I'm Lost (Ireth)

[Josiah Bent]

Summer 70. 513 AV Swearing softly under his breath, Joe looked to his right, and then to his left, and then straight ahead, and the canal that lay practically at his feet. He could have sworn this was the right way. But no, this city that floated on bits and pieces was maddeningly and forever turning him around. You’d think that where each bit could not be so very large, it would be impossible to get so lost as he always seemed to get himself. But in fact, the lake city was like a maze – one he had yet to develop any real feel for. Nyka was set out on very straightforward lines – and you could always orient yourself based on the Aperture that bisected it, and the bridges that went from quarter to quarter. But Ravok – he could almost swear that the differeing pieces floated freely and moved about whilst he was asleep in his shabby room at the boarding house. Of course, he’d only been here for a few days – and though Ravok was no huge sprawling city, it certainly held enough that the street plan – make that, canal plan – would take a fair bit of time to learn. Joe, however, was impatient – mostly impatient with himself – and being constantly lost and heading down alleys that dead-ended at yet another petching canal was just grating on his nerves. Taking a breath, he sighed and turned about, heading back the way he had come. He was sure, at least, that he could make it back to the boarding house and start over. After a few minutes walking, he did in fact return to the large plaza – the Nitrozian Plaza, it was – apparently named after one of the leading families in the city. That was a funny idea to the Nykan – that mere families and not Alvina held sway over the economy here. And then a separate entity ran the city governance, and tied to it the policing force – and all in the name of the one god they held in such esteem. Quite a different system than back home, that was for sure. Standing on a corner, Joe took a moment to put fingers and thumb to chin, looking speculative, as he tried to recall what the two other guards had told him. They were all at their leisure at this point, having seen the caravan and its good safely to Ravok and now awaiting its owners to restock on whatever it was they’d be carrying back to Nyka. In the interim, the guards and other support staff of the endeavor were free to partake of whatever the city had to offer – with strict instructions to not run afoul of any of the powers that be or their minions, or face the consequences alone. Their employers would not take responsibility or action if any of them crossed a wrong line and got in trouble. And trouble was definitely not what Josiah Bent was looking for. A good time and something interesting to see and do was more in line with his desires at the moment. But for the life of him, he had thought he had carefully followed the route which the other two men had told him to take, in order to meet up with them at a bar they’d found and thought fairly highly of. This was another oddity to the Nykan – being able to step into a shop and buy food or drink whenever the urge arose, and if one had the cash for it, which he did, having been paid for the first leg of the journey. It was still a novel concept to one who had lived all his life with food of any kind being strictly controlled and doled out by the monks. With a puzzled frown, Joe looked again right, and then left, and wondered how in the hell he was going to find his mates…

[Ireth Telemnar]

Ireth had the ravosalaman drop her off at the Nitrozian Plaza this morning. She hadn't played her for a week or so, perhaps she'd make a bit of coin. It wasn't a bad day, weather wise. There were a few clouds, but they were light and fluffy in the brilliantly blue sky. Ravokian birds took to the sky, singing and calling over the sounds emitted by the people in the Plaza. Ireth liked the birds. Just like the lake, they reminded her of her father. She laughed to herself. What doesn't remind me of him? she thought bemusedly.

This Plaza was a light and airy place, filled with people, the market, the life of Ravok. There was Mr. Nicolo, laughing heartily with someone near his canal craft. And Tarsin's wife on her way to market. Shopkeepers called out to passerby, displaying goods and animals, foods and weapons.

Finding a fairly nice spot, with the sun overhead and a wall behind her, Ireth laid out her pretty little blue bowl, the one she used for the coin of passerby. Pulling her flute out of her pack, she lifted her face to the sky, soaking in the suns early-morning warmth. Taking a deep breath, she took the flute to her lips and let out a note, followed by another, launching her fingers into a slow and mournful melody.

[Josiah Bent]

As he mused, Joe was not really aware of the young woman who was setting up to play, no more than a few paces from where he stood pondering his next move. Not until she lifted the flute to her lips and began to play, that is, for at the sound of the sweet notes emanating from the instrument, his head turned towards the sound, and thus to her. There were any number of noises ebbing and flowing all about the plaza, but she was close enough, and the melody catchy enough, that the sounds of her music easily reached his ears. Well, it wasn’t a solution to his problem of trying to find his friends, but the tune was calming and provocative, and he liked it. Moving closer, he stood, listening, and surveyed the musician at the same time. She was small in stature, of a medium build – neither spindly nor buxom – and with long, golden hair and bright blue eyes whose lids seemed to reflect the mood of the song she played – they appeared half-closed in contemplation of the somewhat melancholy melody. Her delicate looking fingers floated above the stops, like fluttering doves, evoking a heartfelt sentiment with her cadence and pacing. Josiah watched, and listened, and approved, perhaps smiling a bit, simply at the pleasure the music brought. There were others who had paused too, a few, though most moved on after a few moments and no-one had yet to send a coin spinning in the blue bowl. The tune ended, and he thought he could at least remedy that. Withdrawing a silver from his belt, he stepped forward and let it drop, with a clink. Smiling, he lauded her talent. “That was quite beautiful. A pretty tune for a pretty day.” He might have added, from a pretty lass, but in this regard Josiah Bent was a bit backwards. Swords he knew – girls…not so much. He was, in a word, a bit shy, and was much more used to the rough company of men than the softer world of women. He paused, then, and made no further compliment, but thought to ask, “You are from here – from Ravok?” It seemed likely, though not pre-determined, and if she was a native, perhaps she’d be able to direct him to his target.

