On the newcomers, Requinn figured that as sellswords, their loyalty could be bought, and he was good at buying things. Adrian politely excused himself from the conversation to address the mercenaries, to which Requinn nodded in understanding before turning his attention away from the men, just in time to catch a young girl brush past him, giving him a mischievous grin.

The girl was a Yi Aba, a people Requinn was actually quite familiar with. It was a Yi Aba caravan that he traveled with for a while after leaving Rexia, and though he never understood many of their customs, he did feel a sense of kinship. After all, they became wanderers after their home was taken from them, much like Requinn himself. In part because of his fondness for the Yi Aba, and in part because he had nothing more important to do, he glanced after the girl, who had followed Damaya a short distance. Either she wasn't aware, or didn't care that she was still within earshot, as she spoke irreverently about Requinn and the other guests, though Damaya quieted her concerns. The girl ardently exclaimed that their guests should pay a high price for passage, and Damaya countered that as well, sending the Yi Aba plodding back, defeated. She leaned herself against the rail, looking rustled. Requinn made his way over, silent in step in spite of the cane, and lightly tapped the girl on the shoulder.

" 'Anger is as a stone cast into a hornet's nest...' At least, according to the philosopher whose name I can't seem to recall at the moment." Requinn spoke in a friendly tone, leaning off of his cane and onto the railing beside Nimba and offering a warm smile. He traced her gaze down to the docks to see two Narans, one Naralin and one Naraga. Wonderful. We'll be transporting a giant snake.
He turned his gaze back to Nimba.
"The first mate called you Nimba. Lovely name, it is. I'm Requinn Voss. I suspect you overheard me introduce myself to your captain, but I'm a firm believer in proper introductions." He bowed slightly, and continued with a chuckle. "...And you shouldn't worry overmuch about preparing fine meals, at least for me. I am not picky."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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#, as written by Juular
The morning brought such a calming air with it. Sometimes he pondered whether or not the lands shielded by the dark of night were refreshed by the coming of each new day, the troubles of the old cast away. Fanciful musings, but there was hardly anything wrong with that, now was there? Balor sat on the floor of a balcony overlooking a stretch of the city Saridur, pipe stem between his teeth and hat resting beside him, the low hanging tip nearly sagged to the floor by its own weight. The rich, scented smoke curled up through the air, forming into dizzying waves through which the sunlight shone brighter than on its own. He moved the stem, and turned his eyes back down to a leather bound book resting in his lap. The words scrawled in a messy hand, ink soaked into the thick yellowing parchment, were little more than thoughts and observations. His daydreams chronicled with care, simply for the sake of putting them down. They would be gone on their own from his mind in time, anyway. It was little more than his own private exercise, and one he took to often. He had first taken to doing so.. oh, what was it? Four hundred? No. Five hundred years ago? Possibly, give or take. It had been around the time of the great war against the Rexian Empire, but he could not remember exactly when. The war being the catalyst made the most sense, given how enormous an event it had been. Then, with a slight smile, he closed the book, tucked it into a bag sat opposite the hat's position, and decided it was time to go.

He decided to take a path leading through the city's bazaar. It was narrow, and quite crowded, but he enjoyed the energy. The color. He quietly observed the citizens going about their daily routines, which included the merchants in their stalls. He paused to hear a man proclaiming the potency of his poultice. Balor looked shortly at some of the mixture resting in a bowl. While he was not the most accomplished alchemist, preferring spells to physical magics and medicinals, he thought it looked like little more than damp soil mixed with red pepper and mineral oil. With a chuckle in his throat, he continued through the market. The first stop was not the last, and soon he found himself looking over stalls selling fruits and vegetables, beautifully crafted jewelry, and even finely woven rugs. He rarely purchased from such vendors, what he truly enjoyed about them was the character they brought to a city. The different people milling about, the scent of fresh food, and the many sights and sounds all packed into such a small space. He appreciated the personality of it all. Amidst them, they saw nothing but an old man and his walking stick taking an early morning stroll through the market. Such anonymity humbled him, and made him feel even more relaxed within the multitude. It was not his desire to be any less than what he was, but it did remind Balor that he was still just a mortal man standing among many others. It was something he never forget, and truly hoped he never would.

