Introduction
Credit to Pierre Henri de Valenciennes
The world of Skaerra (Sky-Ra) holds many wonders and secrets. It is a world of four continents, and vast seas and oceans dotted by many islands and archipelagos. Magic enriches the land and the seas with its almost infinite abundance. The splendor of this world beckons the touch of capricious and undeserving gods.
It is the Year 3528, or Year 28 of the Eighth Era. The Aea, heavenly stewards whose purpose is to watch over the Creator's designs, have long been split since the days of the First Era. The exiled Aea under Ircys await the return of their leader Molos, the Fallen Star. Molos's brother, Oelne, the usurper of Creation, prepares for war once more with his allies and their armies behind him. He has not forgotten the Heavenly War when Oelne defeated Molos and forced him to flee into the great vast Night seeking the Creator. Oelne will ensure that their primacy is absolute once and for all. That they may finally call themselves the true rulers of this realm, and leave the Creator behind as a mere imagination.
A sickness of unknown origin, the Red Wind, has fallen upon the Elven realm of Alheras. The Council of Flyfendel rallies the elven leaders to erect measures to halt its spread through Elven lands while contending with invaders sensing weakness among their ranks. Princess Anundhel Eressea of the Royal House of Alheras has taken it upon herself to seek out a cure. For the cure, she requires three ingredients. Water from the Well of Regrets, a fountain of immortality. The heart of a black drake named Vormyceres, who consumed a star that rendered his heart unable to decay. Finally, a leaf from the oldest tree in existence, Yparil.
Meanwhile, the Empire of Dessor finds itself embroiled in new conflicts with the barbarous tribes to the north and the feudal city states of the Northern Coalition. Chancellor Renocles Isidore plots with a faction of Senators to seize power from Emperor Pellion Loenthil.
Clandestine agents race against time to stop the unraveling of the barriers between the mortal realm of Skaerra and the immaterial realms.
In these times of peril, a few souls, though left behind by fate, forge their own destinies as they are thrust to the forefront of all this.
They may find that all is not as it seems.
Welcome to Skaerra!
A high fantasy roleplay with epic and mythic overtones. It is a story about nobodies becoming larger than life heroes by embarking on a great journey through a world rife with the surreal and fantastical. It is an adventure beyond their wildest dreams, literally. The story concerns a group of characters who are all entwined by having dreamt a specific dream. Where it will take them, they know not. Perhaps their tale will be enshrined as legends for generations to come. However, the fates have yet to weave those strands. Thus, the rest will be up to us.
Credit to MOOD from "Fall of Gods"
First, I want to make it clear that, no matter what, I am taking you on as the writers, not as the characters you play. This is why I encourage people to not be so attached to their character and to try and write for NPCs or be open to the idea of killing their characters.
The characterization should be dynamic. When someone else describes your character in IC, feel free to quote that and put it in your character's profile. You'll be free to customize those pages however you like. One image (excluding the avatar pic) in their portraits at the start of this roleplay is required. The first image is for the sake of everyone being on the same page on a mental visual standpoint as far as their face is concerned. The appearance does not need to match what the image has, for you can describe your character's dress as you would unrestricted. There is no limit on images. Concept art is recommended.
Also, please reference other characters' sheets for guidance if necessary. PMs for help are welcome too.
Now at the end of all of this, if you find these terms acceptable, I welcome you to join me.
- Code: Select all
[font="(Pick One of Your Choice.)"]
[b]Name:[/b] (Include preferred pronunciation.)
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Ethnicity:[/b] (Under certain races, like humans there are sub ethnic groups.)
[b]Place of Birth:[/b]
[b]Physical Appearance:[/b] (One paragraph minimum.)
[b]Eye Color:[/b]
[b]Hair Color:[/b]
[b]Skin Tone/Complexion:[/b]
[b]Height:[/b]
[b]Weight:[/b]
[b]Combat Skills:[/b]
[u]Magic Mastery Level:[/u] (Check Magic and Flow thread for more information.)
[u]Magic Resistance Level:[/u] (Check Magic and Flow thread for more information.)
[u]Flow Mastery Level:[/u] (Check Magic and Flow thread for more information.)
[u]Weapons and Equipment:[/u] (Up to you.)
[b]Miscellaneous Items:[/b]
[b]Personality Description:[/b] (One paragraph minimum.)
[b]Religious Beliefs:[/b]
[b]Education:[/b]
[b]History:[/b] (Two paragraphs minimum.)[/font]
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 9 authors
[co-written with almostinsane and Captain Awesome]
29th Breh
The group journeyed by foot, the most appropriate mode of travel considering the expenses of a camel per person. Yet, one or two camels to haul their supplies and provisions would have been fine. The second sun just awoke while her sister already shined her light from the peak of her day.
“So, our group has how many mages? Three?” Bertholdt counted.
"I mean, technically, four," said Danairia, creating a spark with the snap of her fingers.
"You're not a threat honey," Bertholdt said, "But you start popping that in Nabbuz, they won't look twice before locking you up."
"...That's all I got..." the elf admitted through clearing her throat.
"You are full of surprises," Antius commented dryly.
The spark of magic surprised Sanvi, but she supposed she had to speak up lest they forgot about her.
"Five," Sanvi cleared her throat, she thought she sounded like some sort of adolescent girl, "I am a cleric, you might have forgotten."
"Our mistake," Jolloc nodded, "But you're not...does she count as a foreigner according to Asyrish laws?"
"Complicated," Bertholdt snapped, "But I think any elf, dwarf, non-D'homani human, or Kaleth will not be allowed, but don't quote me."
Jolloc nodded, "Well, get as banged and scratched up as you want before we reach Nabbuz. After that, her healing is off limits," he jabbed a thumb at Sanvi.
Sanvi shook her head, "That's not how it works. That's not how any of this...forget it."
“If you’re worried about the Asyrish laws, know that I can still use my hammer like a hammer,” Niobe replied as she walked with her hammer as though it were a cane.
“There’s a fair stretch of Asyrish land we must pass through before we reach the Hamyzadh. From there we pass through Tharon. The Tharonians are agreeable only on their best days,” Bertholdt muttered, “And they have few of those.”
Jolloc looked at Bertholdt, “The lizards? You hate them? I always thought they’re nicefolk. Wish I knew how to go invisible like them.”
Bertholdt dismissed the orc, "If we ever run low on funds, we can always take up odd mercenary jobs. Though, be warned, 'tis quite competitive."
"Well, we have a professional blacksmith here," Danairia reminded everyone as she jabbed Caspian in the shoulder.
"Sure, I think people might need some blades made," Caspian paused, "Though, I'm not sure if any of you wish to wait a few days for me to finish one."
Caspian began to regret his decision to jump aboard a ship with strangers at the whims of a dream to a land where he had no skill to keep him fed and housed. Yet, he had survived, and he made some friends. He began to smile, but his broad smile drew a perplexed stare from Sanvi. Caspian zipped when his eyes met her, he still felt embarassed about the molting question.
"Aaaaaaand, you all happen to be in the presense of a professional blade-for-hire here! If you translate for me, I can get us jobs no problem."
"You? Our negotiator? I hardly fancy us being run through by the town guard," Antius teased lightly.
"Trust me, we won't translate what she says, verbatim," Bertholdt said.
"Thank the Creator."
Lir remained quiet when Antius spoke. She felt she would have to remain quiet for the rest of the journey. She accepted that, some burdens were hers to bear. As they traveled, Antius took her hand for a moment. She had suffered much while he was gone. All he could do now was be with her.
The group reached the eastern gate checkpoint and joined a small throng of people, mostly traders and merchants and a city convoy. Guards covered the gates and ramparts of the wall. Every entrance was the same, Khi'ir managed the influx and efflux of travelers with care.
The group approached the gates behind a train of others.
Huo eyed the guards, they reminded him of his colosseum days. His cast a downward glance at his feet, those days had passed, but some things never really departed with them. To be seen as a free man felt different to him.
The guards posted at the gate had received word just a day ago to be on the look out for an ugly elf woman, perhaps seeking to escape. They sought to inspect each and every person leaving the city through the east gate and make sure they completed their job. Though, they hoped for their sake, that the woman already found some other means of getting past the walls. Catching her seemed like more trouble than she was worth based on the story they heard regarding their fellow deceased city watchmen.
"Next!" the guardsman waved his current detainee through the portcullis.
As the group neared, Huo felt weary of waiting for the crowd. However, he noticed a group of guards approaching them. He sensed that they brought nothing but ill news.
The Osu whispered, "Heads up..."
"Are you all together?" the guardsman asked the group.
They defaulted to Bertholdt, who scampered from Jolloc's shoulder to the front, "Yes, we are together."
The guardsman scanned the group up and down, Huo could feel their incriminating eyes already.
"Arrest the elf."
"What?" Bertholdt cried.
Danairia's shoulders drop in a loud, annoyed sigh.
Jolloc's eyes darted between the guards and Danairia. As an orc, he refused to partake in any sort of aggression. Humans often perceived orcs to be dangerous enough already. If the past three or so days had taught Huo anything, it had taught him that this particular moment seemed just about appropriate for Danairia to do something...stupid. He sighed.
He decided he wanted to bust some heads too.
"We are looking for an elf wanted for murder," the guardsman said and turned to his comrades, "Yalla!"
Danairia perked up.
"Okay-bullshit. I KNOW those guys didn't die!" She yelled, not seeming to notice in the heat of the moment that she just incriminated herself of some form of wrong-doing anyway. The glare of the armed men grows more potent
Caspian looks over at Danairia, somewhat doubting, despite the story from earlier.
"Well, one of them was hit with a mace..."
"No! You don't just die from getting tapped in the jaw!" The elf explains.
"And didn't you strangle the other one...?" Lir chimes in.
"You've CLEARLY never strangled someone before, have you?!" Danairia says, pointing at the mage in an accusing manner.
"Umm...I like to think that that's a good thing..." Lir says, raising an eyebrow.
"...I've strangled someone before..." Jolloc quietly adds.
Danairia squints at the half-orc.
"...Good for you?..."
The guards, having heard well over enough, began to move and as they inched closer, everyone fell into a battle stance. Huo noticed a group of hooded guards join their brothers. They carried no weapons, swords or spears of any kind. He observed a small purple light began to form at the tips of their fingers. Was that magic?
"Seize them!" the guards rushed at the group.
Huo dodged a pair of sword strokes and countered with his fists. He observed Jolloc smashing another guard in the head. The guard mages spread apart and began to channel a containment spell. The mage in front of Huo seemed surprised that his magic sputtered into nothing just as Huo pounded him in the face and knocked him unconscious.
Sanvi did her best to keep up with the chaos, but a spear near caught her wing and made her wince and scream. Caspian parried the thrust with his wrapped blade. The cleric bolted in any direction where a sword was not thrust.
Danairia drew her blades, surprisingly put-off by the sudden aggression of her peers but engaged the enemy before them regardless, crossing swords with the guard immediately to her front and taking him on as frost and steel rain down around her comrades. It was clear that the guards were fighting with intent to capture or kill but, regardless, the elf did her best to show restraint, choosing to take quick shots and defensive tactics rather than any lethal strikes.
"Everyone for themselves!" Jolloc cried, "We'll regroup once we're past the city gates."
"Why do I get the feeling that the number one cause for our party being run out of town is going to be one reckless, hard-drinking elf?" Antius exclaimed as he twirled his staff. For the record, he did not use magic immediately. Thanks to his days in the Colliseum, he was quite skilled with the spear. In the end, however, he found himself forced to use his magic in order to defend himself.
"It's a mage!" a guard cried and Antius cursed. He created a wave of flame to distract them while he created illusions of himself to run in every direction as he made his own escape.
The squad mages saw through his spell and countered with their own blasts of frost. The concoction of primal elemental magic sent the many denizens fleeing in a multitude of directions. The guards of Khi'ir handled magical threats better than most as they had armed themselves with oredrium gilded shields and swords.
"One of these days, I will stop being surprised at things like this." He murmured.
Lir followed her fellow mage's direction. The runemage Niobe did not bother herself with the guards. If anyone recognized her as the daughter of a dwarven dignitary, it would be trouble for her. She retreated into the background while her newfound acquaintances attempted to escape despite the Khi'iri city guard cornering them on all sides.
A horn was blown, Huo swore under his breath. More of them were coming, he glanced in the direction of the city gate. They would lower the portcullis any second.
"We need to get out of here," he paused to glance at a nearby mage who shot a bolt of frost in his direction.
The magic dissipated, as it should against tertiary resistances. The Osu spotted the Kaleth cleric who, despite avoiding the enemy's arcane frost, stood frozen in fear.
He grabbed her arm, "Looks like you're with me wings," they made for the city gates ahead of the others. Niobe observed this and she followed suit after the pair.
Danairia's chosen opponent was not alone. It was only but a few seconds before another joined the fray, forcing her to separate herself from her opponent to address the second front in one quick, sweeping motion. She remained back, steady as she tried to work out a plan for herself to escape. However, her plotting had been cut short by something in the peripheral vision of her right side...and it was coming directly at her!
Her swords raised on instinct, only helping her to just barely intercept the incoming threat, a bolt of ice, which shattered against the steel of her blades on impact and forced her back in a stumble. A mage had joined the skirmish, making it three-on-one.
Danairia's mind raced as she tried to find a weak point. Little did she know, one was about to present itself to her on a silver platter.
"AAAAAAAGH-!!"
There was a loud crack from behind one of the guards and, in an instant, he was on the ground. Nearly on top of him...was Caspian. In his hand was a wrapped up...
...something...
"WHY DO GUARDS HATE US SO MUCH?!" He yells.
...Maybe it wasn't a SILVER platter, but a blacksmith with an improvised weapon of some kind certainly was better than she expected.
The blacksmith unties a knot on the object in his hand, letting the cloth fall away to reveal...
...a sheathed sword?
"I was hoping I could find some answers on this thing before I did anything rash with it..." He thought to himself as he firmly gripped the scabbard and tugged on the grip.
But I guess there's no other option now, is there?
Danairia watched as Caspian drew his eligent blade. His form was perfect. His feet firmly planted into the dirt as his hands seemed to command the weapon they gripped with the influence of a noble and twice the passion. He was but a kid, yet it felt as though she were watching a master with many years of experience.
Was this the young blacksmith who had accompanied her all the way from Opynonias? Could this have been someone else entirely?
...How could she have been so wrong in her initial judgement on-?
-The guard lunged forward, swinging his yatagan diagonally down into Caspian's raised blade, directing it harmlessly out of the way before mercilessly punching the lad in the cheek and sending him reeling down to the street.
...Danairia watched, purse-lipped.
That...really went in a different direction than I had expected it to...
She rushed forward, reaching low and then bashing the guard in the face with the pommel of her sword before sheathing the other and tugging on the young blacksmith's tunic.
"C'mon!" She yelled. "We've got to go!"
Caspian, with the help of the mercenary, jumped to his feet and the two made for the gate, shards of ice impacting around them as the mage attempted to pick them off.
29th Breh
The group journeyed by foot, the most appropriate mode of travel considering the expenses of a camel per person. Yet, one or two camels to haul their supplies and provisions would have been fine. The second sun just awoke while her sister already shined her light from the peak of her day.
“So, our group has how many mages? Three?” Bertholdt counted.
"I mean, technically, four," said Danairia, creating a spark with the snap of her fingers.
"You're not a threat honey," Bertholdt said, "But you start popping that in Nabbuz, they won't look twice before locking you up."
"...That's all I got..." the elf admitted through clearing her throat.
"You are full of surprises," Antius commented dryly.
The spark of magic surprised Sanvi, but she supposed she had to speak up lest they forgot about her.
"Five," Sanvi cleared her throat, she thought she sounded like some sort of adolescent girl, "I am a cleric, you might have forgotten."
"Our mistake," Jolloc nodded, "But you're not...does she count as a foreigner according to Asyrish laws?"
"Complicated," Bertholdt snapped, "But I think any elf, dwarf, non-D'homani human, or Kaleth will not be allowed, but don't quote me."
Jolloc nodded, "Well, get as banged and scratched up as you want before we reach Nabbuz. After that, her healing is off limits," he jabbed a thumb at Sanvi.
Sanvi shook her head, "That's not how it works. That's not how any of this...forget it."
“If you’re worried about the Asyrish laws, know that I can still use my hammer like a hammer,” Niobe replied as she walked with her hammer as though it were a cane.
“There’s a fair stretch of Asyrish land we must pass through before we reach the Hamyzadh. From there we pass through Tharon. The Tharonians are agreeable only on their best days,” Bertholdt muttered, “And they have few of those.”
Jolloc looked at Bertholdt, “The lizards? You hate them? I always thought they’re nicefolk. Wish I knew how to go invisible like them.”
Bertholdt dismissed the orc, "If we ever run low on funds, we can always take up odd mercenary jobs. Though, be warned, 'tis quite competitive."
"Well, we have a professional blacksmith here," Danairia reminded everyone as she jabbed Caspian in the shoulder.
"Sure, I think people might need some blades made," Caspian paused, "Though, I'm not sure if any of you wish to wait a few days for me to finish one."
Caspian began to regret his decision to jump aboard a ship with strangers at the whims of a dream to a land where he had no skill to keep him fed and housed. Yet, he had survived, and he made some friends. He began to smile, but his broad smile drew a perplexed stare from Sanvi. Caspian zipped when his eyes met her, he still felt embarassed about the molting question.
"Aaaaaaand, you all happen to be in the presense of a professional blade-for-hire here! If you translate for me, I can get us jobs no problem."
"You? Our negotiator? I hardly fancy us being run through by the town guard," Antius teased lightly.
"Trust me, we won't translate what she says, verbatim," Bertholdt said.
"Thank the Creator."
Lir remained quiet when Antius spoke. She felt she would have to remain quiet for the rest of the journey. She accepted that, some burdens were hers to bear. As they traveled, Antius took her hand for a moment. She had suffered much while he was gone. All he could do now was be with her.
The group reached the eastern gate checkpoint and joined a small throng of people, mostly traders and merchants and a city convoy. Guards covered the gates and ramparts of the wall. Every entrance was the same, Khi'ir managed the influx and efflux of travelers with care.
The group approached the gates behind a train of others.
Huo eyed the guards, they reminded him of his colosseum days. His cast a downward glance at his feet, those days had passed, but some things never really departed with them. To be seen as a free man felt different to him.
The guards posted at the gate had received word just a day ago to be on the look out for an ugly elf woman, perhaps seeking to escape. They sought to inspect each and every person leaving the city through the east gate and make sure they completed their job. Though, they hoped for their sake, that the woman already found some other means of getting past the walls. Catching her seemed like more trouble than she was worth based on the story they heard regarding their fellow deceased city watchmen.
"Next!" the guardsman waved his current detainee through the portcullis.
As the group neared, Huo felt weary of waiting for the crowd. However, he noticed a group of guards approaching them. He sensed that they brought nothing but ill news.
The Osu whispered, "Heads up..."
"Are you all together?" the guardsman asked the group.
They defaulted to Bertholdt, who scampered from Jolloc's shoulder to the front, "Yes, we are together."
The guardsman scanned the group up and down, Huo could feel their incriminating eyes already.
"Arrest the elf."
"What?" Bertholdt cried.
Danairia's shoulders drop in a loud, annoyed sigh.
Jolloc's eyes darted between the guards and Danairia. As an orc, he refused to partake in any sort of aggression. Humans often perceived orcs to be dangerous enough already. If the past three or so days had taught Huo anything, it had taught him that this particular moment seemed just about appropriate for Danairia to do something...stupid. He sighed.
He decided he wanted to bust some heads too.
"We are looking for an elf wanted for murder," the guardsman said and turned to his comrades, "Yalla!"
Danairia perked up.
"Okay-bullshit. I KNOW those guys didn't die!" She yelled, not seeming to notice in the heat of the moment that she just incriminated herself of some form of wrong-doing anyway. The glare of the armed men grows more potent
Caspian looks over at Danairia, somewhat doubting, despite the story from earlier.
"Well, one of them was hit with a mace..."
"No! You don't just die from getting tapped in the jaw!" The elf explains.
"And didn't you strangle the other one...?" Lir chimes in.
"You've CLEARLY never strangled someone before, have you?!" Danairia says, pointing at the mage in an accusing manner.
"Umm...I like to think that that's a good thing..." Lir says, raising an eyebrow.
"...I've strangled someone before..." Jolloc quietly adds.
Danairia squints at the half-orc.
"...Good for you?..."
The guards, having heard well over enough, began to move and as they inched closer, everyone fell into a battle stance. Huo noticed a group of hooded guards join their brothers. They carried no weapons, swords or spears of any kind. He observed a small purple light began to form at the tips of their fingers. Was that magic?
"Seize them!" the guards rushed at the group.
Huo dodged a pair of sword strokes and countered with his fists. He observed Jolloc smashing another guard in the head. The guard mages spread apart and began to channel a containment spell. The mage in front of Huo seemed surprised that his magic sputtered into nothing just as Huo pounded him in the face and knocked him unconscious.
Sanvi did her best to keep up with the chaos, but a spear near caught her wing and made her wince and scream. Caspian parried the thrust with his wrapped blade. The cleric bolted in any direction where a sword was not thrust.
Danairia drew her blades, surprisingly put-off by the sudden aggression of her peers but engaged the enemy before them regardless, crossing swords with the guard immediately to her front and taking him on as frost and steel rain down around her comrades. It was clear that the guards were fighting with intent to capture or kill but, regardless, the elf did her best to show restraint, choosing to take quick shots and defensive tactics rather than any lethal strikes.
"Everyone for themselves!" Jolloc cried, "We'll regroup once we're past the city gates."
"Why do I get the feeling that the number one cause for our party being run out of town is going to be one reckless, hard-drinking elf?" Antius exclaimed as he twirled his staff. For the record, he did not use magic immediately. Thanks to his days in the Colliseum, he was quite skilled with the spear. In the end, however, he found himself forced to use his magic in order to defend himself.
"It's a mage!" a guard cried and Antius cursed. He created a wave of flame to distract them while he created illusions of himself to run in every direction as he made his own escape.
