That Vine Is Mine! [Inoadar]

[Vanari]

Vanari kept her gaze steady. "I'm an excellent swimmer," she lied, blowing some dust from her fingernails. "No need to worry about me." The Vantha then plopped back down onto the planks and stuck her legs through the rails, her bundle--or, supposedly his bundle--of vines gripped firmly in her hands but still protruding through the ferry. She was keen on not dropping them, but even less keen on getting shot while her attention was elsewhere. Better a little risky than all dead, as she often liked to say. "I don't need money," Vanari replied flatly, peeved that he ignored her last question, and that his tone seemed only to get more grating as it did falsely courteous. Then again, this was Ravok, right? "And I don't need much. It's just a gift, as I've mentioned. Nothing fancy, meant only for one person and no more. As for serums and philters..." The girl heaved a sigh, blowing an errant curl from her forehead. From the depths of her numerous pockets, she procured the small, wrinkled piece of brown paper, stared at it for a tick, then held it out for the man to see--if he cared to see it, anyway. She wiggled it around for a bit, urging him to take it, eyes glued to his arms should he decide to try and prove a point. "Beats me. It was sold to me on the premise that it was made by women, for women. Most of the ingredients look harmless enough, but I have no idea what I need Halbriar for." The recipe was written neatly, but the paper itself was so wrinkled the words were hard to make out: "The instructions look easy enough. It's that first sentence, 'Produce essence from herbs' that stumps me. I'm no perfumist, so I've got about zero clues as to what that could even possibly mean." She rubbed her chin, staring out onto the gloomy lake. The man claimed he dealt with toxins and, presumably, poisons as well. Mixing perfumes and mixing poisons--couldn't be that horribly different right? The girl was just about to voice this concern aloud, when she realized with a hint of guilt that she had no knowledge of what to address him as. "Ah, but look at me, getting into business before I've even properly introduced myself. Where have my manners gone?" She squinted up at him against the afternoon sun, wary of offering her hand after his previous comments. "The name's Vanari, but you can call me Ari. And who do I have to thank for such a merry chase in the woods, and for such generously promised aid in this little endeavor of mine?" She reconsidered offering her hand, thought better of it, and instead tried to transform her squint into something as least off-putting as she could muster.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar could not suppress a scowl as he puzzled over the recipe "Ari" had handed him. "Made by women...for women...no wonder it doesn't make any sense." he muttered, figuring this was going to become a major chore. he turned to her with a sigh.

"Look, last I heard, Halbriar is a fertility...drug...herb...I don't know. It's certainly nothing I work with. I use stuff like those vines! Stuff that is NOT healthy, stuff that Is NOT "harmless". I think it's a tree of some sort. And this is only because I heard a couple of women gigging about it when they came out of some arboreal class in herbalism, but that could mean an aphrodisiac as well." he said the word "giggling" with an air of disgust.

He read further and then looked incredulously at Ari. "Easy? this bunch of nonsense. Vayt's Teeth! the only part that DOES make sense is the first part! That's a simple process, though it depends on the type of herb it is to decide which exact approach you'd use. I assume where it says "pure oils: essential, floral and infused" refers to the follow up listings of some of the items. Where it lists 'Halbriar' as "essential" is easy enough, But you have to make assumptions about the others."

He repositioned himself in a more aggressive pose as he readied his onslaught of logic. "Like the "pure oils: floral", okay, I suppose that means the 'Rose Hips', but I don't know what 'Aletrid' or 'Kiv' are. Are they "floral"? And what the petch are "top", "middle" and "bridge" supposed to refer to? Then there's the "infused" bit. That has more than one meaning, you know. And the only one I know is just a colorful way of saying 'give inspiration' or something like that. Like "he was "infused" with the spirit of adventure". The other one is some philtering term and I don't know it."

He leaned back, satisfied that he had talked her out of it. But his conviction sagged as he saw that iconic look of over-sensitive stubbornness on her face. 'Great! She's taking my reasoning as an insulting personal attack on her.' he grumbled, his eyes rolling involuntarily as they found their way back to the vines, hanging precariously over the water. He knew he was NOT an excellent swimmer.

