A Strange Land (Open)

by **Carsten** on December 2nd, 2011, 4:54 pm

”What have I done to offend you?” Carsten asked, cocking his head and looking at Revy. She looked ready to burst in anger. Would she attack him openly? The Myrians disliked them both, he knew that, but would they interfere if a fight broke out? He thought so, but perhaps only to move them to another place. Carsten doubted that the Myrians cared whether the two outlanders killed each other or not. Of course, he was not entirely sure that he would defeat Revy. Perhaps now, that she was wounded, but he had no doubt she was a ferocious enemy. Would she even try to fight him now that she was wounded, or was she smarter than that? If she thought he had insulted her, she might not. How many people did not disregard their own health to get revenge? No, Revy was smarter than so, if not, she would have attacked him already. They would try to resolve their differences, or not. If Carsten could only find a Myrian willing to talk to him, he could just stay away from her. For now, he hoped the two of them might have better luck than him alone.

The flow of people changed for a moment, and Carsten thought he heard something in the crowd not too far away, but when he turned he could see nothing through the crowd. Ignoring it, he turned his head to Revy again.

by **Revy Hiroe** on December 2nd, 2011, 10:58 pm

Revy slowly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what you have done wrong. And... that... is... being... born. You just piss me off to no end with your voice, the way you act and even look.", she spat at the guy. She didn't hold anything back as she continued: "Besides, you..... took my kill. And for that, I'll NEVER forgive you."

The mercenary had also noticed the change in the flow of the crowd and took that chance to get away from the cultist. "See you later, gotta get going. I want to finish my work before dinner if possible.", she said as she moved past him towards the Siiri and the Chaktawe, though she didn't know that yet.

The tall woman was inclined on getting away from the fencer. Why was he getting on her nerves like that? Besides the most obvious reason of him taking her kill, there wasn't really anything that he was doing wrong. But every action of his just pissed her off to no end. *Perhaps I should just challenge him to a duel once my arm heals up. Then I can at least kill him and be rid of him. Well, back to exploring the place I guess.*, she thought.

by **Zolaj** on December 3rd, 2011, 3:25 pm

Zolaj felt a jerk in her arm and with one brief blink, her arm was twisted behind her back and she found herself in the clutches of a stranger. Before she had time to take a breath, a metal piece of a dagger pushed against her cheek, making her heart jump and beat faster than normal. Anxiousness grew in the pit of her stomach from her confusion and fear. This stranger was faster and stronger than she could ever be. She heard a sharp, blunt voice near hear ear.

“How did you get into the city, deyhan? Who's your watch, and how did you get the slip on her that you're wandering out here alone in the Plaza?"

The twist of her arm tightened causing a piercing shock of broken glass through her muscles. Zolaj winced and couldn't help, but cry out to the shock. Physical pain was not something she was used to. The only times she had really hurt herself was when she tripped or had run into something. She gulped and tried to collect herself and her thoughts with quick,sharply drawn breaths so she could translate what the Myrian had said. With difficulty, her brain processed the words and translated that the Myrian said something about Deyhan who slipped and is now walking in the city. That couldn't be right, she thought, why would one attack someone who slipped? Then it hit her, Deyhan was probably a criminal or something.

With a heavy accent, Zolaj spoke in broken Myrian, “Y-You've got...uuh.. wrong girl – I know not who Deyhan is!” Zolaj had a panicked tone. “M-my name is Zolaj – not Deyhan. I arrive here. I cause trouble.” Not realizing her mistake in translation, she turned her head, just a bit to try and get a glimpse of who was behind her. “Let go and I help..uuh..look for this Deyhan person.”

by **Siiri** on December 5th, 2011, 12:43 am

Note for Zolaj :

Carsten and Revy forgotten, at least for now, Siiri focused on the foreigner's pathetic attempt in speaking in Myrian. Her frown, already looking like storm clouds brewing above her emerald eyes when she had found that no one watch tailing the Zolaj girl, deepened at the incorrect conveyance of intention. So this outsider openly admitted to coming her to cause trouble? Maybe she should be made an example of. But Siiri held her blade in check, remembering her younger siblings, who were just about the same age as this waif. Zolaj was still someone's sister, another woman's child. More importantly, she could be a 'rescue' by one of the fangs or, more likely, a Myrian male's chosen mate.