When he at last broke through the undulating currents of the bazaar, Balor turned his gaze upon a line of ships. While there were several that seemed like they might fit his purpose, they were not what he was looking for. He knew his ship when it caught his eye, and he set off for it at a comfortable pace. Of course he was not the only one, he rarely was on these sorts of "outings". The first, mostly because of their size, was almost certainly a Bosphorean. He'd met only a few in his time, and they had all been strikingly alien to most other races in frame of mind. Then there was a woman clothed in leather and fur, two swords at her sides. There was something familiar about her, and something sinister- having not quite to do with her, but a presence.. lingering. Another two, possibly mercenaries by their dress, had arrived as well. Lastly, two Narans looked to be approaching the ship as well. He thought he saw a High Elf already boarded, stood near the side of the ship speaking to a girl obviously of Yi Aba descent. Finally there was a man whom he immediately pegged for the captain. The ship was very clearly from Nàsk, and this man's clothes and demeanor struck him as highly reminiscent of that nation's people. Yes, this was most certainly the right ship.

Balor emptied the last dregs of ash from his pipe, tucked it away, and strode toward the vessel: which, as he noticed, had been named Anya. "Good morning," he proclaimed in his thick, rumbling voice while setting foot onto the boarding ramp. He dipped his head to the captain, "Forgive me for interrupting, I hate to be a bother. I was wondering if perhaps your ship would be headed for the isles of the Sea Elves? You see, I've heard rumors that there might be a lodestone hidden there, and I would very much like to discover whether or not these tales are true." He smiled warmly at the captain, not for a moment concerned that he had just laid out plainly his intentions. This was a scene he'd played in many a time before, and he had long ago abandoned all pretense otherwise.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala Character Portrait: Jag of Bosphorous
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Adrian turned his eyes upward, aiming them at the heavens, and in the confines of his thoughts he wondered if the gods were doing this to him on purpose. And if so, then why? Just... why? Wasn't he a devout man? Okay, well, honestly maybe not all that much, but the point still kind of stood. He lowered his gaze to the docks, running his eyes over the assorted sights. It helped calm him down whenever he started feeling irritated, or weighed down by something. He saw men hauling crates, a family disembarking, guards on patrol, a fisherman unloading his catch, a priest in a red robe, three sailors playing liar's dice, and some early morning drunks staggering across the docks. Just getting his head working, his thoughts moving instead of stagnating on whatever was bothering him, did the trick every time. Like going for a jog to get your blood pumping, and it was an invaluable exercise.

A woman then appeared, he noticed her moving from the corner of his eye. She did not ascend the gangplank, but merely stood there, palms on the pommels of her swords. If he'd not known better, Adrian would have said this woman was one of the Sidheghul. She certainly fit the descriptions stories had given. That wasn't possible, though. They'd been wiped out years ago. He only passed his gaze across her for a moment, but what he saw he liked. She may have been rough and dirty, and in barbaric dress, but that didn't change the fact that she had softer features. What wrong was there in admiring them? Adrian certainly couldn't find any. She had a warrior's air about her: lean muscle, war paint and a sharp look in her eyes fit to match her blades, he was sure. Bestial, yet beautiful. Definitely dangerous. He could imagine she'd make a thrilling chase. Likely a hard one, but that made it all the more fun!

Just seconds later, another approached his ship. A suppressed grimace was quickly replaced by a sense of curiosity. Was that... could it be? Adrian more than suspected that this tall, impressively hulking figure wrapped in thick armor was none other than Bosphorean. He'd heard of them, before. What else could they be? The tales certainly did them justice, at the least. One would not have to be a genius to assume that such a being was capable of doing quite a lot of damage. Very deadly, indeed. Also very large. He mused that this one would have to duck quite a bit below deck. A rather amusing thought, that. He'd need to be cautious around this one, for sure. Afraid? Far from it. He had no real reason to be, for what he could tell. Definitely cautious.

Adrian's eyes darted off to the docks again, once again landing on the one who'd been paid for in advance. Orders handed down from the Queen herself, filtered through the Arbiters and their agents all the way to a trusted courier and into Adrian's hands. The large sum of Naran gold helped, too. Even if he had doubts as to the intentions of the others, he most certainly carried none for her. Naran nobility looking for travel to Naua Te after a lodestone was reported to be there? Blatant as far as he was concerned. Then, just before he could say anything to these newcomers, an old man with a long beard and sporting a walking stick made his way up the gangplank. Adrian had seen a few wizards in his time, and this man struck him as one of their ilk. He had a kindly smile on his face and a spark to his eye as he said, "Forgive me for interrupting, I hate to be a bother. I was wondering if perhaps your ship would be headed for the isles of the Sea Elves? You see, I've heard rumors that there might be a lodestone hidden there, and I would very much like to discover whether or not these tales are true."

