(Guest Modding) A Taste of Her Own Medicine (Irriari)

by **Vala** on June 24th, 2011, 5:33 am

Approval :

22nd of Summer, 511 AV

Another swig of ale to dull the pain. It wasn't enough. It never was. A mumbling to his left. "Are you sure about this Acael?" A stupid question. Of course he was sure of it. If he wasn't why would he do it? Because he was desperate - that's why. He didn't want to do this. And Tug was right to doubt him. It was a stupid idea. But was this was the only way. It wasn't. But it was the fastest. And if Acael wanted to keep his face the way it was he needed to get that money fast.

Another mumble to his right. "So when are we going to do it Acael?" Droog asked quietly, almost whispering. Acael looked green, his handsome countenance taking an eerie glow in the dim torch light.

Droog flinched when Acael raised his mug. He wansn't wasted, but he was plenty drunk. "When I petch well feel like it!" He roared and stumbled, losing a bit of balance. "I'm sorry…" He apologized barely a second later, his voice low and remorseful. "Come on guys… let's get going. It should be soon now." Acael tossed a few coins, some of his last, onto the table to pay for his last drinking binge before the kidnapping. The three surly men left, each of them wobbling but their minds painfully sober with thoughts of what they were about to do.

It didn’t take them long to make their way to Tarsin’s Boarding House from the Silver Sliver Tavern, each plodding step taking a momentous amount of will power. “Stop.” Acael raised his hand. “We can wait here in the shadows.” He drew his two mammoth conspirators into a dank alleyway. It was narrow and they all felt cramped so close to one another, but at least they were friends and drunk enough not to care. From his position Acael could easily see the entrance to the Boarding House. Acael shuffled his feet for a chime, going over the plan again, until he saw something that could make things easier – it was a risk, but not enough to endanger anything. “Actually, Tug, go over and hide in that alleyway on the other side of the entrance. Over there, can you see it? You’ll still be able to see me from over there. When I give the signal you know what to do. Ok? Don’t even look at the entrance or for the girl. You keep on your eyes on me. Remember we are not to strike until we get her right where we want her. She usually comes out once the sun goes down. I planned it so we came a little early, we might have to wait longer but it’s so that we don’t miss her leaving. Nothing is done until I say so. Ok? Good. Go.” Tug nodded and did as he was told.

As Tugban lumbered to the alley, his form was momentarily framed by an aura of fiery light, by the setting sun. He was easily six foot four with a barrel chest that was easily more fat than muscle. Droogban, his twin brother, was almost an exact replica. To most it was unnerving to see the matching giants next to each other. Few could tell them apart. For the most part only Acael could. He had even convinced them to dress alike to add to the effect. Acael was always one for the theatrics.

Acael never looked like one that belonged in the slums. Next to his lumpy mates he was the very image of a heavenly being, except for the scar that marred his cheek. It ran from his right cheek bone all the way down to his chin, but even that couldn’t stave away his roguish good looks; it only served to give him a rougher, more impish countenance.

His hands were shaking. He shoved them deep into his pockets. “You nervous?” Acael asked Droog. The other man nodded, too afraid to whisper. Acael nodded back and zipped his own lips. He rested his head against the cool stone of the building behind him, so he could perfectly angle his warm brown eyes as he stared intently at the Boarding House’s door. His head filled with the tribal pounding of his blood in his ears.

Acael :

by **Irriari** on June 25th, 2011, 4:05 am

Irriari stretched her arms outward to the thin walls of the boarding house. On the contrary, her wings stayed firmly shut which was the case more often than she liked to admit. Often, she wished that she would have forked over the coin for a bigger room overlooking the canal, but she knew that without a source of coin, such amenities were only dreams. She bent down carefully and slowly opened the leather pack that held her poisoncrafting ingredients, brews and vials. She extracted a small vial of a poison she had brewed a month ago. The effects, while not deadly, would surely cause a headache to any who she clawed. The victim of the poison would be dizzy for an bell, the product of one type of poisonous fungus. For four bells after that, they would lose some of their agility. The poison had a quick onset, though it had to be injected orally or transfused into ones body by a wound.

