A Chance Meeting [Rhuryc]

[Larina]

Spring 50, 511 AV A frigid gust of northern wind whipped through the air and buffeted the poor Kelvic as she trudged through the ever present snows of Avanthal. Larina gasped at the sudden blast of air and felt an icy tingle down her throat. Giving an unconscious shudder, she pulled her wool cloak tightly around her neck, but recoiled as the long spikes of her greaves brushed against her cheek. The metal points were so cold from the unyielding winter that they burned her skin with just a graze. Was every day like this? She had heard that the northern reaches never truly thawed and was prepared to battle the chill. But, no one had ever mentioned how the winds could be so relentless that it felt as though they could freeze bone itself. In a moment of unbridled and irrational panic, Larina briefly toyed with the idea that she may actually be freezing from the inside out. Spurred by the thought of a horrible icy death, Larina immediately sought refuge indoors. Her feet instinctively wandered to one of Avanthal’s central buildings; the Crystal Hall. The majestic structure shimmered with the light that was magnified by its colossal windows, and every inch of the place spoke of the warmth inside. It was like one of the Watchtowers; a virtual beacon of radiance guiding Larina in from the harsh winter. Her eyes glowed happily at the thought as she made her way up the twisting stairwells of the hall. Yet, the wind was determined that she would not make it to the sanctuary indoors, and blew even more furiously at her ascent. Larina grit her teeth and pushed onward. Every step was like championing a bit of winter itself as she crushed small piles of snow beneath her heel. Finally at the top of the stairwell, Larina pulled open the great doors of the Crystal Hall and was greeted by a warm breeze, which seemed to wrap around her body and pull her inside. Larina was immensely pleased with her little victory over the frost and was rewarded in full by the happy glow of the great hall. Closing her eyes for but a moment, Larina breathed in the balmy air and believed that she could actually feel her innards begin to thaw. Her shining eyes now surveyed the large room, however any blissful feelings she had quickly faded away. There were many people in the hall. Too many for her to ever feel comfortable. Even though she had spent a full year in the bustling city streets of Syliras, Larina had never gotten used to crowds. And at the very least, while she was in Syliras, the Kelvic had her mistress to calm her nerves. But now Lady Ilahi was gone, and she was quite alone among dozens of new people. Larina instinctively tensed up and clenched her fists as she tried to move away from the most populated areas of the hall. Why exactly did people want to live in this frozen wasteland anyways? There was nothing here which should draw in crowds. She, in any case, had good reason to visit Avanthal. Not that she knew how to get what she needed, or even where to begin looking…But that wasn’t the problem right now! It was the people who willingly chose to live in Avanthal that bothered her. Yes, them. The people that chose to live in Avanthal and were now all cloistered in this tiny, stinking hall! Who could gang up on her, or take advantage of her obedience, or use her for money, or steal her belonging, or run a blade right through her stoma- Be calm. Words echoed in the scared little Kelvic’s head which were not her own. A blurry memory prickled in the back of her mind: a ray of sunlight, the smell of mint, the touch of someone else’s hand in hers. A soothing tide of feelings flooded Larina’s body and relaxed her stance. She would be just fine. Composed somewhat, Larina headed towards one of the brilliant windows in the Crystal Hall. Her eyes still darted around the rest of the room, quickly sizing up the other members of the hall with a golden flash. Larina had regained her sense of clam, but not so much that she would neglect to assess her surroundings. The Vantha seemed to pay her little attention, much to her liking, yet she did note that one or two of them could be a considerable threat if provoked. But the atmosphere was far from hostile. This meeting place was tranquil, if not a bit jovial, in nature. Clearly, the other people were also enjoying the respite from the cold in such a grand place. Larina sat herself on the sill of one of the towering windows. A few beams of sunlight peaked through the cloudy sky and were caught in the reflection of the glass. Larina looked down at her hands to see a colorful little rainbow of light dancing across her fingers as she wiggled them. A light grin played at her lips as she settled into her stoop. Glancing outside, Larina gazed across the tundra of Avanthal. Still being new to the town, many of the sights were wholly unfamiliar to her, yet all of them begged to be explored. There were the holds, of course. None of which she had been in just yet. But more interestingly, Larina could see ice sculptures in the distance as well as a crystalline lake, no doubt permanently frozen in the north. Someday I’ll poke around, she sighed and wrinkled her nose, if the blizzards devour me first.

