Moments Before the Crash (Kav, Cuga, Ser)

[Lualani Nav'iale]

15th of Winter, 511 AV


The normally hot sun beat down on the never ending sea of grass, as it was so rightly named, and the cool northern wind blew through the blades, causing the temperature to drop instantly. Now, as it was winter, you wouldn't normally think many people in their right minds would be travelling... but these were special circumstances, and these people were no where near being in their right minds.

A covered caravan was slowly rolling through the grass-covered, rock hard ground and it jumped and bumped at each and every small pebble it ran over causing the passengers to moan in displeasure. Though, that was not the only thing they had to be displeased about. You see, this caravan was a slave caravan. All in all, there were about 8 girls stowed in the back cabin of the caravan.

To name a few things that could be seen right off the bat, is that these girls had to have been freezing especially as the day went on and the sun crept lower and lower down the sky. Not even one of them had a proper jacket or cloak or even a measly blanket. Slightly torn or worn thin dresses and shirts were the only things that covered these girls, but i guess they could consider themselves relatively lucky seeing as they had a bit of bread and water that the slavers had left for them, although stale. They counted their blessings as they weren't tied up either.

Well, all except for one. A small, pale white girl who sat in the corner was the only exception. It wasn't clear why, but she was the only one who was restrained. A blindfold covered tear stricken eyes that surely were blood-shot from the travel and the constant tears that would have fallen. Another piece of cloth was wrapped around her face and stuck in her mouth, not allowing her to speak or use her teeth to try and untie any of the knots if she had enough strength. All that she could really do was make a make a small groan, cry or maybe a muffled response, but none of it was intelligable as it was unclear as to what language she was even speaking.

To add insult to injury, her hands were tied behind her back as well as her ankles, making it seemingly impossible for her to move. What she could have done to have gotten this treatment was unknown, but it couldnt have been good.

The small girl was only wearing the remains of a tattered dress, but it was caked in dried blood as well. It was evident that the blood had come from deep lasserations all over her body, made to inflict immense pain.

All of the other girls seemed to have gotten off easy compared to her seeing as none of them even had a scratch on them. They might have been a little skinny, or a little cold, but their condition was livable.

AROUND THE 50TH OF WINTER 511

As the nights went on and the nights turned into days and the days turned into even longer nights, it seemed like there would be no hope. Every so often, one of the grotesque, overweight looking slavers would come to the back to make sure none of them had died yet. It appeared one of his jobs was to also feed the pale girl. Loosening the gag that was placed tightly around her mouth, he began to give her a few drops of water, but she wouldnt take it.

"c'mon sweeeeety... I know you must be thirsty... Be grateful and drink like the worthless piece of trash you are!" the man taunted in common, his words drenched in booze.

The girl spit the water right back at him.

Now extrememly angry, the man placed the gag back in her mouth and picked the white haired girl up by her tattered dress, slightly expossing her pale chest.
"YOU LISTEN HERE YOU UNGRATEFUL B*TCH! YOU ARE LUCKY TO BE ALIVE, AND THAT WE HAVEN'T KILLED YO-" his drunken speil was inturrupted and terminated by a loud crash, followed by what almost felt like an earthquake.

The caravan driver who had apparently had too much to drink as well had crashed into a rock formation or something of that nature as it was hard to tell what it exactly was.

Screams of panic and yelps of pain were heard as both the enslaved girls and the slavers scrambled to get out of the caravan and to somewhere safe, which was very unlikely to be nearby.

Soon, the night became silent and the enslaved Konti became alone, tied up, and surely left out here to die as she could not move, make noise, or get to what little food and water there was.

There was surely no chance that she was going to make it out of her alive. The only good sign was the slight bit of light she could see through her blindfold...

[Cugacon]

A season had passed already, since the encounter with the glassbeaks on the lands grazed by the Sanctuary’s horses. To Cugacon, whose physical recovery went well enough after those first two weeks of convalescence, it sometimes seemed that entire years had passed. Other days, the small skirmish with the vicious predators seemed like it had just happened the day before. It was disturbing, this state of flux his mind seemed to be in. His memory seemed . . . scrambled – disjointed. Even after many, many weeks, he sometimes could not recall something that really had just passed within the previous twenty-four hours. He had asked Kavala several times if she was sure he had not suffered some undiagnosed injury to his brain. She had reassured him each time that this was not the case, but he saw – in her eyes. The Konti was troubled too, and he put it down to worry over his mental state. But beyond this tendency to have blank spots in his memories, everything else seemed to be in working order.