Still, the unspoken laws of Taloba had been broken and there was much to answer for. And it was her duty to get as much answering from this girl as possible. The Myrian who had been derelict in his or her duty would just have to be reported to their superiors later.

"Don't play smart with me, or I'll gut you here in the street for the dogs to feast on," Siiri whispered menacingly in Zolaj's ear once more. "You are deyhan - an outsider! I have seen your kind before... you are desert-folk. How did you come to be in the Goddess-Queen's land?"

She felt suddenly irritated that this girl seemed clueless about the city she was in, but her ire was directed more at those who brought Zolaj into the city that at the poor girl. Did her escorts not explain things to her when they allowed her in? Despite this, Siiri maintained a firm grip on the girl's twisted arm. She was not going to let go until she heard the answers that would satisfy her.

By now, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them, and the commotion would no doubt attract the attention of the two humans Siiri had been observing earlier on.

by **Carsten** on December 6th, 2011, 2:12 pm

She truly was irrational. Hate a man for being born? No, it had to be something else. The way he acted and his voice could certainly put many people off, he had been told this many times, but to cause so much hatred? He doubted it as well; it had never before, why now? Perhaps this place, and its strange people, caused Revy to feel so much more… He could not find the word. Free? Liberated? Perhaps. Maybe the atmosphere and heat had made her crazy? He knew it could happen, but it was not very likely. It would be far more visible if it was the heat, or an insect bite.

He remembered well which kill she talked about. The Dhani. He had attacked it, certainly wounded it, but he was certain that he did not deal the final blow. Siiri had done that, no doubt about it. The fearsome Myrian warrior had charged into combat and slayed the beast. Then proceeded to maul the corpse. ”But I did not kill the Dhani,” he said, ”Siiri did. If you should hate someone for that incident, you should hate her. Even though it was a very joint effort, I believe I wounded it, but so did you, and I am certain that I did not deal the final blow.” he continued as he followed Revy. The crowd had suddenly stopped in a ring around a certain place, and while most mainly moved on with their business, many stopped to watch.

Carsten and Revy broke through the crowd to the front to see what was going on. A Myrian woman was holding a strange woman in a chokehold, almost screaming at her, he could not catch what she said and forced himself forward to see and hear better. The Chaktawe was almost breaking down in fear, it seemed. Was it a Chaktawe? He thought so. He had seen a painting of them once, in Syliras. It had been a small store selling parchments and quills, and some colours, but the wall had been filled with paintings of people, places and items, including a Chaktawe. Carsten wanted to talk to her, why was she in Taloba in the first place? She could tell him about her homeland and people as well. Then he saw that the Myrian woman was Siiri. Such an imposing woman would leave an impression on almost any man, and now that he had a good look at her, he recognized her. He might have thought it strange to see her as a civilian, but it was hard to picture it when she was almost choking a much smaller Chaktawe.

No matter how much he wanted to intervene, he knew the Myrians would not appreciate it, and so he remained almost at the front of the circle gathering around them, merely observing for now.

by **Revy Hiroe** on December 8th, 2011, 9:58 pm

The mercenary didn't react to the fencer anymore. If she'd even look at him now, she'd attack him. Of that she was certain. Of course she knew that her hatred towards him wasn't justified at all, but if there was one major flaw with her, it was that she was very judgmental. If she didn't like you as you'd meet, she'd resent you the rest of her life.

After breaking through the ring of the crowd, Revy immediately recognized Siiri. The scar over her eye and the look in her eyes were more then enough for her. But she hadn't expected her to wear something.... civil like that. Of course she knew that Siiri was different from what she showed her and the other human, but she just couldn't help but be surprised.

"Hmm? That desert dweller pissed Siiri off? I wonder what she did and above that, how she got here in the first place?", the woman asked herself out loud. She was looking at the chaktawe more as if she was looking at any random person, cold and without emotion. It wasn't in her nature at all to help someone, it was just too much trouble for, usually that was, no reward at all. Sometimes she even got into the fight with the guy or woman she had rescued, because they could 'handle' it. Those incidents were very sparse and not to mention from a very long time ago for her.

by **Zolaj** on December 10th, 2011, 5:19 pm

The blade lay still on her cheek by the Myrian. Zolaj squirmed trying to untwist her arm, but it wouldn't budge. “An outsider?” She thought. Maybe she had forgotten to talk to someone to get some sort of pass into the city. It was pretty hectic when she had entered this place. She remembered being pulled away from a large snake hissing at her with its beady eyes and leathery face. A person quickly carried her into the city with one arm that felt like it was made of stone. Looking back, she saw the snake enveloped by a hoard of people and then she turned to see the city of Taloba which made her forget everything about the snake.