Irriari carefully uncorked the vial and dipped every other nail on her hands into the mixture after she tilted the vial to insure that each claw would be coated equally. She had learned after awhile, that without tilting the vial, some nails would only be half coated. Irriari wasn't totally pleased with her results, but when she planned to go into the main city, she always dipped a few of her claws in poison as a safeguard. Her supplies had thinned out over a month, so now she was being proactive about preserving her meager stock.

After the poison dried, Irriari glanced over to the chair that held her zith made bow and quiver. Her pouch of mizas was attached, but she couldn't draw an arrow to her bow until she left the boarding house. It was a rule that annoyed her, but she could see how the patrons would be skittish. Tarsin's lecture on the subject was entirely effective. She looked around the room and accounted for her short list of belongings before stepping outside the door and closing it. The lock clicked into place as her hand left the door handle, and as it did she pivoted on her heel and approached one of the two exits to the boarding house. The sun was nearly gone out of the sky and her eyes thanked her for it. While daytime excursions were fun, they tended to be more painful than anything.

After descending a flight of stairs, Irriari stepped into the open stench and din that was unique to Ravok. The zith stepped forward, while drawing grabbing an arrow from her quiver. It was about time to pay the proprietor of Black Tar's Alchemical Services a second visit, for even more poison crafting plants and herbs/

by **Vala** on June 27th, 2011, 2:03 am

Guest Modder

Tugban grunted; the monster had a notched arrow. Suddenly, standing alone in an alleyway was scary for a 6 foot giant. His cloudy gray eyes snapped back to Acael and his brother Droog, regretting not listening to Acael when he said to not look at the girl. Thankfully Acael hadn't noticed. Tug released a breath of relief. A few seconds later he snapped back to attention when he saw a pale hand moving . A cloaked couple walked by, blocking his view. The only thing Tug could see was the meaty hand giving the signal. Meaty? That couldn't have been Acael. The couple passed; Tug could see again. It was his brother's hand, but it was down now. Tug just caught Acael's scowl as he and his brother slipped out of their alleyway. Tug slipped out himself, slinking along with his hood up just as Acael had instructed him to do when they had practiced.

Just a little hiccup in the plan. They would continue. Acael's right eye twitched violently. And not even the pockets of his pants could hide the shaking of his hands. Droog made sure to walk close to his friend, just in case.

Everything was happening so fast. Acael didn't feel ready. Droog and Tug continued to keep their eye on the girl and the surroundings. Droog wasn't sure if Acael could follow through, and without him, he wasn't sure either. It was Tug who saved the day.

Half way to the Black Tar's Alchemical Services, a handful of people congested the only narrow bridge Irriari needed to cross. Everyone in the trio had a needle. It had been expensive as hell, and it had been taken as more of a loan, but Acael was grateful he had arranged it.

Using their twin mentality, not a word was spoken between Droog and Tug. Acael was shaking too badly; he was more likely to stab himself unconscious. Droog growled angrily, as he turned on Acael. He picked up his lithe friend and began to shake him. Even before everyone's attention had been diverted, Tug had already made his way past Droog and Acael, all the way to Irriari. As soon as Acael began to squeal in fright, Tug made his move. For a large guy he moved pretty fast. His right hand was curled tight around the plunger, as soon as his shadow loomed over Irriari's winged form, he jammed it right into her arm, pushing in as much liquid as he could before she collapsed. He had no idea what was in it, or if it was too little, or too much; he had faith in Acael. Droog wasn't so sure.

