Quest Even Worse Pain: A Crucible Story

[Verilian]

. . Even Worse Pain A Crucible Story Timestamp: 30th of Summer, 513 AV Location: Somewhere on the Docks Characters: Iriarri Leth was high in the sky that night, casting her pale glow over the canals of Ravok. There was a cool breeze flowing through the docks, and the gentle lapping of waves could be heard against the resting ravosala floating in the water. Irriari was out, no surprise considering her nature, though there was no specific reason for her to be out. Perhaps she was bored? Perhaps she was looking for something to do? The reason's did not matter, but what did matter was that she found herself in the Docks district, along the western edge of the city. There were very few others out that night, especially on the west side of town. Most activity was on the south and east side of the docks, where ships came in from the Southern Trade Post and the majority of the warehouses and businesses were located. The west side was known more for smuggling, to those who knew of such things of course. Irriari would soon be one to know of such things, if she did not already. Up ahead was a small water glider, one of the ships common on the lake. She could see a small crew of men and women loading something onto the ship in a hurried fashion, though it was all in wooden creates and she could not tell what it was. This might not have drawn her attention much, until something caught her eye. A woman.. a strikingly familiar woman, tossed a crate to a man on the boat before disappearing into a building. There was something about her.. something so familiar that Irriari just could not shake. When the woman appeared again, Irriari could only see her backside. She had long black hair, though it was tied into a pony tail to keep out of her face while she worked. If Irriari drew closer, she would be able to make out more details.. but what finally tipped her off, what confirmed what her mind had been trying to grasp at, was when she spoke. "That the last of them," the man on board the ship asked the woman. "Yes, Allen. I think that is all of them. Let me close up, and then we can go." That voice! Irriari had not heard it for three years, but it was a voice she could never forget. And when the woman turned around to head back to the house, Irriari finally saw her face. It was Sevrai. Alive. Well. And in Ravok. Her wrists were not broken. Her eyes sparkled with life, her face was not marred, her wrists were not broken. It was Sevrai, there was no mistaking, and she was alive.

[Irriari]

Irriari wandered the docks aimlessly for the third night in a row. While the city was more quiet at night than in the daytime, it was just as busy, if not more. Deals were created and enforced in the moonlit hours, and slaves scurried from place to place with scrolls clutched tightly in their hands. There was no doubt that the papers they carried were worth more than the life of the bearer. Few humans paid any mind to her, and Irriari enjoyed the solitude the night provided. There was a silent pact among those who walked during the twilight hours in Ravok, and the zith was happy to abide by it, for it gave her the ability to walk across bridges with her wings open.

The zith skirted the edges of the docks and watched the humans load their wares into crates and boats. Slaves glared at her as she passed by, obviously jealous of the amount of freedom she was allowed. One spoke openly to his companion,

“That petching thing gets to walk around here free and we have to work until we bleed. It’s not right. What do you think, Marc?”

His companion glanced over in her direction and continued loading bolts of fabric a ship that was tethered to the docks nearby.

“I ain’t got nothing to think about no woman, Danny, and you would too if you had half a brain.”

Irriari smiled cruelly at Danny before continuing down the docks. Whoever trained him had done a piss poor job of it. Slaves that had such strong opinions of matters that didn’t concern them deserved to have their tongues ripped out.

She continued walking down the narrow path of the dock until she was close to the end. Larger ships were held here, though the zith had no idea what they contained. Irriari found herself drawn to the curved figure of a woman who was walking towards a building on the west side of the docks. As she drew closer, Irriari tried to ignore the woman’s hair. She had made the mistake of attacking a woman who looked like Sevrai before.

Sevrai was dead.

‘You’re the reason she died. She’s been gone for years.’ Irriari's scathing thoughts weren’t enough to make her turn back. Instead, her pace quickened as she saw the woman turning towards her. Irriari studied the womans face for but a moment, needing no more time to recognize the radiant eyes that peered outward into the darkness. It was Sevrai!

Heedless of the fact that Sevrai had died years before, Irriari ran towards the slave that she had fallen in love with. When Irriari reached her, she grabbed Sevrai’s wrist, yanking her a few feet back.

“Sevrai! You’re alive!”

Mad with the sight of her former slave, Irriari spoke quickly while pulling at the girls wrist even more forcefully.

