Completed Restless Winds (Shiress)

[Rook]

Rook
Winter 46, 517
Ravok

A dry gust of wind whipped from the canal and slammed into the side of the nearby buildings. It rattled window shutters and sent a crowd of passing noble women shrieking for cover. Rook, standing at the doorway of the Spicy Lass, inhaled. The damp scent of water intermingled with the pungent herbs wafting from the store’s interior. The wind swirled a cyclone of mist, dust, and spice and flung it over the rooftops, scattering water droplets across the storefront. Rook blinked water out of his eyelashes and watched a group of mercenaries snort with irritation, and turn their coats up against the wind. Another gust whipped Rook’s hood off the top of his head, fluttered the cloth across his neck and sent his cloak spasming. Rook was half tempted to let the wind take it, and see how far it could escape over the rooftops.

“Come back in the shop Rook. You’re going to scare away all the customers.”

Rook glanced behind him where his master Ruby leaned against the door frame. Her brows were knitted in a half amused, half exasperated manner that Rook had become very familiar with in his year with her.

“I wasn’t going to be long. Just watching for customers,” Rook replied, but the protest was just for the sake of protest, and he was already turning back towards the shop and following his master through the entryway, back into the cool and claustrophobic confines of the shop.

“Yeah well your looks can warp iron. Good if a customer is getting rowdy, not so good if we’re trying to entice people inside.”

Ruby sighed and pushed back a curtain that lead into the concealed and private back area of the shop. Rook followed her and felt his sinuses twitch familiarly as the curtain parted for him. Rows of bags lay clustered on the ground, brimming with herbs. The pungent smell was both incredibly intense and breathlessly nostalgic. Ruby settled into a chair beside one bag and with delicate fingers began weighing and bagging small quantities of herbs into smaller packages for display. Rook moved over to his own project; a basket that had become unwoven and was in need of repair. The kelvic settled himself on the floor of the shop and dragged the heavy basket into his lap. After no more than five minutes, his wandering mind forced him to lose interest. Rook’s hands were nowhere near adept enough for him to manage anything better than a cursory, lumpy weave. When there were customers things were more active and exciting. At least then there were things to look at. Rook set the basket aside and went towards the door.

“Rook,” said Ruby, with a note of warning. “What did I say about lurking at the entrance?”

Rook paused with one hand on the curtain. He glanced behind him at Ruby, face a blank mask.

“Just...sit quietly okay?”

Rook glanced mournfully at the basket he had been working on.

Ruby sighed. “Rook,” she told him. “You don’t have to work on the basket, but stop being an ass and do something.”

“I could patrol around outside,” Rook suggested hopefully. The expression on his master’s face told him exactly what she thought of that suggestion. “As a wolf,” he added for clarification, but his master’s expression darkened further.

“Rook,” she said, exasperated. “Wolves running circles around a shop doesn’t draw in customers!”

Sullen, Rook moved to the corner of the room and thumped down on the floor. His restlessness was aggravating the both of them. Ruby sighed again and turned back to her work. Rook could practically sense the tension between the two of them, threatening to burst into a lecture at the slightest probing. It had been days since he’d gone outside for any longer than short bursts. He was halfway to madness.

A bell tinged in the front of the shop. Rook and Ruby looked at each other, and as one the two of them leaped to their feet and pushed past the curtain.

“Welcome to the Spicy Lass,” Ruby said. “How can I help you today?” Rook followed eagerly, poking his head through the curtain. Whoever it was, it was bound to be more interesting than this.

Rook

[Shiress]

Shiress glanced from the parchment in her hand, to the sign hanging above the door, "Spicy Lass," she read, crinkling her nose at the amalgam of aromas drifting around the store front. "This is it." she said, then pushed through the doorway.

Upon entering, she was greeted by, Shiress assumed, the shop owner, and a pair of golden eyes peeking out from a curtained doorway. The slave smiled shyly, "I'm looking for," she glanced down to the writing on the parchment she still held, " nutmeg?" The female proprietor lost a bit of her smile and the sudden, critical gaze she set on Shiress was not lost to the slave.

Nutmeg was a very expensive spice and no doubt the woman was wondering what kind of slave master would arm their slave with 30 gold coins, then send them about the city, unaccompanied, or guarded. Shiress readily ignored the contempt and followed the woman. She was quite used to the fact that, somehow, Ravokian's new she was a slave by sight, and that each would adopted an air of suspicion. The slave could only imagine that it was the freedom trust that her Mistress so graciously offered that elicited such reactions. Sayana did trust Shiress...that, or Sayana was aware of the simple fact that being surrounded by a giant body of water, and her traveling the canals on a daily basis, made any escape her slave may attempt nearly impossible.