[Ireth Telemnar]

Not many things could get Ireth out of the little world she created for herself when she sang or played her flute. But when the sun glinted off of the stranger's silver, and his words registered with her that they were actually directed at her, she looked up. He had intense blue eyes that laughed in the summer sun, making her want to smile. She played the last of the notes to the melody and took the worn wooden flute from her lips.

She cocked her head to the side, half shielding her gaze from the sun and half taking in the stranger. He was tall, well, taller than she was anyway, but that wasn't saying much. His clothes were worn and dusty, something unusual for Ravok. Usually, if clothing was old here in her lake city, they smelled of mildew.

At his question, she dipped her head. "Yes sir, I've lived in this wondrous city my entire life. Why?"

[Josiah Bent]

The way that the girl looked at him, with her head tilted to the side in that way, put Joe in mind of a bird – a robin perhaps, or a cocky little sparrow, eyeing him up to see what he had in mind. But she answered readily enough, politely and pertly, and with obvious admiration for her place of origin. Joe was glad to hear that Ravok was her hometown, for that increased the likelihood that she’d know the place where he was trying to get to. “A wondrous city indeed,” he agreed, amiably, thinking it wouldn’t go amiss if he too showed some appreciation for her birthplace. “One that floats suspended on a lake is quite the marvel.” Truly, he had found the curious aspect of this city intriguing and then some. “And quite the warren of canals and bridges and alleys and avenues it is – such that I fear I keep losing myself, constantly.” He grinned ruefully at his own inability to keep a straight path. Nodding back over his shoulder, to at least one edifice that he recognized, he said, “I’m staying at the boarding house there, across the plaza. But I was to meet up with some friends of mine, at a tavern, in another part of the city. I’ve lost my way twice already, though.” He shook his head in self-deprecation as he added, almost more to himself, “I could have sworn I had the right of it. But somehow I keep ending up at the same bit of canal – and no bridge!” His grin turned to a chuckle. “I must seem the proverbial turnip that just fell off the wagon, but…I wonder…could you direct me? I’m seeking the Drowned Dog – I’m told the light ale there is spectacular. And I’ve managed to work up quite the thirst, by losing myself so much.” He gave the blonde headed maiden an affable look and hoped he seemed sincere, and not as if he was just chatting her up under some pretext.

[Ireth Telemnar]

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she listened to this stranger praise her city. She couldn't quite tell if he was serious, especially by calling himself a turnip, but nonetheless it made her laugh.

"The Drowned Dog? Pardon my amusement sir, but there is no such tavern in the Ravok I know. There's the Silver Sliver and the Spot, they're the best known. And there are some smaller holes-in-the-wall. But no Drowned Dog. Sorry."

She put her flute back to her lips before he could say a word. The green-stone eyes of the pigeon totem that graced the top of the flute made the bird seem ready to take off as Ireth put forth a cheery tune, the kind that made the city's children come and dance.

And, just as she knew, several small Ravokians found their way to the Plaza. They danced and jumped, making the adults around them laugh and clap. Some of the folk danced themselves, especially the younger women. They threw up their hands and called to each other, stamping in beat on the square. Pretty soon Ireth had most of the passerby happy, laughter filled the air. This was the Ravok she loved.

Just as a small boy came up with his drum to play alongside Ireth, she called out to the stranger nearby. "Come, be merry! Today is beautiful, this city is beautiful, and our songs will make you elated! Please?"

With that, she placed her flute in her pack and began singing an old Ravokian favorite, the Crows of Ravok. The boy played his drum well, and some of the folk joined Ireth in singing.

