PM to join Intrusion (Nyctea)

[Allassanachassanya]

20th Autumn 521
"Speech"
"Others"

Being a slave, Ssanya missed the main event. There was little need for her to attend the launch of the new boat from the Docks, though afterwards she picked up fragments of conversation and learnt a little of what it was like. Apparently, the boat was equipped with paddles that moved the water and allowed it to be propelled forwards. Apparently, it was quite a sight. The boat was named the Little White Lie, and had departed from the Docks, attended by some of the greats of Ravok. There were the various fancy families, the well-off and well-to-do, and of course, it being an Ebon boat, the Ebonstryfe were also in attendance. From what she'd heard, anyway.

As if to welcome in the buoyant mood of the people, Thorin had propped open the doors of the workshop, and that allowed Ssanya to eavesdrop better than usual. Because of this, she'd managed to catch quite a lot of her news from the people passing the open door. As the majority of Ravokians seemed intent on celebrating to the best of their ability (and some even celebrating just a little too far past their ability), the actual business in the forge was slow. Some of the younger apprentices hadn't even turned up when they were supposed to, and with nothing else to do and no-one to order her to do make-work, Ssanya loitered with a broom in hand by the open doorway and began a serious campaign of earwigging.

The morning dragged into afternoon. The good mood had initially put a smile on Ssanya's usually emotionless face, which had surprised Davic, working nearby. Over time, and as the sun gradually sank towards the horizon, the smile wilted away. The partying hadn't abated; in fact, it was only increasing as the light faded. Someone nearby had set up a celebratory knees-up, and Ssanya could hear the raucous gathering clearly echoing over the lake. She was beginning to grow tired of hearing the same thing, over and over, about how fascinating and interesting the Little White Lie was. How exciting it was to have been in the company of so-and-so, or how amazing it was to see so many Ebonstryfe on display. It stung a little, but she was forced to acknowledge that this was because she had missed out on seeing the newfangled contraption because of the bonds of slavery. She was in no way tied to Ravok or excited for its growth or development, but she was interested in the world, and this was something new and exciting that she hadn't been able to see.

She was bitter, and she didn't like knowing that fact. It wasn't worth dwelling on, but with little else to do except continually sweep the same patch of floor, there was little else to think on.

By the time that night fell, Ssanya was in a thoroughly grumpy mood, and to compound that she had been told to not only sweep the floor, but scrub it too, which was one of her least favourite tasks. The sound of revelry was close by, and all she could do was sit in suds with a rough wad of cloth, scrubbing the floor of dirt that would only immediately resurface the moment the forge was fired up properly in the morning. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and she was deep in the sort of mindless concentration that cleaning sometimes brings along, when a mellow voice at head-height made her start.

"Ssanya, are you listening?"

She stopped scrubbing, and brushed the hair from her face with her soap-smeared, puckered hand. Whilst she'd been busy, Thorin had approached. Though he was her master and owner, it was more often that she was bossed around by the various different apprentices and other workers of the forge, so it was both a surprise and a shock to see him standing there. Scrambling to her feet, she carefully placed the wash cloth in the bucket, and stood with her head bowed respectfully, as the slave-masters of Ravok had taught her to address her 'betters.'

"I'm sorry, master. I'm listening."

Thorin appraised her carefully. Davic had told him Ssanya had been acting a little strangely recently, and it appeared he was right, though what was different about the girl, he couldn't place his finger on. Nevertheless, he had a task for her, a chance to make full use of the Dhani he'd paid good miza for.

"Girl, I need you to be something tonight. I need you to be a Dhani. Not just this... form of yours, but whatever your real shape is. Seems like that party outside might be brewing for trouble. Might not, but I want you to be on guard. I won't be having any criminal damage caused on your watch, and if any drunken idiots decide they'd like to cause a bit of trouble, I'm sure they'll sober up if they see a big snake. So, once I'm in the back, change into your form, and stay awake the night long. Just in case."

Thorin cast a glance over the girl, but she said nothing. She appeared to be waiting for something. He realised he was holding his chin in thought. "And make sure you are back to being human before anyone comes in. That's all." Ssanya murmured, "Yes, master," and Thorin nodded curtly once, before turning away to go to his quarters at the back of the workshop, leaving Ssanya alone in the dimly lit room.

She ignored the thinly veiled disgust that Thorin had failed to disguise at even the mere mention of her Dhani form. It was the kind of disgust that most Ravokians displayed towards her when they learnt of her race, or heard her sibilant speech, and realised she wasn't necessarily human. It was the kind of thing that she'd become almost used to now, though deep down it still stung. Instead, she mused on the things he'd said. Trouble. Yes, the party going on outside sounded like it had gathered a few more participants. The city guard had been more present throughout the day, but they couldn't be everywhere at once.

