A Dreamer's Scheme (Antar, Naama, and Ulric)

[Shai]

Timestamp: 45thThat day ok for everyone? of Winter, 511 AV.

“I need to find a man that kinda seems to like to piss on statues, if I remember right.”

Shai’s simple directive from the rogue kept her busy most of the evening. Primarily they had to locate the brute which had taken a considerable amount of searching. Perhaps by chance or providence the lithe spider finally caught a glimpse of man in question. Slinking back into the alley she had come from the Symenestra pulled her cloak tight and attempted to blend into the shadows. It was a waiting game now. No matter Antar’s desire to find this man, she refused to break into until it was all but certain that he slept.

Patience was a virtue that the thief was prone to display in great quantities; nearly the most valuable skill in her arsenal. Squatting down the little woman began the extended sojourn, keeping company with her equally, or perhaps better, hidden companion as evening augmented their hiding place with every passing moment. Speaking not a word among them the pair waited as the bells chimed on beyond the moon’s apex. Occasionally the little spider would stretch or habitually check the pockets stitched into the inner lining of her cloak.

They wouldn’t be moving until she was comfortable. There were very few vulnerable positions quite like being caught picking a lock; there was no viable justification for it and a rage inspired strike difficult to evade. Finally, the perfect moment came as winter clouds darkened and pregnant with promised precipitation obscured Leth’s light. With little more than a tap on Antar’s shoulder as warning Shai stood and slipped over the cobble distance on whispered cat’s steps. Bare feet were considerably easier to muffle than boots. Crouching down before the surprisingly strong door the thief pulled her picks and pries from their designated pockets.

Surveying the lock Shai noted its quality was at odds with the stout timbers of the door; it was elementary at best. The trick would be to quiet the clank of release as the lock released. Inserting the delicate implements she gently sought the hitch in the cylinder but avoided the pressure required to create the obnoxious scrapping that would characterize a typical break in. Usually there weren’t, hopefully, sleeping occupants behind her locks. Applying pressure with her pry wrench she slid the lock home with a twist. The click seemed deafening to the spider but in reality it was probably no louder than a cricket’s chirp. Gingerly inching the door open, Shai aimed amethyst eyes at the rogue and nodded. Then tasked them back towards the interior of the shack, Symenestra night vision illuminating the shadows.

[Antar]

Slinking softly upon treaded steps, the rogue through the open door to take a peek inside to see if the hut in question heralded the man he wished to meet. His eyes twinkled with amusement at the sight of two loversNaama and Ulric lying asleep upon the bed, and the small fire in the nearby hearth. It was a one room shack, with bottles of ale littered about, and the entire place held

The musty odor of alcoholic beverages was thick in the air, along with other scents best unmentioned.

Without care, of the circumstance, the rogue looked towards a small table where a bit of mugs, some clean, some not were arrayed about, and slowly began to set out four places., He motioned for Shai to follow in behind him, to quietly have a seat in one of the nearby chairs as he musingly looked about.. The hovel was a ramshackle sort of construction, in much need of repairs... perhaps if things bode well here he might consider doing a little bit of work, if the man was able to answer his many questions. The two were passed out, quite cheerfully in each others arms, and covered only by the thickest of blankets... and it seemed the male and female had left their weapons resting against the nearby wall.

Ever curious to see if they were actually awake, or merely playing possum, the rogue allowed his djed to surge towards his eyes.


He concentrated first on the woman's aura, letting him see the inclinations of heat emanating from below the sheets that ensured the brute at least had not killed her during the night's events, or at least what he assumed to be the nights events which had passed between them. A mixture of heat traces, reds, golds, greens and blues, could be discerned only for a moment, until the emotional tangents were tasted in his sight, varying colors of pinks, and chartreuse in a kaleidiscopic pattern in which he could not discern what they meant.

A mystery, an enigma, 'who was the woman to this man anyways?'

Then his Sight ventured towards the man, and the process was repeated, his Sight not telling him anything of which he wished to know. Save that both of the pair seemed to be exhausted after a night together. No, for all it seemed, the male was just a mortal being... not some dream like figure from a nightmare so real it felt ingrained on his soul. Perhaps some questioning would suffice to begin to fathom what was what and who was whom...

