The Preludes of Misfortune (Kh'Ryll & Mia--Open)

[Dramiana Rosenthal]

It was the sort of place you don’t talk about in civilized conversation; the sort of place you’re uncomfortable with discussing at the dinner table. While most travelers shied away from unsavory locations and unsorted parties, this was commonplace for Damiana. In fact, only the most extraordinary or unkempt circumstances were repeat occurrences in her life. And some might think it ordinary if extraordinary circumstances happened to an extraordinary woman, but when extraordinary circumstances happen to an ordinary woman, it’s unpalatable subject matter at dinner.

Whispers of just how unsavory it was had occurred at a dinner in the Disappearing Drunk prior to our young pariah being nestled in a cold heap leaning against the banisters just outside the decrepit Majestic. A funny irony, that. They had been talking about the foolhardy nature of waiting outside in Stumble Alley after dark, and how a person would have to have been delirious to even consider the option.

But there are times when genuinely bad things happen to genuinely good people. Curses, although not rampant in Mizahar, can happen, and they happened to Damiana (the Cordus Curse, more specifically). While it was never enjoyable to be cursed, there are benefits, however skewed your optimism: repulsion keeps away both hostiles and allies.

Damiana was used to being the outcast, however, and had made quite the occupation from being so. Hunched over, a perpetual dark cloud loomed over her personality as she herself tried to keep some optimism intact. The girl was nothing to look at, mainly because she did not take to wearing make up or fashionable clothing - choosing an introspective approach by keenly studying the craft for which she was cherished (be it only by her summons). Her hair was jet black and her pallor was suggestive of a cadaver, many mistaking her to be Nuit. Slender and frail of build, her teeth were wont to chatter. Her attire was languid and dark, just as she, and there were no breasts or hips well endowed like other women her age. She was small and fair, and any beauty upon her was hidden well beneath the bowers of brocade and organza. The only truly mesmerizing feature was the depths of her amethyst eyes, bequeathed by her long-dead mother.

Being half-Symenestra had complexities of its own, as well (which she was). If you were trying to be charmingly social, that, too, would have had you down on your luck. Damiana sat sucking at a pear while her pupils dilated to take in the murky world around her, not expecting company for the duration of her stay in Sunberth. And while Stumble Alley was not the best of places, the tunnels north of the city, desirable though they were, seemed a more unsafe bet considering the scant population.

These extraordinary nuances were dismissed soon enough with a good read. Before her was a great grimoire which was attached by a silver fetter wrapped about the whole of her left side in ornate loops. Draping chains swung from her left shoulder, roundabout her left arm, wrist, and through her dainty fingers. They interwove about her waist and bent lowly down her dress until a gilded buckle attached it to her book. So enraptured by the seemingly blank pages oblivious to the world around her was she that matters concerning ordinary and extraordinary had lost their interest years before.

[Kh'ryll]

Having come from the jungles of Falyndar and the dangers that accompany it, Kh'Ryll had yet to fully grasp the dangers that lie outside the Falyndar region.
He had travelled with a very large caravan and although he was shunned the entire travelduration it had been the safest and fastest way to travel. Besides, it's not like he could care less about what some puny humans thought of him anyway.
All this, however, made for a false sense of security as he was still severely lacking in many ways and thinking you're safe when you're not, can prove fatal in this world.

He had to leave the safe haven that was the caravan when they reached Syliras, not wanting to give up his wrist razors he was forbidden to enter the 'civilized' city. He had spat on the ground before the feet of the guards before walking away. And then running away, the guards hadn't liked being nearly spat upon and they were showing it by chasing him with weapons drawn.

Luckily for Kh'Ryll the armor and weaponry of the guards made them cumbersome, slow and quickly out of breath. Having succesfully 'tactically' retreated he threatened/asked an unlucky passer-by where he could find a city where he was allowed to carry his weapons.

Kh'Ryll was told he should go to Sunberth and the stranger even, totally willingly, gave him a map of the area so that he could find his way easily to it. After some travelling in a gloomy mood he became cheerier as he saw an open city in the distance.

As he left the dusty road for the equally dusty, paved alleys and roads he remembered what the stranger had said before he took off, leaving a staggering man behind.

" I hope they stab out your eyes and feed'm to you! "

Surely he couldn't have found a city that approved of cannibalism outside of Tabola. It would be a blessing if it was true though. But it also warned him that the locals might not be the easiest people to target. He was out of remains to practice on and he was getting restless with not practicing for so long.

Night had already fallen upon him before he had the chance to check out the local traditions, rites and people inhabiting this city. He decided he would sleep under a bridge or in an abandoned house for the time being. It was then that he looked sideways into a rather dark alley and noticed a silhouette in the near-darkness.

