Closed [Nettle District] - Within Eyes Hidden (Riken Avadur)

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others
Winter 12, 513 AV | oocI got a bit carried away with the lead up -- Sorry about that!

The grasp of winter was tight and cold, the kelvic already loathing the waking hours she was forced to spend away from her bed and hearth. She gave a light sigh, and pushed herself away from the front counter of the store, forcing her tight muscles to loosen and move as she busied herself about the shelves. A myriad of quiet curses soon left her lips, Altaira coming across the odd thing or two that had been incorrectly placed - each most likely from some careless customer too daft or selfish to care for the proper order of things.

She gave a glance to the front door of the store, her gaze falling back to a rather untidy shelf before she properly registered what she saw, a figure she thought she'd glimpsed drawing her attention. In an instant her head was snapped towards the form, and she half hid her own frame behind one of more crowded shelves. What a strange person, he or she seemed to be - but not so horridly unlike anyone she'd seen before. They wore a mask, and she was struck with the uncanny resemblance they bore to sweet Millicent. There was even a moment when she thought that it was Millicent, the make of the mask and the jarring height difference quickly discouraging any further thought on the matter.

She stared at them for some expanse of time, before feeling her mouth begin to gap and dry, moving her hand to cover it as she briskly closed it. A sound had her sharply turn and eye the direction of the workroom, heart pulsating quickly until she recalled that she wasn't the only one who worked in the store. She then gave an exasperated sigh, a light giggle of disbelief bubbling from her lips as she returned to the depths of the tonics and salves and solutions, musing when she was to expect the placement of another bulk order.

Such mass buyings were common in winter and spring, especially, with many ships and sailors docking for the winter season, restocking all matter of items and tokens kept on board. So far there had only been two small orders placed, neither of which so large that all employees needed to be called in to aid - which was especially the reason why Altaira was left to tend the store, instead of take on double duties as was usually expected of her.

The soft chime of the front door rung in her ear, and a polite smile took place on her lips. "Welcome, is there anything I can help you with?" She began, returning to her place behind the counter, unsure whether she was to deal with a sale or an inquiry. The woman was a familiar one, hair piled high and child clinging to her tightly - from what Altaira knew of public displays of hatred and detestation, there seemed to be something in particular that had the woman vexed.

There was a sharp moment when fear took hold of Altaira's own form, trying to conclude if perhaps the woman was one that had issue with her. "Is there something the-" She began, brow furrowed and stance shrunk back slightly, words cut off by a look of bitterness and annoyance. "What, do I look pleased to you?" She began, and Altaira felt herself begin to bend further and further backwards, deciding that she'd really rather not allow her finer clothing to be covered in another's saliva.

"That is my problem," she announced, pointing somewhere outside of the store. Altaira raised an eyebrow and leaned to the right, frowning as she sought the poor being to invoke the woman's wrath, but also detesting them herself for having her caught in the crossfire. "I'm not too sure..." she trailed, throwing an uncertain glance to the fuming woman, before standing bolt upright. "I'm sorry, what am I supposed to-" Further sound came from her flank, and she dropped her sentence as she turned and met the gaze of the Mistress, one pair of the Eypharian's hands in the midst of being wiped clean, the other at work with mortar and pestle. "Altaira was about to take her leave, she'll see to it that the problem is resolved before she does so - in the mean time, please follow me, I need you to make several refinements to your order before it is complete, and I can allow you to leave with it."

The look the Mistress than threw her confused apprentice a look that was both stern and apologetic, to which she promptly received a curt nod in response. "Of course," She mused with her nod, blocking out what ever remark the other woman then said to her, knowing only by the scrunching of her piggish nose that it was not something that she'd be sore to miss.

In her desire to leave the presence of the hog and her meek child, she managed to forget her cloak, biting her tongue and she gave a hard look to those loitering about the place. None seemed to be different from the norm; many infuriated herself to no end, but the 'normal' person - as certain people of the city liked to call the average denizen - wouldn't pay much thought. With that in mind, it wasn't the stout man with greasy hair, nor the ghost-like woman, or the half drunk middle aged man, nor his rather unflattering friend, that were the issue.

