Closed [Sunset Quarters] Misfits

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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[Sunset Quarters] Misfits

Postby Edreina on February 10th, 2014, 3:21 am

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The 70th of Winter, 513AV
Midday

Their Shared Room in The Sunset Quarters

"I know that this is not your usual area of expertise... but we could really use your help..." The scrawny trio had sought Razkar and Edreina out as they took their midday meal in their room. There were two boys with a bone structure that indicated relation and a slight, gray-eyed girl who's flickering glances led Edreina to believe that she quite fancied the elder brother. The younger brother was speaking now, as he had most of their meeting. The brothers shared hair and eyes of a supple brown that reminded Edreina of warm leather and the time she had spent riding from Syliras to Zeltiva.

Their request was a simple one, on the surface. They were asking Edreina and Razkar to escort them to the mystical island of Sahova where they could apparently learn the magical arts. There was an academy there, they had been told, and such was where they thought they belonged; the rough city of Sunberth did not agree with them. With single-minded curiosity - A city devoted to magic? Such a thing existed? She had to see it! - the slim Svefra had decided early on that she would argue the point of the trio if Razkar had any qualms. It would be a shorter trip than their last, if the roughly-drawn map they were shown was any indication.

"Sahova is a city of undead Nuits and mages..." the girl admitted in a small voice, reluctantly meeting Edreina's curious gaze. "But I would still feel safer there than here." A strange emotion flickered into the girl's eyes and Edreina nearly recognized it, or at least a hint of it.

Sighing gently, she turned to Razkar who sat on the bed beside her. "Razkar and I will talk this over." There was no room for any disagreeing in her voice, but she decided to toss him a bone in case he had some sort of valid points. "I cannot promise that we will be able to do this for you," her eyes returned to the middle boy, the younger. "If I cannot, I promise to find someone who will take you, at the very least."

There was an undeniable spark of hope in six eyes. Young though they all were, Edreina noticed that their time in Sunberth had aged them even more than it had her. This was not the place for young minds to prosper; it was the city of Brutes and Thieves.

"If you'll leave us... We will find you tonight at Synaset with some kind of an answer, and perhaps a plan."

"Thank you so much..." The eldest said in his rich bass voice. He would make a wonderful Hypnotist... the Svefra mused, remembering that he rarely spoke and, even then, his words were always well chosen.

With that, the trio left, letting the door click gently on their way.

"What do you think?" Edreina asked finally, laying back on the bed with a groan. Was this what it felt like to be a Lia?
~
The cure for anything is salt water:
sweat, tears, or the sea.

~
Last edited by Edreina on February 15th, 2014, 6:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Sunset Quarters] Misfits

Postby Razkar on February 15th, 2014, 5:32 pm

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The Myrian listened with as neutral an expression as he could manage, but when mention was made of Sahova, he couldn't stop his face creasing into a sullen, suspicious frown. He'd heard of that place. An isle as damned and forsaken in its way as Ravok, the city of dark cathedrals to the most depraved of the barbarian gods. Razkar had heard only whispers of Sahova, and most said it was a place of evil wyrd twisted into medicine, sciences...

And this is where they wish to go? Gods, was I ever so young as to be that naive?

"What do you think?"

He sat in silence until the young trio had left and Edreina asked her question, stretching out on their bed, stern and composed countenance falling away as she relaxed... and Razkar gave her a sardonic smile as he got up and walked to their table.

"I think you are missing the first point of being a sellsword," he said, pouring them both a few fingers of Lethshine from the stash she'd procured in Zeltiva, "Namely, you ask for payment first. How much will it cost? Can they pay for expenses?"

A sharp pink tongue snapped out at him for a second but all it provoked was a roll of his eyes. Never make a mercenary, this one. Edreina was a great bursting bag of questions, not a maw of avarice, fixated on gold or jewels. She wanted to know, to learn, to understand and experience and such desires... they didn't lend her fear, or caution. The world was filled with things for her to learn, and that was all that mattered.

Razkar was not the same. He knew there was much to fear in the world. He and his kind were one of them, after all.

"Oh, and I suppose the idea of going to the Isle of Djed is... just no-never-mind to you, hmm?" His smirk spread as her eyes flickered from him a moment, but when she looked back, it seemed to harden on his lips. "We get them there and we come back, Edri. That's the way it must be. Neither of us are equipped to fight the djed-wielders on their own ground."

