What Will Really Was (Edreina)

by **Razkar** on July 8th, 2013, 2:41 am

He didn't try to beg, but Razkar supposed he didn't have the chance. The human managed to get one paling hand around the bottom step, muscles tensing to drag himself towards the light-

-before his vision shuddered. Some fresh impact made the light dull... then... brighter... brighter... and his neck felt warm and there was no pain...

Razkar's face was a mask of disgust as he wiped his kukri clean on the back of the human's shirt, slashed throat bleeding out onto the floorboard and all he could think of was what a mess it all was. And on her boat-

Her.

She was awake when he returned, but barely. Her eyes were unfocused as he knelt next to her, stroking her arm, eyes pained and he even seemed to be blinking less, as if to do so would mean that she would-

Stop. Stop thinking like that, or you'll help it happen. You've handled wounds like this before, so handle this one.

Then life burst its way back into Edreina, whimpering and weak but there, defiant. Razkar could have sobbed with relief, clutching her shoulder tighter... until he heard exactly what he was shedding.

Strange. Barely a year among the barbarians and he was already thinking like some bandit. He heard the words that he spoke and part of him recoiled; that part of him that always sneered at those few malcontents and degenerates among his own people that thieved or robbed.

And look at us now...

"Knights?!" Razkar choked out, like she'd just insulted him. "Thinks Knights would help Myrian who comes with wounded female in arms?! They would not-Edri!"

She lurched upright and Razkar nearly fell over as he lunged towards her, holding her shoulders out of instinct-

-and making her nearly scream in agony. He saw now how serious the wound was, the way her arm hung loosely, swinging, not responding to her... paling...

He screwed his eyes shut as an image of Edreina flickered across it, one arm amputated, as he had seen done before to prevent the rot from taking the whole body. Blank-eyed and her soul ripped out along with her limb... staring at him... into him...

"C'mon... I can get up if you help me."

Sweat pouring down her bloody body. She could not more walk up those stairs than she could swim the Suvan... and the Myrian just stared at her, eyes unfocused, mouth opening and closing, some war going on in his mind...

This is more than you, now. If a healer - a real healer - doesn't attend to her, she might lose the arm. Or worse.

"... no." Edreina had just enough time to look shocked before the Myrian slid to her side and draped her good arm over his shoulders. "I carry you, and we find petching knights."

He straightened his bent knees and she was so light under him, whimpering softly as the very movement caused her pain. But as they walked to the stairs, no drips or drops spattered from the dressing, kindling some faint hope in the Myrian.

Then they got to the steps, and stopped.

Edreina turned to her friend, question in her fading eyes, and his free hand gripped her chin. Hard. When he was certain her had her keen attention, he spoke.

"Edri... if knight ask... men came to rob. Came to ship to rob you, and I came. I kill men who would rob us. Not mention they know me." The twisting of reality and shifting of the truth seemed to confuse her, repel her, but Razkar just squeezed a might tighter. "Edri... please... help me."

No time for her reply, or argument. They took the steps with her grunting and gasping and Razkar shutting down anything in him that could slow them down. The moment they hit the deck, bathed in sunlight and exposed to all, he could hear the cries and murmurs of the sailors, fingers pointing and even weapons being reached for.

"Help!" Razkar bellowed at all and sundry, uncaring now if that word was so strange coming from his race's mouth. He didn't know where to find a healer, or a knight, and he needed others to do that. He needed their attention. "Help! Healer! Where is healer?! Where are knights?"

Something wet and warm splashed on his bare foot. The dressing was soaked to saturation. They didn't have much time.

by **Edreina** on July 8th, 2013, 3:42 am

"... no. I carry you, and we find petching knights."

There was a sort of hesitant fear in her friend's eyes. Surely the knights wouldn't stop them, wouldn't hurt him or apprehend him once they saw how he had helped her? How he had saved her. How he stabbed you... Too tired to beat back the thought, Edreina simply glared out at nothing, knowing that it had been necessary.

As he lifted her, the urge to scream was fought as Edreina bit down on her lip. Despite the effort, a whimper escaped. And then another. Each time he took a step, a shot of pain lanced through her shoulder until she was simply quivering, delirious and clouded by the intensity of it all. When he stopped at the deck, Edreina turned to look at him slowly, wondering why.

"Edri... if knight ask... men came to rob. Came to ship to rob you, and I came. I kill men who would rob us. Not mention they know me."