Look, I can make you something else for those vines. Just don't drop them, okay? Not everything I make is toxic." he wracked his brain trying to think of something that wasn't, coming at last to "Intellect Mist". 'No, she'll probably think I'm calling her stupid if I suggest that. "Oh, so I need something to make my brain work, eh?" Splash go the vines...'

He sat back, "Look I'll try, if you're that determined, but I'm not paying for all the mistakes I'm sure to make, Plus which, all my equipment has long since been inundated with toxic serums and fluids. I clean them thoroughly when I'm finished, but I also label them with what they've been used for, because IF they retain any residue, I don't want to mix and stack residues. If I make a batch of Greenblood Oil in one beaker, I use that same beaker for the next batch of Greenblood Oil. And I don't feel like buying more beakers for a one-time experiment like this...And by the way, my name is Nolan."

[Vanari]

Vanari stared at the man like he might be showing signs of sprouting an extra head. She couldn't decide if he was some sort of know-it-all, egomaniac for dumping so much information on her all at once, or if he was slightly insane. Probably both. "Well, Nolan," she responded in the wake of his onslaught of words, her overemphasis suggesting something other than unquestioning gullibility. He sure as shyke didn't look like a Nolan. The name sounded too unassuming, too mundane, too harmless. Not, of course, that it ultimately mattered. She needed to see the mystery gift to its completion. He had the means to help. And she had something he sorely needed, dangling one wrong move away from being lost forever in the murky lake. Having already gotten thus far in the recipe's making she was hard pressed to give up, and this man claimed he could easily solve the only part of it that made no sense to her. What would be the point in questioning something as extraneous as a name? "Seeing as how our entire world is kind of in a state of desperate healing--thank the gods neither of us are Akalaks--one would find Halbriar to be rather important in the scheme of things, don't you think?" Vanari retorted as calmly as she could, her indignation pitted against better judgment tooth for tooth. "But your main concern will just be getting those pesky essences. I got the rest, no need to fret. Shyke, I'll even gift you a new beaker or two if you feel it that necessary. I've got to get a pretty perfume jar anyway...perhaps I can pick up a couple beakers while I'm at it, assuming you don't mind making a few stops before we dive back into the city." The Vantha rubbed her chin, calculating roughly how much she could get done in one trip. "Plus, I have Aletrid and Kiv--enough for more than a few botch ups. And as for the Halbriar...well, I'm going to beat it out of a certain someone I know as soon as we dock. That just about covers it, right?" She readjusted her makeshift bag, drawing it closer to her lap. The ferry was about to dock at last, and she didn't want to lose the vines to any unfortunate surprises. Last time she had taken the ferry home, the captain himself had fallen asleep during the mind-numbingly dull ride and several passengers nearly fell overboard from the impact of the vessel slamming to the wooden docks. Gods, how she hated ferries. "Maybe it's on account of me being female an all," Vanari said after a brief pause, "but the levels of scents in perfumes is kind of a given. Top, middle, bottom, and bridge merely refer to the order that the scents hit you or linger. I hear hawkers shouting that stuff at me all day long, and the noblewoman chatter about it incessantly. Really, it's kind of hard not to know." Sooner than expected, the captain was hollering their arrival and slaves rushed forward to help tie down the ferry. She stood up with a groan, stretching her tired limbs and fingers. The vines were now safely withdrawn from the threat of hungry waters, but she still made sure to stay at least seven or eight spans away from Nolan. Who knew what kinds of tricks he might have up his sleeves? "Well, dearest Master Poisoner. Lead the way!"

[Inoadar]

He settled down a little at the sound of words that DID make sense to him. "...as for the Halbriar...well, I'm going to beat it out of a certain someone I know as soon as we dock..." Now there was something he could relate to. He suppressed his frustration. It just figured she had most of his concerns covered.