“I’ll get you out of here. I’ll kill whoever enslaved you.”

[Verilian]

Sevrai was shocked, to say the least. One moment she was talking to Allen, and the next she was being yanked back by a woman with a strangely familiar voice and being pulled away. It took her a fraction of a chime to recognize the voice and realize just who it was, and then her eyes widened even further in shock. Of all the people she had expected to find in Ravok, Irriari was the last of them. "Irri.. Irriari? Irriari! No, wait, you don't understand! Nobody enslaved me, I was saved. I'm free!" Of course Irriari might not consider Sevrai free, if she still thought of the woman as her own. But that was beside the point. Sevrai struggled against the Zith's grasp until she finally stopped, and as soon as she did the former slave, former dead person pulled Irriari toward her and wrapped her arms around her. The embrace was short lived, however, as Allen caught up to them, demanding to know what was happening. His eyes darted back and forth between the zith and the woman, confusion plain on his face. "It's okay, Allen. She wont hurt me." Of course the same could not be said of Allen. It was quite possible that Irriari would tear the man apart if Sevrai did not say something else. "It's okay," the woman said, turning back to the Zith, "he is my brother." OOCIf Sevrai actually does have a brother and you've mentioned him in thread before, let me know and I'll change the name to match it. If not, don't worry about it. All will become clear later.

[Irriari]

Sevrai turned to her and began speaking. Irriari melted at her sound of her melodious voice. Somehow, she had her heart again. Sevrai wasn’t dead. She repeated it over and over in her mind as she listened to her slave speak, but there were still hints of doubt, prodding at her mind. Nothing could erase the memory of the tattered mess of a body she had found on the stone floor of her bedroom within the colony. Her happiness clashed with doubt as Sevrai spoke.

“Saved?! You are mine.”

The last word came out as a possesive snarl. She grabbed Sevrai's hair and pulled the girl's head back as she spoke.

“Did someone steal you from me after the colony burned your corpse? Are you claiming that you’re no longer mine after I nearly died to avenge you? After I got thrown out of the colony for killing Fierce?”

If Sevrai dared to claim that she was saved, Irriari already knew what would happen. Sevrai would die, and the fool who dared to lay claim on her property would suffer the same fate, in no particular order. Sevrai belonged to her.

Sevrai’s assurance to Allen infuriated her even more. Ignoring the words meant to placate her, Irriari dropped Sevrai’s hair and walked towards the edge of the dock to glare at the man who was standing on the ship.

“I don’t care what you are to her, or what she calls you. Sevrai is mine, and if you try to stop me from taking her, I'll kill you. I don’t care about your petching family bonds.”

With that, Irriari waited for Sevrai’s answer, knowing that her slave’s reply would determine whether the dock would be coated in blood.

oocWell, turns out bold doesn't work too well with this font/color combo

[Verilian]

Sevrai's eyes widened at Irriari's words, her mistake dawning on her a moment too late. Of course Irriari would consider herself to still be Sevrai's master. Death, or apparent death, would not save her from that. But the Zith still did not understand. She wasn't listening. "No, no, that's not what I meant I mean, I was saved from death. I was given another chance at life. I died at the colony, and woke up fully healed in my brother's home, only a few days ago. He had no idea how I got there, but I do. It was Priskil." Irriari probably had no idea who or what a Priskil was, but Sevrai held up her hand anyway to reveal a strange, glowing vortex on her palm, emitting a calm light. A part of Irriari might actually be repelled by the light, if she still sought to harm Sevrai, but Sevrai did not consider Irriari an enemy, nor was she invoking whatever power was within the vortex of light, so Irri could easily overcome any uncertainty it cast upon her. As for Allen, he held his ground, and his hand dropped to the dagger tucked into his belt. He made no other move to threaten the Zith, preferring not to make a scene right there in the streets of Ravok, but he would not hesitate to gut the creature if it meant saving he and his sister's life. Looking past the Zith, he spoke to his sister. "Sevrai, let's get out of here. The Zith can come, but we need to leave before it's too late. If they find us, they'll kill us all."