The squad mages saw through his spell and countered with their own blasts of frost. The concoction of primal elemental magic sent the many denizens fleeing in a multitude of directions. The guards of Khi'ir handled magical threats better than most as they had armed themselves with oredrium gilded shields and swords.
"One of these days, I will stop being surprised at things like this." He murmured.
Lir followed her fellow mage's direction. The runemage Niobe did not bother herself with the guards. If anyone recognized her as the daughter of a dwarven dignitary, it would be trouble for her. She retreated into the background while her newfound acquaintances attempted to escape despite the Khi'iri city guard cornering them on all sides.
A horn was blown, Huo swore under his breath. More of them were coming, he glanced in the direction of the city gate. They would lower the portcullis any second.
"We need to get out of here," he paused to glance at a nearby mage who shot a bolt of frost in his direction.
The magic dissipated, as it should against tertiary resistances. The Osu spotted the Kaleth cleric who, despite avoiding the enemy's arcane frost, stood frozen in fear.
He grabbed her arm, "Looks like you're with me wings," they made for the city gates ahead of the others. Niobe observed this and she followed suit after the pair.
Danairia's chosen opponent was not alone. It was only but a few seconds before another joined the fray, forcing her to separate herself from her opponent to address the second front in one quick, sweeping motion. She remained back, steady as she tried to work out a plan for herself to escape. However, her plotting had been cut short by something in the peripheral vision of her right side...and it was coming directly at her!
Her swords raised on instinct, only helping her to just barely intercept the incoming threat, a bolt of ice, which shattered against the steel of her blades on impact and forced her back in a stumble. A mage had joined the skirmish, making it three-on-one.
Danairia's mind raced as she tried to find a weak point. Little did she know, one was about to present itself to her on a silver platter.
"AAAAAAAGH-!!"
There was a loud crack from behind one of the guards and, in an instant, he was on the ground. Nearly on top of him...was Caspian. In his hand was a wrapped up...
...something...
"WHY DO GUARDS HATE US SO MUCH?!" He yells.
...Maybe it wasn't a SILVER platter, but a blacksmith with an improvised weapon of some kind certainly was better than she expected.
The blacksmith unties a knot on the object in his hand, letting the cloth fall away to reveal...
...a sheathed sword?
"I was hoping I could find some answers on this thing before I did anything rash with it..." He thought to himself as he firmly gripped the scabbard and tugged on the grip.
But I guess there's no other option now, is there?
Danairia watched as Caspian drew his eligent blade. His form was perfect. His feet firmly planted into the dirt as his hands seemed to command the weapon they gripped with the influence of a noble and twice the passion. He was but a kid, yet it felt as though she were watching a master with many years of experience.
Was this the young blacksmith who had accompanied her all the way from Opynonias? Could this have been someone else entirely?
...How could she have been so wrong in her initial judgement on-?
-The guard lunged forward, swinging his yatagan diagonally down into Caspian's raised blade, directing it harmlessly out of the way before mercilessly punching the lad in the cheek and sending him reeling down to the street.
...Danairia watched, purse-lipped.
That...really went in a different direction than I had expected it to...
She rushed forward, reaching low and then bashing the guard in the face with the pommel of her sword before sheathing the other and tugging on the young blacksmith's tunic.
"C'mon!" She yelled. "We've got to go!"
Caspian, with the help of the mercenary, jumped to his feet and the two made for the gate, shards of ice impacting around them as the mage attempted to pick them off.
The setting changes from Khi'ir to Port of Opynonias
[Co-written by Tyce]
The assassin and his friends were put off by the sudden explosion. They stumbled a bit but did not stop. The one with the spear drew a sword from the scabbard on his belt and tossed it to the unarmmed member of their team. Meanwhile, one of the figures on the roof stopped, lowering a crossbow to the surface on which they stood and placing their foot in the stirrup before yanking back on the string. Another figure with a sizable yew longbow calmly walked past the other as she drew an arrow from the quiver at her hip...
Ya'weh and Zoni followed behind the bar hand as he ran through the streets of the Port of Opynonias.
"This way!" He yelled.
Zoni, trying to get a better hold on the situation, looked back behind her. The assassins were gaining...but that was not all.
"Ya'!" She called back to her companion, who was beginning to look as though the loss of blood was taking a toll. While she held her normal expression, her complexion had somewhat faded, as though it in itself was flowing from the wound in her side.
From atop the building, the crossbowman loaded a bolt into his groove, aiming and, immediately after acquiring his target, yanked the tickler.
As Zoni slowed down to help the wounded girl keep her pace, the bolt sped through the air where she once stood, impacted the ground and skidded down the cobblestone pavement.
Zoni, barely even noticing her close encounter in her adrenaline-saturated moment, took Ya'weh's arm and placed it over her shoulder to help.
"I got you Ya'. Clot up that wound and let's keep moving!"
Ya' nodded at her and as her tattoos glittered briefly in the exchange, she began increasing her tissues healing rate and her clotting factor in her blood. At the exchange of her hearing and smell, which became nullified to balance the enhancement of her blood.
"Okay I'm working on it." She focused on her magic so as to not lose it and she felt a slight bit better right away.
The assassin with the longbow calmly nocked her arrow, drawing it back to the cheek of her mask before aiming at the girl who slowed to help her friend before waiting...and then looses, sending the missile out.
"Keep moving!" Yelled the bar hand, turning to look at the two women. But, as he turned, his eyes widened; face white.
Suddenly, a yelp hit the air and Zoni fell to a knee...with an arrow in her back.
Ya'weh gasped.
"Zoni!" Ya' and Hans called simultaneously. He turned and rushed to help her keep moving.
"Are you alright?!"
The girl looked puzzled, removing Hans' hand as she spoke.
"Yeah, just a little stinging in my back, I guess. What hit me?"
The man was confused.
"A stroke of luck," Ya' said in a murmur as she inspected Zoni's back. Her face lightening and her lower leg covered in blood.
"Wait, what?" He questioned as Zoni resumed helping her friend move along, exposing to Hans the long projectile sticking from her quiver atop the bag she wore.
"O-...Oh..." Hans stammered out. "You-...I-I'll tell you later!"
After leaving the exposed kill-zone of the two figures on the rooftop, the three sprinted around the corner of a building and down the length of one of the docks. They had finally reached where they were going...but where exactly were they going?
Hans mumbles to himself, "Please still be here-please still be here-please still be-YES!"
The bar hand pointed ahead to a merchant ship as it was loading up its last crate. A man stood out in front of the ramp.
"TIBERIUS!" Yelled Hans.
The man looked up with a smile which...quickly faded.
"Hans?" He questioned aloud.
"What are you doing here? What the hell happened t'yeh?"
As Hans gasped for breath, struggling for answers, Zoni nocked another one of her arrows and stood facing down toward land.
Before the man called Tiberius stood a bar hand, an archer with an arrow sticking out of her back, and another woman with her side bleeding.
"I'll explain what happened in as great of detail as you want later," Hans said through his gasping, "but, by the creator, we need to board and we need to set sail NOW."
"Wait, why?" The captain asked.
"That!" Hans said, pointing up the dock at the group of three assassins rounding the corner.
Zoni drew the string on her bow back the rest of its length and loosed the arrow. However, the target it raced toward leaned to his side, dodging the threat before reclaiming the speed he had lost in the process.
"...Get aboard." Ordered Tiberius.
The assassin and his friends were put off by the sudden explosion. They stumbled a bit but did not stop. The one with the spear drew a sword from the scabbard on his belt and tossed it to the unarmmed member of their team. Meanwhile, one of the figures on the roof stopped, lowering a crossbow to the surface on which they stood and placing their foot in the stirrup before yanking back on the string. Another figure with a sizable yew longbow calmly walked past the other as she drew an arrow from the quiver at her hip...
Ya'weh and Zoni followed behind the bar hand as he ran through the streets of the Port of Opynonias.
"This way!" He yelled.
Zoni, trying to get a better hold on the situation, looked back behind her. The assassins were gaining...but that was not all.
"Ya'!" She called back to her companion, who was beginning to look as though the loss of blood was taking a toll. While she held her normal expression, her complexion had somewhat faded, as though it in itself was flowing from the wound in her side.
From atop the building, the crossbowman loaded a bolt into his groove, aiming and, immediately after acquiring his target, yanked the tickler.
As Zoni slowed down to help the wounded girl keep her pace, the bolt sped through the air where she once stood, impacted the ground and skidded down the cobblestone pavement.
Zoni, barely even noticing her close encounter in her adrenaline-saturated moment, took Ya'weh's arm and placed it over her shoulder to help.
"I got you Ya'. Clot up that wound and let's keep moving!"
Ya' nodded at her and as her tattoos glittered briefly in the exchange, she began increasing her tissues healing rate and her clotting factor in her blood. At the exchange of her hearing and smell, which became nullified to balance the enhancement of her blood.
"Okay I'm working on it." She focused on her magic so as to not lose it and she felt a slight bit better right away.
The assassin with the longbow calmly nocked her arrow, drawing it back to the cheek of her mask before aiming at the girl who slowed to help her friend before waiting...and then looses, sending the missile out.
"Keep moving!" Yelled the bar hand, turning to look at the two women. But, as he turned, his eyes widened; face white.
Suddenly, a yelp hit the air and Zoni fell to a knee...with an arrow in her back.
Ya'weh gasped.
"Zoni!" Ya' and Hans called simultaneously. He turned and rushed to help her keep moving.
"Are you alright?!"
The girl looked puzzled, removing Hans' hand as she spoke.
"Yeah, just a little stinging in my back, I guess. What hit me?"
The man was confused.
"A stroke of luck," Ya' said in a murmur as she inspected Zoni's back. Her face lightening and her lower leg covered in blood.
"Wait, what?" He questioned as Zoni resumed helping her friend move along, exposing to Hans the long projectile sticking from her quiver atop the bag she wore.
"O-...Oh..." Hans stammered out. "You-...I-I'll tell you later!"
After leaving the exposed kill-zone of the two figures on the rooftop, the three sprinted around the corner of a building and down the length of one of the docks. They had finally reached where they were going...but where exactly were they going?
Hans mumbles to himself, "Please still be here-please still be here-please still be-YES!"
The bar hand pointed ahead to a merchant ship as it was loading up its last crate. A man stood out in front of the ramp.
"TIBERIUS!" Yelled Hans.
The man looked up with a smile which...quickly faded.
"Hans?" He questioned aloud.
"What are you doing here? What the hell happened t'yeh?"
As Hans gasped for breath, struggling for answers, Zoni nocked another one of her arrows and stood facing down toward land.
Before the man called Tiberius stood a bar hand, an archer with an arrow sticking out of her back, and another woman with her side bleeding.
"I'll explain what happened in as great of detail as you want later," Hans said through his gasping, "but, by the creator, we need to board and we need to set sail NOW."
"Wait, why?" The captain asked.
"That!" Hans said, pointing up the dock at the group of three assassins rounding the corner.
Zoni drew the string on her bow back the rest of its length and loosed the arrow. However, the target it raced toward leaned to his side, dodging the threat before reclaiming the speed he had lost in the process.
"...Get aboard." Ordered Tiberius.
The setting changes from Port of Opynonias to Khi'ir
Setting
0.00 INK
Lir Syoelle. I know what you look like. I know how you think. I know what you feel.
Galtros Penrimore released an excess of energy that had built within his joints. He felt her magic imprinted within his mind. He had a target now, a moving one. He knew that she knew, or that she had some inkling of knowing. He left an impression on her mind, one of torment and pain.
He packed his necessities in a little adventurer’s sack, for he sensed it to be the moment to do so. She perhaps sought to flee from him, and he, by necessity, sought to chase her.
He possessed few things left to chase in this material world. Another one. Another shard. Another step closer to ending his meaningless existence.
He looked at his open window, a bird swept in and perched on the sill. Its head shifted about with rapidity and swung from side to side. It was a beautiful bird with a coat of lime green and white. Its beak was thin and small. Galtros observed the bird with patience and intent. Its movements seemed improvised. He watched it depart.
It flew from the sill, unattached.
-
Paecus Ixipas moved about the streets with ease along the crisscrossing paths of the city. He followed the scent that left a trail. Her magic, he recognized, had potential, but he regretted that she wasted it pursuing a cause that would lead to no fruitful end for her or any that she cared for.
That was the real shame, possessing loved ones. Possession of loved ones would make their dispossession even more painful.
He followed her scent and none of the other distractions such as Khi’ir’s various magical arts academies or mage guildhalls. He sensed she was headed east. He remembered those green eyes and those strands of red hair. She reminded him of a woman he once loved, but she was gone. Taken by a malicious spirit that he now sought to settle a score with, at least to ensure that she rested in peace. As he neared the east gate, he saw a fair number of denizens rushing past him from the easternmost gate of the city. It seemed a commotion and drew his interest.
He reached within two blocks. He could see the arcane frost still solidified and the arcane flame still burning the buildings and stalls. A large company of Khi’iri guards dispersed about the wreckage, gathering wounded comrades and helpless citizens. They were the signs of a confrontation, he could tell, and, further, the magic still burned and lingered in the air. He went about the burrough and pulled a D’homani boy.
The young lad with his simple sky blue kaftan and large dark brown eyes relayed everything with such enthusiasm and exaggeration. Paecus could tell he would make a great storyteller one day.
So the mage was here, and there was more in her company than he realized. They were travelers, and they started a fight with the city guards. They had escaped in various directions.
He turned around and glanced at Khi’ir, it had changed so much since he first came as a young boy. Then he turned away from the rubble and faced the gates. Two guards still manned the gates, and one halted him.
“A battle just occurred here, no one can leave the city without permission.”
Paecus gazed at the man, “I am a bounty hunter, I was looking for the people who did this,” he gestured to the debris that littered the road and the injured soldiers.
“Let me do my job,” Paecus spoke that time with a different tone, one that made the soldier shift, unbeknownst even to himself.
“Very well,” the guard stepped aside, his comrade followed likewise, somewhat confused.
He walked into the wide open untamed land.
Galtros Penrimore released an excess of energy that had built within his joints. He felt her magic imprinted within his mind. He had a target now, a moving one. He knew that she knew, or that she had some inkling of knowing. He left an impression on her mind, one of torment and pain.
He packed his necessities in a little adventurer’s sack, for he sensed it to be the moment to do so. She perhaps sought to flee from him, and he, by necessity, sought to chase her.
He possessed few things left to chase in this material world. Another one. Another shard. Another step closer to ending his meaningless existence.
He looked at his open window, a bird swept in and perched on the sill. Its head shifted about with rapidity and swung from side to side. It was a beautiful bird with a coat of lime green and white. Its beak was thin and small. Galtros observed the bird with patience and intent. Its movements seemed improvised. He watched it depart.
It flew from the sill, unattached.
-
Paecus Ixipas moved about the streets with ease along the crisscrossing paths of the city. He followed the scent that left a trail. Her magic, he recognized, had potential, but he regretted that she wasted it pursuing a cause that would lead to no fruitful end for her or any that she cared for.
That was the real shame, possessing loved ones. Possession of loved ones would make their dispossession even more painful.
He followed her scent and none of the other distractions such as Khi’ir’s various magical arts academies or mage guildhalls. He sensed she was headed east. He remembered those green eyes and those strands of red hair. She reminded him of a woman he once loved, but she was gone. Taken by a malicious spirit that he now sought to settle a score with, at least to ensure that she rested in peace. As he neared the east gate, he saw a fair number of denizens rushing past him from the easternmost gate of the city. It seemed a commotion and drew his interest.
He reached within two blocks. He could see the arcane frost still solidified and the arcane flame still burning the buildings and stalls. A large company of Khi’iri guards dispersed about the wreckage, gathering wounded comrades and helpless citizens. They were the signs of a confrontation, he could tell, and, further, the magic still burned and lingered in the air. He went about the burrough and pulled a D’homani boy.
The young lad with his simple sky blue kaftan and large dark brown eyes relayed everything with such enthusiasm and exaggeration. Paecus could tell he would make a great storyteller one day.
So the mage was here, and there was more in her company than he realized. They were travelers, and they started a fight with the city guards. They had escaped in various directions.
He turned around and glanced at Khi’ir, it had changed so much since he first came as a young boy. Then he turned away from the rubble and faced the gates. Two guards still manned the gates, and one halted him.
“A battle just occurred here, no one can leave the city without permission.”
Paecus gazed at the man, “I am a bounty hunter, I was looking for the people who did this,” he gestured to the debris that littered the road and the injured soldiers.
“Let me do my job,” Paecus spoke that time with a different tone, one that made the soldier shift, unbeknownst even to himself.
“Very well,” the guard stepped aside, his comrade followed likewise, somewhat confused.
He walked into the wide open untamed land.
The setting changes from Khi'ir to World of Skaerra
Into the harbor, pulled a ship. Very little was different about it from the many other vessels. However, unlike the countless merchant ships around it which hoped to profit from the season of Syel'Breh, it had other business to attend to.
Tumhathil's eyes slowly opened, his lids revealing a pair of legs below him, his head resting upon them. He felt warm;...safe. A gentle, female voice hummed above him as he inhaled the initial breath of consciousness. But who was this he was resting upon? Why did this moment feel so familiar? He closed his eyes again, listening to the woman hum...
...
His eyes shot open.
"Iya?"
Zilindar stares down at him a moment before blinking.
..."Get up, Hillitim."
Tumhathil rubbed his eyes and did as he was commanded, standing up from the deck, as the two beds they were provided were too small for him to comfortably sleep on. He did not care though. He had not slept-in in ages and here he was, waking up in the mid-afternoon. He almost felt guilty, as though he had taken something that was not his. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful feeling.
Too bad he knew the days to sleep in were now, once again, over.
Tumhathil and Zilindar stepped down the ramp to shore among men offloading crates from the ship's deck. Even when on a voyage with a completely different purpose, it seems there is always room for trade. The felidine could not help but think of Lucius' words.
"Ain't no rest for the wicked, I suppose"...
A man, who appears to be overseeing the whole operation, is approached by the captain of the crew and seems to converse with him for a moment before looking in the direction of the slave and master. He looks back to the captain, who nods, before committing to approach.
Zilindar steps forward, taking the initiative to assert himself as the one to talk to. Taking the queue, the man dressed in rough, Dhomani garb addresses the slave master in a heavy accent.
"I'm told you're hunting someone for my associate?"
Kail nods.
"Well then, gentlemen," he says, glancing at the both of them. "If you will please follow me."
----
It was too close for comfort. If Ya'weh, Zoni, Hans, and Tiberius had been but a moment slower in their mad dash aboard the ship...
"...Get aboard," ordered Tiberius.
"You, sir, are one hell of a friend!" Yelled Hans as he practically threw Ya'weh over his shoulders and helped her follow Tiberius onto the ship. Zoni held the rear as she rapidly knocked and loosed another arrow, yet again failing to find a home in one of the lightning-fast targets. As soon as Zoni stepped on deck, members of the crew, still confused at what was going on, hurried to lift up the ramp. Unfortunately, that would not be quite enough...
While the two assassins who reinforced the original slowed to a stop after seeing the gap from dock to ship, the first one that had attacked Hans did not falter. Rather, if anything, he increased his pace and looked as though he was going to try and make the jump. With the dexterity of a pouncing leopard, he hopped in full sprint onto a crate at the edge of the dock and leaped forward, landing on the deck of the ship after what would have been an impossible stunt for any regular person.
Zoni attempted to knock back another arrow but could not acquire one from her quiver before the assassin sent a dagger her way. With Zoni suppressed, the masked man raised his sword to strike the bar hand.
As Hans helplessly raised his hand out in front of him to protect himself, he found himself shoved aside by Tiberius and watched as the captain of the ship raised a crossbow and, after acquiring his target, launched a bolt into the man's chest at point-blank range. The assassin stumbled back with a gasp, struggling to maintain his footing. Zoni, having since recovered, already had an arrow knocked back. Her fingers slipped from their grasp on the string, loosing the arrow and planting it in the other side of the assassin's chest, causing him to fall back against the railing.
A member of the crew closed in, unsheathing a utility knife.
"Back!" Shouted Zoni to the man as she drew another arrow from her quiver and knocked it back. The crew member halted, letting Zoni move forward to unleash the arrow upon the assassin, pinning the mask to his face by the left eye slit. With the death blow dealt, the intruder expired, toppled over the rail and fell into the water.
Hans wiped a bead of sweat from his head. It had been a fair length of time since that encounter had ended but he still felt uneasy from it.
"I never properly thanked you for that save earlier..." Hans confessed from the seat across Tiberius' desk in his quarters. The sun has since begun to creep over the horizon, providing a limited source of light through the window.
"Which one?" The captain said through a grin as he removed a pipe from his coat and dusted it off on his clothing. "When I let you on or when I kept your head on your shoulders?"
"Both, I suppose," Hans said, twiddling his thumbs.
Tiberius placed the pipe between his lips.
"You didn't thank me for offering your friends a place to rest either."
"Yeah," Hans chuckled nervously.
Tiberius struck a match, lighting the tobacco in his pipe.
"In that case..." he said before taking a drag. "...why don't you make it up to me by telling me what that was all about?"
He paused.
"...And how you're surviving this long outside of that inn. I don't think I've ever seen you outside of that place in all the times I've been to Opynonias, actually."
"I don't work that much. I just regularly work nights. Didn't you know that?"
Tiberius removes the pipe and points the stem at Hans from across the desk.
"You're still the hardest worker I've ever known, and-hey-you mean to tell me you've never gone to the market before heading to work?"
The bar hand shrugs.
"I go after work when it first opens. Less crowded."
The captain looks at the man before lightly nodding his head and reinserting the pipe back into his mouth.
"No wonder you aren't that tired yet."
He shook his head.
"We're off-topic. What were those people after you for?"
"I don't know," Hans sighed. "Rumor has it among my patrons that people allegedly associated with the criminal underworld have been seen accompanied by men with blank, white masks, with the only features being eye slits but only when they've killed someone."
"You just described the bucket of shit we dumped over the side earlier..." Tiberius said flatly.
"That would be my point," Hans confirmed. "I don't know what I did to piss anyone off, let alone one of those people...Unless..."
