Open [The Bizarre] A Miza for a tale [Job]

[Ila]

48th Winter, 514AV Sighing slightly, Ila glanced around the Bizarre. It was quite busy, as usual, but nobody had noticed her yet. Most people here didn't know that she was nineteen now, and that was something she had noticed. She'd had no birthday wishes from the other traders and that had irritated her somehow. She liked to pretend she wasn't bothered, but she was. She closed her eyes briefly, before opening them with a bright and cheerful smile on her face as she saw a few children running past. 'Children... They usually like my stories! Shame that they don't usually have any money on them!' she thought to herself before getting to work. "Come one, come all. Listen to takes of wonder, merriment, love, loss and hatred. Indulge in the tales of beasts and knights that you haven't yet experienced yourself, and let me take you away to a world of amazement! Ila spoke loudly, grinning even more when she saw the children grind to a halt and turn to cautiously look at her. She had always loved the curiosity that children held within them. They were always so eager to listen and to learn about things they had not yet experienced. They were the ones that enjoyed the stories the most, and they were the ones that believed the stories. "Today, boys and girls, I will tell you the story of my very own brother, Uro the brave.". Of course, this story was another fabrication. Ila had never had any siblings, but she felt as though telling this story as though it were about her fabricated brother gave it a more heart wrenching twist. "It was twelve years ago today, and I had only recently turned seven. Uro was twelve. My father and grandparents were all busy and wouldn't spend any time with us, so Uro and I decided that it would be fun to sneak out of the city and go play in the Unforgiving. Uro said that he had heard of somewhere that travellers went and that it had a funny name, therefore it would be a fun place to explore, so we both set off in the direction of the Ehktar Pass. "I'd never really heard of this place, so I followed my brother and watched him as he played with the wooden toy sword our grandfather had given him." Ila paused to observe the faces of the children to see that more people had joined them, beginning to form a small crowd. Naturally, people only stopped for a few minutes before moving on. Ila knew that not every story appealed to everyone, and if they'd heard her telling this story before they probably wouldn't have wanted to stick around for the ending. "After about two hours of walking, I got really tired and started annoying Uro, so he decided that we would rest for a few minutes. He even gave me his sword to play with as we sat by the edge of the trail. He taught me card games and told me stories before he made the decision to start walking again." Ila once again checked the reactions of the crowd. The children seemed to be enjoying it, although they weren't as enthralled as usual. The few adults there seemed to be enjoying the story as well, this time more than usual!

[Trista]

Alvadas was an odd place, to put it mildly, and the single strangest location in it was probably the Bizarre, Trista thought. The Akvatari still wasn't even sure how big it was, or how many people shopped there on any given day, or how it could possibly have been constructed. This was true even though she was there on a regular basis, given that it was the best place to sell her drawings and paintings that weren't done on commission. She was more or less finished with that for the day, however, and was now just flitting around, checking to see what other wares were available. Her rent was paid for the moment, and excess cash generally flowed through Trista's hands like water, so while she had a bit of money, maybe she could find a set of charcoal pencils, or a new watercolor brush. What she saw instead was a young woman who appeared to be some kind of storyteller, starting in on a tale. Immediately, the other vendors were forgotten, and Trista adjusted her course to get closer to the storyteller. The Akvatari had a highly-developed interest in stories, after all. She had done a fair amount of training as a writer, a craft that she still practiced regularly. But even aside from that, she would never be able to forget the distorted world on the other side of the well, the one where her stories had been her currency as she bartered with a nameless shade for a dead girl's hands. Flapping her wings once more, Trista set herself down on the ground, and gave the storyteller a look of pure attentiveness. She wanted to hear the rest of this tale.

[Ila]