[Rhuryc]

There was beauty in noise. In loud, obnoxious prattling, the mixture of voices had its own intricacies, a myriad of exchanges all with their own quirks and failings. An unintentional symphony. It held its own flow, a vibrant melody that pounded a chaotic rhythm with a sweet, subtle harmony that each player wove with little more than their presence. Few noticed such things. Few cared. The joyous clatter and cacophony of the Vantha was enough on its own. Songs and tall tales of adventure and strife, romance, underlying philosophy and meanderings, the hypnotic pattern of life was intoxicating. And so it was that Rhuryc listened. There was no place like it. This hall. Brilliant in architecture, wealthy in grace, the craftsmanship shown even brighter with the addition of its people. The simple, complex, wonderful Vantha. Syliras held its own music, its own way, but here Rhuryc was drawn to the tunes of life, or perhaps captured by it. He was not sure which. Although he did not belong. Everything about the man was foreign. He was tall, blond, and his eyes did not change color. His clothing held a southern style to it. A simple coat over a plain tunic and breeches, thick leather boots and not a single ounce of fur to be seen. The colors were dull, brown, meant for a city more so then this peculiar habitat. He held tanner skin then most. A gruff sort of beard and no mustache, hard drawn features, and a muscled, knightly form. His demeanor spoke warrior, but his countenance drew a quiet sort of contemplation, the way a craftsman approached a blank canvas. He studied. He watched. He molded. He saw the faults and flaws, but he imagined what could be, not what was. Perhaps the sword at his side kept the occasional passerby from conversation. Yet somehow disturbing the man felt wrong, as if he were musing upon the world's greatest questions. Or just looking out a window. Rhuryc was no great philosopher. He admired the country side, his gaze fixated on the snow. Some time passed before he noticed a flicker of movement, a new form out of the corner of his eye. Hm? A slight turn of the head brought his attention to the young girl. Another foreigner? She did not see him. Albeit he did not blame her, he was still, quiet, his back stiff from having been such for so long. She blocked a portion of his view. Did she know? Did she speak Common? She looked Southern. Too many damn questions. "If you look hard enough," Rhuryc said, his gruff baritone cutting through the stray noise like a knife. Neat trick, that. "You can make out some of the sculptures. I think I like them better up close." He spoke in Common, yet why he addressed the girl remained a mystery to even himself. Perhaps he just wanted someone to talk to. The Vantha had already had their fun at teasing his Vani.

[Larina]

Truly, the Avanthal landscape was beautiful. The girl had never seen the city from such a good vantage point and had never realized its charms. It was as though the town below were fake, as if craftsman had created the little houses and roads, dusted them with a pure coat of white, and set them on display behind the protective panes of glass. Larina pressed her nose against the cold window and the frost from her breath made the scene even more whimsical. While Larina held no previous affection for snow, she could certainly appreciate how visually pleasing it made the city look and that gave it some merit. She swung her legs up on the stone windowsill, feeling much more content than moments prior, and casually wondered whether or not it was possible for her to later recreate the image on a drawing pad. However as the Kelvic sank into thought, a voice from behind broke the tranquil spell the cityscape had cast over her. The deep tones seemed to travel over the others without being loud or harsh. She shifted her interest back to the hall, at first simply curious to know who could make their speech carry such weight. But then, Larina was wholly surprised to find the words were, in reality, directed at her. Even more astonishing was the fact the source of the voice was a man sitting across the way from her, and she had completely overlooked him in her earlier panic. Now her attention focused on him solely, taking in his presence in a blink. He was obviously foreign and almost indecently so. Every feature of the man clashed with the typical Vantha figure, from the light color of his hair down to the cavalier way he sat in his chair. However, what drew Larina’s full attention was his frame, though not for aesthetic purposes as many would. The foreigner was well built, and his strength could clearly outmatch her own. If this truth did not make him an immediate danger, the sword dangling at his side most certainly did. Larina slowly pulled her knees to her chest and pushed her back against the stone wall, like a spring being carefully loaded. Her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his actions, yet bore very little fear. Focusing in on one distinct threat was far easier than trying to assess the motivations of an entire crowd of people. Already she was thinking about her plan of action if the man’s hand ever strayed to the scabbard. In her shock at the foreigner’s appearance, Larina almost missed the actual words he spoke. With a second jolt, she realized that not only was he speaking Common, but the man also had the familiar drawl of a Sylirian. Larina tilted her head slightly to the side and mulled on this for a moment before she realized that now she, of course, had the obligation to reply. What had he said again? Something about being able to cut her in half without batting an eye? No, no no. That’s just what she had heard. What did he actually say? Hmmm…Right! Ice sculptures! What the hell- What was all that nonsense about? Oh, oh! Outside, of course. She had just been looking out the window, after all. Roger. Got it. “I haven’t had the chance to see them myself. Though, word has it that they are quite lovely,” Larina answered, even managing to put on a little smile. Look at that. She could be downright pleasant to the man who was doubtless going to run her through with that blade. Might as well keep at it then. “I don’t think I would make a very good sculptor, and so I all the more respect those who are.”