Important Info :

by **Irriari** on June 27th, 2011, 7:24 am

As Irriari walked she kept most of her attention focused on the group of people directly around her. While none of the women and children seemed particularly dangerous, they could provide information if nothing else. Few of the humans in Ravok were much more than a nuisance, but she did admit to herself that some had been nice and helpful. But such admissions were rare. A fellow zith in the colony had been openly flogged, and his wings were tied for days on end in the deepest parts of the caves for declaring a friendship with a drykas. The Elders had beaten him repeatedly, and after a week, the slime mold from the damp recesses had eaten away a portion of his wings and his pride. Irriari shivered, her own wings rustling as she imagined the pain of the mold, spreading like a slow acid across her precious wings. No, this was why humans were to be kept at a distance, after all, there were far worse things that could happen here, and few would be as merciful as the Elders had been. Irriari refocused her vision on the bridge as her clawed right hand loosely gripped and shifted on the bow.

It never occurred to her to watch her back. She realized how much of a fool and amateur she had been the second another shadow blended with and overtook her own. No one would be that bold to one of her race unless they sought to harm her. It would only take a second to pivot, but as she turned on her right heel, with her bow following suit, she felt the needle jab into the soft flesh of her upper arm. Did it hit muscle? Dread filled her as she realized that the poison was unlike any of her own. Its effects were instantaneous and shocking. Her blood stopped moving as her muscles turned to ice faster than she thought possible. She stumbled forward, hoping that she could see a glimpse of the person who had dared to poison her. Whoever they were, they would pay. She had little to go on, as she had hit the street too quickly to see her attacker. They were tall. But when you were shorter than most of the adolescent children of the humans around you, many people seemed tall. This one would die, if she could live long enough to save her pride. Truly, her worst fear had come true. Irriaris bravado withered as she felt the silken poison course through each muscle with merciless efficiency.

by **Vala** on July 4th, 2011, 11:10 pm

Guest Mod Post

Guest Mod Note :

Tugban easily caught the petite girl in his massive arms before she fell to the ground. He made sure to avoid contact with her wicked sharp claws. His left foot shot out to gently stifle the fall of the bow. Using his right hand he unlatched his cloak. The heavy, worn wool was wrapped firmly around Irriari. For such large fingers, Tug was quite deft his in swaddling of the Zith. He made sure to fold her wings so they wouldn’t get mangled as he encased her in the rough cloth. Once he could afford to have one free hand, he picked up Irriari’s bow and put it over his shoulder. Waste not, want not

They were trying to kidnap the monster, not kill it. Tug left Irriari’s face uncovered, to allow her air. He wasn’t sure if one could breathe through his cloak, but he wasn’t willing to risk it, nor did he think it mattered if it saw where they were going. It would all be over in a bell

Most things that came in needles were expensive; paralytics were no exception; fast acting paralytics were the epitome. Now fast acting paralytics that also brought unconsciousness, well that would have cost Acael. The particular poison Acael had leased was also specialized for humans. So while Irrari was no doubt paralyzed from head to toe now, there was no knowing how long she would stay so. Even now, the flickering of her lids indicated the unraveling of Acael’s carefully laid plans.

Acael’s neck hurt; Droog was a very convincing thug. A crowd had begun to form. Tug was already beginning to slink away. “STOP! Stop you brute! I swear I’ll get you your money! I’ll get it to you right now! Please, just stop!” Acael ‘begged’ pitifully. Droog grunted, and dropped his master, giving an inconspicuous shrug when Acael shot his friend an accusing look; now his butt hurt.

Droog shifted his stance, trying to block him and Acael away from the public eye. It worked fairly well. The bridge had congested so much that people were starting to shove. And since Droog was obviously not going to beat the petch out of Acael, most people were quickly starting to lose interest. Only a few, more observant citizens harbored some suspicions; they had practiced well. Droog even grabbed the scruff of Acael’s collar, pretending to drag him along. Acael shook off the heavy hand, dusting off his shirt and pants as soon as they had walked into a dead end alley.

Tug was waiting, tapping his foot impatiently. He had Irriari cradled close to his chest. The gondolier stood leaning against his long steering pole. He wore a navy blue beaked mask. Dull green crystals lined the two holes where his eyes should have been, there was only blackness. “Hello Acael… and company.” The man hissed. They couldn’t see it, but it was obvious he was smiling. Tug shivered, waiting for Acael to get on first.

