Open Looking for the underworld

[Inayl]

3rd Summer 513 The sun was shining, her brilliant rays had enveloped the throbbing citadel and induced a trance-like bliss, a collective feeling of summer laziness. It was a day on which nothing should go wrong, a day on which the rich would rest, and the poor would labor, under a cruel and lashing heat. A day for Inayl; he hadn't slept well and woken up with a slight fever. ' No time to be sick, my knight.' he had thought. With his new handaxe safely tucked within his cloak, he entered the empty streets, in search of someone who could unite him with his knight. 'Soon, my knight. Very soon, in utter darkness, utter despair, I shall find you, adore you, embrace you! Just like you found me, gentle knight, ... I'm not afraid, not anymore: all thanks to you.' Inayl had been walking for hours, thinking of his brilliant knight, while being hardly able to keep his eyes open, due to a bashing headache, which had been sparidly appearing for the past few days. Just when he was on the verge of heading home, and calling it a day, he opened his eyes and paused in his tracks: he did not recognize the street he had taken, so plunged in thoughts. He smiled. The walls were dark, the houses uncared for and the streets looked older, dirtier than in any other part of Syliras. He was exactly where he wanted to be, the slums of Syliras. 'Gentle dark, abscess of Syliras, with its foul denizens. They intent to hurt me, my knight, they always do. I wonder: should we talk or chop of their fingers? You'd know, wouldn't you? If only I hadn't lost you... Not long now, and then -' Eyes had met, a prying look. He had stood there mindlessly, less than a minute, and already had he been seen by judging eyes, calculating his worth. He smiled, gently caressed the handaxe he had kept beneath his cloak, and took a single golden mizra, which he held out in front of him, while trying to supress a sudden urge to giggle. 'Hush, my knight, I won't be able to find you otherwise, will I? Summoners, information, thieves and robbers, all will do... And else, I'll just chop of some heads. That's what I do, isnt it?'

[Septimus]

Another day of patrolling and another day of training. That's how it was for Septimus or so it seemed. Thought it didn't feel ridiculously hot, under her light load of armor, it felt hot enough. She would get used to it soon enough, however, as she always somehow adjusted to reasonable conditions.

With this, she often found herself wandering around Syliras to patrol. She would stop in an area to catch rest and watch then when that got boring she would move on to another location. Simple as that, right? Not precisely. She would occasionally find something to catch her eye and she would eventually enter a state where she would end up trying to eavesdrop. If she heard nothing out of the norm, she would then proceed to move along.

The blaring sun was beating down upon the city and its occupants but in a way that provoked sleepiness. How that was even possible, Septimus had no clue. It was apparent that the start of summer was beginning to slow some citizens down. Septimus was not one of these citizens. Despite this, however, it always seemed like the rapid moving ones caught her attention. These and the ones that were practically stopped.

It was also, of course, not uncommon to have a set of eyes lock onto her own. She, herself, stood out to a lot of people. She was a six and a half foot tall female that appeared to otherwise be 'normal'. Closer examination would reveal that her shifty eyes examined almost everything. The slightest noise would cause her to turn her head when any other 'normal' person would more than likely not even pick up on it.

When her eyes locked onto a strange subject, their eyes both met. Septimus averted her eyes away but felt the presence of his continue to look. With that, she couldn't suppress the urge to look once more. With this, the male looked down with a smile that Septimus couldn't quite define. Only for the male to then put his hand inside his cloak. The possibilities of why were endless but Septimus' fingers caressed the hilt of her broadsword, visions of her shield flashing in her mind.

However, he seemed lost. Though suspicion was in her head, so was being helpful. Never would she as a rising Knight deny help to someone residing in Syliras lest it be a simply outrageous request. Outrageous by her own definitions, as well. She wasn't foolish and she certainly wasn't naive.