But first that pesky axe had to be dealt with. There was no reason for him to wake up a man in a haze, and have him attack for no reason... nor did he imagine that the woman was any pushover when it came to defending herself. Not if his hunches were correct.

Padding across the space between, the rogue would gently lift and move the axe, and the other weapons, letting them settle upon the wall as he gave Shai an amused glance. as he shut down the djed flow from his eyes. There was a pot by the fire, he procured and filled as quietly as possible with water from his waterskin.

Placing it back upon the hearthspit, he would bring a series of small logs from the metal holding bracket to place them upon the fire rack above the white ash coals. A small bit of reimancy helped to create the fire quickly, and soon he would have a seat next to Shai until the pot of water began to boil. Then he'd add tea leaves he had procured from the markets earlier. As well as a bit of food, vegetables, and bread he had bought from the store. He noticed that there was enough space for everything he brought.

But that wasn't all he noticed, he noticed a small bundle nestled into the side of a pit, where when he took a closer look revealed the form of a small child... 'interesting.' He'd have to keep an eye on the unwashed and greasy lad , and figure out if he was a threat. But for now, he'd wait.

Clad deep within the folds of their shadowsilk robes, their faces mostly hidden, the rogue and the spider who had come to visit would seem little more then living shadows sitting peacefully amidst the flickering light of the fire. Just sitting there, unmoving as stone, and twice as still save for the small amused glances which passed between the two as they seemed to almost silently communicate with barely a movement of their fingers as they signed to one another between even longer bouts of stillness.

The rogue had slowly begun to teach Shai his method of speaking with his hands, feeling that such would be a useful exchange to learn symenos from her. But such things were a different matter entirely. The white haired man estimated it was the fifth bell of a new day right now, and soon enough, the sound of the boiling water, and the aroma of strong tea would begin to bring the sleeping couple back to wakefulness...

[Ulric]

“Gugh,” he growled, waking up drenched by fever of sweat. “Urgh.” He’d been dreaming of horses. He was being ripped to shreds, those long, bony jaws tearing out ropy gray-purple coils of his guts, just as they’d done for his ear, the lurid thunder of a blunt hoof on the cage of his ribs.

They kept hurting, though. The dream was over, but they kept aching. He vaguely felt like he was going to explode, as though he’d choked down a sack of rice, and the pale, dirty worms were distending in his gut, trying to escape in a surge of sickly bloat. The thought wasn’t very comforting. He wiped splayed fingers over his dark, bleary eyes, trying to curl up to ward off the angry churning of liquor. Nearby, the pit was an inky void near his cheek, scantly ridged by the glow of red ember worms, caught by a swirl of cinders. Go away, he grunted, turning away from lingering stench of dry urine and stale, crusty blood, jerking the furs away from his bare chest. He couldn’t feel his toes, confined by the snug embrace of his boots. Hazily, he found there was something draped over his legs, leaden yet tautly fleshy, confused by a tangle of jet.

Naama.

Vainly, he groped for the tawny sprawl of her cheek. Naama, he tried to grunt, but nothing came out. Naama, get away,. He just gave her a clap on the leg, but she didn’t stir. “Wine,” he forced a croak, caught up by a sullen despair. Where’s the wine gone? Hazily, he cast around, clenching at a sticky, nearly empty skin. He jerked it to his chest, yanking out the cork with his jaws, and took a long, greedy gulp of the sour red.

For a time, he drifted on a tide of gray bones, seared by a tawdry jade sky. Not bad, he thought, as he crept though a jungle, tangled by creepers and vast serpents, hunting a jaguar. He saved a tiny salamander from the fangs of a spider, was brought to feast at its lair where he ate a platter of crunchy locusts, and capered on the broad back of a huge, warty toad.

And then, he woke up.

He’d been chewing on her shoulder, leaving pearls of spit. He was covering her, laying bare the scars whorling vastly over his back, his face thrust, nearly sweltering, in the sprawl of her hair.

