Diagnosis (Open)

[Dhalvasha]

1 Summer, 511 AV

Humanity suffered from a highly communicable social disease. For the dominant race in Mizahar, their very prescence was a poison to the other cultures and races scattering the post Valterrian geography. Humanity brought their culture and while not overtly pushing, marinated everyone in their idealism and philosophy. As it stood, humanity may have been able to overcome a war with any one or two races of the land, but instead the race played with its conquest, like a cat with a mouse.

Interesting, if not a little disturbing.

Dhalvasha tried to banish the thoughts from his mind. Humanity was a troublesome species, but few could refute their accomplishments. After the Valterrian, it was the humans that rebuilt the most, establishing trade across Mizahar. The Symnestra retreated to their caves, living in the shadow of extinction and forced to live as kidnappers just to manage procreation.

In a strange duality, procreation and termination were accomplished in the same act...although unlike their eight legged cousins, Symnestra rarely gave birth to more than one child.

A curse or biological fluke, either way every child born passable for full Symnestra was responsible for matricide before it even had the ability to reason.

Did that make his species abominable?

In some ways, yes...the inherent biological need of his race to consume their mother made it difficult to maintain a population. Should the child die in the midst of birthing, both mother and infant stood to perish...depleting the inherent value of the Symnestra race.

They were a mutation unto themselves, and it was disconcerting to see so many humans after the relative emptiness of Kalinor. Bathed in a corona of dust, the gateway dust kicked up by travelers, Dhalvasha squinted his eyes under the bright light...still unsure where to go.

Unlike Endrykas or Riverfall, rules and statutes were more heavily maintained, the population regimented in their unsightly mobs down established streets. He wasn't used to so many people, but rather than reconsider his path he stepped forward into the crowd of people. A medical scientist, especially a Symenstra, must not allow occupational hazards to detain hi progress...otherwise what was he but a fair weathered practitioner?

Swallowed in a sea of bodies, Dhalvasha pushed into Syliras, his red eyes darting to each uncomfortable face in the crowd as people streamed around him...frightened, perhaps, more by the story of his kind than any practical knowledge.

A rough handed push, as though the entirety of the human collective had attacked him, sent the Symnestra sprawling to the cobblestone road, kicked and jostled roughly by those passing by him. The culprit, if there was one, was immune from castigation in the safety of the crowd. Dhalvasha curled in to himself, trying to keep his more fragile appendages from the rough treading feet of the living river around him. As much as a being of stronger constitution might have seen this as an inconvenience, albeit a painful one, Dhalvasha was in very real danger of being crushed by a mixture of uncaring superstition and malicious intent.

Closing his eyes, the Symnestra offered a rare prayer to Varitas, hoping that, if anything, he be roughly pushed outside the path of this stampede that he might recover.

But he was no worshiper, and his racial god likely turned its face away.

Just as well, the world would be changed by mortal hands...as immortal ones had already plunged creation into disaster. He could only hope that he lived long enough to add his abilities to the possibility of mortal transcendence.

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn was wandering the streets of Syliras wondering what to do, quite bored. When he caught site of a tall willowy man, get pushed aside. He expected everyone to step around the man leaving him to get up, but what he saw horrified him. The man was being trampled on and kicked, no one even giving a second glance to the pale humanoid. That angered Kayn, but pushing down his anger he started forward to help the man up. "What the hell are you doing, its just some weakling being crushed by the world, leave him to his fate." What if others had said that when we where in such positions? We would be dead, so do not talk to me unless you have some actual sensible thoughts. Nil was taken aback by his brothers anger. "No need to get snappy." Kayn grunted. He pushed and shoved people out of the way, and they moved he parted the crowd like water, for few wanted to mess with a large Akalak that held a bow in his hand. Once he got to the man, he stepped up and stood above him glaring at the people around him. "Step. Around." His voice was deadly cold, and held a great deal of menace, everyone got the message. Step around...or I will gut you. The people glanced at the two of them, glaring at tall pale man, and casting fearful glances at the akalak, as they hurried past. Turning around Kayn reached down a warm and kind smile on his face, he reached out his hand to help the man up. "Need some help there, mate?"

[Dhalvasha]

He was answered, in effect, but not by someone he considered sent by the Ancestral god of his people. No, fate and kindly nature had played their hand. Momentarily freed from the threat of trampling, Dhalvasha hesitantly raised his eyes. Spiders scurried their frenzied lives in paranoia of a descending foot or hand. Less than an hour after his entrance to Syliras and he'd experienced their terror.

The man above him towered, an intimidating specimen despite his smile. Smile, yes, social etiquette required a return favor. The Symnestra smiled, an uneasy expression on his normally somber face and it felt misplaced, as though he'd accidentally put on someone else's shirt. It died quickly. Taking his hand, Dhalvasha rose from the cobblestone and swayed. Balance was offset by terror, still a pumping residue in his veins. Whether the surgeon enjoyed the sensation or not, his life had been in danger for the brief time. Adrenaline commanded him flee, but common sense maintained sovereignty.

