Flashback The things I do when I'm broke. (Sigfrid)

[Torias]

47th Summer, 512 AV The cusp of sunset. Ahnatep is one of the more... interesting cities I have seen in my travels. The Eypharians are a lavish people, enjoying vanity as much as weaponry, beer, and power. They are not quick to forgive debts, so I recall from personal experience. One particular merchant made this very clear, gifting me with one of my closer brushes with death. I didn’t realize then that the loss of my arm would grant me a better appreciation for the four-armed body I would acquire in the future. There were few places in the Desert Jewel where Torias could find the luxury of feeling at ease. Thieves were thick in the worst way in the ruined parts of the city, where he had more or less chosen to reside. The Eypharians made it a point to let the Nuit know he was not well liked. Humans thought they had it bad. With better connections he could have afforded better lodging in a safe part of Ahnatep, but Torias’s aptitude for social relations was lost somewhere in the last ten years. The interpersonal workings of a city bored him severely; lately he was interested only in surviving, and that was often difficult enough on its own. To afford the steep rent of his hovel, Torias was forced to make do gathering herbs for his employer, a Dhani philterer. He hardly minded. The parched heat of the open desert was not as much of a bother to him as it was for someone who would require water and a cool place to rest. It gave him an opportunity to learn more about the ecology and flora of the Eyktolian desert, and he could keep extra herbs for his own practices. His fragile, rotting body still required protection from the scalding sun, just to ensure it didn’t rapidly fall apart out from underneath him. Every inch of his skin was covered, except for a break in his cowl that exposed his brown, human eyes. The risk of exposure discouraged bandits from wandering the open sands, minimizing Torias’s risk of running into unfriendly company. However, the smell of rot attracted some rather unsavory wildlife, but as long as he was moving, the buzzards would be polite enough to keep their distance. Certain cactus plants, the Dhani had told him, produced blue fruit which contained a nectar useful in curing hangovers. They were common in the patches of dry foliage found in scattered spots closer to the ocean’s edge. Torias was presently in the process of harvesting another, knelt in front of a squat, spiked plant and using his small knife to dislodge the round fruit from it's base. Possessing only a single arm, however, was making the process unduly complicated. “There.” The cactus stem snapped audibly, then released the fruit. Just to spite him however, it rolled off in the opposite direction and tumbled down into the dune to a clutch of white trees. “Zlynge.” Torias stood with a sigh, then patiently began to amble after it. The fruit was located quickly, but there were more things hiding in the sparse shade than the Nuit anticipated. It was a familiar, menacing shape. Torias wisely halted his approach. Unwisely, he called out to the creature. “Good afternoon.” A sideward glance to the sun. It would have been in his better welfare to make a quick exit. “Or evening, perhaps. Is there a chance I may retrieve that fruit unmolested?”

[Sigfrid]

In the Burning Lands, one often traveled by night to avoid the relentless gaze of Syna by day, but not she, a Zith flying low above the sands. The cover of dark fur gave some protection against the scalding light, but her wings were without and thus, suffered. Pink marred her black appendages, indicating burn, not that Nala was unaware of its stinging presence. She paused in her languid flight, dropping rather than landing as she kneeled in rest. When strength returned, she began to dig into the sand in search of cooler grains. Having repeated this procedure multiple times a day, Nala was quick to scoop up generous handfuls, patting them gently over her aching wings and throwing when she could not reach. She had seen a desert cow roll around in the sands and curious as she was, the Zith copied the odd behaviour of it and various other desert animals. It was what led her to discover the sands' current use as a makeshift shield against the sun. It was during this time that she noticed a structure and some trees in the distance, though with her sensitive eyes hindering her vision in the day, Nala could not pick out the details. Having grown excited over a trader's station in weeks past, she quickly lowered her expectations, shaking off the idea that Ahnatep was finally within reach. Instead, she undid and redid the knot beneath her neck, securing the head scarf above before rising to her feet. Unfolding sandy wings, the Zith took flight once more. Once Nala neared the sparse greenery, her heart leapt in relief. She was finally here, just outside the doorstep of the desert kingdom. Though every fibre in her being wished to cross the threshold, she knew better than to approach in the day. Like she, Syna was not too far from the end of her journey, and so she would wait it out. Though the nearby shade was sparse, Nala welcomed it with a sincerity that only those who have survived could understand. Grabbing her tent from a lightening pack, she flew up to carefully hang the thick fabric across two thorny branches, careful not to create new holes. Then, she took a seat against the trunk, the side opposite to the city and simply wrapped her wings around, trying to appear small. Less than a bell later, she was shaken from a daydream by a voice. Instinctively, Nala readied herself for flight, crimson eyes darting around in search of the source. It was a man, or at least, it was shaped like one. She growled softly in irritation, silently cursing Her presence. Not only did She blind her but burned her; the Zith was really beginning to dislike the goddess. "Keep away." A husky voice responded, throat rumbling with inhuman noises. Her wings spread to their full width, her form intent to intimidate. Scaring him off would be a lot easier than running, for she would need to find a new spot to wait out the day. She could only hope that he did not challenge her for her combat skills were sorely lacking, having relied heavily on the stealth and speed of her wings. "You have been warn-" Nala attempted to continue her ruse, but was interrupted by the dry texture of her throat. Coughing hoarsely, the Zith hunched, more so from surprise than the intensity. She did her best in fixing her gaze, but she faltered as she rushed to recover her composure. Weary from travel, Nala nearly lost her balance but managed to catch her knee with a clawed hand, feeling embarrassed and endangered by her current behaviour. Should the man advance a few more steps, he would be able to spot the sharp contrast between the burns and the colour of her wing.

[Neologism]

Torias
Note: Please pay your seasonal expense for Summer 513AV, then PM me for your grades.

Sigfrid
Skills:

Observation +1
Wilderness Survival +1

Lores:

Using sand to keep cool in the desert

Note: Don't forget to edit your post in the grading thread as 'Graded'.