There was a choking, acrid reek in the smoky chamber, and a pair of robed usurpers perched on his bench, one of them a spider, weaving their dirty fingers around his mugs. Silencers? There was an indigo blur, lying just under the bench, deftly binding their legs together with a length of cord.

“Sonas audfb qwy odn aydv.” Desank gave him a wink, tusks coming dangerously near to goring a leg, and went back to his prank. “Jasdn, weubf avf wueb adb on qwyevd. Dubfb onf adb qyv fbdbf byfdsf ibdbf qwub cns sdfbisdj. Dbfbdaf nwb baso, bfndgf qfds an adub, qufb mdsu in nquqf.”

Ulric just gave a grunt, plunged his face back into the warm, fleshy crevice under the savage’s arm. “Don’t touch the mugs.”

OOCUsual warning, don’t expect to see/hear the Gasvik.

[Naama]

Rarely were dreams peaceful anomalies that brought some semblance of respite from reality. Her dreams were laced with fear and dread, and horrors that left her tossing and turning and waking when all else is deep in their own joyful slumbers. Perhaps that was why she slept so heavily, brows furrowed to some unseen abomination, long fingers curled around invisible swords. She barely stirred when the rogues entered their humble little abode. Squirt, however, was a relatively light sleeper. His eyes peeked above the blanket that enveloped him like a cocoon, watching and waiting, his sword carefully hidden beneath the folds of wool. It was only the combined effort of bitter smoke and the scent of tea that awoke her. She blinked back the blur, wearily glancing toward Ulric, and then to the shadows that sat complacently across from them. The wetness on her shoulder, however, garnered a glare from the Myrian. "Chew on Squirt next time." She regarded the intruders with a curious look. "Were you planning to wake us for a pleasant time or are you going to drop the act of mysterious trespasser?" Idly, she reached for the swords beside her and found that they'd been removed. Clever little bastards. She sat up with a grimace, her breasts bared, but if Naama had any shred of modesty left it had long since been eradicated. She wiped the spit from her shoulder and smeared it across the warrior's chest. "If you touch my jewelry, I'll feed your corpses to my monkey."

[Shai]

While Shai waited, ankles crossed, she leisurely inspected one of the mugs. Tilting her head back to allow her hood to tumble down onto her shoulders, the spider redirected her scrutinizing to the previously slumbering couple. As she sat surveying; tell-tale slithers of a fibrous weave rubbing along her bare ankles alarmed the quiet spider. Holding no doubt as to what was tying around her ankles for surely it could only be magic; Shai carefully subdued her reaction into nonexistence. Running the pads of her fingers along the mug’s grain one last time before settling it upon the table at the ruffian’s request. The spider languidly bent forward as if the supernatural was of no concern, although inwardly she cursed it. Inserting her nails between her skin and the binding the Symenestra shredded through it as she pulled her carriage back up right. She’d taken a moment to look beneath them to make certain there wasn’t another person in the shack; the empty space beneath the bench seemed to support her initial estimation of magic. Readjusting to sit upon her knees Shai tried to prevent any further bindings.

Raising an eyebrow at the Chaktawe’s boldness Shai ruined the rogues’ silence. “Oh. We are mysterious? Sounds like a compliment to me.” Speaking in Antar’s direction, “Do you agree?” The Symenestra let an enigmatic smile flicker over her features before turning back to the topless woman. Another one that’s top heavy. Why are the humans always so buxom? Doesn’t all of that extra fat impede them? Shai had to consciously keep the scowl from her face and instead replaced it with a deadpan stare. She would never understand why men preferred such overweight sows to properly figured women. “Though your flattery wins you points I assure you. Certainly a tempting proposition, but business ought to come before pleasure. Sadly, we cannot dally; the tea would grow cold. And, honestly, who wants to drink cold tea?” At the mention of jewelry the thief’s eyes went back to probing the shadows of the chamber. At first she had assumed the only wealth to be found was the considerable collection of mugs, but if there was jewelry to be found ... .Regardless she might just be cataloguing their location, for safety purposes.

Why do I bother? Anyone who lives in such base conditions can’t have jewelry of value. At least not enough value to warrant garnering their ire. Shai had seen the weapons Antar had removed and she had no desire to be primate cuisine. Momentarily placing her schemes on hold she focused her attentions on the three strangers, watching for any imminent signs of aggression. This was after all Antar’s job, she was simply a bystander now that the target was located and the way unlocked.