"I am afraid I do not understand your use of...mate," he prefaced, turning a skeptical eye to the smiling giant, "But I thank you for your assistance." Sun caught the green tint to the mans skin, highlighting the noteworthy differences between him and the majority of the humans in the market place. Of course, Akalak. The imposing race of muscled spectrum men had provided an interesting sight when his trading caravan had stopped near Riverfall briefly. Of course he was nursing an illness at the time and regrettably forwent his usual cursory examination of the culture and species. Now afforded him a rare opportunity, although from what he had heard about the patriarchal race, they did not smile upon weakness. Why then protect?

Ah well, every culture had its rebel.

The Symnestra bent, a pale willow dipping among his belongings to gather the scattered equipment. Nothing drastic had been done, merely a few misplaced miza quickly retrieved from the diverted stream of people. Straightening, clenching his hands gingerly and unclenching them in quick successions, Dhalvasha once more turned to his rescuer, a wider smile on his face.

It was only in the face of discovery that he remembered the expression, that it felt right.

"Not many would have stopped," he started again, taking a more jovial tone. It felt strange in his throat, like fur, "May I inquire what motivated your actions?"

Putting a hand across his eyes, Dhalvasha squinted up at Nilkayn. The sun weighted his smile into a scowl, his sensitive eyes still straining to adjust. "Perhaps another location to speak? Somewhere a little less crowded?"

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn helped up the tall lanky man, his eyes attempting to seize him up, pale skin tone, elongated and delicate arms, and general delicate frame. He had seen that kind before, Symenstra. His smiled widened slightly, in general amusement. "Mate, meaning friend. And you are welcome it was the right thing to do." How could you call this weakling friend? He is just one of those blood sucking vermin. Didn't I tell you to SHUT UP! Nil raged in the background, as Kayn refocused on the Symenstra before him. "Oh yes, we could go to the Rearing Stallion Tavern." He started to lead the man to the tavern, finally after some time in this city he had got use to most of its geography. He talked as he walked, "Yes, it is true most would not be kind, but I like to think that if I treat people right, then the gods will balance out my fate to reward me in some way. Maybe now, or maybe in the far future. And it is also true that, I have been saved by strangers kindness before a well, and I feel it is my duty to treat people as I have been treated." He turned to the man who he hoped was keeping up, "So how long have you been in Syliras? And what brought you here?"

[Dhalvasha]

There was a moment of conflict in the Akalak, a facial confusion Dhalvasha had seen once before. Superstitious travelers spoke as though the Akalak battled a darker half constantly, that all were two souls in one body...one a darker savage. Personally, Dhalvasha gave no credit to the rumors, but the story no less interested him. Akalak represented a race populated entirely by males. Unlike the all female Konti, the Akalak were their evolutionary opposite. How varied the races in Mizahar lived, how confusing their births. From Irriari he had learned many Zith are born in twins, an insurance against their hunted existence. How curious that an Akalak could only be male, or a Konti female, as though the race itself survived off the ability of the other to produce offspring. In that manner, they resembled the Symnestra. Three races dependent on others for the most intrinsic of life functions. Had any of them been isolated, they would have died off on their own in all likelihood.

What constituted such a change? Why were all the sentient races of Mizahar different? Those put to the question spoke of gods and plans, of divinity and predestined fates. So, was all of science simply excuseable by divine design? Was no being a product of adapting to environment? The Symnestra had once lived elsewhere, had not squatted in a cave among gossamer webs and inky shadows. Were the Symnestra of before the same as those now? Was a god responsible for their change? Too many unanswered questions, too much blind faith on an unreliable power.

His own opinions on the gods aside, their presence in Mizahar simply did not completely justify the amount of variation among the races...but what was more was not their differences, but their innate similarities.

As though they had shared a common ancestor.

"The Rearing Stallion," He murmured, only half listening, "Is it particularly loud?"

Snippets of conversation rose barb-like from the babble of voices, snatching away his thoughts and shredding concentration. Syliras had been a poor choice to pause at, and in retrospect he couldn't remember why he had agreed to it. Sooner should he have stayed in Cyphrus learning poison with Irriari. Her kind were savage, but given his frail disposition, were mostly unconcerned with his presence. Too weak for a slave, too weak to fear. Of course he wouldn't have it any other way. Prejudice and fear complicated his studies. Among humans, he had to keep half a mind on simply avoiding the repercussions of hatred.

It was easier to hold a conversation with the muscled Akalak anyways. His theories and postulations could wait.

