60th Day of Winter, 515 AV
Finally she'd fallen back into a familiar routine that reminded her of the average days she'd enjoyed in her perilous lifestyle only a season ago. The dawn of Syna had the Myrian woman eagerly rising like the daylight rays had woken her from death itself. Layers of covers were tossed from her body, exposing her bronze flesh to the uninviting cold of wintry air that managed to sneak beneath the door of her modest apartment. Soon enough she was flitting about the room in search of asylum in the embrace of warmer clothes. Buckskin leggings were yanked up her legs to cover what her loincloth did not. A brown leather vest was shrugged on and buttoned in the middle. Her father's gladius hung proudly from the weapon belt she fastened tight to her hips, and a pair of kukri slept soundly in the harness attached to her back. A thick cloak was then pulled about her body and secured, wrapping the jungle-born in one final layer of clothing that both battled off Morwen and concealed the blades on her person. Sitting on the floor tying the laces of her hidden-bladed boots, the young woman's amber eyes wandered toward the bow and quiver hanging on the wall across the room. Easy there, walking armory, that patronizing inner voice condescended within the confines of her head. You're half the shot you think you are, first of all. Second, there's no need to carry that much extra weight. Kaie pursed her lips. Unfortunately, her inner voice's logic was sound today. She slung a light backpack over her shoulders as she headed for the door...alas she simply couldn't help herself from snagging the spear leaning on its frame before the door slammed behind her.
A breeze greeted the Falyndar native the tick she exited the complex. A fierce scowl characterized her features and her body gave a shiver. Oh, how she longed for home. Kaie wasted no time throwing her cloak hood over her head in retaliation. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she trudged down the coated pathway through the city. Her spear was held tight in her grasp. Gotta eat, Myrian. Gotta eat. It was the best motivation she could conjure to keep her firmly on her path toward the city gates. Ever since she started getting her name out there, jobs had sluggishly started to roll in now and then. At first the jobs she was forced to complete were just absolutely pathetic, if not shameful. One Akalak needed a Nakivak astray discreetly returned, another implored her to essentially stalk another to be certain she wasn't already being courted by another. Neither job had proved as exciting or rewarding as any of the idiocy she'd willingly involved herself in back in Sunberth. Yet Mizas were Mizas, and a poor Myrian would forever be a stranded one. So she kept on. Today, however, had arrived with much more promise. No stalking. No jealousy. Just blood.
Kaie remembered standing before the posting like a fool for at least fifteen chimes when she'd first seen it. It was as if she expected the paper filled with Tukant to spontaneously start translating for her aloud. Eventually her unfortunate hunting partner at the time, Kyle, decided to relieve the woman of her frustration and read it. He'd been far briefer than the paper, that much she could tell. All he'd chosen to explain was that Riverfall's council was looking for mercenaries daring enough to travel outside the walls to bring an end to some dastard shenanigans. It was enough to pique her interest and restrain herself from falling to her knees to thank the Goddess Queen for the violent opportunity. Both eager to earn some coin, the pair had decided to accept the job and rendezvous with the rest of the assembled squad the next morning. Now that the morning had come, Kaie was only bitter the Sun Goddess could do little to make their travel through the mild tundra more pleasant. Nonetheless, as she stood off to the side near the city's guarded gates in wait for a council representative, she couldn't deny the euphoric rush that came with the risky unknown.
"Alright! Listen up!" a deep, raspy voice barked in Common above the city noise out of no where. A massive purple Akalak strode toward the small collection of rough types that scattered about Kaie's vicinity. A wicked curl came to his lips as his dark eyes scanned the audience before him. "I'm here on behalf of the city council. If you're not here to aid Riverfall in clearing out the vermin beyond the wall, clear out!" The seventeen armed mercenary folk glanced suspiciously about each other, but none had vanished in spite of the apparent squad leader's intimidation tactics. Kyle bounded up behind Kaie toward her flank with his bow in hand and quiver strapped to his back. "Lose track of time passing it with yourself?" the Myrian teased crudely just loud enough to reach the Sunberth-born archer. The corners of his lips twitched. This should be good. He edged closer to her and slipped his hand discreetly against the small of her back. "What can I say, sweetheart? The image of you under me has that effect," he purred in her ear in return. Kaie rewarded his raunchy wit with a well placed elbow subtly buried in his solar plexus. She heard the air whoosh agonizingly from his lungs and sensed his body involuntarily bending forward toward her. Now it was her turn to twitch her lips, fighting the smirk that threatened to present itself. "I'm Daesk. I was charged with command of this mission and the lot of you, so I'll only say this once. You all answer to me. You will obey my commands without protest. You will stick to the plans I set in motion. Work together as a unit and most of you will see richer days courtesy of the council." Kyle straightened up and inevitably caught his breath. His eyes focused like Kaie's on their de facto leader, who was clothed in heavy furs and showing off a fearsome great sword that hung in a large sheath at his side.