After a bit of a distraction, brought on by a curious pink powder, Shiress noticed the shop owner had moved away, walking toward the back of the store. Shiress followed, her emerald gaze falling into the many baskets as she passed by. Stepping up to a large, oval basket, Shiress was handed a small bag of amber colored powder, just as the door to the shop opened. Ruby moved away, greeting the new patron; a small, round woman who, Shiress thought, smiling, must be a baker or cook for she looked to have a habit of taste testing her food, regularly.

Through the doorway, behind the woman, came the telltale sound of the bell tower. Shiress froze, counting, the smile fading from her lips. The slave had explicit instruction to meet her Mistress by the dock ten chimes before the ninth bell or she can find your own way home.

"Nine. Oh no!" A look of self reproach, and not a little bit of fear, passed over the slaves features, the sound of a whip cracking in her thoughts. Turning on her heel, Shiress bolted toward the door, completely forgetting about the small bag of nutmeg she still held in her hand, and disappeared through the exit in a flurry of long, chestnut hair.

Shiress rounded the building, nearly colliding head on with a woman, before sliding to a stop at the docks edge. She swore loudly, throwing up her hands; there were no ravosala in sight. Then swore even louder upon noticing the unpaid for spice in her hand.

"Oh, for petches sake!" she swore again, turning back toward the Spicey Lass.


.

[Rook]

Rook saw the smile on his master’s face flicker as she looked at the customer and listened to her words. Searching for an answer, he studied the woman’s face. She was pretty in a rugged sort of way. It wasn’t a beauty that projected. It was the opposite of skin deep, buried underneath layers. Her eyes in particular were a striking bright green. Rook might have pegged her a kelvic if she didn’t so clearly smell of human. His eyes settled on a mark just below her collarbone. Ah. That explained her how demure she was acting. She was a slave.

Mindful of Ruby’s frequent fiery demands to keep his intimidating eyes to himself, Rook roamed his eyes away from the woman and instead he watched her from the corner of his eye as he stood in his usual spot. Her gaze wandered between the rows of spices, settling with curiosity on various types. Ruby turned from the woman to grab the nutmeg that she had asked for, then handed it to her. Before further conversation or bartering could take place, both Rook and Ruby started at the sound of the bell. Ruby swirled towards the new customer, all smiles. “Welcome to the Spicy Lass!” she said. Rook’s lips twitched at the new customer. The woman was the size of a house! Thoroughly amused, Rook focused his attention on the new woman. Then he heard Ruby curse.

Alarmed, the kelvic looked to his master. Rarely if ever did Ruby use explicatives. “That petching girl took off without paying!” his master snarled. Ruby’s eyes connected with Rook’s. There was a deep, buried fire trembling there. “Rook,” said Ruby. “Go fetch her back here, understand? Whatever you have to do.”

Rook understood completely. Although he worked decently as a handyman and a gofer, in the end he was a kelvic after all. And what use was a predator kelvic if they didn’t get a chance to hunt every now and again?

Eagerly, and much to the horror of the remaining customer (as well to Ruby’s amusement, who was long used to this), Rook yanked off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. Once naked, his slipped into his wolf skin. It was like coming home. It had been far too long since he had last worn his animal form. As a wolf, his already keen senses heightened. The spice the girl carried was distinct and Rook had no worries in his ability to track her. The break in boredom had tripled his restlessness into an unstoppable maelstrom. His animal instincts surged into a single unstoppable desire. Chase. Ruby was ready for him, and she yanked open the door to the shop just before he collided into it. Rook spilled onto the street, blood boiling with the hunger of the hunt.

His eyes found the woman in an instant. She had not made it far. His instincts broiled, and he charged her. His long legs pounded against the street and in one long, elegant leap, Rook had collided with the woman. Rook saw nothing but her, felt nothing but the urge to take down prey. Therefore, he hadn’t considered their proximity to the canal. His single, solid, powerful leap sent the pair of them into the water below.

Rook

[Shiress]

Emerald eyes locked on the charging canine a tick too slow. Raising her arms instinctively, Shiress caught two fistfuls of red, wiry fur, before being hurled backwards beneath the animals momentum. Shiress screamed, feeling the dock leave her feat.