Hans rifled through his memories for people he recently came into contact with who had any connections to individuals on the wrong side of the law.
...An easy feat, considering one of the few people he knows to fit that criteria just assaulted an unknown number of Imperial soldiers and then escaped slavery.
"...Yeah...I think I know what happened..."
Hans sighed.
"A certain friend of mine got into some trouble with a man named Avoni de Noppona a few months back and ended up enslaved as a gladiator because of him. She just recently escaped and I cleaned her up before giving her money for passage to Khi'ir. Maybe the wrong person saw. Maybe they told Avoni and he wasn't very pleased about her escape..."
"Hans, I didn't know you were a criminal!" Tiberius teases.
"Ah~go to Hell," Hans says swiping his palm down as if he were slapping his friend's words out of the air.
"Alright, well, I don't know the city like you do so fill me in. Who's this..." Tiberius waves his open hand around in a circle in front of him.
"...A-..I-Ivory?"
"-Avory," Hans corrects.
"-I know what I said.-So, this Avory character. What's so special about him?" Tiberius asks.
"Not too many people know this, but the guy's a crook. I don't know exactly what he does but he's got his fingers deep in the black market and he's got a lot of friends in town."
Tiberius lightly shakes his head.
"You can't go back there...None of you can."
"What should we do?" Hans asks.
"Well," Tiberius begins. "My crew is heading North. I can drop you all off at our next stop, if you want."
Hans pauses, thinking.
"...No...No, I need you to take us to Khi'ir."
Tiberius raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, I know you're smarter than that. The place is in the complete opposite direction from what I have planned. In fact, an entire ocean in the complete opposite direction from what I have planned."
"Just hear me out," Hans pleas. "By the time we get there, they will be celebrating Syel'Breh. So-"
"-Which is exactly why I'm not going there." Tiberius interrupts. "You don't think there's going to be a thousand-and-a-half ships there to trade alone? Every merchant knows what's up with that place. The smart ones stay back and sell for higher price where the demand is much higher."
"Buddy, I serve you people every night. I know what all that is about. Now, listen and follow along."
Hans stands.
"Merchants, they set up shop there for the week and what do they do?"
Tiberius shrugs.
"They sell whatever garbage they brought."
"Close," Hans says, holding up a finger. "They set the prices."
"Set the prices super-damn-high," adds Tiberius.
"You know why?" Hans asks.
"Because the Syakhi haggle like a corrupt tax collector," Tiberius answers.
"Exactly. But, what if you didn't?"
Tiberius squints at the man in front of him as if his skin just turned into a different color.
"Then everyone else would sell their items and I wouldn't?"
Hans holds up his finger again.
"...Not if you dropped your price before putting up the sign saying you won't haggle. They'll come to you to look at the price and leave but, if they can't get anyone else down below what they saw with you and they want it enough, they'll come back for it."
"I still wouldn't make enough for it all to be worth the time I'd have to commit," said Tiberius.
"Yeah," Hans admitted, "but do you remember when I set you up with that cargo swap a while back?"
Tiberius' expression drops.
"...Stop it."
But Hans presses on.
"Saved you a whole trip of loss. That other captain went to his original destination with your cargo and you even got to go home for a little while and visit your father, remember?-"
"-Hans, I hate my father's guts.-"
"-And you even made bank on that wine shipment he traded to you too.-"
"-Only because there was a problem with the lord's shipment.-"
"-Got a nice break after such a long string of voyages...-"
"-Alright..." Tiberius says, finally caving into his friend's push. "...Alright."
He leans back into his chair, taking a deep drag from his pipe.
"...Why the hell do you want to go there anyway? I guarantee decking your friend in the face for getting you in this mess isn't going to be anywhere near worth calling my dept to you for a trip across the damn ocean."
Hans chuckles at the thought.
"I'm not looking for revenge. If they came after me, they'll probably be hunting her next. It'd probably be for the best if I let her know what's going on and stuck together with her until things cooled down."
Tiberius nodded.
"That's probably for the best. What about those other girls you brought on bored?"
The bar hand rested an elbow on his palm and scratched his chin.
"I feel bad for dragging them into this whole mess. Perhaps they could help out while you're in Khi'ir. They are pretty tough after all. Is there any way you could accommodate them on the return trip?"
"I s'ppose," the captain said. "I'd talk it over with them first, though. They need to be apart of this plan if they are going to be so heavily affected by it."
"Yeah," agreed Hans. "I'll tell 'em."
----
Tumhathil sat in a room with his master. The strange-looking furniture was only dimly lit by the covered windows yet the felidin could feel the heat seeping through much more easily. Zilindar's bald head was clearly doing him no favors in keeping the sweat from dripping down.
Their guide had since abandoned them with instruction to wait until he returned after finding them a guide, yet Tumhathil could not help but feel forsaken. It had been a few hours since the man had left.
Finally, someone pushed aside the curtain which covered the entrance into their room. It was the guide.
"Follow me. He's right downstairs."
Their guide spoke in his thick accent as they were led through the house and down to the first floor.
"Apparently, the one you are after has caused a bit of a stir in the city and has escaped. The good news for us is that, as a result, she has procured the attention of the city guard and now they are offering a fair sum of silvers for her capture or demise. Upon the promise of an addition to the reward, I was able to get a rather skilled tracker with decent knowledge of the land."
The guide brushes another curtain aside and walks into the room previously hidden behind it, followed closely by the slave and master. A crossbow leans against one of the chairs. In the chair sits a rather thin but built man, wearing a mixture of leather and chain mail armor...
The man looks up through the coppergate helmet on his head and grins.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Tumhathil's eyes slowly opened, his lids revealing a pair of legs below him, his head resting upon them. He felt warm;...safe. A gentle, female voice hummed above him as he inhaled the initial breath of consciousness. But who was this he was resting upon? Why did this moment feel so familiar? He closed his eyes again, listening to the woman hum...
...
His eyes shot open.
"Iya?"
Zilindar stares down at him a moment before blinking.
..."Get up, Hillitim."
Tumhathil rubbed his eyes and did as he was commanded, standing up from the deck, as the two beds they were provided were too small for him to comfortably sleep on. He did not care though. He had not slept-in in ages and here he was, waking up in the mid-afternoon. He almost felt guilty, as though he had taken something that was not his. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful feeling.
Too bad he knew the days to sleep in were now, once again, over.
Tumhathil and Zilindar stepped down the ramp to shore among men offloading crates from the ship's deck. Even when on a voyage with a completely different purpose, it seems there is always room for trade. The felidine could not help but think of Lucius' words.
"Ain't no rest for the wicked, I suppose"...
A man, who appears to be overseeing the whole operation, is approached by the captain of the crew and seems to converse with him for a moment before looking in the direction of the slave and master. He looks back to the captain, who nods, before committing to approach.
Zilindar steps forward, taking the initiative to assert himself as the one to talk to. Taking the queue, the man dressed in rough, Dhomani garb addresses the slave master in a heavy accent.
"I'm told you're hunting someone for my associate?"
Kail nods.
"Well then, gentlemen," he says, glancing at the both of them. "If you will please follow me."
----
It was too close for comfort. If Ya'weh, Zoni, Hans, and Tiberius had been but a moment slower in their mad dash aboard the ship...
"...Get aboard," ordered Tiberius.
"You, sir, are one hell of a friend!" Yelled Hans as he practically threw Ya'weh over his shoulders and helped her follow Tiberius onto the ship. Zoni held the rear as she rapidly knocked and loosed another arrow, yet again failing to find a home in one of the lightning-fast targets. As soon as Zoni stepped on deck, members of the crew, still confused at what was going on, hurried to lift up the ramp. Unfortunately, that would not be quite enough...
While the two assassins who reinforced the original slowed to a stop after seeing the gap from dock to ship, the first one that had attacked Hans did not falter. Rather, if anything, he increased his pace and looked as though he was going to try and make the jump. With the dexterity of a pouncing leopard, he hopped in full sprint onto a crate at the edge of the dock and leaped forward, landing on the deck of the ship after what would have been an impossible stunt for any regular person.
Zoni attempted to knock back another arrow but could not acquire one from her quiver before the assassin sent a dagger her way. With Zoni suppressed, the masked man raised his sword to strike the bar hand.
As Hans helplessly raised his hand out in front of him to protect himself, he found himself shoved aside by Tiberius and watched as the captain of the ship raised a crossbow and, after acquiring his target, launched a bolt into the man's chest at point-blank range. The assassin stumbled back with a gasp, struggling to maintain his footing. Zoni, having since recovered, already had an arrow knocked back. Her fingers slipped from their grasp on the string, loosing the arrow and planting it in the other side of the assassin's chest, causing him to fall back against the railing.
A member of the crew closed in, unsheathing a utility knife.
"Back!" Shouted Zoni to the man as she drew another arrow from her quiver and knocked it back. The crew member halted, letting Zoni move forward to unleash the arrow upon the assassin, pinning the mask to his face by the left eye slit. With the death blow dealt, the intruder expired, toppled over the rail and fell into the water.
Hans wiped a bead of sweat from his head. It had been a fair length of time since that encounter had ended but he still felt uneasy from it.
"I never properly thanked you for that save earlier..." Hans confessed from the seat across Tiberius' desk in his quarters. The sun has since begun to creep over the horizon, providing a limited source of light through the window.
"Which one?" The captain said through a grin as he removed a pipe from his coat and dusted it off on his clothing. "When I let you on or when I kept your head on your shoulders?"
"Both, I suppose," Hans said, twiddling his thumbs.
Tiberius placed the pipe between his lips.
"You didn't thank me for offering your friends a place to rest either."
"Yeah," Hans chuckled nervously.
Tiberius struck a match, lighting the tobacco in his pipe.
"In that case..." he said before taking a drag. "...why don't you make it up to me by telling me what that was all about?"
He paused.
"...And how you're surviving this long outside of that inn. I don't think I've ever seen you outside of that place in all the times I've been to Opynonias, actually."
"I don't work that much. I just regularly work nights. Didn't you know that?"
Tiberius removes the pipe and points the stem at Hans from across the desk.
"You're still the hardest worker I've ever known, and-hey-you mean to tell me you've never gone to the market before heading to work?"
The bar hand shrugs.
"I go after work when it first opens. Less crowded."
The captain looks at the man before lightly nodding his head and reinserting the pipe back into his mouth.
"No wonder you aren't that tired yet."
He shook his head.
"We're off-topic. What were those people after you for?"
"I don't know," Hans sighed. "Rumor has it among my patrons that people allegedly associated with the criminal underworld have been seen accompanied by men with blank, white masks, with the only features being eye slits but only when they've killed someone."
"You just described the bucket of shit we dumped over the side earlier..." Tiberius said flatly.
"That would be my point," Hans confirmed. "I don't know what I did to piss anyone off, let alone one of those people...Unless..."
Hans rifled through his memories for people he recently came into contact with who had any connections to individuals on the wrong side of the law.
...An easy feat, considering one of the few people he knows to fit that criteria just assaulted an unknown number of Imperial soldiers and then escaped slavery.
"...Yeah...I think I know what happened..."
Hans sighed.
"A certain friend of mine got into some trouble with a man named Avoni de Noppona a few months back and ended up enslaved as a gladiator because of him. She just recently escaped and I cleaned her up before giving her money for passage to Khi'ir. Maybe the wrong person saw. Maybe they told Avoni and he wasn't very pleased about her escape..."
"Hans, I didn't know you were a criminal!" Tiberius teases.
"Ah~go to Hell," Hans says swiping his palm down as if he were slapping his friend's words out of the air.
"Alright, well, I don't know the city like you do so fill me in. Who's this..." Tiberius waves his open hand around in a circle in front of him.
"...A-..I-Ivory?"
"-Avory," Hans corrects.
"-I know what I said.-So, this Avory character. What's so special about him?" Tiberius asks.
"Not too many people know this, but the guy's a crook. I don't know exactly what he does but he's got his fingers deep in the black market and he's got a lot of friends in town."
Tiberius lightly shakes his head.
"You can't go back there...None of you can."
"What should we do?" Hans asks.
"Well," Tiberius begins. "My crew is heading North. I can drop you all off at our next stop, if you want."
Hans pauses, thinking.
"...No...No, I need you to take us to Khi'ir."
Tiberius raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, I know you're smarter than that. The place is in the complete opposite direction from what I have planned. In fact, an entire ocean in the complete opposite direction from what I have planned."
"Just hear me out," Hans pleas. "By the time we get there, they will be celebrating Syel'Breh. So-"
"-Which is exactly why I'm not going there." Tiberius interrupts. "You don't think there's going to be a thousand-and-a-half ships there to trade alone? Every merchant knows what's up with that place. The smart ones stay back and sell for higher price where the demand is much higher."
"Buddy, I serve you people every night. I know what all that is about. Now, listen and follow along."
Hans stands.
"Merchants, they set up shop there for the week and what do they do?"
Tiberius shrugs.
"They sell whatever garbage they brought."
"Close," Hans says, holding up a finger. "They set the prices."
"Set the prices super-damn-high," adds Tiberius.
"You know why?" Hans asks.
"Because the Syakhi haggle like a corrupt tax collector," Tiberius answers.
"Exactly. But, what if you didn't?"
Tiberius squints at the man in front of him as if his skin just turned into a different color.
"Then everyone else would sell their items and I wouldn't?"
Hans holds up his finger again.
"...Not if you dropped your price before putting up the sign saying you won't haggle. They'll come to you to look at the price and leave but, if they can't get anyone else down below what they saw with you and they want it enough, they'll come back for it."
"I still wouldn't make enough for it all to be worth the time I'd have to commit," said Tiberius.
"Yeah," Hans admitted, "but do you remember when I set you up with that cargo swap a while back?"
Tiberius' expression drops.
"...Stop it."
But Hans presses on.
"Saved you a whole trip of loss. That other captain went to his original destination with your cargo and you even got to go home for a little while and visit your father, remember?-"
"-Hans, I hate my father's guts.-"
"-And you even made bank on that wine shipment he traded to you too.-"
"-Only because there was a problem with the lord's shipment.-"
"-Got a nice break after such a long string of voyages...-"
"-Alright..." Tiberius says, finally caving into his friend's push. "...Alright."
He leans back into his chair, taking a deep drag from his pipe.
"...Why the hell do you want to go there anyway? I guarantee decking your friend in the face for getting you in this mess isn't going to be anywhere near worth calling my dept to you for a trip across the damn ocean."
Hans chuckles at the thought.
"I'm not looking for revenge. If they came after me, they'll probably be hunting her next. It'd probably be for the best if I let her know what's going on and stuck together with her until things cooled down."
Tiberius nodded.
"That's probably for the best. What about those other girls you brought on bored?"
The bar hand rested an elbow on his palm and scratched his chin.
"I feel bad for dragging them into this whole mess. Perhaps they could help out while you're in Khi'ir. They are pretty tough after all. Is there any way you could accommodate them on the return trip?"
"I s'ppose," the captain said. "I'd talk it over with them first, though. They need to be apart of this plan if they are going to be so heavily affected by it."
"Yeah," agreed Hans. "I'll tell 'em."
----
Tumhathil sat in a room with his master. The strange-looking furniture was only dimly lit by the covered windows yet the felidin could feel the heat seeping through much more easily. Zilindar's bald head was clearly doing him no favors in keeping the sweat from dripping down.
Their guide had since abandoned them with instruction to wait until he returned after finding them a guide, yet Tumhathil could not help but feel forsaken. It had been a few hours since the man had left.
Finally, someone pushed aside the curtain which covered the entrance into their room. It was the guide.
"Follow me. He's right downstairs."
Their guide spoke in his thick accent as they were led through the house and down to the first floor.
"Apparently, the one you are after has caused a bit of a stir in the city and has escaped. The good news for us is that, as a result, she has procured the attention of the city guard and now they are offering a fair sum of silvers for her capture or demise. Upon the promise of an addition to the reward, I was able to get a rather skilled tracker with decent knowledge of the land."
The guide brushes another curtain aside and walks into the room previously hidden behind it, followed closely by the slave and master. A crossbow leans against one of the chairs. In the chair sits a rather thin but built man, wearing a mixture of leather and chain mail armor...
The man looks up through the coppergate helmet on his head and grins.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The setting changes from World of Skaerra to Universe of Skaerra
Setting
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Nylae watched from afar, the stars blanketing her eyes and form. The never ending nyx coalesced around her. The celestial waters flowed behind her into a bottomless pool as she sat and played on her harp. The once-Aea Geiroesh bestowed her the instrument before he fell in the great war. The strings, she strummed and plucked, but her eyes cast a glance toward eternity and her mind thought of a million things.
Now she played the strings as a reminder of times disappeared before she played them as a reminder of times to come. A discord entered her melody, but only briefly before a reunification and harmonious rejoice. She sat with eternal patience and turned to face the silky waters and its radiance. Her eyes glowed at the reflection of herself, but the waters never rested still in the pool.
She felt it time to resume her duties, and thus she set aside the harp, a reminder of a friend long gone. A reminder of mistakes that needed rectification.
Princess Anundhel found herself within a land of shadows. The trees were bright white, as though they were spirits themselves. They stood outlined against the blackness of the sky. She felt lost, wandering in a land all alone. She could hear fierce cries.
“Maevra?” she turned around, no one to be seen.
“Ardassius?” she was alone.
Her breaths began to quicken, she felt fear.
She remembered that she stayed in an inn in Khi’ir, how did she find herself here?
Unseen howling. Blood curdling screams.
“Madness…” Anundhel whispered to herself, her first instinct demanded she search herself for something to defend with.
But she stood in nothing other her nightgown, her potions and concoctions gone. Her knives gone.
She was alone and defenseless. Helpless.
Then a single blue light shone in the distance beyond the shadowless tress, it was bright and beautiful. She could feel its warmth radiating without end. She felt inclined to seek it. As she drew closer, she could hear a voice calling for her to come.
Without much else to lose, the elven princess set off in that direction, seeking answers as she always did. Beyond the trees with no leaves, she stood before a fount of blue light shining from a hole within the ground. The hole’s brightness made it difficult for Anundhel to discern the source of the light.
A warm, rich voice spoke from the light. It sounded like that of her mother’s.
“Mother?”
“You must continue as you were. The journey proves perilous, but you must continue.”
The Princess did not speak because she felt hesitant but also fearful.
“I am your friend,” the light continued.
Then a face began to form from the light, that of a woman. Then her form, from the waist upward, began to take shape from the specks of light. They pieced together like sewn threads. It was not her mother, it was the spirit.
“Am I on the right path?” Anundhel finally spoke.
The face nodded.
“Who are you, spirit? Why did you come to me that time? Why have you not come to me since? Why do you come to me now? Where am I?”
Then the spirit disappeared. Along with the blue light, the black sky, and the shadowless trees.
Anundhel awoke in her bed, beads of warm sweat on her face. She looked around, she was back at her room in the inn. She exhaled, exhausted.
Now she played the strings as a reminder of times disappeared before she played them as a reminder of times to come. A discord entered her melody, but only briefly before a reunification and harmonious rejoice. She sat with eternal patience and turned to face the silky waters and its radiance. Her eyes glowed at the reflection of herself, but the waters never rested still in the pool.
She felt it time to resume her duties, and thus she set aside the harp, a reminder of a friend long gone. A reminder of mistakes that needed rectification.
-
Princess Anundhel found herself within a land of shadows. The trees were bright white, as though they were spirits themselves. They stood outlined against the blackness of the sky. She felt lost, wandering in a land all alone. She could hear fierce cries.
“Maevra?” she turned around, no one to be seen.
“Ardassius?” she was alone.
Her breaths began to quicken, she felt fear.
She remembered that she stayed in an inn in Khi’ir, how did she find herself here?
Unseen howling. Blood curdling screams.
“Madness…” Anundhel whispered to herself, her first instinct demanded she search herself for something to defend with.
But she stood in nothing other her nightgown, her potions and concoctions gone. Her knives gone.
She was alone and defenseless. Helpless.
Then a single blue light shone in the distance beyond the shadowless tress, it was bright and beautiful. She could feel its warmth radiating without end. She felt inclined to seek it. As she drew closer, she could hear a voice calling for her to come.
Without much else to lose, the elven princess set off in that direction, seeking answers as she always did. Beyond the trees with no leaves, she stood before a fount of blue light shining from a hole within the ground. The hole’s brightness made it difficult for Anundhel to discern the source of the light.
A warm, rich voice spoke from the light. It sounded like that of her mother’s.
“Mother?”
“You must continue as you were. The journey proves perilous, but you must continue.”
The Princess did not speak because she felt hesitant but also fearful.
“I am your friend,” the light continued.
Then a face began to form from the light, that of a woman. Then her form, from the waist upward, began to take shape from the specks of light. They pieced together like sewn threads. It was not her mother, it was the spirit.
“Am I on the right path?” Anundhel finally spoke.
The face nodded.
“Who are you, spirit? Why did you come to me that time? Why have you not come to me since? Why do you come to me now? Where am I?”
Then the spirit disappeared. Along with the blue light, the black sky, and the shadowless trees.
Anundhel awoke in her bed, beads of warm sweat on her face. She looked around, she was back at her room in the inn. She exhaled, exhausted.
The setting changes from Universe of Skaerra to Syakh
Setting
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Craggy land separated Khi’ir and Seirkent. Some good many plateaus protruded in the region, and many canyons winded throughout. A few trees stood here and there, surviving by their own accord. Giant rocks hung in mid-air as though suspended and frozen in time, leaving travelers and wanderers in amazement. Broken arches curved through the air reminiscent of waves just before they crashed.
A trio of riders galloped across the broken lands between Khi’ir and Seirkent. The wind rustled their hairs and hoods. Their swords, buckled to their hips, clattered as the horses’ hooves clopped.
Here and there, fields of lightning blue bell flowers and fire orange mallows began to sweep across the dirt plains. They teemed and danced in unison from side to side, like an ocean of life where there should have been none. The horses rose to a brisk pace as though they were messengers of war.
As the middle sun reached its highest point, and its sisters crested to its side, the three riders found sanctuary in a rocky alcove in one of the many rock formations. The stillness of the land gave them peace to watch for any pursuers or any merchants they wished to ambush. They dismounted and unwrapped their hoods, revealing themselves to be women. One Sivyne, one D’homani, and one Niessen.
