The Gaunt and The Spindly (Nasilia)

[Istril]

43rd of Winter, 510 After Valterrian

Alvadas, for once, had been kind to Istril. When she awoke this morning, the ever-shifting paths had seen it fit to give her a lovely alcove to train. Right next to the inn within which she was staying. Perhaps the Gods had felt sorry for her, and this was their way of apologizing for all the illogicalities of the city. She had, after all, been complaining about how she needed to get out to her close family for more than a few days now. Maybe they had arranged something with the mysterious path-designer of the city to arrange this nice little place next to them, if only to get her to shut up. Who knew, all that really mattered to her was that the alcove was there, likely only for that day, and by Gnora and Logic, she was going to make full use of it. As soon as the sun had risen high enough in the sky to cast an eerie dawn light throughout the City of Illusions, she was out the door like a shot, taking nothing but her robe and a waterskin with her. Once outside, the stoic individual took a hard right, shooting down the long alley into the grass-filled garden-like area, something that, put simply, seemed entirely out of place. She, of course, would not complain.

Without even thinking, she sat down, feeling the dew soak into the fabric of her robe. A neutral expression on her face, she folded her legs, placing her hands on her knees. Already, before she was even comfortable in her position, she was converting the djed that made up her being into the substance that was the cornerstone of her magic. Eventually, about thirty seconds later, to be precise, a small amount had made its way out of her body through her breath, hovering before her as a slightly blue-tinted gas. Her eyes did not open to inspect the gas, however. Instead, she felt it with her mind as she guided it as a collective whole into the center of the alcove. With her mind blanked, save for the image of the unshapely blue orb moving across the alcove, her will its propellant, Istril evened out her breath. Or, at least, she tried to. Meditation was always one of the harder things for her. She could never sit still and purge her mind of thought like she was supposed to. Always, eternally, she wanted to squirm, wanted to stand up and do something, but that was illogical. Then again, so was sitting here doing nothing more than purging her th- shyke, she was letting her mind wander. Doing her best, she reigned her thoughts back in, returning to the moving ball of gaseous Res.

Now that it hovered a few feet above the center of the alcove, Istril's mind took the next step. By sheer force of mind, she willed that her Res, that part of her, would attract the dew, the water that covered the dark green grass. As soon as she willed this, it happened, a miracle of the art of magic she was learning. The water vapor in the air began to collect around the ball of Res, soon accompanied by droplets of water, ones that shot towards the gaseous orb eagerly, as if they had been starved and were being fed for the first time in centuries. The moment all of the water from the ground had collected around the ball of Res, she willed that it halt its attraction, leaving her with an orb floating in the air, held up only by her will, extended through her outstretched hand, her palm and fingers angled ever so slightly towards the ground. Silently, she approached the water and res ball, uncorking the waterskin in her other hand with a single push of her thumb. The cap tapped against the side melodically as she extended it, bringing her will-bearing arm downwards slightly, shifting her elbow and her fingers in a graceful, flowing motion as she did so, snaking the Res into the mouth of the waterskin.

Brown eyes watched as the water vanished into the waterskin, only a small amount splashing out down the sides of the skin. With her water and the Res secured in the skin, she pushed with one last force of mind, urging the Res to transmute into the element she was familiarizing herself with. It did. As she willed it to, so it did. The gaseous state transformed into a liquid one, and from that liquid state, it transformed into water, mixing seamlessly with the water from the air and the dew-soaked grass. Without another word, she brought the skin to her lips, tilting it upwards to allow some of the liquid to drip down into her mouth. Delicious. Clean. Pure. This would be her water supply as she trained today. The cap found its way back onto with a little sucking sound as the seal was created, and then she tossed it aside, exhaling sharply as her quick movements were made. Now began the true regimen of the day. A long series of stretches loosened the muscles of her precious body. Only when they were fully stretched did she begin.