She would have to lie? But why? Lying was repulsive and hard and no one seemed to believe her when she did it. If she lied, he would only get in more trouble, right? Petch! Why would he be getting in trouble, anyway? What had Razkar been doing that would get him in trouble, anyway?

"Edri... please... help me."

Help him... It was all that she could do. When someone asked for help, she would always do anything in her power to assist. It was her way. She sighed quietly and then nodded, thought the motion made her head swim. If it meant that much to her friend, she would do it.

Everything was fading again, she heard Razkar's shout, she felt it, but it seemed so far away. Gods it hurt. Everything hurt so damn bad. It wasn't just her shoulder anymore. The weaker she got, the more aware of each pain she became: her jaw, the back of her head, even her throat. They all became hot, burning lights in her darkening world.

She blinked once... perhaps it was a bit longer than a blink... but when she opened her eyes again, two knights were in front of them, speaking in mumbles with Razkar who was mumbling too. Why would he mumble like that? And then they were moving towards the city at a clip that hurt Edreina, made her want to curl up and cry until her tears ran out. How odd; how unlike the normally-grinning Svefra. She just wanted to rest her eyes, just for a-

No!

She shook herself roughly, no more than a back and forth of her head to anyone else, attempting to banish the bleariness. No! She could not give up! Not even for a minute. If she gave up, Razkar would blame himself. He did not deserve that. Especially not after all he had done for her. Hell. It was the least she could do, living through this.

She grit her teeth. What doesn't kill you...

by **Razkar** on July 8th, 2013, 4:19 am

"Why don't you tell us what really happened?"

Razkar didn't even know where they were. So much had been packed into so few chimes, not just movement and blurring streets but stress, anger, guilt, fear, all those things he'd tried so hard to suppress. The Myrian looked up from his seat next to her bed and into the cold, steadfast eyes of the younger knight.

Who looked much like the one flanking him, just with more lines on his face. In matching plate armor and chainmail hoods, they could have been brothers, even father and son. Part of their mind-craft, he mused idly, that... uniform intimidation.

"I tell what happened." Goddess, was that his voice? So hushed and almost... broken? One glance at his hand, still clutching Edreina's, told him the answer. "I was getting food. I come back to boat, where I live, and men were there. They had woman. They said they take our things, and stab her-"

"Wasn't a knife wound in her shoulder." The younger said, speaking for the first time in a voice impossibly deep and knowing. "Too big. More like a gladius."

"They take my sword in fight." The lies spilled from his lips and he was pausing now, making sure they followed each other, reassured by that faint conviction that they didn't know the truth. They merely suspected. "Try to kill her, but she moved. I kill man who stabbed her."

"Ekvan."

The word was intended to provoke some reaction, Razkar was sure, but the Myrian just glanced down... which was a reaction. He saw shuffling feet and heard armor plates grind and shift. A healer bustled around the other side of the bed... he watched her wash the ugly wound on the sleeping girl...

You did this. Like the whale on the boat. Now it's back again.

"Who?"

"Look, I'm growing weary of this, Myrian." And didn't that last word sound so much like 'savage'? "We know who Ekvan is. We've had his name and his appearance linked to numerous incidents of violence in and around our city. He's scum, a killer, but rarely, if ever, a thief. I don't believe for one tick that he came to that boat just to rob-"

"Well, he did!"

That came out almost as a snarl, so fierce and hoarse that the healer paused and the younger knight's hand shifted to his weapon. Razkar's fist clenched... then loosened... no... not the way to handle this...

"They came to rob." He said again. "To... steal from me. From us."

He looked up, and black and merciless and savage as Ser Howlan knew those eyes to be, there was oddly little lie in them. The savage spoke the truth... or a breed of it. He inhaled deeply, looking down his nose at the Myrian like some scrap of dog dung.

"You were lucky my squire and I were on the dock patrolling. Luckier still that we rushed her here." Once again, no actual name or location, but what did it matter? Stone walls and guards at the gate. Some bastion of the knights, he was sure, of which they had many. "But your lucky is running out, Myrian."

He leaned forward as close as he dared, but Razkar saw no fear on his face. Just a cold certainty and a glimmer of dark satisfaction.

"When she wakes, and her lies don't match yours, we'll know the truth. And you will know justice."

Razkar knew he was being baited; goaded, even, into reaching for a weapon, lashing out, spitting out some savagery and giving them the excuse they'd need to throw him in the Tank. But instead they just engaged in that glowering game, until the Myrian settled back in his chair, and seemed to... sag.