"You appear to be lost. May I be of any assistance? "

"Talk"

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus was trying to beat the heat. Ninus looked up at the burning orb, cursing it silently. Even his own pet, Cricet, was huddled in his shadow. She was a giant rat roughly fourteen pounds in weight, and currently had her head tucked up against his trousers. She bruxed at him, working her teeth over one another in the rat version of a purr. They had to get out of the heat somehow. The poisoner had taken efforts to keep his molds and fungus clean and wet, and his plants watered heavily in the heat of the day. It had only concentrated in his small apartment in Traveler's Row. Now he stood in the shadow of a building, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sweat soaking through his shirt. He was a skinny thing, his black hair plastered against his forehead, aquiline nose flaring in the heat. His fingers, long and spindly, were stained from working with poisons. After all, being a poisoner had its downside. He blinked his black eyes at the street, where a knight was conversing with a skinny young man who looked very lost. Ninus shifted. He hated knights. They were nosy, annoying, and stuck their noses in his business. As part of the very quiet underground of Syliras, he provided a vengeful populace with the poisons needed to take revenge on cheating husbands, assassination targets, and competitive merchants. He felt Cricet rest her large head against the side of his knee, gazing at the two strangers. Ninus moved back into the darkness a little, trying to keep himself and the small group of rats around his feet in the shade. Many of the creatures were panting heavily. "The sun is the only true god. It punishes all without discrimination or remorse, and only the serpents enjoy its embrace." he told them. "But this god only has power during the day. By night's arrival, our respite will come, worry not."

[Inayl]

The sun was still burning in her sky, unleashing waves of heat, and enveloping the citadel of Syliras in her tiring grasp. Doing so, she had managed to empty most streets, leaving them freely for the curious and needy of mind. In one of these suffocating streets Inayl continued to look at the woman. She was tall, tall and strong, and her voice had sounded warm, warm and caring. He clutched his fist beneath his cloak. He had misjudged her: he had seen the woman, walking through the Sylirian slums, and expected her to be some sort of mercenary, someone who would be willing to do just about anything for a couple of Golden Mizras. But now her voice had sounded genuinly kind and so his first impression had been mistaken; no denizen of the slums would look at him with laudable intentions, nor would they have spoken so freely, indifferent of potential eavesdroppers. Yet he still needed information, information on the other worlds, the realms only summoners know of, to find his knight. Would she be willing to help him? Most likely not, not here, in this city which frowned upon them, and the things they commanded. Upon closer inspection she even had something of a sylirian knight, not that he cared for them or how they dressed, they were nothing like his knight and only he mattered to Inayl. 'I'm looking for a summoner, miss, I want to ask him something...' he had spoken anxiously while nervously stroking his elbow, as a scared kid who seeked advice from a trusted adult, and had chosen his words carefully: her reaction would tell him more than enough, and if she turned out to be a knight, he should still be able to talk his way out of this. 'My knight, kind and gentle knight, can you see me? Can you see what I'm doing to find you... Will you come, and dance, and jump and care; you do care, don't you?' already lost in thoughts, he waited for the woman to answer, waited for the her to make her move.

[Septimus]

The boy's behavior appeared awfully skittish and Septimus could definitely tell without even noticing. His facial features, the hesitation, it all came to her brain and registered as anxious and careful. It was much like a horse would behave around a snake not too far away and she would know precisely how that was. She made absolutely no sign that she had realized this, however, and instead retained her warm and understanding smile. She took a few steps over and stood a good yard or so beside him.

However, he spoke of a summoner and Septimus' eyes flashed slightly, still maintaining that warm and friendly smile. She chuckled then widened her eyes slightly "I do believe you are strictly in the wrong city, my friend. Absolutely no summoners will be found along these walls and if there are there is to be absolutely no summoning going on. Otherwise, they will be punished accordingly. It is extremely frowned upon for the... misfortunate events that tend to occur after it, if you understand what I am getting at."

Septimus didn't know much about summoning, but after those damned bone dogs had invaded Riverfall after being summoned, she knew enough. It could and would destroy people. It's capabilities were absolutely dangerous to civilians and even an attempt to summon could be hijacked. People could definitely be taken advantage of, as well.

"I'm Septimus." She held out her left hand gingerly to offer a handshake. This was if he got any ideas she could use her more favored hand to withdraw her broadsword. She didn't suspect him to try anything, however. Afterall, it would not be a wise move in the slightest.

"Perhaps may I ask why you were looking for a summoner?" She maintained her warm and friendly aura and facial features. The more information she could leech out of him, the more she would be able to tell if he was to be classified as a threat or not. So far, it was unlikely. As Septimus had learnt, the direction of things could change within a split second.

Movement caught her sapphire eyes and the averted from the young male to another not too far down the street. Her sensitive ears could tell that he was talking but to whom? Himself? Closer examination proved movement around his feet that were mice. Large mice at that. She quickly darted her eyes back to the individual before her.