[Rhuryc]

That was strange. Although the intricacies of social graces were lost on Rhuryc he had not expected that sort of reaction. The woman was poised. Not scared, but alert, ready, like he was some kind of threat. Was he? For the longest few moments he said nothing. Instead he observed, he thought, the slow, grinding gears in his head processing what he saw. She was different somehow. A stranger. She lacked in common Talderan features, but that was only the skin of it, this woman did not belong here. Astray, somehow lost, she was foreign to the whole of the crowd, the welcoming, gentle atmosphere of the hall. What a curiosity. Rhruyc felt the need to press her, to figure just what purpose she held. Inwardly he was giddy as a school boy. On the surface, though, he remained calm. Aloof. What boring conversation. He knew polite talk when he heard it and that was his own doing. Sod it. Mayhaps he could salvage the introduction somehow. "I hear that often." Rhuryc bobbed his head. He couldn't count high enough to recall all of the times he had heard someone praise an artisans work in such a fashion. "But it's really just time. And patience." It felt good to be speaking Common again. The fact that she understood him was enough to carry on with the exchange, even if it had no intention of going anywhere. "I imagine the artisan responsible for those did not believe he would make a very good sculpture either." He finished with a smile. Strange, despite the stiff, stone-like posture and warrior decorum the man was warm. He bestowed not a sense of hostility but a gentle, welcoming manner. His eyes were a queer thing. They were hard, trained, determined to be difficult but more than anything they seemed always to observe. Like a craftsmen surveying his next project. Just as she had taken notice of his more obvious qualities Rhuryc made notes of his own, the wild, thin build, the haunched shoulders, she had more in common with an animal then the Vantha. And then that color. Those golden eyes. How strange. "I am Rhuryc, it's nice to see another foreigner around here. At least one that speaks Common so well."

[Larina]