Water closed over the slaves head silencing the scream in a gargle of bubbles. In an full on panic, she furiously pushed herself away from the beast and kicked for the surface, her head breaking free of the watery grave with a gasping explosion of breath and curse, hand reaching for the dock. The slave managed to pull herself halfway up, before losing the slippery grip she held.

Again, Lake Ravok pulled her down and came together over her head, but before she could aim for the surface, strong hands grabbed her arm and a fistful of long hair and hauled her over the docks edge. Spluttering and spitting, Shiress caught her breath, then coughed and heaved until she could finally speak.

"It" she coughed and spit "it was a dog! A huge dog!"

"No, that be no dog, Miss' A man said. Looking up Shiress saw a man kneeling on one knee beside her, his grey beard nearly as long as the leather apron he wore. He stretched his head over the dock, squinting into the canal. "That beast be closer to a wolf, than any dog." Shiress gawked at the man. Having made it to her feet, she leaned heavily against a wall, twisting the remnants of Lake Ravok from her hair.

"A wolf?" she chuckled, not believing the man's description, "Why would a wolf be roaming the docks?" She laughed again, this time shaking her head, amused. "I'm sure it was a dog..."

[Rook]

Rook didn’t perceive that he was falling until he hit the water. Shock from the cold water flooded his senses, and the intensity of the chase fled from him in an instant. He needed to breathe! Rook kicked away from his prey and lunged skyward, powerful legs kicking instinctively until his head broke the surface. He gasped and a flood of air flooded through his senses. He no longer cared about his prey. He was cold, wet, and struggling to keep his head above the waves that the wind was kicking up. Shuddering, he propelled himself weakly back towards the edge of the river, feeling a surge of panic every time his head slipped beneath the waves. He launched his body back against hard ground, but his wet paws slipped helplessly against the edge and he slid backwards into the water. Common sense surged into the foreground past fear and instinct, and he shed his wolf skin and grasped the edge of the dock. With a heave, he hauled himself over the edge, human and naked, gasping and coughing water from his lungs.

It took a few moments, but soon his head and chest cleared and he looked up. He could see the young thief wringing water out of her hair, and his copper eyes narrowed as he looked at her. In a second, he was a wolf again, and he lunged forward, this time with more care as to his environment and caught her by the wrist with his mouth. He didn’t bite hard, but he held her firmly and began pulling her back towards the shop.

Rook

[Prophet]

There was a huge splash. Commandant Fettersmith lifted a brow and slowly turned his body as he lowered his canteen. He wore a more traditional set of armor that revealed his muscular legs and arms. The black leather covered his chest, forearms and feet but allowed for freedom of movement in almost every direction. The red and white hatched cloth which made up his tunic showed itself around his legs much like a kilt and it was matched by a set of armbands just below his shoulders. The dark eyes were much like the waters of Lake Ravok and they coolly found the gaze of his patrol. A cherry and two constables accompanied him today, one shy of yesterday since his other cherry had been unfortunate enough to eat something not well cooked and was, no doubt, bent over a dock somewhere tossing his innards into the water.

“Let’s go check it out, troops.” The deep baritone sounded. He didn’t wait for acknowledgement just simply turned on his boot heel and made brisk strides along the platform and around the corner. He beheld the spectacle with a narrowed gaze. Some kind of animal was holding a woman by the wrist in its maw and both were soaked. An older craftsman was nearby so the commandant approached him and began speaking before even being recognized. “What happened here?”

“That kelvic pushed the lady into the water, sir.” The man replied when he turned to see the source of the question. He recognized the City Guard as almost all Ravokians did. His bent and weary fingers pointed at the reddish dog. “He was a dog then a boy and then a dog again!” Fettersmith waved a hand to dismiss the man and moved towards the struggling duo. He reached under his breastplate and drew forth a small vial of liquid which looked like very blue water. As he drew within kicking distance, he paused, broke the vial and then cast the contents onto the face of the animal. Inside was not a liquid but a powder which traveled in a thick blue cloud and clung onto the fur of the beast, the arm of the woman and a bit hovered in the immediate area. It was Mevakal- the drug developed by the Black Sun to force a kelvic to shift. The transition is close to instant much like a natural shift but far more painful. It has been compared to being turned inside out and can cause blackouts, nausea, headaches, muscle spasms and fever-like symptoms.

