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[Vard Briar]

Timestamp: 31st of Autumn, 514 AV, 15th Bell The streets tended to turn people around but Vard had thought he was starting to see patterns. He was wrong. Vard had entered Alvadas proper to search for a blacksmith and he had found three florists, a carpenter and a butcher with one hand. It was as though Ionu was mocking his need by giving him paths to everything he didn't need. The Symenestra found himself at a crossroads in a backalley. Northward, he saw lights and heard music. Southward was from where he'd come and he could just see the market from there. From the east, a hot wind ruffled his hair and he likened it to the breath of Viratas. Vard began to walk down this corridor, and he began to walk faster when he saw the red glow near the end. Vard heard the clank of a hammer on steel now, and he began to whisper his thanks to Ionu. A blacksmith! He burst from the alley to find an Isur working the bellows of his forge, muscles bulging. "Excuse me, I don't suppose you might have a rapier that I could purchase?" The last few days, Vard had begun to conclude that he required a weapon. Especially after that ordeal in The Garden of No Return... He shivered at that memory but after thinking about it, he resolved that the quickness and light weight of a rapier would be to his advantage. It also hadn't gotten past Vard that the rapier was a gentleman's blade, all the more suited to his fighting style. The Isur looked him over, but said nothing. He continued working the forge for several more chimes and just when Vard began to look elsewhere for nearby metalsmiths he felt a tap on his shoulder. The Isur held up a beautifully crafted rapier with a silver handguard. The handguard was fashioned with wolf silhouettes and the blade itself looked keen enough to cut with a glance. "Twenty-five Mizas." The booming voice of the Isur offered. The Symenestra pulled out his coin purse but didn't count out his coins just yet. He had been rather light on gold since he had paid his expenses and he wondered if he could haggle his way to a lower price. "Fifteen." The Isur grunted, "That's hardly worth my craftsmanship, twenty or you walk." When he finished speaking, he turned slightly to show his Isurian arm which sparkled menacingly. Vard had a feeling that a disagreement with the Isur would hardly end with him "walking", as he'd probably be crawling. Vard sighed, and nodded in resignation. He needed the sword and he had no idea when he might come across another blade of this quality. He gave the man his money and the Isur gave him his rapier in its scabbard, a fine sheath indeed. It had similar wolf motifs and Vard chuckled. "What?" The Isur boomed. "Nothing, only Alvadas seems to have a fondness for wolves." Clearly his observation fell on deaf ears, since once the Isur knew that it had nothing to do with him he went back to the forge. Vard hefted his new sword, and decided it might be a good idea to test it out. Of course he probably needed to go back to his campsite as it was hardly classy to whip out a sword in public. With a sigh, Vard started down a large street in the hopes of maybe, just maybe finding the Sanity Center which would mark his way out of the city. He hung his sword to his belt and hoped it made him look at least a bit more formidable. The city is dangerous, and those with class needn't be without protection.

[Phobius]

"A falcon...?"

Phobius murmured the words before fully realizing it, tilting his head a little as the man in front of him nodded. "That's right, lad. They're reliable little beasties, they are," he replied, one hand resting on his hip while the other stayed on the counter next to him. "Smart, too. If you manage to get friendly with one, you've got a companion for life."

The Inartan boy's face was practically aglow with awe, though not necessarily from the man's words. He was an all-around interesting character, to be honest; tall and lanky, the man reminded Phobius a little bit of himself, save for the slightly-healthier tone of his skin and the shorter mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. Judging by his clothes, the boy had assumed that he was some sort of hunter, and was happy to find out that he'd been half-right. Indeed, the man made a living off of tracking and hunting wild game, but had decided as of late that he needed a better way of supporting himself. So he became a traveling merchant, specializing in selling quality animal furs, bones, and other "useful" bits that he could harvest from his kills.

Phobius hadn't really intended on wandering over to the man's stand. And when he did, he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the various animal pelts that were on display—I bet they're all really cold, now. Poor animals...they need that fur...

Overall, it was an uncomfortable place to be around. He would have avoided it, too, if his eyes hadn't caught sight of the bird that sat on a perch right next to the man.

