Materialism At It's Finest (Open)

by **Shade** on December 2nd, 2011, 5:53 pm

4th of Winter, 511 AV. The 4th Day Market - Nyka

It was the first market of winter and Shadekas had arranged for time away from his work to walk it. Winter markets were special because when the watchtowers flared it was often thought that merchants that hadn't previously picked a port might settle on Nyka to unload the last of their wares before the true cold set in. Shadekas had no interest in pottery, clothing, or the usual market faire. Instead, he was looking for inspiration. Sometimes something as simple as the curve of a pot could ignite his creativity and cause him to go back to the workshop and design a new piece of jewelry. He took inspiration in the braiding of a ladies hairstyle or the swish of her skirts. The sunset and sunrise also caused him to get ideas and sometimes even something as simple as the way a tent in the market was secured by knotwork would lead him to spend hours at his workbench crafting something new.

So Shadekas was at the market to learn, observe, and people watch. It also gave him a chance to see what the ladies were wearing jewelry wise these days even though none was for sale at the market. They wore it, everywhere it seemed, and used it to enhance their already significant or not so significant looks. Maybe he'd even select a companion for himself from one of the dutifully decorated daughters and take them home for a little afternoon diversion if the right flavor was spotted. And maybe he'd even run across that soapstone he'd been looking for. One or two head-sized chunks of it would do him nicely for he'd gotten the notion that perhaps his carving skills, which were non-existent, could use some practice.

And so he paced carefully through the wretched place, purposeless without seemingly to be purposeless. His brown robe had its hood down, and his hammer emblem was clearly visible. He walked with authority and confidence even though he wasn't looking for trouble. If he did anything less, trouble would find him.

by **Jett Variona** on December 3rd, 2011, 2:00 am

The day was bright, but at least it wasn't hot. He hated the hot, especially while hung over.

His head throbbed and his eyes hurt from the light. Jett tried his best to look intimidating but mostly ended up looking like his mind was elsewhere. That wasn't, he knew, the best outlook for a monk on market duty to have. He did his best whenever one of his Order passed him, and doubled that when another monk of a different Order went by (not without a tense locking of eyes of course) but otherwise did not care how the general populace viewed him. He wanted more drink, but that would have to wait until sundown.

At least the duty was far from boring. Though there was no one shouting out their wares as one may normally expect from a market of this size, there was plenty to see and plenty he could wish to buy. It was not as boring as it could be, but there was action yet to be had. There was always a commotion that needed a stern word, always a loud mouth attempting to haggle. That just took a stern word however, and soon enough the rising disturbance was at an end. No action at all.

His aching eyes latched onto a familiar form, though one he was surprised to see. He deftly pierced through the crowd, and clapped his friend on the back. "Shady!" He chuckled in greeting. "I didn't know you were on duty. How's the day treating you friend?"

by **Kassan** on December 3rd, 2011, 10:59 am

Kassan walked into the Fourth Day Market uneasily. Anything that gathered outsiders in Nyka sent his heart a little giddy, because there was always the chance. Always the chance he might finally hear something about those who saved his life all that time ago.

He was using his scarce free time as wisely as he could. When he wasn't training, he was trading in rumours and news. Had the masked men been seen? Had any slavers caravans been near Nyka?

Uphis preserve me, he thought quietely, I know you'll give me the answers when the time is right.

He was hopeless at chatting though. An imposing, muscular Benshira, with a glaive on his back, did little to make people talk. Silenced by their fear, he always got the feeling he was being fed half truths.

Reservedly, he continued to walk through the market, ears open to anything interesting.

by **Aberdon** on December 4th, 2011, 12:14 am

Like sparks from an anvil, those of Xannos marched with deliberate aimlessness toward the market place. It was the high time of day, sunlight striking the earth in repeated assaults. Water shimmered back, the tops of heads or brown hassock robes bobbing in and out of shadow.

Aberdon forced his pace measured, trying to impart some structure to his afternoon journey. Control was the most basic tenement a monk could possess, but it was Aberdon who struggled with the concept the most. At its core tenements, patience and control were conditions built upon stronger bases. Like houses, to place a cornerstone on the sand of a seashore was only asking to lose the home come high tide.

Aberdon was a tumultuous ground of shifting lands and scoured, scarred surfaces.

