Completed [Safehaven Hostel]Digging through the ashes

[Imass]

Winter 28, 515 AV

Imass swung open the door of the old brick building known as the Safehaven Hostel. The grizzly looking Akalak stood at the threshold of the Hostel with a blank stare.

The pale, blue-skinned face was taut at his cheek bones and his thick, untrimmed beard hung to his chest. His once gleaming gold eyes, were now dull, yellow remnants of the past. Greasy, unkempt hair flowed over his shoulders. He wore plain gray woolen clothes and cheap boots. The knight had no other possessions, no mizah, no weapons. His height and broad frame remained intact, but he was now thin.

Slowly, the Knight shuffled into the room taking a careful look at everything around him. It was poorly lit with only a few lanterns and a small fireplace. Their were several simple wooden tables, benches, and chairs. There was a counter and a kitchen serving food and minute alcohol. Imass face was grimacing at the place for it was drab, plain, and not a all a cheery atmosphere. People were sitting quietly talking to each other in low voices.

Approaching the counter, the Knight asked the purveyor for food and alcohol, but he did not have a single mizah to his name so the woman denied him. The Akalak tried to plead and explain his situation, but her response was unloving interruption and rejection. The woman from the Infirmary was correct in saying that Nykans did not like foreigners.

Turning to the people in the room, the Akalak addressed them all at once, "Is there not a man or woman among you who could buy a war veteran a drink and hot meal?

[Pulren Marsh]

The face of the wheat shark taunted Pulren as he lay on the crappy bed in the drab hostel room. His bruised ribs had healed through the days as he had languished and hoped to find someone who would be able to help him take vengeance on the exotic beast. Winter in Nyka was a shykey time to try and find help for such a thing, however. Only the locals were well fed enough to make such an attempt and the politics of the city prevented many from speaking up. In the meantime, occasional reports of livestock or children being snapped up by the beast would come through. No one seemed to care. It was a petched up city, Nyka was.

Dressed in two of his linen shirts due to the lack of comfort afforded to the foreigners, Pulren made his way out to the less than jovial central room so that he could try and soak up some fire. His leather pants, while fashionable in Zeltiva, were only marginally comfortable in Nyka. The whole place sucked. Let's face it. However, it didn't suck as bad as Sahova or Sunberth had sucked in Winter, so by being the third least sucking city to be in at Wintertime, could he really complain? The few who were also in the hostel looked about as friendly and agreeable as Pulren did, no doubt. Fortunately there was some entertainment as a blue man entered the establishment.

Pulren and the others watched as he attempted begging for food. It made the Zeltivan feel slightly better knowing that while he was still green in Nyka, he wasn't that green. Having never seen a blue man in the first place, he almost thought it interesting. Seeing how the last interesting thing in the City nearly crippled him, he remained silent as the guy proceeded to call out to the room. This was the point where he had to make a stand. The guy could easily attract the Skerr monks and break the law at this point.

Pulren needed the Skerr monks to do nothing besides pay him. Appearing to cart off a food buyer could prove dangerous. Especially a food buying war veteran. This interesting person he would take a chance on, seeing how he might be able to help Pulren take out that damned shark. Standing and coughing, he waved off the innkeeper and put his arm around the shoulder of the large blue man. Well, he couldn't quite reach the shoulder so he just patted his back instead. In a hushed tone, he urged him to come down the hall with him.

"Buying food in Nyka is illegal, friend. You'd do best to not draw attention to yourself that way. Come down to my room and we can talk about it." He didn't know if he would go for it or not, as it would seem a dicey proposition should the tables be turned. The guy did look desperate, however. Couldn't be any worse than slowly starving and freezing by himself.

[Imass]

Imass' question to the common room only got him blank stares and hushed tones. It deeply annoyed the Akalak that he could not get a measly meal here. He had just starved in a timeless prison and this was what he returned to. He only wished he could make these people feel what he felt.

Before he could express his disdain and anger any further, a human male tapped him on the shoulder. Their was nothing remarkable about the man's haggard face, for it seemed everyone in the Hostel was malnourished. He spoke quickly and quietly, informing the Akalak that it was illegal to buy and sell food in Nyka. Imass opened his mouth in shock.

