PM to join Origin (Flashback 364AV)

[Dionatos]

Winter 56 364AV Winter, harsh and cruel, the land was frozen around the lake. Trees were barren, accept the evergreens, bark grey and skeletal like bleached bone in the sun. Birds did not chirp and the icy forest seemed to be void of life, a forest of death. The lake shore had frozen over at its edges where the current was weakest. The ice licked at the wooden posts of a dock and gently brushed against the side of a tethered boat. The sun shined through the clouds and illuminated men, children, and women as they stood in a line to board the ferry across the lake. Dionatos stepped in line dressed in clothing that was not his. Dionatos was thankful toward the farmers that had took him in and gave him some coin. They witnessed his birth on the lakeshore and encouraged to apply as a citizen in the city. Given a ratty, fur, cloak as well as a few other pieces of clothing he was told to walk along the lake’s edge and find the dock. His body was naturally built in the sunlight and gave him a physique of a mercenary or maybe a heavy set black smith; he didn’t go unnoticed. Dionatos thanked the ferryman as he boarded the boat headed for Ravok. The cold pierced into his body and prompted him to find a corner of the boat against the raised edges to escape the wind. His body curled up into the clothing while his body quaked in an attempt to create warmth. “It gets better closer to home,” a greasy, weasel voice was obviously aimed toward Dionatos. He looked up and met the fair skinned man, fat, with yellow teeth. A broad grin had been plastered across the man’s face and gave Dionatos the sense that he was a slippery worm. “Yes,” Dionatos replied with a sibilant accent, “the protection gifted by Rhysol is great.” “Mmm,” the man’s stomach bounced in a chuckle, “that it is. I’m surprised you know what Rhysol is, you don’t look like you’re from around here.” The Dhani’s mind raced as he cautiously thought out his response, “I am from around the lake, it could be attributed to my unfamiliarness.” “No no, I visit the cattail farms frequently I’m certain I’d of spotted someone as well gifted as yourself.” The man ‘s beady eyes narrowed in on Dionatos, “would you like to tell me the truth?” “Why would I owe you an honest answer?” Dionatos’s eyes narrowed into a foreboding glare. “Just a curious man, no need to get cross,” the man’s shoulders shrugged with his arms, “besides if you’re a traveler I’d like to help you.” “Right, help.” Dionatos thought to himself. “That is kind of you, but what I’ve stated previously is the truth. I was born in lake Ravok,” Dionatos’s back pushed against the wooden wall. “Do you have papers?” The greaseball inquired as he sung the question. “Papers?” “Oh nevermind, hey listen, there is a nice place that has cheap housing for visitors near the docks. You should take up residences there.” The man’s demeanor became less creepy and seemed more genuine. “Thank you for the tip, would that place be Tarsin’s?” It was now Dionatos’s time to allow his lips to curl into a small smile. “Mmhmm, clever man,” the greaseball didn’t say another word as he left Dionatos to his own devices. “That was strange,” he thought to himself, “at least I know I need to get citizen papers or something may happen. I don’t know what, but the way that man presented himself it sounds like he is an official.” Dionatos pulled his cloak entirely over his body and even concealed his face from the cold. Four bells had passed, four tense bells as after the second he noticed the fat man kept watch on him. The city of Ravok was a spectacle as he stood from where he had sat. Through the journey he had uncovered himself as he felt the winter’s grasp dwindle. As his eyes gazed over the busy dock he wondered first how such a city could exist. There wasn’t a sign of any island, maybe a platform seam or two but for a dock a floating platform wasn’t too odd to see. The tall buildings stood erect and reached for the sky, the backside of Nitrozian Plaza quite the grand entrance. People busily skittered across the docks and plaza going about their business. An odd eye or two gave Dionatos a glance, but none was as odd as the fat man who had exited behind him and began to talk to a dock worker. The man pointed in his direction and the worker looked as well, Dionatos didn’t stick around much longer and left. He wandered the floating platforms of the plaza and took notice of the amount of canals