PM to join [World's End Grotto] Gratitude Overdue (Pulren)

[Kaie]

16th Day of Spring 515 AV
18th Bell

Like a stray dog once again, the Myrian thought bitterly from her shadowy corner table. Candles hanging from above swung gently along with the sudden whoosh of air as a door was opened and then shut again, the spring wind whooshing in for the split tick it was granted access to the innards of the inn. The Grotto wasn't particularly busy that night. Locals and travelers alike found their place within to find comfort in reputable food and drink. However, these individuals were scattered. Small groups of townies took up these few chairs and that, and wanderers lingering closer to the bar tools and spread from one another. The savage knew better.

"Zeltiva does not welcome Myrians with open arms," Matthew's words echoed plainly in her head, and she would be a fool to forget them.

It was back to the old grind for the young woman. Once again she'd have to face down the suspicions, the distrustful and hateful stares, the fearful accusations when something unfortunate happened while she was around. All new faces, but nothing new at all. Thus, she'd keep a head about her and went back to concealing herself the best she could. Her cloak hood was up over his curly brown hair, the article of clothing hiding her traditional Falyndar attire. The only thing she couldn't hide was the hue of her skin and the accent in her speech, but as far as she was from the west, she could only hope most sailors hadn't the pleasure of acquainting themselves with her kind before. When she was lucky, she was brushed off as a Benshira or a Mixed Blood with that of heritage of the tanned Chaktawe or Eypharians.

Steam rose from the fresh, though mostly eaten soup before her. Kaie ripped off a decent piece from the half loaf of bread beside it. She sopped up some of the soup's contents before taking a bite. Her right hand gripped the full tankard of the strange drink she'd been told was called Kelp Beer. The Myrian took a long drink from it...and nearly spit the shyke across the table. Gods be damned! The petch is this?! She tipped the tankard toward herself for inspection, grimacing disdainfully at the substance. The jungle-born sniffed at it and shook her head.

I might actually miss Sunberth after all...

[Pulren Marsh]

After arranging his cottage a little and parting ways with the Sarge, Pulren felt as if he had done enough and thought he might enjoy a few bells at the Grotto. He had to report to patrol the next day, so might as well spend the rest of a good day with good company. His shoulders and arms were still burning a little from the effort, but it was a good burn. With Syna at his back and his home soil beneath his feet, he felt pretty great about how things were going. Having Sunberth and its problems so far away certainly helped as well.

Walking into the Grotto, it looked like the typical evening crowd. Nothing too raucous, the locals banding together and the visitors floating on the periphery, wary for company.Rolling his neck around he noticed what was clearly a familiar Myrian sitting at the bar, her curls a dead giveaway as well as her bronzed skin. He was glad to see her alone, as the trip had proven disagreeable with the appearance of the simpering mark, Silander. Even worse was the fact that he followed Kaie around like a puppy, loyal to her whims. Made perfect sense, really. So not seeing him gave Pulren the extra good feelings he needed to take up his own spot next to her.

Looking over, he saw that she was downing some beloved kelp, soon after making the telltale face of someone who had never had any before. "It's an acquired taste, for sure. Most Zeltivans just down it quick so that you are too drunk to care about the taste."When the barkeep looked at him, he shook his head when the man pointed at the kelp. "Good ale for me, please. My friend will probably like one as well. Keep 'em coming." He put down a gold miza, which was enough for the pair to drink until they needed a room. "Works for me, Guardsman. Always happy to keep you guys watered." When the pair of ales returned, he nodded and lifted his mug to the barkeep. "Happier still when we come to break up fights, yeah?" The pair chuckled as Pulren took his first drink since returning to Zeltiva.

[Kaie]

The voice sent the head of the Myrian shooting up in search of the source. Already did a smile curl up her lips at the very sound. Pulren, she identified the man before her amber eyes found him sliding in beside her. Her bronze hand rested over the hole of the tankard, finger tapping along its side. "Tastes like the only way to do it," she laughed, turning in her seat to better face the man. He too looked better since they wandered from the bowels of the ship. No longer was he dressed the part of common street thug, either. She gestured from the bar keep to the Wave Guard member.