So, here he was. Already aboard his ship was a High Elf who most likely sought the lodestone. These two mercenaries before him could hardly be here for any other reason. The barbarian and the Bosphorean? Like the others, for what other conceivable purpose could they possibly be headed to Naua Te? He had no doubts about the Naraga, and was certain she would hide the truth as well. Then out of the blue comes this old man, and his words were nothing more than the abject, unadulterated truth. Adrian chuckled softly to himself. He decided straightaway that he liked this man, whoever he was. Stepping down onto the ramp himself, Adrian politely patted the mercenary's shoulder as he passed, and extended his hand to the old wizard, "Welcome, sir. I believe that could be arranged." Then, turning his attention the group at large that had gathered, Adrian proclaimed, "So, you all want passage on my ship? I hope you can pay. And are willing to work for your stay."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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As the two Naran approached the ship that would be ushering them to their destination, several figures came into sight. Several humans in varying amounts of clothing, a "High" Elf in savage drab, and what looked to be a mobile mountain who'd lost its way and wound up at the docks. The humans--the old one, the painted one, the one with the hair--were all, as humans generally are, uninteresting as far as savages go. The Elf was a contemptible mass of flesh that would probably be flung overboard en route for making some smug comment about how great his empire was, forgetting that it fell apart the very moment it fought something competent. The human shaped boulder, though, that was something to look at. You generally didn't see something of its size milling about savage cities, and here it was, peering at the ship meant for Sarasa.

While Ravadhi's attention was on the captain of the ship--Arian or Adrian, something like that--as he addressed this collection of supposed passengers, Sarasa didn't hear or care what he had to say. Her attention was on the aforementioned mountain that stood near the ship, with her mind wondering what it was. A tuskless Naraji? A Naraka that has lost its horn? A Geir? By the time she had had enough of her own inner musings, the two Naran had reached the assmebly of oddities played out before the ship's ramp. Ravadhi's posture hadn't changed since entering the city, and his only concern, being the only one with a reserved place on the damn ship unlike all these random savages, chuckled at the words of the captain. He would quite like to see barbarians and old men and High Elves scrubbing the floors for their lack of foresight.

Sarasa, finally bringing herself to pay attention to her surroundings that weren't eight feet of armor, brought her body down to a more humanoid level to whisper into the ear of her rigid protector. "What is that standing there?" She peered back at the figure that had caught her eye, before quickly turning towards the Naralin, expectant of an answer.

"That is a Bosphorean, a giant from the wastelands." He looked about, expecting someone to come to greet their guests and take them to their room. "They're more respectable than most savages, but they lack any of the reason that could take them beyond such a state. What it's doing so far from its blasted home I haven't the slightest idea."

As Sarasa looked towards the mountain that now had a name applied to it, she grasped the silken rags that covered her head and put overhanging hood back by her shoulders. It had been noisily flapping with the poisoned breeze and her hair was beginning to stick to her back, desperate to be set free of the savage clothing, and so it was. She would still restrain herself from actually tearing the entirety of the cloth that covered her body until she had reached her quarters on the ship, as her sister and Ravadhi had told her to, but every second spent thinking about it made her body squirm. The street behind Sarasa became hazardous as her tail began swaying erratically, preventing people from coming with fifteen feet of her and keeping any other spur-of-the-moment passengers from showing up from this direction.