"Verily," the knight said as he followed the man up the stairs and into a plain room, "Drab and unfriendly seems to be the theme around here,"

Taking the liberty to take a seat on his bunk the Akalak spoke up immediately in outrage, "What is the deal here!? I've gotten kicked out of the infirmary before being fully healed, without a shred of information, nor even a parchment to write my whereabouts to my family. Now I can't even get a meal? How do you eat here? Have they no respect?"

[Pulren Marsh]

With a click of the key in the lock, Pulren took to putting one of his dirty shirts up against the crack under the door. This would keep the heat in longer but more importantly it would keep the booming voice of the blue man from bringing guards down. He had now thrown his lot in with the man, as far as the law went. It was a unique perspective he had as a Wave Guard, to see a situation from the eyes of the law. No crime was evident yet, but he wasn't going to aggravate the situation. Taking a seat in the ratty wooden chair opposite his bunk, he rubbed his hands together as he listened to the tale of the blue man.

"Here's how Nyka works. The half gods run the place. They have monks, a couple hundred in number, for each faction. The monks run everything. The locals are the only ones who get respect other than the monks and maybe a quarter at that. Foreigners like you and me are rats to them, eating their food and pissing in their streets." Standing, he went over to his meager chest and dug about in it, looking for something to aid the man. As he looked around, he kept on talking. He was glad to have someone to talk to, even if it happened to be a large blue man bellowing about all the shyke he didn't have. Rummaging through clothes, he looked at the guy. He was bigger than Pulren but the times and the season had worn him down a bit.

Digging out the simple coat he had with him, he tossed it over to the man. "Put that on. Keep it. Why are you blue? Not that it's any of my business, but I can count this as being the only time I have ever seen a blue guy." More digging produced a pair of his linen undergarments. The clean ones remaining were gold and blue. He never cared for the gold colored ones, being something to wear at the Springs. He wished them well, wadded them up and tossed them over. "They're clean. Don't worry. I don't have anything in the way of food, but the monks will come by soon with the rations for the day. That's why everyone was gathered in the main room. Otherwise we just stay in our room for the most part."

Standing again, he nodded to the blue man. "By the way, I'm Palaren Marshall of Zeltiva. I'm a traveling mercenary. What's your story?"

[Imass]

Imass sat with a wide stance, feet firmly placed on the floor and his hands resting gently on his knees. It was a habit of being constantly vigilant that had never left him, even after his long imprisonment. The human explained to him the basic rules of Nyka. The blue man nodded at each and every point being made.

"... and I thought Syliras was strict..." he mumbled as he thought of the new social rules that he had to abide by now.

The man rummaged through a chest and threw him a coat, "I am an Akalak - Oh thank you - I was born and raised in the great Akalak city of Riverfall. All Akalak's have similar skin color as mine," Imass left out many details about his race, especially the whole part about multiple personalities. The man tossed him a pair of linen undergarments.

"Your generosity is greatly appreciated, I am in your debt," He extended a hand to the man and clasped forearms, dull yellow eyes staring him dead in the face "Well met Palaren, I am Imass the Syliran Knight."

Releasing his grip, Imass continued, "Aye a waveguard then? I've brawled a few in the past, but that's a story for another time," There was a grin on his face when he mentioned that, "Yes, four years ago I marched with Zeltiva during the Sahova campaign. We laid siege to the city and in the pitch of battle I was captured by the Nuits and thrown deep in the dungeon. I was forgotten there for three years. I escaped and floated on a raft here to Nyka nearly dead. Now I sit here before you,"

You are a fool Imass, Garoon screamed in his head, Why do you say so much?

We have nothing to hide in this matter, The dominant Imass silenced him.

[Pulren Marsh]

Pulren accepted the standard tough guy greeting, his own forearm clasped against that of the apparent Akalak. "Riverfall, huh? I have heard of that but only in books. I think it is connected to Syliras somehow." He released the other man's forearm and took a seat again, mindlessly scritching at his stubble as he listened to the Akalak's tales. Pulren waved away the mention of debt at first, that is, until he heard words that truly piqued his interest. Syliran Knight. From that moment on, he was riveted to the spot, listening with great interest and retention to the tale he was told.

"That's some story, Ser Imass. You are the second Knight I have ever met. I traveled with another one for a season into Sunberth. Surely you have heard of Ser Markus Andres? He and his companion, S'Essy, are good friends of mine. They are expecting child, in fact. Probably already had it by now, though I am not sure how Konti birth in relation to a human." He shrugged it off, their familiar faces returning to his memory. "I remember a lot of traffic passing through Zeltiva then, though I was still a boy, the fisherman's mate to my drunken uncle. It was an impressive and scary time." His thoughts scattered about like leaves in the Autumn winds. His mouth didn't wait for his thoughts to match.

"Will you be returning to Syliras in the Spring? I would like to go with you, if so. I'd like to visit Markus and S'Essy, explore Syliras, maybe purchase a boat. Eventually I'd like to..." His dreams were interrupted by the telltale toll of the bells of the monks of Skerr. Standing and brushing himself off, he stepped over to the door and unlocked it, removing his key. The smell of bread wafted into the room. "The monks of Skerr are hear with the daily bread. It's probably stale but it's still warm if we can get to it. We'll finish our story soon enough. If you want to get dressed, I'll give you a minute." If he was truly a Knight, which would make sense the way he spoke, he had no concerns of leaving him alone for a moment to have a sliver of privacy.

Once he joined him, the pair could head downstairs to collect their bread and bowl of broth. It wasn't much but it beat the shyke out of thinking about food.

[Imass]

Imass could not contain himself at the mention of Markus Andres. He almost burst out of his seat in pure excitement. The last time he had seen his beloved comrade was on the rough seas outside Sahova. Tears of joy streamed from his face and emotions streamed through him.

"Ser Markus Andres survived the siege!? Hup Hup Huzzah! Today is a good day to be alive! He is having a child? With a konti? That savage dog," A deep rich laugh escaped his lips, "I knew he had it in him! I must write to him immediately, they all probably think that I am dead!"

Palaren continued with an inquiry about returning home, but the toll of bells interrupted him. The human informed the knight the bells denoted the Monks of Skerr were distributing bread. As Imass changed into his new clothing he spoke of his plans, "The first day of spring I wish to leave for Syliras if everything is aligned through Yahal's faith. I have no money, no stead, no weapons, nothing but these humble clothes you have gifted me. I must make prepare to depart immediately,"

Back in the common room, Imass' smile turned into a frown when a single loaf of bread and lukewarm broth was shoved into his hands. The Knight took care not to make eye contact with any of the Monks. He knew how these things went. Taking a seat at a secluded table with Palaren, the Knight quickly consumed his meal.

Leaning over he whispered to the human, "So how do you make gold in this blasted city?"

[Pulren Marsh]

Accepting his daily bread and broth, Pulren nodded and made sure to keep his eyes to the ground. There was literally no reason to start any crap with these monks, after all. He did feel empowered in a sense after meeting a second Knight. Perhaps it was a sign of sorts, a nudge from the Gods that his thoughts on pushing on to SYliras were valid ones. Even more so, perhaps it would be worthwhile to investigate the Knighthood itself. After all, from the two specimens he had seen, he believed that with a bit of training and orientation, he could do just as well as any Syliran.

It would be a way that he could work toward pushing down the urge to kill or better yet, to kill for a higher purpose. Now that would be a profession that would truly suit him. Being able to kill the true enemies of Mizahar with little abandon at the behest of the lawful and just Gods...who could want more from life? He smiled to himself as he dipped the bread in the broth and had his fill. he made sure to take his time so as not to waste it and to let it all digest. He would have to do some fishing soon to supplement the meager rations given daily or he would look about as bad as Ser Imass did by Spring.

In an equally hushed tone, Pulren responded," Well, as a mercenary, I seek out jobs that no one else will tackle, usually of the martial variety. One such job exists in fact, something that I could definitely use your help with." Crouching in closer and being sure as to not be overheard once the monks left, he continued. "Apparently, a Wizard unleashed a flying shark into town at the beginning of the season. There is currently a two hundred Laat bounty on its destruction. I tried to do it myself but it is too difficult alone. With your help, I am sure we could take it down. I'd split it, minus any money I front you to prepare. Sound good?"

It occurred to him that his meager bunk would do him little good with a beast like the blue man in it as well. Standing and walking to the counter, he fished out five golden mizas and spoke to the proprietor before returning to the table with a key. "I bought you twenty days of room. That way you have somewhere to start but don't feel like a complete charity case." He clapped the man on the shoulder and smiled. "I'm going back up. Go check out your room and come back over if you like. We'll discuss some tactics."

[Imass]

Imass slurped up the last of his meal. He had eaten it so quickly that his shrunken stomach actually began to hurt, but the feeling was welcomed as he had been starving in a dungeon for years. Palaren explained to him in a hushed tone about the bounty on a flying shark. The Akalak gave the man a single curt nod in response, agreeing to his terms.

"We shall feast on the vile beasts' flesh, for this meager meal has not satisfied the hunger," he whispered. A shiver of excitement rolled down his spine, for he had not been on a hunt since he was a child. Sitting at the table the Akalak got lost in thought for a moment as he imagined the meal that was to come and the gold. This was exactly what he needed to get himself out of his funk.

Palaren returned to the table with the key to a room, "Thank ye good sir, I owe you much," Imass bowed his head in respect and pushed the table aside. Walking up the stairs he opened the door to his room, which was all the way at the end of the hall.

Getting on his knees, the Knight prayed allowed, "Yahal, I have faith in your ways. I am but a lowly and humble servant. I have forsaken thinking about things, because it is too difficult to discern in these times of great darkness in my life. I will follow the principles of Tyveth and Sylir and have utter faith that will show me the way," Placing his head on the floor he repeated once more, "Yahal, I have faith. I am but a servant to your guiding light, thank you for guiding me to Palaren who is going to help me down the path of light,"

Finally done with his prayer, Imass returned to Palaren's room, locking his room behind him. Lightly knocking on the wood as so that none would hear them, the Akalak entered the room again and took the liberty to sit again.

"Sylir bless you Palaren. You have shed much needed light into my life in the last hour," Imass' didn't want to get all emotional with the man, but he needed to make sure the man understood how much help he was, "So now, tell me of this creature we are to slay. Where does it roam? What has been done about it thus far? How do you plan on killing it? Does it have any weaknesses?" Imass held up his hands and wiggled his fingers, hinting that he only had his bare hands to contend with.

[Pulren Marsh]

A full stomach had a good reaction on Pulren's mood. Even the shykey hostel didn't seem so terrible with some food in the belly. He felt like he should take advantage of the energy he was presented and get some things organized. Taking time to pull out the contents of his chest, he placed all of his clothes, weapons and goods on the bunk before him, looking at what he didn't need and could give to the Knight. He rubbed at his chin and looked over the items. He kept a pretty tight ship as far as gear went. there wasn't much of anything he didn't use.

Perhaps elimination was the way. His other undergarments went back into the chest, along with his clothes. He had given the man what he could, loaned mizas would have to produce the rest. His kukri was confiscated, only the scabbard remaining. Into the chest. His swimming fins, goggles and breath bag were important to him, not for loan. He did notice that he had both a comb and a brush. His hair, when he did mess with it, was short enough for a comb so Imass could have the brush. That pretty much left the shortbow. He had purchased it so he could learn to use it like Tyler did, but his use of Reimancy for projectiles made the weapon more of an encumbrance than anything else.

By the time that he heard the knock at the door, he was left with the brush and the shortbow on the left half of his bunk with his trident, shield and studded leather on the right. When Imass entered, he nodded to him and took a seat on the bunk, flourishing toward the single chair in the room opposite the bunk. "Welcome back. I hope your room was sufficient." When Imass thanked him for his aid, he smiled and waved it away. "It's no problem. Really. I used to be poor and have nothing at all. People have helped me in life and I feel it is best to return the favor. Besides, I need your help with the beast." Leaning over, he picked up the wooden brush and the shortbow, sitting back up straight and handing them over to Imass.

"This is all I have left that I can afford to part with, but they are yours, friend. I can loan you some mizas so you can outfit yourself further. Do you think you will need any?"