Once more, she began to produce precious Res. Unfortunately, she would need a lot more than the little amount she had used for her dew trick earlier. Sleeves were quickly pulled up, collars pulled away from her neck as she began ex-foliating liquid Res from the pores of her skin. The translucent blue liquid blended in with the shimmer of her tinted skin to the casual onlooker, but the truth was not that hard to deduce. A full minute had produced all the Res she needed, a thin layer over the entirety of her body. The wiser part of her told her not to make anymore Res for a while. She was pushing it as it stood. With one strong movement, and an equally strong push of her mind, she flung the liquid from her body, pushing both her gem arm and her flesh arm outwards. Her mind guided the Res so that it hovered just a few inches before her outstretched palms, collecting into a ball. The moment the ball was compacted, she transmuted the outer layers, watching as the once-liquid Res shifted into solid rock. Still feeling her Res on the inside, she released her control with her gem arm, feeling her will strain in her flesh arm.

Drawing her gem arm back, she launched her flesh arm into the air, the rock flying with it. The moment before it left her control, the Res became rock from her will, and she gasped slightly at the required exertion. Still, she was not one to slack. She would continue no matter how exhausted she became. Her torso rotated, her gem arm preparing itself. When the Res-borne rock made its way back down to earth, she swung at it, using her gem arm like a primitive club, as was one of her trademarks when fighting unarmed. Sadly, she missed. Instead of shattering, the rock thumped onto the ground with a resounding sound that matched the verb. She would have to try again. Already, she was urging more Djed to the surface of her skin. Just a little bit. Despite the fact it was still early morning, she was beginning to feel like she had taken a long run. Reimancy took its toll on those who practiced it. This djed flew from her skin with a movement not too dissimilar from the movement that she had made a minute or two ago, and a few more quick movements and strong forces of will urged the Res into a ball, one which she willed to attract the element of Earth. It did so. Dirt began to fly up from the ground in clumps, something that discomforted her a bit, as it collected around her Res with her rock.

Not willing to let the rock and dirt accumulate more, she threw it into the air, transmuting the Res once more before it left her zone. This time, however, she would not miss the rock on its trajectory back down to Mizahar. Her brown eyes watched as its upward momentum came to a complete stop. Lips were licked as it soared back down to earth. Her torso snapped back into position, her arm coming along with it, cleaving right through where the rock fell to. The rock shattered into at least a dozen pieces, shooting off to the left, the opposite direction of her swipe, along with the hundreds of pieces of dirts and small rocks that had soared up to join the magnetic ball of Res. In this moment of triumph, a small smile played across her face. No doubt, happiness was in alignment with logic at this point in time. She had succeeded in something she had practiced for ages. Happiness was permitted.

Of course, to any onlookers, this whole display was no doubt somewhat confusing and frightening, considering the fact that she had created earth, and attracted earth and water like an elemental magnet...

[Nasilia]

So this was the place...

She heard rumors of such a strange city, that beyond the Gaping Maw there was nothing she could do to navigate through it save sheer luck. Still even with the randomness of the city, people still functioned and worked, meaning they could find their ways to their shops. It must have been bothersome to do, but considering what kind of folk could stand living in such a place, perhaps people didn't mind if the shopkeeper was late simply because he had to go from one side of the city to the other that day.

A strange place for strange people...

That was hardly an issue when the thought of her mother crossed her mind; she was still missing, and she had heard rumor that she had been seen here. There was no more talk of it as it was something that wasn't unusual or frightening to say the least. It did mean she came through here though, and it meant she was that much closer though due to the vagueness of the information, she would have little hope of finding her soon. She was going to have to take baby steps.

She took to the rooftops in order to see where she was going and look down on the people who were passing by, hoping that maybe she was still here and could catch a glimpse of her. Anyone who was intelligent enough would not have stayed here very long with a Symenestra female; they would have moved on.

The things that could be happening to her...no she couldn't cry now. She had to keep moving.

CRACK!

Blinking in surprise, she caught sight of the feminine Isur from atop the building she had leaped on, watching her play with what appeared to be summoned stone. A magic user no doubt, though she herself was not fluent in such a tongue as magic to know exactly what it was she was doing. But from her observations, she assumed she was a novice. Sadly they were usually more dangerous than the masters, simply because they could cause accidental disasters more often. At least with an evil wizard, one could predict some of their actions.