He approached it, eventhough it was foolish to approach a silent silhouette in an alley at night. Especially in Sunberth. As he came closer and closer he could mark out that she was a woman and that this woman did not just reside in darkness, she was darkness...
Her hair was as black as the night and her clothes aswell. Still he remained fearless and overly confident of his ability to protect himself.

He was weary and tired with his travel, he needed a place to rest and hoped this woman would provide that. He decided against the direct approach, for many reasons. One of them being that he was talking to a woman, which in his former habitat and lifestyle were creatures of power and wisdom. Eventhough the women in the caravan with which he travelled with were none of that, still he respected them.

" Hello, I am Kh'Ryll. "

He said nothing more, giving the woman time to respond.

[Dramiana Rosenthal]

Irises flashed, dilating a bit to take in the form that approached her in the midst of the portentous alley. The gentle raucous of a chain wrapped about the wayfarer's ankles with a near sentient grace.

"Kh'ryll," said the stranger, her voice soft and barely audible, bereaved, embittered, and feminine. "What want you with a derelict?"

Delicate fingers reached forward to touch his boots, playing with the laces in an eccentric way. "For there are so many who would not proffer a passing greeting, much less a name, my way, Kh'ryll. But you seem solid enough to me..." the voice trailed off into wispy sounds. The slow blink came that accompanies a deep thought before the young female's fetter coiled about his ankles a little more closely.

A cold wind blew the strands of her ebony hair as she continued. "Me. Myself. Mia."

[Kh'ryll]

His lefteye twitched as the woman repeated his name in an eery tone, like she had been done great unjustice just recently and was out for blood. He nearly took a step back as the woman suddenly bend over in his direction, thinking it was an attack. The movement was too gentle and slow to be an attack though and as such he stood his ground and let the seemingly crazed woman play with his boots' laces.

After a moment he got fed up with the weird behaviour and repositioned himself so that his boot was out of her grasp, eventhough women are to be respected...if necessary, he wouldn't hesitate to kill. He was hungry anyway.

As she introduced herself in a weird manner as Mia he replied.

" Mia, do you know a place to sleep in this rotten town? "

He was aware about the situation he was in, talking to a seemingly crazed woman that for some reason demanded mistrust of him. He didn't know why, but he didn't trust this woman. Not for the obvious reasons of acting crazy and not knowing her but because of something else. It was like she emitted an aura of deceit.

" Are you a sorceress, woman? " He added with a soft tone of voice.

[Dramiana Rosenthal]

The aperture of the alleyway cast long shadows of the woman’s silhouette. Movements oozed sinuous grace and ebbed a kind of clandestine power. It was obvious she was just a novice, but there was a gift lying dormant within the bowels of an equally clandestine heart. Shallow breath exhaled, but calmly, as Kh’ryll would see the gentle fingers still sprawled - suspended in movement - as he had quickly moved his shoe away from her. A keen ear hearkened to his words, but even listening seemed aloof (despite the utmost attention being given).

Something was off. Would a deceitful woman be so socially withdrawn as to dwell in Stumble Alley’s godforsaken street? And such a young woman, too!
When he asked her about accommodations, the girl looked directly up at him for a moment so that the flash of her eyes held his reflection. With a graceful gesture, her arm swept at her side as a billowing sleeve and clatter of chains signaled that her home was where she had sat. A vagabond clearly unable to secure a room.

“I am a connoisseur of companions,” answered she, a sly smile forming on her dark lips. “Not the social type. The beastly type. I’m rather skilled with circles, too, and of creatures great and small. Why do you ask, Kh’ryll? Are you in need of my services?” Without giving him time to answer, she rose.
Chains swung beautifully back down toward the earth while she continued. “I ask for very little. From Nyka, I was. As new as you, no doubt, to this dark cloud called Sunberth. I’ve hardly any coin, so robbing me will do you no good. I’ve no food, either, for my diet is a lean one. But a bed is something I desire, and were it not for my luck, lord Kh’ryll, I’d have one, by now. If you help me get one, I’ll offer you what little knowledge and skills I have.”

Again, her purple eyes stared deeply into his own (hypnotism). There was a very slight, but gentle power of suggestion there. A captivation that, while not overly strong, was beautiful. It was so very subtle, and before one had time to ponder it, the girl had forced her gaze away as though fatigued.

“I’m trying to get to a school for summoners. You will take me there, won’t you?”

[Kh'ryll]

For a split second Kh'Ryll thought the woman had been chained to the wall, but it was her own. ' What could be so important that it had to be chained to herself... ' He thought as he looked into the woman's deep amethyst eyes. What he saw there was not insanity, more like pain and grief. He listened closely as she spoke, explaining her situation and powers while flattering him at the same time. A mocking smile appeared on Kh'ryll's lips as she called him lord.