Having lived in a place that revered most birds for a majority of his life, Phobius kind of expected to know what it was, right away. It was smaller than an eagle, but had about the same amount of ferocity in its beady, black eyes, and feathers that were speckled with flecks of brown and grey. Fascinated, the boy had turned on his heels and slowly walked toward it, an instinctual carefulness guiding his steps. Birds scared easily, after all, and he didn't want to accidentally spook it.

And the boy thought and thought, and was ashamed to soon admit that he couldn't remember what the creature was called. That was when the hunter-merchant had stepped in and introduced himself, as well as Celia, his falcon-friend. The man had continued to talk, after that, seemingly happy to go on about his life to a curious stranger, but Phobius' attention drifted between his moving mouth and the bird every other tick.

The boy turned back to the falcon, now, smiling a bit as he watched it preen some feathers underneath its wing. "She looks like she makes a great friend," Phobius said, sounding wistful.

"Aye, that she is. And she seems a bit fond of ye', too," the man commented, smirking. "Normally, Celia gets all uppity when strangers come around. ...You ever consider getting yourself one, lad?"

At the words, Phobius twisted his head and stared up at the man, his eyes widened in surprise. "Me...? Get a falcon...?"

"Why not? Yer one of those Inartans, aren't ye'? I've heard they're masters with birds."

"Gee, I...I guess. I had a lot of pet birds when I was little. But...where could I get a falcon? I didn't know you could buy birds at a store."

The man laughed a little, though it was lighthearted as opposed to mocking. "Of course ye' can! But it might take some searching. Good breeders aren't easy to come by, these days. ...as a matter of fact, if I were you, I'd buy myself an egg. A full-grown falcon might be too hard for ye' to train. The adults are stubborn, like that."

An egg...? It was a weird thought, really, and the confusion that it brought about was clear on the boy's face. The only eggs that Phobius had ever dealt with were ones he'd eaten for breakfast...and those didn't have baby birds in them.

At least, he hoped they didn't. He felt like he would have noticed by now if they did.

An array of questions already beginning to fill his brain, Phobius opened his mouth to speak, but froze as something out of the corner of his eye called for his attention. He turned his head and scanned the area, looking past the many other stands and tents until his gaze fell upon a familiar figure with familiar ashen-white hair.

A joyous smile grew on the boy's face. Turning back to the man, he reached out and grabbed his hand before giving it a hearty shake. "Thanks, mister! I've gotta go now, but I'll talk to you again, okay?"

"Alright. You enjoy the rest of your day, lad."

"I will. Goodbye! And goodbye, Celia!" Phobius said, giving the falcon a small wave before he whipped around and went bounding off to where he'd last seen his friend.

It'd been a quite a while since they'd last seen each other, hadn't it...? The boy tried as hard as he could, but he couldn't contain his happiness as he ran, waving his arms in the air and calling for him despite the fact that the Symenstra wasn't facing his way. "Krovard! Hey, Krovard! It's me, Phobius! Hey...!"

Had Phobius been going any faster, he just might have been able to bowl the poor man over. But he didn't, and swung his arms around his stomach from behind, giving him a greeting hug. "I feel like it's been forever! What're you doing out here? Buying things? Can I see?"


"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Vard Briar]

Vard hadn't had much luck in intimidating anyone with his big shiny sword but then, he supposed that unless he was twice his current size most people would assume he was incapable of using it. And most people he hated to admit, would be right. Vard began to think about who might be able to teach him how to fight and his mind turned to the events of the past season and his encounter with the morally ambiguous Dhani known as Yisanareysin. Perhaps if I could track him down... "Krovard! Hey, Krovard! It's me, Phobius! Hey...!" Vard's eyes grew wide. He knew that voi- "OOF!" Vard felt a pair of arms lock around his midriff and he felt the breath forced out his lungs. His only thought was, Thank the gods for shell armour! As soon as the Symenestra managed to pry himself loose of Phobius's unintentionally suffocating grip he exhale heavily and smiled. "It has been a while Versdabius. I trust you're doing well? I have in fact just made a most fortuitous purchase..." Vard chuckled inwardly, he had a flare for the theatrical after all. He leapt back from Phobius and grabbed hold of his rapier's hilt and yanked fast to whip out the blade. There was a rasping noise and the blade flew free of its scabbard, and then free from his grip. The Symenestra fumbled with the sword, his calm and confident expression thrown to the wind as he panicked. With some effort, he caught the sword and gingerly sheathed it once more. "Ahem, sorry about that. I haven't ever used this before." He offered an apologetic smile to his friend and held out his hand. "Shall we go see Starlight and try that again? Walk with me Versdabius." Class is about knowing what the hai you're doing!

