Noise and Shadows (Closed)

[Davros Velutina]

Davros' eyes widened into a manic stare as the spear nearly punctured the Dhani in the abdomen. Nearly! Davros gasped deeply, almost in shame as the figure batted his weapon away seemingly without effort. Retaliating from the parry, Davros spun the short staff in his hand three and half times, quickly and rapidly before bringing it to his side and neatly tucking it back into his scarf. His eyes never left the man he intended to kill, as he straightened his posture. Impossible! How could I have not noticed another being in my midst? The Symenestra ridiculed himself for being so careless. He could have easily ended me! He pursed his rant, abruptly. “Life is meaningless, when we take a life we take nothing of value. Death is for those who persue it.” He said the last word, peering at the Dhani. Davros didn't specifically have anything against the Dhani man before him. Its just that he became a very abrupt obstacle in his path that needed to be removed. Immediately. Had Vaxes been anything else but a Symenestra, the intervention would have been acted upon willfully going into a 2v1. When battle had begun for Davros, it was a task. Kill or be killed. A cold philosophy, but one fitting for a dog-eat-dog city like Sunberth.

[Wrenmae]

"So much effort for one little squabble. A pity, your talents would be better suited elsewhere." It wasn't that he'd watched the entire time, such indulgence would be a waste of his time. No, he'd been passing the alley when one man had drawn some sort of a club, swinging it at a Symenestra. From there, near total chaos had enveloped the small alley. Ethafael, Symenstras, and two other slinking humans had somehow cornered themselves into a full flung battle. The lead Symenestra fought with a spear, moving like all their kind seemed to...with a sort of fluid grace. In comparison, his opponent was a man with the odd shaped club. They both, despite the inherent grace in their movements, only swung with a modicum of ability. Sunberth had a habit of consuming the foolish, especially the foolish that stood out. No doubt the Crimson Edge could mold such...undisciplined creatures into something more worthy of these blood soaked streets. Of course, To Shroud, neither seemed to merit life. The Symenestra had made a mistake in standing out, a mistake of birth rather than of choice, but then...Sunberth never did much care. Here, difference was the difference between the victim of theft and of murder. More than once he'd seen the body of some strange bodied creature, strung out in a back alley and made an example of. Symenestra had reputations, dark ones, and most fathers were quick to bring a hatchet to bare rather than let one of the spiderfolk lie down near their daughter. "Enough," the murderer intervened, stepping between the battlers and holding both hands out, "You've both made your point...no need to impress the lady." He eyed the Ethafael, only briefly, his eyes lingering on her body before turning back to the fight at hand. To those in the immediate vicinity, a certain calming presence washed through their minds, puncturing their auras, seeping into their thoughts. Shroud flexed the muscle of Djed within himself easily, sending out a simple suggestion to calm and put away their weapons, to end the battle in much the same way as it no doubt began...suddenly, and without provocation. "I take it you're new to Sunberth," he looked to the Symenestras and the Eth with a raised eyebrow, "Otherwise you wouldn't be so quick to walk in alleys or be so brazen to your heritage. Rather than waste your blood on minor contrivances, what say we retire to a more...diplomatic locale." He smiled, easy, charming, the kind of smile Wrenmae would have...only he might mean it. "I represent an organization that may have use for all that...aggression, but should bloodlust or pointless honor demand you continue, don't let me delay." He stepped away from them, winking at the female, and stepping out of the alley. Whether they followed or not was irrelevant. Choosing to fight would mean they weren't worth the effort anyways, and following would almost certainly ensure the beginnings of greatness. Shroud grinned to himself, passing out among the people and toward a small tavern, it felt good to have a place here...even a temporary one.

[Chamaeleon]

The woman who seemed to have caused the whole problem was currently standing there trying not to.gape too much. There was only so much randomness she could take afterall, and yet another character dropping into the fray was pushing her limit.

Syliras? What a stuffy little boring city. Sunberth had spunk.

Yet even as this flashed through her mind, her body was moving with fluid grace towards the impressively unimpressive trio of spiders and man. So squishable the spiders seemed, and so inherently graceful.

This whole thing had to end.

"Play nicely now," she said as she sidled up between the Symenestra and the man as much as she could without poking herself with the sharp end of a stick. "And to my wise Symenestra brother, death is merely the means to a new life. I would know."

Her voice could have dipped towards the range of menace, or laughter, or sadness. She smiled still though, a happy reminder of the sunlight in the alley.