Noticing this, Ravadhi breached his way through the gathering crown with Sarasa, tail consciously restrained to prevent knocking anyone off the docks, and approached the ramp. "I'll assume that doesn't apply to those who've already paid for passage onto your ship, Captain. As such, I would like to take my lady aboard while you deal with these people, if you wouldn't mind making way and having someone lead us to our quarters."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof
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A slight breeze blow across Riktor's face and the sound of water lapping against the hull of the ship mixed in with the musings of it's motley crew. A smile spread across his face as he thought back to his time aboard the river barges of Draust during the early days of his career, though in comparison the Anya was far larger and a great deal less rowdy. Past Captain Màstoof Riktor could see the Elven man speaking to a woman, Yi aba by the look of her, and making himself at home aboard the ship. He must have already secured his passage which meant one less spot for Jevan and himself, and one more possible competitor. The captain looked upwards towards the sky and shook his head nonchalantly, as if cursing his current situation. Putting a hand on Riktor shoulder the man then moved past him without a word or passing phrase, not even returning the handshake offered to him. No, instead he stepped past Riktor and Jevan both and began speaking to an elderly gentleman that had strolled up the boarding plank behind the them, and if the captain's dismissal of Riktor's words was not bad enough the decrepit old fool goes and blurts out that he is searching for a lodestone in Naua Te. Not that everyone didn't already know the rumors but the less people searching the better. It was then the captain showed his bravado and gave his little speech to all those gathered around his humble vessel.

"So, you all want passage on my ship? I hope you can pay. And are willing to work for your stay."

So Riktor's first assumption of the man was correct, he was a pirate afterall. He had the ship and the power. Not many ships travel to Naua Te, therefore he could name his price and use his passengers for labor at his leisure. It was of no consequence to Riktor however, for he was use to this sort of treatment. It was then Riktor spotted the various others dotted amongst the waterfront that seemed to be converging on the Anya. It become ever so more apparent to Riktor that his journey had be increasingly more entertaining as more potential passengers emerged, and among them were a great deal of personages of importance.

Standing out the mosy to Riktor was the young woman attired in dark furs and leather straps. Hands resting upon the pomel of her swords and a graceful ferocity shown upon her face. Riktor had travelled many places in his lifetime and met many different people, yet he could not connect her to any peoples he had encountered on past journeys. She could prove to have a very interesting story indeed.

Second to catch Riktor's gaze was the hulking mass of armor standing amongst the others with an almost statue like appearance. Riktor was almost certain that this creature was a Bosphorean, and though he had never met one in person the reputation of these creatures preceded itself.

Last was the she snake. A Naran, Naraga maybe? Well whatever her official name the she snake's servant barked something back towards the captain about prearranged passage and moved past the others there, as well as Riktor. Riktor flashed a toothy grin and shook his head slightly. Of course the Anya would have had an official passenger, why else would it be sailing to Naua Te? Riktor muttered a silent curse at himself then looked back to Jevan.

"Well my friend, I hope you never stopped skimming profits from the guild. This trip may end up costing us."

"Lucky for you I prepared for this Riktor." Jevan said laughingly as he withdrew a purse ripe with coin and handed it to Riktor. "That should do, and if not we could always go for a nice long swim."

Taking the coin Riktor then waited for the captain to continue with instructions on how they should pay.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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#, as written by Juular
Though he was not one to judge, Balor felt it rude of the captain to almost entirely ignore the man he had been speaking with when he decided to respond to the old wizard's question. Nevertheless, he accepted the man's extended hand, having to first shift which one held his staff. A matter of levitating it would have been simple, but better not to seem like he was showing off. "Ah, good. Good. I was hoping there would be someone willing." Just as he was about to remind Adrian that the mercenary had been snubbed, the good captain began to speak to all assembled. He listened intently to the captain's proclamation, and nodded steadily once he was through. Taking his staff in both hands and leaning on it for support, Balor replied plainly, "Payment will not be a trouble, I assure you, and as long as the work is not too strenuous I see no harm in earning my keep." He viewed himself as a servant and a student first and foremost, the literal meaning of these subject to alteration. Seeing it fortunate that he had found a vessel charting just the course he required, and more so willing to accept passengers, who was he to argue with such simple terms?