"Look at you now, Guardsman! Must be a nice change, having a city's support rather than their fury. I'll bet your Wave Guard is awfully glad to have you back, no?"
Following Pulren's advice, the woman made a snap decision and tossed back the kelp beer. She drank quickly, fighting away the grimace that threatened to come. The tankard came down with a thud upon the table. She wiped stray foam from her lips. "I forgot how indifferent you sailors are with your drinks. I've always admired it." Brow rose when she spotted the golden Miza Pulren put down.

Her hand shot out, clamping down upon the coin before it could be taken. The other hand dipped into her cloak, and a golden Miza of her own was procured. She returned the Guardsman his money once the bar keep had come around to pick up what she'd offered him. "Pretty sure I promised to buy you a drink if we ever found ourselves in a tavern. Besides, a man who saves my life does not pay for ale. Not with me." Kaie cleared her throat, clutching one of the ales that had been given to the pair. Her left index finger wandered the woody lines of the table, searching. "I never properly thanked you for that, you know, you getting me on the ship and all. I'm in your debt. I hope this is at least a start."

[Pulren Marsh]

It was good to see a friendly face. Better to see a pretty one, especially in the guise of the fierce warrior he had seen in battle. Few women commanded Pulren's full respect as well as attention. The only thing he couldn't figure out was her interest in Aider, but if Pulren had learned anything, nothing lasted forever. He was glad to see her turn to face him, catching her bold eyes in the flickering light of the candles inside. They seemed to be brown but carry a kind of amber fire within. Choosing not to stare too hard, he watched her kick back the drink with ease. Another aspect to appreciate.

Her words of the Guard inspired him. He trule was glad to be back at home and in uniform, his head nodding in assent before he replied to her. Taking a long sip of his own drink, he replied, "Absolutely. I am glad to be back with my brothers and sisters in the Guard. We fight together and sometimes die together. It's a good feeling to be home." Taking another drink, he thought about those words, knowing that she was far away from her own home. Sitting the mug back down he looked at her with a serious tone. "I'm sorry, Kaie. I know you probably miss your own people and home. I'm sure you'll see them all again and feel the same pride that I do." With his apology and well wishes, he smiled again and took another drink.

Her remark about sailors caught him funny, a staccato chuckling giggle escaping his lips. "I'm only a book sailor, Kaie. Crazy, I know, but riding them, swimming under them, fighting on them, but sailing? Not so far." He watched the miza exchange and he took the miza back from her, making sure his fingers brushed her own in the exchange. The smallest degree of intimacy still carried its echoes. Raising his hands in mock defense, he laughed. "Whatever Kaie wants, Kaie gets. No complaints here.", he added, pocketing the golden miza. He watched as she took on her own serious manner, listening and giving her his full attention. Placing his hand on her shoulder, Pulren tugged at the hood so that it fell back and revealed her wildness. "There's a start."

Taking another drink, his courage swelling, he decided that manners were important but honesty was more important. "How about telling me how you ended up with that mark, Aider?"

[Kaie]

The Myrian woman couldn't help but grin. Lost the camaraderie with the Scars dismantling in Sunberth, but found it again with his fellow Guardsmen in Zeltiva, she mused thoughtfully. Part of her still yearned for what she'd lost the day Orvin was slain. It was wrong in that she was in Sunberth rather than Taloba, fighting beside barbarians rather than kin, but right all the same. She missed the adrenaline. Another season in the City of Anarchy woud've driven her mad with paranoia, having to constantly look over her shoulder. Dira waited for her around every dark alley corner. She would risk prematurely meeting the Goddess of Death so long as she remained fighting beside her chosen family. Yet those days had long since passed. The leadership had gone its own way and her fellow Scars safely tucked away from the horrors that once preyed upon them. It was only in that respect she found peace. And yet something was still troubling her...

