A frown materialized upon the Svefra's expression as he listened to the Konti's ramblings as if she were aware of what it was to be Svefra. Or what it was to be desperate. Coin was the way of the world, allowing a measure of independence from those that enlisted one's services. To be supplied with one's every need was to fall loose into dependence, and without that original source, there was little to be had. She spoke of magic that brought those back from the brink of death and power stoppered within bottles and pieces of paper that could very well be damaged on the sea.
Could magic truly intervene on the will of the Gods? It seemed unlikely that a piece of paper could stop Laviku's plan for his children. A sealed wound had no effect on the body if it was pulled into the tide. Death at sea was a very common occurrence, and Tydus, perhaps more willingly than the rest of his Pod, accepted this. The Svefra feared his God, feared the power of the sea, but embraced it with the grim resolution that the God of the Sea did as he desired. There was no need to collect bottles filled with anything but rum or paper of any sort. The life of a Svefra was not meant to hold true to a steadfast desire to live, but for stock in Laviku and the holding fast upon his customs.
The Svefra had never seen the Lia Tatianna use some sort of piece of magic paper to heal her wounds. He had never seen her sit down at a table and trade for supplies that could readily be uncovered by means of plundering. The pirate's life was met primarily upon the seas with the table being used for consumption and gratification. This woman spoke of respect for the Lia, but she either withheld knowledge of their culture or insulted the very meaning of Svefra by insinuating that the supplies she had to offer were more necessary than the blessed, radiant metal that would perpetuate their freedom.
In fact, the Svefra could go as far as insulting the woman herself for what she had asked of them. The lass spoke of the Svefra lacking wisdom and Kavala herself needing help to sail a ship that was small enough to do so on her own. She spoke of needing company yet her words bit with the venom of one very clearly and obviously comfortable with the ultimate fate of a sociopath. She insinuated that the Pod was to use her gold for the pursuit of intoxicants to cloud the mind yet she spoke of magic which he knew from personal experience had a far greater likelihood of ruining one's life. Her words were spoken carefully with her observations derived from a conversation lasting less than fifteen chimes, yet struck with the disgraceful finality of decapitation. In truth, Tydus found himself repulsed by the woman and her tongue and hoped that the Svefra in his presence would do the same.
The Svefra turned to his Lia, a smile gracing his features once before he spoke to her in Fratava. He cared little whether or not the woman would understand him, but his desire to speak Common was lost to the onslaught of prejudice that was so common against the Svefra. It was his first time experiencing it firsthand, though.
"Lia, I think I'm done here. I'll show you the respect that she throws about without heeding her own instruction and give you the... pleasure of the last word."
The Svefra shook his head once, a breath loosing from his lungs as he turned on his heel and exited the locale, intent on returning to his ship for the best sort of reflection, a glass of ale and a night of sleep. The woman spoke true, to an extent, but her ignorance of the situation and her instantaneous judgement of their refusal to accept her magical hogwash was unacceptable.
Pitiful pieces of paper. I believed the Konti to be more graceful when it came to their words, but this one spewed her nonsense quite willingly.
Could magic truly intervene on the will of the Gods? It seemed unlikely that a piece of paper could stop Laviku's plan for his children. A sealed wound had no effect on the body if it was pulled into the tide. Death at sea was a very common occurrence, and Tydus, perhaps more willingly than the rest of his Pod, accepted this. The Svefra feared his God, feared the power of the sea, but embraced it with the grim resolution that the God of the Sea did as he desired. There was no need to collect bottles filled with anything but rum or paper of any sort. The life of a Svefra was not meant to hold true to a steadfast desire to live, but for stock in Laviku and the holding fast upon his customs.
The Svefra had never seen the Lia Tatianna use some sort of piece of magic paper to heal her wounds. He had never seen her sit down at a table and trade for supplies that could readily be uncovered by means of plundering. The pirate's life was met primarily upon the seas with the table being used for consumption and gratification. This woman spoke of respect for the Lia, but she either withheld knowledge of their culture or insulted the very meaning of Svefra by insinuating that the supplies she had to offer were more necessary than the blessed, radiant metal that would perpetuate their freedom.
In fact, the Svefra could go as far as insulting the woman herself for what she had asked of them. The lass spoke of the Svefra lacking wisdom and Kavala herself needing help to sail a ship that was small enough to do so on her own. She spoke of needing company yet her words bit with the venom of one very clearly and obviously comfortable with the ultimate fate of a sociopath. She insinuated that the Pod was to use her gold for the pursuit of intoxicants to cloud the mind yet she spoke of magic which he knew from personal experience had a far greater likelihood of ruining one's life. Her words were spoken carefully with her observations derived from a conversation lasting less than fifteen chimes, yet struck with the disgraceful finality of decapitation. In truth, Tydus found himself repulsed by the woman and her tongue and hoped that the Svefra in his presence would do the same.
The Svefra turned to his Lia, a smile gracing his features once before he spoke to her in Fratava. He cared little whether or not the woman would understand him, but his desire to speak Common was lost to the onslaught of prejudice that was so common against the Svefra. It was his first time experiencing it firsthand, though.
"Lia, I think I'm done here. I'll show you the respect that she throws about without heeding her own instruction and give you the... pleasure of the last word."
The Svefra shook his head once, a breath loosing from his lungs as he turned on his heel and exited the locale, intent on returning to his ship for the best sort of reflection, a glass of ale and a night of sleep. The woman spoke true, to an extent, but her ignorance of the situation and her instantaneous judgement of their refusal to accept her magical hogwash was unacceptable.
Pitiful pieces of paper. I believed the Konti to be more graceful when it came to their words, but this one spewed her nonsense quite willingly.