[Antar]

Antar smiled at Shai's snarky response, noticing her body language's irritation at the other woman's inconfluencing ability to show her body without regard to her naked form. Not that it was a bad form, muscular, athletic, and the extra bulwark to her assets was certainly enough to make any man smile as more prurient thoughts entered their heads. It was evident whenever the woman had a child in the future, such miracles of motherhood would swell her chest to new sizes to give them more "bust" to an already nice pair.

They were slighty larger then Shai's but not by much. He preferred Shai's,of course, not needing some unnecessary complications from the symenestra women's claws, otherwise he might have been tempted by the idea of a foursome. The offer was tempting in so many ways: Hedonism held wonderful potential for exercise and to ensure more ... peaceful negotiations. Still most men would only be thinking with their lower head at such a proposal instead of listening to their brain. But not Antar, he had long ago learned that sexuality was just as much of a weapon as the pairs missing sword and axe. So he wisely kept his mouth shut.

He glanced around the hovel, considering its construction in a disinterested manner as Shai talked about flattery. Though he did keep an eye upon the small form in the pit. Changes in the pace of the boy's exhalations of breath amidst the cool air was enough of a sign that the Squirt had come awake. "So I guess squirt, is the monkey the male is supposed to be chewing on? Little varmint is certainly good at playing silent and unresponsive it seems. No matter, we're not here to harm either of you; if we had wanted to do that it would have happened in your sleep."

He kept a close eye on Shai's movements as she bent down to undo a bit of rope from their legs. Arching an eyebrow, he wondered if one of the pair , or the boy was a darn projectionist walking around with his astral self. Unfortunately, for the boy that was, that meant if things did get violent he'd be the first targeted. Though he couldn't say for sure it was him. Putting his feet up to negate any further tampering with his shoelaces Antar began to speak. "Besides the mysterious comment is quite flattering , I don't like to harm those that seem to be civil in their dealings with me. Perhaps now would be a good time for some tea? I've come prepared by bringing a bit of wine as well if you aren't... ah... finished with your ... exercises. I didn't think this man would be having company this night as I simply wanted to approach him for a job."

Glancing sideways a little beneath the cowl, the pair would hear the words, "Yes, yes I think that would be the best way to proceed. A bit of breakfast, a bit of tea , and then the proposition for the job I'm thinking of. Lots of threads left unexplained from that horrible situation earlier in the season. Much things needing explanations, and perhaps being able to find them in the Ristage Caverns. Of course, that can be discussed later, for now- food, tea, and spirits would be best. But I doubt any for the boy. Such would be uncivilized."

Taking a few mugs , he stood up and went to fill them with tea before setting one down close to the edge of the pit where the boy was before, placing the tea cup down where he could get to it if he climbed up from the pit. The next two cups were laid on the rickety table beside the bed, followed by a bottle of hard liquor, both within reach of both the woman and the man who eyed him dangerously as he memorized the scars upon both their skin.

Though if he thought about it, it would seem as if he had been checking both of them out. Maybe for later? Stopping suddenly, the rogue smiled disarmingly and shrugged as he figured the negotiations had already began. From his vantage point, and the angle he kept his head tilted , Ulric would have a clear glimpse at half his features, perhaps forming a spark of recognition. Naama however would only see his mouth speaking. "Of course, don't be alarmed when I say that both of you have beautiful auras, think of it as a compliment of sorts and please... get your tea, and spirits and sit down with us for a bit of breakfast to discuss terms if you are interested. If not, we will simply leave and let you be to your... passions of the day."

[Ulric]

Murmurs, echoing in the void. Harshly, tautly breaking the tinge of dark before his eyes. Making him grunt. Making him grasp at his fur. The red coals writhed, squealing as they burned, shrouded by gray, sloughing wedges of char. Every pop was an eternity. The warped, heavy timbers of the low roof creaked, hanks of tarry rope, the vast nets, encrusted by tiny hunks of salt, hanging from the rafters. The slosh of mugs, laden with brown, searing contents, placed on the floor. The fester of the sooty, dented pot. And everywhere, shadows.