[Josiah Bent]

This girl was not the prettiest he had ever seen in his life. But the way she smiled – the way her blue eyes danced so merrily and the way her lips bowed upwards – as she laughed at his framing of his predicament – was certainly quite fetching. Josiah didn’t mind the laugh – in fact, he was glad that his request had brought it on. Far better to see that fresh, sunny face amused than to have earned a dour look and a scolding chastisement for bothering her at her work. Her reply, though, was far from amusing in itself, and Joe frowned in perplexity. The girl placed the flute back to her lips and thus it seemed she was through, and that there would be no arguing the point with her. But he was sure that the name was correct! Directions he might have gotten mixed up in his head – but a name like that? Surely neither bad hearing nor inattention could be responsible for creating such an unusual moniker for the pub he sought! He put his fingers and thumb back to his chin and rested his elbow in his other hand as he thought again about what his friends had said, a bell earlier in the day. Joe’s thoughtful frown was certainly out of place, juxtaposed against the gay tune that the maid was drawing forth from her flute. Several children scurried closer and were smiling and hopping about, with adults of varying ages gathering closer, drawn in by all the merriment. Soon enough, the visitor was distracted by all the leaping and clapping and he watched the kids as they bopped about, with even some of the younger adults joining in, already laughing at themselves and their boldness and just the pure spontaneity of it all. A child appeared with a drum to add to the beat, and suddenly the flute player had let her instrument drop from her lips and was inveigling him to join in. Joe’s eyes widened, and he took on the aspect of a startled rabbit, freezing up a bit, as if he would rush away but wasn’t eager to have the fox on his tail. Dancing and frolicking about was just not in the Nykan’s repertoire of skills. His city was, in a word, a bit dour, and such frivolity was rarely part of the citizens’ daily grind. And beyond that, Joe was awkward around the fairer sex and hadn’t ever put himself forth to mix and mingle in such a fulsome way with the ladies. So he hesitated a long moment, even as the young flautist was putting away her instrument and took up a song, being joined in short order by many of those who had stopped to listen to her play. Joe breathed a cautious sigh of relief, for the dancing seemed to be quieting down somewhat, and after a moment, his ears began to catch at the lyrics being voiced, and he determined that it was a patriotic song, and one of praise for this god of theirs. Well, he supposed each city was similar in its regard for something that they all held dear, or to whom they appealed to bestow favor on its inhabitants. The last two verses he found a bit…alarming. His eyes widened yet again, and he looked about at the comely girls and sweet children singing about burning foes and cleaning bones. He knew it was just a song, but…. His head swiveled back over his shoulder again, as he looked towards the boarding house and considered once more the efficacy of returning there and perhaps inquiring of others where this Drowned Dog might be. The song was drawing to a close and the crowd about him cheered and applauded, for their city, for the singing, and for the beauty of the day. Not having had the chance to thank the girl for at least answering his question – as best she could he supposed – he turned back to her and said, “Your singing is as lovely as your playing, miss.” His head turned to take in the crowd of Ravokians about them. “And your fellow citizens seem quite the lively crew. Well done.” His gaze returning to her, he finished with, “And my thanks for your reply earlier – though I’m quite puzzled by it. I’m sure my friends said the Drowned Dog…” There came a guffaw of a laugh from almost right behind him, interrupting him, and Joe spun about to see what the source of merriment was. There was a man – one of those who had stopped to listen to the musical interlude – and he had a huge grin on his red, beefy countenance. Hands on fat hips, he was laughing with high humor and he said in a loud voice, “The Drowned Dog? Why, lad, someone’s been pulling your leg, they have! Why that’s one of the oldest jests on the books – at least round these parts it is.” Josiah was looking both annoyed and totally confounded, having no idea whatsoever what the fellow was going on about. At his look, the man explained in a congenial voice. “Tis a jest that is often played on newcomers to the city – this telling of a fabulous tavern and the giving of directions that can only serve to get them hopelessly lost. Something of a wild goose chase, you see? Only here you’d be chasing after a drowned dog.” The man laughed again, apparently highly amused by the whole concept. With an irritated huff, Joe crossed his arms over his chest, with black thoughts for how he should greet his fellow guards the next time they crossed paths. He could see it now, for the two had been quite adamant that he join them, yet at the same time knowing he would be delayed behind them. And they had seemed quite merry about it all. So, the old hands playing a trick on the green guy – how exceptionally funny. But at least he had the courtesy to address the one who had debunked the mystery for him. “My thanks, sir, for setting me straight. Else I might have wandered about all day, chasing after this elusive establishment.” The man, for his part, seemed to find the entertainment value of the idea well worth his trouble and time and he nodded, and even reached to pat Joe’s shoulder consolingly. “You go round to the Silver Sliver, lad. That’s a good place to have a drink and it won’t go slippy sliding away from you when you seek it out.” He gave Joe a wink, and then moved off. Joe turned to the girl, who had stood by listening, and said, “Well, it seems you had the right of it.” He gave a small laugh, and shook his head. “I guess I’ll have a thing or two to say to my friends when next we meet.” Pausing, he hesitated but then asked, “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for directions to this other place – the Silver Sliver?” he pronounced the name carefully for it was a tongue twister. “As long as it doesn’t move about, I think I have some small chance of actually finding it.” The last he said with a grin, for it was too fine a day to stay mad and he didn’t wish to harbor an ill mood, when there was a whole city to explore yet.