Ila watched as a new, strange creature joined the crowd. It had flown in, and now rested on the ground, the seals tail attached to it's body obviously not fitted for motion on the land that the female had set herself down upon. After a few minutes of admiration at the creatures really quite beautiful form, Ila continued her tale. "It was barely five minutes that we began to here the heavy thud of wings hitting the air. I freaked out, looking towards the sky only to see a humanoid with wings. It's body was covered if thick, blue fur and I had no idea what it was!" Ila had changed her story to verify the creature as a Zith, just so she wouldn't offend the new and rather intriguing winged being that had joined the crowd. She would have hated to scorn the creature which she knew nothing of. The winged woman could prove to be a valuable friend! Suddenly Ila grew far more animated than she had been earlier in the story. "Shortly after I noticed it I screamed and my brother looked up as well. He shouted at me, telling me that it was a Zith and that we should both run back to Alvadas. I didn't know what to do, so I simply odd what my brother said and started running. It wasn't long before I felt him grab my hand and force me to run faster. I felt so scared, but the Zith hadn't attacked yet. I felt as though it was playing with us. A twelve year old boy with his wooden toy and me, a helpless seven year old with barely any meat on her bones! "We'd almost got to safety when I heard it fly closer. My brother pushed me to the ground and I heard him screaming. The next minute he was gone and so was the Zith. "I was terrified, not knowing where I was or whether the Zith would come back to me. I was also terrified of what my father would do when he found out what happened. So I just sat at the side of the road crying, until a merchant came past." Ila released that her tone had been far too animated for that part of the story and she nervously glanced around, praying that everyone was still entertained before moving to sit on a stone ledge. She sighed and looked towards the ground before finishing her story. "I told the merchant what had happened and he took me home to my father. My father was clearly upset, but he seemed glad that I was safe. I don't know what I would have done without Uro. If it hadn't have been for his noble sacrifice I would not have lived. I wouldn't be sat here twelve years later able to tell you of his bravery. And I would like to thank you for listening to my tale. Through your ears, I am able to spread the tale of Uro's true and a pure heart..." Ila looked up at the crowd, before deciding to also thank those that might not fully comprehend the common language, despite her lack of understanding of any other language. "Thank you listening, Thank hear!" Ila then watched as most of the crowd dispersed before she skipped to the strange seal-butterfly creature. "I must say, you are quite a rare beauty to my eyes. Would you care to request any stories, fair maiden ?" she asked with a light smile on her face.

[Trista]

Trista listened carefully as the teller spun the tale. It wasn't particularly detailed for a story about one's brother's gallant sacrifice, but that likely had to do with the fact that there were so many children in the audience. One always had to adjust the length and depth of one's story to tailor it best to the listener. What was most impressive was the teller's command of gesture. Trista paid special attention to this, because it was the weakest aspect of her own storytelling. The Akvatari had, if she were making an honest evaluation, excellent control of her voice and wording, but she was less good at using her body to tell the story. This particular storyteller, in the movements of her eyes, in her pacing, in the time she chose to move to a seated position, displayed much more physical dexterity. The other woman seemed to have taken especial notice of Trista, for after the rest of the crowd dispersed, she approached with a compliment and a question. A blush came to Trista's face -- she wasn't much used to compliments and preferred not to be noticed when she wasn't performing herself, though as an Akvatari in Alvadas, it often couldn't be helped. "Erm...thanks. I'm Trista." Trista reached into her satchel and withdrew a silver-rimmed miza, which she pressed into the other woman's hand as a show of gratitude for the story. "I don't have any specific requests," she said softly. She was, after all, on a mission to expand her art horizons, and as such, she'd much rather hear the tales someone would choose on their own. "But I'll gladly listen to another story."

[Phobius]

Busy, busy, busy. Phobius hadn't been to the Bizarre in a while, but it was just as crowded and bustling with activity as it'd been on his last visit, when he'd gone from stand to stand during a determined search for tasty things to put into a cake. He'd walked through the unassuming doors on a mere whim, today, and wasn't really looking for any specific foods or scraps of clothing. The boy had nothing in particular to do, and figured that wandering through the grand collection of shops, stands, and markets would cure him of his creeping boredom. Everywhere he looked, he was guaranteed find something interesting, something strange, something that he'd never seen, before. The Bizarre was a treasure-trove of new experiences, and the people within its stream-like core moved like hordes of fish, some following the current while others chose to swim against it.

Taking a moment to get his bearings, Phobius decided that the easiest thing to do would be to go straight. His feet had never failed in taking him someplace fun, before, so he had no problems with letting himself get "swept away" by the crowds. And so he went, occasionally standing on the tips of his toes so that he could look over people's heads at the things he passed by. There were stands where people sold all kinds of fish, some small enough to fit into the palm of his hand while others looked larger than his head. There were people selling little bottles of pretty-smelling oils, too, along with candles and soaps. Pastries and cakes seemed really popular, and Phobius detoured a few times to take a closer look at them, enjoying the delicious smells. Eventually, he bought one for himself; the woman selling them had told him what it was called, but he couldn't remember when he bit into it a few ticks later. That was okay, though. It tasted great, and there was even some chocolate filling on the inside.

It wasn't until a short while later that Phobius noticed the small crowd that had gathered. They were huddled off to his left, mostly children with a few adults mixed in, their backs to him as they stared at something. Curious, the boy wriggled his way toward them, all the while trying to avoid bumping into people.