She babbled about some irrelevant connection between this "Halbriar" and Akalaks. The only thing he knew, or cared to know, about Akalaks was that they were reliable subjects to bet on in The Pits. He'd had to rig a fight with poison once to allow even one of those multiple armed wierdos to beat one. And he cared even less about perfume! It was an actual physical strain to stop himself from mocking her words "pretty perfume jar". As it was to avoid a sarcastic comment about how much 'I just love making extra stops to accommodate someone who stole my vines from me, before I get back, only to accommodate her further with a bunch of "Nancy Boy" crap before I can resume my own work!

But Ariella came back to mind, and how he needed to show his valuable Kelvic assistant what a kindly master he was. So that when she saw some of the darker things he was required to do, she would want to tell herself it was an unavoidable, necessary evil, and not a reason to slip back into the wild at the first opportunity. He repressed his annoyance and brought a smile of tolerant resignation to his face.

"Well, I guess I can hardly say 'no' to such a generous offer. If you have all the other ingredients, then a little processing shouldn't be such a chore. But it sounds to me like you've just realized that Halbriar isn't what you want." he raised his eyebrows and continued in a conspiratorial tone, "So if you need to beat something else out of someone as soon as we dock, I'll be glad to help with that as well!"

He gave a mild scowl at her suggestion that he must be some sort of fool for not knowing perfume terminology. "It IS hard to know when you don't associate with fops, dandies and powdered women. I go into the wild to search for herbs and such and would rather not be smelled for miles around because of my penchant for wearing strong bouquets. If anything, I'm going to douse myself with swamp water, so I fit in and don't draw the attention of wolves."

They finished their ride back to Ravok and she stood and stretched, groaning and flexing to work out the kinks as she took a pose enabling her to safeguard the vines from his reach. He rolled his eyes as she made a point of keeping distance between them after asking him to take the lead. What would she do if he stepped off the vessel and then stopped? Stay on board rather than come near enough to him to disembark? "Would you stop with the "safe distance" crap already? If I was only pretending to listen, to lull you into a false sense of security, a few steps of space is not going to save you."[color] he looked around, [color=#FFFFFF]"Okay, so who are 'beating the Halbriar' out of?"

[Vanari]