With that out of the way it felt as if everything from then on out should have been simple. Of course, there were always little details left unknown. The Narans approached the ship, the Naralin stepping up onto the ramp to speak to the captain. "Oh, pardon me. Terribly sorry," he said while stepping down from the gangplank and onto the dock, making room for the two. He surveyed the area for a moment, though kept his ears trained to what the beastman was saying. He smiled softly to himself, now things were beginning to fall into place. They had arranged passage, which invariably meant that another force could be added to the list of those who sought the lodestone. He could not at the moment recall the name of the city ruled by Naragas, but suspected they wished one of these potential weapons for some sort of ill gotten gain. The region was well known for its infighting. Much like how he was certain Nàsk wanted it for similar purposes. He was quite aware of Adrian's past find, though had not been aware he would be headed to Saridur beforehand. He mused whether or not Nàsk's decision to send a single captain instead of an armada to claim the stone was made to keep the Sea Elves from worrying, or their own neighbors. He would have to have been deaf not to notice the derisive tone to the Naralin's words, but paid it no mind. His views were not Balor's concern. The play for the lodestone, on the other hand, was a different story.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala Character Portrait: Jag of Bosphorous
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The first thing that Kryssis had been forced to reshape once her old life ended was her paranoia. There had never been a safe moment among her own people, even though she never really held much influence. She was often assigned to plan defenses, lead assaults or train children, but she had not possessed any real power. Mostly of her own doing. She knew the risks, and purposefully distanced herself from gaining substantial fame. It hadn't helped all that much, she still became a target for assassination attempts, and those always ended badly for the fools stupid enough to try her. Even then, there were always plenty more who thought they could somehow beat her at her at something she excelled at more than most Sidheghul: murder. Sometimes she could root them out by the way they looked at her or acted when she was near. Other occasions she had just felt something was wrong, and ended up turning around at just the right time.

All of that ceased the day the Brood swarmed them. They had known full well the enemy was coming, but despite their best laid plans the monstrosities had carved through them with stupid levels of ease. There was a reason the Sidheghul had never raided the Brood. For that matter, there was one for why nobody earned the wrath of a stronghold, or why not once had one ever been razed. They were few, but their capabilities equalled those of thousands more. Kryssis had not once imagined their strength, and the day she came to know it was on the same day she died. In any case, life drifting among cities was much less.. arduous? Or maybe that was just because she didn't get tired the same way anymore. Well, after a fashion it had turned worse for a while. So many people that her mind was working in overtime trying to assess potential threats, but few ever came. It had taken many months of retraining to get to the point where she was today, and even then she still hated them. Kill zones everywhere, too many people with different potential motivations to count. It was people like that who paid off her tribe's destroyers, as well.

Torn back to the moment by the arrival of an old man- Kryssis could smell the magic on him, or maybe it was the tobacco- she mentally sighed at the prospect of even more arriving. He was definitely a wizard, regardless. What he said to the captain surprised her. In that moment she realized he was either without his bearings, or very brave. In a way, both of those possibilities made him dangerous. It prompted the captain to step down away from the younger, rugged looking man and speak to him, after which he addressed them all. Work, huh? Her pride aside, she did not like the idea simply on the basis that paying should secure passage regardless. To her it sounded like a power play from the man. His authority was centered on the ship, after all. His own private island kingdom. She was forced aside when the Naralin and his Naraga companion pushed ahead, the former stepping up onto the gangplank and interjecting about some prearranged deal. Regarding them both inscrutably, Kryssis could pick up the signs of regality about them, especially the snake. Distinctly high born in the way she held herself. Wonderful.

Then the giant came forth, thumping toward the captain, reaching down and producing a sack of coins. No words, just a simple gesture. Interesting. Everyone else had seemed so intent on chatting about what they wanted. From a glance it was hard to tell whether they were simply being brusque or outright dumb: either of the definitions. With how crowded it was getting, Kryssis felt no obligation to join them just yet. She was content to wait until the line had thinned out a little, and so she turned her eyes back to the docks- to the milling bodies of the city- and just watched them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala Character Portrait: Jag of Bosphorous
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Adrian couldn't say that he was wholly surprised with the Naralin's reaction. The wizard appeared to be fine with the proposal, and he didn't know how the others felt abut it. In a way he had been expecting the Naran to remind him about their earlier arrangement. Not that he was begrudging them for it, necessarily. Where he started to feel irked was the venom not even remotely concealed in the man's words. The disgust was evident beyond all doubt. While that did rub him the wrong way, he could not- nor would he- allow it to show. He smiled in a gracious manner and slightly dipped his head, "Good day, sir. Of course. We've been expecting you, and have certainly prepared for your arrival. As to," he briefly glanced at the Naraga, who he had been told was named Sarasa, "the matter of your nature of passage, it is of course certainly secured." Now he turned his attention entirely to the lady of noble bearing waiting in a way he would be pressed to label as patiently. He knew some of their culture, enough to realize that clothing was not something her kind would probably wear. "Milady, I hope the journey has of yet been kind. You do seem troubled by your covering. I can sympathize bearing with discomfort for necessity's sake." Then, with a short and courteous bow, Adrian stepped back and gestured without flair toward the deck of his ship. "I give you the freedom to board the Anya, let us hope your stay will be pleasant." His words were careful, respectful, and firm. Allowing much room for insinuation, and even more for speculation.