She shook off her suspicions as there seemed to be no need for such. She hardly look malicious. The lithe pale woman would leap to another building, then another, feet planted against the roof tops as she did this. Slowly she would lower herself down into an alleyway nearby and step out from the shadows of the narrow passageway, watching in curiosity what the Isur was up to.

Deciding to take a break from her search, she said, "Looks difficult." She leans against a nearby wall and looks down at the broken stone, then back at her with a glint of curiosity in her eye.

[Istril]

Her heart told her to jump in fright, but her mind told her to disregard that. Fear was never a logical emotion. It drove people to act unreasonably, to flee and abandon that which they held dear for no reason other than they felt that it would be right. Fear was not something that she would fear when one random passerby appeared from the darkness and began speaking to her. More likely than not, this was simply another foot commuter in a huge city, one that had stumbled down a street that had, yesterday, led to their job, but, today, led to the beautiful alcove in which she worked. She should have expected this, and she should have prepared for this. That would have been logical and reasonable. In her mind, she chastised herself for not thinking of this sooner.

Physically, she turned around, facing the newcomer, tilting her red-haired head, her lips pressed into a small line. “It is somewhat difficult, yes,” she said simply, in a voice devoid of emotion. She had gotten off somewhat fortunately, though, it appeared. This woman was not of a party that stood on a platform of extreme opposition to magic. If she was, she would have no doubt opened the conversation with something a little more hostile than a friendly, “looks difficult.” Then again, it was hard to live in a city where the very streets shifted beneath you and hate magic logically. It was such a part of the lives of everyone who lived here, just judging by the layout of the streets, that saying one hated it made as much sense as someone saying they hated breathing. “It is an act of will more so than one of physical exertion, though it is exhausting,” she then added, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her flesh-arm left hand. The waterskin was hurriedly uncapped, and a swig of the delicious, pure water found its way down through her lips.

As they stood there in their mutual silence together, Istril began scanning for the avenue of approach from whence the person had come, even before she actually took in the physical appearance of the woman before her. She couldn’t have come from the only alley leading into the alcove—Istril had been able to see that from where she was practicing—which meant that she had to have approached from the rooftops. A curious eyebrow was raised. One had to be foolishly braved, idiotically stupid, or both to attempt acrobatics upon the rooftops of Alvadas. From what she had seen, the buildings could change under her very feet, causing her to fall down through them, slamming into the rooftop of a building that had, just a moment ago, been beneath her feet. Not to mention, the people of *any* city didn’t take particularly kindly to any person walking around nonchalantly on their rooftops. It was illogical, when there were streets. What did she hope to achieve? A broken leg from a fall? A little nausea from the heights? In fact, how did she even get down?

Curious eyes scanned the wall upon which she leaned for foot and handholds, only finding them after around ten seconds of searching. Even when she found them, she carefully noted that the small series of notches were too far apart for her to make any sort of use of. Clearly, someone was a little more skilled than her, and a little taller, if they were able to reach those. This woman did not have any intention of leaving, it appeared, so if she was going to remain and observe out of mere curiosity, she would at least let her do so with the courtesy of a name. "I am Istril Ironfist, Weight of the Cult of Ano," Istril introduced herself simply, not even allowing a slight bow. She stood ramrod straight across from Nasilia, only now taking in the appearance of the woman.

It was... unnerving for the Isur. For her entire life, she had been raised amongst short, stout people, with limbs as thick as the trunks of trees. This woman, though, she was the exact opposite. She was tall, standing at least a full foot over her, with limbs that flowed out like spindly appendages. She looked frail, almost sickly, like she had neglected her body care throughout her life and this was the way she had developed, because she didn't devote as much time to its care as the Isur did to theirs. Was she human? She looked similar enough to all of the humans she had seen in Alvadas, but something about her seemed just a little different. Her limbs seemed almost disproportionate to her body, even more so than the most disproportionate humans she had seen. Her arms were lo- wait... what were those on her hands? Were those claws? Istril only narrowly prevented herself from furrowing her brow in shock. Show no emotion. This person was clearly not human. Humans did not grow claws. Nor did they have crimson eyes, now that she thought about it. What *was* this woman? She seemed so... inhuman. Even her toes sprouted claws, which also looked sharp enough to pierce even her thick Isurian hide.