Vanari made a face at his comment about keeping her distance. What was she supposed to do, walk ahead of him with her back all nice and turned so he could shoot her at point blank and make off with the only leverage she had over him? She was tempted to stick out her tongue as well, but didn't. "Well, now that you mention it, maybe I really don't need Halbriar anymore, and perhaps she would have that handy dandy alternative she had so kindly informed me of. Yes, a she. A little old lady. Let us go forth and beat her till she surrenders this mystery herb, shall we?" Trusting Nolan not to make any of her recent fantasies come true, Vanari skirted around his darkly clad figure and led the way towards the Bazaar. Sure enough, the fool of a hag still had her little caravan parked in the same spot Vanari had found it in earlier that day, her shrill voice cutting through the market din like a knife to butter. No doubt the wrinkly old thing had believed the Vantha dead already for having been gullible and foolhardy enough to go chasing after a mystery plant in the less than friendly Lakeshore woods. Well, she was alive and well, and now in cahoots with someone even less pleasant than her present, prickly wrath. "Git, boy! Or I swear by all the gods I will flay you alive if you don't get everything unpacked by sunset!" Vanari could recognize that horrid voice from anywhere. She gave Nolan a look, jerking her chin towards the caravan, and strode up to what she assumed would be an unsavory scene of typical abuse and exploitation between mistress and slave. What she got instead was something far worse. The young boy--Benji, she recalled--was weeping silently as he struggled to drag a heavy box from the caravan to their temporary stall. His face was covered in bruises, and so was his naked back, which now bore new marks of a cruel whip. They had to all be fresh; he had none this morning when she'd last seen him. And then he turned, and Vanari realized with a gasp that she'd been wrong all along. Benji was no boy. She was a girl, and she had been whipped so hard the fabric of her shirt had ripped open, revealing the evidence as clear as day. The girl met the Vantha's horrified gaze, and suddenly she seemed smaller and more frail than ever. She clutched at the ruined tatters of her shirt and her eyes darted left and right, as though she were some cornered animal trying to find a way to escape, and she barely was able to whisper the words, "You shouldn't have come back." It was then that the old crone's voice burst in renewed fury, approaching closer and closer until it finally reached its pitiful target. For a moment, no one moved, only stared in wide-eyed shock as each connected their own dots of realization. Without thinking, Vanari snapped out of her statis, stepped around the shaking girl, and socked the old woman right in the face. Benji gasped behind her, but made no move to aid her mistress. Somewhere shoved hastily away in the back of her mind, Vanari's conscience cringed. An old woman! You just punched an old woman! But another, more ruthless part gleefully cheered her on, rooting for no mercy, less thinking, more beating! It took a moment for the Vantha to realize one very crucial fact. That, when her fist had made contact with the old crone's face, it felt incredibly...unsettling. The jaw was too solid, for one, and it felt hairy. A jolt of recognition sparked in her mind and she grabbed at the woman's wrinkled arm, pushing up the sleeves as she did. The hag struggled violently, having recovered remarkably fast for someone her age, but Vanari was bigger and stronger. "Aha!" she cried, moving slightly so Nolan could see what she found. It was the telltale inverted triangle of Ionu's mark, perfectly smooth on the crone's imperfectly wrinkled skin. "Tsk, tsk. What a stupid, clumsy mistake. Shoulda thought to hide such a dead giveaway, you cheap old bastard. Now, drop that idiotic glamour, before my new acquaintance here decides to save himself a bit of time and do it for you. With an arrow through your head. Busy man, you understand." "Alright, alright!" the old hag squealed like a pig to slaughter. Except, within a few ticks, he was an old hag no more, but a small, pot-bellied, unshaven man with an oily face and beady little eyes. "Petch, let go of me! What do you even want? I gave you what you asked for!" "I didn't ask to get sent to a convenient death out there in the woods, looking for some made up plant," Vanari seethed, gripping his arm even tighter. The man howled his indignation, gibbering about this and that and making no sense whatsoever. She sighed, turned to Nolan, and quirked an eyebrow. "Got anyway to make him stop whining and talk sense? Cause if you do, he's all yours."

OOC :

if you decide to step in, it's safe to assume Vanari let's go of him ^_^ let the good times begin!

[Inoadar]

Inoadar had to admit, this little bit of street theater was genuinely amusing, though once he saw that the little boy was a really a girl, it became less so. Then surged in near hilarity when this "Ari" girl socked the old bag in the kisser.

He didn't quite understand Ari's seeming puzzlement and hesitation after the fact though. It was clearly time to press her advantage. If there was going to be a fight, she best be abut it while her opponent was off balance. He wasn't going to help in such a case though. He told himself that real men didn't go around punching old women....

Amolina's face came unbidden to his awareness. 'Not the same. She's not old, and I never hit her...I...just threatened to skin her and decapitate her...and poisoned her...but that wasn't my fault, she was robbing my shop!...then forced her to face a crazy wizard and nearly got her incinerated...okay, then I would have strangled her, but the Stryfe interfered. And the only time I hit her, I was delirious.'

And Sharine's terrified face as she was forced to trust him. 'Again, not the same...I made sure that was painless...come on, I was being paid! I had to get a new body for that Nuit. It was a job! take it up with Bohir at The Spot!' He wasn't sure who he thought he was rationalizing with, but he went on.

'And those girls in The second Edict...Self inflicted punishment was what that place was all about! I was only...letting them...be sure of their...decision to quit. If I hadn't beat them so bad, they might have thought they were cut out for that. They needed to know how far they'd have to go to be truly worthy...It was all that Elder's fault that they thought they didn't need to go that far...he always kept me from...helping them...reach their full potential...It was all HIS fault!

And Cawleena, the Kelvic girl he tortured at the KRI. 'That was also a job from the Spot. And I never hit her. I just...disfigured her...with Hag's Mask poison. It wears off! She just didn't know that. And of course I couldn't tell her...Then she wouldn't have talked!'