And then came yet another. Charmingly walking forth, hypocritical in his own boldness, but admirable in face and bearing. His gaze brought colour to the pallour of Chamaeleon's face and she tried not to smile. Keeping her face straight at this point was going to be a problem with the way this night was progressing. It came to be even more surprising when she finally noted the presence of a man on his haunches in the darkness, her Symenestran eyes pinpointing him clearly now that the craziness seemed to have slowed down a bit.

It disappointed her that she was the only female, but when she looked at the newcomer with his handsome face, she didn't mind so much. His presence alone was so very calming. Hopefully the men could calm down as well and breathe.

"You people certainly know how to say 'hello' in Sunberth, don't you?" She muttered to the group at large. Those honeyed words had her snagged, truly, but she didn't want to leave these males here to eke out their respect in the darkness of an alley with senseless fighting without a means to be bandaged. She would follow if they did, like a little lamb realising her dam had left with the herd. And if she really did need it, she had her Lash to protect her, and her claws and fangs.

Yet if they went, she would cling to the human's ankles as though craving his sunlight in the moonlight world.

Was she really that fickle?

[Roka]

Roka stood his mind at ease, his body loose. The calm that surrounded him seemed not alarming. His hood still shrouded his face from the others and he wasn't sure if still were aware that he was merely inches from them and had witnessed the entire tirade of masculine affirmation. He wondered if the time came how he would react to a threat such as that. In any case they had drawn quite a crowd, and he weaved his way through it toward the girl.

He looked to the young female, a gentle looking soul. He moved to her steed, stroking its neck in comfort, and then looked to her. He knew horses were easily spooked and was sure the stress of the city had gotten to it.

"Your horse is uneasy, you should let him rest, come we will follow this man, and find leisure." He spoke quietly, unsure of himself still amongst these many different races. His caution was well deserved and he wore it upon his face. His eyes remained cast elsewhere, he dare not look upon her or the others, for he knew not of their intentions, and his only favoring attribute would be the ability to quickly slip away, if giving the chance.

This city consumed all who fell fool to its games, and were too quick to act. Instead he tried to act upon his gut and the senses born to him. Still a woman in need, even if only seeming so, was something difficult for him to pass by without a word. A male of nearly any species would feel the same, or so he reasoned.

[Vaxes Darlo]

"Let it not bother you. You dropped your guard only once, bladesman."

He was astounded more by the Symenestra's words, rather than his reaction to his intervention. Never before has such a blatant disregard for life been uttered into his ears. "What is your name?" The holder of such a spear holds interest to me."

Vaxes motioned the symenestra to follow, completely ignoring the club wielding brute that stood in the alleyway, speechless. His sheer misjudgement of the situation could have caused his death twice. Vaxes had already made his decision to follow the murderer to see this organization of which he spoke. He nuzzled his daggers back into the sash on his waste and leaped onto the wall with movement more akin to a cat than spider. He looked back at the symenestra still standing in the alleyway, still brooding on what had just transpired. He motioned once again for him to follow and continued on his way.

"I know that crest. I've seen it before. Why is it in his possession?"

[Davros Velutina]

"You've both made your point...no need to impress the lady." Davros tilted his head in thoughtful suspicion before replying. "What just happened wasn't for the impression of another. He attacked and I reacted. I drew no reason for this, Dhani" Davros said looking to the brute, then back to the newly entered man. "to attack me. Even with his sudden and blind attack, I still had nothing against him or obviously even questioned his motive. At that point, he simply became an obstacle. One that needed to be removed as quickly as possible. Was nothing personal. I'd kill him and return to the previous conversation." Davros played on the man's words about redirecting their energies to an organization, then thought about Blint and the Guild. He'd have to kill his contractor to leave the guild, but he didn't care. It would be quite entertaining to make the boss a deader. He listened to the other Symenestra warrior, and nodded at the first response in respect, but hesitated to answer the second question. He glared at the man first, then said; "My father once told me, the greatest Spy he ever knew, lost his anonymity at his daughter's wedding by showing and introducing himself to the enemy without knowing it....two weeks later he was found dead in his safehouse." Davros couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he figured he could somewhat trust him. Besides, he was a Symenestra also. Pure-blood by the looks of it. "I am Davros Velutina, son of Dalor and Aroya Velutina." He said before pushing himself out of the alley to follow the stranger.

[Vaxes Darlo]

Delighted by the introduction, Vaxes retorted with a snide remark, followed by his own introduction. "Interesting, bladesman." Vaxes grinned while still not allowing Davros to see his full face as he rounded the corner, heading toward the tavern. "One usually isn't so eager to reveal themselves as one who operates behind the shadow, although it wasn't hard to infer. Vaxes Darlo, son of Vexes and Sudani Darlo."