[Darkalin Pinewood]

Darkalin heard a voice coming from down the long, curving road, that he had not heard in a very, very long time. In fact, the last he had heard of him, it had been spring. Oh, how he ran, flying down the street as fast as he could towards the voice. The young Sym didn't even remember what he had been out to do. Darkalin didn't stop to admire the finely made sculptures, or the wandering traders wares, but headed to the source of the unforgettable voice. He turned the corner, and saw Phobius and..... Who was this? Pale skin.... Long arms.... Are those fangs?....Is this..... Could it possibly be, that I am no longer an outcast among outcasts? Could it be so? He thought, as he saw that which he could only give life to in one word, a word of ancient roots, a word every Symenestra knows, and waits to hear desperately, for if you go without hearing it around here, then you are a type of alone that no human can understand. "Krova? Could it be? And....... Where did you learn to hold a sword? He asked in jest, walking towards the two. His smile was larger than usual, his teeth shining with happiness, his chuckle feeling almost infectious. For today, the spiders gathered, the courier laughed, and the Falcon soared. Today was the day Destiny approached Darkalin.

[Yisanareysin]

Dreaming of food, Rey had decided, was not the best sign. It wasn't that he was starving, because he wasn't. The mizas he had gotten from Kuvarakh was enough for him to buy everything he needed. But he was sick of human food. They overcooked their meat, and their flavors were often too intense for his sensitive tongue. He could go hunting. It was not yet later fall, and there were still rodents and rabbits aplenty. But they were so small, more snacks than anything else, and chasing them grew boring very quickly. Larger prey eluded him more often than not, and he'd narrowly avoided being trampled by a stag last time he'd tried. And hunting human... That would get him killed. So that left one other possible option. To be honest, buying from a butchers didn't seem too appealing to him. It lacked the intimacy of a personal kill, and the meat was never fresh enough for his tastes. But he needed meat, by Siku, and this seemed to be only safe way to get it without chasing vermin. So, to the market! Making his way out of the Cave, he found it was already middayish. Curse the obscenely late hours he kept. Ionu shone on him that day, as he found the Bizarre without much trouble. A pity he couldn't say the same for the food section. If there even was a food section. After trudging past stall after stall of trinkets, weapons, animals, more trinkets, jewelry, he was beginning to wonder if he was looking in the wrong place. Ionu knew that it wouldn't be the first time. Rey was just about to call it a day and just go back to his room to sleep when he heard a familiar voice call out a familiar name. He whirled around, just in time to see the little emergency snack crash into a familiar spider. Well well well. What a small place Alvadas was. So, it seemed the two knew each other. Rey felt a flicker of satisfaction when he noted that Phobius still called the spider "Krovard". Would it confused him if he heard someone calling the Symenestra... what was it again? Pryzavard, that was it. Heh. So, what to do? He could simply turn around and walk away to go look for his food. But food seemed so unimportant, now that something interesting was happening. He could walk up to them and say hello. But he hadn't seen much of the little courier since the... events of the previous season, and he suspected the boy would still be afraid of him. Vard, at least, had seemed to sort of understand, even if he didn't approve. As he was contemplating his choices, a third person joined the two. Rey narrowed his eyes as he studied the man. Pale and slender, and he spoke to Vard in a foreign tongue. Could it be... A shift in focus, and Rey's sense blossomed. He focused on the newcomer, turning his head away once he had the scent pinpointed. Yes, there it was. That same smell of oddness, of creeping scuttling, that same insect smell. No doubt, if Rey were in his Dhani form, the man would also have the same odd scent that Vard had had. Another Symenestra, he mused as he released his sense. How interesting. He would keep his distance, he decided. At least for now. He wanted to see how this would play out before he interfered. It was crucial to collect information before you acted. Turning away from them, he pretended to browse a merchant's wares, while keeping an ear out for their conversation. Fortunately, he already knew their voices. Hopefully they wouldn't spot him too quickly.