There was a woman standing in front of them all, and she looked like she had been talking, but all the boy was able to catch as he came closer was something about someone named "Uro." Then, as if whatever had been going on was over, now, the surrounding crowd began to thin out. Before long, all that was left was himself, a handful of children and...

...and another woman. Only she didn't look like anyone Phobius had ever seen, before. The redness of her hair briefly made him think that she was another Inartan, but then he noticed the soft blue orbs of her eyes, and the butterfly-esque wings that were perched on her back. Not only that, but the lower portion of her body had been replaced with that of a seal's.

The boy couldn't help but gawk at her in pure awe. Kelvics were the only animal-people he knew about, but for some reason he doubted that this woman was one. She was two animals and a human, all at the same time. Could she fly with those wings? And did her seal tail help her to swim really well?

Distracted as he was by her looks, the woman's last words took a moment to reach him. She'd been speaking to the other lady, and had said that she wanted to listen to a story...

A storyteller? Phobius mused, turning his attention to the other woman and blinking at her. Was that what she had been doing, this whole time? Then the day was turning out to be a wonderful one. He loved to hear stories.

"Me too, me too!" the boy exclaimed, his amber eyes bright with eagerness as he sat himself down on the ground and gave the woman an expectant look. "I love stories!"

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

[Ila]

Ila had trouble taking her eyes off the odd woman as she responded, introducing herself as Trista and handing Ila a silver Miza. Ila couldn't help but grin at the 'gift'. "Well Trista, my name is Ila and if you ever require any help here, come find me!" she smiled, before the woman saying that she had no specific requests but would like another story. "As you wish." Ila was about to take a few steps away from the winged seal woman and back to the front of what was left of the crowd before she was distracted again. This time it was a young man, probably an Inarta judging by his red hair. It appeared that this excitable young man was wanting to here a story too, as he sat on the floor. She couldn't help but smile at this oddly childlike behaviour. Although there was something about has eagerness and the look in his eyes that made Ila slightly worried about whether she would meet his goals. "A story you want, young man, and a story you'll get!" Ila grinned, brushing away her worries as she skipped back to the front of the crowd, at least half of which had vanished, only two of the children remaining and a small handful of adults. At least these people obviously liked her stories enough for them to stick around, so she figured she could always make this story longer. The kids would just leave if they got bothered. "This story is one that a good friend of mine told me." she lied. "I met this friend three years ago and she was already three hundred years of age. It turned out that she was a ghost who had once been named Geda, before she met her end. "Many years ago, Geda was considered the most beautiful woman in Alvadas. Men came from far and wide, facing all kinds of perils, just to see her and ask for her love. However each time she turned them away, claiming that they were too ugly, or too plain for her." Ila observed the crowd, often using her hands to emphasise certain points. continued her tale, explaining how Geda's father had become tired of her shallow behaviour. "It wasn't until one fateful night and everything for Geda changed. The Suvan Sea was rough and Ionu had become angered enough to allow storm clouds to form over Alvadas and Laviku had thrown a writhing Serpent into the sea, allowing it to cause great waves that were capable of destroying every boat upon it. "Most Svefra were safe, their devotion to Laviku granting them safe passage if they kept closer to the land, but one boat was not offered the same protection. This was a merchant vessel from Syliras and they had not even considered that they may need protection. "It so happened that as this Merchant ship was troubled, it's crew and passengers screaming for help, a Palivar was sailing within eye and earshot of these poor souls. None of the Svefra aboard it were willing to help, except one. He was a young man of seventeen years with a heart of gold." Ila then continued to establish and embellish this Svefra's appearance, introducing him as Angel Moontide with long brown hair, tanned skin and 'the brightest blue eyes anyone could hope for'. She then continued to explain how he had saved several of his own kind after they had been left unconscious in the water and how strong he was, both in swimming and every other way. "Angel had decided that he couldn't just listened as these poor people died, so to the horror of his pod he dived overboard and swam to the merchant ship. When he got there, nobody was screaming. Instead he could only here quiet crying, but that was enough for Angel to attempt to climb up it the side of the ship. "He never quite made it, for a huge wave crashed into the ship, causing him to take a head injury from a loose plank of wood that sent him into a dark slumber. "It was a three days before he was discovered by none other than our heroine, the beautiful Geda. She had been walking along the beach as she awaited her uncles return from a fishing trip when she stumbled across a rather beautiful man, lying on his side in the sand, his body still soaked from his time being tossed around in the sea." Ila glanced towards the red headed boy and Trista, praying that they were both enjoying this tale

[Kuvarakh]

Kuvarakh strode through the Bizarre, enjoying the sights and sounds. The smells were always a sort of taunting torture for him though. Eating was a miserable affair for a being with no functional digestive system. A few chimes of pleasurable tastes, in exchange for a bell of heaving later. But the aromas were still every bit as enticing as they were when blood still flowed through his veins.