Vaxes stopped and paused around the corner and turned his head toward the ground. A small droplet of venom dropped from his mouth and onto the ground. He hadn't fed in a day and a half and he was starting to notice.

"Come Davros. We have a business to attend."

[Wrenmae]

The Pig's Foot was the usual haunt of the Crimson Edge, and entering it felt like familiarity. The stains were the same, the patrons, not dissimilar, and the same bartender watched the handsome man warily as he pushed open the door grandly, striding inside. He tossed a wink first to the bartender, a man he had manipulated in the beginning of winter for a free drink. That was some time ago, but Shroud knew when to pick his battles. It was an act of charity unusual of the giant, and he hadn't tried to force his hand since. Tactics and the principle of it all. Instead he took a seat in the center of the room, allowing a table with enough seats for his guests to get comfortable. He lounged, draping one arm back over the top of the chair and crossing one leg over the other. Better with the Crimson Edge than the competitors, and even if the lot of them weren't of use, it helped to get the interest in Sunberth flowing the right direction. As they entered the bar, one by one, the Symenestras drawing the most suspicious gazes, Shroud grinned and waved his free arm over the table. "I'd offer you a drink," he said, glancing back at the bartender, "But you're not in Syliras...Sunberth offers rewards to the accomplished and worthy." He leaned forward on the table, transfixing each in turn gravely before pulling back again. "I represent an organization called the Crimson Edge, a collection of men and women not afraid to dirty their hands in order to take a little power in this anarchic city. While open to applications, we try to weed the worthy from the unworthy before the trials really begin...so if you have a story to tell or some claim to impress me, I invite you to try it on for size." He leaned back again, both hands behind his head. "Go on gentlemen," he nodded to Chamelean, "Lady," "I'm all ears."

[Chamaeleon]

Chamaeleon found herself smiling at the man who decided to comfort her pony, the only one who seemed to actually be human in this dark time. The only one who truly acted human.

She nodded to him and they followed the newcomer, leading the uncomfortable beast patiently, until they came upon a building. Chamaeleon had never been to a bar before in her life, or what memories she had of living before. The sounds overwhelmed her, as did the scents, and the flavour caused her fangs to react uncomfortably. She felt hungry, and yet she wasn't hungry at the same time. She didn't comment upon it as she sland those who accompanied her sat, taking the seat next to the new gentleman.

A long, ebony eyebrow lifted at his queries. Her mouth curved in a smile, responding to his surprisingly civilised tone. She could be much, much more cheery when she was in the company of polite people.

" Do you not have a name, or a story?" She asked him. "My own is Chamaeleon, with no last name, and my story has yet to properly begin, so to speak." She would have blatantly decieved him, and the others, with tales of the life she lived before she took to Syna and her realm, but it was a past she didn't fully know, and she didn't have it in her to truly lie. The fancy was a passing one, useless currently. "I am from Syliras... I can bandage wounds."

Her eyes looked upon the others, wondering what they would add, how they would respond. Her smile didn't die.

[Roka]

Roka seated himself at the table among the others, it was uncomfortable. He was seated beside the female at the edge of the splintered tabletop. He felt close to sinking into his seat, his hands clasps neatly in his lap. He watched as the human spoke, prodding them to speak, to express themselves. He swallowed hard unsure of what he could possibly say about himself.

In truth the bar made him feel even more unsettled, it was only weeks before that he had sipped his first drink in this establishment and been involved in a rather unsightly bar fight. Possibly this was the kind of things that would be accepted into a group called "Crimson Edge". Legal and illegal were word that meant little to him, but carnage wasn't something he did without good motive.

When the dark haired woman finally spoke up, he tilted his head to face her. He observed her lips as she formed her chosen words. It bothered him that since the time of the storm in Sunberth he seemed to find himself drawn to woman, beautiful, but also what he perceived as dangerous woman. To become attached seemed like a very dangerous thing.

'Chamaeleon?' An odd name, but he was not one to judge on names he supposed. 'No last name?' that's something they had in common. Roka's father had never indulged him enough to offer him such a fancy as a last name of his very own. He huffed, was it his turn to speak up?

Roka cleared his throat stretching his back in the seat. "Roka...My name is Roka." he looked Wrenmae in the eye as he spoke, and then turned away. "I'm a decent hunter, fair at removing myself from unwanted situations, and well enough at not being seen." This was the extent of the information he could answer, and waited for eyes to continue past him.