So he had resumed his duties as a hunter – both of animals and other creatures, men included. On this cold but sunny mid-winter day, he had been riding out with a small scouting party, on the trail of what was surely a slaver’s caravan. They had been in its wake for several hours now, having picked up the tell tale signs and followed at a cautious distance, gauging how to make their attack. Night gave the Akalaks a distinct advantage, and they had slowed their pace to plan a course of action. Cugacon was both slightly annoyed and greatly amused that Kavala had insisted on coming with him. Just because his memory was not all it should be was no reason to fear for his safety, out here in the sea of grass. The memory lapses seemed to have nothing to do with his skills as a hunter. If anything, since that encounter with the glassbeaks, he was throwing himself into his work with even more ferocity – perhaps to make up for what he perceived as a failure on his part during that skirmish. In any case, he had decided that it was pointless to argue with his Nakivak – and he always enjoyed her company. So if she chose to play mother hen, he would not object. He was only leery for her safety. But he knew well enough that Kavala was as tough as nails, and then some.

As the early night of winter settled over the restless, shivering grasses, Cuga and the rest reined in their mounts. One last consultation was had and each one knew the plan. Silently, they spread out in an arc that would hopefully close in on the now stationary caravan, before tightening the noose and catching the slavers by surprise. That was the plan anyway.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

It had only been nine or ten days since Kavala plucked him from certain death in Morwen’s grip. For that he was thankful, but it seemed the gods at be had more to play than just a simple Konti. No, they had a deeper history, one that expanded far past his memories of today. A past he was only now beginning to come to terms with in any way shape or form. She was Crescent, and he still didn’t know how she viewed him….being that he had been Tizack. He had done horrible things to her in his past life; but all for the right reasons. But in some ways ends didn’t justify the means enacted to achieve them. However; he did understand his past self a little more than he would care to admit.

They had been on this ‘hunt’ for a good part of an afternoon. Even clad in his bodysuit, cotton clothing and pure heavy winter cloak the wind still carried a certain ravenous bite. Feeding on all forms of heat like an out of control monster. Even Hasmere felt it, and he loved the snow. Here in the open rolling plains this winter loving horse was right at home. He could see anything way before it got to him; he liked that. The hunting party had come across tracks or some kind, and they believed they belonged to a slaver caravan of some kind. Serrif half wondered how they could be so sure on this…until he confirmed it by showing them a pair of shackles they had overlooked in the snow. They were still even somewhat warm meaning they were close.

Serrif stashed the shackles for later uses…one never knew what they could be used for. Serrif was having a sneaking suspicion that Kavala likely had to persuade Cugacon to let him in on this little ‘hunt’. But he was a competent archer, trained by the best Mura had to offer. However he was beginning to feel like his real obligation here was to keep Kavala from harm while the ‘men’ worked. They would need him soon enough when the crap hit the fan. He was still not sure why he was here, hunting his own kind. It was disgusting really, but hunting slavers…well that he could handle a little better. Still, the fact that this race felt that everything was theirs to hunt and kill…well that kind of mentality got people killed. One day they would bite off more than they could chew. He would love to see that someday. But being that he was part of this ‘hunting’ party he would rather put off that spectacle for another time.

The others taunted him a little. Seemingly to see if they could intimidate him. Truth was he had looked far worse in the face before than these dark skinned brutes. He didn’t let them intimidate him; he had felt Dira’s ushering hand leading him to death more than once. He had been in much darker places than these men could ever imagine. It was written all over his demeanor. The way he was constantly keeping an eye on these men as they seemingly eyed him to see just how skittish he was. They thought him weak, pitiful…and above all the worst insult….human. Yes he was nowhere near the ‘perfection’ of these men. But sometimes it was best to hide strength and skill under a guise until your expertise was needed. So he rode alongside Kavala, he felt comfortable around her versus these ‘hunters’.

They found the caravan and decided to wait for night. Serrif had a keen hunter’s eye so he was going to scout out the ‘kill area’ Where they would assault once night had fallen. But he didn’t see any real movement; only a wrecked wagon and what looked like scattering trails all over. Seemed the wagon wrecked and anyone with any sense at all scattered from the wagon and ran in any direction available to them. It was interesting that they were still waiting for night just to be safe. But perhaps these people would come back to the wagon? That was possible, likely even since it was the only real source of shelter out here. None that scattered into the wilderness would likely last the night, the cold temperatures would see to that…as would these dark skinned hunters.

So he waited for night, just like the rest of the group. He knew he might be excluded but that didn’t really bother him too much, but he could be of use to these men if they could see past his human exterior…but that all depended on how desperate they were. But they were here for a reason, to find out and acquire whatever was in and around that wagon. Serrif had his daggers, bow and quiver ready for disposal. He spoke quietly to Kavala and the others in the company.

“It all looks abandoned to me. Looks like they hit a rock and scattered through the grasslands…which doesn’t make sense.” He pondered that statement then on what he had seen…it matched up. It seemed they hit a rock and well just ran off into the snow. But it still didn’t seem to add up to him. Why behave that way? This was all making less and less sense to him, but then again these were unusual circumstances.

