[Flashback] A strange encounter (Bob Barton, Closed)

[Llano Chyme]

10th of Spring, 511 AV. Dawn Chyme yawned as the sun began to hit her eyes. Day already? She sat up with a wince, fondling the all to-familiar trio of scars. Rubbing her sides she unwrapped the leather from modest torso and removed the loin cloth, it was so uncomfortable wearing these petching things. Where was her brother? She hadn't seen him in days, and it wasn't like him to just leave her. Annoyed, she unfolded her wings and embraced the daylight. The dew on her fur glistened as the suns warmth flooded her. Untainted, fresh, new. The brisk spring air cleansed her mind, filled her lungs with its purity. She was a creature of the night, but yearned for the day. Fog still hung, but was quickly dissipating. A rumbling interrupted her tranquility. She was hungry, bad. It had been at least 2 days since her last meal. The thought of hunting didn't appeal to her. The day was still unmolested, too early for many travelers or bandits to be awake. Perhaps she could steal a meal. She grimaced to herself, the thought of scavenging was even less attractive. She depended so much in Tempest. Sighing, Chyme positioned her feet and pushed off the ground. Careful to dodge branches on her way to the sky. Breaking out of the trees she surveyed the heavens. It looked to be a cloudless day. A good day for a hunt. She flew toward the path travelers usually walk. It was relatively hidden from sight, a small bit of branches over hanging. Thankfully the leaves hadn't came in completely and she could see moderately through the trees. But that also meant any travelers or animals looking skyward could see her.

[Bob Barton]

Bob was walking down the path, whistling a strange tune which only vulgar sailors would know about since he learned it from one of them. The song was actually based on an Akalak story about a sailor who got so drunk that he ended up making a promise to sail to the ends of the sea to retrieve some ancient artifact for a woman and when he got back, he was so hungover he forgot having ever made the promise or that he even had the artifact. If anyone was nearby, they could hear Bob saying some of the words like "And the Helioc sailor fell for the Jakri but never even got a Shyke!" in between the tune.

Bob was travelling light as he could for a one man party. He knew as long as he followed the path he would be safe from the dangers of the Wildlands. That and it was a good place to meet fellow travelers. Travelers who did not mind sharing some extra food and water in return for a good story or two. Bob was so contented that he did not even pay any heed to the shadows flying through the trees thinking it was just another bird. If something did dare to attack him he always had his trusty cane anyway so for him there was nothing to worry about.

OOCJust saw the swear wiki page today so I thought why not try putting it into a story? Hope I used it right.

[Llano Chyme]

She had almost given up searching for prey when the man became close enough to Chyme for her hear him. The daylight had wounded her nightvision, but her hearing was as sharp as ever. Even with her little knowledge of common tongue she could tell was he was saying was foul. This man was singing things she'd never even of heard before. Swooping in closer to get a better view she saw he was a human, older by the looks of things. And alone. She fought against killing him right then. The old ones were usually with less sight. It had been so long since she's had the company of a human, and a strange one at that. Adjusting her small pack she flew into the trees again. Landing only a short distance away from the man she folded her wings around her. Humans could be offended by Zith "nakedness". She tossed her hair back and started after him, all the while hoping her common tongue wasn't as rusty as she feared. What was he up to? Roaming around with such vulgar speech. Her stomach roared with food so close. She clutched it and winced.

[Bob Barton]

Bob was still whistling the strange melody and reached the last few lines of it beginning with "They wanted to call him Venhrehk and Cerulest but all they could say was Petch!" when he was abruptly stopped noticing a strange figure blocking his path. The whistling got softer and softer as he realized with all those words he just said out loud, the wrong person might just try and kill him because of a misunderstanding. What a way for Bob to go if that really happened...

Mind still racing to compose his thoughts, Bob still did not realize that the person before him was a Zith, thinking that the wings were some sort of strange tribal clothes. He stopped near enough to have a conversation hoping it would be more polite than what he had been saying earlier but far enough to run or get to his weapon first. With the weight of the pack on his back and the early start, Bob stood his cane right in front of him where this new person could see while using it to support him. That should stop any funny ideas if they had any.

Then Bob took a little bow before starting to speak "My apologies for defiling this beautiful morning with that little song...I blame the sailors who told me the story. Really!"

[Llano Chyme]

Chyme giggled, a high pitched noise ending in a low rumble. The human was obviously flustered, she could almost smell the embarrassment. She noted the cane, he must be much older than she originally thought. And barely gray! Shifting when a bit as he bowed, she giggled again at his apology. This one was interesting. She smiled, forgetting her black stained fangs, "I take no offense. Your sung vas... informative." She eyed him up. If she couldn't get a meal from him, it didn't seem very hard to make a meal out of him. For Leths' sake what was she doing. If her brother saw her, scrounging. She sighed inwardly, hoping she wouldn't have to kill him. The older humans always had a weird taste. "Pleez, tell me ov this sailor. You travel much?", her dark eyes searched his. For once she didn't have to crane her neck to look at someone.