Her mouth opened and his hand snapped up. Razkar was still unused to giving commands to a female, or trying to... but he would be firm on this one. Much as he was learning of the wyrd, he was still a babe amid giants, compared to the shadowy masters of Sahova, and...

You won't be able to protect her there. Skill with a blade counts for naught against those who can turn air and water and fire into weapons.

"It is too dangerous, either way, and if half of what I have heard of the Dead Walkers is true, I do not wish to be around them for long." Images of Ignotus and Isolde flashed through his mind; the first cold and calculating, the second frightened and naive despite her centuries of age. "They cannot be trusted... and I will not trust them around you."
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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[Sunset Quarters] Misfits

Postby Edreina on February 22nd, 2014, 3:50 am

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"I'm not asking you to spend a season there... Just to let me see it. Just one day before we leave... It's a place cloaked in mist and mystery in my mind. You know how that tortures me so." Her blue eyes found the roof, as if the aged plaster there were a painting of the isle. "Besides. The ship will have to restock and see if there is anything in Sahova that will make their return voyage profitable."

Smiling, Edreina sat up and moved behind Razkar, wrapping her arms about his torso so that her cheek was against his warm, dark back. "Just a short while... And then we can sail back to Zeltiva... or Sunberth. Anywhere in the world will suit me so long as you are there." Her lips pressed against the base of his neck for an instant before she stood, stretching with arms far overhead, as if she could touch the sky through the floors above.

"Now... what are we to do, my sword and shield?" It had taken awhile, but finally she had found a Myrian phrase that felt pleasing upon her tongue and seemed to suit him. "I know I should have asked how much they would pay us, but it's really up to how grand a deal on transportation. I doubt their budget is as much as we are used to receiving, but it is better than none at all..." And then, mostly to herself: "My kin can provide transport... but striking a deal with them won't be easy..." Svefra may not have had the greatest concept of ownership, but they knew how to receive as much or more than they deserved for their efforts.

"Lead and I will follow." He had done this before. In the end, it was best to let him coordinate this foray.



~
The cure for anything is salt water:
sweat, tears, or the sea.

~
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[Sunset Quarters] Misfits

Postby Razkar on February 22nd, 2014, 10:02 pm

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Razkar sighed and his face contorted and yet there was no true malice behind either action. She was always so... reasonable. How dare she! Being so logical and pragmatic! That was his job... and only when it suited him.

But she's right. Not like we're going to just swing by the docks, hurl the kids off onto the docks and then sail away. The boat will need to restock and we'll need to escort them to... wherever they wish to go. Always so hard to argue with her like this... especially when she uses that name...

Sword and shield. Razkar smiled when he first heard that, wondering if the Svefra was subtly mocking his thick disdain for shields. But he understood, after a while, the significance of the two words together.

Protector and warrior. Willing to defend her and fight for her. Whichever was necessary.

The Myrian sighed again and patted the thin, strong fingers entwined against his stomach. The warmth of her cheek against his back was like Syna; comforting and bone-deep. He could have stood like that for bells and not regretted his time... but she was pressing him. Gently, true; carefully, yes, but was that not how an ocean could wear down cliffs?

"Lead and I will follow."

He snorted and turned to face her, taking care that she could keep her embrace locked around him, but now his arms encircled her lower, hands folded at the small of her back, pushing her into his chest-

-and his lips, as he bent down to savor her.

"Mmmhmm," he mumbled, managing to sound wry and sardonic even without words, until his lips parted hers and his forehead rested against the soft pillow of red locks instead, "Like you have not already charted our course. Treat me not like one of your Svefra boys, who you can easily fool."

Before she could manage a response, Razkar grinned and hitched her forward again, grinding her briefly against his hardness (and damn, that didn't take long), stifling her response, letting his head roll back, voice louder as if he were declaring his defeat to the gods, not just this one tenacious mortal.

"Fine! To the Isle of the Dead we go, I suppose." He looked back down to her, eyes now hard and set, tone rapping out instructions, content to have an objective once again. "We shall go to the Docks, see about a willing boat with a captain who won't rob us blind the moment we lose sight of land. We'll wait until the younglings come back and work out a price, supplies..."

So much to decide and collect, but Razkar did not regret that. The DuFarro contract had been... settled. He no longer had to worry about tracking some damned elusive Sagallite through the rabbit warren that was Sunberth. What other plans did he have? None... not in this land, anyway. More and more he was being led by Edreina, and much as he felt comfortable in the role of a female taking control...