which seemed to be just as lively as the plaza. Ravosalas filled with people glided through the crisp water and stopped at designated docks to allow their cargo to offload. Men dressed in black robes moved among the crowd silently, a single look of them made a shiver crawl up his spine. “Leth’s protection,” he whispered his prayer and moved into a less populated area. He stood at the entrance of an alley and took the time to read the signs above some of the shops and merchants. “Hmm not here,” he rumbled in disapproval. He looked down the alley and could see another busy street and began to walk across the wooden surface. Unmarked doors lined the building and unsettling sensation began to grow in his body. His eyes were drawn to the shadow veiled doors as he continued to watch cautiously. Two doors left, his pulse began to race as the second door approached. The decorative surface of the door soon passed him as his eyes almost immediately moved to look at the next. Each step, heavy on the wooden surface, felt like a countdown to the unknown. A countdown that twisted like the handle of a vice that squeezed on a lung. Still he moved forward toward the last door, the door of the inevitable a door of certain fate. “Leth’s protection, Leth’s protection,” he muttered under his breath as the last door’s inset frame grew into his eye sight. He breathed a heavy sigh as he found the door to be empty, the sound of voice resumed as the busy market continued to grind. The sun light shined bright in his eyes and a hand moved up to block the light. “What do we have here? Lost your way?” A familiar voice, weasely, the fat man. “What does it matter?” Dionatos backed away from the man and bumped into another, stronger chest. A hand landed on his shoulder and caused Dionatos to turn and see who it was. A tall man, dressed in clothing similar to his own greeted him with an almost toothless smile. “Oh is this the one you were talking about? Haven’t seen this one around here either.” Tall man’s voice was hollow as if riddled with disease. Dionatos shrugged his shoulder and shook the hand from it, the dirt on the fingertips smeared into the fur. “Back away now, I don’t want any trouble,” he told the truth but then thought of what to say next as he noticed both men take a step forward. “I, I am here to meet someone I can’t discuss it.” “Ahh there’s the truth!” Dionatos could practically hear the jelly of the Fatman’s belly roll with his laughter. “Hey, how much do you think one like this would fetch on auction?” “I don’t know, maybe three or four gold,” Tall Man’s hand reached out for Dionatos’s face. He cringed as he felt the soiled fingers touch a cheek, teeth clenched in frustration. He brought his hand up again to grip Tallman’s wrist tightly pulling it away and almost knocking the balance deficient body done. The hollow voice chuckled, more like howled, “with that grip maybe six or seven hundred easy.” “You’re slavers?” Dionatos’s brow crooked. “I could use this,” he thought to himself. “You’re right and you’re our next money maker,” Fatman replied and dampened his dried lips with his foul tongue. “My master would not be pleased to hear I’ve been put back up on market by the likes of you two,” Dionatos fibbed as his eyes flicked from the water and a door to his left. “Your master? Who is he?” Tallman questioned with a snake’s grin. “I can’t say,” Dionatos inched toward the side of the floating platform’s edge. “If I did, you’d both end up missing. Its for your protection and mine.” The slavers took a moment to think over the potential of the situation. “He obviously is a liar,” Fatman soon chimed in with a voice like metal against metal. “But he could belong to one of the families,” Tallman took a step back. “If he does, we’ll return him to them but for now, get the shyke.” Fatman replied as Tallman moved to his hip to grab a leather collar. “Families, who said anything about them?” Dionatos shouted as he moved closer to the side of the platform, head briefly turned over his shoulder to see the Fatman’s approach. He looked past the man however and noticed two figures begin to approach from behind the Fatman. Cloaks were drawn over their forms, but the glint of silvery blades was subtle but unmistakable. One thing he could not see was the small print of a windoak tree stamped into the hilts. “This is it, I’m going to die either way,” he thought to himself as he waited for the right moment to try his best in the water.