"As you are all already aware given the post that brought you here, there is a Zith group conducting raids just east of the city. The harsh winter is drawing them closer to Riverfall and putting our people at risk. We must put an end to them before they begin hunting us!" Kaie's brow furrowed. Her heart beat furiously within her chest. Zith... Just like that the Myrian was gone though her feet never moved. Gone was the boisterous commander and the random collection of mercenaries standing at attention. Not even Kyle just behind her was registered anymore. Instead she was in the Sea of Grass, tall weeds whipping about her exposed flesh a fall wind. The screeches of winged beasts crashing down from above clashed with the screams of wounded Drykas. Then there was blood that colored the grass, pooled upon the dirt, and splattered across her face. The scent of death swarmed her, the aroma of a raging make-shift pyre consumed her. And then just nothing. Just alone. "Who do you think wedged a stick up his ass?" Kaie exhaled sharply, only realizing when Kyle's muttering brought her back that she had been holding her breath. "What was that?" Daesk peered around the Myrian at the archer, whose brow raised and jaw started to fall slack. "He was just telling me how much he admired what hangs from your hips, sir," Kaie found herself explaining before she even consciously became aware of what she was doing. Her hands were clasped neatly behind her straightened back, chin raised. Daesk's brow raised and his own jaw fell flack, visibly uncomfortable as his gaze shifted quickly from the Myrian to Kyle. "Your sword, sir." One of the nearby mercenaries guffawed while another began to double over in laughter. The whisper of malignant intend she began to detect came undoubtedly from directly behind her. It was all she could do not to break the falsely earnest expression she'd spontaneously adopted for the sake of character. Daesk, rattled, grit his teeth and marched to stand nearly toe-to-toe with the savage. "You think you're a gods damned comedian, Myrian?" Her amber eyes met with his but her jaw was voluntarily wired shut. "We'll all see how gods damned funny you are when you lay eyes on twenty-five winged bastards, each with every intent of ripping your savage ass to pieces." Kyle hid his mirth behind the hand that cupped over his mouth. He wasn't nearly as nonchalant in the gesture as he thought. "Who knows...maybe we'll catch them on a good day and they'll keep your boyfriend because he's pretty." Kyle went visibly pale after that. The Myrian woman ground her teeth and removed her hand from where it hung too close to her gladius. What are you doing? The petch was that all about? She refused to acknowledge the obvious answer.
Daesk turned from the insubordinates back to the center stage. His jaw was visibly more tense than before. "Like I was saying...once we pass through this gate we'll make a stop at the outpost. The military will have horses ready for us to mount up so we can head out and finish this quickly. Any questions?" A bearded man that must've been in his fifties started to voice an inquiry, but it was Kyle's dark energy beside her that commanded her attention. The Myrian turned her head toward the archer and nudged his arm with her elbow. "What's the matter?"
"The military's providing the horses."
"So? Did you feel like a long walk?"
"No...but if the military is providing supplies, know what that means? They expect us to die. Our lives mean far less than any precious Akalak's."
"Then what's with Daesk?" Kyle snort bitterly. "He's here to just make sure we don't completely petch it up." Before she could get a chance to ponder Kyle's point, the groan of opening gates demanded her attention. Wind whipped through the opening that revealed the world beyond Riverfall, all covered in a layer of white. Daesk strut his way through to conquer the snowy wasteland in the direction of the outpost. The rest of the mercenaries fell in line behind him with Kaie and Kyle at the back. And though her expression was neutral and her manners more docile, a seething fury bubbled fiercely to life within the savage's very core.