"Talk"

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus could sense the problems the boy had swirling around him. He felt some odd sort of protective nature, to keep the poor mad thing away from the knights as he had been taught to avoid them in his youth. He knew the rats would not appreciate him moving their shade, least of all Cricet. He clicked to her and she crawled up his back unhappily, settling on the back of his shoulders. She nipped his neck unhappily, wishing he would go find a fountain and lay in it. But her master seemed drawn by the mad little creature across the way. She didn't want him to go over there. The knights would look down upon a poisoner. But Ninus stepped out of the shade anyway, leaving his subjects to scurry back into the shade and pant. Cricet was the only one mad enough to venture out into the heat with him. Ninus still kept his distance, circling a bit like a dog around the pair, his ears straining to hear. The boy was looking for a summoner, and the knight had rebuffed him. Of course, the knights disliked summoning. "Those who dress in plate and name themselves honor have no love for the summoners. For summoners are unpredictable, they give themselves to the wild magic." Ninus said as he approached the pair. "No true knights will you find in this place, for true knights wear not plate armor and arrogance. They clothe themselves in humility and live amongst squalor, that their deeds might outshine their thirst for blood. Nay, no axe nor blade shall ye find amongst these knights of the filth. They are truly wise in this heat, as only a fool would strap a skillet to himself in the desert sun and cook his flesh for the gods. Who is it you seek, a true knight, some savior who sought not pay nor grovel?" The prince of rats didn't look at the knight, but Cricet shrank from her. She knew it was unwise to blatantly antagonize the knights...this was their territory. But her master's hatred of them apparently overrode his sense of caution in his need to help the boy.

[Inayl]

He had guessed correctly: the woman was no criminal. She had merely spoken to him out of kindness and genuine care. She disliked summoners, as was to be expected, and had friendly asked him to explain his search. He wouldn't though, he had already seen it once, how friendliness could mask cruelty. Yet as he opened his mouth to tell her a quickly invented, albeit not that convincing story , about how his friends had told him that there was a summoner living in this part of Syliras and he had decided to go out and search him; the man had appeared, a true denizen of the slums. With a rat on his shoulders, he had approached them and talked about knights, his knight. It had made Inayl quiver in excitement, and he had smiled intently, but quickly re-assumed his anxious, childish behaviour: the woman was still there, and Inayl knew that her suspicion could be fatal to the plans he had in mind. His mind started spinning, thinking of a way to express his interest in this newly-arrived guest, while simultaneously dowsing any distrust the woman might hold. Should he stick to his story and try hinting the man of his true intentions? He considered it for a second, but in the end... any criminal would be able to help him, while it would only take the suspicion of one woman, who could even be a knight as the man had insinuated, to quickly put his plans at an end. 'It's nothing really... my friends, they told about some summoner, a scary old man who lives in these streets. And I wanted to go look for him, because I didn't really believe them. But Dren said he had seen him, so I wasn't really sure...'Once again he had tried to sound anxious and uncertain, doing his best to avoid the woman's suspicion. He laughed; the man he had looked for, someone who would be able to help him, was standing right in front of him, and he couldn't even open his mouth, without giving himself away to the woman, who was still standing next to him. 'Knight, caring knight, can you see the Gods at work; but which move was theirs? Both on my path, yet one might help, the other ruin... all the things I have in mind. If only you'd be here, you'd know... You'd always know.' His mind adrift, he starting giggling anxiously, waiting for threads of fate to unfurl.

[Septimus]

The way the man walked over and talked of the Knights made her warm smile fade into a frown. Her bright and warm eyes hardened into an icy cold abyss of sapphire blue. Her eyebrows drew together slightly and her eyes narrowed. Whom did this individual think he was? And where did this individual think he was? She glared at the man, then resumed her warm facial features and tone towards the boy.

"I am afraid that your friend is wrong, young boy. But I can assure you, that this will be investigated." She wouldn't dare give him a chance at hoping there was a summoner around. She simply would not dare allow such a chance with this happening. After she gave him a nod and flashed a warm smile, she stood to her full height to address this arrogant prick.

"I do believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinions, but I do not believe that arrogant pricks may go around and speak shyke about something they apparently know nothing about. Sound about right to you? Of course not. Cocky no-nothings always believe they are right."