Acael handed the gondolier the clay pass given to him by the Ebonstryfe representative. He took a seat in the back. Droog took the next seat. Tug climbed on last, still holding Irrari ever closer. “I’m going to need you boys to wear these.” The gondolier held out four small burlap sacks. “The last one is for your cargo.”

Tug growled deep, the rumbling coming from deep in his chest. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It is now.” The gondolier retorted with a snigger. “If you don’t want to put them on, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask that you step off. Now.” The gondolier’s tone took a sudden dip until it was threatening enough to raise the hairs on the back of each of the men’s necks. Tug grumbled, but obediently did as he was told. Acael just bit his lip in silence.

It was hard to breathe, the air inside quickly grew stale. And if one bothered to analyze the odor wafting off the sandpaper like cloth, dried blood and saliva would be the easiest to identify.

The gondola took many turns. The pace was fast as the water violently lapped against the sides of the boat. It was getting very dark. The gondolier began to hum, deep enough to entrance the senses so that most of the background noise was drowned out. Stop. It was a sudden and jolting stop. “Take of your masks now. And get out. Out.” The gondolier hissed. Once the men were off he paddled off into the shadows.

Droog eyes swept the area. “…where the hell are we? Acael?” Acael just bit his lip. They walked into the building before them; they were stranded. They had been dropped off at a singular platform; the only way there and back was via a gondola, which had just abandoned them. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Acael walked in with a pocket knife in hand, reluctantly taking point. Tug came in last with the zith. “Put her in that room over there.” The woman said, her voice soft and clear, like ice. The last glimpse that Irriari caught before she was dropped off and locked was of the petite woman, no taller than herself. She wore a simple black eye mask that emphasized the bright emerald fires that darted to each of the men’s faces, barely sparing a glance at Irriari.

Tug gently dropped off his swaddled cargo right in the middle of the dim room. He couldn’t see anything since there was no light source, but the dirty barred window, about the size of a head did let in some torch light flickering outside. He stumbled on a bucket on his way out. In the far corner he was sure there was a pile of rags, but he wasn’t sure if something had just moved in there, so he didn’t inspect it further. He didn’t take back his cloak. The door locked with a heavy thud.

Guest Mod Note :

by **Irriari** on July 8th, 2011, 6:46 am

Voices and the rustling of people moving filled Irriaris ears for an instant, and then were snatched away. The poison was certainly potent, and while she was afforded small glances at the world around her as her eyelids flickered and twitched, none of it was of any use. Many humans were always worried about the location that their kidnappers were taking them. Such knowledge was useless. Unless they dropped her into a pit of ravenous vipers, Irriari simply wanted to know who had captured her. She wanted to know the reason as well, but such musings were better put out of her head. It was all so foggy anyways. Thinking the simplest of thoughts took a herculean effort. To top it all off, her eyes and limbs still refused to do her will, or do anything all.

Irriari hoped that her exposure to poisons would afford her a better immunity than most, but the somber truth had already seeped into her consciousness. She could easily die here, poisoned, at the mercy of her kidnappers. A knife to her chest or arteries could be her undoing, and no amount of will power could help her escape. Many in the colony had asked her why she feared poisons more than blades or glassbeaks. Now, in a situation like this, her deepest fears were cemented. Poison could leave you weaker than a severed arm or a broken wrist could. Poison could turn a normally sane man into a hallucinating lunatic and nothing aside from an antidote or death could stop the horrors he would face or the crimes he could commit.

After a few chimes, Irriari felt her legs placed against something hard. She assumed they were moving her, though she had no way to know what the cold pins and needles feeling really was. A chime later, a rough bag was placed over her head, obstructing her eyes from seeing and her lungs from breathing the amount of air she needed. Irriaris eyes continued twitching, but the textured burlap sack offered her no clues to anything she sought.