They writhed, crowding the corners, dancing over the worn, crude chest, the shelf and its sprawl of crockery, the jumble of augers and pincers. The worn ladder, its rungs an inky smear. The pit gaping, beset by spikes, nearly vanishing in a pluming haze of smoke, the uneasy cover of jet. The cask of ale, nearly consumed by the coils of rope, furls of canvas that crowded his pallet, the dry rushes crushed, rustling softly under the moving contours of his body. The chamber was squat, sparse. The plaster, dark, fading whorls scrawled in charcoal, crumbling in chunks.

They’d broken in. They’d used his mugs. They’d sat on his bench, and smugly probed at his embers.

Shut up.

Ulric hurled the fur away, swept up with a growl. He was yet clad in pauldrons, gray, heavy slabs of metal that slanted over his huge shoulders, his trousers slightly yanked down, showing patches of coarse hair, boots yet fastened over his legs. He kept the bearded axe behind his leg, a wedge of pink on his ribs, where the edge had sunk into the press of his flesh, ever cradled by burly arms. “Your words are cheap,” he grunted, a promise of carnage in his dark, inexorably ruthless eyes. “You want elegance, why don’t you lick a poet’s arse. You’re just a mockery. You, just worms in your cowls, speaking of nothing, presuming everything.”

“Desank?”

The bench jerked away, swept over the dark to clang against the chest. The Gasvik had to hunch under the rafters, its broad, flat head twisted by a tusked snarl, corded chest bulging. “Fen adon qwub omenwe,” came the jabber. “Laeon adb, zxb qfv pasndu kwgf df qwin bsady. Jadf uwqeh af xadd.”

“Not yet,” he glared, forcing and shrug, and scoured his gaze over the cowled intruders, his brow vaguely rising. “You want something, just ask for it. None of your japes. None of your mincing. Lay down your cards, and pray you’ve enough gold to pay my price.”

Ulric gave a snort, a twist of his jaw, and Naama’s curving swords were flying back toward her, and the Gasvik crept over to upset the pot, making the liquid boil over the worn, irregular boards. There was a hiss of ash.

“Now.”

[Naama]

The soft white blouse was slipped over her head as the intruders spoke, hardly a word registered. Spineless rats who hide behind shadows, what's there to be proud of? "Your social skills must be sorely lacking if you believe breaking into someone's home with the offer of breakfast and tea is the right way to go about a transaction. How the petch do you forget the ale?" The man spoke of trifling things, auras and colors and things of such magical nature that the Myrian had rarely been exposed to. Yet she felt no unease among them. Then Ulric surged forward, her swords flying across the room to her outstretched hands. As opposed to the warrior, Naama was in no hurry. She stood and fastened her leather leggings, then settled herself casually against the crumbling plaster, her curved blades catching the warm glow of the fire. Squirt threw off his blanket and rushed to Ulric's side, all in oversized sleeping garbs and unkempt hair, his sword held aloft in both hands. "Can I hit someone this time?" "Be careful where you swing that or I'll spank you with it," The Myrian warned.

[Shai]

oocApologies for the strange posts, we worked on them together to try to push the proposal along. No, the characters don't ever shut up. Hopefully it's not too confusing.

Shai sprung backwards as the bench began to shift, using the micro-cilia protruding from her skin to keep her balance. Attaching herself to the wall behind, the spider watched as magic moved the items again. Rapidly flickering her gaze between the shack's three usually occupants the thief was still unable to discern who was the mage, none of them quite fit; the child seemed too young for such proficiency, the woman had made no evident gestures or incantations, and the man seemed to preoccupied berating Antar. Curious . Lowering herself back down the wall the spider hit the floor with gentle thumps.

"You know, he is right. We probably could have just come when they woke up. Or, alternatively, as the female suggests brought ale." Keeping her eyes on the woman, the first to leave the bed. The thief kept to the balls of her feet ready to evade at any visible sign of aggression towards her. For the most part the Symenestra discounted the child, although he wasn't much smaller than she herself was, letting Antar deal with the boy.