This was something he counter-meditated on frequently. It was an odd technique, based entirely on mind-over-matter. He'd sit in front of a mirror and go through the process he'd used to cast hypnosis on someone, directing it at the image of himself in he mirror. He knew there was no legitimate basis for the hypnosis to work on a reflected image. Yet, it seemed to bolster his belief that his appetite was steadily diminished.

Still, there was the more direct approach of putting distance between himself and the luncheon arrays. He opted for this method and came around a landscaped hillock to come to a few improvisational booths. "Stages" seemed to a bit too generous a term for the quartet of wooden crates, abutted to form a small platform for performers.

The woman sitting amidst a small gathering was similar to others he'd seen eking out a living here. Sometimes they had accompaniment, actors or musicians. This woman had no such help. Yet her tale caught his attention right away. Sufficiently for him to remain unaware of Phobius' presence at first.

Her tale of disaster and heroics along the coast of the Suvan Sea had elements to remind him of his own stranding on the southern coast of the Northern Sea: A ship out of Syliras, - they were none too fond of Nuits there - an attack by pirates - accompanied by lots of screaming and dying - which disabled the ship and forced it aground, - the Svefra crew deciding right then that he was bad luck - His own washing up after their attempt to be rid of him.

He listened closer, doubting, but wondering, if there was about to be the inclusion of a Dhani named Licearsvansan, a litany of comic misunderstandings which both bonded and alienated them, and a "witch" woman herbalist, who vouched for the pair with the local villagers, and gave them enough combined purpose to make a life there for a few years.

Kuvarakh chuckled grimly, recalling that he must have "gone through" four or five pirate bodies over the next few years as the village repelled incursions. The villagers there grew to appreciate the fact that Kuvarakh could make extended dives off the coast to search through the submerged ruins for valuables of both a monetary and nostalgic nature.

His smile grew more serene as he recalled his own nostalgia, in the sense that this seaside village had been the last place he'd lived before coming to Alvadas. He shook off his reverie and listened with a bit more focus.

[Trista]

Ila had launched into another story now -- this time, a sort of historical tale, though with some kind of ostensible current tie-in as well. It seemed like a pretty standard-issue romantic story, but the woman told it well, and, given that it involved Alvadas' history, Trista hadn't heard this particular one before. A few other folks had now approached also, including a young man with red hair and another person who appeared to be a Nuit. The former's stares made her a bit uncomfortable, and she was glad when his attention was grabbed by the storyteller. The latter didn't seem to pay her any particular mind. Trista gave her attention over to Ila, following her voice and gestures. If Ila was curious about whether or not folks were interested, she wouldn't have any question about the Akvatari's attention. She was all-in, waiting to see how the story would end.

[Phobius]

The woman, Ila, began to tell her tale, and Phobius' ears may as well have perked up at her mention of a ghost. Not just any ghost, but one who was apparently three-hundred years old. It was astounding to the boy that anyone, living, dead, or somewhere in-between, could manage to just...exist for such a long time. And for a moment, he wondered whether or not the other woman was happy being a ghost. Living for as long as she had sounded like it could be lonely.

As curious as he was, however, Phobius held his tongue and listened to the storytelling-woman talk, his amber eyes bright with interest. Funny-sounding tones and stresses graced his ears in the forms of words he'd never heard, before—things like "Svefra" and "Palivar" and "Laviku." The boy couldn't make heads nor tails of some of the people she seemed to be talking about, but it didn't bother him, and he focused on the story all the same, enjoying how Ila looked like she was having fun with it. And his expression morphed into one of disbelief as she went on to describe Angel's brave feats; he sounded like some kind of hero.

But then things took an upsetting turn. Poor Angel hit his head on his boat, and was swept away into the great unknown that was the sea. Luckily, the ghost-woman, who'd been alive back then, had stumbled across him. There were no other mentions of the people whom Angel had saved, and Phobius frowned a little, wanting to know what had happened to them. Did they go out looking for him, or had it been too dangerous to try? How come Angel hadn't drowned? Did all Svefra look like he did? Question after question popped into his head, but he didn't dare to interrupt the woman to ask one, despite how much he wanted them answered. Maybe she'd take a few once the story was over.

The remnants of the surrounding crowd shifted around a little, but Phobius' eyes never left Ila, and he eagerly waited for her to continue.


"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.