This place is not for you. These lands. This role. You belong in the jungle. Only there can your destiny truly be revealed to you.

"Busy day ahead, my wave," he said with a wry grin, breaking their embrace with a peck on her lips and whipping his cloak around his shoulders, "Lets get it started, shall we?"
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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[Sunset Quarters] Misfits

Postby Edreina on February 28th, 2014, 6:53 am

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Razkar was, at times, the king of mixed signals. As he pressed his hardened length against the flat between her hips, the Myrian also redirected the conversation in a direction would have found favorable moments before. He started to rattle off directions for their day and Edreina took an entire tick to catch up after having her mind push off onto an entirely different course.

"Busy day, indeed," she mused, eyes narrowing as plans and considerations drifted across her mind. There would be the wages of the sailors, provisions, and whatever else they needed. Gods she did not envy those who had been in charge of the original journey from Zeltiva to Sunberth. "I'd rather we sail with my kin. It may take us a few days longer to find some with a suitable ship, but it would be worth the safety." Ankles strengthened by a rolling deck allowed the Svefra to drift down the uneven steps and out the door as she spoke.

And so they traveled to the docks, through the faint gap in the crowd Razkar forged. It was smaller than that which he cut in civilized cities such as Syliras or Zeltiva, but still enough to prove that the scarred people of Sunberth knew danger when they saw it. The stiff, briny air coming up from the sea was welcome to Edreina's nostrils and her lungs filled themselves slowly and deeply each time a breeze danced near. A smile ghosted across her lips as that flat, endless expanse of blue came into view. It was suppressed ever so gently until only the subtlest curve remained.

Unspoken consent dictated that, in this situation, she would do most of the talking unless Razkar was, for some reason, needed.

As always, the docks were abuzz with the activity of merchants, crooks, theives, drunks, whores looking to make an easy miza on men returning from days at sea, and even, you guessed it, sailors! At a first, cursory glance,she was dismayed to see that there were no distinctly Svefran vessels about. No shells hanging along mainsails, strung to clink merrily in the wind, no brightly painted sails by some of the more artistically inclined of her kin, no chittering of Tavan pods, either. But, it was always worth a closer look. It was not uncommon for the blue-eyed sea-folk to acquire the ships of others. At the very least, she could leave word with a dockmaster if even there were one.

Ovek, it seemed, was smiling upon them this day.

Down near the end of the dock was a rather small fishing vessel with a comparatively large cabin perched haphazardly on the deck. There sat five, working over some mangled net and cursing at one another in quick Fratavan. By their scant dress and waving tattoos, the were unmistakably Svefra. Apparently, it was the helmsman's fault for leading them into a storm, someone whose name was uttered to quickly for Edreina to catch's fault for not pulling the net back in on time and someone else's fault for being drunk. Amidst the bickering, one of the two women stopped and looked up, pinched frown melting into a curious half-smile. Glittering blue eyes as wild as the sea she sailed found Edreina's, then drifted to Razkar thoughtfully. Even with her mark hiding upon the small of her back at that moment, Laviku-marked were always able to tell one another by sight. "What brings you this way, pod-kin? With such muddied company?" At this point, the rest of her group had looked up, hands stilling upon the hemp.

"We seek a ship to help us reach Sahova." There was a displeased rumbling from one of the men, but the rest remained intent,"Which way will the winds be blowing you?"

"South,"
the elder woman answered, now. Edreina sighed, dismayed, but attempted to keep the conversation going, at least. Perhaps this was not an entirely lost cause.

It was then that she noticed a tattered sail not far from the net they were slaving over. "What misfortune befell you?"

The woman clucked her tongue, shaking her head, something sad passed through her eyes. "It was a bad storm. Some left to be with Laviku... We were separated from others. Our ship was damaged... so now we sit, fixing what we can and earning the coin for the rest." There was no joy in her voice, only an acceptance of what was necessary. Wrinkled appeared around her eyes as they squinted to better make out the red-haired woman on the dock. "What pod is yours, young one?" Polite curiosity let the woman speak this time, no more.

"Whitewave... And you?"

That brought a curious eye once more.

"You're far from your waters," she commented, setting the net in her lap as if still hands would better let her regard Edreina. "We are Whorlingwinds." Ironic.

A red head bobbed solemnly. She had found an opening. "And I have farther yet to go. But first, I must procure passage."

The door slammed shut in her face. "I wish you all of the luck."