“I-I didn't do anything! I swear!” Zolaj stuttered.

“This place must be Taloba. When I was in Ahnatep, a Dhani told me how amazing this place was and that it was full of surprises.” Zolaj snorted trying to lighten the mood. “H-He wasn't exaggerating.”

Her chuckle died out and she gulped hard. “A-anyways, so I and some other strangers traveled towards this place, but the people I was traveling with left me since they were going elsewhere. I thought that I could make it to Taloba by myself cause it was not far off, but this vicious snake almost twice the size of me tried to attack me. Luckily, I ran fast enough for some people save me...They took me into the city to get away from the snake.”

She breathed heavily with her heart almost jumping out of her chest. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a bunch of onlookers gathering around. Maybe one of them will help her.

OOC note :

by **Nyaela** on December 10th, 2011, 10:35 pm

Nyaela brushed past the commoners of Taloba, her eyes taking everyone in and looking at their familiar colours and outfits, searching for something not clearly Myrian. She hadn't been away from that girl for more than a minute and she'd somehow wandered away. If only she had had a collar for the girl when they first met!

She flicked her hair behind her shoulder and forced herself up onto the tips of her toes to see past the heads of the generally taller Myrians, ignoring her embarrassment at having to do so and looked for Zolaj, knowing she would definitely stand out in Taloba. Just in time, she noticed a small crowd begin to gather on one side of the plaza. "Got you now," she murmured triumphantly, starting forwards.

Slipping in through the crowd required only a little nudging here and there, and it did not take her long to realise there was something wrong. From her vantage point, she made out the backs of two people, one holding the other in a rather awkward position. And there she was, her little slave girl with her arm twisted behind her back. A sliver of panic seized her at that moment; she wouldn't get anything for a Chaktawe with bruises or wounds inflicted after her capture. She had to stop this at once.

She pushed harder through the crowd until she made her way to the front, shoving a few people aside to make room for her to pass through. The other woman, clearly Myrian, was whispering something in the Chaktawe's ear. Nyaela couldn't see their faces but there was a limited number of things a Myrian did when they found an outsider alone in their city. "Mark her and you pay for her," she called out in the Myrian tongue. She raised her voice as loudly as she dared, placing her hands on her hips and jutting out her chin. She slowly circled around the two until she could see their faces. Holding out one hand placatingly, she added in a much more level tone to the Myrian, "I do not want to barge in on any punishment she may have earned, and by all means, if you wish to teach her a lesson I can help you, but she won't help anyone with knife marks decorating her face." The fingers of her other hand curled around the leather of the whip at her waist.

She glanced back at the Chaktawe girl and switched to the Common tongue for her benefit, her accent slurring the words together, "You leave the girl and I'll take care of her from here, hmmm? I was under the impression she would stay in place and bother no one when I left." That last bit was added in clipped tones as her eyes set upon Zolaj. Her irritation was masked by a pleasant smile that did not reach her eyes, but, for a fraction of a second, she stared at the Chaktawe with something dark surfacing in her emerald eyes. It faded away and she looked back at the other Myrian, calm as ever. The girl's ability to follow orders were certainly going to be worked on.

OOC :

by **Siiri** on December 10th, 2011, 11:37 pm

OOCWelcome to Taloba, Nyaela!

Siiri's eyes narrowed at the mention of the word 'Dhani'. The rest of the girl's story passed through her like the whispers of the wind after hearing that one word. Around them, even the other Myrians frowned and muttered under their breaths as the tar-eyed Chaktawe tried to explain herself.

"A what told you what?" she asked, her tone turning even more dangerous, if that was possible. "Do you openly admit that you collude with those scaled, motherless bastards? In this...this Ahnatep place?"

The Snapping Jaws warrioress was in a red haze at that moment, the corners of her vision darkening as she focused on this teenage twerp trying to talk her way out of her predicament, but only seemingly burying herself deeper into trouble the more she spoke. Siiri did not expect to discover that the Dhani had spread beyond the borders of Falyndar, nor that other people mingled enough with them that this outsider could speak of them so casually.

That did not matter to her, however.