The Sivyne woman’s voluptuous lips spread as she drew a breath inward. She stood a head taller than either of her sisters. She appeared to be the lead, and her athletic figure seemed matched only by her wiry hair which she kept fashioned into a bundle of dreadlocks with a few loose strands hanging by her eyes.
The D’homani woman tended to the horses and tethered them to appropriate rock spires. The land proved poor for grazing, thus she produced some vegetables from the baggage strapped to the saddles. The Niessen woman possessed loose and smooth blonde and brown hair. She set about finding a place to sit within the alcove under the shade. She pulled out a small wooden doll from her robes and unsheathed a purple jambiya slung in cloth. She began to carve at the wood like a trained craftsman, every so often blowing the shavings away.
Besides the wind and the calls of a few beasts, quiet surrounded them.
“You shouldn’t have killed them,” the Niessen woman spoke.
The Sivyne woman was taken aback, but she gave the words some thought before responding, “They were pigs, they deserved to die,” the Sivyne woman did not look at the Niessen woman in the eye as she said this.
The Niessen woman looked up from her doll, only to see the back of her sister turned toward her. She seemed emotionless.
The Niessen woman sighed, “But we’re just thieves, not bandits or murderers.”
The D’homani woman looked away from the horses as she fed them.
“No Sada, we fight against injustice. The Khi’iri city watch is full of pigs, we did our part by weakening their ranks by a few.”
“But we never kill…” Sada returned to carving her wood doll, her voice softening and her gaze focused on the wood doll, “Besides that, we drew unnecessary attention, what if they begin to search for us? You didn’t have to kill them Naqiba, we were…”
“I’m sure the elf and that mercenary will take the burden of the blame. And even if they don’t…”
“But…”
“Enough. The deed has been done. There is no use dwelling on it,” Naqiba turned, her dark brown eyes trained on Sada, “And who I choose to kill is my decision, so don’t start moralizing with me. Need I remind you of how your mother died?”
Sada’s eyes flashed at Naqiba. They exchanged a long duel of stares. Naqiba relaxed her stance.
“I am not your enemy, Sada, they are,” Naqiba reminded her, “We are sisters, we must always remember who our enemy is.”
Sada said nothing as she returned to her doll. The silence returned for a moment.
Naqiba then addressed both of her companions, “Milo has told us of their plans. They journey to Seirkent, perhaps in a week. We will rally a few other brother and sister thieves to meet them outside the city before then. I’ve already assigned a few others to follow them as we speak.”
“Can we trust him?” Sada asked.
“We’ve done this with him before. This is nothing new,” Naqiba pulled her khopesh from its scabbard part way to observe the blade’s edge, “But the stakes are much higher for his rat friend.”
A trio of riders galloped across the broken lands between Khi’ir and Seirkent. The wind rustled their hairs and hoods. Their swords, buckled to their hips, clattered as the horses’ hooves clopped.
Here and there, fields of lightning blue bell flowers and fire orange mallows began to sweep across the dirt plains. They teemed and danced in unison from side to side, like an ocean of life where there should have been none. The horses rose to a brisk pace as though they were messengers of war.
As the middle sun reached its highest point, and its sisters crested to its side, the three riders found sanctuary in a rocky alcove in one of the many rock formations. The stillness of the land gave them peace to watch for any pursuers or any merchants they wished to ambush. They dismounted and unwrapped their hoods, revealing themselves to be women. One Sivyne, one D’homani, and one Niessen.
The Sivyne woman’s voluptuous lips spread as she drew a breath inward. She stood a head taller than either of her sisters. She appeared to be the lead, and her athletic figure seemed matched only by her wiry hair which she kept fashioned into a bundle of dreadlocks with a few loose strands hanging by her eyes.
The D’homani woman tended to the horses and tethered them to appropriate rock spires. The land proved poor for grazing, thus she produced some vegetables from the baggage strapped to the saddles. The Niessen woman possessed loose and smooth blonde and brown hair. She set about finding a place to sit within the alcove under the shade. She pulled out a small wooden doll from her robes and unsheathed a purple jambiya slung in cloth. She began to carve at the wood like a trained craftsman, every so often blowing the shavings away.
Besides the wind and the calls of a few beasts, quiet surrounded them.
“You shouldn’t have killed them,” the Niessen woman spoke.
The Sivyne woman was taken aback, but she gave the words some thought before responding, “They were pigs, they deserved to die,” the Sivyne woman did not look at the Niessen woman in the eye as she said this.
The Niessen woman looked up from her doll, only to see the back of her sister turned toward her. She seemed emotionless.
The Niessen woman sighed, “But we’re just thieves, not bandits or murderers.”
The D’homani woman looked away from the horses as she fed them.
“No Sada, we fight against injustice. The Khi’iri city watch is full of pigs, we did our part by weakening their ranks by a few.”
“But we never kill…” Sada returned to carving her wood doll, her voice softening and her gaze focused on the wood doll, “Besides that, we drew unnecessary attention, what if they begin to search for us? You didn’t have to kill them Naqiba, we were…”
“I’m sure the elf and that mercenary will take the burden of the blame. And even if they don’t…”
“But…”
“Enough. The deed has been done. There is no use dwelling on it,” Naqiba turned, her dark brown eyes trained on Sada, “And who I choose to kill is my decision, so don’t start moralizing with me. Need I remind you of how your mother died?”
Sada’s eyes flashed at Naqiba. They exchanged a long duel of stares. Naqiba relaxed her stance.
“I am not your enemy, Sada, they are,” Naqiba reminded her, “We are sisters, we must always remember who our enemy is.”
Sada said nothing as she returned to her doll. The silence returned for a moment.
Naqiba then addressed both of her companions, “Milo has told us of their plans. They journey to Seirkent, perhaps in a week. We will rally a few other brother and sister thieves to meet them outside the city before then. I’ve already assigned a few others to follow them as we speak.”
“Can we trust him?” Sada asked.
“We’ve done this with him before. This is nothing new,” Naqiba pulled her khopesh from its scabbard part way to observe the blade’s edge, “But the stakes are much higher for his rat friend.”
The setting changes from Syakh to Universe of Skaerra
After Zoni had taken action against the assassin, ending their pathetic and evil life, she needed to rest.
“I’ll go check on Ya’weh,” she told Hans and nodded to Tiberius.
Tiberius smirked at her. She felt good. Almost as though she had earned her place on the ship. A sense of respect for her radiated from the ship-mates. It felt nice. Zoni believed Ya’ always felt this way, and it felt nice to experience. As soon as they had gotten on the ship, Ya’ went below to rest, she thought the worst was past.
Zoni turned the corner after the last stair and saw Ya’weh in the sleeping “quarters,” if they could be called that. A small area of bunk-beds and a couple of hammocks tucked away. Zoni noticed two other men sleeping in the bunks and she kept her voice down. Ya’ was sweating and seemed pale, for a Sivynne anyway. Her tattoos were sporadically lighting up, giving Zoni a bad feeling in her gut.
“Ya'?” Zoni said lightly as she kneeled next to her hammock. She touched her shoulder and lightly shook her. Ya’ was now turning in her sleep.
Ya’weh looked at her twin, Shkiran. She was his physical match, but she knew as soon as he went through the growth period, he would be far superior to her in strength and speed. She prayed she would be able to be a suitable warrior and defend her family's honor, as well as those who were unable to defend themselves. She had started feeling odd things about her as she neared the growth time. She and her brother were thirteen worldly rotations old now. They had a lot to learn still, but were at least as good as the other village’s sixteen rotations. Ya’weh was by far the most spiritual of the family. It was her older brother who taught her all about spirituality. She realized when she prayed she felt “tapped in,” in the spiritual way, but something more…
Three days later during a foot race between Ya’ and her brother, Ya’ noticed that when she wanted something badly, she could start to get it. She had always been just slower than her brother, but today when they raced, she wanted it so badly, she actually beat him, by quite a bit.
Gasping for breath Shkiran asked, “How did you beat me by that much Ya’weh?” He was out of breath but she could tell he was serious.
Without hesitation or even breathlessness she responded, “I’m not quite sure. I just know I wanted it. And I’m not even tired now.” She smirked at his frustration.
“Mother, Ya’weh has abilities!” Shkiran yelled the following day, after another loss.
“Ya’weh?! Is this true?” She asked astounded.
“I don’t know.” Ya’weh said indifferently. “I just know sometimes when I want something bad enough I can get it. I don’t know if that is magic or something else.” Her brother scoffed at this comment. “Well, scoff all you’d like, but I have won the last two races. Maybe praying would behoove you as well!” He glared at her and she stuck out her tongue at him. They silently smirked at each other. They were so close, being first friends, and lifelong friends, rarely getting into any real fights. Shkiran was just a sore loser
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Your uncle has pulled some strings to get into the magical university!" Ya'weh's father said with excitement.
"The senator?" Shkiran asked smugly.
"Yes, the senator," their mother said softly. "Ya'weh was approved for full tuition given her family circumstances, and the diverse background and ability they believe her to have." She smiled at Ya'.
"Did they say what her powers are?" Shkiran asked half-heartedly.
"They won't tell me until I finish my intro classes," Ya' replied.
"Aren't you something special," Shkiran said with distaste.
Ya'weh's parents shot each other quick looks at his comment.
Days later...
“I hope you never come back!” Shkiran screamed at Ya’weh. She stood there, with her stuff on the wagon. She knew he was upset, but she had no idea why. “You and your magic friends are going to have so much fun!” he taunted her. “You’ll forget all about us and never come back. We will never be as powerful as ‘Ya’weh the Great,’ he said in a mocking tone. Ya’weh began crying. Her mother walked over to Shkiran and grabbed him by the shoulder. She then proceeded to whack him on the bottom so hard everyone went silent. Ya’weh stared. Her father nodded in agreement to his wife. Shkiran refused to look at Ya’weh as tears ran down his cheeks in pain. Ya’weh’s tears were from pain too, just a different kind.
Ya'weh shot up. She looked at Zoni, turned away, and emptied her stomach onto the floor. Zoni patted her on the back.
"Ya'weh, whatever you are blaming yourself for, or what ever you are trying to suffer for, you need to stop and just use your abilities to heal." Ya' shot Zoni a glare who did not back down. She laid back down, sighed, and shut her eyes. As she began to meditate her tattoos lit up. She heard Zoni leave and head back up top and then she turned her focus to healing.
“I’ll go check on Ya’weh,” she told Hans and nodded to Tiberius.
Tiberius smirked at her. She felt good. Almost as though she had earned her place on the ship. A sense of respect for her radiated from the ship-mates. It felt nice. Zoni believed Ya’ always felt this way, and it felt nice to experience. As soon as they had gotten on the ship, Ya’ went below to rest, she thought the worst was past.
Zoni turned the corner after the last stair and saw Ya’weh in the sleeping “quarters,” if they could be called that. A small area of bunk-beds and a couple of hammocks tucked away. Zoni noticed two other men sleeping in the bunks and she kept her voice down. Ya’ was sweating and seemed pale, for a Sivynne anyway. Her tattoos were sporadically lighting up, giving Zoni a bad feeling in her gut.
“Ya'?” Zoni said lightly as she kneeled next to her hammock. She touched her shoulder and lightly shook her. Ya’ was now turning in her sleep.
Ya’weh looked at her twin, Shkiran. She was his physical match, but she knew as soon as he went through the growth period, he would be far superior to her in strength and speed. She prayed she would be able to be a suitable warrior and defend her family's honor, as well as those who were unable to defend themselves. She had started feeling odd things about her as she neared the growth time. She and her brother were thirteen worldly rotations old now. They had a lot to learn still, but were at least as good as the other village’s sixteen rotations. Ya’weh was by far the most spiritual of the family. It was her older brother who taught her all about spirituality. She realized when she prayed she felt “tapped in,” in the spiritual way, but something more…
Three days later during a foot race between Ya’ and her brother, Ya’ noticed that when she wanted something badly, she could start to get it. She had always been just slower than her brother, but today when they raced, she wanted it so badly, she actually beat him, by quite a bit.
Gasping for breath Shkiran asked, “How did you beat me by that much Ya’weh?” He was out of breath but she could tell he was serious.
Without hesitation or even breathlessness she responded, “I’m not quite sure. I just know I wanted it. And I’m not even tired now.” She smirked at his frustration.
“Mother, Ya’weh has abilities!” Shkiran yelled the following day, after another loss.
“Ya’weh?! Is this true?” She asked astounded.
“I don’t know.” Ya’weh said indifferently. “I just know sometimes when I want something bad enough I can get it. I don’t know if that is magic or something else.” Her brother scoffed at this comment. “Well, scoff all you’d like, but I have won the last two races. Maybe praying would behoove you as well!” He glared at her and she stuck out her tongue at him. They silently smirked at each other. They were so close, being first friends, and lifelong friends, rarely getting into any real fights. Shkiran was just a sore loser
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Your uncle has pulled some strings to get into the magical university!" Ya'weh's father said with excitement.
"The senator?" Shkiran asked smugly.
"Yes, the senator," their mother said softly. "Ya'weh was approved for full tuition given her family circumstances, and the diverse background and ability they believe her to have." She smiled at Ya'.
"Did they say what her powers are?" Shkiran asked half-heartedly.
"They won't tell me until I finish my intro classes," Ya' replied.
"Aren't you something special," Shkiran said with distaste.
Ya'weh's parents shot each other quick looks at his comment.
Days later...
“I hope you never come back!” Shkiran screamed at Ya’weh. She stood there, with her stuff on the wagon. She knew he was upset, but she had no idea why. “You and your magic friends are going to have so much fun!” he taunted her. “You’ll forget all about us and never come back. We will never be as powerful as ‘Ya’weh the Great,’ he said in a mocking tone. Ya’weh began crying. Her mother walked over to Shkiran and grabbed him by the shoulder. She then proceeded to whack him on the bottom so hard everyone went silent. Ya’weh stared. Her father nodded in agreement to his wife. Shkiran refused to look at Ya’weh as tears ran down his cheeks in pain. Ya’weh’s tears were from pain too, just a different kind.
Ya'weh shot up. She looked at Zoni, turned away, and emptied her stomach onto the floor. Zoni patted her on the back.
"Ya'weh, whatever you are blaming yourself for, or what ever you are trying to suffer for, you need to stop and just use your abilities to heal." Ya' shot Zoni a glare who did not back down. She laid back down, sighed, and shut her eyes. As she began to meditate her tattoos lit up. She heard Zoni leave and head back up top and then she turned her focus to healing.
The setting changes from Universe of Skaerra to Dessor
Co-written by Tyce
As Zoni climbed the ladderwell to the main deck, Hans approached with a hand gesturing to her in a single wave to grab her attention.
"Oh, perfect. I was going to come down and talk to you anyway. How's your friend doing? Ya'weh was her name?"
"Yes, that is her name," Zoni said trying to not sound too tired or annoyed. "She had not been healing herself, but now she is." Zoni eyed Hans suspiciously, "But that is all I feel comfortable sharing about her abilities right now." After a quickly-staled moment of silence, Zoni asked, "What did you need me for?"
Hans looked at the girl, wondering what was so special about her friend's abilities that made her so protective, even against an ally, but chose to discard it rather than voice any questions. Instead, he answered the question which had been posed to him.
"I'm sorry to have dragged you ladies into my apparent problems but I'm afraid we won't be docking as soon as you may have guessed. The people who attacked me aren't exactly employed by the most outstanding example of a citizen so Opynonias is no longer safe to go back to for a while..."
As the words left his mouth, Hans could not help but think of his parents and mentally pray for their safety.
"...I have my friend, Tiberius, the Captain of this vessel, ready to set course but...I need your approval on the destination I had in mind first."
"And what destination is that?" Zoni asked, now feeling the slightest bit of anxiety.
Hans sighed.
"...I believe the reason why I'm being targeted is because of a certain friend of mine who got into trouble with the guy first and I helped her skip town. Now, I need to find her but the issue with that is...Well, she's currently on a ship to Khi'ir. It isn't a final destination for the two of you, though! I was able to convince Tiberius to take you both back with him after he sells his cargo there but it'll be a couple weeks that you'll stay there before you guys head back to Dessor."
"We may need to stay longer," Ya'weh said lightly as she slowly came above deck. Zoni scanned her leg and saw a definite scar but knew in time it would fade to a thin line. "I have a higher purpose in Khi'ir, the reason we stumbled upon you was trying to find passage. What Zoni does is her business, but as far as I know she is with me for the long haul." She weakly smiled at Zoni who nodded back. Ya put her hand on Hans shoulder to help support herself. "What are the odds your friend is an escaped gladiator?" She asked without sarcasm.
Hans grinned with embarrasment at the titan of a woman, though more out of who his friend actually is than his association with an escaped slave.
"Yes, actually. That trouble I had mentioned she got herself into with that guy was apparently what got her sold into the business."
Hans' grin slipped though, as he continued.
"I can't leave her to find out about this on her own. If they came after me, they'll come after her too and I couldn't let that happen..."
Zoni smirked, "Odds are we know your friend. Ya'weh could probably handle two of those monsters using her abilities, and if your friend lived long enough as a gladiator to still make an escape, she may hold her own against one. With training, perhaps I can too."
"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if you knew her," said Hans. "It almost seems as though everyone in the Empire enjoys going to the games other than me."
Ya looked at Hans and smiled, "Perhaps our time on the sea should be used to train?" Ya'weh never thought of a time as not well suited for training. Her leg stung momentarily with pain. Zoni and Hans noticed her grimace. "Worry not, you'll have to train with shipmen or one another, I'll give feedback. And my leg will heal, I'm just taking my time. I haven't been injured in a while and I am using this time to remember why I don't like to be hurt. Plus, training on unsteady ground will make you better on steady ground."
Hans looked over to some of the working men on deck, wondering if any would actually want to train or how many even had any real fighting experience.
Ya switched her gaze to Hans and turned her grip into a more supportive one for him. "Don't worry, as long as we are together, and we are able to, we will protect you and your friends. If it weren't for you we wouldn't be on the ship. You know Hans, the history books may have a place for you when my dream comes to fruition."
"The history books? I don't think I'm the kind of person that's written about." Hans chuckled out, though he could not help but wonder...
What exactly is this woman's dream?
As the barhand thought to himself, the ship lurched against a wave. Holding Ya'weh with his other arm to steady her, he let her slide back to take a seat on a nearby barrel.
"Well, I guess it's decided then. To Khi'ir," Hans confirmed before bringing his full attention to Ya'weh.
"Though first, let me see what I can do about your injury..."
As Zoni climbed the ladderwell to the main deck, Hans approached with a hand gesturing to her in a single wave to grab her attention.
"Oh, perfect. I was going to come down and talk to you anyway. How's your friend doing? Ya'weh was her name?"
"Yes, that is her name," Zoni said trying to not sound too tired or annoyed. "She had not been healing herself, but now she is." Zoni eyed Hans suspiciously, "But that is all I feel comfortable sharing about her abilities right now." After a quickly-staled moment of silence, Zoni asked, "What did you need me for?"
Hans looked at the girl, wondering what was so special about her friend's abilities that made her so protective, even against an ally, but chose to discard it rather than voice any questions. Instead, he answered the question which had been posed to him.
"I'm sorry to have dragged you ladies into my apparent problems but I'm afraid we won't be docking as soon as you may have guessed. The people who attacked me aren't exactly employed by the most outstanding example of a citizen so Opynonias is no longer safe to go back to for a while..."
As the words left his mouth, Hans could not help but think of his parents and mentally pray for their safety.
"...I have my friend, Tiberius, the Captain of this vessel, ready to set course but...I need your approval on the destination I had in mind first."
"And what destination is that?" Zoni asked, now feeling the slightest bit of anxiety.
Hans sighed.
"...I believe the reason why I'm being targeted is because of a certain friend of mine who got into trouble with the guy first and I helped her skip town. Now, I need to find her but the issue with that is...Well, she's currently on a ship to Khi'ir. It isn't a final destination for the two of you, though! I was able to convince Tiberius to take you both back with him after he sells his cargo there but it'll be a couple weeks that you'll stay there before you guys head back to Dessor."
"We may need to stay longer," Ya'weh said lightly as she slowly came above deck. Zoni scanned her leg and saw a definite scar but knew in time it would fade to a thin line. "I have a higher purpose in Khi'ir, the reason we stumbled upon you was trying to find passage. What Zoni does is her business, but as far as I know she is with me for the long haul." She weakly smiled at Zoni who nodded back. Ya put her hand on Hans shoulder to help support herself. "What are the odds your friend is an escaped gladiator?" She asked without sarcasm.
Hans grinned with embarrasment at the titan of a woman, though more out of who his friend actually is than his association with an escaped slave.
"Yes, actually. That trouble I had mentioned she got herself into with that guy was apparently what got her sold into the business."
Hans' grin slipped though, as he continued.
"I can't leave her to find out about this on her own. If they came after me, they'll come after her too and I couldn't let that happen..."
Zoni smirked, "Odds are we know your friend. Ya'weh could probably handle two of those monsters using her abilities, and if your friend lived long enough as a gladiator to still make an escape, she may hold her own against one. With training, perhaps I can too."
"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if you knew her," said Hans. "It almost seems as though everyone in the Empire enjoys going to the games other than me."
Ya looked at Hans and smiled, "Perhaps our time on the sea should be used to train?" Ya'weh never thought of a time as not well suited for training. Her leg stung momentarily with pain. Zoni and Hans noticed her grimace. "Worry not, you'll have to train with shipmen or one another, I'll give feedback. And my leg will heal, I'm just taking my time. I haven't been injured in a while and I am using this time to remember why I don't like to be hurt. Plus, training on unsteady ground will make you better on steady ground."
Hans looked over to some of the working men on deck, wondering if any would actually want to train or how many even had any real fighting experience.
Ya switched her gaze to Hans and turned her grip into a more supportive one for him. "Don't worry, as long as we are together, and we are able to, we will protect you and your friends. If it weren't for you we wouldn't be on the ship. You know Hans, the history books may have a place for you when my dream comes to fruition."