He straightened, arm returning to his side, and slid his eyes across the rest of the assembled. There was still a High Elf on his ship who had not paid for passage, that he had certainly not forgotten. Then the mercenaries who had arrived just after, and who had- with the veritable flood of potentials- been momentarily forgotten. It was not something he had intended to do, and would seek to rectify. They were waiting on something more substantial; instructions on how things were to proceed. With a deep breath and a calm, but friendly expression Adrian began to relay the true terms of boarding his vessel. "If you're happy with the warning, then there is but one more obstacle barring your way. That would be pay. A sum of-" He was cut short by the approaching of the giant. A hand jutted out toward him, and Adrian instinctively leaned off from the extended hand clasping a purse of coin. Eyes half lidded, Adrian stared blankly at the bag then up at the concealing helmet of the beast. How very abrupt, he mused. What had really struck him was the blatant violation of personal space, though he supposed that could be a subjective thing. Did not make it any better.

The bag was heavy when he accepted it, with what felt very much like the right weight. Giving a short nod, Adrian tucked it into his sash for the moment and returned to the matter at hand. "Eight hundred gold pieces. For general hospitality," there was a sly hint to his voice, intended to lighten the mood after having just informed them that their trip would make them at the least eight hundred coins poorer. The price paid to secure the way for Sarasa had been trivial in relative to her family's (or, probably more accurately, her city's) wealth, but most of these besides perhaps the elf did not look like they were exactly swimming in money. Of course looks could be deceptive, but he decided to play it safe. Better to bank a little coin than none. "If you can not afford that, then I am sorry, but there's no place for you on my ship." He shrugged, "Harsh, but this is no luxury ship. This is a warship. Keep in mind that a more extravagant vessel would also be more expensive."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala
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Ravadhi listened to the captain's pleasantries and sympathies for the savage rags Sarasa had been forced to wear, he nodded and ascended the ramp without a change of demeanor or an acknowledgement of Adrian's assent to their passage. The claws of his scaled feet found their purchase in the heavy wooden ramp and he reached the safety of the warships deck rather quickly; he was very aware of what might have happened had he lingered too long upon it.

As Ravadhi was quick in his stride, Sarasa merely smiled and nodded slightly in response to the captain's words, apparently even savages could understand the discomfort of the rags they wore. She eased her way slowly to the gangplank, still restraining her heavy tail that was a single moment away from launching an armored giant to their watery, drowny death or smash an old man into the side of the ship, and her belly scales eventually touched the ramp. With her weight finally transferred from the heavily supported dock to the relatively flimsy gangplank, an audible creak could be heard and the once straight wood began to bend. As more and more of her tail left the dock and her center of mass approached the center, a few splinters broke free on the underside of the ramp and she quickened her pace a bit to avoid the uncomfortable situation of fall into the sea. Her guard stood on the deck, arms still crossed, looking down at her for the first time since she reached adolescence; he would have to take swift action if the ever growing possibility of the ramp breaking occurred.

Thankfully, such action and worry was unwarranted, as Sarasa reached the deck of the ship without incident. The ship rocked as it took the weight of the first five or so feet of her body, then the next twenty before stabilizing and the ramp returned to its original, safe shape. The two of them moved away from the ramp to not encounter the future traffic. From their new perspective, they glanced around, Ravadhi examining the others occupying the deck and Sarasa peering over the bits and pieces of the ship that were novel to her, all of them.

Ravadhi glanced from the High Elf, whose attire and lack of action aboard the vessel made him out to be a passenger rather than a part of the crew, to the two armed men who were similarly inactive, very aware that they, and those on the docks who could afford the Anya's price, were all likely there for the same reason. News of a lodestone was spread around pretty much everywhere, and where there's a lodestone there's power, and where there's power there's difficulty and competition. The humans wouldn't serve as too much trouble, as they were never too much trouble when you weren't up against a huge amount of them or you got them away from their ships, but some of the others were definitely dangerous. The High Elf looked wealthy, but alone, making the questioning wonder why he wouldn't send well paid mercenaries to accomplish his goal, or at least bring some along, if he wasn't capable. Not being able to guess his age, though it was probably on the older side, certainly didn't ease any caution Ravadhi had for the man. The Bosphorean, who had wordlessly presented Adrian with the gold as Sarasa ascended the ramp and been welcomed aboard, would also be a challenge, as they were always a challenge even without their incredibly heavy armor. Then there was the old man, who was definitely out of place wielding 800 gold coins and going on a dangerous journey if he wasn't capable, or senile; both could be problematic.