True as her people were, they could be so very self-absorbed. Or perhaps the woman was wise enough to know that she held the only Svefra-manned boat in port and Edreina would shortly seek an offer. If so, she would not be let down."You say you're stuck here until repairs are made... What if I pay for them? Get your ship back in order and buy you a new net to boot?You'll be able to go back out to sea sooner and I'll have my passage."

Sparkling eyes were satisfied, but a barterer's wizened lips would not let it be voiced. "You're making us sail to Sahova... far from an inviting place..."

Edreina sighed, arms crossing over her chest. "If you make haste on the journey there, you can take your time fishing on your way back. Should not take more than a handful of days if you don't want your fish to spoil."

The man to her left sat up a bit straighter, pride showing in his features. "We have little worry for that. My grandfather taught me how to make ice from my own body." He acted as if it was something utterly new or as rare as a white dolphin. Maybe it was and Edreina just had a habit of meeting people with skills in working Djed. In any case, Edreina cut in smoothly.

"Then perhaps even you would find something of interest upon the island. Maybe a way to further your Reimancy." Bright pink chagrin colored his walnut flesh as the Lia sent him a sharp look.

Finally, she conceded with a sigh. "You have it, then. 200 gold coins for the repairs to my ship and to give us each a few coins for our own professions. We have one more hammock in the cabin, one of you will have to bring a mat to sleep on deck." Edreina blushed, then, realizing she had not mentioned the three other passengers. Once this was brought up, the Lia groaned in outright frustration, raising the price to 220 gold-rimmed Mizas just for the trouble of having to step about bodies.

Frowning faintly, Edreina reiterated the conversation to fill in any gaps Razkar's paltry Fratava had left, ending it with a question of his opinion.



~
The cure for anything is salt water:
sweat, tears, or the sea.

~
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Edreina
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[Sunset Quarters] Misfits

Postby Razkar on February 28th, 2014, 11:05 pm

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In the past, when she was first teaching him, Razkar likened the sensation to having a towel stuffed around your heard, covering your ears. Most words, almost all, were intelligible gibberish; the mind found no root nor basis for their meaning. Only a handful slid past the ignorant barrier and were recognized.

But as time went on, the towel become looser... and now, staring intently and focusing on lips and hands as well the mere words, Razkar found himself following most of what was flashing back and forth. The hands, especially, were important. Edreina had told him that they could reveal as much about a person's moods and wants as the tone of their voice.

Resigned, this lot. Bad fortune had struck them and now they are adrift. Their boat his battered and they are among the barbarians... but they still know how to barter.

Razkar gave a small smile as hands and fingers were flashed up between Edreina and her sea-kin, higher and lower, negotiating back and forth. This was no surprise: even a drowning Svefra would haggle of the price of the rope to save him.

Then Edreina came back and relayed all that had transpired. Razkar's eyes glittered with pride as she spoke. He'd followed almost all of it! "Inviting" was a new word to add to his Fratava vocabulary. The price surprised him, too, but while the Svefra loved to haggle, he knew that they had little use for money, anyway.

For one thing, they made their own way without it. For another, their idea of "ownership" was so loose (re: nonexistent) that simply taking what they wanted wasn't unheard of.

"I impressed, my love," he rumbled in a guttural, growing tongue far removd from the giggling stream her own brought to mind, "Tell them they'll have time to make their repairs to the ship. We need to gather supplies, and that will come out of our pockets, too..."

The thought troubled him, but not for long. They weren't transporting these Denvali for free, after all. They'd have their own coin, and he knew whatever they paid would be more than enough to pay the Svefra, ration them and leave enough for themselves.

Every man has a price, Razkar thought, knowing it was true but still despising the philosophy behind it. If he were back in the jungle, he would not require such barbarism... but he was not. And what they need still requires mizas. So they shall have it, and we shall have them.

"Let them know," he said firmly, switching to Common but his tone clear that his mind had already moved on to other matters. This one was for her to settle. It wasn't dismissive, though; it was trust. She could handle this, so he didn't worry about it. "Then we'll get to the market."

Ah. "Other matters". A long and varied life of raw materials, supplies, provisions and other such essentials, all available in the sprawling open-air market across the river.

There, the roles would be reversed, and Razkar would be the one plunging into action, growling and cajoling among the merchants.

Then, to cap the day, they'd find the kids, and get their damn pay.
Image
My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
User avatar
Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
Posts: 1795
Words: 2242619
Joined roleplay: October 8th, 2012, 12:04 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Myrian
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 9
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Trailblazer (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)


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