[Vard Briar]

Vard felt it coming. It wasn't even a physical sensation, it was closer to a premonition like some sixth sense warning him. He couldn't say what it was, except that it felt awfully familiar. "Krova? Could it be? And....... Where did you learn to hold a sword?" What?! Here of all places? Symenos, who speaks my tongue? Vard's eyes shot up and away from Phobius to see a grinning Symenestra with dark hair and red eyes. Grinning? Or leering? His smile was so wide that the Symenestra's fangs were in sharp relief against his more ordinary molars. A chilling bolt of energy ran down Vard's spine and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Another of my race... Some part of him still urged him to carry himself with the proper etiquette and so, ruffling his hair to mask his ears and taking a breath, he straightened to face his pale brother. Taking another split tick to switch his mind into Symenos, he began. "Krova, indeed I have acquired a sword but a few chimes before and much to my chagrin...I have not yet become learned enough to hold it properly. Lo, you bear your own impressive weapon! I shudder to think of what your foes face when your blood runs hot! Truly, I would be honoured to introduce myself to you as Krovard Briar, a gentleman and nothing more as of yet." He breathed out and a new thought occurred to him. Maybe this Symenestra can teach me the ways of swordplay? I had better wait a moment to make this offer, I can't bombard a stranger with too much information at once. Vard made a sweeping gesture in Phobius's direction and bowed slightly. "Allow me to introduce my most esteemed companion, Versdabius of Wind Reach. He has a most vibrant personality and his taste is impeccable!" Reverting back to Common, Vard glanced back to Phobius and clapped him on the back. "Hey Versdabius, good fortune comes to those who wait, yes? A fellow Symenestra has come to greet us!" More reservedly, Vard's hand casually rested on the pommel of his rapier and he reflected on the fact that it would probably be best to draw it only if absolutely necessary. He'd nearly eviscerated Phobius just trying to show it off after all! Truthfully, Vard was glad to see another familiar face in Alvadas's fickle streets but the Symenestra learned the hard way that familiar hardly equates friendly. He'd read somewhere that, "One must be weary when tending their flock, for one can never be sure that the wolves wear not the sheep's clothing." It was an interesting thought, but Vard doubted that a massive sword could be deemed subtle by anyone. Perhaps the sheep has the wolf's fangs? He shook his head, enough complicated thinking. Just...just wait. Vard's thoughts turned back to learning how to fight and then he returned to thinking about Reysin. Dhani, can turn into snakes. It's quite possible he's right under me. Vard couldn't resist the urge to glance down. Nothing. Still, he had best keep his eyes open. Alvadas had a funny way of bringing likeminded people together. And Class, is nothing without likeminded fellows to share such manners with.

[Phobius]

Phobius took a couple of steps back once Krovard had dislodged his arms from around his stomach, bouncing a bit excitedly on his toes as he stood. In all honesty, it seemed like it'd been ages ago since they'd first met at The Rose; the night had been an interesting and incredibly alarming one, but the end result had been the Inartan boy gaining whom he hoped would be a long-time friend.

To think, nearly an entire season had passed since then...time sure did fly when he wasn't aware of it.

He remembers me. That's good...isn't it? Phobius mused, the smile upon his face as bright as the midday sun, itself. Friends remember their friends...

Less than a tick later, Krovard suddenly sprang back from him, and the boy couldn't help but jump a little, startled. Immediately the worry that he'd done something wrong seized his body and made him go rigid, his smile quickly fading from his features. Then his eyes darted over to what the man seemed to have attached to his waist, and he watched as he withdrew the thin sword, the metal glinting in the warm light of the setting sun. So that's what he'd meant by a "purchase"...he'd gotten a sword for himself?

The tension in Phobius' muscles began to ebb, and the cheery smile returned to his face, only to widen as Krovard struggled with getting a good hold on his new weapon. "It sure is shiny," he commented as the man put it back where he'd pulled it out from. "And thin, too. Kinda like paper. I bet you could cut a lot of stuff with it."

People were probably on that unwritten list of things that could be cut, but Phobius' mind hadn't gotten that far, yet, nor would it ever; as far as he was concerned, Alvadas was a safe place with plenty of friendly people around. Unless Krovard planned on venturing out into the woodlands or some lands further north, the boy couldn't see why he'd buy a sword to defend himself with. There was nothing he needed to defend himself from.