"We were attacked. We are victim. She is victim."

"We'll see. Erik, stay with them. I won't be far."

"Yes, Ser."

The knight left and the squire stayed, propped up in one corner like a metal statue, eyes fixed on the Myrian and a hand on the hilt of his sword. Razkar ignored him, eyes now focused on his friend. By the harsh sunlight streaming through the window he could see every inch of the harm wreaked upon her body. By Ekvan and his sadism... by himself and his ruthlessness...

"We should be able to save the arm."

Razkar blinked and looked up, seeing the male healer look down at him with a tentative smile.

"You were right to stop the bleeding, but even more right to bring her here. We can treat and cauterize the wound, stitch it up. She won't have the same strength for some time, but... she will be whole."

Razkar of the Shorn Skulls bowed his head in sincere thanks, and his words matched the countenance.

"My thanks, healer."

"I did it for her, Myrian. Remember that."

With that he left, leaving just the three of them. Silence reigned. The squire was not about to speak, but just watched the strange, almost blasphemous sight: a Myrian stripped of all his savage bravado, holding the hand of a pale and sleeping maiden, stroking her hair and whispering...

He strained his ears... but heard only a low, guttural language he did not understand.

"I did not lie, Edri," Razkar whispered, clasping her hand in both of his own, forehead resting on all three, "They would have stolen you from me..."

by **Edreina** on July 8th, 2013, 5:25 am

Upon the gentle urgings of the healer, Edreina had finally allowed herself to slip into a deep yet fitful sleep. Through it, she felt tugging, pulling, burning, scratching, and a myriad of other sensations without names. And when that was finally over, it was the whispering. The damned whispering that seemed to be trying to drag her from sleep. But, she did not want to wake! Sleeping was a relief after the tumultuous bells... gods it felt like days... that had proceeded this.

But, as all good things, her sleep had to end. Every minute the darkness became a touch more flesh-colored, limbs began to appear on the edge of her consciousness. She felt her fingers twitch lightly, by they were contained, trapped by something warm. Her other hand, she could not feel it.

SHYKE! SHE COULDN'T FEEL IT!

Edreina woke with a gasp, flying into a sitting position in a flurry of burnished hair and frightened blue eyes. She looked to her arm, her injured arm, and saw it was still, thankfully, attached. The healer must have just numbed it. Swallowing hard, heart in her ears, bright blue eyes slowly went from wrist, to elbow, and then to her- shoulder? It looked more like a puffy mass of inflammation, stitches, and a smeared poultice. Gods that was gonna be an ugly scar.

Suddenly, Edreina felt a giggle bubble up. A scar? That's what she was worried about? Chimes - bells? - ago, she had been worried about dying from the blood loss, and now she had only to worry about a scar. Oh it made her giddy! It made her-

The pressure on her other hand.

She spun - wow, the dizziness was still certainly there - and found the warm brown eyes of Razkar staring at her incredulously. He's alive! And then, a bit more sanely, He's safe! In the heat of the moment, Edreina did not care about their promises to each other, just that they were both safe, both alive. She lurched forward and pressed her lips against his, a short, warm kiss that managed to convey all of her joy, her gratitude, all of her relief in a single, blistering instant. And then she retreated, lips forming a small o beneath burning cheeks as she realized what she did. Well that makes three...

Lucky for her, the awkward moment was snatched away as another figure made himself known by stepping into her line of sight. A knight. Well, maybe that made the moment a bit more awkward.

"Good to see you're alright, Miss Whitewave." The man's voice was tense, businesslike. Edreina did not like that at all. If you're going to offer someone a comfort, it should be from the heart, not a sense of duty. "If you're able, I need you to tell me what happened. All of what happened."

A frown creased her brow. Why was he in such a hurry to know this? Might as well start from the beginning.

There are three rules to lying, Surai had been a child when he taught her this. One, don't hesitate. Two, don't look to your partner in crime for answers. And three, make it believable. If you can put enough truth into the lie for you to believe it, someone else will.