He was staring at her. No doubt the man was assessing her just as she did with him. But none the less it made Larina uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and tried to scoot further against the wall, if just to ease her tension a little. Unused to such scrutiny, she was forced to break her gaze from his and instead looked down at her hands. The pause in their little chat probably lasted no more than a couple of seconds, but still Larina felt the weight of his stare. Instantly, her mind darted off to the fanciful reason why this foreigner was examining her. Ideas ranging from simply wanting some company to wanting her head mounted on the wall flew through the Kelvic’s mind with every idea being more ludicrous than the last. But finally the man spoke and ended her immediate distress. His demeanor seemed calm and a bit rigid, but lacking in the antagonism which she had feared. If Larina were to be honest, he was positively congenial towards her. But this would mean that he didn’t want to use that sword against her, and might actually desire to continue a steady conversation. That, or he was a skilled actor. Oh, he did have the look for it. A thespian group would be lucky to pick up a man with such knightly aura. He would make a very convincing leading man, and his strong voice would definitely carry well for a large audience. Certainly he must have taken lessons from a master to learn to project his voice, which is the very reason it struck her so. Of course, it made perfect sense. The man was an actor. Intriguing, that. And oddly enough, this idea seemed to pacify Larina. The more she pictured him on a stage the less threatening he seemed. There was no reservation in her mind that the foreigner also knew know to wield the blade he carried, but if he were a good actor he would save her impending death for a time when the atmosphere was most dramatic. Which was definitely not in a room full of people who were paying them next to no attention. Larina felt much more at ease and gently uncoiled her body. She smiled back at the man and spoke with more warmth, “I would think the sculptor would have some confidence in his abilities. Why else would he choose a medium which could give him frostbite if he expected a poor result?” She gave him the faintest laugh and went on, “But really, we’re both just guessing now.” Larina sat up and tucked her legs beneath her. She had never spoken with an actor before. Oh, she understood that most entertainers were a rather tricky bunch, and she wasn’t about to be fooled by him. But now Larina just couldn’t help her curiosity. She bowed her head slightly at his introduction and replied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Sir Rhuryc. And yes, it’s also a relief to speak easily again. I’ve only just arrived in the city and the language barrier can be rough. I know a bit of Vani, but it only takes one slip to end up asking about a brothel instead of a bathroom.” Larina grinned and tugged idly at her boot strap, hoping that Rhuryc didn’t find that offensive. She looked back at the man and remembered her own introduction, “My given name is Larina. And I think for now I would like to keep it that way.”

[Rhuryc]

Was that pause really so long? Such social grace. And the girl seemed frightened now? Concerned? What was it? The longer they exchanged glances the less sure Rhuryc was of his own intentions. First she was stiff, then slowly she started to relax, shoulders slacking and her body less poised, no longer tensed for an escape. What a feat. He was unsure as to his affect on the whole ordeal but so long she did not run screaming for help he would be satisfied. Fighting his way out of a mass of Vantha was not on his list of joyous activities. Bugger it all this was difficult. Better if he were an actor or some such, at least then he could fake it. Rhuryc stood. His size was something of note while seated, but when his back was straight the truly massive form of the man was a force for intimidation. Thick chest, broad shoulders, a black smith's torso fit with a warrior's posture. It was a wonder he did not just run around flailing that sword around. A few, long strides brought him closer to the window. An introduction meant they no longer had to speak in raised voices across the way, right? Right. Sure. Rhuryc offered Larina a soft grin and came to her side, albeit he remained far enough to not broach her personal space. From what he knew of people in general they had a rather terrible reaction to his own lack of understanding distances. What was a touch? To him a gesture of good faith perhaps, but this creature? Well. He already thought on her running away. "Just Rhuryc is fine. I'm no Knight." Wasn't he? Every time he thought on the subject the same imagery surfaced in his mind. Tyveth be thrice damned. "Well met, Larina. I must admit my own Vani sounds like a child lost in the market." Rhuryc guffawed. At least he attempted to keep the atmosphere cheerful. To a point. "I, ah. You'll have to forgive me. I guess i was excited at the idea of another foreigner, I don't have much of anything to talk about." How suave! How witty. How dashing. At least he wasn't stammering. Yet. "Your accent is not familiar. Where are you from if you don't mind me asking. I'm struggling enough as it is not to seem like a dunce." A hand rose to the back of his head and rubbed the mass there, the uncomfortable, nervous habit one he did not even seem to be aware of.

[Larina]

