Solo [Deepwater Hole] Blade Dancing

[Sybel]

50th Night of Fall, 512 AV

It’d been a wakeful evening at the Pearl Diver. A candle burned low, it’s smoldering wax spattering onto the stone floor. Sybel sprawled on her stomach with her head propped against one hand as she pored over several sheets of parchment. Leth’s translucent light leaked in from the window and gave the opalescent room an ethereal glow. Most of them were ledgers, just records of her expenses. Others were written exploits, her spidery script detailing at length various experiences. Sybel’s ocean eyes strained against the darkness to focus on the task at hand. The logical basis for future plans were past ventures. Therefore Sybel was analyzing what she’d need in the future if she intended on traveling to Zeltiva with the shifting of the Watchtower. Her body was restless. She’d spent most of the day cloistered indoors. It was an oddity for her to get stuck inside like that – normally she’d take any excuse for a short walk. However she’d slept in and then spent the greater part of the day looking over her paperwork. It was without much success. After the sun had set, she thought about grabbing a pint, but the idea of spending more of her hard won mizas made her slightly ill. The idea was to make more, not spend more. Most forms of entertainment would cost money and therefore she was at an impasse with herself. She tried to focus on what she was reading. The timestamp read ‘25th of Fall, 512 AV’ and began to detail her most recent purchase. Her newfound best friend lie gleaming across her bed, it’s keen double-edge glinting in the moonlight. It had been a long time since she had felt the comforting weight of a longsword strapped to her side. Though difficult, she’d managed to part with fifteen of her gold coins for the deadly item without getting sick. It was a facilitator – a means to an end. It was an investment she told herself and the thought was just as comforting as the blade. Again, she tried to hone in on her own familiar pattern of writing. It was a line and half down the page before she shoved the manuscript away in disgust. Just another frustration, another failure. She folded her arms against the floor and buried her face in the crevice between them. It was difficult but she forced her mind to blank completely, only allowing in her basest senses. As she breathed through her nose, she caught a stale, dank stench. It wasn’t her, was it? With horror she grabbed a dark lock of her hair and inhaled deeply. It was her. The last time she bathed hadn’t been that long ago… But her hair was very full and fine. It kept fragrances for long periods of time. She must have walked into a cobweb somewhere along the line. It was hard to tell with it being everywhere, all the time. It was a dark halo, wildly curly and completely untamed. More frustration. A thought forced itself on her. If she needed a bath, wanted some exercise and lusted for the outdoors... Why not all three? There was pool out in the wilder areas of Mura. The scenery was there to be taken advantage of, and it wouldn’t cost her a single copper. The idea grew more appealing with each passing second.

[Sybel]