A parade of women flashed through his mind...mothers, daughters, wives...all victims, yet not a one subjected to his actual fists. At least, not without some kind of justification. It was more that he spared them a brutal beating death in favor of a quicker, more insidious death by poison or slit jugular. No, a real man doesn't hit women.

He was pulled from his reverie by the sudden display of a strange symbol he didn't recognize. He knew what a 'glamour' was however. And he recognized the sight shimmer in the air as it dissipated to reveal a classically short, fat, hairy and greasy little grub of a man, squealing and whining his case like there was someone that cared within earshot.

Then the further ramifications hit him. This "man" had been beating this little girl. Obviously several times. His eyes narrowed dangerously of their own accord, and his fingertips pressed instinctively into the palms of his hands as he stepped forward, motivated by a need to assuage his guilt with justification and denial. "Real men don't hit women, you pig! And I...can't even think of a word for the class of scum that beats up little girls..."

A knife appeared in his hand as if it suddenly grew there, and his voice suddenly became oddly calm, which was somehow even worse. "I'll tell you what. I'll be fair...Men don't hit little girls...so I'll let this go...the minute you stop being a man." his hand shot like a snake to grab the buckle of the man's trousers.

[Vanari]

She let go as soon as the knife appeared in Nolan's hand, just in time to back away in morbid fascination as he grabbed the fat man's trousers. Was he really going to do it? How much would it hurt? Would there be a massive amount of blood? Ah, shyke. Benji was still here... But her curiosity was let down as the man's squeals reached an all time high and he began making sense at last. Figures. Just the thing a con would do, gip her at the very last second. "A-alright, alright! You can have it, all of it, just stop. P-please! Don't do it! Here, it's all here, just take it!" He pointed at the heavy box beside him that the girl had been trying to lug, his beady eyes still glued in fear to Nolan's knife. Vanari slid him a dubious glare, then flipped open the lid, making sure not to stand directly above the box. When it opened, a mixture of fragrant and herbal scents wafted up into the air. Taking this as a good sign, the Vantha inched forward and peeked inside. There were innumerable little pouches, boxes, and jars. "I-It's in the green pouches. Yeah, those." Vanari squinted at a light, green pouch she held up between her fingers. There were at least eight or ten of said pouches stuffed neatly inside the chest. "All of these green pouches? You're telling me, you had this much Halbriar all along and you still made me go out on a near-fatal goose chase? Why I oughta--" "No, no, no! You don't understand, these aren't Halbriar, they're what I told you about. The alternatives. They, um, weren't ready this morning, I had to dry them..." She didn't wait to hear what he had to babble about next. Vanari took two of each pouch, jar, and box and stuffed them all into her bag. Then, she closed the lid and heaved the entire chest right onto the man's rotund belly. Bug-eyed and aghast, the man tried to protest this outright theft and abuse, but he couldn't, what with his wheezing and all. "Thanks, pal. Oh, and Benji." The girl flinched when Vanari turned to address her, as though expecting to be struck. She didn't answer, only stared with open terror and confusion. "You know if you have any perfume jars or glass beakers in that little caravan of yours? There must be some traveling around with all those plants and tinctures." Benji had already scampered off before the Vantha had even started her second sentence. There was rummaging, more grunts of protest from the pig stuck under a chest, and then finally the telltale clinks of glass. Not two ticks later the girl was back, a small box of a few brand new beakers and assortment of perfume jars in her grimy hands. She offered them up, sparing not even a single glance for her master. There was a feverish resolution in her eyes and it split Vanari's heart in two to leave such a brave soul at the mercy of a violent low life. The Vantha dug one last time into her pockets, crouched by the still fuming con, and smacked one gold miza atop each of his eyes with enough force to make him squeal again. As a finishing touch, she jammed the last one in his mouth, forcing him to close it for fear of swallowing the entire coin. "So here's the deal, little man. I paid you, and therefore I'm not stealing, which is far more than the likes of you will ever deserve. Also, your slave girl never existed. You know why?" She patted down his pockets, then fished out a flimsy, yellowed piece of fold paper, smiling as she unfolded it to confirm its function. Behind her, she could hear a second, sharp intake of breathe. "Because she's mine. Mm, Verennia. Now that's a pretty name." She refolded the paper, pocketed it, and straightened back up. "Oh, and one last thing." The man was positively livid now. He had managed to heave the chest off of him and looked like he might very well work up the strength to fight his assailants with everything he had. But Vanari was done giving him chances. She kicked him straight in the groin, and whatever fury he had worked up vanished in one, pitiful mewl of a tick. "That's for being a filthy disgrace to Ionu, scum." Her voice suddenly grew cold and harsh. "Oh Trickster, I pray to you, if you can hear this single, faint prayer of one who is not wholly yours yet, let your mischievous eye see the shame this man has wrought upon your gift. May you take it from him, and curse him eternally." Whatever they had done to the man prior was nothing compared to this simple yet powerful act. Immediately, he stopped squirming, his face now a countenance of true, undisguised terror. Vanari had not the faintest clue if she had been heard, but the paralyzing fear evoked within the con's shriveled heart was good enough. Turning to Nolan, she transferred the perfume jars into her pack and handed him the box of beakers. "A gift, from this brave girl here. And an apology from yours truly for the inconveniences I've caused. Now, shall we put these to good use?"