One thing, though, penetrated Istril's thoughts. Gnora did her duty of balancing the world a little too well. While the Isur were short and hefty, this woman was tall and lanky. If only she could balance the world as well as Her. She would just have to satisfy herself with balancing herself and the world around her, for now.

[Nasilia]

Nasilia could tell that this woman was obviously not used to seeing Symenestra before. She hadn't seen one of her kind in town so of course she would conclude that. Perhaps the Isur was simply being nice? Despite how hypocritical it sounded in her head, she found her formalities a little unsettling. It felt so forced that she felt it would tax her mental health if she were put in a situation that tested her ability to use such a personality.

In any case, she was prompt to introduce herself to her, and she pretended to know what she was talking about when she said 'cult'. She used magic, and she was part of a cult: it made sense, and she felt there was no need to inquire further about it. She felt a little awkward in her presence simply because she seemed semi-fake, though the more she said that in her head the more she felt a little bad for giving such a mean judgment so readily.

The lanky woman licked the corner of her lip and says, "Nasilia...from your reaction I assume you've never met one of my kind. It's a shame, because I was in search for one of my kind which suggests to me that you would not have seen her before." She frowns and looks down at the ground with a somber look on her face. Even though she didn't expect Istril to know where her mother went, it still made her wonder if she would find her in vast world.

She didn't want to cry in front of a stranger so she moved onto something else. The mention of her kind remained as the last social impression Nasilia made, so in an attempt to change the subject subtly, she says, "If you are wondering, which I am almost sure you are, I'm a Symenestra...in layman's terms I am one of the spider folk. We have a bittersweet reputation, though I'm sure you'd rather not hear political talk from a stranger. I'm sorry if I interrupted your practice."

[Istril]

It was funny, at times, how the world could bring like-minded, or at least like-goaled, people together. Just as Istril had come to Alvadas searching for her fleeing cousins and her departed brother, all of which she had found, this woman came to Alvadas looking for someone of her kind, probably one close to her. Perhaps Alvadas was just a location that sucked people in from all around, specifically people that were searching for answers to their questions. That had a certain air of irony around it. People coming to Alvadas for answers. There were no answers to be had in this city, none in the slightest. It was just one mystery after the next. Shifting streets, moving buildings, illogical people... Oh, what she would give to have an answer as to what was wrong with Alvadas. As this train of thought was going on, already approaching a station that had become a little too familiar during her brief time in Alvadas, the woman across from her was already apologizing, identifying herself as a spider person. Istril counted only four limbs. Curious. Without hesitation, Istril countered her comment with one of her own, approaching as she did so, leading for a hilarious sight when she finally came to her side, considering Istril didn't even reach five feet in height.

"Gnora and the Ano teach that all must be balanced. By interrupting my training time, you have given me time to rest, and time to expand my knowledge. Do not apologize for that which allows both to grow, but instead, make the best of it, and grow," she said simply, shrugging ever so slightly. "I would have had to rest, anyway. I was... using too much magic. I did not balance my body and magic, Gnora forgive me," with all of that said, Istril fell to the ground, folding her legs beneath her, so that she was cross-legged. With her hands on her knees, she began to equal out her breathing, motioning for the tall woman beside her to take a seat with her. "What is it you did for a living before searching for this person that is close to you, Nasilia? Were you a weaver, a tailor, a smith? I know nothing of your kind, as I assume you know nothing of mine. Share with me, so that I may share with you, and we may both learn and grow."

Though she spoke to Nasilia, she did not turn to meet her. Instead, she faced front, her eyes closed. Already, she was plotting. This woman seemed decent enough, malleable enough, eager enough to learn... Perhaps she could be enlightened, taught that balance was the ultimate goal that one in the world should seek. Istril would have to wait and see just how this conversation played out before she could decide. After all, she was only a Weight, hardly bearing enough knowledge to keep her own actions in check, let alone those of others. There was nothing wrong, however, with introducing the principles of the cult, the principles of balance inside and out, to those around her. For all she knew, she could make a new recruit in this illogical city. Time, and her reactions, would be the judges.