Satisfied with his decision, Commandant Fettersmith turned to the thoroughly wet maiden and his eyes instantly lit up in a most devious sort of way. She was small, attractive and very much a slave as evidence of the mark on her hand. In the most serpentine of ways, the guardsman inched closer with an air of concern but also one of caution. Despite his urges and flaws, Fettersmith was no fool. “Are you alright, miss?” His eyes went to the place where the canine’s teeth had held her wrist. “Where is your master? Why did this thing attack you?”

The two constables, both tenured under Fettersmith, flanked the kelvic and waited for the shift to finish. Once the animal was once more a human, they seized him by his arms and lifted him to his feet with unkind grips of iron on his thin arms. Seeing that he was also a slave, Fettersmith’s mouth began to water. Around his neck was a silver chain that hung behind his chestpiece. The small trinket held a symbol of the people he served. The Commandant was a non-blooded member of the Lark Family who specialized in slaves. The wheels were already turning but he would not make any judgements or decisions until the truth was heard. A genuinely concerned expression was kissed with a smile as the guardsman contemplated several things- today was going to be one of those truly blessed occasions.

Template Courtesy of Wymez

[Shiress]

As soon as the young man's auburn head cleared the dock, Shiress knew him instantly -the curtain lurker in the spice shop. A tick later, several things clicked into place. "The spice!" she realized, aloud, he had attacked her because she had taken the spice! "Wait!" Shiress said, seeing the boy's face, "Let me expla...ahhhhh!" The slaves words trailed off in a shriek as the Kelvic shifted and lunged, seemingly all in one swift movement, snatching her arm from it's defensive position.

Looking down at her wrist, now inside the wolf's muzzle, Shiress opened her mouth to finish her explanation, but something about talking to an animal had it snapping shut again. The canine had a vice like grip on the slaves wrist, letting Shiress know that any attempt at an escape would send the animal's fangs slicing into her flesh. Shiress had no plans to escape, though, and let the wolf begin to lead her away.

The pair hadn't made it far before being intercepted by four City Guard. Shiress, swearing under her breath, dropped her eyes. Hearing the conversation end, Shiress glanced up, seeing one of the guardsmen moving toward her, but it wasn't her that the man's eyes were on. Green eyes snapped from the guardsman to the Kelvic just as blue powder dusted the wolfs face. The slave instinctively sidestepped away from the foreign substance, but a moment later, seeing the Kelvic begin to writhe in torturous pain, she stepped back, reaching for him.

Her efforts were forestalled, however, by two more Guardsmen and Shiress was left to watch on in horror, her ire rising with every whimper or moan from the boy. She heard the man's question's, but her tongue was not forced into motion until the man called the poor boy a thing

"I'm fine!" she snapped back at the sentry, all pretense of respect or regard for the man's position disappearing. "My Mistress is out in the canal's, working, and this thing is a boy!" she added, tone softening as green eyes turned back to the Kelvic in a genuinely apologetic gaze. "He hasn't done anything wrong." Shiress crossed her arms over her chest with a sigh. "I stole a spice..nutmeg, from The Spicy Lass, and he was only doing his job."

Realizing what she had just said, the slaves eyes widened, and she began a hurried explanation. "I mean it was an accident! I have the coin, here..." Reaching toward her waste, Shiress slumped, feeling no coin pouch. "I did have money, but I lost it when I fell into the lake."

Shiress groaned, scrubbing the palms of her hands over her face.

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka

[Rook]

Rook had been completely full of purpose. Bring the thief back to the shop. That was what Ruby had asked him to do. Rook was, and would always be loyal to Ruby, and if he had a chance to exercise his instincts in the process, than all the better. But as the city guard marched towards him, Rook suddenly found himself faltering. A stab of apprehension shuddered through him, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since his departure from the Kelvic Research Institute. He didn’t have a chance to react to the suddenness of the event before a vial of dust was cast into his face.

Piercing agony shuddered through Rook’s body, leaving him dumb and writhing. With horror, the kelvic felt his body change back to human. It was as if a clawed hand had reached into his chest, yanked out his human skin, and forced him into it. Rook collapsed to the ground, trembling and confused. Daggers of pain pounded behind his temples, making it difficult to think. Fear pierced his senses as he felt himself yanked up off of the ground by hard, unkind hands. The kelvic tried to force himself to think, to say something, but his mind had ground to a terrified halt. His body still remembered the tortures he’d suffered in the Institute, and his body shook.