She was about to pretend that the matter was done and dealt with when a familiar masked person caught her eye, and she judged by the glances and looks thrown at him, and his rather close proximity to the store that she'd found who she was looking for.

Her approach was less than subtle, and not at all refined. It came with a sigh and a bitter look, her arms tightly folded over her chest. As she approached, the height difference became apparent - or at least, the lack thereof did. "Excuse me?" she began, not at all sure where she was to begin, eyes dipping southward as she decided that it was indeed a man that she spoke to. "Can I help you?" She tried to keep her expression as open as possible, thoughts of Millicent and how the younger woman may be treated in similar circumstances enough to keep her manners mild.

Even with her good intentions, she could feel the falter in her attempt at a pleasant smile, and soon she felt her features take form of something more akin to a grimace than an invitation to conversation, "I, at least, don't need a mask to scare the local children." Oh, so now she was going to patronise the masked stranger? Who may, or may not, have the skill and will enough to kill her on the spot? Great plan.

[Riken Avadur]

The chilled winter air softly blew through the small foyer beyond Stormhold Salves. This had always been a somewhat envious position in this level of the castle, and the courtyard often served home for many who enjoyed the breath of fresh air in the otherwise sealed city. Riken reveled in such innocuous crowds, and often found himself either surveilling or meeting in the popular square. It lent itself naturally to his penchant for hiding in plain sight, even in his recreational hours. This day however, was a day of business. Riken was currently overseeing the surveillance of a certain mercantile group, on behalf of a client who should not be named. His dark cloak fluttered as a breeze swept through the square, and the agent adjusted the mask carried upon his face. Usually, Riken did not care to wear his old heirloom in such a mundane operation, but today was a special case. His usual method of deception through the use of his trusty Bird's Tongue was lost, and the man had to resort to backup measures. It was standard procedure to disguise himself in one way or another, and the mask served that purpose. Detailed with a red diamond over one eye and a jester's smile, the mask was quite easily seen as an actor's tool, and this presumption tended to benefit Riken well enough. Except, it seemed, for this one day... Children. Subconsciously, Riken scolded the child for being fearful of the man; a few images from Sunberth came to mind as truly worthy of such a response. Returning to his watch, Riken continued to gaze across the square, carefully monitoring a circle of jovial-seeming men, including one of particular note. A lower-serving gentleman in the trading guild, Riken had arranged for him to discuss false information with a couple rumoring dockhands. Once the merchant acted on the false information, it was Riken's hope that he would be retired from his position, and in a more favorable position to share information about the agent's true target. All that was left was to simply observe, and to make sure no other members of the ring approached. But of course, the real distraction was to come from the least expected place. It took Riken a moment to realize where the voice was directed at, and it wasn't until the jest about his mask that he had turned to face the woman. She was quite attractive, and almost exactly at his height. There was something drawing about her eyes, but what really found his attention was the woman's light attire. "If such children are afraid of a gentle soul like me, I pray for their future. I, on the other-hand, am more concerned for your lack of outerwear. This square benefits from the double-edged blade of nature, and tends to become somewhat cool in the winter." Taking a small bow, more out of dramatics than anything else, Riken continued, offering a final piece of wit to his words. "And I feel it a waste for you to display such beauty on dreary men such as myself." The man smiled beneath his mask as he rose straight once more, awaiting the woman's response to his masked gestures. It would be a fun day.

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

His tone and choice of words took her by surprise, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was she was expecting in the first place. He spoke for a moment about worrying for such a child's future, and she felt inclined to agree, if only for being privy to the kind of complications arise when they hit their later years. Before she had a moment of time spare to both voice her agreement and announce her purpose, the conversation moved to herself, and she frowned at the sudden change. Snow had fallen early, she was told, and there was much more that came than any had expected.

As much as she hated the bite and chill of the air, the slush that snow often dissolved to, the slippery surface that came with a case of ice, and the dryness of her skin, she knew the winter was still young and mild. If she couldn't handle the early winter snow, she had no chance for mid-season. If anything, she decided, she could use her lack of protection against the elements as a well enough excuse to cut the conversation short, should she take issue with its turns, that was. Bringing her mind back to conversation, the depth of her look deepened for a short moment, the man moving on to a bow and flattery.

She blatantly ignored the creeping of a blush, and fought against the will of her lips to curve and quirk. She prayed to Morwen that she merely looked like the cold was taking its toll on the tip of he nose and cheeks, clearing her throat before summoning up coherence. "I..." she began, taking a short glance to a wall as though she was appealing to it for answers. Nope, she was going absolutely nowhere. Was there a particular way that one was supposed to respond to odd compliments from men wearing masks? Without sounding blatant and rude? Quick wit was never her forte - she'd had an entire little walk to come up with her last little line, and now she felt like she was required to keep it up.

"Would have to say, no." Well, that was something. It was a sentence, at least. More like a fragment - but it was something, right? A huff of air escaped her lips and she relaxed her stance, deciding she'd rather be a fool for being herself than one for attempting to appear quicker than she was. "I don't know what your definition of 'dreary' is, or whether I was simply misinformed in the first place," She felt herself rambling, but made no effort to stop. "But I don't think you're it," her words were true and said with an obvious lack of finesse, completely and wholly herself - for better, or for worse.

It was odd talking to a mask, more so given she could make out the pigment of his eyes - hazel. Such a sweet colouration, not at all jarring or startling. In a few words, they were pleasant enough, but more so awfully intriguing.

[Riken Avadur]

Riken did not laugh, or even quip, at the lady's response, despite what his cynical mind may have thought. In his experience, most have either simply taken the compliment from the stranger as strange enough, and made their leave, or, taken to the other extreme, focus on nothing other than his words of flattery, and keep only that fragment in their minds. But the few that have the wit or curiosity to match Riken's own, turned the focus right back to him, and that interested the man beyond measure. And while she did not seem to be of the former, the agent withheld his judgement for now, on account of his aforementioned curiosity, and the woman's pleasant form. Riken was a gentleman, but a man all of the same. "My, then you are sharp and beautiful. It would be a dreadful shame for you to catch a cold, mi lady." Riken spoke as he unfastened the cloak about his shoulders, his mask's ever-present smile reflecting his own within as he offered it to the woman before him. "Please, I insist..." Taking yet another bow, Riken glanced over to the group he had been watching, with a less than pleasant response. In the minuscule time he had been distracted, a new group had arrived, most likely thugs from the merchant ring sent to ensure their members were not disturbed, and naturally, recruited. Keeping secrets and deals within the circle worked both ways, and once you were in, it was devilishly hard to get out. Riken decided he'd have to cut this pleasant conversation short, and make his leave, when a second development arose. How nice of them to make the decision for him. Wasting no time, Riken reached out for the woman's hand, and spoke with a tone of absolute seriousness, only amplified by the mask. "I will explain later, but a group of five, six, dangerous men are on their way here, and I do apologize but I doubt they'll be any less pleasant with a lady such as yourself. Come with me, and I swear on my life you will be safe." While Riken did not usually whisk away bystanders in his surveillance, there was something about this brash woman's nature that he believed would not end well in the thug's approach. This was the best option for the situation, or at least Riken believed so. Time was of the essence, as the few men he had hired gladly told the mercantile thugs about the man with a mask in wait, who were now on making their way towards them, scouring the plaza. Palming his mask, Riken removed it from his face, and stored it in his cloak. His hand still extended, the man's features were not unpleasant to look at, but currently held the same gravity as they did before. "Please, I insist."

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

"No, I-" She began, words soft and meant for herself - the cloak that was extended to her nothing of the sort that she needed. The use of the word needed, in note, apposed to wanted. Had it been a friend who otherwise wore more than enough layers, she'd gladly take it. Strange men in white masks? Who she met because they scarred a child and said child's mother was pain? No, she tended not to accept items from them. He bowed once more, and she stiffened as she sought some form of response that would work well enough to deny it. Or she could just leave? Right, leaving sounded like a-

"I will explain later, but a group of five, six, dangerous men are on their way here, and I do apologize but I doubt they'll be any less pleasant with a lady such as yourself. Come with me, and I swear on my life you will be safe."

She blinked thrice, expression awash with confusion and panic. Gods, what was the man on about? She pressed her lips and took a short glance at the outstretched hand, before letting her gaze slip in the direction that his own had dwelt the moment before. The men that the masked man before her spoke of were no great difficulty to spot, and unkind in countenance, and she gave a curse as the weight of the situation hit her like a wave. By the time that she'd screwed her head on, and was able to give a coherent response and reaction, he'd removed his mask. She couldn't handle squires on her own, what hope did she have for thugs?

She let out a steady breath, and took his hand without a further falter. "Lead the way." It was the first thing that came to mind, the look across the man's then bare face pressed her to respond as such. Running, at least, was not so taxing a sport as conversation.

[Riken Avadur]

OOCI swear, these will get shorter. I get carried away with dynamic scenes... >.>" Riken offered a polite smile as he grasped the woman's hand, and then everything was a blur. Evading a pursuit was always harder with a second person, and the experienced agent found himself slower than usual in their escape. He knew that the moment they had started running, the chase would be on, and so he had waited until a small group had started walking between them before bolting. The small streets of the Stormhold were not terribly hard to move in, especially on this level, where the Bazaar necessitated some space for logistics and the like. That aspect was far from ideal, in this situation. Riken considered himself in fine form, athletically speaking, and so far his charge had been keeping up fine, but in a straight chase it was only a matter of time before the larger group caught up to the burdened pair. The thugs had been ready for a chase, and Riken and this woman had not. And such an apparent disadvantage was where the man of many secrets and a million masks shone. Riken read a sign through heavy breaths as he sprinted by, and had a split second to make a choice. He had an idea of where they were, but still no opportunity to make a break for it. Riken continued parsing through a thousand options, all of his spatial knowledge concerning this place collected just for this scenario. Riken essentially shoulder-charged through a merry group of friends, as if the people were nothing but a cloud of smoke, and quickly pivoted on his foot, his body skidding to a stop as he spun to his right. His trailing arm collapsed as the woman, given no warning, slammed into Riken, and for a split-second the scene seemed like one from a fairy tale. Riken held the woman in his arm, a faint smirk across his face demonstrating how much he was enjoying himself. It was only in moment's like these that the man's facade would crack, and his true emotions came through. But such a moment was fleeting by definition. Amidst a furious crowd yelling at this belligerent man, Riken heard only the silence of his footsteps, and remedied that problem post-haste. As quickly as he had stopped, his legs once again sprinted forward, only this time forward was aimed straight down one of the castle's many alleyways and bypasses. He ducked his head as he did so, his arm pulling down to try and communicate this fact to the woman behind him. If all went well, the thugs would only see the disgruntled and surprised group, and never see the twist the pair had taken. The alley alternated from near-darkness to faint illumination, the torches sparser here. The two stopped in one of the darker areas as Riken pressed closely against the stranger, and watched the way they came. His eyes held a solemn professionalism in their flickering reflections, as he held a finger to the woman's lips. As the moments passed, each longer than the last Riken remained like a statue, and ensured the woman did so as well. After a minute or so, Riken allowed himself to relax, and now realized how close he had pushed himself onto this woman. Understanding that this is one way to make an impression, Riken stood back (although the alley did not allow for too much of that), and once again bowed his head. His voice came out softly, almost a whisper in echoing hallway. "I apologize if I was a bit too brash there. I was not entirely keen on getting my ass kicked by a bunch of brutes. Are you alright, miss...?" Riken's features flickered with the torch light, once again casting quite the ominous figure of a man who has, in essence, kidnapped this poor woman. Yet the voice carried a tone of genuine sincerity, and words of kindness and concern. The juxtaposition was unsettling to say the least, but something that happened all too often in this man's life. In some ways, this was just another day on the job. Except this time with a fairy-tale maiden to whisk away.

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others | oocHaha XD Go for your life!

He stopped suddenly, and for all her so called kelvic fluidity, she failed to take note of the sudden break and slammed into him. Not that he seemed to mind, his stance and playful look taking her by surprise. You sly sonova- Before she could collect herself he was quick to move again, and she found herself glad for the slight flush that took to her cheeks with bouts of running. It probably wasn't the best idea to get flustered when running from a group of men that could probably kill you. Not that she couldn't handle one or two on her own - half a dozen when just a bit excessive.

Soon enough another crowed was crash, as she felt the man tug her downwards, and she promptly followed suit. She figured that the aim was hide below the line of sight, and gladly took the chance to take up a speed that was further hindered and not nearly so fast. A chime later and she was hushed and pressed, a finger to her lips making protest and shifting her gaze difficult. Unable to search for signs of the men herself, she reigned to focusing on the previously masked man, and hoping that he'd give away a hint great enough to overcome the lack of light, and draw her attention away from himself in general.

She almost flinched when he relaxed, but was unable to prevent her breath from hitching. He moved back as much as could be managed, the rush of air that came having her shiver regardless of her pulsating heart, and he bowed much like he had before. "I apologize if I was a bit too brash there. I was not entirely keen on getting my ass kicked by a bunch of brutes. Are you alright, miss...?"

Given his previous manner and tone, the way he spoke caught her off guard, and a breathless smile broke her expression. "Altaira- Altaira Readva" she said, throwing a glance towards the street, "I'm fine, just...". Right, where were they? When she brought her gaze back she quirked an eyebrow. Should she be thanking him, or questioning him? It was his fault that she was taken on the little adventure, so was gratitude really needed? But he could have easily left her, she supposed. "What about you? Are you..." Her words weren't working all that well for her, and she gave a sigh and looked him over. He seemed fine, and from what she could recall, he handled himself well. With that in order to took a breath, and went out with the question foremost on her mind, "What in Gods' names just happened?"

[Riken Avadur]

With the difficult part of this whole affair behind him, Riken was able to relax with a few deep breaths, and compose himself into a more natural state. Sliding off his cloak, he ran a hand through his short hair and donned his usually whimsical and polite expression. Responding to her concern, Riken finished Altaira's question for her, and gave her his unnecessary assurance. "Fine? I'm perfect, thank you. Just a bit winded, is all." The question of whether or not to provide his real identity was often a question easily answered, erring on the side of caution, but Riken was a man of fair morals, whenever they decided to appear, and after dragging this poor woman into this mess, it was the least he could do. "The name is Riken. Riken Avadur. I suppose I owe you an explanation or two..." Holding his cloak in the crook of his arm, Riken began mindlessly flipping a coin in his pocket, as he started to walk down the dimly lit corridor. The man walked at a snail's pace, giving both himself and his new acquaintance a respite from the earlier unexpected burst. As they walked, Riken began to explain the situation, his volume still dampened, but the tone now much more casual. "I like to call myself a man of knowledge, but others tend to refer to me as an Information Dealer. I have a variety of pseudonyms and aliases, and spend my time making a living off of trading secrets and information. I was planting some bad seeds, I guess you could say, and things went south. I was a tad preoccupied with this mysteriously-annoyed yet remarkably-beautiful woman to notice immediately however, and by the time I did, my window for escape was coming to a close. Given my aforementioned distraction, I could not discern whether or not they had associated you with myself, and so I decided the best course would be to whisk you away regardless." Riken sharply avoided mentioning how he thought her approach would have been a bit too brash for the thugs, or his casual-seeming throwing of compliments as tools to soften the blows. Tricks of the trade, and all that. Riken continued onward, reflecting analytically on his earlier dramatics, which could have possibly been construed as a sort of kidnapping. Just another day in the life, it seems.