Antar tossed a retort in her direction, "Ale... you know wine is better sometimes?"

Raising an eyebrow the spider nodded, "All the time in my opinion but my opinion does not count this dawn; theirs does."

"True, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil. No need to get violent with them, no matter what they do. We'll never get to talk about the legends down in ristage cavern that way."

Her eyes widening; the svelte burglar laced her words with scorn, "You had me break into their home in the pre-dawn, when we knew they would be asleep, for a legend?" She huffed, "I would threaten you with an axe too."

"Not really, I just wanted to check something else out with the male here." He paused briefly, "Oh dear, but at least you'd only chop off the unneeded bits. I'm sure it would be quite bloody; besides I need to know if he's what I think he is. It's a potential loyalty thing... though I hopefully don't have to come to blows with him... I mean check out those muscles." The rogue returned to look at Ulric, "He does have such an interesting figure."

Shai wanted to throw something at him; if it came to blows she might just help them. Loyalty? Talking about his figure? The spider intended to set things straight before Antar implied anything further. "You are not buying his loyalty with my cunt, just to be clear."

He turned back to look at her, "My dear, you are for me and me alone until you choose otherwise... but just think of all the hedonistic fun we could all have instead of this horrible grasping for weapons and such like."

Shai snorted but said no more on this train of thought. He seemed to think he'd placated her which was not at all the case. Someday the man would comprehend just how repulsive she found most humans. But to correct him now would not help their case so she kept quiet on the subject.

"They do not seem to appreciate the smoke and daggers mystique we so carefully crafted." The spider had to consciously stop herself form chuckling, it wasn't the time for jokes but she found it humorous that thanks to the pot tipping and the weapons she knew Antar went nowhere without they were literally providing smoke and daggers.

Shai would have been happy to reveal the rogue's proposal to their audience, but she knew it would only steal whatever bit of suspense he was trying to cultivate with their odd entrance so she held her tongue. Instead she smirked towards the woman, "If they start pissing to mark their territory I am leaving before they try to piss on us."

The rogue finally conceded, "Alright, fine..."

[Antar]

oocNope the character's don't shut up... unless they pause as they decide to try to assassinate someone or burn them to ash. But not Ulric or naama kins D: Antar's too fascinated with them to realize he's being a jerk at times XD.

"... I'll tell them." Antar said as he pulled back his hood to shake free his white hair, allowing the man and woman to see his face clearly for the first time that morning. He took a moment to pause and look Ulric directly in the eye. Speaking slowly and plainly as he had been asked to do. "I want to take the two of you down to Ristage Caverns to search for treasure, there's supposed to be a lot of it if it can be found though I make no guarantees. Though I must say I don't think you're a mage though that trick with the woman's swords is quite fascinating. It wasn't projection though, I didn't see an astral stretch of an arm so I'll have to consider it something else to figure out later."

He turned his head slightly to allow his eyes to flit towards Naama before motioning with his chin towards Squirt, "Is he both yours and this man's child? Nevermind."

He turned to look back at Ulric, "Please curb the child's enthusiasm, he is certainlya brave lad but I do not wish any violence here; if I had, you'd already have been dead and this hut burned to ash from the outside.Besides..."

His eyes glanced woefully back towards the pot, still keeping his peripheral vision on Ulric's axe. "Perhaps maybe there might be the chance to gain back some tea from the pot if its not all spilled. I hate it when tea's spilled or wasted; I guess almost as much as you dislike mugs being used. Though I wouldn't get angry over it. No use crying over spilled tea or somesuch as the old saying goes. You look so familiar it intrigues me , my icy skeleton friend... and I aim to figure out why! But let's forget about that for now and talk about the real item of interest: treasure hunting!!! Yes... I Antar. Wish. To. Go. Treasure. Hunting."

Walking a pace or two away from Ulric, he would pause and turn around lackadaisically, like the air head he seemed to be. Or was he. "As for payment, I'd rather you understand here and now, extortion of any sort is not an option. Your in or your out on this endeavor. So three questions... I need to choose your words carefully for: What's your name? What's it going to be? And what is your requested price for a day?"