"The history books? I don't think I'm the kind of person that's written about." Hans chuckled out, though he could not help but wonder...
What exactly is this woman's dream?
As the barhand thought to himself, the ship lurched against a wave. Holding Ya'weh with his other arm to steady her, he let her slide back to take a seat on a nearby barrel.
"Well, I guess it's decided then. To Khi'ir," Hans confirmed before bringing his full attention to Ya'weh.
"Though first, let me see what I can do about your injury..."
29th Breh
Jolloc and Bertholdt stood atop a low cliff and viewed their surroundings. They managed to escape several hundred or so paces from the city. They could still see a vague outline of Khi'ir's minarets in the distance along with other odd curved and pointed shapes.
“Where are they, where could they have possibly gone?” Bertholdt's eyes scanned the sandy horizon.
Jolloc shook his head, “I don’t know, maybe they already made their way to Seirkent.”
Bertholdt paced, “This is bad, we barely started and I’ve already lost the people I’m supposed to guide.”
“We, we lost them, Bert. But they’re smart,” Jolloc retrieved an apple from his sack and chewed, “And you gave them the little maps, we’ll just have to get to Seirkent without them and meet up. Trust that we meet them there if not along the way.”
The muscii wavered and waited before responding, “I suppose you’re right, but we can wait a little further.”
“Did you happen to leave them with any provisions or coin?”
The muscii stared at the orc.
-
Two Days Later.
An extravagant pair of feathery wings. A large black hammer. An interminable scowl.
Each of them seemed to make an odd grouping, but they all shared some similarities of character. They belonged to a class of independent people with few friends in this land. Though, that could be said of everyone on the quest.
Huo, Niobe, and Sanvi wandered through the cracked and craggy land for two days. They had escaped the terrifying and deceitful mirages, but had yet to see their comrades.
“You can quit yer scowlin’,” Niobe suggested.
Huo glanced at her. He relaxed his features, and he could feel some tension escape from his face.
The Osu paused to glance at the surrounding desert, which reminded him of the times when he traveled with Dhaxi throughout Syakh and the Empire. They never ventured past the seaport cities in Syakh though. He beheld the great expanse with its many rock formations and canyons and little bugs and creatures.
The wind reminded him that he was free. He possessed freedom, but he did not feel free.
“Ye’d be a far better option for women in wantin’ with that look,” the dwarf joked once she saw his changed face.
Though how much more she could joke was suspect. They had little water left and they needed to conserve what little they possessed. Even the dwarf, more of a loner and self-sufficient than the rest, felt moved to partake in their collective survival.
They caught whatever they believed they could eat, and Huo roasted it with a small flame of his own. Little vermin skittered across the wind washed land, that was a reprieve at least. The heat reached its high point at midday. Yet, no sign of their companions made them consider this quest their own, and at some point, they might meet again at intended checkpoints. If indeed, their comrades had survived and so long as they moved at the same pace as each other. Yet there was no way of knowing. They each feared the worst.
“We might be the only ones,” Huo spoke.
“Have some hope, the deserts are never empty,” Niobe said, she still managed to pull the hammer along.
It carved a line through the dirt. It seemed the dwarf did not care if it dirtied. The winged girl kept one wing to serve as shade, but the other wing dragged along the sand. Other than that, not a single word escaped her, until...
A rumble.
“What was that?” Sanvi’s eyes darted across the horizon.
Her expression copied by the other two. Each of them, though exhausted, still sensed something about to happen.
Then it erupted from the ground, the sand showered like a mist. Rocks flew. The ground in front of them submerged and sank in crevices and fissures. Right before them, and shook the earth. They retreated several steps as the dust and sand cleared to reveal a golem with three dots on its supposed head, each glowing red like sigils. This creature belonged to the earth and sand, rocks built its joints. It towered over them like a building.
Then, with a single gaping maw underneath the red dots, it roared and sent several the skittering critters to find shelter.
Niobe whispered.
“Run.”
Without a second thought and nothing but the quickest pace that their legs could carry them, they sprinted across the expanse. The sky-high golem roared. It stumbled at a pace befitting for rocks and stones. It staggered and swayed with a child taking its first steps. Its arms, near the length of its whole form, and uneven in compared to one another, swung wide with each step. Each step kicked up rocks.
Sanvi led the group with her wings, she flapped with effort and kept ahead of Huo and Niobe.
Huo glanced back at the dwarf, “Hurry up, that thing is gaining on us!”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine!” Niobe cried back.
Huo realized they could not outrun the beast. Then Sanvi shrieked, she crashed into the sand on the ground, perhaps by exhaustion.
The Osu ran to lift her to her feet.
“Strained,” she gasped, her face paled by sun, she lifted her left hand, a swirl of yellow aura coalesced around it until it disappeared.
She stroked her wing, attempting to repair whatever strain that touched her muscles.
“We need to hide,” the Kaleth urged, all the while, the rock golem continued its pursuit.
Huo glanced back at Niobe. He watched the dwarf spin around and drew in a large breath. Then she pulled up her hammer and slammed it into the ground, sending a ripple through the earth. The golem lost its footing for a brief second before it recovered and chased them with greater vigor.
He set the Kaleth down and rushed back toward the golem. Then he leapt and threw a fist, a ball of flame erupted and hit the creature around its dots, which may have been its eyes.
Then he ran in another direction away from either the golem and Sanvi, all the while throwing fists of flames at the creature.
“Get her to safety! I’ll distract it, I can run faster,” it was true, the dwarf had shorter legs, and now that Sanvi strained a wing, the Osu moved the quickest.
Huo wondered if this was his first attempt at nobility, but he kept his eyes focus on the creature, more flow spent on generating and manipulating flames. The dwarf nodded and ran back to Sanvi, the two of them propped each other up and headed for the nearest canyon.
The creature took the bait and disengaged from the other two to pursue the pugilist’s tangent. Huo ran as far as his feet could take him, and, once the dwarf and Kaleth disappeared, he realized he had no strategy to rid himself of the golem. He cursed under his breath and tried to think of a plan, all the while realizing his stamina fading.
He ran for how long, he did not know, but the golem kept on his heels. He could see a bright light ahead, and hear familiar voices. Or maybe, that was his mind giving way to exhaustion.
He collapsed in the sand, his eyes blinked, and his head throbbed with the sensation of the golem’s footsteps shaking the ground. Then blackness.
Jolloc and Bertholdt stood atop a low cliff and viewed their surroundings. They managed to escape several hundred or so paces from the city. They could still see a vague outline of Khi'ir's minarets in the distance along with other odd curved and pointed shapes.
“Where are they, where could they have possibly gone?” Bertholdt's eyes scanned the sandy horizon.
Jolloc shook his head, “I don’t know, maybe they already made their way to Seirkent.”
Bertholdt paced, “This is bad, we barely started and I’ve already lost the people I’m supposed to guide.”
“We, we lost them, Bert. But they’re smart,” Jolloc retrieved an apple from his sack and chewed, “And you gave them the little maps, we’ll just have to get to Seirkent without them and meet up. Trust that we meet them there if not along the way.”
The muscii wavered and waited before responding, “I suppose you’re right, but we can wait a little further.”
“Did you happen to leave them with any provisions or coin?”
The muscii stared at the orc.
-
Two Days Later.
An extravagant pair of feathery wings. A large black hammer. An interminable scowl.
Each of them seemed to make an odd grouping, but they all shared some similarities of character. They belonged to a class of independent people with few friends in this land. Though, that could be said of everyone on the quest.
Huo, Niobe, and Sanvi wandered through the cracked and craggy land for two days. They had escaped the terrifying and deceitful mirages, but had yet to see their comrades.
“You can quit yer scowlin’,” Niobe suggested.
Huo glanced at her. He relaxed his features, and he could feel some tension escape from his face.
The Osu paused to glance at the surrounding desert, which reminded him of the times when he traveled with Dhaxi throughout Syakh and the Empire. They never ventured past the seaport cities in Syakh though. He beheld the great expanse with its many rock formations and canyons and little bugs and creatures.
The wind reminded him that he was free. He possessed freedom, but he did not feel free.
“Ye’d be a far better option for women in wantin’ with that look,” the dwarf joked once she saw his changed face.
Though how much more she could joke was suspect. They had little water left and they needed to conserve what little they possessed. Even the dwarf, more of a loner and self-sufficient than the rest, felt moved to partake in their collective survival.
They caught whatever they believed they could eat, and Huo roasted it with a small flame of his own. Little vermin skittered across the wind washed land, that was a reprieve at least. The heat reached its high point at midday. Yet, no sign of their companions made them consider this quest their own, and at some point, they might meet again at intended checkpoints. If indeed, their comrades had survived and so long as they moved at the same pace as each other. Yet there was no way of knowing. They each feared the worst.
“We might be the only ones,” Huo spoke.
“Have some hope, the deserts are never empty,” Niobe said, she still managed to pull the hammer along.
It carved a line through the dirt. It seemed the dwarf did not care if it dirtied. The winged girl kept one wing to serve as shade, but the other wing dragged along the sand. Other than that, not a single word escaped her, until...
A rumble.
“What was that?” Sanvi’s eyes darted across the horizon.
Her expression copied by the other two. Each of them, though exhausted, still sensed something about to happen.
Then it erupted from the ground, the sand showered like a mist. Rocks flew. The ground in front of them submerged and sank in crevices and fissures. Right before them, and shook the earth. They retreated several steps as the dust and sand cleared to reveal a golem with three dots on its supposed head, each glowing red like sigils. This creature belonged to the earth and sand, rocks built its joints. It towered over them like a building.
Then, with a single gaping maw underneath the red dots, it roared and sent several the skittering critters to find shelter.
Niobe whispered.
“Run.”
Without a second thought and nothing but the quickest pace that their legs could carry them, they sprinted across the expanse. The sky-high golem roared. It stumbled at a pace befitting for rocks and stones. It staggered and swayed with a child taking its first steps. Its arms, near the length of its whole form, and uneven in compared to one another, swung wide with each step. Each step kicked up rocks.
Sanvi led the group with her wings, she flapped with effort and kept ahead of Huo and Niobe.
Huo glanced back at the dwarf, “Hurry up, that thing is gaining on us!”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine!” Niobe cried back.
Huo realized they could not outrun the beast. Then Sanvi shrieked, she crashed into the sand on the ground, perhaps by exhaustion.
The Osu ran to lift her to her feet.
“Strained,” she gasped, her face paled by sun, she lifted her left hand, a swirl of yellow aura coalesced around it until it disappeared.
She stroked her wing, attempting to repair whatever strain that touched her muscles.
“We need to hide,” the Kaleth urged, all the while, the rock golem continued its pursuit.
Huo glanced back at Niobe. He watched the dwarf spin around and drew in a large breath. Then she pulled up her hammer and slammed it into the ground, sending a ripple through the earth. The golem lost its footing for a brief second before it recovered and chased them with greater vigor.
He set the Kaleth down and rushed back toward the golem. Then he leapt and threw a fist, a ball of flame erupted and hit the creature around its dots, which may have been its eyes.
Then he ran in another direction away from either the golem and Sanvi, all the while throwing fists of flames at the creature.
“Get her to safety! I’ll distract it, I can run faster,” it was true, the dwarf had shorter legs, and now that Sanvi strained a wing, the Osu moved the quickest.
Huo wondered if this was his first attempt at nobility, but he kept his eyes focus on the creature, more flow spent on generating and manipulating flames. The dwarf nodded and ran back to Sanvi, the two of them propped each other up and headed for the nearest canyon.
The creature took the bait and disengaged from the other two to pursue the pugilist’s tangent. Huo ran as far as his feet could take him, and, once the dwarf and Kaleth disappeared, he realized he had no strategy to rid himself of the golem. He cursed under his breath and tried to think of a plan, all the while realizing his stamina fading.
He ran for how long, he did not know, but the golem kept on his heels. He could see a bright light ahead, and hear familiar voices. Or maybe, that was his mind giving way to exhaustion.
He collapsed in the sand, his eyes blinked, and his head throbbed with the sensation of the golem’s footsteps shaking the ground. Then blackness.
A young human and an elf walk along throughout the rough, sandy terrain around them. Only a few examples of plant life keep them company this late in their afternoon-spanning walk, yet it felt as though far more hours separated day from night than what was natural.
The one in front glares at the three suns still a little ways over the horizon.
..."FUCKING GO DOWN ALREADY!"
"You know, Danairia," says the person in tow. "Yelling isn't going to make them move any faster."
"Yeah? Well I'm gonna try anyway, Caspian," responds the elf.
"If anything, it'll make you hotter," suggested Caspian.
Danairia shrugged.
"It's worth a shot. It's hotter than The Dark One's ballsack here."
Caspian paused and then squinted at the back of Danairia's head.
..."And what would you know about The Dark One's genitals?"
"You get to know a lot about them once you draw them enough," said Danairia, as though it were common knowledge.
"You draw too?" The blacksmith asked, rolling his eyes.
"No-I'm actually shit at drawing," the elf admitted. "You don't need to be good in order to draw a good dick. What you fail to realize, until you start thinking out of the box, is that there is so much you can add in order to make a detailed dick. You could go the unoriginal way and add a bunch of random, weird veins and shit but what I like to do is accessorize."
"Accessorize?" Caspian asked, definitely listening far better than he should.
"Yeah. I like putting different kinds of hats on mine."
The boy shook his head.
"Jeez, exactly how many of these have you drawn?"
"I've drawn all the dicks, Caspian," Danairia stated as a matter of fact.
"All the dicks?-"
"-All the dicks. Dicks for days."
Caspian chuckled, having almost forgotten the reason for their odd conversation. At least night seemed to be approaching faster with the present distraction.
-
Danairia hops over a bush, sprinting past the sparsely placed trees of the dry terrain around her, followed closely by Caspian as he gasped for air.
"This way!" The elf yells. "Keep running!"
They have been running for what seemed like ages but, in reality, was only roughly twenty minutes.
Their feet splash through a creek as they attempted to hold their pace, though one seemed to find more success at it than the other.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Yelled Danairia. "Aren't you fit, being a blacksmith? Why are you having so much trouble?!"
"You act..." Caspian struggled to get out between breaths. "...as though...I should...be faster!"
"YEAH!" Danairia yelled, accusingly. "YEAH, that should probably be the case! How the hell did you get a body like that if you aren't fit?!"
"What...you think...blacksmiths...run all...the time?!" Caspian heaved.
"And you think I run everyday?!" Danairia questioned as she pushed past another bush.
"YES!" The blacksmith yelled ahead of him. "Sorry...I'm not...the one...being chased...by guards...everyday!..."
...
"THAT DOESN'T COUNT!-"
"-YES IT DOES!"
"Well, whatever!" Danairia yelled as the two pressed on, continuing to run for another couple of minutes. It was no use though, the sound of the pursuing city watch was distant but never did it fade.
They needed to hide.
Danairia scanned the terrain around her. The ground had a light dusting of loose dirt and sand around them, which did them no favors in any kind of attempt to avoid leaving a trail, but that could be easily fixed.
What Danairia needed was...
"GOTCHYA!" She announced.
"What?" Caspian asked through a heaving exhale.
"Follow me!" Danairia commanded as she veered off to the left, running to what, at first glance, seemed like flat ground but, upon closer inspection, was in-fact a short drop-off.
"Hurry! Down here!" The elf directed as she slowed to a halt next to the ledge.
Ever observant, Caspian could not help but question the effectiveness of the hiding place in their current situation.
"What about our tracks? They'll follow them right to us!"
Danairia turned toward the offending prints, raising a bent leg while bringing around and drawing back her corresponding arm before planing down and sliding her foot forward, her hand, palm to the sky, gliding forward as though visually directing the air around her. In a stream-like gust, the winds shift at the elf's beckon, stirring the sediment which made up the offending tracks.
"Now, get down," Danairia commanded. "Preferably before they spot us."
...
It took only but a couple of minutes for the men of Khi'ir's city watch to emerge over the last hill and catch up to where the tracks of the two fugitives had ended. Unbeknownst to them, their quarry was lying still as the stone they had their bodies pressed against. Not a sound did they make. Not even their lungs dared stir the air.
Utter silence.
One of the guardsmen approached the pointman of their group, speaking in the unfamiliar tongue of Dumic as they surveyed the cracked surface around them.
There was chatter back and forth between the men; a short pause...
...and then the sound of mail as they stepped off, continuing in the previous direction.
...
Minutes continued to pass...
...Finally, Danairia breathed a sigh of relief.
"We should be good for now," said the elf.
Caspian breathed a heavier sigh of relief and sat up.
"Jeez, I thought I was going to die," he confessed, secretly only half-kidding.
The boy stood up, using the help of the rocky surface next to him before offering his hand to the drunkard on the ground.
"We'd better get moving before they realize they made the wrong choice and come back to look for us."
Danairia took the boy's hand and pulled herself up.
"Yeah, that would be a good idea."
The elf began to pull herself up the ledge but paused to look back at the boy.
"At least, if you can still walk," she teased.
"I'm fine, thank you!" Caspian informed her. "Now, hurry up. Your rear's blocking my ascent."
Danairia pulled herself back up to her feet before letting them carry her forward into the desert, away from the direction of the posse after them.
"Ha~ha~."
And so, the pair walked, doing their best to follow the advice of their map while simultaneously being not entirely sure of their exact position. There were few notable landmarks to follow but, as far as they could tell, they were headed in the correct general direction.
Before long, the dry, cracked surface and dusty soil turned into sand; sparse trees and bushes gave way to simple brush and even some cacti.
Physical exhaustion also turned into mental exhaustion...
"Danairia?"
..."Yeah?" The elf answered, warm desert air gracing the her face with its presence.
"You wouldn't happen to have any water on you, would you?" Caspian asked through a dry mouth.
"Yeah. Not much is left though, so use it sparingly," Danairia warned as she passed back her waterskin. "After that's gone, all I have left is Kill-Devil."
"Kill-what?" The blacksmith asked.
"Rum," clarified the drunkard. "I still have a little over a flask of the stuff from the ship."
Caspian shook his head.
"That'll just dehydrate us, wont it?"
"It's grog. Shit's basically diluted rum and nutmeg. Sailors use it to keep themselves hydrated."
..."How does that even work if you're still drinking rum with each part of water?"
"Fuck-if I know, Caspian. Become a sailor and find out," the elf suggested. "'Til then, stick to cloggin' fuckers over the head with that fancy sword o' yours. You were surprisingly good at it until that guy beat the shit out of you," Danairia chuckled to herself.
"Not so much actually using it the way you're supposed to though. The fuck was that back there anyway?"
Caspian brushed his hand down the back of his head.
"You were in trouble and...y'know...I just tried to help."
"Yeah," Danairia confirmed. "But I mean the way you handled yourself out there!"
The drunkard paused, attempting to find the right words...
"...You know...before you got your ass beat!"
...but failed miserably.
Caspian cleared his throat in an attempt to scuttle past the obvious lack of tact.
"Well, I've been around weaponry my whole life, so of course I was interested in them, and my father had been an Imperial soldier at one time. It took a while to convince him but I guess I got to him because he eventually showed me how to properly hold a sword..."
The boy trailed off, lost in thought about his home.
"I'm pretty sure you noticed that I'm not really the best fighter when you go beyond first contact," Caspian said.
"I gathered," Confirmed Danairia.
-
The grueling desert heat from before has gone, giving way to the crisp air of night and the temperature was still dropping.
Much to the surprise of the blacksmith, it seemed as though Danairia was better prepared for the situation than he would have thought. Her ability to escape the guards was in-character enough for her but, after they had stopped, she had begun looking for food. While Caspian used what small amounts of wood and kindling he could find to build a small fire, Danairia had managed to capture and return with a couple of lizards and a snake.
Never would Caspian have imagined he would try snake meat. It was actually pretty good.
Though, as he stoked the fire, the words of Antius echo in the back of Caspian's mind, acting as a reminder of his actions earlier that day...
"They will most likely offer you assistance in a stressful situation either to genuinely help you or gain a foothold in your soul. I suggest getting a second weapon until we can be sure of their intentions."
The blacksmith glances over to the sheathed sword laying in the dirt beside him and rubs his arms. He had lost the cloth he used to wrap it in the previous conflict. Interestingly enough, however, the two voices hadn't any words to say for the entire time he had been carrying the weapon in the desert. Previously, he could not get them to shut up...now there was an eerie quiet...
He needed to find another weapon soon.
"Alright," said Danairia, "that should be long enough for the first lizard." As with the snake, she began removing the primitive broiling rack from their improvised stand of rocks.
Caspian grinned as he watched the woman work.
"You're a real bundle of surprises, Danairia."
The elf rolls her eyes, having already heard it before.
"I'm not slow, you know."
Caspian winces at the response to his compliment.
"I...never said you were."
Danairia glanced over to him and back at the food before continuing to speak. Her words seem less accusing and more as though she were stating a common fact.
"No, I know the drill already. I'm a 'bundle of surprises' because I'm seen as a special case; seen as a fool. It isn't until I prove the idea wrong that I'm seen as useful. It's not like I haven't encountered people before."
The elf scoots closer to the young man and carefully places the small, primitive rack of sticks and plant fibers on her lap so it is between the two people. Then, she produces a wooden fork and spoon, passing the spoon to her companion.
"I just think differently. That's all."
Caspian smirked.
"I suppose I kind of already knew that. You have your past experiences just like I have mine."
There was a pause between the two.
...
"...So...I told you about my father. What is yours like?"
Danairia swallowed her food. Her eyes sprang up to meet his and her expression went from a relaxed rest to an almost alert state. It was only after another second or so that it returned to normal.
"I'd rather not talk about him."
Caspian sensed uneasiness in her words.
"He didn't die, did he?" He questioned.
"He may as well have." She responded, her words cold.
Tension began filling the air.
"What exactly happened betw-"
"-That's all you need to know, Caspian." Danairia said, cutting off the blacksmith's question.
Once again, silence claimed the air, only challenged by the crackling fire.
..."My family lived in the West, in a town called Randal," Caspian began. "Close to the outskirts of the Empire."
Danairia said nothing, so the young man continued.
"I told you that my father had been a soldier. Well, he would have been a careerist if it weren't for him injuring his leg. He..."