[Irriari]

As Sevrai spoke, Irriari walked away from Allen to face her. Sevrai’s admission that she was alive and well did little to comfort Irriari. While the zith knew nothing of Priskil, she was unnerved by the thought of her slave rising from the dead. Sevrai had died. There was no way that anyone could convince her otherwise, but for now, she would trust her former slave. Irriari peered upward at the brown haired woman standing before her. As Irriari turned to address Sevrai’s brother, her former slave held up a pale ringed hand that pulsed with a soft light. Her eyes were drawn to the radiant contrast of the light against the dark background of the docks.

“What is that, Sevrai?”

Confusion evident in her voice, Irriari reached for Sevrai’s wrist. As her clawed hand neared the pulsing light, she pulled away, unsure if she wanted to touch something that reminded her of the sun. The sun was a vessel of pain and confusion, and rushing eagerly towards it was foolhardy at best. The proverbs and teachings of the Elders echoed in her mind, urging caution in one ear and bloodshed into the other. A quick shake of her head cleared the invading thoughts, and she was left with the naught but the sounds of the waves crashing against the docks.

Allen’s voice broke the calm of the moment, and his urgency caused the zith to pivot on her heel. It took but a moment for the zith to process the threat. She spoke loudly, looking from Sevrai to Allen.

“Kill you? Who would dare to kill you? The city is protected by Rhysol. Are you trying to smuggle Ebonstryfe soldiers across the lake with that ‘brother’ of yours?”

While it was rare for Irriari to joke, she doubted that Sevrai and Allen were in any real danger. Irriari stopped and addressed Allen, knowing that the dagger at his hip was far more dangerous than the roughhewn nails that Sevrai wore on her fingertips.

“Why do you want to leave so quickly? I don’t plan on going anywhere outside of Ravok, and if you attempt to take Sevrai away from these docks, I’ll make sure that the blade at your hip gets buried in your chest.”

[Verilian]

Sevrai just could not get the Zith to understand. She did not know who Priskil was, apparently, and she did not recognize the danger they were in, remaining there in the docks. She was intent on threatening Allen, and keeping Sevrai for herself. "Please," Sevrai begged, "We have to get out of here. We have to go with him. This light marks me as an enemy of Rhysol. The Ebonstryfe are the ones who will kill me!" Of course Sevrai did not know that Irriari had joined the Ebonstryfe. In fact, she was quite surprised that the Zith even knew who Rhysol was. Allen, however, was not willing to beg. The man stepped forward, drawing his dagger. It rested easily in his hand, and he moved like he knew what he was doing. Pointing the blade at Irriari he issued a warning. "I will not let my sister die here. Either come with us, or leave. She does not belong to you anymore, she belongs to Priskil, the goddess of hope and radiance. She belongs with the Rising Dawn!"

[Irriari]

OOCIt took me three read-throughs, but I noticed your typo (bed, instead of bend). So Allen won’t bed Irri? You know, if he would have, that *might* have changed everything. Oh well.

Irriari’s look of discontent and annoyance quickly morphed into one of scathing hatred. While she knew little about the Rising Dawn, it was enough to know that they were enemies of the Ebonstryfe and Rhysol. If she spoke to Allen or Sevrai any longer, her life would be forfeit, and the luxuries she had begun to enjoy in Ravok would disappear. The zith began to advance forward towards Sevrai. Thoughts raced through her head, starting with the tame and mild, though they quickly progressed to angry, violent fantasies of ripping Allen to shreds. It was his fault that her precious slave had become so headstrong. He had replaced the meek girl she loved with an abhorrent monstrosity that dared to help Priskil in Rhysol’s own city. Irriari’s decision was made quickly, with the calm ruthlessness of a warrior that had no thoughts left to burden the blade that they carried.

Allen’s angry voice echoed through the stagnant air. Irriari feigned shock for a moment, and forced herself to nod. The muscles in her neck were stiff, and the movement was a far cry from the empathetic gesture she tried to portray.

“I understand… I was simply hasty. I’m sorry.”

The words felt like poison on her tongue, but she managed to spit them out before reaching Sevrai. She reached out and stroked her slave’s hair slightly. It took only an instant for her hand to grasp the soft brown locks that cascaded down Sevrai’s back. As her right hand held her ex-slaves hair and head in place, her left was balled into a fist that she buried into Sevrai’s chest, directly below the middle of her ribcage. The maneuver was awkward, and the punch had far less power than she had hoped, but it gave her enough time to yank Sevrai’s hair downward hard. With luck, the girl would fall to the ground and be dazed.