[Lualani Nav'iale]

(OOC: I am so sorry I have never roleplayed with more than one person at a time so I am trying to delete my post and save it for later and I cannot find the delete button like I could before, am I not allowed to? well please try to ignore the previous post if you did read it, I still like what I wrote so I am probably going to re post it when it is 'my turn' I am so sorry..... (_ _)lll)

[Kavala]

NoteI will post. Please wait for everyone to respond before you post again! I'm not sure why Lua moved the entire thread to the next day. Are we skipping the raid? I'm going to post as if its still the first day because forwarding the thread to the next day will rob us of a chance to actually 'rescue' her? Unless I missed something, which is very possible and if so I apologize!

Kavala paced quietly between Cugacon and Serrif. She'd provided mounts for the small hunting party, wanting the training for the animals in real time situations. There was only so much arena work she could do with them and by arrangement with the scheduler of patrols, she was slowly getting her stock experience by providing mounts for the patrols and hunting parties. She usually rode along when she could, instructing not only the riders but the horses as they rode. Serrif of course was mounted on his own horse, but Cugacon had Silk again, this time without a headstall. She'd left him a nice saddle and gave him the full armor as well. Ghost, beneath her, was armored up as well. The other various mares the party rode were headstal-less as well so the men could better use their bows on horses trained to leg cues.

When they were simply hunting, Kavala had been in full trainer mode, riding up and down the length of the group, correcting this seat, commenting on this hand position, instructing a younger Akalak on guideing the horse with his legs then repeating the instructions for his dark brother minutes later. She was comfortable among the Akalak and they didn't seem to mind her interference because the column moved smoother than they normally would have.

Fully armored, Kavala had on night leather and her weapons harness. She had Ghost outfitted so her weapons were close at hand and she didn't have to struggle to get to her daggers, blow gun, bolas, or crossbow. It was the only way to ride, especially after she'd learned the hard way over the last glassbeak encounter.

Besides the three of them, there were three more Akalaks mounted on Sanctuary stock and a commander mounted on his own horse. Kavala had thought they were going on an routine hunt, not expecting to come across the tracks of a wagon and its outriders.

She'd grown quiet when they passed the tracks, turned, and started to follow. When they came across the wagon parked, she peeled off and nudged Ghost into a gallop to circle about a mile out to see if she could flush the guards. It made no sense that they were hold up in the grass or had ran off. Slaves were valuable and weren't left abandoned on principle. She kept her eyes divided between the horizon and on the ground equally, looking for any glassbeak sign or other reasons why the men would flee. Kavala circled counterclockwise, riding wide, fully armored with her crossbow out and her blowgun pieced together, the darts loaded on her weapons harness and within grasp should she exhaust her crossbow bolts too fast.

[Lualani Nav'iale]

Heavy breathing and frantic movements were all that was heard, until a loud thud came as a large man fell face first into the snow as a taller, leaner man stopped him.

"you disappoint me..." the taller man said with scorn in his eyes, obviously ythinking that just being in the precense of that loathsome oaf was degrading. "even this menial job was too mich dor you? You were to drive these whores to the drop off point, and even you couldn't do it... The boss gave you a second chance after last time too... Despicable!" he spat as he picked up the heavier wet man from the snow directly in front od him.

Without breaking a sweat, the man brought him to his eye level and stared him down. There was alchohol on the tubbier one's breath...

" i-i'm sorry sir i-" he stqmmered, obviously aftaid od his superior.

Thud

The sound was muted by the white covering of the ground as well as the entire stretch of the area around them.

"sorry. Is that all that you have to say for yourself?" sighing, he bent down and took the man's pack, and looked towards the site of the crash. " you. Pick yourself up. Come with me."

Withouyt looking back, the dominant one turned and headed in the direction of the broken down caravan? But stopped short near a single, fellen tree.
The drunkard hobbled up and quickly, but clumsily ran towards the other, obviouisly confused, but grateful that his head wasn't already cut off.

As they reached the tree, the taller one knelt down, hiding his head whiole ducking down. Hthe fat one dollowed suit, but part of his behing could still be seen as he waited for his superior to ecplain the plan.

"see that caraban ocer there? The one that you so IDIOTICALLY crashed into a rock? And the one that you so STUPIDLY ran qway from, leaving the ONLY piece of cargo that was abord, on there!?!

He coule only fulp and nod.

"well, i have met with some of the other riders, and they have seen an akalak hunting paety nearby. We are going to plan an ambush, tale their supplies, and get back the seer."

oocthis is all npc, just fyi... Sorry for the long wait i just didnt want to go out of turn again... Plus i have finals this week, so if yall do reply, i probably wont until friday... Thanks/sorry ...