"I was... cleaning Navis, my foxling, when three men boarded my ship. They were really big, but the one in the middle seemed to be in charge. He... had a beard," Edreina shuddered at the memory of it tangling with her hair. Ok... Less details, more timeline. You don't want to make them think that you're covering your - Razkar's - ass. "The one in the middle wanted to know where Razkar kept his Mizas, his weapons... They seemed to be really intent on his gladius. When I said that I didn't know, but that he would be back soon, they moved closer. He kept asking, kept insisting that I must know..." Edreina frowned and put a hand to her jaw, massaging where Ekvan had hit her. "When I said I didn't know, he hit me, and took me below deck. They tried to use me as a bargaining chip, to get to Raz," the hate in her voice was real, laced with a light tremble as she relived those moments of fear. "But then everything happened so fast! One of the goons took Raz's gladius and went for him, but they missed and hit me..." She flinched, remembering the burning moment where everything seemed to fade. "I... I don't remember the rest... It hurt, so bad." The trembling intensified as she put her uninjured hand over her mouth, feeling real tears spring to her eyes as she realized how close of a call it had been. She could have died.

"Right." The knight didn't seem to be affected other than a gentle frown of disappointment that pulled at his lips. Why would he be disappointed? Edreina also got the feeling that he did not believe her. Not one bit. Damn, and I thought I did so well... At least he had no proof to the contrary. "Well, I'm sorry to have troubled you." He sighed and took a step back, towards the door. He probably had a superior somewhere to answer to. "Ma'am... Myrian."

The way he said it actually pissed Edreina off. Who was this guy to speak with such open hatred about a man he did not know? A man who had just finished saving her life. He could have let her die... Gods, she was a liability to him. She hated the fact that people could use their friendship against one another. Why the petch did people have to be so rotten?

Suddenly feeling depleted again, Edreina closed her eyes, pulling her knees up to her chest so that she could be more comfortable. With a groan, she looked to Razkar again, smiling apologetically. "Not too bad, eh?" The wording was simple enough that anyone dropping eaves would think her to be speaking of her injuries. Only Raz would know she was apologizing for her horrible attempts at lying.

by **Razkar** on July 8th, 2013, 11:22 am

Only the echo of the voices hinted that what he was in a dream; otherwise it was as real and warm and vibrant as it had been before. And as awful.

"I need fresh water, here."

"Gauze! More gauze!"

"No, not that root, this one! For the rot!"

A pair of healers were hovering over the prone, twisting figure on the bed, churning up the sheets as the grey-clad men ran their hands over her shoulder. A couple of novices were alternately holding her steady and fetching supplies, but the older men worked with a stoic dedication that impressed the savage watching.

Watching from behind guards, too.

"Careful, Myrian..."

One of the two armored columns blocking his way put a hand up, not quite resting it on his chest. Younger than his partner, they'd bought Razkar and the female here, carried her up to this room, the Myrian following on their heels every step of the way, face ugly with pallor and worry...

And then he'd watched them go to work. But it was improving, he realized with an oh-so-fragile hope. The wound was becoming clearer, paler, the bleeding had slowed and now herbs and philtered mush from them was being pressed around the wound. He recognized the routine, they were-

"We have to take the arm."

The world became cold, then Razkar realized it was him, a cold spike of agony impaled through him like a spear. He gasped in shock and heard Edreina moan, he surged forward-

-armored gauntlets gripped him, impossibly strong.

No, no, no, this wasn't how it was! Never how it-

"Stay back, let them work!"

"Not take arm! Please, please not-"

"They have to."

A hand saw. Gleaming and jagged and just dull enough to turn Razkar's blood to ice. The novice bore down on the helpless female as the saw was pressed to her skin and Razkar thrashed, flailed, screamed, begged.

Just as the first push against pale flesh was made-

-and her gasp slapped his mind back to reality.

The nightmare shattered and reality replaced it, Myrian's head jerking up from sleep, hands flying to his weapons out of instinct. But then he saw his friend jerking upwards, sitting, eyes wide and staring, face stunned.

Reality asserted itself. The facts rushed through his mind... and before he could even breath out a blessing to Myri, she lurched towards him.

"Edri, I-"

His vision became a fast-moving blur of freckles and lank red hair and then soft, wet lips were pressed to his again. What was that now, the third time? It felt like it, and even through his shock the Myrian was surprised at how... familiar, her taste was becoming to him. But now all he tasted was a desperate, joyous relief that had a tang all of its own.

Just before he responded in kind, she was the better soul and broke it away.

Never easy to keep your vows with this female around...

Then that bloody barbarian Erik had to ruin the moment, but that was his purpose in life, apparently. Razkar listened to the back and forth between the Svefra and the human, wisely keeping his eyes fixed on his friend, look of relief etched on his face.