While Ravadhi scanned their competition and organized his thoughts, Sarasa was inspecting every piece of wood and fabric and rope she could see. While the size of it all wasn't necessarily impressive--Svariz being known for oversized, Naraga-friendly structures and all--but she had never seen any of it before. The feeling of actually being on a ship had also been something she would need to get accustomed to, as the swaying of her upper body was much maligned by the swaying of the stationary ship. After she'd taken in everything that seemed interesting of the wooden marvel, she again peered at the Bosphorean as their gold was being taken by the savage captain. She was rather glad to see that they had been accepted amongst the humans and the High Elf, for they were of a somewhat respectable race and possessed a daunting stature. Most of all, she wanted to see what a Bosphorean looked like under the armor, or if that just happened to be their skin.

As the out-of-place pair glanced about, one of the crewmen approached, likely to tell them where exactly the intended passenger would be staying, as well as to be subjected to the numerous questions Ravadhi would be asking about the journey. Time, weather, food, water, noise, safety with the new passengers, all would be answered or the irritable Naralin would have to go about pestering others for the information.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Freed Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: The Strange Watcher Character Portrait: Requinn Voss
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Requinn listened as Nimba went on about cooking specialty meals, occasionally slipping into her native tongue. Requinn had not bothered to learn the language of the Yi Aba, as the group that had taken him in was relatively well versed in the vox altus, though now he wished he had, as it could have proven useful.

"I'm talking abo- ..I'm.. talking again, and getting carried off." She sighed, and Requinn gave a soft smile. "Sorry. Again. I tend to do that..." Her voice died down and she took a closer look at Requinn, who pretended not to notice, though he saw the exact moment that she realized he wasn't a sea elf, the surprise glinting clearly in her brown eyes. Requinn nodded, halfway a response to her apology, and halfway an acknowledgement of her realization. As annoying as she thought she was being, Requinn felt her tendency to ramble was endearing, like a child blissfully babbling about anything and everything. He made a mental note to strike up another conversation with her during the journey. She cleared her throat and continued: "Uh, anyway,a ssuming the Cap'n ever gets around to giving you the okay - I mean, why wouldn't he? - I don't think you're really gonna be a problem. Not too sure 'bout that one." She motioned to the Naraga and shrugged. "Oh. We've.. actually got several more, now." She voiced Requinn's thoughts almost exactly. Despite the two narans, the lumbering bosphorean approaching the ship that he had clocked just moments earlier during Nimba's rambling, the barbarian woman on the docks scoping out the ship, and the two mercenaries, the newest arrival, an elderly human in dark grey robes and a pointed hat, was absolutely the most interesting.

The man was a wizard, there was no doubt. Even from this distance, Requinn could smell the magic on him. It radiated from him like light from the sun, and it flooded Requinn's senses when he turned his attention to the man. Partly because the high elves were not the only species capable of magic,and partly because they were so naturally good at it, the Pax Alma trained in the detection of magic and effective ways to fight against it, but Requinn had never before encountered a human with this man's level of mastery. Then the wizard spoke, and, judging by Nimba's expression, his words had a similar effect on her as they did on Requinn. He didn't even hide his intentions like the rest of the group assembled. Requinn half expected the captain to kick him off or cut him down right there, but to his surprise, Adrian chuckled.

Time for a new strategy.

Still keeping his attention on the captain and the group, Requinn turned to Nimba and spoke, his tone steady and serious.
"He's the smartest out of all of us. He's the most dangerous person aboard this ship now and they all think he's an idiot. It'd be ironic if it weren't so frightening." He furrowed his brow put his hand gently on Nimba's shoulder and leaned back onto his cane. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I owe your captain some money. For my sake, please be careful around some of these passengers."