[Rayage]

Rayage normally wouldn’t involve himself in the affairs of slavers, but this one couldn’t help but grab his interest. At first glance it seemed to be a slave running from a group of slavers, probably something they wished to sell. A troublesome one. Though upon further investigation the scene looked more like something that could be taken advantage of, and well, his experiments for the day hadn’t turned out quite as planned and so he was in a particularly bad mood. That happened to be the best mood to mess with those idiot humans.

Stopping the small ship, Rayage tipped the driver before departing towards the crew. To draw their attention, as they were all sadly focused on the slave-to-be, he brought his hands out, and then together, summoning up djed to go with his gesture. A clapping sound could be heard as the nuit continued to clap. Rayage had heard enough of the interaction while passing to come up with a clever lie. He walked and clapped with a confident smile on his face while he focused on the emotion of fear, or being caught doing something which wasn’t supposed to be done. Guilt and fear exuded from the wizard and washed over the surrounding area, covering it like the morning fog.

The effect didn’t do much, but it was enough to make the slavers pause and look towards Rayage, and when he was sure he had their attention he pointed at them. His old patched up cloak, which used to be black, but now held a myriad of color due to the many different types of patches on it, flowed with his movements as he the accusatory finger was thrown towards them, ”Who do you think you are? he asked, ”To mess with someone elses property like that?!” he almost spat the words, channeling the disgust he felt towards his most recent failures towards the slavers.

”That man belongs to me.” Rayage told them, ”And Ive been looking for him all day. Its so nice of you to find him for me, but you will not be getting any reward if a hair on his head is out of place.”

The fatman sneered at the nuit, ”An inhuman. Petching undead. I doubt you are even a citizen of Ravok. We found him first.”

Rayage smiled and his hands went in his robes as he produced the citizen papers he had gotten years ago, ”These are my papers, and with them I have every right as a Ravokian citizen.”{/b] he brought the papers up as he walked even closer still. He had a calmness to him, a smug reassurance that he had won, [b]”And if you do not return my property to me, I will be involving the Ebonstryfe. And I can assure you, I mean more to Rhysol and this city than a lot of bottom feeders like you ever could.”

There was a moment of silence, as the men considered their options, but Ray wouldn’t allow that, ”You dare to try your luck with me?” he asked, his voice filled with poison as he approached the fat man, and looked into his eyes he could see them widen a bit with fear as Rayage took a moment to place the image of his death within his head. The wizard concentrated on picturing the fatman floating lifeless in one of the canals, and the ravokan fish eating away at his corpse. He pictured every detail, from the cold feeling of death, to the sounds of the water, the feeling of the fish nibbling away at bits of his rotting corpse… All to induce this image which he introduced with his djed and pushed out into the head of the man.

[Dionatos]

The men’s attention had been refocused to a new individual whom he had noticed prior. Tallman and Fatman’s gaze slowly turned toward the Nuit whose very presence sent a chill down Dionatos’s spine. Like a miasma, a sinking sensation subtly settled into his body. The fear of slavery however outweighed the fear of the unknown. A patchwork cloak drawn over a sickly man’s body. But when he realized that the man was only their to assist in his situation, his face curled into faux recognition of the man. The rouge only faltered when the Fatman asked to see proof of citizenship, “I hope this creature has some sort of proof,” he thought to himself, “but the canal does seem like a better route overall.” Dionatos’s eyes briefly glanced at the water and saw the two other cloaked figures pass by the scene without giving another regard. Their urgency seemed to have waned after the introduction of Rayage. But it was only the ruffle of paper that his eyes were drawn away from his flight plan. Though the heavy sensation of bleak and fear grew in Dionatos and other’s he began to feel more confident. His posture straightened as he took a step past the Fatman’s body, nearly being pushed into the canal as the man began to retreat. His body stepped up behind Rayage, brown slitted eyes made contact with the duo. He attempted to look concerned for the two men as the nuit’s pointed question was thrust through their bodies. Both the Fatman and Tallman’s eyes were even wider now, whether it be from fear or genuine surprise. However, hints of skepticism remained in their eyes and glimmered like diamonds. “How do we know you aren’t just protecting this slave?” Tallman asked before Fatman’s elbow was slung into the other’s ribcage. “What?” Tallman protested. “Shut your mouth, its not worth it.” Fatman’s voice wavered, the greasy confidence seemed to have diminished quickly along with what little color had been in his face. Tallman began to open his mouth and Dionatos interrupted him, “please Sirs,” the sensation to stab himself for addressing the slaver’s as superiors grew strong, “I told you before I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.” He wanted to vomit now as he attempted to play the submissive. The men’s eyes wandered from Dionatos and back to Rayage as if they had been balanced on the point of a spear, only a slight breeze enough to push them off and fall.