Save for things in the Underground, maybe. The boy had worked hard at pushing the memories of that unpleasant place out of his head, and had pretty much succeeded up until this point. Standing there and blinking at the sword, now, Phobius couldn't help but wonder if his friend ever intended on wandering down there, someday. Maybe he'd done so, already. Maybe he didn't want to. Hopefully, he didn't want to.

Mind drifting with his newly-forming worries, Phobius hadn't noticed that he'd zoned out a little, and had to bring himself back to the present as Krovard offered a hand. Right...Starlight was his horse. They'd talked about her briefly, but the boy had never had the opportunity to meet her, before. She was sure to be nice, and he kind of hoped to be able to introduce Araphos, at some point. Ar-Ar could use another horsey-friend.

Phobius eagerly nodded, and went to take his hand. Then a somewhat familiar, soft-spoken voice greeted his ears and made him turn his head, the move akin to a curious dog's with its ears perked upright. Standing a few feet away from them was a man who seemed incredibly happy about something. Even the odd language that he'd spoken in had sounded happy. Phobius stared at him for a moment, trying to place the voice and the appearance, when it soon hit him. Darkalin! That's his name! I knew I knew him...! he triumphantly mused.

Then Krovard began speaking to him, using what sounded like the exact same soft words and tones. Phobius hadn't noticed it at first, but now that he focused a bit harder on their features, shifting his gaze from one tall, pale man to the next, he started to see how similar they were. Hadn't Krovard told him something about his race, before...? It started with an "S", and the boy was pretty sure that it had an "m" in it, but he...he couldn't really remember.

Either way, it looked like he and Darkalin were the same. Did that make them brothers of some sort?

The boy watched as his friend continued to talk with his other friend, happy that they'd managed to find each other and beaming a little when he was gestured to.

"I've seen him, before," Phobius said when Krovard finished speaking, sending a warm smile over to the other Symenstra. "We met a long time ago and talked. He's really, really nice!"

The boy considered saying the man's name, too, but thought better of it and held his tongue. The man could introduce himself if he wanted to.


"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Darkalin Pinewood]

Darkalin was quite reluctant to tell the somewhat embarrassing truth that he was probably out of practice with his sword. "Well.... One could say that none of my enemies live any longer. I am Darkalin Pinewood, just a Young Symenestra finding his place in a world of honor." He said, sticking out his hand. He continued to smile, but didn't really understand why Krovard needed so much....What was the word..... Formality. It seemed so... Unnecessary, but, then again, he had always heard that nobles and the like, enjoy things that are unnecessary. Maybe Krovard is a noble? He certainly seems like a noble. Nice, detailed, slim blade that Nobles seem to love. He speaks with a certain formality, and seems to seek to... He did not know how to put it. Nevertheless, he felt like this Krovard fellow wasn't telling Darkalin the full of it. He looked toward Phobius, and thought of how he may have tricked the young Sym. The world felt suddenly full of intrigue and lies... He quickly switched himself to common, seeking to catch his no longer completely trustworthy "friends", off guard. "I know Phobius. I met him way back in the Spring." Attempting to change the topic, he thought of the strange storyteller, rumored to have come from the Alvadas Underground, a place where only the most brave dare to go. "I've heard of a place where you can put your blade to the test. I think it's called, The Underground.." He said, almost casually.

[Vard Briar]