[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

Altaira took his lead with out a word of complaint, choosing not to question his decision to spare her few details - at least as far as she was concerned, there was little that seemed to be left out. Riken Avadur: information Dealer, and as he apparently liked to think himself, man of knowledge. When he explained things, it made sense, though the random occurrences of flattery kept her on her toes.

She felt a pang of guilt at her own mention, and sighed heavily. "Well, you did a brilliant job with the whisking," She gave a sigh and a sorry smile. "However- could I suggest that you try and avoid children with... vivacious mothers? It'd spare us poor store workers a headache," She mused, ensuring that it was made clear that she wouldn't take all the fall. "Now, what other brilliant tokens of unwelcome advice can I throw at you?" She half asked herself, giggling slightly. She'd have to punish him for the ordeal in her own little way, why not make it light of heart and patronising?

"Don't get distracted by while on the job, as 'remarkably beautiful' the woman, as you seem to like saying, or not," She then rolled her eyes and threw Riken a look, very much enjoying the lack of a height difference. It was always awkward having to stare up or down to make eye contact, she found, and half the time she'd either just stare at space or someone's throat as her neck refused to be constantly arched.

She'd gladly take a compliment on any usual day, but it seemed strange coming from him. "Especially since you're such a fine man, yourself," she carried on, sending him her own dramatic gesture, allowing it to dissolve into a look of scandal. If he was going to enjoy himself in the throwing of compliments, then she would rise to the little game. "Whatever will you do when you come across a sweet woman hunting a husband, who she fancies a gentleman of manners, wit, and delightful eyes?"

She grinned at the thought, unable to stop the short memory or two of childhood resurfacing. The Vantha of Avanthal tended to be betrothed young, so the number of 'cat fights' that broke out among the teenage men and women was something that spent a large amount of time in childhood laughing at.

[Riken Avadur]

Riken was glad to hear Altaira's jests, as it meant there were less questions. And in his experience, the less questions asked of the man, the better. Riken had a coffer of secrets in his mind, not even counting the myriad of skeletons hiding in his closet. It was often for the best to keep things nice and succinct, and this playful banter was a comforting diversion. Riken held his cloak beneath his arms as he adjusted his slim undershirt, doing his best to give himself a slightly different appearance before they left the tunnel. He continued this little game as they walked, the bustling noise of crowds beginning to echo once more through the dimly-lit tunnel. "Don't get distracted by women such as yourself? Why, that's like telling a man not to shield his eyes when he glances at the sun. A natural instinct, my dear." But beneath the jovial facade, Riken was already planning for the worst. Handing his cloak over to Altaira, he bid her to wear it. "Just in case they're still out there looking for us, it'd be best to not look exactly the same, at the very least." The exit was quickly approaching, but Riken's whimsical expression remained as steadfast as always. This was simply another part of the job, and one he had long ago grown accustomed to. At his new companion's attempts at her own flattery, Riken simply deflected them with his usual sarcasm and humble facade. "I'm not entirely sure. Do you happen to know any sweet women with a fancy for a mysterious gentleman they just met? I hear scaring children is his specialty." And step by step, the light of the main street began to seep into the dark alleyway, and not too long after, the thoroughfare opened before the pair. The scene seemed tranquil enough, and there was no true imperative or single direction to take. Riken always enjoyed delegating the decision-making whenever possible, on account of how complex of a job he always made of it, and so he turned to Altaira and spoke three simple words, the answer to which the rest of the story rested upon. "What now, milady?"