He turned from Nimba and made his way towards the captain, but stay back just a bit. The bosphorean had made it's way onto the ship and silently paid it's way. Nothing had been broken yet, so that was a good sign. Requinn had encountered bosphoreans twice before in his life, though he had read a great deal about them. The first time he was forced to resort to killing the brute because it insisted that he had stolen it's coinpurse. He had taken it, of course, but no amount of maneuvering could get him out of that situation. Luckily, that one was without any armor, so all Requinn had to do was leap up and deliver a swift strike at the base of the neck. The second was more reasonable, taking three chests of Requinn's gold and two of his agents as slaves in exchange for it's services as an enforcer. This one, however, appeared neither particularly chatty nor lacking in armor, so Requinn decided he would simply avoid it altogether.

The Naran's had apparently pre-arranged a passage, and from the arrogant way the Naraga carried herself, along with the fact that her Naralin bodyguard did all the talking, Requinn deduced that she was nobility. Disgusting. Svaris was one of the few places Rexia deigned to trade with simply because the Narans were not humans, and were thus looked upon more kindly. Requinn felt the exact opposite. While he disliked the human nations to a certain degree, he preferred them over the Narans, especially the Naraga, who would enslave or kill all the other races and nations if they had the ability. He had no qualms with using people to achieve his own goals, but at least his goals were in the pursuit of prosperity and peace. The suffering of others was acceptable if it advanced the greater good, but in Requinn's experience, the Naragans enjoyed watching others grovel, and that was unforgivable.

Next on Requinn's mind were the two mercenaries, who introduced themselves while he was conversing with Nimba, but he didn't bother to listen. They posed little threat. Even if they did manage to best everyone else and get the stone, he was confident they didn't actually know how to use it, and then there were a number of ways he could retrieve it from them. He wondered how loyal they were to each other, toying with the idea that he could turn them against one another, or possibly hire them against one of the other parties. If they didn't die on the upcoming adventure and if they proved skilled enough, Requinn could always use more sword arms.

Adrian asked for 800 gold coins, a paltry sum really, as Requinn had expected nearly twice that. He turned his back to the crowd and palmed a small glass container with a note inside that he'd prepared to signal his agent in Saridur, leaned against the railing as if he was looking out to sea, and casually dropped into the lapping waves below. After they had set sail, his agent would collect the container and read the note inside. Then he turned back and removed two small coinpurses from his robe, checked their labels to insure they had the proper amount of coins, and looked to Adrian. The captain looked almost swamped by the amount of passengers, though unsurprisingly, he appeared content with the amount of gold he was pocketing. Requinn decided to give the man some space, and waited patiently. After all, the captain wasn't going anywhere without collecting everyone's money.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Balor Palamet Character Portrait: Requinn Voss Character Portrait: Riktor Fortis Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des Màstoof Character Portrait: Sarasa Zyakala Character Portrait: Jag of Bosphorous
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#, as written by Juular
So much variety, Balor mused with attentive eyes. First came the Bosphorean, literally pushing their money onto the poor captain who seemed swamped with so many who sought to board his vessel. Obviously not accustomed to the mannerisms the species, who were so uncommon beyond their own land, were capable of. The captain regarded the formidable being curiously, and with an air that said he did not very much like manner of the presentation of the gold. Still, he accepted it nonetheless. A judicious man, this one. It seemed he was cool under pressure, as well. He did seem rather experienced, for his age. He watched the Narans ascend the ramp, confirmation of their voyage arrangements settled. He would have pitied the gangplank, were it capable of feeling pain. The sheer amount of stress it was being put under. He shuddered to think. The Naraga's crossing alone nearly caused it to crack and send her down into the waters below. That would have been most unfortunate, not the least of which for her pride, of course. It seemed things were starting to get underway, and Balor decided he should tarry no longer.

He stepped back onto the boarding ramp, sifting through his satchel simultaneously. "I know I have it here, somewhere," he grumbled under his breath, brushing aside small books, sheets of paper, a few fetishes and an old, faded strip of painted cloth. He furrowed his brow at this last one, "Now, what were you?" He wondered, coming close to losing track of his thoughts momentarily. He shook his head, returning to the matter at hand, and continued digging. Seconds later he smiled, "Ah! There we are." He grasped three sacks of coin between his fingers and lifted them out, holding them for the captain to procure. "This should, I believe, suffice," he said with a smile.