Abruptly, Ssanya realised with elation that she had been given express permission to become the being she had been withholding for such a long time. It took less than a chime for her to fully strip her clothes, and lit only by the light of one single, flickering candle, shift and morph into her Dhani form. It was like a particularly satisfying stretch. Bones clicked into place that hadn't clicked into place for a long time. Suddenly, the workshop seemed just that little bit smaller. She grinned, sharp teeth protruding past dark lips, and settled in for the waiting game.

WC: 1116

"Meaning Through Death"

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[Allassanachassanya]

"Speech"
"Others"

The initial excitement faded as the chimes grew to bells. With nothing to occupy her attention in the workshop, she lingered by the window listening and quietly watching the world outside. Most of Ravok was bedding down for the night, but the party down the way was still spilling out onto the canal. It was nearing midnight when the first signs of trouble started. Ssanya had begun to drift off, when she heard the distinct sound of breaking glass nearby. Rubbing her eyes, she gazed through the darkness toward the glowing beacon of light that was the party.

It was difficult to make out detail, but as she became more alert, she noticed a few things. Firstly, the party that had been safely (if noisily) tucked away inside the nearby building had spilled out not only onto the street, but also into the canal below. A couple of ladies jumped into the canal with a shriek as their companions jeered, and a gathering of young men were stood on the street talking loudly amongst themselves. Seperately, and the source of the glass-smashing sound, three men and the outline of a woman. They were closer to the forge, and shouting incoherently in an angry, drunken fashion. Some argument, from what Ssanya could gather, though the source and reason for the argument wasn't clear.

The glass smashing sound came from one individual, who had picked up his bottle and smashed it open, leaving the jagged ends protruding outwards from his tightly grasped hands as he swung the makeshift weapon wildly. Petch. Ssanya watched with wide eyes as the man threatened his companions, drawing the attention of the straggling remains of the party, who gathered round whooping and cheering like animals gathering round a watering hole.

Her view was obscured, but through the window of the forge she heard what came next. A great howling cry of pain, then an amassed, "Boooo!" from the gathered crowd, then a shout of anger. Suddenly, the gathered partygoers were all shoving and kicking in a great, boozy brawl over Gods-knew what. Ssanya sighed, and relaxed as any danger seemed to pass. The great noise would only draw the City Guards, who would clear up the mess and disperse the crowd. Any likelihood that anyone would cause trouble at the forge diminished the longer the fight lasted for. It was almost a pity.

After a few chimes of entertainment, Ssanya saw the first City Guard come barrelling into the fight, short sword flashing brightly in the light of the lanterns. She drifted from the window as the fight was dispersed and the culprits questioned, and moved quietly to settle beside the forge as she often did of a night-time. She turned around quietly, but to her surprise, the front door was ajar. She stopped dead against the wall of the workshop and did her best to blend into the shadows. An individual, a complete stranger, was inside the workshop. The noise of the fight outside had completely distracted her, and she realised that her lapse had allowed a stranger to break into the shop. Thorin's instruction would now need to be followed. Time to frighten the interloper.

Whoever it was had yet to see her, which gave her a little time to assess the person. They were clearly a member of the party, now that she could study them. She sniffed delicately and caught the faint whiff of alcohol reeling off them. They were quietly giggling to themselves, and their movements were clumsy, all hallmarks of a drunk person. Ssanya was fond of wine herself, but looking at the interloper made her feel quite glad she hadn't had the chance to touch a drop of the liquid in a while. Her eyes flicked to the door, trying to figure out how they'd got in. Chagrined, she noticed the glass in the door had been broken. Shyke.

Launching into action, she peeled herself from the shadows, and stepped into the dim halo of the candle. "Excuse me." She spoke, her voice loud in the quiet of the room. She placed emphasis on the 's', allowing her voice to tremble with Snake-tongue emphases, and relished the feeling of power that the interloper's look of pure panic gave her. She hissed, long and threatening, and at the same time began a Dhani rattle that started at the base of her tail and whipped out to the tip.

The drunkard was an idiot, but not completely stupid. When faced with a full-blown Dhani, an average citizen's best option was to run. They stumbled out of the shop floor, and then ran screaming towards the nearest City Guard. "Help, help!"

WC: 771

"Meaning Through Death"

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[Nyctea]

"Any news, Holik?"

"Yes, I figure you should know, since some of our men are going to attend an event. The first paddle-wheel-equipped ship, an Ebonstryfe vessel called The Little White Lie, set sail from the docks. There is a large celebration throughout The Docks with drink and food aplenty. I've sent some of your game there. The launch is expected to go well although things might get a bit rowdy later in the night. Don't ask me why. I don't want anything to get too out of hand."