[Bob Barton]

The high pitched noise got to Bob forcing him to dig his ears a little as he thought to himself "Darned tribals and their weird qualities." He was still a little bit too far away to notice the black fangs but his eyes twinkled when the woman expressed interest in the stories. Anyone who loves a good story can't be that bad. The bad people only like to listen to things about themselves, normally more fabricated than truth.

"Ahhhh yes the Sailor. A pitiful Akalak seaman who acted on his horrible desires, at least according to their standards. Desires which eventually ruined the very goal he wanted to achieve so he probably wasted all his time which would be better used to pillage and plunder the Suvan Seas." Bob looked down at the path he was on, then behind before looking straight forward the path again the woman was on to try and figure out if it was not obvious that he was already travelling. Clearing his throat he answered "Yes I do travel quite a bit, I am on my way to Sunberth now actually. How about you then?"

[Llano Chyme]

Akalak? Suvan Seas? Her mind raced at the strangeness of his story. Her stomach growled. It would be a waste to consume this man. He must have seen many things. Perhaps he has more stories of this type with strange lands and creatures. If she could befriend him he may even teach her. But hunger was gnawing, gnawing... It would only be so long until she could no longer ignore it. "I do not travel.", she said simply. She could feel herself getting restless. She knew little of Sunberth. What she did know was certainly bad. Maybe this man was not what he seemed. Travelers on their way to that city were usually bands of criminals. What would he have to do with that place? "Sunberth? I have heard. Not exactly friendly people live there?"

[Bob Barton]

The more Bob spoke to the woman the more strange she seemed but he could not put his finger on what. So he continued talking to try and learn more "If you do not travel then why are you out here in the Wildlands? Surely its not a safe place for a lone woman." And it seemed that she also heard about Sunberth. From what she said maybe they heard about the same thing or Sunberth is just really that bad to only have people talk about it that way. Bob was beginning to change his mind on travel plans. Maybe he should go back to Zeltiva instead? Its only a right turn down the path. "Friendly? I wouldn't really know. Everyone is friendly in their own way. What have you heard about it?" Bob dropped his backpack on the ground since these conversations have a way of dragging themselves out. He tried to massage his shoulders squeezing it as hard as his hands could as he waited. Oh how much he hated carrying heavy packs.

[Llano Chyme]

She pursed her lips. Did this human not know what she was? They really were strange creatures, humans. Chyme began to explain to him that she lived here, and was certainly not alone, but he interrupted her. "Friendly? I wouldn't really know. Everyone is friendly in their own way. What have you heard about it?", then he dropped his pack. Black eyes stared hungrily, he had food. It was in there. And he was letting his guard down, warming up to her. Licking her lips she inched closer to the backpack. "I have heard many things. Some worse than ovvers. Most people who travel to there have a bad look about them, and will admit to doing bad things." Chyme shifted her wings, giving her arms room to move. She would not kill this man, no. But she would steal from him. "I have not told you my name," said as her stomach roared,"I call myself Llano Chyme. You may only call me Chyme." It felt good to have a conversation with a human again. They truly were interesting companions. You could meet thirty of them and not hear the same thing twice. 'Not to say they couldn't be dull', she mused to herself, 'not only in speech but in their heads also, like this one.' The Zith licked her grey lips once more as she smiled.

[Bob Barton]

Wow, only the last name. Either she doesn't trust Bob or she is some sort of high ranking person of her tribe seeing her clothes and so she demanded respect. Oh well...introductions are the first steps. "Well, my name is Bob Barton. But people normally call me Bob if not cheat, prankster, coward or whatever else they might come up with." Bob didn't mean for the last few words, but they popped up when he listened to Chyme describe some of the Sunberth people and was thinking of how someone like him would fit in with them.

The conversation distracted Bob quite a bit and only when he was done talking he noticed that the woman started coming closer and closer. "So after introductions is a handshake? Normal enough." Bob thought to himself seeing the arm moving a little behind the wings he thought were clothes. Smiling, he looked back at the woman only to see her smacking her lips and hear her stomach growling. So she was hungry and alone in the woods. Bob sighed looking over her again.

Then he noticed the weird outlines of wings because she was getting pretty close. Those are definitely not clothes. And they were rather stiff earlier and suddenly they are moving on their own accord. As though giving way to her arm the way she wanted it to. "Something is wrong here..." Bob thought to himself and with one hand already on the cane hilt to support him earlier, he held on to the body with the other hand. Bob assumed his stance, keeping his full body weight on the cane and using it to push his feet back on the ground hard enough so he may kick off and dash if he needed to defend himself. He normally used this stance to keep people off guard and make people think he is weaker than he was. But its the Wildlands after all so no time to be subtle. To a trained eye, they might be able to tell that his body has tensed up as opposed to the relaxed way it should have been.