She stumbled only once: saying that she was wounded when they aimed for him and she was hit instead; his lie was that they'd aimed for her deliberately. But... it was good enough, and he kept his gaze on her the whole while.

Erik bristled. He wasn't satisfied, and as an old soldier, Razkar knew his discomfort stemmed more from the knowledge he'd have to suffer his commander's displeasure from him not being satisfied, too. But that wasn't his petching problem, and with a short and borderline-insulting farewell, the boy left.

"Not too bad, eh?"

Razkar smiled at her, giddy with relief and feeling all the tension and adrenaline drain out of him, leaving a husk of exhaustion instead. He glanced over and ran his thumb over that still-livid and puffy scar, twists of black stitching still poking out of it.

He nodded slowly, as if approving.

"See? Now you look like a real warrior. Scars and all."

There was a beat. No more than a beat, but beats can go on for a very long time, between the right people. He searched her eyes and the sheer, stunned... thankfulness at her survival overrode everything else. Razkar leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers again, drinking in her taste and her own surprise at still being alive... then broke it off and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I am sorry for causing pain. Causing trouble. Think might be smart to get room somewhere else. Can't go through this again..."

by **Edreina** on July 8th, 2013, 5:51 pm

Edreina's heart did an odd sort of fluttering when Razkar smiled. Perhaps it was just blood-loss... or exhaustion... But then again, Razkar could look really charming when he wanted to, filed teeth and all. A part of Edreina wondered why others were unable to see that, why their eyes stopped at the scars and the tattoos instead of giving the man inside a chance to shine through. Sure, that man reveled in blood and war, but he also had a quick wit and a good heart. A damn shame that only a few were privy to the man that really was Razkar of the Shorn Skulls.

And then nearly all semblance of civilized thought was swept aside as his thumb traced her would-be scar. The wound he inflicted. Her breath hitched for an instant, and a gentle tremble ran down her spine to settle just south of her navel. Sure, there was little to no feeling in that entire region of her body right now, but the sight of it... the sight of Razkar touching her in any way other than the blows they exchanged as he taught her... it was maddening. That and the fact that she knew her collarbones to be a bit of a hot-spot, what this would really feel like... it took every ounce of will power to keep her from lunging forward and-

"See? Now you look like a real warrior. Scars and all."

The smile that split her face competed with the blush that reddened it for attention. "Scars, tatts, before long, I'll look positively Myrian," she muttered with a ornery smirk. As if a willowy woman with honeyed skin and a shock of burnished hair could ever pass for one of the dusky-toned people of Falyndar. Edreina thought, for a moment, that she had been ignored. For her friend simply sat there, brown searching blue with a roil of emotions the Svefra could not fathom.

And then she suddenly found herself kissing the Myrian again. In an instant that seemed to drag on into eternity, they melted together. A flurry of emotions passed between the two: fear, relief, regret, gratitude, joy, surprise... Thought their lips were locked into place, the pressure, the heat, it told everything. Where words failed, touch spoke volumes.

And then it was over, though neither of them pulled away completely. Edreina became aware of the rest of her her body slowly: first how her hand had acted of its own accord, reaching up to knot itself in his loose hair, then how she had rolled onto her side, had strained towards him as far as the bed would allow.

Overall, her lack of control was embarrassing.

Despite the heat in her cheeks, Edreina made no move to change her position, thumb stroking a lock of his inky hair. As he spoke, Edreina found herself shaking her head. "Raz... please don't apologize. There is no need." Edreina always had a knack for finding trouble, and usually she could get herself out of it. But as she got older, the trouble seemed to get worse and worse. Especially since she had left the Anchorage... Perhaps she should-

No! No adventure worthy of telling went easily. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

With a quiet growl, more to herself than anything else, Edreina pushed against Razkar's forehead just a bit, a gesture akin to bumping his shoulder had they been standing any other way. Finally, she opened her eyes, blue eyes bright and piercing as she spoke, hoping to impress the honesty of her words. "Raz, the 'grotto is yours as long as you need it. Don't worry about the trouble you bring..." she smiled, eyes crinkling. "Makes a better story in the end, anyway."

"Unless..." she pulled away, biting her lip to hide her grin, "You worry about being jumped by a cripple in the middle of the night." Two kisses in one day. Two! In one day they had equaled the rest of their time spent together. If they continued like this, one day, something would have to give, one way or another.

by **Razkar** on July 9th, 2013, 2:32 am

Gods, it was so tempting. She was so tempting. Azure eyes like the Suvan she was born on, boring into his black orbs like light through shadow. Strange, pale body with those brown blotches she called "freckles". Oddly smooth, though, despite their bumpy appearance.