Nyctea pursed her lips and nodded, waiting to hear if he would say more after he'd paused. She did wonder why he cared about the way the event would go.

"Are you interested in attending?"

The Kelvic furrowed her brows. She felt too old for this question, but she quickly pushed that thought away and looked up at the sky, smiling.

"I am."

"Good. I want you to come with me."

Nyctea closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them.

"And I want to go with family. I hope you understand."

"I do. Very well then. Will you do me a favour?"

"It depends on what it is," she replied, feeling her heart beating faster.

She saw him grind his jaw. It was enough to persuade her into following through.

"For you though, I'll do it. What do you need? I hope it isn't difficult," she said, assuming that she might be able to ensure that the favour would be a manageable challenge, if it comes to be something requested in return for refusing to attend the event with him.

He gave her a warm smile, glad for the agreement. Holik was aware that he was more skilled than Nyctea in the act of winning over a mind.

He could also tell that she was willing to learn.

"Hunt down Valdinox's son, Thorin.

The Valdinox Family is a strong contributor to the The Black Sun and most of the family members also hold rank within the Temple. The family matriarch, Valdinox, is one of the few female Druvin in existence and though taking many mates, she has no husband or loyalty to any specific male aside from her lord, Rhysol. Valdinox is a priestess of Rhysol and maintains domain over several acolytes and agents throughout Ravok as well as smaller temples and shrines across the region of Sylira. Valdinox is the only current non-human Druvin ever made by The Voice in that she is an Isur of the Pitrius clan. Driven from her home for long forgotten crimes, Valdinox came to Ravok seeking escape and protection from her former people. Small in size, powerfully built with a glistening black arm of her heritage, Valdinox is a wizard of respectable power and wields her faith just as strongly. The Valdinox family is made up of the matriarch, her 6 offspring; 2 boys and 4 girls aging between 27 and 50 (relatively young considering their half-blooded heritage). The family also possesses 17 slaves of varying races. The slaves of the Valdinox family are treated as property and valued as such. They are somewhat well cared for though always reminded that they are not individuals; only things to be owned by others.

If Thorin has taken on a new slave, I want to know who they are. As a Purveyor of Goods, I wish to let the Valdinox family know that I mean business. It's only natural, for a Nitrozian man. I hope you understand," he grinned before continuing, as if he was beginning to laugh but was holding it in. His dark eyes just seemed to sparkle. "Your act of kindness would be to relay the following message to Thorin," he glanced at the scroll he held in his right hand before reaching his left one behind his back to pull out a case from his pack. He put the scroll inside and handed it to Nyctea. He then described the directions to the forge on her city map before remembering that he needing to tell her something else.

"If he reads the message in front of you, do not leave. Wait for whatever he wants to do next. Will you come back to me before dusk tomorrow?"

"I will."

"Great. Thank you, Nyctea. If you want to leave the Trading Post now, you may. I would encourage you to attend the celebration with your family, if they want to attend as well. Just give the guards my name."

"Thank you, Holik. Goodnight."

"Goodnight dear."

Nyctea quirked an old brow and the middle-aged man started to laugh. With an open smile and a warm tone, she replied.

"May you not call me that? Nyctea is just fine."

"I can't give my employee a nickname?"

"Maybe not that one, boss."

"Hey," Holik was now laughing heartily. "Fine. Bye for now, slick."

Nyctea held in a groan.

"Can you-"

"Relax, will you? Kelvics these days, I swear." Holik continued laughing, his tone as smooth as ever.

Nyctea started walking, intent on an exceedingly satisfactory return. With a wave and bright yellow eyes of mischievous peace, she bid him farewell.

____

The Kelvic knocked on the open door to Thorin's Forge. She failed to care about the broken glass, nor the actions of others, since it was none of her business.

"Hello?"

Nyctea in her simple clothes and her usual travelling gear stood outside the forge in wait for a sign of life.

[Allassanachassanya]

"Speech"
"Others"

.
.
The drunken man was now quite sober mentally, but his body had yet to catch up with his brain. He had forgotten that he was the one who had broken into the property in the first place, and he came barrelling out of the forge at full pace, face as white as a sheet. He pushed open the door loudly, drawing a few sniggers from the nearby partygoers who had gathered nearby. Their laughter grew louder as he bumped into Nyctea, reeling away with arms swinging drunkenly. His eyes were bulging, and he gestured wildly into the dark interior. "Quit laughing! Help, you.. you petchers! There's a giant... monster in there!" To Nyctea, he shouted, "Don't go in there, ma'am!" Having bumped her fairly roughly, he righted himself with a sway, and continued his journey amongst a hail of taunting jibes from the disbelieving crowd.