[Ireth Telemnar]

Ireth felt so sorry for the traveler. That trick! She'd watched him while the people danced, he'd almost looked scared. She hadn't meant to upset him, it was just her place to play for the people.

"Even better, I'll take you there myself. One of the perks of being a street musician? I have no specific times. Just a moment."

Taking up her little blue bowl, heavier now as folk had added more coin in with the wanderer's silver, Ireth poured the mizas gently into her money purse. She took up her sack and packed her flute and bowl into it carefully, padded by her cloak.

"Alright, it's a bit of a walk. Are you sure you're up to it?" A smile lit up the stranger's face, so Ireth took his arm. But instead of leading him to a bridge or down a walk, she spun him around. She spun him around three times, holding him so he didn't get dizzy. It might have been childish, but she could tell that the traveler was ticked at his companions.

When she brought him to a stop, she had him facing some of the shops and things that encircled some of the Nitrozian Plaza. "There, do you see it? The Silver Sliver is just off of the Plaza."

And indeed it was. Not a particularly big place, the Silver Sliver Tavern was well known even beyond Ravok. Ireth had been there a few times, mostly for meals, though sometimes she wished to play there.

She walked the man to the tavern. "It's not a particularly difficult establishment to find, promise." Ireth smiled, happy to be helping the poor wanderer out. "And their light ale has got to be better than the Drowned Dog's."

[Josiah Bent]

Joe’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at the offer. He surely hadn’t expected the girl to leave off her performance and guide him to this new destination. But by now she was probably thinking him quite the half-wit, so it just went to show that she must have had a soft spot in her heart for the mentally challenged. His surprise, though, was matched by his pleasure at her kind suggestion that she lead him to the Silver Sliver, for he thought it might be a chance to chat up one of the locals and maybe get to know a bit more about her city. Besides, she was pretty and a talented musician and the day was a fine one, so…it seemed a good thing all the way around. But he still felt bound to make some mild protests, all of which she waved aside, as she gathered her things together. In reply to her inquiry, he nodded, saying brightly, “Lead on – I’m sure you can’t lose me, though I’ve proven very skilled at losing myself.” She actually reached to slip her hand around his arm and at that, he had to resist the impulse to look startled again. Accepting the gesture as one of simple amiability, he had opened his mouth to make some other jest when suddenly he felt her pulling him about. Caught off guard, he allowed her to twirl him about, saying, “This must be some strange local custom, right?” – though he laughed and thought surely she was just making a huge ass out of this ignorant foreigner. He went along with it though for he wasn’t particularly bothered by what people thought of him – even pretty girls. He’d found in his life so far that people whose good opinion he thought worth having were usually inclined to get to know him well enough to let him establish himself in their eyes as a young man who had a fairly good head on his shoulders. If this girl wanted to play a little game, well – who knew? It might lead to something more…or it might not. He was content to wait and see how it shook out. After three times around she released him, and he was facing almost the same direction as when he had begun. But as she spoke, he understood what a truly complete and utter fool he must look – for there, across the plaza, was the tavern. He shook his head in self-disparagement, but it seemed the girl was not bothered by his ignorance – not at all. She had begun to step in the direction of the Sliver, so he fell in beside her, chuckling. “Why yes, indeed, I do see – and I think I might just be able to get there without losing myself again.” He laughed, willing to make a joke at his own expense. “So, many thanks, for illuminating my path, my lady. Though I thought for a moment you were trying to clear the cobwebs from my head with your spinning me about.” As she seemed willing to walk with him, he added in a less joking tone, “And I hope you’ll let me repay you for your kindness and assistance – if not actually as guide, then at least for putting up with idiot tourists.” He gave her a friendly smile. “Seeing as my friends appear unlikely to be awaiting my arrival at the ghostly drowned dog, maybe I could prevail upon you to take a cup of ale with me? I’m already convinced that you’d be far, far better company then they, and I’ll warrant, now that I think about it, that perhaps they have inadvertently done me a favor, and I’ll be the one who has the last laugh here.”

[Ireth Telemnar]

Smiling, Ireth dropped her gaze and watched the tips of her boots as they walked toward the Sliver. "I'd be honored to join ya sir, though realize that you don't owe me nothin'. I didn't mean to make a fool of ya, promise."

The Silver Sliver, though pretty well known, was not a large establishment. But for some windows across the front facing the Nitrozian Plaza, no outside light lit the smoky air. Burly wooden tables lined with chairs and some with men stood on the floor of the tavern. The bar lined the furthest wall, the clink of glass and the slosh of drink filling the air like the light snakes of smoke from the pipes of the men. A few dim-glassed lanterns hung from the rafters.