He was noticing all of this now, even as he listened to her words. It was always there, logged away but always accepted rather than... lingered on. But today he had come so close, so perilously close...

And now he was noticing. He groaned inwardly as if in pain. It wasn't that she was tempting, he realized: it was that he was allowing her to tempt him.

Anyone coming through that door would have seen two people in love. It would have appeared so obviously, so clear and unambiguous. The body language, the way they looked at each other, held each other's hands... but a wiser head with keener eyes would have seen that invisible barrier between them, even in that intimacy.

Weakening... but still there.

Razkar sighed and chuckled, shaking his head, almost... incredulous.

"Life is never easy," he said slowly, happy that his Common was increasing day by day, almost to a level of fluency. "Not... convenient, yes? But my life is dangerous. What I do... dangerous. For me, but that is choice I make. For you?"

A haunted, hunted look overtook his features, momentarily surprising the Svefra. Few people got to see the man beneath the warrior visage, true; even fewer saw him bought to his knees by his concern for those he... cared for.

Yes. Those words. 'Cared for'. Try to keep it that way.

Razkar opened his mouth again but then the bolts and latched scraped and thundered open. The Myrian frowned, realizing that they'd actually locked them inside when they were gone. He never even heard the bolt ram home!

Ser Howlan and Erik stepped in, one by one, mass of their armor broadening them so they eclipsed the doorway behind them. The older knight favored the female with a smile that was a fraction away from warmth.

"Better, I see?" Then it died just as quickly; a formality, nothing more. "That's good... but... if what Erik told me is correct, and it always is, this incident is closed."

His wording made it plain just how much he yearned for it to continue. His auburn eye flashed to Razkar and narrowed slightly, but the gaze bounced off a stony gaze that had stared down raging Dhani, rampaging Yukmen and hardened sellswords. An armor-plated watchman didn't intimidate him.

"When she heals, we can go?"

"Yes. When she heals." Howlan bit out the words, squire glaring at the Myrian with undisguised regret. "You will be permitted to visit during the daylight hours. But for now, I would like you to leave this place."

Razkar didn't need to turn to feel the Svefra bristle with outrage, her hair vibrate with anger, and squeezed her hand a little harder, forcing her eyes to his. How strange, that it was in the savage's gaze he saw some... serenity.

"It is fine. I will come tomorrow." A new thought entered his eyes and he winced like a child being given a chore. "I have much cleaning to do..."

Three corpses and a few buckets of blood seeping into her... well, admittedly chaotic and rampantly-disorganized hold. Still, Razkar didn't imagine anyone would miss them.

by **Edreina** on July 10th, 2013, 10:51 pm

"Yes. When she heals. You will be permitted to visit during the daylight hours. But for now, I would like you to leave this place."

In the beat of silence that followed, Edreina bit into her cheek to cope with the unchecked rage; her exhaustion made it nearly impossible to control her flow of emotions. Who were they to decide whether or not she could have company? Better yet, who were they to tell a Myrian where he could or could not be. What if he went back to the boat, and more of Ekvan's friends were waiting for him? He would be safer without you there to worry about... Admitting that nearly made Edreina cringe.

Gentle pressure on her hand brought her back to the moment. "It is fine. I will come tomorrow... I have much cleaning to do..."

In another polar shift, Edreina had to bite back a grin. The way he said it reminded her of how it felt to realize that she had to swab and wax the deck. Then, she sighed with the realization that if there were any gouges in her hold from a stray weapon, they would have to be filled with a beeswax; a long and messy process she was loathe to undertake. "Just be safe, alright?" Her hand slid guiltily from between his and she averted her eyes, blushing as she worried over a petching Myrian's safety.

As Razkar left, carefully escorted by the knights, Edreina sighed and reclined against the soft bed, wriggling at the unfamiliar texture of the goose-down mattress and pillow. What are you doing, Reina? the mental-tone was accusing, chastising. She nearly recoiled in surprise before realizing that the words came from within her own mind. Trying to sleep... It was only part of a lie. As whatever herbs she had been given earlier wore off, Edreina became aware of a blunt throbbing from her wound. Perhaps if she were to focus on her physical pain, the mental agony would subside until she had enough energy to lock it away again.