Today the Isur wore his clothes heavy on his back, eschewing normal tradition of shameless semi-nudity in lieu of hiding his marks of shame. His history was tattooed on his back in latticed lines of criss crossing agony. It wasn't his fault, but the fact he fought so little enabled his guilt. Now he sought refuge beneath Xannos, hammering the stone and creating blades for Uphis.

Why not?

The world was wide but he had no home to return to. His parents rotted beneath the ground in Zeltiva and there was no kinship between his brethren in Sultros. Easier still to make anew here, where strength of arm and raw ability held sway. Although short by a human's standards, the stocky Isur was fairly adept at holding his own in prolonged battles. His left arm glinted bright yellow, catching the sunlight and refracting it across the marketplace. He walked as though his arm were gold...melted and forged by the hands of Semele herself.

Perhaps it was.

Although he had not been a monk long, already this place felt drawing. It was as though the oath to defend had rooted him to the divided city, sapping his wander lust and need for revenge with each passing day. The fury never left him, trapped just beneath a thin wall and pulsing daily, but it had become less and less pertinent to leave.

There was companionship here.

His hood was down, black hair loose and bobbed by the brisk pace of his walk. Trouble rarely seemed to find Nyka for long, swift trained hands moving to subjugate and shatter it before it found hold, but there was enough disturbance to generate an environment of friendly rivalry.

Even among his own order.

When Jett called out to Shadekas, Aberdon swiveled his direction toward their fast approaching meeting. He clapped a hand on Jett's shoulder from behind, reaching up to do it and giving a jaunty, golden wave to Shadekas.

"Shade!" he bellowed, his voice a surprisingly resonate baritone for one so short, "Fair afternoon to you, looking for new material to turn your tools upon?" He winked, his grip tightening on Jett's shoulder before pivoting himself around to face the monk, his smile wide and knowing. "I didn't expect to see you before evening, I'm surprised you can face the day with such bravery...especially after last night." The pain in Jett's face was apparent, and no doubt the Isur's voice was like hammers on his mind. Aberdon was no avid supporter of spirits, but drinking with Jett was a rare exception. He imbibed little, letting Jett direct the topics and spirit of the evening. It may have always felt as though Jett was having more fun than he, but it was worth it to take pleasure in his morning sufferings.

The rage building inside him ebbed, fleeing in the presence of companionship. As a slave, such connections were pointlessly dangerous, exploited for perverse pleasure.

Here?

Here he could afford to be looser, friendlier, brighter.

And so he was.

by **Shade** on December 4th, 2011, 2:33 am

The peace of the market was interrupted by a familiar voice sung out into the not-so-thick crowd. Shade was acutely aware that this day the merchants wouldn't be heavily lining their pockets. He turned his head, spotted Jett, and changed course. Reaching the other monk, Shade immediately clasped arms with him. Shade's grip was strong as he gave Jett a close once-over and then offered a smile as he released his arm. "I'm better than you look, Jett. Did you drink Nyka dry last night? " He said, smiling and turning to survey the market along with his brother.

"Relatively empty today. I wonder where everyone is. " He observed, casting his glance about. It was one of the poorest turn-outs he'd seen for the celestial fourth day market yet. "I figured with the season change there'd be an influx of new merchants. I get tired of the same old crap offered for sale by the same ancient merchants. I swear several of them are pushing a hundred. No wonder the turnout is so poor. Nyka deserves better. So do our Alvina. Yet we always get the seasonal leftovers. What a bunch of crap." He said, offering Jett a slight crooked grin, telling the other monk he only half meant it and was just making idle conversation. Shade knew Jett's patrol was going to be duller than an eastern quarter blade at this rate and that any conversation, even a poor one, would be welcomed.

Shade's gaze cast about and spotted a Benshira sporting an Uphis badge. He gave the man a polite uplift of his chin as he made eye contact. As polite as the gesture was, the twinkle in Shade's eye meant he was definitely thinking other thoughts less polite. Two against one.

Quietly, with an aire of mirth, he glanced at Jett and then pointedly at Kassan. There was a comment in his eyes though the Xannos monk said nothing about the other Uphis Monk. The odds were against an altercation with Kassan anyhow. As fun as that would be, the Xannos followers were greatly outnumbering the Uphis Monk as two against one became three against one as Aberdon joined them.