She took a long drink from her alcohol. There was a melancholy in her stare as she found comfort in the familiar face before her. "Thank you, Pulren. I only hope I'll have the same privilege you do in your own homeland, returning so that I too may fight beside my own people. Hopefully I won't need any more undercover Zeltivan Wave Guards to haul me over a ship's side before I reach my jungle's shores." Smile turned teasing as she watched the man take a drink from his own mug. The Myrian's eyes narrowed a bit as she struggled with the new concept. A sailor who does not truly sail. It was an odd thing to consider. "I've heard properly sailing and commanding a vessel takes a special talent. Sometimes we have to focus on other skills instead," was all she had to offer before she found solace in her drink once more.

That's when the Wave Guard did the most curious thing. The next tick his hand was reaching across the small space between them, and the cloak hood always so carefully thrown over her head was removed. Brown curls were liberated to cascade over her shoulders. A brow was arched at the man, trying to distinguish what sort of start his actions had exactly achieved. No longer hidden in the cloaked shadows, the bronze, exotic features of her face were offered for all see. All was a puzzle to the woman...until she started to put pieces together rather slowly when his ultimate question finally came.

Aider.

Her smile faded some, but it was not out of maleficence or displease at his prying. Eyes wandered upward toward the ceiling as she tried to decide exactly how she would answer. The truth is usually a good start, Myrian. The woman shrugged. "I kept running into the Nykian over the years in the woods. One day he showed up in Sunberth, jobless, homeless, basically Miza-less. I let him stay with me, and apparently, he somehow found the Scars." A strangeness entered her tone at the very end. She never outright asked Aider how he'd been allowed into their merry band, or why. The man rarely stirred up trouble, and to her knowledge, he hadn't secured any renown in his new occupation that would probably merit Fallon's intrigue. After all, Zandelia had been the Spider and the gatherer of secrets.

Perhaps Kaie had been too eager to accept the relief in that she no longer had to lie once the man was in the fold. No more excuses for coming back so late, bloodied and scratched. No more playing off the errors in her white lies. Perhaps then it had also to do with the fact that so much had happened. Enemies had emerged from the dark during that time. The looming perils that awaited each Scar overrode her curiosity. So consumed was she with spilling blood and guarding her new family, she'd forgotten to concern herself with other details. "I never asked him about that, now that I think about it. Never thought to ask Fallon either. Truthfully, I was convinced for a long while he'd never see the end of the season even with my protection."

[Pulren Marsh]

The sweet, sweet buzz of ale, simmering and dancing through his body, awakening his heart and senses. The lights seemed warmer, the Grotto familiar and safe. Some part of the young man relaxed in Zeltiva, his features softening as he listened to the Myrian. If he felt he had lost some kind of brotherhood, he felt it again here, with this warrior woman. Sure, she was hot. This was a given. The idea was with Pulren, however, that the fire within her was the true aphrodisiac. She could have looked like anything or anybody and he would have gravitated to her all the same. She was energy. He liked it. All of these musings were fit for the inside, however. On the outside, he was chuckling and grinning as the ale did its magic.

"Skills, aye. I need 'em. I thought Sunberth would transform me. All it did was make me a ruthless killer. Not who I am, really. But it did show me who I could be if I let myself go. I don't think I'll let that happen, though. " He shrugged after his little silly speech and took another swig. "I'd save you every day from that one to this one. We who have smelled Dira's scent may not know when it is our turn to go. But we sure know when it ain't." He laughed heartily and raised his mug in a defiant toast to the world and all of its killers.Putting his drink back, he slammed the empty flagon down and tapped it so that yon barkeep came and gave him a refill. He did.

Aider is a Nykian. First question. Pulren listened to Kaie explain the mark and was in no way surprised by his lacking presence. In fact, the more the man was described to the Zeltivan, the more the Zeltivan had to stifle a growing sneer of a grin. It was contagious and unstoppable! He couldn't help but laugh hard at the idea of Aider, especially when she mentioned how he somehow ended up in the Scars. Oh, it was going to be storytime! And Pulren the teller! Was life any better? Once she finshed her musing about the unknown fate of the man. Man, what a misnomer. Anyway, once he was sure she was finished, he stopped his laughing, for the most part, and placed his hand on her shoulder lightly. Not in a creepy way, but a storytime way.

"Oh, Kaie. I can fill in this blank for you, for sure. Me and Bitz were the ones to recruit Aider. I ran interference for her as we ran a game on him. I almost murdered your sweet friend that day. This is a good one." He tapped and held up his finger in a V for two more drinks for this tale. Here they came. "So, I had been in for not so long myself and she wanted to see what kind of shakedown skills I had. So, she points out Aider, the mark, and we get some kid to shove a package on him. The idea was for him to not give up the package to me no matter what, to test his mettle, ya know." A long swig and the memories began to flood his brain like the ale flooded his gut.

"So he ran so good from me. I really had a good horrorshow running, trident scraping the ground and all, face wrapped like a bandit. He tried to double back on me, though it was out in the open market so it was really not even a one back. Anyway, to cut it short, she and I finally herd him into the Quay, where he promptly throws down the package and begs mercy. Not so much as a punch or shove thrown. Oh wait, also , the dog. The poor dog that Fallon lost, she sicked it on him, though it was all bark and no bite. Well, your boy folded like a weak reed, he did. Gave up the box and begged for mercy. I put a beating on his nethers. I won't deny it. He just laughed it off and kept talking. Man, could that guy go on and on with his mouth."

Like Pulren was doing. A long drink of the next ale and he laughed to himself, wiping a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth. "I'm here to tell you, that mouth of his. ..." He shook his head, the dark demon of Uncle descending on Pulren's shoulders for a moment, the light of ale and fun slipping away to the shadow of death just for those briefest of instances. "If Fallon hadn't had me leashed, I would have worn his head on the end of me tines. Not a truer word to speak, begging your forgiveness." The darkness slipped away and the room became light again. "Heh, heh. To Sunberth!" Another toast and swig.

[Kaie]

A ruthless killer? Kaie mused while she took another long drink of ale. The beginning of a buzz was soothing. The energy between them making her eyes bright, alert and alive in the amber glow of candlelight. Never once did she see the Zeltivan as some insatiable murderer as he seemed to believe he had been developing. He was a trusted sword, or trident rather, and there were few others she knew she would've preferred to fight beside. Then again, she supposed that according to barbarians, the sword-swinging Myrian was a homicidal maniac. Such a resume in his world didn't give her much room to deny their heinous acts in Sunberth, much less justify them. Still, they had survived and brought others to their deaths. That in itself was something to celebrate. The Myrian flashed him her teeth and raised her own mug in cheers.

"And we don't let them forget, not until their last breath," she concurred before drinking along with her companion. Upon hearing the empty slam of the empty flagon, the drinking Myrian's grin broadened. Her head tipped back to eye the ceiling, and she finished her beverage with a victorious clunk upon the table. The barkeep shook his head, seeming to find amusement in the company the resident Wave Guard kept. He was quick enough on his feed to see to their liquid needs in rapid fashion. For all their good-natured fun thus far, it wasn't long until the mood turned nefarious.

Kaie's brow fell in confusion as she eyed Pulren. Another drink was taken to gather her thoughts, and when nothing came, the question did. "What's so gods damn funny?" It didn't take a Zeltivan scholar to figure out her trusted friend sitting beside her was no fan of the man she shared a room with just upstairs. However, she was developing an uncomfortable sensation. Why do I get the feeling he knows more about Aider than I do? Her expression turned skeptical, yet the woman was defeated. Memories failed her. The hand on her shoulder implied she was about to find out just what kind of secret Pulren kept. Context clues warned she was not about to like it either. Now the savage had herself completely turned to face the not-sailor. Even her pelvis was squared to his, a non-verbal, unconscious gesture that conveyed her undivided attention. One hand shamelessly gripped the mug of ale. The other rested upon the back of her chair. So began to story.

Something twisted up inside the savage at the suggestion of murder. A protective instinct or some sort of subdued anger, she supposed. Yet as the story went on, she began to perceive it as something far more complicated indeed. She mumbled a thanks to the barkeep when the drinks were brought. Eyes never left the face of the trident-wielder. She could feel the buzz of alcohol rushing her veins, or was that the anticipation that swelled as the story progressed? The woman did not hesitate to take another drink. He failed. He cowered and he failed. Now the Myrian had more of a fight keeping her disciplined gaze set on the storyteller. It was as if she could see the scene in her own head.

Aider, running, sweating through the crowd in an effort to escape death.
Pulren, beaming, trident carving a sinister trail in his malevolent wake.
Fallon, always lingering just out of view until the end, the clever orchestrator.
Orvin, snarling at the sniveling boy at his paws, saliva dripping from his bared fangs at the command of his master.
Failure. Failure. Failure.

The bronze hand hanging over the back of her chair clenched involuntarily into a fist. The muscles in her face gave a single twitch, her lip threatening to curl. Eyes grew tight. Jaw adjusting in disdain. Only it wasn't her drinking partner that was the object of her fury nor her shame. It was toward her current lover. She'd been intimate with weakness, shared herself with it. Yitmah used to say, "weakness is like a plague. Welcome it, and it will consume you." There was a tick she almost wished Pulren had fallen prey to his inclinations. "To Sunberth," she toasted along with the man with a darker tone, raising her mug. She took a hearty swig after that. Let the alcohol sooth her taught muscles and tease out the bubbling in her mind.

"Then why was he one of us?" Her eyes narrowed as she stared into her ale. A tawny finger lined its rim in slow, calculating circles. "Why was he welcomed as a Scar?" she asked again, this time her amber eyes flared up to find Pulren's face. Her own expression was riddled with perplexity and suppressed wrath. "He failed. He cowered. He proved he would not, could not, protect what was entrusted to him. He would've betrayed us. Why did Fallon accept him anyway, Pulren?" Her voice became a growl that mirrored his displeasure whenever he mentioned the "mark." "If I had been you, I would've put my sword through his eye and out the back of his skull."

[Pulren Marsh]

The ale toasted ,Pulren sat and let the alcohol do its magic. The lights in the room were brighter while being warmer, the pleasant smells became sharper and the less pleasant duller. Kaie was a beautiful woman, but Pulren found her to be much more appealing as a warrior than anything else. She practically glowed and beamed with life, the Zeltivan remembering that she was marked by the Goddess of War. To be marked by any God was a blessing, but one of the more martial deities was something special indeed. He could equate it to himself being marked by Father Laviku, if that would ever happen in his own lifetime.

The story was out and now it would be her turn to do the talking. Pulren listened to her and gave her the respect of his full attention. Her question was not only valid but it had been on his mind on the very day he was speaking of. Not being able to stifle a smug grin of satisfaction, he sort of shrugged at the question. It was really incredible. "I really couldn't tell you, Kaie. I was a late arrival to the Scars and I got the feeling that extra men were needed there at the end. Maybe I was just another sword. Or trident in my case." Reaching out, he took a long drink and put his empty mug down, smacking his lips. "Course, I saved Fallon's life so that's why I was invited. She and Eyepatch seem to have their own ways of doing things. Doesn't really matter much anymore."

The subject, dude. The subject. "Oh yeah. Well, at the time, I felt like I should just follow orders and play my part. If i ever ran into him again and the lights were a little dimmer, he might find himself in a precarious situation. Tell me something, though. Well, if you don't mind. If you do, petch it. Tell me anyway. Why were you with a guy like that? When I saw you two together on the boat over, it was a little weird. Don't get me wrong. My angle is respect, not jealousy." He leaned in a little, sliding down on his elbow a bit. A sudden pang hit him in the bladder and he found his body standing him up out of the chair. "I've got to seriously take a squirt."

[Kaie]

Gods it was so easy to be so angry. The emotion had been embedded in her for so long. She supposed it was only something to be expected. She'd spent the last few seasons on constant alert, hunted, attacked, and brutally battered along with her comrades. The misery that came with her decommission only shortened her easily sparked fuse. The only comfort she'd been able to find was within the reappearance of old friends, the arms of her lover, the safety of her chosen family, and devotion to her goddess. Now it seemed one of those sources of relief and salvation had been torn under her. It raised the question whether her sudden snap had been more selfish than she had realized at face-value. Pulren's smugness over her turmoil had seemed to only verify her chosen response to his tale. His revelation had raised questions at the very least.

Would Fallon really choose to be so reckless, picking up able bodies off the streets just to strengthen their numbers? The Myrian's brow furrowed as she pondered over the concept. Her fondness for her former superiors bid her to accept there were more factors beyond either of their comprehension, that there had been a method to the perceived madness. Hindsight tempted her to remain suspicious, but she quickly let that end of the story go for the time being. After all, it was during that time The Red Wolf had welcomed Pulren into their family, too. He had proven himself formidable under pressure and unwavering in loyalty. There still laid a chance there was something to be found in Aider as well, something below the surface none of them had yet seen. A woman could only hope.

"Zeltiva or Taloba, it would seem we are very much alike," Kaie offered the Wave Guard with a crooked grin in light of her soured mood. Very quickly, though, the man had moved on to what had been eating at his curiosity all along. The Myrian blinked at his final question. It was one she hadn't over-analyzed herself and one she'd never thought about ever having to explain to another. "Why am I with a guy like Aider?" she corrected mildly and repeated his own question back toward him, as if her mind needed to hear herself say it aloud to form an honest response. The mug before her was tipped back to her lips. More alcohol rushed down her throat. The budding sensation of intoxication flooded her body, blossoming a gentle blush along her tanned cheeks. Meanwhile, her mind wandered deep into the past. Eyes zoned off for several times as she disappeared within herself. Memories whizzed by her conscious mind. Suddenly, the anger found itself ebbing from her wired system.

"Why were you with a guy like that?"

"Because he's different," Kaie found herself responding suddenly, the reply coming quicker than she expected with little conscious thought. In her mind's eye she saw the gentle thing before her in the wildlands: the innocent deer oblivious to the predator in its midst. The Myrian found herself looking away from the other former Scar member as she further processed what laid in her head. "Because he looks at me and sees something...different. Something better than I do. It seems like everywhere I go there's another idiot swinging a sword. Don't get me wrong, I don't get the worth in the whole scholarly thing your city takes so much pride in either. It's just...maybe Sunberth made me tired of it all."

At Pulren's final remark she shook her head, shaking away the confusion and the idealism. A hand snaked through her wavy hair. "I'm sorry. By all means, don't explode on my behalf." Her crooked grin widened at the man in a way that was apologetic. She tipped the mug to her lips again and gestured toward the door as he rose.

[Pulren Marsh]

While his relief swelled and his bladder deflated, Pulren took the few moments to think on what Kaie had said. Aider saw something different in her. She probably meant that he saw something deeper than a body and a sword. Pulren didn't, but then again he didn't know the Myrian all that well. He knew she was a hell of a fighter and he would always choose her to have his back. What else could you want in someone in the piss poor trust ridden world he lived in? Gods, especially Sunberth.

A little shake and back inside. When he returned, feeling braver and lighter, he slid back into his stool and when the keep came over, he waved him off for the moment. Looking at her in a way that someone might admire a new ship ready for wetting, he found himself nodding. "You know, it's too bad you don't like school. Might suit ya. I was thinking about it and I understand what he meant, I guess. When I look at you, I don't see just a beautiful woman. I see a hardened weapon, forged in the blood of her Goddess. Now, if that ain't sexy, I don't know what is." He laughed a hearty laugh and then grabbed his flagon and extended it out to the keep.

When it was refilled, he took another drink and smacked his lips. "I guess I should just stay out of your love life. I am way more interested in your prowess than your body, though both are dangerous." That was as far as he allowed his flirting to go, though he did let his eye twinkle for that extra tick for effect. Maybe in some other life he would pursue that sort of thing, but Pulren had a full plate without trying to deal with a partner. It just wasn't time for all of that extra weight. "You gonna stay in our fine city a moment? Maybe go off with Fallon and the gang when they leave?" He wanted to ask about Aider, but it was really a tired subject. Best to move on and make light of the night.