You've fallen for him... This time, it was softer, almost sympathetic, though the hard, disapproving edge remained. She wanted to deny it, to fight such an assertion with every fiber of his being. But, like fighting the tide, it was hopeless. I love him... but I'm not in love with him... She had always cared for him, valued his tenuous friendship like an oyster's pearl. Finding someone she could speak to so freely, who never ceased to feed her unebbing curiousity... it was rare. There were things she kept from even her siblings, yet was shared with this dark-skinned man. But be in love with him? Never... You lie...

But he was from the jungle, she from the open sea. Their passions in life were so different, they could never overlap for long. Edreina had expected them to loose touch once they made landfall, but just the opposite had happened. She had become accustomed to having him on her ship, to sharing meals and conversations with him. The thought that she may one day be alone once more was like a hot shard of stone embedded in her gut; each time she thought about it, the shard was twisted. But there was no avoiding such an eventuality.

Any other time, Edreina would have stomped down these negative emotions like a roach in her hold. The day had been long and taxing both physically and mentally, so now, overcome with a sense of impending loneliness, Edreina found herself sitting upright, knees pressed against her chest, eyes screwed tightly shut and a hand clapped over her mouth as she fought and lost to the urge to sob. Crying did not come naturally to her any more than walking came to a fish; it felt sacrilegious for her smiling lips to be pulled in the opposite direction by a frown. Despite her efforts, tears escaped her eyes to leave shining tracks down her cheeks and her breath came in hitching gasps. No whimpering came, no begging or pleading to the gods. She simply allowed herself to feel afraid, to feel lonely, for once.

The waves of pain eventually subsided as Edreina fell into an eerie sense of calm. She needed to leave, to get back onto the open sea where the worries of her heart could be squelched beneath the joy she felt upon the waves. A few days more, perhaps, and then she would move on. But right now, she needed to sleep, to gain back her physical and mental strength so that this pathetic weeping did not happen again. Without a sound, Edreina settled down on her side, knees pulled close as if she would fall apart at the seams at the lightest urging, and fell into a fitful sleep.

by **Razkar** on July 11th, 2013, 3:30 am

The dagger was unmistakable. He'd stared at or glimpsed it and a half-dozen of its siblings countless times over the years. Cleaning the brute's teeth, idling poking into tables, trees, carts and posts... used with brutal delight.

But the Smoker never expected to see Razkar toss one onto his table like it was cursed.

The moment the sharpened hunk of steel clattered onto the table chairs scraped the stone and his bodyguards rose, but the Myrian just stared them down, eyes wide and livid but face oddly stony.

His hands fell to his weapons. The Smokers' fearless guardians hesitated.

"Do not try."

"Razkar, what-"

"Shut up and listen..."

The Smoker had been a professional "face" for several years now. He knew it was hardly what children aspired to be, but life in the big city was hard, strange and unforgiving. He'd found a niche, a service, and it paid him well. But looking into the Myrian's eyes, his gambler's intuition told him that the charade would gain no purchase here.

And Razkar was angry. At him. For something that was not his fault.

"My friend, we heard what-"

"Shut up..." Razkar hissed, sounding more Dhani than Myrian now, words ground out between too-sharp teeth and killing the words taking form on that silver tongue. "... and listen..."

Five Bells Earlier

They took the bodies. Razkar breathed deeply and let the breath out louder than he needed to... but there was no other outward sign of his anger. The two squires that had "escorted" him back to the Goldengrotto were tense enough as it was.

"Stay out of trouble."

The tone tried so hard to be tough, but the young knight-to-be almost flinched when Razkar's head snapped to him, a whole day of horror and pain and grief and fear and rage flashing across his eyes like lightning strikes. The two of them held their ground though, sheen of seawater on their faces from the spray... then nodded curtly.

"Good day."

"Yes."

He watched them walk away, gleaming like bronzed statues in their training armor, until they vanished among the carts and horses and milling pedestrians. He didn't need to wait that long but...

Razkar sighed and shook his head. He had to go down there at some point.

The stench would have caused others to retch and vomit, but the Myrian had been among viscera and corpses for most of his life. The revolting smell of dried blood and fresh death... it permeated the hold. Razkar stopped at the bottom of the stairs and took a shaky breath.

A sensation he loved, had lived for, had dedicated his life to... the Myrian's face crumpled, frown nearly crushing his eyes into his head...

I didn't want that here. In this place. This was... meant to be...

Clean?