Shade reached around Jett (no small feat) and thumped Aberdon on the forehead playfully, right where his bandana was covering the mark no one ever talked about around Aberdon. It was a show of solidarity. "Hey there, little brother. Hiding behind Jett again?" The comment was delivered in a teasing affectionate tone. All three of them knew that while Shade was a tad taller, Aberdon was all Isur bulk and held his own in a fight that could easily include bending Shade in half and breaking him like a twig if the mood struck.

Shade was careful not to provoke him. Aberdon was never one to take on in a fight just like Shade knew trying to drink Jett under the table was next to useless. The Jeweler liked both men and was glad for their company in the otherwise dismal market.

"I was just complaining to Jett how shabby this market is for the first of the season. I can't believe the empty stalls and no new products. I came for inspiration and some soapstone. Neither seems to be found. What do you make of it? Are we in for a lean winter? Last year wasn't bad." He paused, darted his gaze back on Kassan's approach, and then turned his eyes back to the two Xannos Monks. "Are you on duty too, or is Jett the big looser of the draw today? " [/b] Shade kept his voice down, even, conscious of Jett's hangover and

by **Jett Variona** on December 4th, 2011, 9:28 pm

"Peace, my friends, peace!" Jett pleaded, putting two fingers to his temple and exaggerating a groan. "You're voices do me more harm than any of your jests!"

Indeed the night before had been something of a wild ruckus, particularly for the hungover monk. He drank far more than he should have and ended up too unsteady to stand. He had bid Aberdon a good night and insisted that he'd be able to get home by himself. Of course, that was a fib that both Jett and the barkeep had known. The unlucky man could do nothing to usher out a monk, and had tried to leave quietly. Jett growled at him, half passed out upon the table, that if he even thought about leaving him that Jett would rearrange his organs in a new and colorful manner. Sighing, the resigned bartender locked the door and curled up the in bed he had made up under the bar for nights like these.

Jett had woken up late the next day and had no time to take a trip back to his quarters. He poured cold water on himself (cursing loudly) and quickly made his way to the 4th Day Market. In fact if one came close enough they could still smell the whiskey in his aura.

His mind flew back to the painful present, and he noticed the veer in Shade's gaze. He followed it and spotted the Uphis monk who had come near them. Jett remained expressionless, though turned his head sharply so that a short crack! resounded in his neck. He knew there would be no violence between monks here, but the last thing Jett wanted was for word to spread falsely that Xannos's finest had gone soft, especially around the Uphis bunch. He himself would start nothing, but he put on his tough-guy face nonetheless.

Jett turned away and back to his companions. He certainly had no problem with the other monks of the Order, and had even been known to play nicely when the time called for it. The only problem he did have was his love of fighting, and monks were really the only challenge in this city. There's was nothing better, in Jett's mind, than a night of drinking, fighting, and women. Not necessarily in that order either.

"As for soapstone, I've found nothing that would suit your talents, though I've only just arrived. My father has to be around here somewhere, and if you need stone then there is none finer." Jett turned to Aberdon. "Even if you are not on duty, I am sorely tempted to drag you around anyway. Anything to lift up the boredom to come!"

by **Kassan** on December 5th, 2011, 11:21 pm

As he walked slowly through the market, listening for any bit of news he could squeeze from the merchants, he noticed a small gathering of Xannos monks. His hand instinctively went towards his glaive, but he paused.

Xannos monks were fools, and the three of them were trying their hardest to intimidate them. His eyes narrowed. Uphis was his armour, and thirty monks, let alone three, couldn't pierce the God of Blades. And if they came at him, he was ready.

He glanced at his glaive. He wouldn't ready it yet, but it was there for battle.

He had come here hoping for news and rumours, not confrontation. But Nyka was a dangerous place, and one had to keep their wits about them. This was the neutral quarter, but the three men of Xannos didn't look particularly neutral. They were chatting away privately, stealing glances at him.

He began to walk towards them to test the water.

by **Aberdon** on December 6th, 2011, 1:20 am

Aberdon checked his chuckles, swallowing them and giving his brother a bit of reprieve. The market was loud enough, but still somewhat bare for the time of day. Shadekas was correct, the vendors this season were pale in comparison to their supply last time. It wasn't anything to be worried about however, business came and went like the tide and sometimes it did not yield as expected...but for the sake of Shade's work, he hoped the monk would find what he needed.