"You put faith in the gods, do you?" Was there disdain in his voice? If so, it slipped out unconsciously, riding the thought across his tongue and beyond. He corrected it with a grunt, clearing his throat and continuing, "My journey is based around research and a trade route, little else. Of course, Syliras offers me an opportunity to view one of the largerst cities in Mizahar at work. Certainly no travel is wasted save for those places one does not learn something from."

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn shrugged at the mans comment about the stallion being load. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn't. But its a tavern, mot likely it will be loud. He heard the slight tone of distain in the mans voice but decided to ignore it. "Yes, I put my faith in the gods. For what else is there to put faith into? All beings are flawed and there is no such thing as perfection, no matter how much we attempt to reach it. The gods on the other hand are divine beings of power. It is true that some are flawed, and all of them have there strengths and weaknesses. So that Is why I worship all gods that I feel worthy of my faith." He paused catching his breath, watching the man from the corner of his eye. "As to the fact of travel. Travel is the means to an end. I travel to learn, or research as you put it, also to find adventure, romance, and a purpose for life." He paused his head caught in the clouds, he would continue to walk silently until someone or something interrupted him.

[Dhalvasha]

Dhalvasha blinked, "You worship the gods because despite being of great power, they are flawed as we are...so is a god no different from a master reimancer who commands the elements at will? What then binds you to their cause? Their ambiguity? Their ability to interfere or...intervene, at their whims? I would not call myself a pious man so it is of interest to me who holds faith in what...and for what reason."

He walked in stride with the Akalak, not quite as imposing as the fellow but nearly as tall. Together they represented opposite extremes, colored and built in vastly different manners.

It was the smell of sour hops, the bland taste of sweat in the air that heralded the Stallion. The sign wilted in the sun ahead of them, a weary promise for drink and conversation.

Dhalvasha was no expert on Symnestra biology, but alcohol generally did not sit well in their blood streams. The specific diet their body called for may include the partially fermented fruit occasionally, but he was of the personal opinion alcohol was a veiled poison in anyone's body.

"What is it you seek to learn, Akalak?" He asked suddenly, peering up at the warrior. He certainly did not seem the scholar.

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn started out of his daydreaming glancing at the man as he questioned his faith, he decided to ignore the man. He had no wish to fight with his new friends so he thought it best to leave this subject. He caught site of the inn, and a smile broke out on his face; His pace quickened, as he could not wait to order a stout drink. He was caught of guard by the sudden question. "Well anything that can help me in my endeavors, be that combat, magic, or just general knowledge."

[Dhalvasha]

Ignored, the mark of a guarded man. Dhalvasha did not comment again on the gods, noting the way the Akalak looked away, how his eyes followed the contours of some distant object, the way his smile turned toward a frown but briefly in their conversation. Disdain was a poison Dhalvasha supped frequently. People with their guarded pasts and beliefs only proved hurdles in an ever more arduous task of quantifying the limitations and measure of faith. Gods did little, in Dhalvasha's experience, other than meddle with lives. Their power was the awesome inferno to a mortal's flickering spark...or so it was supposed. He's heard whispers, once, that these little flickers had killed gods before, had plucked a heart from their chest or dashed their body with some mighty weapon. The veracity of such tales were unlikely to be verified, of course, most of them owing their roots to well before the Cataclysm. Even so, if mankind believed they could kill a God...what was stopping them from stopping the less popular ones?

Idly, almost as a means of insurance that this relationship might be fruitful, Dhalvasha speared Nilkayn's aura, whispering mantras of transparency, of trust, of sharing his thoughts with the strange pale companion beside him. He caught the Akalak's eye when he strode ahead, turning to catch his gaze and sending Djed coursing through their line of sight. They might have been entering a bar, but it helped to know that even inside, he could maintain that tenuous connection.

Certainly the noise almost obliterated it, and Dhalvasha winced against the harsh noise that filled the crowded room. He took a seat toward the outer wall, scowling as he tried to think over the howls and ruckus. He was here, of course, to examine the Akalak...to see what he could learn, if anything, and apply it to his other research. The multiple 'soul' enigma was only secondary to their strict same sex births.

Waving to the Akalak, the Symenestra cringed toward the shadows as though melting into their nothingness. He wanted little more than to conclude his business and begone.

But a sense of overpowering curiosity held him at bay...

As it always did.

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn continued to walk, and when he got to the door he shoved it open using a only small portion of his strength, which was still enough to cuase the door to slam open. As he entered he breathed in the welcoming scent of vomit, alcohol, and sweating bodies. To most it would be revolting, but to him it was home. Spending his life in a city dedicated to males, there was much marry making of this kind, and Kayn was one of those who had lead the pack so to speak. He followed the lanky man happy for him to pick there seat for them, though personally he would have picked a more open place, but he mentally shrugged. Nil seemed to quite, he must have been culled by there argument from before. Sitting down, the chair groaned in protest and held, he prayed it continued to. He hailed a serving wench ordering himself an ale he turned to the tall man, "What drink do'ya want?"