Smiling gently, Larina watched her new company step over to where she sat - her fears largely dissipated with the discovery of his profession. The general crowdedness of the room still perturbed her, but as long as she geared her attention to Rhuryc her calm would be undisturbed. His size seemed quite larger not that he was standing upright, and this would give him a fair the advantage were they ever to come to blows. Oh, the Kelvic had a trick or two up her sleeve, but a well-placed strike with the strength his build would command would be formidable. But Larina was assured that he would do no such thing in a room full of people. At least crowds were good for one thing. As he drew near, Larina grabbed her bag from the windowsill and placed it on the ground, making room for the actor in case he wanted a seat next to her. It was a small gesture, but one that went against her most primitive instincts. However, her previous mistress had given her lessons on hospitality and accommodation, which Larina did not so readily forget. Still carrying out her teaching, even after death. Maybe the Kelvic race was loyal to a fault… “Oh, I did not believe you to be a Knight,” she said, shaking off her roaming thoughts. Larina gave him a rather knowing grin. Yes, she was well aware of Rhuryc’s true calling. But realizing that he may be slighted by this remark, she added, “Not that you couldn’t be one! I-I’m sure you would do the role justice.” She nodded her head firmly to assert her confidence in his acting chops. “I’ve never really given it much note before, but I call everyone either ‘sir’ or ‘madam,’ unless directed otherwise. It’s just a byproduct of my…upbringing.” A thin little smirk played on her lips as she watched Rhuryc wander about for topics to talk about. Oh, he was good. Certainly, actors did not always keep performing even when they were off stage, but his nervous little display just to make her feel comfortable was quite endearing. Under this disarming routine, she replied, “Now Si- I mean, just Rhuryc. I’ve met a dunce or two in my time, and I can say that you still have a ways to go if you want the title. Though, a pint or two of ale might help your chances of earning it.” Her eyes flashed merrily up at him, and she fidgeted with her boot strap again. Hopefully he wasn’t too prone to drinking, or he might not find that particularly funny. “As for my accent,” Larina paused to think about her particular cocktail of dialects. “Well, I was raised in Sunberth. And the group of people I ran with was rather small…” She considered the other slaves her in master’s household and their many different breeds of speech. “But eclectic. They came from many different regions, and so my own speech is probably a smattering of several accents. In truth, I doubt I would even be able to tell you how a common Sunberthan sounds.” I didn’t really get out that much, she admitted, turning her face downward and wrinkling her nose at the thought. Glancing back up at the man, Larina went on, “But you! You’re a Syliran, right? I spent a little time there myself, so I am acquainted with your speech. What a huge city it is! It has such a different feel than where we are now.”

[Rhuryc]

Role? What was she talking about? At least the both of them were at odds. In some, small way Rhuryc felt a kinship with folks whom struggled as much as he did to find their social graces. He took the kindness and turned about, his back side setting against the sill, but his torso remained upright, leaning more than sitting. Gloved hands came together and rubbed anxiously against one another, the strange shuffle of leather on leather interrupting the stray, idle noise from the surrounding Vantha. He had to get better at this. Between Nuits and Vantha his awkward gauge was far beyond what most would consider queer, but there was also the edition of pretty women. They vexed him to no end. No matter what he thought of the gender stations of the races, he would never view a woman the same way he did a man. For one, he enjoyed the look of a woman. Even now he struggled with all of his might to keep his gaze proper. How silly. "It's different, sure. The people are always moving, always busy. There's nowhere to stop and rest. At least you feel that way." He shrugged and folded his arms across his chest, gaze flickering from his hands to the expanse beyond the two of them. The hall was still in full swing. Each Vantha seemed to ignore the foreigners, either unaware or just lacking any sort of concern. "But, this may sound strange, this place has its own sort of music. Not literally. Well yes, literally, but everything together. All at once. Even the forges sound, ah. Beyond. If that make sense." Very few people understand just what it was that Rhuryc spoke of. At least in this sort of company. Somehow switching the topic to metal and telling stories of killing bandits did not feel like such a great idea. "Sunberth hm?" It was not so much a question as a recognition. His eyes settled on Larina now, observing, weighing. Sunberth meant many things. Trust was no one of them. "You're lucky to have made it out then. I hear little... positive... musings about that place." There. That was the trick, right, get the other person talking about themselves? Easy.