Vard grinned outwardly but inwardly his stomach turned. "None of my enemies live any longer?" I suppose I should expect no less from a fellow of my kin. Nevertheless, he could simply have few enemies. After all, he speaks of honour. Vard took Darkalin's hand and shook firmly but not with gusto. "Well met, master Pinewood. I too walk this world in search of decency, may we both find it sooner than later." The Symenestra released his grasp and bowed to Darkalin. It was a quick and high bow, born more of general politeness than any actual desire to display respect. Vard's glance roamed beyond Darkalin's shoulder and his gaze refocused. Darkalin's voice faded into the background. Silver hair... He's short. No, it couldn't be! Yisanareysin? It had certainly been a while and after encountering Phobius and meeting this new Symenestra, Vard would not put it past Ionu to bring them together. The person seemed to be browsing the market, but Vard had always known that the Dhani's motives were questionable. He opened his mouth to call out when he heard what Darkalin was talking about. "It's called the Underground." That certainly piqued his interest but he drew a breath and cupped his mouth and yelled across the way. "Reysin! Is that you?" He offered an apologetic smile to Darkalin and Phobius, "I think I see somebody I know over there. Would you care to accompany me over to see them? Master Pinewood, tell me more of the Underground. Why is it a good place to hone my skill?" He had gathered that that was what the Symenestra had been suggesting when he mentioned the place, especially as Vard hadn't heard of the locale before. Vard strode across the crowded road and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. He was beginning to become a man of action, otherwise he doubted he would have purchased a weapon in the first place. He adjusted his scabbard on his belt and felt strangely reassured by the weight at his hip. He no longer felt as though he was surrounded by enemies, and even if he was he was well-equipped to deal with them. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his knuckles tightened on his rapier's hilt. Silently he suppressed the memories, mentally obliterating a particularly violent image that recurred in his mind. The girl was covered in blood, drowning in it. "Shyke." Vard whispered, and he lifted his head. Yes, he was sure of it. They had found themselves a Dhani. "Greetings Yisanareysin, what brings you to the market on this fine afternoon? I daresay it is quite cooler than we last met but you probably aren't pleased about that." Vard bowed, deeper and longer than before. Reysin had after all, saved his life. Class is about recognition, and seeking out those who deserve it!

[Yisanareysin]

Rey wasn't sure what language Vard and the newcomer were speaking, but he was fairly sure Vard was being overly formal again. It is my most honorable digificariational pleasure to meet you once more thusly or something like that. The little spider would have made a decent Eypharian, squeamishness and naiveté aside. Idly, he picked up one of the daggers on the table in front of him, pretending to test the weight and balance as he eavesdropped. More talking, confirming that the newcomer was a Symenestra as well, and then the surprising reveal that Phobius knew the newcomer as well. How interesting. And suspicious. Three people known to Phobius, all happen to be at the same place at the same time as the little courier. Too contrived a coincidence. Although, he suppose the all knew Vard as well. But Phobius had approached Vard, so that would indicate the spider was not the one weaving the web for once. But then the newcomer had approached Vard. And no one had approached Rey, and he certainly wasn't going to approach then until he was good and ready. Alright so that thought had led nowhere, and Phobius or Vard were probably not engineering some complex plan. Although that would have been fun. The newcomer was speaking now, confirming both that he knew Phobius, and that he didn't know him that well. The Underground again. That was going to be one interesting trip, if the way Phobius had acted last time they were down there was any indication. Although having a giant Dhani there might have had something to do with that. Perhaps the boy would fare better if - Rey jerked up, startled, as his name was called out. He groaned internally. He was the worst at hiding. Well, the cat was out of the bag. Now what? There was no pretending that he was someone else. He had no disguise, and he'd already reacted to his name. He couldn't run, either. Well, he could, but he wouldn't. He still sort worked for Kuvarakh on the side, and he was bound to see Phobius at some point, and then he'd have to explain himself. Besides, it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to them. He'd just sort of hoped he could do it on his own terms. So, talk to them then. Pretend he hadn't been listening in on their conversation. Setting the dagger down, he started to turn to face Vard, then stopped. His left hand came up, smoothing out the hair that curled across the right side of his face. He forgot about the scar sometimes, really. He only hid it for practical purposes, so he wouldn't be so noticeable. It wasn't like he was sensitive about the line of pale, slightly puckered skin that ran from near the outer corner of his eye down to his cheek. Maybe just a little bit. Either ways, no need to surprise them with it. Let them ask. Maybe see what Phobius's reaction would be, especially if Rey elaborated a little on just how he'd gotten it. He turned when Vard spoke to him, and grinned widely at the Symenestra. "It's good to see you too, Pryzavard. No, the cold does me no favors, but I'd imagine it does wonders for you." His eyes slid past the spider to rest on Phobius, and he let the grin slip from his face, and tensed his shoulders ever so slightly. Just enough that Vard would probably be able to spot it. "Ah. Phobius." He murmured, internally congratulating himself for remembering appropriate body language this time.