[Nasilia]

Nasilia listened to Istril's words with little interest not because she was being facetious, but she had realized this was one less person who knew. She never expected her to know; she was just one random person in a random city. It seemed her search was starting to narrow in leads, and it was these thoughts that distracted her some though she did notice the gesture from this woman to go ahead and sit down beside her. She supposed she could tolerate lost time seeing how most of it was being wasted wandering aimlessly in an upside down city.

She folded her legs under her, and based on her posture and form, her legs and arms were most certainly disproportional by human standards. She listened a little longer until Istril addressed her with a question concerning her profession. She didn't answer immediately since she didn't really have one, but she did manage to finally say, "I clean the home. I still live with my immediate family, and I don't really have any professional skills. I suppose that's simply ineptness on my part."

She stared down at her lap, wondering what her mother would say in response to that. Nasilia never felt accomplished, just another link in the spider web of Kalinor simple as that. It wasn't always a bad thing to be that; not everyone could be special even they were told they were at birth. The fact that one is even special to begin with implies they have some innate talent of some sorts. She added, "And what could said about you?"

[Istril]

Istril remained silent as Nasilia explained her skills-- or rather, her lack of skills-- to her. All that the lanky Symenesta would receive as an immediate response was a short nod of the head, followed by a sharp intake of breath as Istril responded without a moment's worth of hesitation to the questions posed to her. "You must understand, first, what I lived in. I am of a clan that values power above all else, at any cost. Professions are not quite as apparent as one would hope they were, instead filled with people vying for power in the shadows. In such matters, emotions often cloud one's judgement, and one slip up in this game can lead to the ruination of one's name. As such, some of us have found it prudent to abandon worldly things such as emotions, balancing our actions, following the paths that are most logical, as put forward by Gnora," Istril paused, taking in a series of deep breaths.

"Though I hold no profession, I am a reimancer and a warrior. I have, in the past, dabbled in the art of smithing, but it was more out of necessity than out of any great enjoyment of the craft," she then stated, making it a tad bit more understandable. "Reimancy and physical combat balance one another. One is a discipline of the mind, one is a discipline of the body," she then stated quietly, extending her hands. She held them about shoulder-width apart, at an entirely equal level, which made for an interesting sight, considering one was made of black stone while the other was made of a blueish flesh.

"Everything in this world is a part of a series of scales, but the most important scales to balance are the scales within yourself. Unless these scales are balanced, logic is clouded," Istril began, still holding her hands level. "See, let us say that this side," she wiggled her flesh-covered arm, "is mental pursuits, while this arm," the other shook, "is pursuits of the body. When they are balanced, when equal time is devoted to the pursuits of the mind and the pursuits of the body, one finds that the scales are balanced, and when they are balanced, one reveals that logic," finally finishing her little speech, she lowered the hands that formed the scale, turning one softly as if opening a locked door.

"Now, what do you believe in, Nasilia? You are not a member of cults, but all have unique views, especially those of a kind different to one's own."

[Nasilia]

Nasilia could easily find several hypocrisies in the philosophy. By removing emotions so readily, one had an unbalanced love for logic though she assumed she would retort with something along the lines of 'we all have to draw the philosophical line somewhere.' She also felt pity for this one as she knew that if her people were in constant search of power that they were constant rivals rather than allies, a time of which would only take place if both would benefit. But Istril was an emotionless husk as she just admitted so she didn't really care, it's not like she could really get offended by such a lifestyle. Besides, she thought, she might feel the same way about her lifestyle in Kalinor.

She didn't push the issue further knowing that it would only lead to a headache and instead said, "Well in any case, I'm looking for another of my kind though it seems I may to continue my search elsewhere. However I'm starting to realize I'm wasting my time because this city changes consistently, making any criminal who wanted to hide out here invisible to anyone unfamiliar with the place. It's obvious now why the clues led to here, the kidnappers knew by the time I figured out how to navigate through this place, they would be long gone."