[Larina]

OOCSuckpost. Here it comes. I tired, Rhu. I really did. Wait. Was he uncomfortable, or was he this still part of his charming routine? No, Rhuryc looked genuinely uneasy. How odd! Larina was not the one with a blade strapped to her hip. But then again, maybe the spikes on her greaves were off-putting. Discreetly, she tucked her hands behind her back, tilting the points towards the stone wall so that she wouldn’t accidentally lean on them. Maybe that would help. Yet, Rhuryc’s current edginess probably didn’t have anything to do with her. After all, he was a lone actor in a foreign city who felt the need to protect himself by investing in both a sword and the training to use it. How did he end up like this? Did your troupe disown you and cast you out onto the streets? Or maybe your understudy grew mad with jealousy and made attempts to take your life? Poor soul! Larina shook her head lightly and gazed at the displaced actor with pity. She wouldn’t be able to ask him about it directly just yet. That would be rude. Tilting her head to the side, Larina listened intently as the man started to talk about the music of the frozen city. Desperately, the Kelvic tried to follow along with his train of thought, but the second his speech began to dip into the abstract and philosophical, Larina couldn’t stay with him. As much as she wanted to engage in theoretical conversation, Larina simply couldn’t maintain a coherent stream of thought long enough to actually offer something up for discussion. Not for lack of trying though. She was far better at conveying her feelings through drawings and could understand visual abstraction much better than audible ones. But in a conversation there was really no place for that. So, to maintain at least some semblance of intelligence, Larina occasionally gave noncommittal nods or mumbles of affirmation during appropriate pauses in Rhuryc’s dialogue. Hopefully, that would suffice for now. Thankfully, his focus shifted back to something more concrete, albeit equally unpleasant for Larina to talk about. Sunberth. She shifted in her seat and her metal greaves harshly scraped the stone windowsill as she thought of ways to divert the topic at hand. None came to mind that weren’t about Rhuryc’s backstabbing thespian group and his daring attempts to escape their stranglehold on him. So instead, she was forced to oblige him, “Yes, that town isn’t the friendliest of places. Even to those born in it.” Hey eyes flickered back over at him, but could not keep their gaze and sank down into her lap. Petch it all! She preferred philosophy to this! “The music you were talking about. Like the harmony of…everyday life?” Larina clamored back to the previous topic and bumbled around in her phrasing, but her ideas were at least there. “You’re right. Every place has a different feel to it. But I haven’t really gotten to see much of Avanthal. And, am I right in thinking that you haven’t either?” She gave him a hopeful grin and went on, “Well, I was thinking that maybe we should. See the city, that is.” Was she really willing to brave the cold again just to get out of talking about her time spent in slavery? Yes. Yes, she was. “Maybe we can get a feel for how people live here. Find the…music of the place. Or at the very least some of its sites. What do you think?”

[Rhuryc]

Hurk. Great. The discomfort was palpable. Sunberth was not a good subject for discussion then. Balls. Twice balls. Neither were ruminations on the aspect of their fare city. What possibly could have happened to this girl to make her react so violently? To some her antics would have proved to be strange, perhaps awkward, but the shrill shriek of those gauntlets against the otherwise pristine sill threw up more alarms than he cared to count. The subtle shifting of her body may as well have been a single flare blown off in his face. Maybe that was why he was so bad at this. He was looking for all the wrong signs. Like most of the other men his age he found it he should probably just stick to stray looks at the woman's bust and sneak in a quick quip or two. If only his wit would accommodate. "I've only just arrived a few days ago." He said, his eyes wondering from the form of his companion to the window. "The most I've seen is a tavern, the back end of a smithy, and the cabins they store foreigners in. Otherwise the cold has a nasty habit of rubbing off my wandering sensibilities." He finished with a grin and offered the woman a brief chuckle. Humor. Good. Great. At her mention of leaving Rhuryc found himself alight with a renewed vigor. Walking gave him something else to focus on. With a shove he pushed himself away from the window and placed his weight onto his feet once more. And dear lord was he tall. A giant among the Vantha, the blacksmith was no doubt a match for more than just a few. "By all means, maybe we can puzzle out some of these buildings. I don't read Vani half as well as I speak it, and I speak it with less comprehension then a halfwit." Charm. Right! Be inviting. After so long Rhruyc felt comfortable enough to slip into a routine that did not make him out to be such a lout. He extended a single arm and bent his back just slightly enough to not seem facetious. He lowered his head and flicked his gaze up at the woman, all the while ignoring the estranged stares from the local gatherings. Short snow people be damned, they could gawk all they wished. "After you, Lady Larina."