Caspian chuckled.
"I suppose he was a little bit like you because he got hurt in a fight. I don't remember what he said it was about but I remember it was stupid. Anyway, he couldn't fight properly on his leg and the legion discharged him for it. He had a bit of knowledge in shaping metal that he learned from a friend to save money on repairs and maintenance for his weapon and there was a town nearby that was in a bad need for anyone with any kind of knowledge in the trade so he settled down there. I guess it's best to go where you're needed because, even with the amount of room he needed to grow in the subject, he was always busy and I guess that helped him learn from experience."
The boy's hands began to move as he was increasingly more physically invested in the tale. He enjoyed speaking of his family.
"Pa grew from a kid in the military to a man, though I suppose some things never change because, one night, he went to the tavern owned by my grandpa-on my mother's side-and...well things got a bit out of hand. My father punched a guy who refused to pay him for a set of horseshoes, my ma knocked him out with a serving tray; it wasn't the most proud moment of his life."
Caspian took the final bite of the meat and Danairia got up to retrieve another one of the trays from the fire.
"The down-side was my father had to pay for the damages to the tavern. The up-side is my mother had to take care of him for a while, since she..kinda...slammed him into next morning, and developed a crush on him while she did."
Danairia sat back down and Caspian used his spoon to press down and, though difficult, cut himself a bite. The last lizard had been a bit under-cooked but this one seemed just right.
"Grandfather had to take a bit of time to get used to it but they got married and...well...that's how I came to be. As you can imagine, I grew up helping my father around the forge and worked with my mother in grandfather's tavern. As I said earlier, the town was near the border but it was also along a major trade route so my family did alright for what they had. We were fairly busy but there were slow times too. When we weren't backed up, my mother had me helping out my uncle on his farm. It seemed like that was always hard work. It was easy to see why mother sent me there. Poor uncle was always working hard."
Caspian shrugged at his own words.
"Soon after that, father sent me to work under an old friend of his at the Colosseum of Opynonias and...heh...I guess now we're here, aren't we? Kind of weird talking about home like this. Makes me wonder what my family is doing now; if they have heard about what happened with me or what...and Elise..."
Danairia looked up from her food and raised an eyebrow. She was definitely listening.
Caspian immediately regretted his last words as he struggled to explain.
"E-Elise is-...Well, she's-heh-...she-she's a-y'know-I knew her before I left."
Danairia lazily blinked, not taking her gaze off of Caspian.
"...I kinda liked her.-A little!"
The young blacksmith smiled at the girl in his memories.
"...Yeah, I definitely was never really great at hiding my feelings for her...She worked in her family's general goods store down the street from the tavern. I had to pass by every day when I would walk from the smithy to the tavern, so it was easy enough to come up with any old excuse to visit. Such a sweetheart, that girl. I'm pretty sure she knew I was only making excuses to see her yet she still didn't send me away. Makes me wonder sometimes how she even put up with my sorry-self. But I didn't care, as long as I could see that beautiful golden hair of her's, I was happy."
Caspian sighed.
"Guess everything works out in the end. In exchange for my purchase of her time back then, she isn't forced to deal with me now..."
The air between them returned to quiet as they finished the meal. The third lizard was a little well-done but it was far better than any meal Caspian could have prepared from literally nothing so he was content with what was given to him.
For some reason though, after the final lizard had been eaten, they stayed that way. Silent. Watching the fire...
...
..."My mother was...a kind woman..."
Without hesitation, Caspian looked over at Danairia to listen, for she had not spoken a word since he had asked her of her father.
"...Always willing to listen...Always there to care..."
The elf opened her palm to the sky. A gentle flame flickered in her hand.
"She taught me how to use magic. It wasn't much but it didn't have to be. After all, it was only to help around the house. It's much easier to do things, like cook and clean when you have that kind of convenience in your hands."
Danairia closed her fingers, snuffing out the flame as she lowered her hand.
"All she wanted for me was to be a good girl, worthy of only the best men to take me for their own when the time came. Of course, I was never really into that whole idea and I acted like a tomboyish brat, but that didn't bother my mother...she loved me as I was..."
Caspian looked into the fire as he began to see how her father probably saw her. Danairia continued.
"...My father was Captain of the city's military forces. For over a century he led the warriors of the woodland and, only after he was ordered to, did he retire to the seat of the Lord's personal adviser. It was through him that I initially learned how to fight."
"He..." Caspian began. "...He sound's like a good man."
"He's a cock," Danairia corrected. "All he ever did was undermine any attempt I made to be friendly to him...He hated me..."
Danairia's expression began to grow darker.
"Which is okay...because I hated him too...My mother was the only thing keeping him and I together. She loved us both. No matter what, she cared for my father the same way she did for me. That poor woman...she deserved better than us..."
Caspian, who had at first gone to offer encouragement to the elf, stopped short as he noticed her eyes had a glossy look over them not previously there.
Instead...he continued to listen...
"One day, she fell ill and...never got better..."
Danairia paused.
"My father couldn't have said more than a word to me those couple months. I know he didn't say anything to my mother because he was never home. I was nineteen years-old, taking care of my mother like she did for me only months before and that bastard didn't even bother visiting his own fucking wife."
The elf's body trembled, her composure reaching its breaking point.
Though, Caspian could not help but feel as though it were a far worse kind of anger than the many times she had exhibited before.
"She was too weak to do anything on her own near the end...and then, one day..."
Finally, the gloss spilt over and a single tear streaked its way down her cheek.
"...she was too weak to open her eyes..."
...The two sat in silence for what seemed like ages, though it were merely a moment...and the elf slowly ceased her trembling.
"...I couldn't forgive him. I could never forgive him. It didn't help that he was far worse than ever after everything had happened. It wasn't long after then that I had left."
Danairia sighed, her composure slowly returning.
"All I knew how to do qualified me as either a maid or a mercenary and...well...I think you know which I chose. Kind of hard not to do what you're good at...and, with the experience I gained from travelling all over the place, I got stronger."
Caspian stared down at his lap, digesting the story.
"...Danairia?...I'm..glad I met you..."
...
"Thanks, Cas..."
The two continued to sit facing the fire, listening to the crackling of it consuming the wood.
...
"Sorry I tried to kick you when we first met."
Caspian chuckled.
"It happens."
The one in front glares at the three suns still a little ways over the horizon.
..."FUCKING GO DOWN ALREADY!"
"You know, Danairia," says the person in tow. "Yelling isn't going to make them move any faster."
"Yeah? Well I'm gonna try anyway, Caspian," responds the elf.
"If anything, it'll make you hotter," suggested Caspian.
Danairia shrugged.
"It's worth a shot. It's hotter than The Dark One's ballsack here."
Caspian paused and then squinted at the back of Danairia's head.
..."And what would you know about The Dark One's genitals?"
"You get to know a lot about them once you draw them enough," said Danairia, as though it were common knowledge.
"You draw too?" The blacksmith asked, rolling his eyes.
"No-I'm actually shit at drawing," the elf admitted. "You don't need to be good in order to draw a good dick. What you fail to realize, until you start thinking out of the box, is that there is so much you can add in order to make a detailed dick. You could go the unoriginal way and add a bunch of random, weird veins and shit but what I like to do is accessorize."
"Accessorize?" Caspian asked, definitely listening far better than he should.
"Yeah. I like putting different kinds of hats on mine."
The boy shook his head.
"Jeez, exactly how many of these have you drawn?"
"I've drawn all the dicks, Caspian," Danairia stated as a matter of fact.
"All the dicks?-"
"-All the dicks. Dicks for days."
Caspian chuckled, having almost forgotten the reason for their odd conversation. At least night seemed to be approaching faster with the present distraction.
-
Danairia hops over a bush, sprinting past the sparsely placed trees of the dry terrain around her, followed closely by Caspian as he gasped for air.
"This way!" The elf yells. "Keep running!"
They have been running for what seemed like ages but, in reality, was only roughly twenty minutes.
Their feet splash through a creek as they attempted to hold their pace, though one seemed to find more success at it than the other.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Yelled Danairia. "Aren't you fit, being a blacksmith? Why are you having so much trouble?!"
"You act..." Caspian struggled to get out between breaths. "...as though...I should...be faster!"
"YEAH!" Danairia yelled, accusingly. "YEAH, that should probably be the case! How the hell did you get a body like that if you aren't fit?!"
"What...you think...blacksmiths...run all...the time?!" Caspian heaved.
"And you think I run everyday?!" Danairia questioned as she pushed past another bush.
"YES!" The blacksmith yelled ahead of him. "Sorry...I'm not...the one...being chased...by guards...everyday!..."
...
"THAT DOESN'T COUNT!-"
"-YES IT DOES!"
"Well, whatever!" Danairia yelled as the two pressed on, continuing to run for another couple of minutes. It was no use though, the sound of the pursuing city watch was distant but never did it fade.
They needed to hide.
Danairia scanned the terrain around her. The ground had a light dusting of loose dirt and sand around them, which did them no favors in any kind of attempt to avoid leaving a trail, but that could be easily fixed.
What Danairia needed was...
"GOTCHYA!" She announced.
"What?" Caspian asked through a heaving exhale.
"Follow me!" Danairia commanded as she veered off to the left, running to what, at first glance, seemed like flat ground but, upon closer inspection, was in-fact a short drop-off.
"Hurry! Down here!" The elf directed as she slowed to a halt next to the ledge.
Ever observant, Caspian could not help but question the effectiveness of the hiding place in their current situation.
"What about our tracks? They'll follow them right to us!"
Danairia turned toward the offending prints, raising a bent leg while bringing around and drawing back her corresponding arm before planing down and sliding her foot forward, her hand, palm to the sky, gliding forward as though visually directing the air around her. In a stream-like gust, the winds shift at the elf's beckon, stirring the sediment which made up the offending tracks.
"Now, get down," Danairia commanded. "Preferably before they spot us."
...
It took only but a couple of minutes for the men of Khi'ir's city watch to emerge over the last hill and catch up to where the tracks of the two fugitives had ended. Unbeknownst to them, their quarry was lying still as the stone they had their bodies pressed against. Not a sound did they make. Not even their lungs dared stir the air.
Utter silence.
One of the guardsmen approached the pointman of their group, speaking in the unfamiliar tongue of Dumic as they surveyed the cracked surface around them.
There was chatter back and forth between the men; a short pause...
...and then the sound of mail as they stepped off, continuing in the previous direction.
...
Minutes continued to pass...
...Finally, Danairia breathed a sigh of relief.
"We should be good for now," said the elf.
Caspian breathed a heavier sigh of relief and sat up.
"Jeez, I thought I was going to die," he confessed, secretly only half-kidding.
The boy stood up, using the help of the rocky surface next to him before offering his hand to the drunkard on the ground.
"We'd better get moving before they realize they made the wrong choice and come back to look for us."
Danairia took the boy's hand and pulled herself up.
"Yeah, that would be a good idea."
The elf began to pull herself up the ledge but paused to look back at the boy.
"At least, if you can still walk," she teased.
"I'm fine, thank you!" Caspian informed her. "Now, hurry up. Your rear's blocking my ascent."
Danairia pulled herself back up to her feet before letting them carry her forward into the desert, away from the direction of the posse after them.
"Ha~ha~."
And so, the pair walked, doing their best to follow the advice of their map while simultaneously being not entirely sure of their exact position. There were few notable landmarks to follow but, as far as they could tell, they were headed in the correct general direction.
Before long, the dry, cracked surface and dusty soil turned into sand; sparse trees and bushes gave way to simple brush and even some cacti.
Physical exhaustion also turned into mental exhaustion...
"Danairia?"
..."Yeah?" The elf answered, warm desert air gracing the her face with its presence.
"You wouldn't happen to have any water on you, would you?" Caspian asked through a dry mouth.
"Yeah. Not much is left though, so use it sparingly," Danairia warned as she passed back her waterskin. "After that's gone, all I have left is Kill-Devil."
"Kill-what?" The blacksmith asked.
"Rum," clarified the drunkard. "I still have a little over a flask of the stuff from the ship."
Caspian shook his head.
"That'll just dehydrate us, wont it?"
"It's grog. Shit's basically diluted rum and nutmeg. Sailors use it to keep themselves hydrated."
..."How does that even work if you're still drinking rum with each part of water?"
"Fuck-if I know, Caspian. Become a sailor and find out," the elf suggested. "'Til then, stick to cloggin' fuckers over the head with that fancy sword o' yours. You were surprisingly good at it until that guy beat the shit out of you," Danairia chuckled to herself.
"Not so much actually using it the way you're supposed to though. The fuck was that back there anyway?"
Caspian brushed his hand down the back of his head.
"You were in trouble and...y'know...I just tried to help."
"Yeah," Danairia confirmed. "But I mean the way you handled yourself out there!"
The drunkard paused, attempting to find the right words...
"...You know...before you got your ass beat!"
...but failed miserably.
Caspian cleared his throat in an attempt to scuttle past the obvious lack of tact.
"Well, I've been around weaponry my whole life, so of course I was interested in them, and my father had been an Imperial soldier at one time. It took a while to convince him but I guess I got to him because he eventually showed me how to properly hold a sword..."
The boy trailed off, lost in thought about his home.
"I'm pretty sure you noticed that I'm not really the best fighter when you go beyond first contact," Caspian said.
"I gathered," Confirmed Danairia.
-
The grueling desert heat from before has gone, giving way to the crisp air of night and the temperature was still dropping.
Much to the surprise of the blacksmith, it seemed as though Danairia was better prepared for the situation than he would have thought. Her ability to escape the guards was in-character enough for her but, after they had stopped, she had begun looking for food. While Caspian used what small amounts of wood and kindling he could find to build a small fire, Danairia had managed to capture and return with a couple of lizards and a snake.
Never would Caspian have imagined he would try snake meat. It was actually pretty good.
Though, as he stoked the fire, the words of Antius echo in the back of Caspian's mind, acting as a reminder of his actions earlier that day...
"They will most likely offer you assistance in a stressful situation either to genuinely help you or gain a foothold in your soul. I suggest getting a second weapon until we can be sure of their intentions."
The blacksmith glances over to the sheathed sword laying in the dirt beside him and rubs his arms. He had lost the cloth he used to wrap it in the previous conflict. Interestingly enough, however, the two voices hadn't any words to say for the entire time he had been carrying the weapon in the desert. Previously, he could not get them to shut up...now there was an eerie quiet...
He needed to find another weapon soon.
"Alright," said Danairia, "that should be long enough for the first lizard." As with the snake, she began removing the primitive broiling rack from their improvised stand of rocks.
Caspian grinned as he watched the woman work.
"You're a real bundle of surprises, Danairia."
The elf rolls her eyes, having already heard it before.
"I'm not slow, you know."
Caspian winces at the response to his compliment.
"I...never said you were."
Danairia glanced over to him and back at the food before continuing to speak. Her words seem less accusing and more as though she were stating a common fact.
"No, I know the drill already. I'm a 'bundle of surprises' because I'm seen as a special case; seen as a fool. It isn't until I prove the idea wrong that I'm seen as useful. It's not like I haven't encountered people before."
The elf scoots closer to the young man and carefully places the small, primitive rack of sticks and plant fibers on her lap so it is between the two people. Then, she produces a wooden fork and spoon, passing the spoon to her companion.
"I just think differently. That's all."
Caspian smirked.
"I suppose I kind of already knew that. You have your past experiences just like I have mine."
There was a pause between the two.
...
"...So...I told you about my father. What is yours like?"
Danairia swallowed her food. Her eyes sprang up to meet his and her expression went from a relaxed rest to an almost alert state. It was only after another second or so that it returned to normal.
"I'd rather not talk about him."
Caspian sensed uneasiness in her words.
"He didn't die, did he?" He questioned.
"He may as well have." She responded, her words cold.
Tension began filling the air.
"What exactly happened betw-"
"-That's all you need to know, Caspian." Danairia said, cutting off the blacksmith's question.
Once again, silence claimed the air, only challenged by the crackling fire.
..."My family lived in the West, in a town called Randal," Caspian began. "Close to the outskirts of the Empire."
Danairia said nothing, so the young man continued.
"I told you that my father had been a soldier. Well, he would have been a careerist if it weren't for him injuring his leg. He..."
Caspian chuckled.
"I suppose he was a little bit like you because he got hurt in a fight. I don't remember what he said it was about but I remember it was stupid. Anyway, he couldn't fight properly on his leg and the legion discharged him for it. He had a bit of knowledge in shaping metal that he learned from a friend to save money on repairs and maintenance for his weapon and there was a town nearby that was in a bad need for anyone with any kind of knowledge in the trade so he settled down there. I guess it's best to go where you're needed because, even with the amount of room he needed to grow in the subject, he was always busy and I guess that helped him learn from experience."
The boy's hands began to move as he was increasingly more physically invested in the tale. He enjoyed speaking of his family.
"Pa grew from a kid in the military to a man, though I suppose some things never change because, one night, he went to the tavern owned by my grandpa-on my mother's side-and...well things got a bit out of hand. My father punched a guy who refused to pay him for a set of horseshoes, my ma knocked him out with a serving tray; it wasn't the most proud moment of his life."
Caspian took the final bite of the meat and Danairia got up to retrieve another one of the trays from the fire.
"The down-side was my father had to pay for the damages to the tavern. The up-side is my mother had to take care of him for a while, since she..kinda...slammed him into next morning, and developed a crush on him while she did."
Danairia sat back down and Caspian used his spoon to press down and, though difficult, cut himself a bite. The last lizard had been a bit under-cooked but this one seemed just right.
"Grandfather had to take a bit of time to get used to it but they got married and...well...that's how I came to be. As you can imagine, I grew up helping my father around the forge and worked with my mother in grandfather's tavern. As I said earlier, the town was near the border but it was also along a major trade route so my family did alright for what they had. We were fairly busy but there were slow times too. When we weren't backed up, my mother had me helping out my uncle on his farm. It seemed like that was always hard work. It was easy to see why mother sent me there. Poor uncle was always working hard."
Caspian shrugged at his own words.
"Soon after that, father sent me to work under an old friend of his at the Colosseum of Opynonias and...heh...I guess now we're here, aren't we? Kind of weird talking about home like this. Makes me wonder what my family is doing now; if they have heard about what happened with me or what...and Elise..."
Danairia looked up from her food and raised an eyebrow. She was definitely listening.
Caspian immediately regretted his last words as he struggled to explain.
"E-Elise is-...Well, she's-heh-...she-she's a-y'know-I knew her before I left."
Danairia lazily blinked, not taking her gaze off of Caspian.
"...I kinda liked her.-A little!"
The young blacksmith smiled at the girl in his memories.
"...Yeah, I definitely was never really great at hiding my feelings for her...She worked in her family's general goods store down the street from the tavern. I had to pass by every day when I would walk from the smithy to the tavern, so it was easy enough to come up with any old excuse to visit. Such a sweetheart, that girl. I'm pretty sure she knew I was only making excuses to see her yet she still didn't send me away. Makes me wonder sometimes how she even put up with my sorry-self. But I didn't care, as long as I could see that beautiful golden hair of her's, I was happy."
Caspian sighed.
"Guess everything works out in the end. In exchange for my purchase of her time back then, she isn't forced to deal with me now..."
The air between them returned to quiet as they finished the meal. The third lizard was a little well-done but it was far better than any meal Caspian could have prepared from literally nothing so he was content with what was given to him.
For some reason though, after the final lizard had been eaten, they stayed that way. Silent. Watching the fire...
...
..."My mother was...a kind woman..."
Without hesitation, Caspian looked over at Danairia to listen, for she had not spoken a word since he had asked her of her father.
"...Always willing to listen...Always there to care..."
The elf opened her palm to the sky. A gentle flame flickered in her hand.
"She taught me how to use magic. It wasn't much but it didn't have to be. After all, it was only to help around the house. It's much easier to do things, like cook and clean when you have that kind of convenience in your hands."
Danairia closed her fingers, snuffing out the flame as she lowered her hand.
"All she wanted for me was to be a good girl, worthy of only the best men to take me for their own when the time came. Of course, I was never really into that whole idea and I acted like a tomboyish brat, but that didn't bother my mother...she loved me as I was..."
Caspian looked into the fire as he began to see how her father probably saw her. Danairia continued.
"...My father was Captain of the city's military forces. For over a century he led the warriors of the woodland and, only after he was ordered to, did he retire to the seat of the Lord's personal adviser. It was through him that I initially learned how to fight."
"He..." Caspian began. "...He sound's like a good man."
"He's a cock," Danairia corrected. "All he ever did was undermine any attempt I made to be friendly to him...He hated me..."
Danairia's expression began to grow darker.
"Which is okay...because I hated him too...My mother was the only thing keeping him and I together. She loved us both. No matter what, she cared for my father the same way she did for me. That poor woman...she deserved better than us..."
Caspian, who had at first gone to offer encouragement to the elf, stopped short as he noticed her eyes had a glossy look over them not previously there.
Instead...he continued to listen...
"One day, she fell ill and...never got better..."
Danairia paused.
"My father couldn't have said more than a word to me those couple months. I know he didn't say anything to my mother because he was never home. I was nineteen years-old, taking care of my mother like she did for me only months before and that bastard didn't even bother visiting his own fucking wife."
The elf's body trembled, her composure reaching its breaking point.
Though, Caspian could not help but feel as though it were a far worse kind of anger than the many times she had exhibited before.
"She was too weak to do anything on her own near the end...and then, one day..."
Finally, the gloss spilt over and a single tear streaked its way down her cheek.
"...she was too weak to open her eyes..."
...The two sat in silence for what seemed like ages, though it were merely a moment...and the elf slowly ceased her trembling.
"...I couldn't forgive him. I could never forgive him. It didn't help that he was far worse than ever after everything had happened. It wasn't long after then that I had left."
Danairia sighed, her composure slowly returning.
"All I knew how to do qualified me as either a maid or a mercenary and...well...I think you know which I chose. Kind of hard not to do what you're good at...and, with the experience I gained from travelling all over the place, I got stronger."
Caspian stared down at his lap, digesting the story.
"...Danairia?...I'm..glad I met you..."
...
"Thanks, Cas..."