After an unknown amount of time, she was grabbed and hauled upward. The bag was hastily thrown off her face and for the first time, Irriari saw the gondola she had been riding in. It was hardly surprising that they had transported her via one of the slender Ravosalas, but it still made her uneasy. What did they want? Who were they? Her brain continued turning the questions around but the questions were met with maddening silence.

The man carrying her followed a few others, but before she could make any sense of who they were, she was taken into a room and placed onto the floor unceremoniously. Feeling was returning to her chest and stomach, though she knew it would still take at an eighth of a bell for sensation to return to her extremities. The wall in front of her was unadorned, and the thick stone has been ground to a semi smooth surface, devoid of handholds. The door through which she had entered was made of wood- and it seemed to be very thick, with no lock or handle apparent to her. The location seemed to be a holding room or a dungeon of some sort. Either way, the design of the room was simple and the adequate lighting on the walls ensured that it would be near impossible to hide in the shadows or corners of the room.
Irriari scanned the area around the door and the distance above it that she could see. While the ceiling was not massively far above her, Irriari knew that she could fly in the space, if and when the poison exited her system. Her fingers had slowly started to twitch, rhythmically as her eyes had before. It was a good sign, but Irriari feared that she wouldn’t regain all of her abilities quickly enough.

After a few more chimes, Irriari had managed to crawl her way to the side of the door. Her progress had been slow, and painful. With no way to move most of her lower body, her legs and stomach had scraped against the hard stone floor and she was sure that she was bleeding from a few small lacerations. Standing up, against the edge of the door would be her first option, if she could. Her best option, however, would be to fly directly above the door. Tactically, any weapons her kidnappers had, if they were short, wouldn’t be able to reach her. Few humans looked directly up when they entered a room, which she could use to her advantage. But how many hits could she get on the men before the size and sheer number of them would overwhelm her?
Irriaris weakened body continued to twitch as she pulled her upper body against the stone walls. The sitting position was awkward. Her time was ticking down if she wanted to fight her captors. She could only hope that she would be in a position to fight when they returned. If she was, she swore to herself, and the Elders of her colony that she would gut them all.

OOCForgive the bad formatting. Peru issues.

by **Vala** on July 27th, 2011, 3:17 pm

Guest Mod

A chair crashed against the wall. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE HAVE TO KEEP HER HERE!” Aceal raged, face flushed in anger. Droog set a hand on his friend’s shoulder, ready to hold him back. Aceal raised a clenched fist, angled towards the woman’s face.

She just smiled, her verdant green eyes sparkling with mirth. She waited for Acael to lower his fist. She did not raise her voice. “Due to an unforeseen incident, all our available slave pens are now occupied. There is now a waiting list for slavers. We have prioritized our regular slavers and their wares. We understand your difficulty as a first time slaver, especially with such exotic bounty. You and your partners will be compensated for the inconvenience. In our original arrangement, you were to paralyze the zith with our furnished poisons, then have her ferried straight to our pens. The new plan: you will use our extra ‘retreat’ to house her until an opening provides itself. Is this all clear?”

Acael looked to his friends; Tug averted his eyes. Acael looked back at the woman, his once flush face, draining of all color until he was pallid; his fingers were cold as ice. He cleared his throat, but it wasn’t enough to stop the shaking. “How long will we have to wait here?”

“You are 6th on the list. Hopefully provisions can be finalized within four days.” She was being very gracious; she did not want to deal with another rage – her patience only went so far. If Acael disrespected her again, she might have to show him why she was one of the few that didn’t need a personal guard.

Acael nodded numbly, still trying to understand what she had said. It was Tug who spoke up next. “What will we do here for four days? What will we eat? What will we do? There is only one way out.” The last bit was a statement, but the question was still palpable.