" Do not try and fool me with pleasantries woman, I sense darkness all over you. But you are right, I could use your services and I shall oblige to help you sleep in a bed. "

After speaking his mind the woman came closer and looked him in the eyes, he felt slightly out of sorts as he looked in the colorful eyes of the sorceress. It almost seemed like he was being sucked into her mind and stripped of his own thoughts.

" Do not... " He said, not sure what to add to that. But something was wrong, that much was sure. Relieved when she broke away her gaze he panted for a moment as he swallowed away his insecurity, following it up with:

" Let's go get a bed! "

Walking deeper into the dark alley he felt uneasy but glad at the same time, he just make a powerful ally tonight.

[Dramiana Rosenthal]

“You would prefer insults, Kh’ryll?” said she, a clever riposte for her latest ‘victim.’ ‘Victim’ she’d use loosely. There was no reason to exploit him to any diabolical means. Besides, he looked like the Myrian type – not that she’d express this concern openly – not one to continuously pull fast ones on. Hypnotism and persuasion had its uses despite its dubious nature; cut out all of the politics and got right down to business. But she was still just a novice at it – nothing in comparison to her mother.

The summmoner crept behind him slowly, very careful to not make a great noise with the fetter. Tip-toeing carefully on cobble, her eyes went about cautiously watching the maws of the alleyways, the fervent desire to get out of there throwing her heart into her rib cage. Due to the fear, Kh’ryll might have thought the woman would have crawled up into his cape if she could, but her resolve was fixed – even if it was a façade. In truth, ‘Mia’ spoke so very little that the Myrian might have had to check to see if she were accompanying him at all.

When they had made it out of the alley and into the melting pot of Castle Commons, an audible sigh of relief came from the wizard’s companion. Clutching the drapery of her dress and chains, her trembling hand weakly wove roundabout Kh’ryll’s wrist.

For fear of breaking her façade, she quickly followed it up with, “Know you the way to The Pig’s Foot? I’ve read of it often in my studies…“ The voice was more calm than her gesture was, deep, sardonic, and sad - a mood she wore so well.

[Kh'ryll]

Looking at the houses in the alley he could swear most, if not all, were vacant of living beings. Most windows were either broken, boarded shut or both. The doors were either non-existant or hanging loosely of their hinges. Still Kh'Ryll did not enter any of the houses. Instead he kept walking, hoping his undefined fear of this alley wasn't showing.

Looking back a few times to see Mia walking carefully behind him, nearly without any sound except for the occasional soft clatter of her chains, he smiled. She was being exceptionally timid in contrast to her confident although weird behaviour earlier. To his surprise she even took hold of his wrist when they made it out of the alley, smiling in a friendly manner he grabbed her hand and guided her through the remaining streets, nodding in response to her question.

When they arrived at The Pig's Foot Tavern Kh'Ryll could hear loud voices singing and talking. He frowned, not in the mood for loud, drunk, marginal locals he pushed open the door when a cloud of smoke and a disgusting scent of sweat, brew and smoke all mixed into one entered his nose.

" I'll order us a room, will one do or do you want a separate room? " He asked with a mean face, not out of anger with her but because of the sickening stench and annoying noise. This was Sunberth afterall, the lowest of the low hang around here, and you can smell it.

[Dramiana Rosenthal]

Fetid aromas curled in disgusting wisps from the smoke of calabash pipes and foreign cigars. A noticeably loud rustle was heard while Dra-Miana reflexively cast a draping bell-sleeve with chains over her nose and mouth. “Ksss…” she hissed, scowling with distaste at the brothel of testosterone and filth. Kh’ryll had gone before, seeking accommodations while she stared about the room to take in the banal occupants.

Stares and vulgar gestures were all given at her, she inclined to draw up the draping cloth over her hair and face to avoid their stares. The crowd near the front desk dispersed out of some nauseating vibe due to her aura, while others slowly ebbed toward the corners to finish off their pints.

Suddenly, the voice from the other mage broke her gaze, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts. “One…” she replied in a low, barely audible voice. “So that I might keep an eye out for you.”

If you’ve ever tried to play hide-and-seek with a companion wearing bells, you might have understood Kh’ryll’s predicament when going up several flights of stairs with a woman who has chains strapped about her left side. All in all, if it weren’t for Damiana’s unsociable aura, they might have had the shit beaten out of them by now…

“Once we’re inside, don’t you get any ideas,” mumbled the girl. “They might look heavy but I know how to use them...” she continued, turning about to add. "Have you coin, Kh'ryll? What would you want with a wretch?"