The two continued to sit facing the fire, listening to the crackling of it consuming the wood.
...
"Sorry I tried to kick you when we first met."
Caspian chuckled.
"It happens."
Setting
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31st Breh
Iyoka clambered off the Galibrensis with ease, but not before earning a few ogling glances from the sailors and port workers. She wondered if they enjoyed the smooth curves of her horns. Or perhaps they eyed the curves of her chest, her legs, or her arms, but if she found out, she would have left them with bloody noses and bruised egos.
She soon found a dock worker who pointed her in the direction of the Flying Dwarf. Once she approached, she met snide crewmen who pointed her toward the captain as soon as she dropped a few silvers. Then she elbowed one of them, followed by a swift fist to his nose. She pocketed the silvers once again despite the helpless objection of the man's friend, who could only yield in the face of a woman such as her.
Her footsteps up the wooden gangway caught the ears of an astute dwarf ship captain, whom, she later learned, called himself Aramus Eiraendar, skipper of the Flying Dwarf. He took to that title proudly because he spent all his wealth earned in the mines of his ancestral home. The wealth bought him his dream of sailing the seas and a few trustworthy hands, which were as rare as a dwarf ship captain.
A sailing dwarf, Iyoka thought she could pass into the next life somewhat accomplished for knowing that she had met one.
The dwarf puffed from his pipe, “And how can I help ye…miss…eh?”
“Rhiakosh,” Iyoka offered her family’s name, something that she never feared too much.
She noticed the streaks of gray, signs of age and weariness.
Eiraendar possessed his pipe in hand, “’Tis a pleasure to make the acquaintance, Lady Rhiakosh. What can I do fer ye?”
“I have a few questions, I don’t suppose you would mind me asking them?”
“I don’t s'pose I would mind you askin' 'em,” the dwarf smiled politely, “Of what nature do they belong?”
“I am looking for a friend, he may have boarded your ship when you set sail from Opynonias.”
The dwarf’s brow furrowed, he held a lazy glance at her. Her equipment and bearing, he determined, made her a hunter of sorts, perhaps a bounty hunter. Even if she was a bounty hunter, he knew he had no attachment to anybody who was not crew, which included passengers. He supposed it did no harm to pursue this further.
“And what does this friend of yours look like? I might’ve seen ‘im,” the dwarf replied.
“He has the bearings of a fighter, golden hair, a tad shorter than myself.”
Taokhari possessed imposing physique, but perhaps their horns complicated an accurate measurement of their stature.
The dwarf knew who she was talking about, the Osu fighter who had left his ship and disappeared into the maze of Khi’ir days ago. He observed that the Taokhari possessed an air of confidence around her. When she said ‘friend,’ he felt a jolt at how odd her tone felt.
“What be yer business with ‘im, if ye don’t mind me askin’?”
She breathed a sigh and paused. She played this often enough that she could have been a bard or traveling performer of drama.
“Just chasing after ghosts,” she finished her little theatrics.
The dwarf nodded, he puffed his pipe thoughtfully.
Iyoka remained silent as she waited for the dwarf to deliver more than sentimental soothing words, she wanted information.
“Your friend paid for his voyage by workin' me ship," the dwarf smiled.
Even Iyoka felt surprised at Huo's industriousness, "You don't say?"
"Aye, a rather determined lad. He set off into the city quickly."
"Was he traveling with anyone in particular?"
The dwarf narrowed his eyes at Iyoka, "Does that concern you?"
Iyoka withdrew from that route as soon as she set foot on it, "Curiosity. I just wanted to know if there was another woman..."
"So it's heartbreak eh?"
Iyoka chose not to answer and let the dwarf interpret her story as he wished.
"He traveled with a few others, men and women."
"When did you arrive?"
"Three days ago."
Iyoka prepared to leave.
The dwarf spoke, "I believe the White Sphinx might be of interest. It certainly caught your friend’s when I spoke about it the night before we set sail.”
“The White Sphinx, as in the White Sphinx tavern?” Iyoka spun around, she knew that tavern quite well, she had often been to the establishment.
Their brew was deemed legendary by many enthusiasts, she could have drank piss water and it would still taste better in her opinion. Perhaps the flavor had departed along with the previous owner long ago.
“Aye, that be it, the only one around. Even if ye don’t find him, ye should try the brew,” the dwarf then waved her off, “I must get back to my ship. Apologies I couldn’t have been of more use.”
“No, you’ve helped me greatly,” Iyoka bowed and departed sharply with steps quicker than the ones she arrived with.
She had a clue now, the White Sphinx, which she hoped would lead her to Huo.
Iyoka clambered off the Galibrensis with ease, but not before earning a few ogling glances from the sailors and port workers. She wondered if they enjoyed the smooth curves of her horns. Or perhaps they eyed the curves of her chest, her legs, or her arms, but if she found out, she would have left them with bloody noses and bruised egos.
She soon found a dock worker who pointed her in the direction of the Flying Dwarf. Once she approached, she met snide crewmen who pointed her toward the captain as soon as she dropped a few silvers. Then she elbowed one of them, followed by a swift fist to his nose. She pocketed the silvers once again despite the helpless objection of the man's friend, who could only yield in the face of a woman such as her.
Her footsteps up the wooden gangway caught the ears of an astute dwarf ship captain, whom, she later learned, called himself Aramus Eiraendar, skipper of the Flying Dwarf. He took to that title proudly because he spent all his wealth earned in the mines of his ancestral home. The wealth bought him his dream of sailing the seas and a few trustworthy hands, which were as rare as a dwarf ship captain.
A sailing dwarf, Iyoka thought she could pass into the next life somewhat accomplished for knowing that she had met one.
The dwarf puffed from his pipe, “And how can I help ye…miss…eh?”
“Rhiakosh,” Iyoka offered her family’s name, something that she never feared too much.
She noticed the streaks of gray, signs of age and weariness.
Eiraendar possessed his pipe in hand, “’Tis a pleasure to make the acquaintance, Lady Rhiakosh. What can I do fer ye?”
“I have a few questions, I don’t suppose you would mind me asking them?”
“I don’t s'pose I would mind you askin' 'em,” the dwarf smiled politely, “Of what nature do they belong?”
“I am looking for a friend, he may have boarded your ship when you set sail from Opynonias.”
The dwarf’s brow furrowed, he held a lazy glance at her. Her equipment and bearing, he determined, made her a hunter of sorts, perhaps a bounty hunter. Even if she was a bounty hunter, he knew he had no attachment to anybody who was not crew, which included passengers. He supposed it did no harm to pursue this further.
“And what does this friend of yours look like? I might’ve seen ‘im,” the dwarf replied.
“He has the bearings of a fighter, golden hair, a tad shorter than myself.”
Taokhari possessed imposing physique, but perhaps their horns complicated an accurate measurement of their stature.
The dwarf knew who she was talking about, the Osu fighter who had left his ship and disappeared into the maze of Khi’ir days ago. He observed that the Taokhari possessed an air of confidence around her. When she said ‘friend,’ he felt a jolt at how odd her tone felt.
“What be yer business with ‘im, if ye don’t mind me askin’?”
She breathed a sigh and paused. She played this often enough that she could have been a bard or traveling performer of drama.
“Just chasing after ghosts,” she finished her little theatrics.
The dwarf nodded, he puffed his pipe thoughtfully.
Iyoka remained silent as she waited for the dwarf to deliver more than sentimental soothing words, she wanted information.
“Your friend paid for his voyage by workin' me ship," the dwarf smiled.
Even Iyoka felt surprised at Huo's industriousness, "You don't say?"
"Aye, a rather determined lad. He set off into the city quickly."
"Was he traveling with anyone in particular?"
The dwarf narrowed his eyes at Iyoka, "Does that concern you?"
Iyoka withdrew from that route as soon as she set foot on it, "Curiosity. I just wanted to know if there was another woman..."
"So it's heartbreak eh?"
Iyoka chose not to answer and let the dwarf interpret her story as he wished.
"He traveled with a few others, men and women."
"When did you arrive?"
"Three days ago."
Iyoka prepared to leave.
The dwarf spoke, "I believe the White Sphinx might be of interest. It certainly caught your friend’s when I spoke about it the night before we set sail.”
“The White Sphinx, as in the White Sphinx tavern?” Iyoka spun around, she knew that tavern quite well, she had often been to the establishment.
Their brew was deemed legendary by many enthusiasts, she could have drank piss water and it would still taste better in her opinion. Perhaps the flavor had departed along with the previous owner long ago.
“Aye, that be it, the only one around. Even if ye don’t find him, ye should try the brew,” the dwarf then waved her off, “I must get back to my ship. Apologies I couldn’t have been of more use.”
“No, you’ve helped me greatly,” Iyoka bowed and departed sharply with steps quicker than the ones she arrived with.
She had a clue now, the White Sphinx, which she hoped would lead her to Huo.
31st Breh
“Speak to me girl!” Niobe slapped Sanvi’s cheek, which by paled to the color of snow.
The dwarf carried her hammer and the kaleth through the desert. The wings added unforeseen bulk that made their progress slow. They needed to find water quick. Then she thought of the Osu fighter, where was he? Did he perish? She could not abandon her comrade in search of the other. Yet, she was not beholden to either of these strangers. What did it matter to her to keep them alive if the act of preservation served a detriment to her own survival? Her throat felt rocky. Her eyes blinked unsteady.
She found a shady spot in a canyon and set the kaleth against the wall. She made sure to spread the wings to keep the unconscious woman cool. The dwarf pulled out her bota bag and shook it. She determined there were a few drops left to sip. She scanned around for any other travelers that could help her. Nothing.
The dwarf let her head hang. She fell back against the canyon wall kicking up dust as she settled beside Sanvi. The dwarf tried to think. She looked at the girl and then stared out at the lonely land. She retrieved a piece of parchment from her pocket. It was the map that the muscum had given her. She looked at the inscriptions. They only marked out the major landmarks.
They were scattered to the winds. Then a pebble fell on her head, Niobe glanced at the canyon cliff. No one, it was probably just the wind.
Then she blinked and wanted to slap herself, she remembered there was a spring somewhere between Seirkent and Khi’ir.
“Are you awake?” she nudged the kaleth girl.
No response, but the girl still drew breath. She was a still alive at least. Niobe left her goatskin bag with the few remaining drops and left it the girl. She took Sanvi’s empty bag.
Then she took her hammer and proceeded to carve with the pole into the ground several runes. The enchantments would serve to shield the girl from bandits to hungry beasts. Niobe hoped she could be back by sundown along the main route.
A group of nomadic riders shrouded in long tan capes, faces covered by shemaghs, atop black and brown horses came across a body lying in the sand in the Syakh desert. One dismounted his horse.
He cocked his head briefly and looked at the dead man. He reached a pair of fingers to the man’s nose and could tell he was still breathing, just unconscious. He waved to his comrades, and they quickly stripped the man of his armor and hauled him onto one of the horses.
Huo awoke to an orange and purple sky beyond some canyon walls. He smelled the burnt savory odor of meat that made his stomach growl and leap. He heard the crackle of a fire pit and a few voices in hushed conversation. His hands seemed bound at the wrists. He yanked at the rope but his arms weighed him down. Whoever had captured him wanted him alive, that much he knew. He remembered the golem and Sanvi and Niobe and…
It took his eyes a few blinks to unblur the world around him, but he made out a face that came before him. The face belonged to a man he had not seen for a long time, and that face smiled at him, despite the scars and crooked teeth.
“Penth?” the fighter asked.
“How are ye’ ol’ boy?” the slaver asked Huo.
“Speak to me girl!” Niobe slapped Sanvi’s cheek, which by paled to the color of snow.
The dwarf carried her hammer and the kaleth through the desert. The wings added unforeseen bulk that made their progress slow. They needed to find water quick. Then she thought of the Osu fighter, where was he? Did he perish? She could not abandon her comrade in search of the other. Yet, she was not beholden to either of these strangers. What did it matter to her to keep them alive if the act of preservation served a detriment to her own survival? Her throat felt rocky. Her eyes blinked unsteady.
She found a shady spot in a canyon and set the kaleth against the wall. She made sure to spread the wings to keep the unconscious woman cool. The dwarf pulled out her bota bag and shook it. She determined there were a few drops left to sip. She scanned around for any other travelers that could help her. Nothing.
The dwarf let her head hang. She fell back against the canyon wall kicking up dust as she settled beside Sanvi. The dwarf tried to think. She looked at the girl and then stared out at the lonely land. She retrieved a piece of parchment from her pocket. It was the map that the muscum had given her. She looked at the inscriptions. They only marked out the major landmarks.
They were scattered to the winds. Then a pebble fell on her head, Niobe glanced at the canyon cliff. No one, it was probably just the wind.
Then she blinked and wanted to slap herself, she remembered there was a spring somewhere between Seirkent and Khi’ir.
“Are you awake?” she nudged the kaleth girl.
No response, but the girl still drew breath. She was a still alive at least. Niobe left her goatskin bag with the few remaining drops and left it the girl. She took Sanvi’s empty bag.
Then she took her hammer and proceeded to carve with the pole into the ground several runes. The enchantments would serve to shield the girl from bandits to hungry beasts. Niobe hoped she could be back by sundown along the main route.
-
A group of nomadic riders shrouded in long tan capes, faces covered by shemaghs, atop black and brown horses came across a body lying in the sand in the Syakh desert. One dismounted his horse.
He cocked his head briefly and looked at the dead man. He reached a pair of fingers to the man’s nose and could tell he was still breathing, just unconscious. He waved to his comrades, and they quickly stripped the man of his armor and hauled him onto one of the horses.
-
Huo awoke to an orange and purple sky beyond some canyon walls. He smelled the burnt savory odor of meat that made his stomach growl and leap. He heard the crackle of a fire pit and a few voices in hushed conversation. His hands seemed bound at the wrists. He yanked at the rope but his arms weighed him down. Whoever had captured him wanted him alive, that much he knew. He remembered the golem and Sanvi and Niobe and…
It took his eyes a few blinks to unblur the world around him, but he made out a face that came before him. The face belonged to a man he had not seen for a long time, and that face smiled at him, despite the scars and crooked teeth.
“Penth?” the fighter asked.
“How are ye’ ol’ boy?” the slaver asked Huo.
The setting changes from Syakh to Gyarazi Desert
Niobe stumbled across the sand, and her eyes fixed on the setting of the sun. She moved southward as far as she knew. She could read the stars as a map, and she could at least determine the main road in the desert. She spotted two dark outlines in the distance. As she drew near, the outlines formed into three charabancs and a small group of people all headed in the same direction. It appeared to be a small merchant convoy. Perhaps they could lead her to the oasis or, at the very least, point her in the direction of one.
She drew near, the lone shabby dwarf with her hammer dredging sand behind her. Her face glistened with sweat. The convoy people noticed her on approach, and, had they been raiders or bandits, would have drawn their swords to scalp her. She could see they were plain merchants, fortunately.
“I am a traveler seeking directions to an oasis,” Niobe said. “Do you know the way?”
Niobe chose not to say more than she needed to lest it give away her vulnerabilities. These people looked like merchants, but there had been many a story of bandits pretending to be merchants. Still, she knew that if they turned, she could fight them off, despite her lingering thirst. They pointed her along a southward path, but not before they stared at her with curiosity. As though they had never seen a dwarf before. Though, they said they had seen dwarves before. The Dwarven Merchants Guild gave a face for the dwarves to the surface world. Yet, not to Niobe’s surprise, their real curiosity came from her skin tone. She dismissed any desire to smash the smirks off their faces, and, instead, followed the outlined path with diligence until she reached a small alcove where several springs flowed. She took several gulps and rushed to fill Sanvi’s bag. She cursed herself for not buying a flask from the merchants when she had a chance. Then she took a few more gulps. Fortunately, the sun started to dip. It would be time for her to return to the girl. Her thirst would not be as strong, but she took several more sips just to be sure. Then she started back in the direction of the winged girl.
Sand started to bury Sanvi, but she awoke to the desert stars and to the sounds of chirps. Her eyes felt brushed with resin to remain shut. Her lips felt dry. She was used to this having delivered supplies through the desert before. The exhaustion and collapse always happened. She recovered her senses enough to realize that her two companions had disappeared. Dread encircled her like a vulture over a corpse. What happened to them? Did they perish somewhere? Did she flee and collapse? She saw clouded visions of her memory. She saw herself and the running to somewhere or from something. She could not recall, and it wracked her head with aches. The sensation of thirst piled upon the needles that pricked her mind.
She needed to find her way to her companions or at least a way back to the city. She remembered they had traveled two days into the desert though. This quest to find some mythical oasis had been a bust it seemed. Survival was now her only goal. She needed to find a real oasis now or caravansary then joining a caravan headed to Khi’ir.
As she stood up, she bumped into a force. She felt an invisible field surrounded her. She ran her fists against it, and, while she sustained no injury, she could not find a way to escape the invisible prison. Had she been captured? Or was this a spell field that one of her companions had left behind to protect her? She hoped it was the latter as the former only instilled more fear into her than already existed.
She saw a shadow in the distance, but soon collapsed back and watched the sky settling in its waves of orange and violet. Her eyes begged to close, but she fought back. She wanted to see who was rushing toward her this moment. If she closed her eyes, she might close them forever.
Niobe ran up to the collapsed girl. She raised her palm up and pressed her fingers against the invisible prison formed from her runes. The runes appeared and glowed in white light before dissipating. She pulled the girl up and unclasped the Sanvi’s water bag from her belt. Niobe poured the water into the winged girl’s mouth and hoped she would awaken.
She drew near, the lone shabby dwarf with her hammer dredging sand behind her. Her face glistened with sweat. The convoy people noticed her on approach, and, had they been raiders or bandits, would have drawn their swords to scalp her. She could see they were plain merchants, fortunately.
“I am a traveler seeking directions to an oasis,” Niobe said. “Do you know the way?”
Niobe chose not to say more than she needed to lest it give away her vulnerabilities. These people looked like merchants, but there had been many a story of bandits pretending to be merchants. Still, she knew that if they turned, she could fight them off, despite her lingering thirst. They pointed her along a southward path, but not before they stared at her with curiosity. As though they had never seen a dwarf before. Though, they said they had seen dwarves before. The Dwarven Merchants Guild gave a face for the dwarves to the surface world. Yet, not to Niobe’s surprise, their real curiosity came from her skin tone. She dismissed any desire to smash the smirks off their faces, and, instead, followed the outlined path with diligence until she reached a small alcove where several springs flowed. She took several gulps and rushed to fill Sanvi’s bag. She cursed herself for not buying a flask from the merchants when she had a chance. Then she took a few more gulps. Fortunately, the sun started to dip. It would be time for her to return to the girl. Her thirst would not be as strong, but she took several more sips just to be sure. Then she started back in the direction of the winged girl.
____
Sand started to bury Sanvi, but she awoke to the desert stars and to the sounds of chirps. Her eyes felt brushed with resin to remain shut. Her lips felt dry. She was used to this having delivered supplies through the desert before. The exhaustion and collapse always happened. She recovered her senses enough to realize that her two companions had disappeared. Dread encircled her like a vulture over a corpse. What happened to them? Did they perish somewhere? Did she flee and collapse? She saw clouded visions of her memory. She saw herself and the running to somewhere or from something. She could not recall, and it wracked her head with aches. The sensation of thirst piled upon the needles that pricked her mind.
She needed to find her way to her companions or at least a way back to the city. She remembered they had traveled two days into the desert though. This quest to find some mythical oasis had been a bust it seemed. Survival was now her only goal. She needed to find a real oasis now or caravansary then joining a caravan headed to Khi’ir.
As she stood up, she bumped into a force. She felt an invisible field surrounded her. She ran her fists against it, and, while she sustained no injury, she could not find a way to escape the invisible prison. Had she been captured? Or was this a spell field that one of her companions had left behind to protect her? She hoped it was the latter as the former only instilled more fear into her than already existed.
She saw a shadow in the distance, but soon collapsed back and watched the sky settling in its waves of orange and violet. Her eyes begged to close, but she fought back. She wanted to see who was rushing toward her this moment. If she closed her eyes, she might close them forever.
Niobe ran up to the collapsed girl. She raised her palm up and pressed her fingers against the invisible prison formed from her runes. The runes appeared and glowed in white light before dissipating. She pulled the girl up and unclasped the Sanvi’s water bag from her belt. Niobe poured the water into the winged girl’s mouth and hoped she would awaken.
The battle in the city of Khi’ir left them wandering the sands for days. Lir gripped the little parchment map because it served as the only link to their companions. Fortunately, they knew their path, and they had enough supplies. Lir worried about her compatriots. Being split up like so concerned her. She wondered if they managed themselves well in similar conditions. Antius worried about the wound that he sustained during the battle. He never showed it to Lir because he knew she worried about their companions. He also knew she had demons pursuing her. One minor wound of his should be the last thing concerning her. Each step he took, he felt a sharp jab in his abdomen, yet he clenched his teeth and continued.
Call it pride, but Antius had learned to take care of himself. Years in the arena had made him somewhat of a wolf and a stoic. He never showed his enemies what they could use against him. Though, he desired to spill it all out to her, but he knew that their journey to Seirkent stood at the top of their priorities. They needed to arrive in the city sooner lest they miss the arrival of their companions. If he knew how they thought, given that each of them had a piece of map, they would all try to find a way to Seirkent with the hopes of regrouping in the city if not along the way.
While the two runaway mages contemplated their next moves through the Gyarazi, another mage pursued them with devilish glee. Galtros managed to tail them with a few phase steps. He knew he was a predator playing with his food. The mage hungered for their lives, but he enjoyed the hunt. He wanted them to feel the only emotion that distinguished gods from mortals, fear.
A chill crept up Lir’s spine. Without warning she felt it cut across her skin and into her mind. She felt the cold of fear even at the height of the suns across the Syakh desert. The feeling felt unique and recalled a sensation that she knew she had felt before. She felt the same feeling that she had felt in the foreign quarter bazaar days ago in Khi’ir. She suddenly recalled the visage of that man that she had met. She felt a burning feeling then, but this was different. It felt like a cold burn. A freeze so cold it could burn away all feeling. What was his name? She had forgotten, but she remembered the face. The dark brown hair. The dark blue blazing eyes.