"Guards!" The man ran up to the city guards, and began talking hurriedly, explaining with a frantic, if slightly slurred, voice. Ssanya watched carefully from the window, but didn't like the look of the guards' eyes as they glanced over. The man was a drunkard, but something had spooked him enough to genuine fright, and that was worth checking out. Ssanya cracked her neck quietly in the dark. She'd felt an inkling of power for the first time in a long time, but now was not the moment to draw attention to herself by continuing to walk around in her Dhani form. She remembered also Thorin's words, and glancing further round the corner, she could also spy an elderly woman who was lingering by the doorway. There were too many people around for her to be spotted, and she'd already petched up enough by not keeping a close enough guard on the front of the workshop.

Softly, she changed back to her human form. Less than a chime later, she was climbing into her cool, crumpled clothes, a plain grey top and hard-wearing woollen trousers. It was a good job she had, too, as the commotion had drawn Thorin from his bed and into the main body of the forge. Ssanya, knowing that nothing good could come of the evening's activities, briefly acknowledged Thorin then busied herself with lighting the lanterns. Anything to look busy, and more importantly, innocent. A couple of guards had also detached from their unit and were approaching the broken door.

"What's this all about?" Thorin was not normally a hard man, but this was his forge, and he had been awoken prematurely. Ssanya could sense the bad mood rolling off him by the gravelly texture of his tone, but she had no idea how to answer him, other than to admit that she had messed up. "I..."
"What's going on here then?" A city guard pushed open the door, revealing Nyctea to Ssanya, and vice versa. Thorin stood behind his slave, his dark hair ruffled from sleep and his eyes hard and unfriendly. The guard dipped his head respectfully to the Kelvic as he passed, and to Thorin as he entered the shop. "I've heard that man out there explaining that there was a giant monster in here. No disrespect meant, sir, but if that's the case..-"

He broke off as he stood on the broken glass that littered the entrance-way. Darkly, Thorin gestured to Ssanya. "Clean that up, girl." She hurriedly did as he bid her, casting a curious glance at Nyctea as she did. The woman was elderly, but her gaze was piercing and somewhat unnerving, especially as her eyes gleamed in the lamp-light. She wasn't quite sure why, but Ssanya wasn't entirely sure she liked this stranger. She was a peculiar addition to the evening's events, and one that didn't quite fit in fully anywhere. She wasn't a party-goer, that much was obvious by her composure and plain clothing. She wasn't a guard, and she wasn't a thief... probably.

Ssanya mulled the woman's origins as she swept away the broken glass. She tipped it into the bin, and then with a sinking feeling saw Thorin gesturing her over. "Explain, girl. What happened?" Her master and the guards were paying attention to her now. Quickly gathering her composure, Ssanya stood demurely, and folded her hands in front of her. Figuring the best type of lie was one that had the basis in truth, she said, "I was told to look after the shop floor, by my master. A dozed off, and that man broke in. I frightened him from the shadows to make him go away."

"Hmm. Is that so?" The guard looked her over, clearly wondering how such a slight girl such as her could frighten a full-grown Ravokian. Her speech was badly mangled too, as if she had some kind of speech impediment, and her Common had a foreign accent. It did seem unlikely, but not impossible... "Lady, did you see anything? You were nearby at the time." The guard gestured Nyctea over. "Anything that you could advise would be helpful."

WC: 828

"Meaning Through Death"

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[Nyctea]

"Guard, I arrived at this forge with a purpose and failed to see anything. My advice would be to ask someone else. I am here to relay the following message to Thorin," Nyctea said, insensitively. She gestured to the case in her hands.

She then remembered to add another peice of information.

"Guard, I am interested in attending the celebration with family," she said, referring to the Ravok families, while speaking to those who were present. "Holik sent me here, and he wants to know if Thorin has taken on a new slave." Again, she gestured to the case.

"Hello," Nyctea waved to the people in front of her. "Who here is Thorin?"

"That would be me," said the Valdinox, gruffly. "I know Holik, but he does not need to know who my slave is. What do the Nitrozians have to say this time?" The question was asked while holding out one hand, a tool in his other, since the son of one of the daughters of Valdinox was probably never caught looking like he was not working, assumed Nyctea.

Today was no ordinary day, afterall.

Opening the case, he began to read. Murmurmed to himself, before finally,

"Nitrozian Plaza, Nitrozian business. Fine," he said. "It says here that he is offering to buy my place, does it?" This time, Thorin looked to the old woman.

"I don't know what the message says," she paused, glancing over to the person who referred to their master. "Who are you," said Nyctea, decisively. It was more blunt than questioning in tone. Having watched the neatness in sweeping, Nyctea softened. "Er, and how are you?" She asked, smiling warmly.

"Woman, I told you once, don't make me repeat myself. My slave will not speak to you."

"Sorry, I'm here on business, and I must finish it. Who will tell me who she is?" said Nyctea, confidently.