Aberdon, also, was in the market for material. The uneasy truce between he and some of the Uphis monks was brokered on his ability to forge blades, a task he had been given long ago by...darker figures, and he was lax to let the talent fade for lack of use. "Such a fortunate father to have so influential an advertiser," The isur commented wryly, grinning, "Would that the other merchants have such accomplished sons to broker their wares."

He shook his head to Shade, cracking his neck and giving Jett a solid smack on the back, rocking the fellow with the weight of his stone arm. "Nah, just this one...but I warrant we should be the better brothers and make sure he finishes his rounds without collapsing." His teeth glimmered from his smile, wide and honest, boisterous and barely restrained. Aberdon was a creature of impulse and instinct, passion and movement...both brothers knew that about him, and that his temper could surface in the space of a moment.

Scarred, broken creature, hiding his wounds from those sworn to accept him.

Still, it wasn't a story to darken a cool day with, not while Jett still reeled from last night's revelry.

He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but the approach of the Uphis monk quickly stole the words from his mouth. Stepping in front of Jett and Shadekas, the stocky isur crossed his arms and settled his stance. Kassan of the Glaive, a monk he knew but mostly by name. Conversations with the man had always been stilted with the loyalty of both their sides. Surely the fool wasn't going to challenge all three of them was he? Jett would be an easy prey, his mind already addled by the aftermath of his joy, but Shadekas and Aberdon were hardly so winded.

"See something you want?" The isur mocked, mostly before he could stop himself, following through with a wink and a jocular grin, "Nah," he continued shaking his head with a chuckle, "You're not crazy enough to be looking for trouble here...you must be coming by to wish us a fair noon. That must be it."

He took a breath, cracking his neck again, his golden arm gleaming by the daylight sun. "Or do I misjudge?"

by **Shade** on December 6th, 2011, 9:27 pm

Without saying a word, Shade sighed inside. It always had to be like this with tension and uncertainty between the Monks. He wished it was different. But peaceful coexistence didn't breed strength and Nyka needed her Monks strong. Shade gave Jett a slight grin and shook his head a moment. "I hadn't thought of that Jett. Finding your old man and getting what I wanted from him is a fine idea. You sure he'll give me a fair price or will he double the rate just because I'm with you?" Shade said, his blue eyes sparkling slightly. He had, however, significantly dropped the volume of his voice in deference to Jett's obvious hangover. "I wonder where's he set up this time? I must not have wandered far enough." Shade said, giving Aberdon a quick glance. There had to be something they could do to get Jett through his duty and into bed. Xannos knew he'd done it enough times for them.

But the day wasn't getting any younger and even as he watched the entertainment grew. Where there was one Uphis monk thought, there was certain to be more. While Aberdon kept his eyes on the new commer Shade kept his gaze scanning the area. Caution was a way of life in Nyka, even if it was caution from what should have been their allies.

"I think we can keep you entertained for a few more bells. Are you on until midday?" Shade asked, glancing around. He laid eyes on the Uphis monk and chuckled under his breath. "I take that back, he might keep us all entertained for the next few bells." Shade said, just as softly. He didn't think the fool was going to attack three of them in the middle of the market, but then crazier things had happened. "Morning, Uphis. Fine weapon you got there. Craft it yourself?" It never hurt to defuse a situation with a compliment. This time Shade actually meant it too. He glanced at the Isur, chuckled slightly, almost proud of Aberdon for being polite.

by **Jett Variona** on December 10th, 2011, 3:57 am

"If he tries to alter the price I'd have to haul him in myself! You know there is no haggling on the 4th Day Market. And please do not bully him into it just so I have to bring in my own father. The old man has had enough grief from me, I think." He bellowed with a hearty laugh, then immediately regretted it as a wave of pain pounded his head as a hammer pounds an anvil. That increased when the Isur's sturdy arm collided with his back. Jett emitted a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

The monk stopped talking when the Uphis one came nearer, suspicious of the situation. He rested a hand on Agnis and stood taller, trying to hide the sickness of the morning and doing rather well, if he said so himself. It was something he was practiced at, particularly if there was a fight approaching. He was on duty however, and so he would have to do all he could to avoid a scuffle. Still, if he should attack, he would have no choice but to defend himself, he happily considered. That would be just the thing to clear his hangover after all. Nothing like pumping blood to remove the toxins of the sweet fire.