The dark blue blazing eyes. The dark blue blazing eyes? There they were in front of her. Behind the dark blue blazing eyes no longer ran the dark brown hair but a blazing skull. She looked at the face that no longer existed.
“Lir!” Antius wove a barrier and intercepted several incoming arcane blasts.
Lir blinked. There he stood, the dark blue blazing eyes of the man she met at the bazaar. Yet he was no man, she discerned. He was a monster. Galtros Penrimore laughed a ghoulish throaty laugh as his eyes burned in blue arcane wisps of fire while the orange desert winds coalesced around him. His hands glowed with light.
In his palms swirled orbs of arcane energy that he could unleash with simple thought, which he did. Antius pulled his staff from the ground and spun it to generate another arcane shield.
“Lir!” Antius cried as he responded with a flurry of lightning bolts that kicked up sand and charred the desert air.
The streaks flew toward Galtros who wiped them clean with a passing hand. However, Lir remained frozen in a trance. She only saw the penetrating fire of the blazing blue eyes.
“Lir snap out of it!” Antius deflected a blast of flame.
Galtros pressed forward with frost roots that held the girl in her place. Antius melted the frost with a spell cast from one hand while the other maintained a barrier pushing back against Galtros. Antius always had a proficiency for managing more than one spell at a time.
“You’re quite the adept aren’t you, Master Geminus?” Galtros unleashed several more bolts of lightning.
“How do you know my name?” Antius countered with a set of arcane orange fire bolts that intercepted the arcing white lightning bolts.
Galtros seemed impressed by the young mage’s ability to divide his concentration between a set of spells aimed at the girl and another set aimed at himself. Galtros pitied that he would never live to see the fullest potential of his abilities.
“This has been rather entertaining,” Galtros chuckled.
He phase stepped behind the two other mages and formed daggers of arcane ice behind him. Antius spun around and planted his staff once more to generate a barrier, which intercepted the ice daggers. Antius stopped and the barrier faltered. A sharp pain entered his chest and he realized that he activated the barrier only seconds late. He looked to his heart and he saw the dagger of ice impaled just under his breast. His breath slowed to gasps, and his eyes blinked in and out.
Antius fell to the sand. Galtros looked at the tranced girl. He shook his head. He raised a palm up and a single dagger of bubbling shadows swirled in his palm. He took the blade and walked up to her. He held her by the throat even as his magic kept her mindless. He saw the blackness that covered her eyes like a veil, and he saw inside that she cowered like a scared little girl. Her spirit faded with each passing second. He shunted the blade into her heart and she exhaled a gasp which released the dark veil. She finally recognized him for what he was, but she was too late. She could feel the last bits of her spirit failing.
The blazing eyes of Galtros Penrimore filled her view before darkness. As he let her body slump to the ground beside the other mage, a small piece of parchment escaped her hand. Penrimore planted his foot on the parchment that would have flitted away with the desert wind. He unfolded the parchment. The parchment had a small resemblance to a hand-drawn map of Syakh’s western coast. A line marked a path from Khi’ir to Seirkent to Hatef to Nabbuz. The mage folded the parchment and vanished in a swirl of shadows.
Call it pride, but Antius had learned to take care of himself. Years in the arena had made him somewhat of a wolf and a stoic. He never showed his enemies what they could use against him. Though, he desired to spill it all out to her, but he knew that their journey to Seirkent stood at the top of their priorities. They needed to arrive in the city sooner lest they miss the arrival of their companions. If he knew how they thought, given that each of them had a piece of map, they would all try to find a way to Seirkent with the hopes of regrouping in the city if not along the way.
While the two runaway mages contemplated their next moves through the Gyarazi, another mage pursued them with devilish glee. Galtros managed to tail them with a few phase steps. He knew he was a predator playing with his food. The mage hungered for their lives, but he enjoyed the hunt. He wanted them to feel the only emotion that distinguished gods from mortals, fear.
A chill crept up Lir’s spine. Without warning she felt it cut across her skin and into her mind. She felt the cold of fear even at the height of the suns across the Syakh desert. The feeling felt unique and recalled a sensation that she knew she had felt before. She felt the same feeling that she had felt in the foreign quarter bazaar days ago in Khi’ir. She suddenly recalled the visage of that man that she had met. She felt a burning feeling then, but this was different. It felt like a cold burn. A freeze so cold it could burn away all feeling. What was his name? She had forgotten, but she remembered the face. The dark brown hair. The dark blue blazing eyes.
The dark blue blazing eyes. The dark blue blazing eyes? There they were in front of her. Behind the dark blue blazing eyes no longer ran the dark brown hair but a blazing skull. She looked at the face that no longer existed.
“Lir!” Antius wove a barrier and intercepted several incoming arcane blasts.
Lir blinked. There he stood, the dark blue blazing eyes of the man she met at the bazaar. Yet he was no man, she discerned. He was a monster. Galtros Penrimore laughed a ghoulish throaty laugh as his eyes burned in blue arcane wisps of fire while the orange desert winds coalesced around him. His hands glowed with light.
In his palms swirled orbs of arcane energy that he could unleash with simple thought, which he did. Antius pulled his staff from the ground and spun it to generate another arcane shield.
“Lir!” Antius cried as he responded with a flurry of lightning bolts that kicked up sand and charred the desert air.
The streaks flew toward Galtros who wiped them clean with a passing hand. However, Lir remained frozen in a trance. She only saw the penetrating fire of the blazing blue eyes.
“Lir snap out of it!” Antius deflected a blast of flame.
Galtros pressed forward with frost roots that held the girl in her place. Antius melted the frost with a spell cast from one hand while the other maintained a barrier pushing back against Galtros. Antius always had a proficiency for managing more than one spell at a time.
“You’re quite the adept aren’t you, Master Geminus?” Galtros unleashed several more bolts of lightning.
“How do you know my name?” Antius countered with a set of arcane orange fire bolts that intercepted the arcing white lightning bolts.
Galtros seemed impressed by the young mage’s ability to divide his concentration between a set of spells aimed at the girl and another set aimed at himself. Galtros pitied that he would never live to see the fullest potential of his abilities.
“This has been rather entertaining,” Galtros chuckled.
He phase stepped behind the two other mages and formed daggers of arcane ice behind him. Antius spun around and planted his staff once more to generate a barrier, which intercepted the ice daggers. Antius stopped and the barrier faltered. A sharp pain entered his chest and he realized that he activated the barrier only seconds late. He looked to his heart and he saw the dagger of ice impaled just under his breast. His breath slowed to gasps, and his eyes blinked in and out.
Antius fell to the sand. Galtros looked at the tranced girl. He shook his head. He raised a palm up and a single dagger of bubbling shadows swirled in his palm. He took the blade and walked up to her. He held her by the throat even as his magic kept her mindless. He saw the blackness that covered her eyes like a veil, and he saw inside that she cowered like a scared little girl. Her spirit faded with each passing second. He shunted the blade into her heart and she exhaled a gasp which released the dark veil. She finally recognized him for what he was, but she was too late. She could feel the last bits of her spirit failing.
The blazing eyes of Galtros Penrimore filled her view before darkness. As he let her body slump to the ground beside the other mage, a small piece of parchment escaped her hand. Penrimore planted his foot on the parchment that would have flitted away with the desert wind. He unfolded the parchment. The parchment had a small resemblance to a hand-drawn map of Syakh’s western coast. A line marked a path from Khi’ir to Seirkent to Hatef to Nabbuz. The mage folded the parchment and vanished in a swirl of shadows.
The setting changes from Gyarazi Desert to Seirkent
The city of Seirkent boasted some of the finest spires and towers that ever adorned the sands of Syakh. The city flourished as a hub of commerce and trade, but it had seen better days. Asyral’s aggression from the east and the other cities competing for the market on the west led to many of the denizens migrating for the better parts of the desert.
During the crusades, the Imperial army destroyed the entire western portion of the city in a siege. Emperor Loenthil then returned and ordered the reconstruction of the city. Many visitors to the city will often recognize the strange statues that adorn the western gates of the city. The more learned of these travelers will know the influence that the Empire left behind in what some would have considered its golden age.
The city itself soon grew under the reign of Rafha the Magnificent, who built Seirkent into a jewel of the desert beyond the Gyarazi. The entire western section of the city that the Imperials had destroyed became the Western Markets district with its many tents and stalls propped up. A small little two story flat lay nestled at an intersection among the various spice and bread stands that kept a steady stream of visitors and customers coming in and out.
The two story flat belonged to a blind sage by the name of Amara. She appeared to be of D’homani descent reaching her early sixties or perhaps she was older, no one knew. Sages tended not to reveal their true ages, but an outside glance and others would perceive her to be an aging woman. Though, it would also appear that she aged with some level of grace afforded to her through what many could guess to be excellent herbal concoctions that kept her skin gleaming. Her refusal to step outside further protected her delicate skin from the harsh desert wind and sun that almost every Syakh child had grown accustomed to.
She stocked her shelves with a variety of herbs, but those were for personal use instead of selling. Many who lived in the area considered Amara a renowned sage woman, but her reputation only stretched as far as she would allow it. Those who knew her knew that she was renowned for ability to scry. Though, she rarely scryed, and she was very exclusive as to who she would perform her magic for. A stranger bravo swinging into her peaceful abode dropping crowns as though he bled them would not garner her sympathy or her magic. She would have to deem one worthy, but nobody knew what her criteria for worthiness was.
She did hear someone enter as evidence by the sharp creak of the wooden door and the clank of the door knob.
“You don’t look so good,” the blind sage woman nodded to herself, “Though, that’s not to say that I can see, but from what I’m hearing and smelling, I can only assume you don’t look so good. What’s the news today, rogue?”
During the crusades, the Imperial army destroyed the entire western portion of the city in a siege. Emperor Loenthil then returned and ordered the reconstruction of the city. Many visitors to the city will often recognize the strange statues that adorn the western gates of the city. The more learned of these travelers will know the influence that the Empire left behind in what some would have considered its golden age.
The city itself soon grew under the reign of Rafha the Magnificent, who built Seirkent into a jewel of the desert beyond the Gyarazi. The entire western section of the city that the Imperials had destroyed became the Western Markets district with its many tents and stalls propped up. A small little two story flat lay nestled at an intersection among the various spice and bread stands that kept a steady stream of visitors and customers coming in and out.
The two story flat belonged to a blind sage by the name of Amara. She appeared to be of D’homani descent reaching her early sixties or perhaps she was older, no one knew. Sages tended not to reveal their true ages, but an outside glance and others would perceive her to be an aging woman. Though, it would also appear that she aged with some level of grace afforded to her through what many could guess to be excellent herbal concoctions that kept her skin gleaming. Her refusal to step outside further protected her delicate skin from the harsh desert wind and sun that almost every Syakh child had grown accustomed to.
She stocked her shelves with a variety of herbs, but those were for personal use instead of selling. Many who lived in the area considered Amara a renowned sage woman, but her reputation only stretched as far as she would allow it. Those who knew her knew that she was renowned for ability to scry. Though, she rarely scryed, and she was very exclusive as to who she would perform her magic for. A stranger bravo swinging into her peaceful abode dropping crowns as though he bled them would not garner her sympathy or her magic. She would have to deem one worthy, but nobody knew what her criteria for worthiness was.
She did hear someone enter as evidence by the sharp creak of the wooden door and the clank of the door knob.
“You don’t look so good,” the blind sage woman nodded to herself, “Though, that’s not to say that I can see, but from what I’m hearing and smelling, I can only assume you don’t look so good. What’s the news today, rogue?”
The setting changes from Seirkent to Gyarazi Desert
“Ye don’t have many nice words for yer old master do ye? Comon’ boyo. Nothin’” Penth smacked his lips.
“I’m free now.”
Penth spit the ground and guffawed as though he had heard the best joke of all time, “That can be rectified rather quickly.”
Huo wanted to burn the smug grin that remained after the laughter died, but he said nothing and did nothing. He could see plenty of Penth’s near clean teeth, which contradicted his memory. He recalled having seen the slaver with crooked teeth and festering gums. Perhaps, he thought, his mind clouded those thoughts due to years of serving Penth. There was no real love. The same could be said of Dhaxi. The Osu felt the same about all his slavemasters. He wondered if Niobe and the others came looking for him. However, his mind quickly silenced that thought. It was unlikely. They probably continued their way toward Seirkent. He didn’t expect them to return to find him. Most never did.
His head hurt as he tried to remember the events. He remembered that he traveled with the dwarf and the kaleth. They had made some significant progress into a land with no end, and thus no actual progress. He saw images of a giant creature, a giant outline in his mind. Then the thirst in his throat and the parches of his lips recalled him to his present moment. All of this culminated into a single distinguishing thought that revolved around escaping. He had to entertain a few words with Penth. The reunion felt uncomfortable. Yet, much had changed since they last saw each other.
“Seems ye’ve gone mute with yer new master?” Penth laughed, revealing the brown crooked rear teeth, “It’s a pity because ye would have learned to fight with me.”
The slaver glared at Huo before he returned to the others just around the canyon wall by the firepit which cast the shadows of the group for the Osu to see. The group chewed through the roasted game fish from their provisions. Huo wondered if he could burn his way through the chains. Though, he would have to attempt an escape to find out, but if that attempt failed then it would alert Penth to his former slave’s newfound powers. Huo needed to keep his abilities a secret. Secrecy was his advantage, that, and the fact that he wanted to see what his old boss was up to.
He felt a surge of the flow build and lit a brief flame in his palm, but then he extinguished the flame and waited.
Three of Penth’s comrades, filthy roughshod barbarians and bandits, armed with cleavers and scimitars approached the tied-up fighter and pelted a few fists into the latter’s stomach just to blow off some steam. Huo exhaled as he let the pain drum on underneath his skin. Then they untied him from the piton nailed into the canyon that the rope had been tied to. They retied his hands behind his back and walked him around the canyon wall.
Upon rounding the corner, Huo saw the various tents pitched around a center firepit where a piece of lamb roasted. He saw the various bandits some decked in armor and nothing else while others wore light and bright tunics with animal feathers and plumes sticking out of their helms. Others wore shemaghs that covered their faces save the eyes. He also saw several caged wagons where many captives had been chained and roped together. There were felidins, humans, tharonians, and epori captured.
Before he saw any further, a crushing blow hit the back of his head and Huo fell unconscious again.
Iyoka galloped on horseback until she reached the very same canyon. She dismounted and found the campfire pits had been extinguished. She wiped her fingers over the charred wood and inhaled whatever trace hints she could use to track her quarry. Then she remounted the steed and galloped off into the desert.
“I’m free now.”
Penth spit the ground and guffawed as though he had heard the best joke of all time, “That can be rectified rather quickly.”
Huo wanted to burn the smug grin that remained after the laughter died, but he said nothing and did nothing. He could see plenty of Penth’s near clean teeth, which contradicted his memory. He recalled having seen the slaver with crooked teeth and festering gums. Perhaps, he thought, his mind clouded those thoughts due to years of serving Penth. There was no real love. The same could be said of Dhaxi. The Osu felt the same about all his slavemasters. He wondered if Niobe and the others came looking for him. However, his mind quickly silenced that thought. It was unlikely. They probably continued their way toward Seirkent. He didn’t expect them to return to find him. Most never did.
His head hurt as he tried to remember the events. He remembered that he traveled with the dwarf and the kaleth. They had made some significant progress into a land with no end, and thus no actual progress. He saw images of a giant creature, a giant outline in his mind. Then the thirst in his throat and the parches of his lips recalled him to his present moment. All of this culminated into a single distinguishing thought that revolved around escaping. He had to entertain a few words with Penth. The reunion felt uncomfortable. Yet, much had changed since they last saw each other.
“Seems ye’ve gone mute with yer new master?” Penth laughed, revealing the brown crooked rear teeth, “It’s a pity because ye would have learned to fight with me.”
The slaver glared at Huo before he returned to the others just around the canyon wall by the firepit which cast the shadows of the group for the Osu to see. The group chewed through the roasted game fish from their provisions. Huo wondered if he could burn his way through the chains. Though, he would have to attempt an escape to find out, but if that attempt failed then it would alert Penth to his former slave’s newfound powers. Huo needed to keep his abilities a secret. Secrecy was his advantage, that, and the fact that he wanted to see what his old boss was up to.
He felt a surge of the flow build and lit a brief flame in his palm, but then he extinguished the flame and waited.
Three of Penth’s comrades, filthy roughshod barbarians and bandits, armed with cleavers and scimitars approached the tied-up fighter and pelted a few fists into the latter’s stomach just to blow off some steam. Huo exhaled as he let the pain drum on underneath his skin. Then they untied him from the piton nailed into the canyon that the rope had been tied to. They retied his hands behind his back and walked him around the canyon wall.
Upon rounding the corner, Huo saw the various tents pitched around a center firepit where a piece of lamb roasted. He saw the various bandits some decked in armor and nothing else while others wore light and bright tunics with animal feathers and plumes sticking out of their helms. Others wore shemaghs that covered their faces save the eyes. He also saw several caged wagons where many captives had been chained and roped together. There were felidins, humans, tharonians, and epori captured.
Before he saw any further, a crushing blow hit the back of his head and Huo fell unconscious again.
Iyoka galloped on horseback until she reached the very same canyon. She dismounted and found the campfire pits had been extinguished. She wiped her fingers over the charred wood and inhaled whatever trace hints she could use to track her quarry. Then she remounted the steed and galloped off into the desert.
View All »Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.
There are no arcs in this roleplay.
View All » Create New » Quests
There are no quests in this roleplay.
Game Master Controls
Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.
Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.
Add Quest » Quests
You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.
Add Setting » 21 Settings for your players to play in
Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.
Navigation
While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!
Collectibles
By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.
Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.
Mobs
Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!
Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
Current Mobs
No mobs have been created yet.
Spawns
Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
Events
You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.
Orphanage
By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Skaerra: The Unlikely Tale. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
Notable Items
The Market
Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
Market DataMarket conditions are Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale) |
Open Stores
View All » Add Character » 21 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Daemon Samil
"What is normal to the spider, is chaos to the fly."
Sanvi
"A real problem only occurs when there are admittedly disadvantages in all courses that can be pursued."
Ya'weh
Spiritual gladiator trainer.
Caspian Polarus
A blacksmith journeyman who has recently started working at the coliseum he's nothing special and not an adventurer.
Danairia Feyn
The Drunkard Elvish sell-sword known for her outspoken abrasiveness, uncommon in the likes of other elves....
Antius Geminus
"The world is a fascinating place. I want to see it."
Huo
Fiery pugilist and runaway slave. His temper isn't as bad as his fists.
Trending
Antius Geminus
"The world is a fascinating place. I want to see it."
Danairia Feyn
The Drunkard Elvish sell-sword known for her outspoken abrasiveness, uncommon in the likes of other elves....
Sanvi
"A real problem only occurs when there are admittedly disadvantages in all courses that can be pursued."
Daemon Samil
"What is normal to the spider, is chaos to the fly."
Caspian Polarus
A blacksmith journeyman who has recently started working at the coliseum he's nothing special and not an adventurer.
Ya'weh
Spiritual gladiator trainer.
Huo
Fiery pugilist and runaway slave. His temper isn't as bad as his fists.
Most Followed
Sanvi
"A real problem only occurs when there are admittedly disadvantages in all courses that can be pursued."
Daemon Samil
"What is normal to the spider, is chaos to the fly."
Caspian Polarus
A blacksmith journeyman who has recently started working at the coliseum he's nothing special and not an adventurer.
Huo
Fiery pugilist and runaway slave. His temper isn't as bad as his fists.
Danairia Feyn
The Drunkard Elvish sell-sword known for her outspoken abrasiveness, uncommon in the likes of other elves....
Antius Geminus
"The world is a fascinating place. I want to see it."
Ya'weh
Spiritual gladiator trainer.
View All » Places
3 posts · 3 characters present · last post 2017-07-12 08:37:08 »
The desert that surrounds the coastal cities of Khi'ir and Korm on the western coast of Syakh.
1 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2017-06-27 21:55:51 »
Syakh ↪ Seirkent Owner: VindicatedPurpose
Seirkent is located further in land away from Syakh.
6 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2017-03-17 19:50:22 »
The continent of Syakh is home to Sultanates and Caliphates, the free cities, and the ruins of of the Zengid Empire.
10 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2017-03-16 02:09:26 »
Syakh ↪ Khi'ir Owner: VindicatedPurpose
The city of Khi'ir is a fine port city off the western coast of the continent of Syakh.
2 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2017-02-12 19:01:48 »
The continent of Dessor is home to the Empire of Dessor and the Elven Realms.
19 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-12-02 03:10:36 »
The White Sphinx aptly named because of the White Sphinx creature that adorns the entrance.
6 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-12-02 03:09:32 »
The Foreign Quarter is a section of Khi'ir's lower city where a number of expatriates and non-natives live and work.
2 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-11-03 23:33:36 »
The Meroan Sea is a body of water that separates the southern tips of Dessor from Syakh.
2 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2016-10-27 22:44:32 »
One of the major cities of the Province of Opris within the Empire of Dessor.
2 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-10-16 02:30:53 »
Aetumnas, otherwise known as the Imperial City.
3 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-09-10 02:03:34 »
Dessor ↪ Daellean Owner: VindicatedPurpose
Daellean. Also known as The Elven Realm to outsiders.
1 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-08-09 00:46:01 »
The Province of Aetille is otherwise known as the Imperial Province.
64 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2016-07-30 22:37:29 »
The central attraction at Opynonias, if the walls are not bloodied, something has gone wrong.
8 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-03-30 05:15:45 »
The marketplace is lined with indoor shops and merchant stands covered beneath canopies of fabric.
2 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-02-23 21:29:37 »
A quiet neighborhood district, east of the Colosseum, and south of the marketplace. Dhaxi's manor can be found here.
2 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2016-01-30 19:50:20 »
The Province of Opris, major cities include Opynonias.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Upper Plane is the realm of the gods and angels.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Hamyzadh desert is located east of the Syakh free cities and the Sultanate of Asyral.
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Skaerra || Magic and Flow
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