The gesture hurt Irriari, but the blood sight had overtaken her senses enough that hurting Sevrai wasn’t crippling. She could regret what was lost after the battle was fought. She pivoted on her heel to face Allen. She cursed in zithanese and bent her knees slightly. He was not worthy of being addressed in Common.

[Verilian]

"What are you doing!?" The anger in Allen's voice was apparent, but it was unlikely that Irriari would take notice. Sevrai was stunned on the ground behind her, coughing for air, but Allen was in no such weakened state. The Rising Dawn charged at the Zith, dagger flashing wickedly in his hand as he slashed out at the Zith as soon as he drew near enough to strike. The attack was quick and precise, and he clearly knew what he was doing. It was immediately followed by another slash, and possibly even another depending on what Irriari would do. Behind her Sevrai struggled to catch her breath. She was conflicted about what to do. She knew that Allen would likely kill the Zith, or the other way around. If Irriari survived the fight, things would not bode well for Sevrai. She was free.. Priskil had freed her, saved her life, and given her a new task. But Irri would never see it that way. The slave struggled to her feet. As all this went on, a small crowd was drawing. They were silent, and remained in the shadows. Even to Irri's night sight they would be hard to see, dressed in all black, blending with the shadows of the same color. They all watched, waiting to see how the Zith would react. Allen struck out once more, a punch with his dagger aimed at Irri's face. If it hit, she would likely die.

[Irriari]

The zith ignored the pained coughing from beside her, knowing that if she spared a second to glance down at her former slave, it would be one that she would regret. The feelings that she held for Sevrai had come roaring back to life in the wake of the slave's sudden appearance. Love, anger, regret, and guilt swirled inside her as the human in front of her yelled something. She ignored him and withdrew into herself, allowing the blood sight to extend just to her fingertips and toes. It wasn’t enough rage to send her into action, but the male was fraying at her patience. Any attempt on his part to rescue her slave would end in him being ripped apart. The first strike from the human caught her off guard. The zith was so deep within her thoughts and confusion that the attack landed cleanly, bouncing slightly as it hit her leather armor before slicing into her torso. The attack was more than just surprising- it was brutal. Allen didn’t seem to fear her cracked leather armor or her claws. For the hundredth time, the zith wished she had found a leatherworker in the Sea of Grass that she could have enslaved. Her leather armor was now just as much of a hindrance as it was a blessing. The deep cracks would bend together, pinching skin and fur when she flew or moved suddenly. In its unconditioned state, the armor provided far less protection- heavy blows to her chest would turn the armor into another force to push against her instead of one that melded to her body. Blood poured from the wound where the human had found unprotected flesh. The skin tore further as the zith recoiled clumsily, desperate to gain some distance from her assailant. Her wings unfurled beside her and she pushed them forwards while striking out with a kick to Allen’s knee. The hit landed- barely, but the distance was more important than the damage caused. The second and third strikes chained together in a morbid dance of steel that cut upwards from her torso to her shoulder and then down again, leveraging the momentum that he had gained from pressing forward. The zith was forced to continue moving back as the blows landed. The first hit landed true, making contact with the furred flesh around her collarbone. She felt the dagger bite into a muscle and screamed in rage and pain. Humans that could fight were the true enemy of zith. The Elders had warned her again and again not to underestimate the power of a blade. The zith who had died to steel were buried with their wounds uncovered as a constant reminder to the colony that death was only a single misstep away. The second blow was absorbed by her armor and the zith laughed at him before pushing off the ground and into the air. Laughing cost her a precious second, and Allen used that moment to stab towards her face. The force of her body being pushed upward while the blade was aimed forward caused his dagger to embed itself into the leather guarding her breast. The point of the blade pricked the skin beneath it enough to draw a line of blood. Allen wretched the dagger out her armor and the zith struggled to get airborne. After a few more seconds of furious wing pumping, she found herself high enough that Allen could only strike her if he threw his blades into the air. She hoped for it, but doubted that a human so proficient in combat would be so foolish as to throw his weapons at an airborne target. She cursed at him in zithanese, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Irriari knew she would have but one chance to kill him, if she got lucky. This pathetic male would not have her slave. The zith would rather see Sevrai die again then watch her leave with another.