OOC:Word Count: 47,945/50,000
Finally she'd fallen back into a familiar routine that reminded her of the average days she'd enjoyed in her perilous lifestyle only a season ago. The dawn of Syna had the Myrian woman eagerly rising like the daylight rays had woken her from death itself. Layers of covers were tossed from her body, exposing her bronze flesh to the uninviting cold of wintry air that managed to sneak beneath the door of her modest apartment. Soon enough she was flitting about the room in search of asylum in the embrace of warmer clothes. Buckskin leggings were yanked up her legs to cover what her loincloth did not. A brown leather vest was shrugged on and buttoned in the middle. Her father's gladius hung proudly from the weapon belt she fastened tight to her hips, and a pair of kukri slept soundly in the harness attached to her back. A thick cloak was then pulled about her body and secured, wrapping the jungle-born in one final layer of clothing that both battled off Morwen and concealed the blades on her person. Sitting on the floor tying the laces of her hidden-bladed boots, the young woman's amber eyes wandered toward the bow and quiver hanging on the wall across the room. Easy there, walking armory, that patronizing inner voice condescended within the confines of her head. You're half the shot you think you are, first of all. Second, there's no need to carry that much extra weight. Kaie pursed her lips. Unfortunately, her inner voice's logic was sound today. She slung a light backpack over her shoulders as she headed for the door...alas she simply couldn't help herself from snagging the spear leaning on its frame before the door slammed behind her.
A breeze greeted the Falyndar native the tick she exited the complex. A fierce scowl characterized her features and her body gave a shiver. Oh, how she longed for home. Kaie wasted no time throwing her cloak hood over her head in retaliation. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she trudged down the coated pathway through the city. Her spear was held tight in her grasp. Gotta eat, Myrian. Gotta eat. It was the best motivation she could conjure to keep her firmly on her path toward the city gates. Ever since she started getting her name out there, jobs had sluggishly started to roll in now and then. At first the jobs she was forced to complete were just absolutely pathetic, if not shameful. One Akalak needed a Nakivak astray discreetly returned, another implored her to essentially stalk another to be certain she wasn't already being courted by another. Neither job had proved as exciting or rewarding as any of the idiocy she'd willingly involved herself in back in Sunberth. Yet Mizas were Mizas, and a poor Myrian would forever be a stranded one. So she kept on. Today, however, had arrived with much more promise. No stalking. No jealousy. Just blood.
Kaie remembered standing before the posting like a fool for at least fifteen chimes when she'd first seen it. It was as if she expected the paper filled with Tukant to spontaneously start translating for her aloud. Eventually her unfortunate hunting partner at the time, Kyle, decided to relieve the woman of her frustration and read it. He'd been far briefer than the paper, that much she could tell. All he'd chosen to explain was that Riverfall's council was looking for mercenaries daring enough to travel outside the walls to bring an end to some dastard shenanigans. It was enough to pique her interest and restrain herself from falling to her knees to thank the Goddess Queen for the violent opportunity. Both eager to earn some coin, the pair had decided to accept the job and rendezvous with the rest of the assembled squad the next morning. Now that the morning had come, Kaie was only bitter the Sun Goddess could do little to make their travel through the mild tundra more pleasant. Nonetheless, as she stood off to the side near the city's guarded gates in wait for a council representative, she couldn't deny the euphoric rush that came with the risky unknown.
"Alright! Listen up!" a deep, raspy voice barked in Common above the city noise out of no where. A massive purple Akalak strode toward the small collection of rough types that scattered about Kaie's vicinity. A wicked curl came to his lips as his dark eyes scanned the audience before him. "I'm here on behalf of the city council. If you're not here to aid Riverfall in clearing out the vermin beyond the wall, clear out!" The seventeen armed mercenary folk glanced suspiciously about each other, but none had vanished in spite of the apparent squad leader's intimidation tactics. Kyle bounded up behind Kaie toward her flank with his bow in hand and quiver strapped to his back. "Lose track of time passing it with yourself?" the Myrian teased crudely just loud enough to reach the Sunberth-born archer. The corners of his lips twitched. This should be good. He edged closer to her and slipped his hand discreetly against the small of her back. "What can I say, sweetheart? The image of you under me has that effect," he purred in her ear in return. Kaie rewarded his raunchy wit with a well placed elbow subtly buried in his solar plexus. She heard the air whoosh agonizingly from his lungs and sensed his body involuntarily bending forward toward her. Now it was her turn to twitch her lips, fighting the smirk that threatened to present itself. "I'm Daesk. I was charged with command of this mission and the lot of you, so I'll only say this once. You all answer to me. You will obey my commands without protest. You will stick to the plans I set in motion. Work together as a unit and most of you will see richer days courtesy of the council." Kyle straightened up and inevitably caught his breath. His eyes focused like Kaie's on their de facto leader, who was clothed in heavy furs and showing off a fearsome great sword that hung in a large sheath at his side.