The lady was starting to get bored. “There is bread and cheese in the pantry behind me. Fresh food will be brought every day, maybe even beer if my superiors are feeling generous. And for things to do, you can experiment for all I care.” She smirked wickedly. “But if you can read there are some books in that shelf over there. Nothing special, but at least it’s something. If you’re feeling lucky, I think there are cards lying around as well. I’m sure you boys will find something.” Her lips hardened until they were thin slits. “If any of you need to leave for any reason, light a torch and set it in the iron holder to the right of the platform. If it is an emergency, set it to the left. Remember that. Do not mix them up. And once you set a torch the gondolier should be over to pick you up, in no longer than fifteen chimes. Only one of you can leave at a time; we cannot have the precious ware escaping, now can we?” She looked to the door.

“…where are we?” Acael whispered tentatively.

At this the lady promptly walked out, slamming the door behind her. The three men were left alone in the dim, candlelit room. Irriari all but forgotten.

OOC Note :

by **Irriari** on July 31st, 2011, 1:31 am

Irriari continued to sit against the wall as her body regained motion and its facilities slowly. She had to do something. People outside spoke and she pressed her ear half to the wall, and got as close to the door as she would allow herself to. If the door was suddenly thrust open, it could hit her in the face, and she doubted her body would be able to recover in time for her to retaliate. How many times had she dreamed about situations like these and how she would act? Irriari knew that her chances would be limited, and if the men were too careful, she could end up with none at all. She grimaced at the thought of having to escape the slave pins under the watch of the Ebonstryfe. That was even less likely.

With her ear pressed to the wall she strained again to listen as the group began speakingonce more. The first statement she caught could have been heard by all Ravok. Some man, probably her captor, was angry and yelling at the fact that she had to be kept here. She wanted to echo his distaste for her lodgings aloud, but did so in her head as the conversation outside the door rolled on.

The woman's voice was harder to understand. Irriari caught a snippet here and there, but the calm tone was difficult to hear through the tiny hole where the door didn't quite meet the floor. As her pounding heart stilled, and Irriari breathed more slowly, she could hear more. Finally, the words that she sought! She would be here for 4 days, maybe. Irriari gave herself less than three to get out. Security would heighten in the last few days, if her guesses were at all right. Now, they thought she was incapacitated by the poison and she agreed with them, but the effects were starting to fade slowly. After getting the information she sought, Irriari moved her ear away from the door and wall and allowed herself a moment to think and gaze about the room. To her left, half way across the room was a simple wooden bucket less than 2 feet high and a foot wide. How polite of them, to leave somewhere for her to go to the bathroom. Directly ahead, a few balled up rags had been pushed against the far wall. Next to them, a small old rusty nail was covered in shadow. She didn't think her attackers had meant for her to have a nail, but she doubted their night vision was anywhere near as good as her own.

Quickly and quietly, she stood up, clenching her teeth against the aching muscles and the rush of vertigo that swamped her as she did. Her left hand reached out and touched the wall, and the addition of something tangible calmed her mind for the second she needed and she stepped forward, aiming to grab the bucket first. Irriaris feet hit the stone floor quietly, though she knew that some amount of noise was inevitable. When her brisk walking carried her to the bucket, she scooped it up from the floor, taking care to pull it straight up to minimize the odds it would scrape on the floor. It still made noise, but she hoped that the humans were still in their conversation, or not coming in here at the moment. The rags and nail were next on her list and she pivoted on her heel and picked them up and gently placed them in the bucket. It would be easy to drop them, as her hands weren't back to normal quite yet.

Finally, Irriari made her way to where she had been sitting before and placed the bucket in the shadows next to her. Her head was hunched over and her eyes were glazed with the look of one who could see, but had no want to. Most of her poison victims had some sort of odd look, though she hoped that if her captors entered the room, they would not be able to see that she was acting. Slowly, she plotted, listened, and hoped that the poison would leave her soon.

OOCVala, How tall is this room? Can Irr fly, even if it's cramped?

by **Verilian** on July 3rd, 2013, 10:18 pm

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Thread Award

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Irriari

+1 Detection
+1 Observation
+1 Tactics

You Question My Logic? :

Lores: Ambushed and Poisoned,

Notes: Well, this thread had potential. Too bad Vala isn't around to continue it now that you are back. Oh well, good job, and keep writing!

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