Nasilia's features gave a slightly pained twitch at the thought of failure. Still she had divulged plenty of information, and unless Istril sincerely knew something, then she was taking to a wall. Nasilia felt she should go but this odd one didn't really mind her being here at all, so going or staying felt awkward to her.

[Istril]

Istril looked confused for a few long moments, as if she was going over some information in her mind. It was only after a while that she spoke, her tone laced with curiosity and a lack of understanding when it came to the inner workings of the city. "I do not understand," she stated, "why one would ever construct a gatekeeper that allows entrance to a party where one member does not speak for themselves. One would imagine that they would design it to deny access if there were a possibility of one being brought not of their own choice, but then again, nothing is logical in this city," she ended her speech by rising to her feet, furrowing her brow even more. "The question is, why would one come here, of all places, if they were taking someone somewhere? The answer to that is that it has access to the Suvan, and from there, they can go anywhere. The greater question, however, is where do they intend to go..." she trailed off, looking off into the sky. She remained in this stance for ten seconds, and then began speaking once more, counting on her fingers as she stated city names.

"Though I have not left my mountain home much, I know for a fact that Syliras is a bastion of law and order. It is insane to believe that whomever it was whom took your mother would go there. The only other city I know of that has access to the Suvan is Riverfall, a city filled with warrior-men, but I know little more of them than that," with the two cities that bordered the Suvan listed, she turned back to Nasilia, tilting her head. "However, east is not the only direction that the pair could have gone. It is possible that they traveled west, to Zintila's City, though of the little I have heard of that city, I understand that it is quite similar to Syliras when it comes to the intensity of its enforcement," she took a brief pause, exhaling slowly, all inflections of emotion leaving her face as the breath went with it. When she spoke again, it was with a level tone, devoid of any hint of emotion. It was the sort of tone that one would adopt when informing someone that someone close to them had passed away, which in a sense, was exactly what Istril was about to do.

"It is, I am afraid, also quite likely that she is... no longer with us, depending on how long she has been gone. Unless this is something grander than simple revenge, carrying an unwilling person through the Unforgiving simply seems like too much extra weight. It is another mouth to feed and more weight to carry. If this was only revenge, I am sorry to be the one to say this, it is fairly likely your mother is deceased within the mountains, and this search is all in vain. If this is the case, then I am sorry for your loss." Istril held up one hand, raising each finger individually as she went along. "You are presented with five options, Nasilia, and in order to make the most logical decision, you must make your decision without being influenced by emotions. Think. Why are you searching for your mother? Is it logical to continue searching for her when it is as likely for her to be dead as it is for her to be alive? What of your family and your people? If you fail on this journey, and succumb to the dangers around us, they have lost two instead of one. On that note, if you cease now, you will never find her. If she is still alive, she will be lost to your family and your people, just as she is now. You can go to Syliras, Riverfall, Zintila's City, stay here in Alvadas, or give up," finally done speaking, Istril returned her hands to her side.

"Well, Nasilia? What is logical?"

[Nasilia]

Nasilia didn't want to listen to Istril any longer. Despite her truthful words, the emotionless machine of a person felt toxic. No one who was that extreme in their thinking could truly be taken seriously as an empathetic person, but she didn't expect her too. She also took in the possibility that her emotions were in on this, so she simply decided right then and there to stop the conversation before she got angry and lashed out at her out of sheer pain. She was also hungry, and that meant her venom was much more potent. Istril could defend herself most likely, but she didn't care.

Nasilia's face became expressionless as she stated, "I suppose I have let my emotions control me on this one. If I had thought logically, I would have already determined that a meager housewife of a meaningless and lowly position was in over her head thinking she could find folks craftier than herself. I am sorry that I even brought this up or bugged you. I am going to leave for home immediately."

She didn't give her much time to respond though if she quickly interjected she'd obviously get a word in edgewise, but something told her that she might not even do that. She would start off on her way, wanting to get to her temporary lodgings as quickly as possible.