OOC :

-3 gm for me

[Inoadar]

Inoadar stood, unmoving and unflinching, during the entire exchange between Ari and the con. His eyes bored into the man's face relentlessly, the knife pressed against the cleft between his topmost thigh and his "hope of future generations." The scowl slowly becoming a grin as the ownership of the girl was spontaneously transferred.

"Not a bad trade I'd say. A little girl you used to beat on, for a dick you'll still be able to beat off!" Inoadar enjoyed watching the stress in the man's face as he resisted a retort. There was brief moment that it looked like the man might still make a go at fighting, and Inoadar pressed the knife in further.

Ari made a speech, a curse more like, and Inoadar was astounded to see the man come unglued in fear. He didn't know who this Ionu was, other than some god in Alvadas, a town he'd never been to. But he thought it might be fate that he was starting to hear more and more of the place. He had only just gotten the knowledge and interest of the Lucid Lurker spider, and understood it to populate an island somewhat near to Alvadas. It seemed like ever since, he was getting news of the place. And now his associate, Valerius Nitrozian, of the Ravokian family of this same name, was sending word to some agent there to pursue news of this creature. 'Rhysol's will be done.' he thought as he hefted the box of lab gear.

He smiled down at the girl, and was not surprised or annoyed that she shrunk from him, seeking safety behind Ari. 'Not so brave, but not so stupid either. A survivor's combination.' He said a courteous "Thank You" to the girl, took a deep breath and looked forward as they strode through the People's Market towards The Docks District.

He turned as if with an afterthought towards the Vantha woman, "Oh, and by the way, that was not an inconvenience. Not only was it entertaining, it was educational. I was all ready to dismiss you as someone that would never make it in Ravok. I tend not to feel like investing my time in such people. But after that display, there may be hope for you after all. And yes, by all means, let's put this stuff to good use."

OOC - continues here.

[Abstract]

Grade Awarded!

Inodar

Skills

~ Rhetoric - 1
~ Weapon: Crossbow - 1
~ Riding - 1
~ Intimidation - 1

Lores

~ Vanari: Annoying Idiot
~ Layers of a Perfume
~ Vanari: Okay, Annoying But Smart

Other

N/A

Vanari

Skills

~ Herbalism - 1
~ Riding - 1
~ Rhetoric - 2
~ Observation -1
~ Unarmed Combat - 1

Lores

~ Vines: NOT Halbriar
~ Nolan: Annoying Poisoner
~ Benjii and the Hag Switched Genders

Other

-3gm

Notes

That was... amazing. Just plain hilarious. You two make a comedic pair. I liked Inodar's failing excuses for not hitting an old lady.

Oddly enough, I just figured out that Benji was Verennia after that post. Right? Makes sense, really.