She huffed, anger boiling. She must control it and she knew this. She wasn't done yet, however. She would die for the Knights and wouldn't dare let someone talk of them like scum.

"No one here names themselves 'honor' figuratively or literally. We have no tolerance for summoners because of the damage that can easily be done. That the Knights and Squires both must pick up and clean up after. In case you haven't noticed, we're not some damn clean up crew. You will only find true Knights here for we are the only ones that fight to rebuild, fight for valor and honor, and believe in dexterity. True Knights do not have to wear plate armor and very few are arrogant, unlike you. No Knight thirsts for sheer blood, but rather for retribution if that is what you are referring to. And as for those that live in squalor, we offer a home in our ranks. Not only that, but no wonder they will not be successful if they do not work for what they want for nothing is given, it must be earned. No one I know seeks pay or grovel besides those that simply ask for it in the physical shape of a beating."

Septimus backed up and crossed her arms "Oh, and we don't bake ourselves for anyone. It's for protection, hence the word armor." She was done with the rude brute, and much like summoning, no longer had tolerance for him. She ignored him, and shook him out of her mind.

With that, her stone hard glare turned into a warm and welcoming gaze once more. A smile appeared once more, and she then looked at the boy. "On a lighter note, why don't we get you out of here? I don't believe Dren would be happy if his friend got in trouble, would he?" She was highly suspicious and one offensive move from any of the two would result in both her shield and broadsword in her hands within seconds.

"Talk"

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus looked at the knight. "Like a snake rearing back. How easily anger wells up in you. Anyone not agreeing with the shield is arrogant, and deserving of scorn. Oh how one treats the least of these." he smirked, and looked to the nervous looking boy. "One cannot find a savior in the knights, they view themselves as gods and police. Gods who shed blood on those who disapprove of their laws and rules. Gods who would sooner cast out a man than help him. A city of lions, every one of them hungry. One only has to step in this jungle to realize it." He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers against Cricet's cheek. "One can only find a man in the underworld. Things that the knights know nothing about. What do creatures who don metal and fight with metal know of things that crawl in the dark? Of true humanity? Of the struggles a man has to go through to live. They sit in their barracks, swill ale and improve their grips on a broadsword, dreaming of the day a true monster comes to attack to validate their existences." Ninus said to the boy. "If one needs to find me, one is able. Ask the rats, they know more than anyone. More than someone who dons metal in the heat, armoured against common street rabble and ignoring the burning god in the sky." Ninus heard Cricet's panting against his ear. "My lady. I apologize, I forgot your suffering." he apologized to her. She nibbled his ear in response.

[Inayl]

Oh how lucky he had been, to find both a knight and a denizen of the slums, on the exact same day. Although it would have been easier to have met them at seperate locations, Inayl didnt really mind: the man would be able to help him and In the end, the woman could still be of use to him, if only to escort him out of this rat-infested blight. 'Look at the gods, can you see their love, my knight? Their will, as unbreakable as ours... as our passion, our everlasting bond. But hush, my knight, don't pout your iron lips, the Gods may perish for all I care, all I care for ... just you, my knight. Be silent now, as you always are, ever quiet, my silent knight, don't let the piercing eyes, pierce through your soul...' He had trembled as the man had spoken of a way to find him, ask for his help. And Inayl would do so, but not now, because of the woman: she was still their and he could feel her hate for the madish man, something he would not dare take upon himself. 'Thank you, miss,' he eyed the man anxiously, trying to look a tad disturbed by his presence, and quickly turned his head to the woman once more: ' I didn't really believe those stories, I'm not a baby, but Dren, he saw - It's nothing really ... Could you perhaps... I'm sorry to ask, miss, help me get out of here: I don't exactly know where I am... and I don't wanna get lost, miss. It would upset mom and dad.' He had felt his arm tension, clutching the handaxe he had tucked beneath his cloak; the thought of his parents, the people who sold him to that man, had disgusted him, but it had sounded so childish, and that was exactly the thing he'd needed. He continued to look at the woman now, and tried to avoid the man's piercing gaze. She would help him, he was sure of that. But did she really trust him, did she really believe the story he'd told? He doubted it: he had seen how the worst of people could pretend to care, pretend to be friendly, until they struck, like the venomous vipers they were.