Rising off the floor, she stretched languidly. Her white linen shirt hung loosely off her front, stained and dust covered. It was open to provide more ventilation and she deftly tied up its laces to regain a semblance of modesty. It would feel good to be clean she concluded, but not before working up a sweat. She grabbed the sword from the bed and slipped it into a scabbard before belting it to her waist. It was then just a matter of slipping on her boots and cloak, and she was ready to venture into the cool night. When she hit the street, she drew her cloak in more tightly. The frigid air was rife with her favorite scent: campfire. The smell ruminated from every chimney in town and when mingled with the temperature, the result was goose bumps. The sensation was pleasant but unwelcome. She’d be cold enough when she disrobed. There was certainly no need to rush that experience, she reflected. The streets were dead. The position of the moon put the time at roughly witching hour, so that was no surprise. Konti Island was just as beautiful at night as it was during the daytime, the same transparent glow emanating from all of its structures. The paths were cobbled and wound through rippling water-gardens and lush parks. Sybel hummed tunelessly as she walked, one hand idly fingering the pommel of her steel. It was a moderate distance to the Deepwater Hole, though the time passed swiftly. It was hard not to feel at ease amidst Mura’s meditative waters. The atmosphere allowed Sybel to lose herself as she traveled. Being out in the open air settled her listless mind. Her midnight adventure was beginning to pan out already. As she reached the far end of the pool, she couldn’t help but admire the bearing of the cliff face. The jagged rocks over-looked the mystic pond with solemnity, fringed with rich, green moss. Everything had a personality there on the Island it seemed. It would be a magical place to live. There were possibilities for Sybel to chew on, but she’d save those plots for another day. Her first objective was to work on her form. Her swordsmanship had become ungainly due to lack of practice. Just picking the blade up to examine it before purchase put a strain on her arm that shamed her. Once she’d been so agile, so adept. But after a particularly shameful night of gambling, she’d fettered away her Father’s sword. It was a memory best kept locked away. That same night she'd come to the conclusion that ale and dice were a loathsome combination. She shrugged her cloak off and inhaled the crisp air deeply, allowing it to invigorate her. It was a glorious sensation. Her hand went to the sword’s hilt, her fingers curling around it tenderly. She bit her lip. In one sinuous motion she drew her blade and held it aloft in the pastel light. Her expression was reverent. What gold could not buy you could always obtain with steel. It was the great equalizer. Her knees bent and with cat-like grace she flicked the blade across her front, leading with her open hand. Circling her invisible target like a predator, she crouched low. The blade spun, slashed wildly, arced up and down. It was hard work but she maintained her equilibrium as she danced. Her technique was almost that of a duelist, though it was impossible to have the same ability with a longsword as opposed to a rapier. As she moved in to strike she’d always lead with her left, two fingers trailing in front. They were meant to lead the enemy’s focus and to misdirect them. It had worked thus far. She hadn’t lost her hand yet. The training was difficult and after a few minutes of practice, a thin sheen of perspiration began to form. Her blouse began to cling in certain places, so she paused to unlace it as before. The air hit her moist flesh and caused her to shudder. The whole experience was becoming rather sensual and it would soon be time to actually bathe. She danced for a time, reveling in the physical exertion. It was wonderful to feel her dormant muscles working at last, though she’d certainly be sore the next day. As her little session reached it’s conclusion, she didn’t hold anything back. Her blade whirled, leaving little silver outlines trailing behind. All at once she rolled and sprang up, stabbing her would-be-opponent a final time before concluding her little show. Her chest heaved and her hair clung in dread-like clods to her shoulders and the back of her neck. Brushing it out would be unpleasant, and that was putting it mildly. From top to bottom she was exhausted. The bath was a good idea in retrospect. It was amusing to her that most people would cringe at the next phase of her plan. After all, she was in public. There were no strict guidelines on nudity there that she was aware of and it was quite late, so she wasn’t worried. If someone were to watch then let them watch. Her motivations were pure. Well, somewhat. The fabric peeled away from her skin as she removed her shirt, breeches and undergarments. It was a relief to be rid of it. Clothing was more of an annoyance than anything else, a necessity for polite society. Her body was lithe and golden but by no means was she flat. Her chest was relatively plump and her thighs muscled and full. Most of the time they attracted unwanted attention. When alone, she rather liked them. Being a woman was not a shortcoming. To her, it was a point of pride. Slowly she dipped into the icy lake, her skin prickling. Wading in was excruciating so she dove in sharply, the freezing temperature hitting her all at once.

[Sybel]

The contrast of the cold water on her warm, aching skin was almost painful. As she broke the rippling surface Sybel groaned, slicking the hair back from her face. She dove back under and swam for a bit as the Konti would, enjoying the organic feel of the place. It was amusing that despite the fact it took her most of her young life before she’d even seen a large body of water that she could swim like a Charoda. Once she was finished with her fun, she scrubbed herself down, saving her hair for last. It didn’t take very long. On the whole, she felt rather accomplished for the night. Her scalp was on fire as she combed out the last tangle. It was with regret that she donned a fresh outfit, an emerald green tunic atop a pair of form fitting cotton pants. Being naked was fun, just not in the middle of a cold autumn night. It would have to be saved for the next time she decided to go skinny dipping, preferably in a warmer climate. It had been rather thrilling, stealing off in the middle of the night. The spontaneity allowed her to reflect more clearly on her goals. From a more moderate view than earlier, she still had more than enough in the realm of finance. It was right in thinking it wouldn't last forever, but there was no need to flog herself over it. A more productive approach would be to seek information on where she'd adventure next. There were multiple libraries in Mura to choose from. Maybe she'd even invite Naeya along. Her new friend was making a positive impression. Feeling more proactive, she began to collect her things. The morrow would bring a little extra hope. Once more she belted on her sword, swept into her cloak and began her journey back to the Inn.

[Cachet]

Sybel : Sybel SKILLS Longsword:2 Dancing:3 LORE Good way to strip away frustrations Deepwater hold: good for bathing Anything seem out of place? Any questions please feel free to contact me ASAP.