"As you are all already aware given the post that brought you here, there is a Zith group conducting raids just east of the city. The harsh winter is drawing them closer to Riverfall and putting our people at risk. We must put an end to them before they begin hunting us!" Kaie's brow furrowed. Her heart beat furiously within her chest. Zith... Just like that the Myrian was gone though her feet never moved. Gone was the boisterous commander and the random collection of mercenaries standing at attention. Not even Kyle just behind her was registered anymore. Instead she was in the Sea of Grass, tall weeds whipping about her exposed flesh a fall wind. The screeches of winged beasts crashing down from above clashed with the screams of wounded Drykas. Then there was blood that colored the grass, pooled upon the dirt, and splattered across her face. The scent of death swarmed her, the aroma of a raging make-shift pyre consumed her. And then just nothing. Just alone. "Who do you think wedged a stick up his ass?" Kaie exhaled sharply, only realizing when Kyle's muttering brought her back that she had been holding her breath. "What was that?" Daesk peered around the Myrian at the archer, whose brow raised and jaw started to fall slack. "He was just telling me how much he admired what hangs from your hips, sir," Kaie found herself explaining before she even consciously became aware of what she was doing. Her hands were clasped neatly behind her straightened back, chin raised. Daesk's brow raised and his own jaw fell flack, visibly uncomfortable as his gaze shifted quickly from the Myrian to Kyle. "Your sword, sir." One of the nearby mercenaries guffawed while another began to double over in laughter. The whisper of malignant intend she began to detect came undoubtedly from directly behind her. It was all she could do not to break the falsely earnest expression she'd spontaneously adopted for the sake of character. Daesk, rattled, grit his teeth and marched to stand nearly toe-to-toe with the savage. "You think you're a gods damned comedian, Myrian?" Her amber eyes met with his but her jaw was voluntarily wired shut. "We'll all see how gods damned funny you are when you lay eyes on twenty-five winged bastards, each with every intent of ripping your savage ass to pieces." Kyle hid his mirth behind the hand that cupped over his mouth. He wasn't nearly as nonchalant in the gesture as he thought. "Who knows...maybe we'll catch them on a good day and they'll keep your boyfriend because he's pretty." Kyle went visibly pale after that. The Myrian woman ground her teeth and removed her hand from where it hung too close to her gladius. What are you doing? The petch was that all about? She refused to acknowledge the obvious answer.
Daesk turned from the insubordinates back to the center stage. His jaw was visibly more tense than before. "Like I was saying...once we pass through this gate we'll make a stop at the outpost. The military will have horses ready for us to mount up so we can head out and finish this quickly. Any questions?" A bearded man that must've been in his fifties started to voice an inquiry, but it was Kyle's dark energy beside her that commanded her attention. The Myrian turned her head toward the archer and nudged his arm with her elbow. "What's the matter?"
"The military's providing the horses."
"So? Did you feel like a long walk?"
"No...but if the military is providing supplies, know what that means? They expect us to die. Our lives mean far less than any precious Akalak's."
"Then what's with Daesk?" Kyle snort bitterly. "He's here to just make sure we don't completely petch it up." Before she could get a chance to ponder Kyle's point, the groan of opening gates demanded her attention. Wind whipped through the opening that revealed the world beyond Riverfall, all covered in a layer of white. Daesk strut his way through to conquer the snowy wasteland in the direction of the outpost. The rest of the mercenaries fell in line behind him with Kaie and Kyle at the back. And though her expression was neutral and her manners more docile, a seething fury bubbled fiercely to life within the savage's very core.
OOC:Word Count: 47,945/50,000