He threw his cloak to the side with something like anger, and started hunting through shelves, stabbing through chests, looking for the soap and brushes he had seen Edreina use. The Myrian got down on his knees before the nearest blackening, sticky stain and scrubbed and scrubbed and...

It went away. Inch by inch, degree by degree, the blood washed away and the deck was revealed, though it took a half-dozen sloshing and crimson buckets to do so. And three bars of soap; he reminded himself to replace them.

But when he was done and the sun was drowning beyond the bay, wind leaving them but clouds massing on the distance horizon, Razkar's energy had not decreased on slowed.

He started walking. Fast and purposeful, cloak billowing around him... and something he'd found lodged under a chest shoved into his belt.

Razkar arrived at the Spinning Coin a few chimes later, ordered an ale, got a seat and waited.

Present

"This... never happen again. You hear?"

"Razkar, Ekvan wasn't-"

There was a brown blur and the Myrian's fist shook the table so hard the Smoker's ale toppled. A brown and frothy slick oozed over the table and only the steady splatter of it onto the stone broke the silence.

His other hand was still on his gladius. The bodyguards had noticed. Neither moved. Razkar's eyes flashed to each and saw a bead of sweat trickle down ones brow...

"Sit. Down."

To their credit, they looked to their master first, but he was growing paler by the moment and only nodded his agreement. Part of Razkar had expected that the Stranger, whom he suspected was Leo Valini, would not show his face tonight, or for a few more. A man as sharp as him, a shrewd judge of men, would know Razkar would come here and be... difficult to mollify.

Hence the mask. The Smoker.

"You are not so stupid to send men to kill me. Not think so. I work. I work well. Why kill me? Ekvan was for himself. He was stupid."

Razkar leaned forward over the table and lowered his gaze so his eyes burned like blazing coals under his brow and the Smoker could not look away.

"But my friend was hurt. Not happen again from you people. Any of them."

The Smoker composed himself admirably, cleared his throat and took a deep drag on his pipe... but it had gone out. One of his bodyguards struck a match with trembling fingers, and the sensation of being waited on seemed to liven the spokesperson.

"Remember who you're talking to, R-"

"Ah, I not want to speak shit with you... peon!" Razkar spat out, using a word he'd heard Edreina screech at some human who'd nearly run over them in a cart a few days before. It seemed appropriately demeaning, so he decided to remember it. "I know you are not master. You are mask. You are... actor. Man who sit, man with ring, he is master." He put up a hand just as the Smoker opened his mouth. "Do not care who he is! I never have. But that is not point. You know, and now you tell him, word is to be put to others."

He paused for what he hoped was effect. He noted the grungy red beard of Gene Duval hovering just outside his peripheral, ready to step in should blood look ready to spill on his filthy floor. It was bad for business, bought the Knights around... not good.

"Female. Is. Not. Hurt."

"Razkar..." The Smoker began, licking his lips and speaking a touch more respectfully now. "I can almost guarantee that, on behalf of my master, but... you make enemies. Granted, they are often our enemies and your actions on our behalf create them, but the point remains, you may be targeted. So will your friend, and there will be nothing-"

Once again, there was a blur, a growl that was barely sentient, let alone human, and the knife shuddered, spun-

THUNK!

-as Razkar stabbed it into the table as hard as he could.

"Myrian..."

That was from Duval, not the Smoker, who sat there tight-lipped and holding himself together with sheer pride and ego. Razkar's glance flashed to him and the trio of bouncers backing him up, the barkeep clutching a worn but sturdy length of oak in his hand. The other humans were likewise armed, and were just waiting for the word.

"Never. Again."

He waited. Even as the tension mounted and the stress of the moment wound tighter and tighter... until the Smoker nodded, just once. Then Razkar turned away and walked past Duval, who shot him a disapproving look without fear. The Myrian respected that.

Razkar kept walking out of the Spinning Coin, and did not look back.

by **Radiant** on July 27th, 2013, 3:32 pm

Razkar :

Edreina :

Notes :

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.

Skill	XP Earned
Singing	+1 XP
Intimidation	+4 XP
Persuasion	+2 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP
Seduction	+1 XP
Unarmed Combat	+1 XP
Weapon: Hand ax	+1 XP
Weapon: Kukri	+1 XP
Medicine	+2 XP

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Rhetoric	+2 XP
Persuasion	+2 XP
Seduction	+1 XP
Brawling	+2 XP
Unarmed Combat	+1 XP

Completed What Will Really Was (Edreina)