Siiri could only remember the death of her beloved aunt whenever the name of the race of her serpentine killers were mentioned, and every time that happened, she wanted to kill a snake. With no snake or Dhani in sight, she would settle for killing anything associated with.

And right now, the poor Chaktawe girl seemed to be it.

"Do you know what we do to those who are friends with those snakes around here?" Siiri asked. Her voice was low and almost growling, and the dagger she held was biting deeper and deeper into the skin of the girl's cheek. It had already drawn a bit of blood, in fact - a superficial cut but painful nonetheless - and only her firm and solid grip was preventing the girl from recoiling away from the kiss of her weapon.

"How would you like to die, deyhan?"

It did not even occur to her that the girl might not know that it was taboo, for strangers at least, to ever speak of Dhani the way she did. Not if they wanted the locals to grow less suspicious of them. And now, because of it, the girl was close to being executed in the middle of the market unless someone came to her aid. From the look among their faces, not one among the other Myrians would come to assist her.

But surprisingly, one did.

Siiri whirled to look for the one who spoke, though it took her a while to find her, due both to the other Myrian's smaller stature and her own tunnel vision. As she did, she absorbed the words thrown at her. They did not help ease her mood any.

"You're a slaver?" she asked, almost spitting out the question in her distaste.

Not many Myrians keep slaves for their peers saw it as a sign of laziness, and thus, weakness, though a few clans did capture them to be sold either to another clan or to foreigners who desired them. Needless to say, most slaves prefer the latter fate, and this is usually what would befall them unless they happened to be brought into the city before or during a festival, in which case they ended up being sacrificed and gracing the table of the ones that bought them - as a meal.

Slavery was not a popular practice among the Myrians, but it could not be avoided. When one had a surplus of meat from a bountiful hunt, it seemed a waste to kill captives and leave their bodies to rot. Some enterprising Myrians saw this as an opportunity to earn income on the side by selling off their live captures - the market for them outside Taloba was strong, especially in Riverfall, a city which seemed to buy female slaves by the bulk for some reason.

Siiri, however, was not a proponent to what she considered to be a foul practice. Still, she could not deny from her fellow Myrian her capture, and regardless of what the other woman's intention for the Chaktawe were, it was really none of her concern.

"Do you always let your goats out of their pen?" she asked in irritation. She did not want to be handling a slave. Grudgingly, she released her hold on the Chaktawe. "Next time I see her without you near, I'll cut out her tongue and break her legs just to make sure she learns to keep silent and stay put in one place. You can then take up your complaints about any lost profit with Misha of the Jagged Blade."

With a shove, Siiri sent the poor Chaktawe girl stumbling towards her handler.

by **Carsten** on December 12th, 2011, 5:18 pm

Carsten almost shook his head when he heard how the Chaktawe tried to talk her way out of the mess she was in. She was clearly clueless as to how the Myrian society worked. She admitted to associating with a Dhani! Did she have a death wish, or was she just ignorant? The latter was most likely, Carsten thought. He could see how Siiri was reacting to the news; she was ready to kill the girl. Should he step in? It was not his place, but that did not matter. Would the other Myrians kill him for attempting to mediate the conflict? He was not certain. Why was this done in public, anyway? It would be easier for Siiri or another Myrian to simply drag her into an empty room and interrogate her there. But perhaps they wanted it to be an example? Carsten looked around him, but saw only Revy and the Chaktawe as the only outsiders there. He had no doubt there were more of them, but none around them. That meant the only person that might learn a lesson would be Carsten and Revy, and he doubted Revy would change much even if they did kill the Chaktawe. As for himself; he was always careful.

Just before Carsten was certain that Siiri would slit the Chaktawe’s throat, and he was thinking of moving forward to mediate the situation, a new Myrian pushed through the crowd. Another player enters the game. Carsten thought, and put his arms in a cross over his chest as he observed. He had not even thought of how slavery was perceived in Taloba, but it would not surprise him if it was common. Still, Siiri’s reaction was more aggressive than he thought was normal. She clearly still wanted to kill the Chaktawe for her Dhani associations, but was there more? She struck Carsten as a woman that valued her independence and freedom, and she might very well be anti-slavery. He considered asking her, but for now he would just wait and see what happened.

OOCI'm sorry that I couldn't advance the plot, but I couldn't think of a rational reaction for Carsten would be in this situation.