Rook’s head cleared only a fraction as the young thief spoke. Confused, he turned his head towards her. What was she saying? Was she...actually defending him? Was she admitting to taking the spice? A mistake? What could that possibly mean? Blearily he shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but he felt cold metal hands clamp down even tighter on his wrists.

“What are you doing with my slave?!” Rook felt his heart rise in a surge of relief at the voice. Ruby would save him! He turned towards his master, who had rushed over towards them. Rook could see the worry in her eyes, but her posture held its usual authority. “I sent him after her, he was acting on my orders,” said Ruby, glancing in the direction of the thief. Her eyes held a fraction of sympathy in them as they looked at the woman. “I think this is probably something we can handle on our own now. No need to get the City Guard involved.”

Rook

[Prophet]

The Commandant just blinked. He wasn’t slow nor was he simple but some things took a tick or two to soak in and process. Ruby was a well-known entrepreneur and he couldn’t well argue with a citizen on a manner of what her slave was or was not told. His left hand rose and he snapped his fingers then added a look to his constables which held the very naked and dripping wet boy. The inaudible commands were followed and he was released gently. It would never due to damage the property of another Ravokian. One of the men even mumbled an apology as he stepped away.

“Kind of you to straighten us out on the actions of your slave, Miss Ruby but this other one is someone’s property as well and I can’t, in good conscience, leave an asset unattended like this.” Fettersmith turned to Shiress and stared at her moment. “You’ve been honest and I appreciate that. However, I am still inclined to do my duty as ascribed to me by the good people of Ravok.” He motioned for his men to take hold of Shiress, one on each arm then held his hand up to stop them. The small woman was bookended by a pair of guards and facing the commanding officer while her back was open to the cool water of the lake. “Since you’ve been cooperative thus far, I’ll ask you continue to do so and we can all- hopefully- be on our merry when all is said and done.” He turned his head to look towards the shop keeper and her slave. “Please stay a while longer and see if we can recover wat was lost.” His head swiveled back towards the save girl.

“Taking a dip in the lake has really put you in a hard place, slave.” The word was spoken in am tter of fact tone and not to indicate any spite or misgivings. “The product is now useless and cannot be returned. You claim that you intended to pay but forgot.” The beady eyes shifted from one face to another in the small assembled crowd. “Yet you ‘lost’ it on your tumble into the canal.” Fettermsmith leaned in a bit to emphasize his point. “Rather convenient, don’t you think?” He turned his back to her so he could see the rest of his men then focused on the kelvic slave who stood opposite the brunette. “He stripped himself to save his master’s belongings. I think it only fair that you do the same to show us that you aren’t acting upon some nefarious notion that would allow you to rob these good people of their goods and make off with a sizeable sum of your master’s coin.” His hands flourished in his speech but when he was done, he was once more facing the accused thief. “If it would help you to decide, I can always order my men to strip you.”

The Commandant turned and moved towards Ruby while he gave the human slave a moment to mull the choice laid before her. “Miss Ruby, can I see the papers on your slave, please?” He smiled a genuine, toothy grin and held out his hand. Albeit a son of a bitch, the officer was devoted to his job and knew the protocols. He simply had a system for following them which some might label as suspect. “It’s just a formality. I promise that we won’t hold you a moment longer than is necessary.”

Template Courtesy of Wymez

[Shiress]

Shiress' green eyes followed the shop owner as she approached. The brunette had an undeniable air of command about her as she spoke to claim her slave.

Slave?

Shiress gave the Kelvic a sympathetic glance, before settling back on the Guardsman, with a look of annoyance, as the man's dark eyes locked onto her. He was up to something, and Shiress knew it, and not a moment later, it was revealed.

The slave's casual stance stiffened somewhat, as the two City Guardsmen flanked her. Green eyes narrowed on hearing the man's word, and narrowed even further when his true intent was revealed.

The son of a bitch meant to shame her.

The slave shifted her gaze to the accumulating onlookers, scanning the growing crowd for a specific black clad Ravokian, but if he was present, he wasn't close by. Giving the men by her side a wary glance, Shiress cleared her throat, the muscles in her jaw working as anger flared.

"Feel free to pat me down, you will not find that I'm lying to you, but I will not disrobe and willingly allow you to shame me for your own corrupted amusement, Sir!"

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka