|  Author | Topic: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty (Read 75 times) |
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
|  | PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Thread Started on Dec 27, 2007, 11:04am » | |
Another day of rounds at the Hospice of the Needy and Destitute. Another evening of preaching the Athar's call for independence. It seemed like another normal day for her in Sigil, after her quick trip across town and back finding a magus who could solve the riddle of what their magical doo-hickeys were. With that little riddle solved, Zevit went right back to work, sticking her nose on the grindstone with no idea that her return to Sigil would be brief indeed.
Who could tell that upon such strange beings so much would soon depend?
Zevit's preaching came to an end for the evening, and the few bashers with her took down her stands and the like. However, she began crossing the Lower Ward, moved – as if by chance – to take a short stroll on her own before returning to the Hospice to rest and finally bed down for the evening. A few blocks from the Hospice, with a steady stream of patrons entering in come dark, was the Six Arrows Tavern, where the Arbor Street Boyos usually hung out. Street toughs all, they generally steered clear of the Athar priestess, or indeed anyone who looked like they could handle themselves. 'Peeling gullies' all day long was more their style. The Boyos had any number of scams; they even had a deal worked out with an abishai where they'd pretend to save a fellow from the fiend and then clean up a nice reward, which they would split with the fiend.
Two pints later, she decided to head back, making her way through the streets with good cheer. She was walking behind some -emaciated- looking wisp of a man who had the Cage-struck tourist expression on his face, gawking side to side at each and every little thing. Zevit didn't think anything of it, of course, at least until the man stooped over and started peering at something. She blundered into him, and muttering a curse wound up slipping, stepping straight into the object of his study, a 'road apple' left by an Arcadian pony. She began murmuring a harsh curse in Baatorian, then adding, “Agh, watch it, y'bubber.” What the heck had so intrigued him about pony blek that he stopped short in the street she did not know, but she started walking over to the curb to scrape it off her boot on the rise of the stone.
~
*The pale whisp of a man was, simply put, having the time of his life. The first month or so had been rough. There was just so...much of everything. It was a problem of quantity. Too much light. Too much gravity. Too much air. Too much heat. It was a massive overload, and quite miserable at first. After the month or so he could open his eyes further than a squint so long as it wasn't midday. He hadn't gotten the hang of breathing, but he'd tried it a few times just to see what it was like. That experiment had just ended in a coughing-fit, and he'd decided to leave that alone for the time being. He could now carry himself like he wasn't wearing a horse on his back.
Now, some of those adjustments mostly out of the way..he was getting down to the fun stuff though. Not all of the excessive amounts of things were bad. In fact, most of it was quite interesting. Like the idea, for instance, that pack animals left steaming, ill-smelling piles on the ground behind them wherever they went. It was curious, and utterly foreign to him. It was one such pile he was inspecting when he was bumped into from behind. This was also something he wasn't used to having happen. People don't just bump into other people where he was from. In fact, where he was from was pretty much defined by the lack of anything bumping into anything else, period.
Of course, odd as he was..he reacted even more oddly to being bumped into from behind. He didn't fall forward, like most folk would. Rather, he let out a curiously muted, muffled yelp..and dropped backdward to the ground like a rock. He spent a few moments kicking his arms and legs in the air, looking like a turtle that had gotten flipped over, before he actually started putting his mind to this conundrum...a bit. He looked over to the woman who had bumped him and gave her a rather wan smile* My apologies, I hadn't realized there are places one is supposed to stop and others one is not. *he paused for a moment, then looked at her rather pleadingly* So if I give my word it won't happen again, would you mind lifting me from this weight-increasing enchantment? *he made a show of trying to get up, but his pack stayed firmly put. His pack, strapped to him as it was, held him firmly put as well. Apparently he thought he was being penalized for his transgression in this manner.*
~
“What the pike?” she said. The little...whatever he was – and it took a lot to confuse a zu'ling – was wobbling on the ground like a d**n thingyroach which flipped over. Her eyes went a bit wider, and when she heard his question, she couldn't be annoyed anymore. This was just – well, he was probably playing addled for some reason, but how could one not laugh when there was some little shadow-thing was flailing about like a drunken monkey. “Alrigh', y'soddin' twit, I'll help y'up, but don' go thinkin' you're going to peel me. I didn' do anythin' t'ya. An' wha' kind of leatherhead sits there starin' at some road apples anyway?” She reached out for his hand. He was even lighter than he looked. Zevit, bracing herself to pull up a smallish man, wound up yanking him up much harder than she expected, which didn't move him from the spot. Or not entirely. He had moved up, but his pack had not, and she was tugging it against something that seemed rooted to the ground. Yet the light man was coming up just a bit. She noticed at once that things near him, well, smelled -good-. The smog of the Lower Ward was gone almost as soon as she drew close to him. It was like everything around him was -sterile.-
“Ugh, blast it, somethin's got y'pack caught,” she said. “Get those straps ou' an' I'll help y'up. An', y'don' stop starin' at things in the middle of the street.” She gave him another once-over. The little figure was – what the hells was he? It still hadn't hit her, really, that he was so confused about what in blazes everything was. “Oh, genasai, y'are!” she exclaimed suddenly, getting some of it together. A 'faither,' she didn't know much – or seek out much – about the Inner Planes. That probably explained quite a bit. Every spellcaster 'knew' elementals were dumb, but learned ones knew they were merely confused by so much unfamiliarity. She started helping him out of his pack, pulling him onto his feet with his gear going nowhere, fast. “Though what breed y'are I can' tumble to. What in blazes're you doin' in Sigil?”
~
Peel you? Do you have layers? *at this point, he was just looking more confused, and not being much help in getting up. He poked her on the arm experimentally, then shrugged, and blinked again* That was an apple? The books clearly have them wrong. *he shook his head and tsk-tsked, as if dissapointed in the obviously (to him) dubious authors he'd been reading. So far, the books he'd read had been semi-helpful at best. Ah well. Suddenly, his mind registered what the nice woman that was actually helping him was saying...then his eyes widened..* OH! *his voice was still muffled...like sound didn't carry very well near him, any more than smells did. For that matter, the air was thinner around him too, like they were at the peak of a rather high mountain. In any case, he finally wiggled himself out of the straps of the backpack and let her help him up. He forgot the pack for a moment, shaking the hand he was still holding with his own, rather dry-skinned one..* Thank you! I'm Something. *he thought for a moment at what she'd said about him, then nodded* Yes. Genasi. If you knew where I'm from you wouldn't have to ask why I'm here. *he laughed, brightly* I'm from the Void, I think you call it here. *he took one look about himself..he couldn't help the look of utter amazement that crossed his features when he did so..then looked back to her again* You know, no matter how you put down that most of the multiverse is open space on paper...it doesn't seem quite the same when you actually look at most places in person. Do you realize how much....stuff you have around here? *he shook his head, as if being dumbfounded by the mere concept, his brain simply couldn't encompass all of it...* Er...are there rules about looking about as well? There's a lot of rules in this place I didn't know about. And..uh..shouldn't we be moving? I don't want to cause any more trouble. I sat in the wrong person's seat in a...*he paused, made a boxy-shaped motion with his hands, grasping for the word* Tavern? And let's just say the results were much worse than meeting you. *he looked quite somber about that...apparently it wasn't an experience he cared to repeat. He blinked, suddenly remembering the pack, and turned and knelt down..he reached into his pack, rummaged around in it for a minute..then closed it again and hefted it easily back onto his back where it belonged* So why are you in Sigil then, if you don't mind me asking? *he looked truly interested. Honestly, he didn't really know what most people did in Sigil. Maybe she had a better reason for being there than he did. Or at least, might have been involved in something that would be more interesting than aimless wandering. Besides, this was one of the first people he'd met that hadn't tried to beat the hell out of him or fleece him for reasons entirely beyond his ken. At least, not yet. He hadn't learned quite enough caution reguarding the plethora of beings in sigil..but he was definitely learning some, and mostly the hard way..*
~
“Layers? N', means bob, y'know, t'-”
“N', a road apple, a pile of pony sh-”
She could barely get in a word edgewise, as he kept bouncing back and forth like an excitable child from topic to topic, already confusing -her- in his own confusion. Finally, as he managed to speak on, she said, “You're name is -Somethin'-? Wha' kinda name is Somethin'?” And then, he mentioned the Void. Quasielemental Vacuum, to those more interested in <i>proper</i> planar terms. And while that certainly made a lot more sense now, she still couldn't help but be surprised about that. Her brows were both raised high on her forehead, and her eyes were wide as she studied this strange little creature before her. She actually believed him about the Void Genasi thing, mostly because he was exactly acting like someone who didn't know a d**n thing about anything. And she couldn't stop her mind from wandering a bit. Exactly what did a human being go and mate with on Quasielemental <i>Vacuum</i> to go and produce a genasi? And an even more perplexing question: what exactly was happening with human beings deciding to mate with anything that had remotely the correct parts? Fiends, of course, forced themselves on mortals all the time. And she could understand it with some celestials. But say a lupinal. Who wanted a furry wolf-man? And lillendi? How did human beings even make that happen? It was as if the entire race of men wandered the planes trying to get into the knickers of everything else.
Normally, Zevit would by now have told the genasi to go and pike himself, and she would have had he been any less genuinely naive. But it was hard to be upset with someone for whom <i>matter</i> was an alien concept. She said, “N', not rules per se, but jus' ways that people live. I'mean, I'dunno how to possibly explain this all t'ya. An',” she had been about to tell him about the pack, but he took care of that on his own. Zevit, meanwhile, wondered what in blazes she was going to do with him. He certainly didn't seem poor; his clothing was magnificent for someone with no cash. But what he was was...Clueless! Capital C clueless, clueless in a way she could not even comprehend. She imagined if she drank from the Styx it might be the same, on a bad day. Something changed directions yet again in his rambling, and she followed along, deciding it for the best. Her mandate was to help the poor and those in need, and while Something looked neither poor not hungry nor ill, he was as needy as an infant on her doorstep.
“Oh, aye. Alrigh', I -live- in Sigil. 's my homeberg,” she said. “An' here I work f'the Athar. I run a place for the poor an' ill an' hungry about two streets away, called the Hospice for the Needy'n'Destitute.” This was a bit inaccurate; a hospice was a place tended to by a religious order, and she had just claimed to be a Defier. “M'name's Zevit, Zevit <i>Tia'ves</i>.” The accents on the word were perfect Baatorian, spoken fluently. Of course that was lost on the elemental, but then, she spoke not his languages either, Common withstanding. And hers was as accented as it came. “An' wha' I was sayin' means I can at leas' try to get y'some place t'stay an' eat, but you're able-bodied, n'feeble, so I'll put y't'work, too. Help y'twig to livin' in a place tha' isn't a whole lotta nothin', Somethin'.” She grinned.
“An...don' try to eat road apples,” she added.
~
*Something listened to Zevit intently, his dark eyes squinting and brow furrowing. He nodded his head uncertainly at most of what she was saying, though it was pretty clear it was mostly flying right over his head, between his lack of understanding of half of what she was talking about and her....dialect. He was actively deciphering the words, then working on the deciphered words to try and figure out exactly what they meant. Still, he wasn't complaining. He suddenly brightened when something went by his ears that he understood, and he brightened* Ahhhhh....Ather. Interesting ideas on the powers. You'd think your founders had spent some time in my home. *he smiled, broadly..he could at least joke about where he was from.* Ah, I would be exceedingly in your debt if you would help. *no..he wasn't badly off at all as far as personal means went. He wasn't rich...far from it. There just wasn't much about him that required money. As such, he hadn't had to worry about it. He carried everything he had off his home plane, and just wandered around ever since. First, bumping into everything literally...then later, after his vision cleared up...bumping into everything logically in about the worst possible way.* Please, lead the way. And I'll keep not eating things completely out of my mind for the time being. *he smiled broadly again and nodded* Oh! And as far as work..I'm a bit of a mage if you have need of one. I can't create food or cure the sick or anything though. *he looked rather apologetic...and of course dubious that anything he could do would be of any use to her..but he laid it out on the table at least. If she was going to help him, the least he could do was offer to help her in return as he could..*
~
She was not about to debate the ideas of the Athar, since she was an athaon of the faction, and since as far as she knew, the genasi were rarely religious. It hardly mattered. She wasn't trying to recruit the young man as much as at least follow her conscience and help him somewhat; he had gully-mark practically tattooed across his forehead. He nodded in the right places, which suggested to her he was at least following along, and so she said, “Agh, 's what I do. Besides, don' take this the wrong way, bu' y'need every friend y'can get.” She stopped to think over what he had said about being a wizard, and while she didn't really need one, there was always a use for one. At worst, she could make some deals, getting him some gold for his talents, which would help them. “Don' worry 'bout it. Y'got two hands, y'can work. An' we'll get y'some real food.”
She began leading down the crowded streets, trying to hurry him along rather than indulge his idle curiosity. It was getting late, and if she had to feed and get a bed for him, Zevit wanted it done before antipeak. Of course, that was not to be.
About a block and a half from the hospice, she heard screaming and sobbing, shoulds of pain and fear mixed with someone's anguished wail. Zevit stopped short. These were -her- streets; this was -her- little corner of the Lower Ward, and while she was -no one- of any real legal importance, the tiefling had taken on many of the street people here as her wards. She said, “C'mon,” as she picked up to a jog, moving towards the sounds of the screaming.
~
*Something was indeed practically begging to have horrible things done to him in this city. Worse, he had no clue about that either. He followed along with Zevit, amiably..going wherever she was going was as good as staying right where he was far as he was concerned. Better, even, considering she seemed pretty nice.* No, no..I need friends, it's true. I'd like to get to talk to more people. *he nodded and smiled. Like everything else, there weren't many friends to be had in the Void. He of course tried to poke his nose into just about everything that struck him as odd..which was still just about everything..but he picked up the pace after the first few times he was prodded by Zevit.
He too stopped at the sounds of pain and anguish..even he knew what those were. What's more, he looked incredibly concerned..so when she told him to follow, he picked up his pace as well, rifling through the spells he knew in his head, and picking one out...just in case. There were lots of reasons why someone could be crying, of course..but that person sounded like they had been harmed. And he knew perfectly well that there were bad people that would be more than happy to hurt others--from personal, firsthand experience. If that happened to be what was happening right now, he decided to be prepared for it. He was completely unaware of much of the things in this plane around him...but he wasn't an idiot. His mind worked quite well actually. It could be quite easily to mistake one for the other though from an outside perspective..*
~
They rushed toward the scene. There, lying in blood, were two men, run through on the heavy pole-axes of a large band of nearly a dozen reptilian beasts in yellowing plates. The tiefling priestess, seeing them, snarled out, “Khaasta!” as they turned to meet this threat. The largest of them, in steel armor, snarled out in their language and elected three, who readied their weapons and wheeled toward this threat as the rest began a full retreat. They began rushing forward when Zevit heard the sounds of magic being worked by her ear. Immediately large strands of spider webbing engulfed one of the retreating khaasta as well as one of the ones moving toward them, but two remained. The tiefling had just enough wits to raise her own voice in a spell, reaching toward her belt for a small nail, when the lead one suddenly froze in his tracks. There was an armed human woman, a hideous thing with limp hair and a broken expression, bellowing out her rage, who charged the frozen khaasta and cut his throat with her blade before the other reached her. The two bound by the webs continued their struggle, straining; the former only entangled himself further. Meanwhile, the armed khaasta who was charging the woman caught her with his blade, batting her out of the way. She lay on the cobblestones with her leg laying at a strange angle, unmoving.
The khaasta raised its weapon to begin an advance on the two spellcasters. It never saw the blade, afire with holy wrath, come from above in a fierce dive down the center of its skull. It fell onto the winged warrior and knocked her down in its spasmodic death throes. The two remaining creatures were fighting the web. One, entirely entangled, was getting nowhere, but a second freed itself, snarling with hatred but seeing the battle clearly going poorly. It was wavering when there was no more option in its mind but to flee; whatever horrible incantation the magus was using was something it wanted no part of, nor of the terrifying celestial who smote its companion so effortlessly. Panicked, it turned to run for the open lanes of the city. Meanwhile, the tiefling began another spell, and at its completion, a glowing blade appeared at her side and flew for the creature as it raced down a side street away from the the holy knight. Catching the creature from behind, it caught it along the back, and wounded it terribly between its heavy plates, slowing it to a crawl. The conjured weapon, striking out again and again at the fleeing lizard-tyrrant, cut it down mercilessly. Meanwhile, the holy woman, laying her sword in arm's reach, drew her bow, nocked an arrow, and settled her aim over the trapped khaasta. Hopelessly ensnared, it let go of its weapon and declared, “I ssssurrendersss, I do! I no fightsss!” By now the athaon priestess, with her glowing, summoned sword, had joined up with the hallowed knight and the magus.
“Warrior, we'll get him to talk once I tend t'the wounded,” Zevit said calmly but with force; she was used to getting her way with her namers and didn't think anyone would object. Leaving her summoned weapon to back up the holy woman, she sprinted to the fallen woman to there administer her healing prayers.
~
Nadejda had reacted to the screams because it was her duty to do so. She had not been really on any errands and had not had anything else to do, so screams added a bit of a check mark to her day. It had been a simple matter of extending her wings and taking flight, the feathered appendages catching the wind and helped her ascend into the sky, her pale orbs shifting over the terrain below until she found the source of disturbance. It had only been a block away, but setting her self up higher not only gave her a keen view of the goings on, but also gave her the advantage of height plus the element of surprise. She had drawn her sword and dove, striking down the beast that was on a collision course with the two already in the fray. Standing upright she removed her sword from its skull and turned to face any new opponents to find that things were well under control from every other vantage point. A frown curved the woman’s heart shaped mouth downward at the corners, her eyes inspecting the beast she had killed and shook her head.
“Khaasta?” As the priestess spoke to her she swung her eyes up to meet the horned tiefling a silver brow rising on her forehead. She gave a retort in a tone that sounded more grumpy than anything, even if her voice was melodic as it spilled into the air. “I am Nadejda Tala . . . not Warrior, unless you prefer to call you tiefling . . . .” The brow smoothed out, but her expression didn’t change much, the woman’s wings trembling as she turned and moved to the still bound khaasta. It was obvious she was not going to trust the horned woman to do the interrogation, her beef with the race winning over for the moment. “What is your purpose here?” The question was a simple one and came out in a commanding and level pitch, those pale orbs like daggers as she studied the lizard looking creature before her. She couldn’t stand them, their chaotic nature and thirst for blood, money and destruction something that her lawful sense of spirit could not abide by. A dagger is slipped out of an unknown area, the blade shifting dangerously close to the beast’s throat as she studied it, those white feathers shaking as if she were excited. “I have no qualms with killing you . . . but it will not be quick if you lie to me. You do not need all these scales . . . .” The large azure orbs narrow in a cold manner as she watched the beast closely, waiting to see if it was going to talk, or try something.
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #1 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:05am » | |
*As usual..Something pretty much had not a d**n clue as to what was going on. All he knew was that people were hurt, and it had to stop one way or the other. This is why he'd sprung into action so quickly. He hadn't once tried to actually harm anyone, just immobilize them until they could figure out what was going on. When the Asimaar flew in...a being he could deduce the identity of, even if he hadn't ever seen one before..he pretty much gathered that the lizards must have been the bad guy. He'd gotten the sense that Zevit had simply reacted to being attacked...which they did of course after he'd webbed them. This was a natural reaction on their part, so he hadn't been entirely certain who was what and where up until that point. He came to the proper conclusion, it just went the long way 'round, in short. In the meantime, he'd just debilitated and let the others figure out what was what. If they happened to be mistaken...well, it was on their--presumably more knowing--heads to live with the consequences.
After the fighting had died down...in a rather spectacular fashion no less...he looked around..his eyes passing over the injured people concernedly, glad Zevit was tending to them..then over the Asimaar, examining her a little more thoroughly...then finally to the still-trapped lizard-being whose race he hadn't as of yet deduced. On a hunch though, he tried draconic...speaking almost idly in its direction..* If you don't talk in ten seconds I'll start turning bits of you inside-out. Don't worry, I'll leave the bits that talk. *He smiled brightly, then let his eyes continue on...for the time being, he was pretty sure that webbing was between them and wherever the other lizard-people had run off to..but all the same, he decided it was best to keep an eye out for them in case they might return. Preferably with his back against something solid--where someone couldn't sneak up and put something pointy in it. He might have been clueless about most things, but he was perfectly aware of what a good blade would do to him.*
~
“Oh, aye, Miss High'n'mighty, I s'ppose y'had y'name tattooed to y'forehead an' I'm jus' too illiterate t'read it,” she hissed out; their races were natural rivals, often antagonists. Pampered celestials, given everything by everyone whereas she had to scratch and scrimp to get a token of respect. Zevit -already- had the horrible feeling she was going to wind up blamed for this, at least initially, by the Hardheads when they got around to patrolling here. IF they got to it. This was working folks' homes, and if one didn't have enough gold, the Harmonium basically didn't try too hard. She thought the question of 'role' had been directed to her. “M'role? These're m'streets, an' my people, an' I am na gonna stan' an' watch this happen t'em.”
She was already kneeling at the side of the wounded woman by the time she finished her rant, swiftly producing her small obsidian shard she used as a meditative focus. To her, it was holy – though Defier, she needed a focus, and the rock did fine. “Omnipoten' power, creator, through thy lowest s'rvant, bring thy gif' of life,” she intoned while reaching out for the fallen woman. The wounded warrior watched with open eyes as a soft glow settled over the tiefling's hands. She reached for the fallen woman, lay her hands upon her, and slowly blood stopped flowing, flesh knit, and bone regrew. The dark-skinned woman gasped at the healing. (Dump a Glyph for CSW)
Zevit was too occupied to hear the paladin threaten to Khaasta, or to listen to Something's response. As soon as the fallen woman was tended, she gathered up her supplies and ran toward the other fallen men, leaving that warrior to rise. The first she stopped to take a pulse; finding none, she pressed her ear to his mouth to feel a breath. With none felt, she closed his eyes, then dashed off for the next one.
The Khaasta was frightened enough already, and it did not need some wispy mage speaking in unknown tongues to be intimidated. “I yieldsss, I doesss. I here. Bossss sssendsss usss to findsss hiss beautiesss. He takesss the beautiesss away! Bossss is kingsss, comesss ssstone 'sssity' for beautiessss.”
Given the -ugliness- imposed on the woman who was rising, not to mention the corpses, there seemed little doubt of that.
~
When the magus started speaking Draconis she turned her head towards him, those infinite pools sizing him up quietly as if assessing what he was and why he was here. There would be scales in that look and Something might get the impression he was being strip searched, his clothes taken and plopped down on the giant balance to see if he would be something to trust . . . or kill. Their eyes almost contrasted each other’s perfectly, the gaze set on his obsidian holes, threatening to consume him with each passing second. They didn’t stay long, her natural alertness sending the pale blue irises back to the beast before her. To the Tiefling’s words she said absolutely nothing, her mind already made up which side of the scales Zevit sat, though her healing the fallen woman was a curiosity to the Paladin. It was something she would have to deal with later, at the moment she was studying the lizard and he became her main focus.
His words hissed out made her full lips purse in anger, the woman’s eyes turning frigid as she studied him, the dagger edging closer as he spoke. “Beauties . . . like this woman here?” Her free hand motioned to the warrior the tiefling had just healed, her head tilting to the side as her voice became something akin to silk. That is if silk were draped over a sword that was embedded in a mountain range, but none the less it was quiet melodic. “Or like me?” The sound was not so nice anymore, the woman’s white blue eyes glaring at the lizard as she continued. “You mentioned taking them . . . where are you taking these beauties?” She fell silent then, waiting for the reptile to catch up with her questions.
~
*Something hardly noticed that the Asimaar was looking at him...he'd already surmised that she was safer than those lizard-people that had run off, and as such he was watching for them, not watching her. It never occurred to him that she might help him and Zevit..then turn on them subsequently. He did pay attention to what the lizard-person had to say..and came to a much different conclusion about what the lizard had said. Maybe the lizards weren't taking the people....just their beauty. The evidence was right there under Zevit's healing hands. It didn't look like they were taking off with that woman, just...defacing her. Not caring if that happened to kill her in the process. He couldn't perform any healing to help the wounded...and he wasn't a thug like the Asimaar..so he left his keen eyes to do what they could, continuing to watch for the arrival of more problems. When there weren't any in immediate evidence, he fiddled with the ring on his right hand and squinted a bit, drawing his dark eyes carefully and methodically across all the nearby buildings one by one..*
~
The khaasta hissed, saying, “Like -any!- Bosssssesss ordersss, we takesssess the beautiesss an' goesss, tha'sss all!” The paladin suggested herself, and the tiefling, trying very hard not to roll her eyes back <i>too</i> far, was glad the pampered princess wasn't able to see her expression. Besides, she had two dead at the moment, and one she now recognized. “Oh, Devonu,” she mumbled, not looking forward to delivering the news already as she closed his eyes.
“Where? Bassss, I no sayss, I no sayssss! You no do worsssesss than bosssesss doessss if I speakessses.”
“Oh, yes, our -beauty-!” said the woman, rising now to her feet. Her lips were curled in an expression of fury, but somehow, none could really find her the least bit interesting at the moment. There was a dangerous expression in her eyes, and she said, “Let me at him. By the cadence, I'll get back what he stole!” She was approaching, hands balled in fists of rage. Something's assumption proved right.
He also got a few eyefulls of things going on that he really didn't need to see in people's houses, but there was no sign of the Khaasta band.
Rising, the priestess waited. The warrior women – both of them – were too angry for her to try a more subtle technique yet, and with the aasimar all but screaming 'fiendling' at her, she was hesitant. But she was already mentally preparing. If one had to be cursed with Baatorian blood, at least it had a few advantages, and overthrowing this thing's mind would not be too difficult.
She hoped.
Finally, she spoke up. “Oi, lemee loosen his tongue up.” She was stepping forward, but if checked, wasn't about to brawl over rights to the lizard.
~
The paladin had not seen the woman before her beauty was taken and hell . . . they were lizard men . . . what did they know about beauty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all and she could not see through their eyes to tell what exactly they thought was good looking. To her, she only saw what was in front of her at the moment, and that was a lot of death involving innocence and it didn’t matter if they were ugly or not. She completely missed the tiefling’s expression and after apparently determining which category Something sat in, she did not look back at him either. She did however turn the piercing gaze to the woman who was approaching the lizard and shook her head, those strong wings extending as if vexed. “Please calm down. What did he take from you?” Again, not having seen the warrior woman before hand, she had no idea that she had not been this ugly prior to her encounter with the lizard men and thus she was quite innocent in her asking, the tone of her voice shifting from cold as steel to as soft as a foxes fur. The beast spoke up however and denied her answers, the woman’s eyes narrowing menacingly but again she was interrupted, this time by the tiefling. Nadej was not about to get into a fight with the lower creature, in fact she did not really wish to respond to her at all. Her heart shaped mouth twisted as if she had tasted something bad and turning she strolled away from the lizard and towards the scene of carnage, her eyes going over what had happened quietly.
~
*As his eyes scanned through the houses, they stopped on more than one occasion. Once, for almost a full minute, his head tilting slightly to the side in confused interest. Finally he continued his looking, however and then fiddled with the ring again, blinking for a moment as if he had something in his eye. His eyes went to the Asimaar as she walked away from the lizard, and he smiled at her rather cheerfully* Thank you for the help. I'm sure once she is done with that lizard, the..uh...peeled is it? *he tilted his head slightly to the side, trying to recall the Sigilian lingo Zevit had used earlier..then just shrugged and carried on...* anyway, that lady I mean....will be at least as grateful. *he gestured toward the rather upset Transcendant and smiled* And here I had the inkling Zevit meant robbery when she said that earlier. This place is meaner than I thought. In any case, I'm Something. *he nodded and smiled...but he didn't allow his eyes to linger terribly long on Nadejda. Frankly, given the interaction between her and Zevit, he didn't really expect a response that would be particularly good-natured...if he got one at all anyway. He was rather interested to see what Zevit had up her sleeve for the lizard. Somehow he suspected she was practiced at this sort of business, and he wasn't..so no time like the present to learn.*
~
The woman advanced swiftly, and she said, “This piking maggot took my <i>beauty!</i>” she snarled. And somehow, it was utterly impossible to really care that she was snarling. The venomous, even murderous, look in her eyes was just not interesting enough to take any notice of. Who would want to look at such an utterly <i>plain</i> creature? She was the least interesting person in the entire multiverse, after all. No one, and that is absolutely no one, could really pay her any mind now that her wounds were healed. Even as she reached for the being, snarling that she would kill him where he stood if he moved, it was pure apathy on everyone's part.
Until she removed the glowing, beautiful jar of burnished gold from the thing's pouches. Then, suddenly, every heart wanted it. Every living thing in a city block stared at the jar with fascinated eyes, drawn to it, hands making subtle gestures of acquisition. Had the woman not opened it then and there, a riot would have begun on the spot, so great was the longing in the secret parts of every creature that saw that brilliant gem. The sensation faded, instantly. So, too, did the veil of apathy from the woman. She was not homely anymore; granted, she wasn't about to make an Arborean poet sing of her looks, but she was hardly the troll she had been a minute ago.
The Khaasta, afraid of the consequences, looked visibly <i>relieved</i> when this happened.
“Wha' in Hells jus' happened?” Zevit asked. She ignored the Princess' scornful little look and was angry with herself for taking it personally. If a grown adult had to act like that, that didn't mean -Zevit- had to do it.
“I told you! The pikers, they steal -beauty- from people!” the woman said. Her voice was strong, no longer a snarl. “And not just me! The bastards, anyone they do this to, suddenly, no one can twig to them. It's like you're just, just an untouchable. People stop caring about you, entirely. And they obsessed over the jars they put them in. They've been content to go after bubbers in the Lower Ward an' the Hive, mostly. Find some berk looks nice, jack him on the spot. Deadbook him if he tries to fight. Not many do. There's a lot of 'em. But living with not a single body seein' anything of worth to you – I said I'd get this back or be dead m'self first.”
“Aye, I...sorta...see,” Zevit said. She realized right away Beauty, more than skin deep, would mean more than mere 'looks.' So the device stole -everything- that made people attracted to each other. That made friends. That made family. “So it, well, leaves a body pretty much...” Something was making nice with the Princess, which she supposed was fine with her. Something was easy to like; if he kept Princess out of her way, she might get something done.
“Y'know how a Dustie looks at a zombie? 'Bout like that, from everyone,” the woman said.
Unguarded, the lizard began to twitch. Zevit turned back to the Khaasta, now focusing on it. She began to speak, her words becoming more and more rhythmic by the second. Something flashed in her eyes, their color becoming just a bit luminescent as the creature met her gaze. “Hardheads are comin' t'scrag you t'the Prison. No boss is coming t'help. You're in the blin's...”
“I'm in the blin'sssdesss...” the creature repeated. His tone was mechanical.
“Why don' y'tell me where y'boyos be?” (Suggestion spell-like)
“The great Tree...” he said, “...we takesssesss a portal Out to the landsssesss, an' we huntessses in the city by darkess.”
The spell broken with his compliance, the Khaasta said no more.
~
The Khaasta, now guarded only by Zevit and the woman, who was distracted with looking normal again, seized its chance. There was no way a five foot tiefling was going to stop a massive Khaasta in armor when it bowled her over, and Zevit was too busy fumbling for her dagger to protect herself to fight the beast. With onlookers around, shooting was unwise; it was soon charging through the crowd and racing off into Sigil.
Not about to chase it and fall prey to ambush by the remaining Khaasta, Zevit decided it was better to get her bashers ready to take on this threat. The Khaasta had all-but-admitted they would be back tomorrow night. She picked herself up from the cobblestones, grateful she had just BARELY missed being thrown onto the road apple Something had been so caught up in a moment ago, and called out to the magus. “Oi! Something, let's get the pike ou' here. Sooner or later – an' probably much later, since there be no jink in it for them – the Hardheads'll be aroun' asking questions. An' I'd rather talk to them where they can' just put me down 'cause they feel like it. 'Sides, I'd rather not hang 'round if they're gonna be in the streets t'night, an' maybe we go figure ou' what they're about in the day, aye?”
She did stop to check the Khaasta for valuables, of course.
Swallowing -considerable- pride, she said to the aasimar, “Alrigh', look, Princess, I don' know who y'are, but I d'owe y'somethin' for the help back there, an' there's some safety in numbers. Me an' m'cutters 'ave a place, a hospice, which we run 'bout two blocks from 'ere. Crash there; y'wanna know 'bout scaly-arse back there, I'll give y'what chant I picked up.”
She led them back to a long, tall building with no architectural charm; it was a rectangular box with windows. The crimson sign said the, 'Hospice for the Needy and Destitute,' and the door was painted with the Athar symbol. She led them into this, clearing them with the guards (who gave her the rank of Athaon), and moved them upstairs. Much of the Hospice was full of the wounded or sick, tended to as best as possible by the five clerics on hand, and eleven warriors guarded them from the street people. There were five floors; Zevit let them up to the second, finding a mostly-empty room like a large barracks where they could rest. The beds were decidedly lower-class, but clean; it was the best one might hope for in a cash-strapped house of healing.
“We'll talk on the 'morrow,” Zevit said, leaving them to rest, before she took the locked stairs back up to the top floor.
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #2 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:06am » | |
When Something followed behind her and began speaking she glanced at him in a quiet manner, her eyes not holding an ounce of animosity. “You are quite welcome.” She said in the same dulcet tones, her full lips turning into something of a smile, though it would never reach her eyes fully. She studied him quietly as he spoke, her eyes never returning to the tiefling, the serene pools staying focused on this new puzzle. And, he was a puzzle to her, something she had not figured out. Nadej didn’t understand half of what he was talking about, her body squatting easily as her hand moved over the ground, observing the area for a moment before she extended her body upright again, her wings fluttering slightly to remove any dirt that had gotten on the tips when she knelt. “Something . . . .” She let her tongue roll the word around and she nodded her head, the same semi-smile returning to the supple flesh of her mouth as she responded quietly. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Nadejda.” She had already given her name, but she felt it customary to extend it to him specifically, earlier it had been for the horned woman. The exchange between the ugly woman and the tiefling was observed, but from the corner of her eye, her head turning to the crowd as they began to close in . . . the ruckus caused by the fight and the aftermath more than the bystanders could resist. After all, fights were a source of entertainment as long as they were not involved. She had not seen the jar, the essence inside getting the crowd riled up however and she stepped forward to box some skulls if it were needed. Everything was over in an instant however and the stragglers seemed to calm down immediately when the woman regained her beauty. Even if she had not seen the display, the aasimar had heard the conversation and had picked up what was happening through using her attention for detail.
She did not miss the big lizard escaping, that was for sure, but she had moved far enough away to prevent him from getting away. A gentle sigh escapes her lips, those pale orbs moving from the crowd where the Khaasta had flown to the tiefling on the ground. A thin brow slinks upwards on her smooth forehead, the look conveying more than words could ever conjure up. It said something like this, “I knew this would happen if I left you in charge of the beast. I should never have allowed you to interfere.” Still, no words would be uttered to the woman and she did not offer to help her up. There was little use, she had arms and legs and they did not appear to be broken. As Zevit stood the paladin turned her head to the woman who was now not so ugly. She wanted to help this woman and all those whose essence was being torn from their bodies, even if this meant working with the hellish creature. True, she had gathered a bit of information from the critter, but that information was no use if they had no idea where this Great Tree was. They came through a portal? Well that was obvious, Khaasta made a game out of finding portals and it wasn’t as if Sigil was short on the gateways. Especially ones that were there one minute and gone the next, ones that sprung up randomly, ones that had yet to be found by anyone, and one never knew where they would lead. If you went through a portal one day and tried the next day it might take you to some where else entirely. It seemed a needle in a haystack and the tiefling had allowed their only hope of finding this Great Tree escape. Another deep exhale is given as the tiefling’s main concern was leaving before they were arrested, not the loose beast and not the woman who had been traumatized. That and she began riffling through the lizard’s belongings. There was a time and a place for everything and Nadej did not approve of the timing on the she devil’s part.
Zevit’s words to Something fell on the aasimar’s ears and she turned her eyes to the strange man, her head shaking a bit and her full lips turned downward into the slope of a frown. So he was actually with the part demon? It couldn’t be helped, turning she moved towards the woman who had been a victim, her eyes looking down at her before she spoke. “I am sorry you had to go through that, I will make sure this stops, you have my word.” Giving a small bow at the waist she began moving out of the alley when she was addressed. The title she had been given made her eyes narrow, even if the tiefling couldn’t see her expression, and before she had rotated around to cast an icy stare at the woman, her features were void of any emotion. “I have already given you my name. There are many I could give you that I am sure you would not approve of. I assume you understand the concept of respect and if you will extend that kindness to me, I shall to you.” She fell silent then, her voice just as detached as her expression as she studied the woman, listening to her proposal. The frigid gaze moved from her, to Something and she nodded her head in agreement. “Very well, since you understand what is going on as well, there is no harm in us seeing this thing through.” There was something unsaid but it was left alone, her eyes closing then and her body began to change slightly. The full wings began to shrink somehow, slowly inching inward as if they were being sucked into her back. After a few moments the last of the feathers disappeared beneath her skin and the cloak she was wearing, no longer barred by bone and fluff, fell across her shoulders hiding her exposed flesh. She did not seem as if anything were out of the ordinary, an arm extending as if to say “You first” with out doing so, there was no way she was letting the tiefling walk behind her. When the woman moved out of the alley she followed quietly, her gate matching whatever pace Zevit set, her eyes roaming over the crowd with a hint of suspicion as they traversed the crowded streets of the Lower Ward. When they arrived at the hospice she did not say anything to the humble origins of the building, simply entered and waited in silence as everything was taken care of. A frown stayed pressed on her full lips, her eyes moving over the sick and wounded quietly and she felt compelled to help. With that many clerics on hand it was clear that things were taken care of and there was little aid she could lend to them. Instead she followed the woman up the stairs, her eyes always scanning doorways and constantly looking behind her as if she expected an ambush any second. The room she was led to would be where the man slept also and she blinked, her frown growing. It would be clear she would get no sleep this night . . . she would rest, but not let her self slip into slumber. She did not thank Zevit, nor did she say goodnight as the woman left, instead she busied herself with one of the beds on the far end of the room, fluffing the pillows as best she could and testing the mattress.
~
*Something was quite interested in the interaction between Zevit and Nadejda and even the crazy woman with the self-esteem issues. He didn't say much, he just watched with interest. He seemed quite pleased that Nadejda wasn't quite as pregnant dogy toward him as she'd been toward Zevit at least. Not exactly the reception he'd grown to expect in Sigil from anyone. When it came time to leave, he followed right along with Zevit..he'd actually found people who didn't try to pummel him right away, and he wasn't about to give that up too quickly. Besides...he didn't much like the idea of people stealing beauty and these two women seemed to want to put a stop to it. It wasn't even as if he had a problem with the stealing beauty part, per se. Just the stealing part. To him, stealing something like beauty was no more bizarre than say...doorknobs or eating. It was just the stealing part he didn't' much approve of.
When they arrived..he peered around, and actually wandered off, as he was wont to do. It took being chased off by an irritated cleric while he was poking at a sick kid, for him to get back on track. He certainly didn't seem to take any issue with the run-down building. He had no basis for comparison. It didn't seem so aesthetically pleasing as some he'd seen already, but he certainly didn't consider himself a particularly brilliant judge of architecture either.
On the same token, he wasn't bothered by the bedding arrangements. Just..confused. He stared at the bed he was allotted..poked at the pillow once or twice, before picking it up. He turned it over a couple of times, examining it..then peered over his shoulder to observe the Asimaar. Seeing what she was doing, he tried fluffing the pillow as well..then grinned, as if rather pleased with himself..and replaced the pillow right where it was. He pulled the covers on the bed back, growing a little bolder, and peeked under them..then pushed down on the bed itself. Finally apparently satisfied it wasn't going to eat him, he sat himself down on the edge of the bed and slid his pack off his back. He then slid back on the bed, leaning his back against a wall, bouncing along as he did so. This gave him a start..which, after he recovered from, gave him a grin. He tried bouncing a few more times. This was enough to amuse him for a good ten minutes. He apparently didn't have the first idea as to what the hell a bed was really for. Nor did he bother asking Nadejda. For the time being, he was plenty occupied with bouncing around on the bed. Eventually, he'd grow tired of this and likely settle in to sleep...clothes, shoes, and all..still leaning against the wall. Not exactly comfortable, but nothing really was for him in this place anyway. Everything was constant adjustment and acclimation for him..*
~
The paladin seemed the epitome of patience and stillness. Not once during the short journey from the scene of death to the hospice did she seem to react to the tiefling’s mood, nor did she pay much attention to the goings on around her. Or at least, she was not letting it affect her. Only inside the hospice did she remotely show feeling and it was towards the sick and injured. When Something began prodding people she shook her head, the smooth brow furrowing as if in vexation. She did not realize just how out of touch the man was and it left little doubt in her mind that he was a creature that needed to have an eye kept on him . . . probably two eyes depending on the situation. How could doing a good deed land her in such a predicament? It was a question she could not answer and did not see any sort of light in sight. In fact, the only thing she saw in the future was more headaches. After the tiefling had left the room, Nadej didn’t seem to worry as much, or at least she relaxed enough to sit down on the bed. She had been checking it for traps, spells or any other sort of badness that the tiefling might have left for them inside this room. For anyone with any sense of the world, they would realize she did not trust Zevit farther than she could throw her . . . which could be a considerable distance . . . so she probably trusted her less than the distance she could toss her. To her, the horns said it all, not to mention the faint smell of brimstone when she was fuming earlier over whatever she had been in a tiff about. Whatever it was, it did not concern Nadej, she only wanted to get to the bottom of the transgressions and give those who had their beauty stolen back. She would have to stomach the tiefling and try to understand Something in the meantime, a prospect that left her exhaling in a large sigh.
When Something started bouncing on the bed her eyes went to him, a slender brow rising on the milky skin and she shook her head with out saying anything. He was like a child really, so innocent in his behavior and she wondered what plane he was from. It was obvious he was not a local . . . and while Nadej had not grown up in Sigil, she had been there long enough to know the dos and don’t of the Cage and its different wards. For instance, do not get involved in factions. Lady Pain had pretty much taken away all their power in one swoop of her pointed finger, they had to abandon or die, some left Sigil all together, some disbanded and those that remained were just hollow shells of what their factions used to be. Nadej wanted no part of being struck down by Lady Pain and thus she stayed out of such affairs. She also avoided the Hive if she could, the villainy of that section of Sigil was enough to keep any Paladin busy for the rest of their life and the overload of their personal code being broken might make their head explode. She also stayed clear of beings she knew in her heart were evil . . . like tieflings . . . and thus she felt an obligation to warn this new comer of such things. Shifting on the bed she turned her body to face the genasi, those pale orbs moving over his body as he began to calm down from the ride he created with the bed. “Forgive my ignorance Something, but what plane are you from?” Her head tilted to the side, the mass of silver silk falling over her shoulder and down along her jaw line with the gesture. The heart shaped mouth would turn into the same curve that hinted a smile as she waited for him to reply . . . or fall asleep.
~
*Something turned a bit in his bed, and moved his sooty-dark eyes to focus on Nadejda when she spoke. He had a broad smile on his face..the sort of expression that only someone with absolutely no concerns on their mind could ever possibly create. The sort of expression that utterly didn't belong on anyone's face in that quarter of Sigil. He didn't have anything to hide, it didn't even take him but a moment to reply to her in that oddly muffled voice of his..* I'm from the Plane of Vacuum. The Void, as it's sometimes known. *suddenly his lips pulled back into a grin...his dark eyes sparkling amusedly* So, forgive my ignorance. *he laughed..even his laugh was slightly muffled. Sound didn't seem to travel quite right around him. It was as if he carried a little bit of his home-plane around with him in his pocket.* So where are you from, if you don't mind me prying? Zevit's from here, she says...I haven't been here long, but it seems fairly improbable to me already that I'd meet two people in the same day from here that weren't saying 'hello' just to get close enough to try and pummel me or try and take my possessions, or some combination of the two. *he shrugged and smiled..he didn't look to be in that bad a shape..so maybe thus far those people he referred to hadn't been terribly successful. He might have been completely and utterly clueless, after all..but not defenseless. Unfortunately, some people couldn't mark the difference.*
~
She did not seem concerned with the gaze he gave her, the innocence in that expression touching her very foundation. This was a being that was completely clueless in this plane of existence and she felt compelled to help him. His words were contemplated in silence, only a single silver brow lifting as she listened, her own curiosity prodded. She had never met anyone from the Void and it was interesting to see this Genasi out of his realm. “There is no need to apologize for things you have not experienced. After all, our past is what makes us, our experiences shape us and our spirit makes us whole.” The partial smile continued on its upward curve until it became something akin to a real smile, though it still never touched her icy blue eyes. When he pointed the question back at her she gave a soft chuckle that held no mirth, her head shaking and sending the silver tresses sliding over her armor. “I am a half breed . . . I am part celestial . . . part human . . . I was not born in Sigil if that is what you mean. But, it has become a sort of home for me. If any place like the Cage could ever be considered ‘home’.” It was an answer to the question, perhaps not the specific one he wanted. But, she paused for a moment as if trying to explain something to a child with out using to grand of an explanation. “Zevit . . . yes . . . well it is a good thing she did not try anything with you . . . .” She wanted to say a bit more, but reading his face told her he probably would not understand anyhow. Instead she pushed forward in the conversation. “I am sorry you had to be exposed to that element of the city . . . there are others here who would not like to see you harmed. You should learn a bit more about the wards and which ones to steer clear of.” A gentle smile takes over her lips now, and some how it did touch her eyes, if only for a moment. “I will protect you if needed Something and explain things that need explaining if you would like.” At that moment, Nadej had absolutely no idea what she was getting herself into.
~
*Something, if anything, managed to smile a bit wider, and nodded* Thank you, I appreciate the offer. If I have any questions, I'll ask. *he tilted his head slightly to the side slightly for a moment, thoughtfully* Yes, you're an Asimaar...and she is a tiefling...which is why you dislike her. It's practically famous. I don't think she's as bad as you might think though. I can't think of anything she would have to gain by helping those people back there, for example. I would think an evil being would have killed everyone present..including the lizardmen and the injured people..then left with everything she could carry. Maybe her heritage doesn't make her who she is. You said it's people's history that makes them what they are...I don't think you mentioned anything about their blood, hmm? *he smiled, and nodded* In any case I'd like to think I could grow beyond what I was born as one day..maybe even figure out how this thing is properly used. *he poked at the bed he was still sitting on, fully clothed, like it might bite him..then looked back to the paladin and smiled again. It was really quite bizarre, actually..he knew lots about some things..but not others. He knew what the woman sitting before him was, for example. But not what the thing he was sitting on was. It was about backward..normal, everyday things utterly dumbfounded him, but he had a lot of knowledge collected about the planes and their major species. Being what he was, half-breeds like himself were of special interest too of course.*
~
A gentle incline of her head towards him was the only answer she gave to being thanked, humble even in that area of her life. But, as he began spouting knowledge about the tiefling, the smile on her lips receded and became just the hint again, all warmth gone from her azure orbs. His words touched her ears and while she listened quietly and most of it had merit, she could not bring herself to believe any tiefling was anything but evil at their root. After all, it was in their nature, she had never met a ‘good’ tiefling before in her life and while she did not think he would understand why she personally disliked them, she did not want to go into why he shouldn’t. They were not trustworthy and it was a point that would take a lifetime to explain . . . or one experiencing it first hand as she had. “We shall see . . . .” Was all she said in response to Zevit, her voice displaying the hint of that line of conversation over, but she chuckled when he poked the bed. Standing she moved over to where he was propped up, her head shaking and she motioned to the mattress. “It is for sleeping on a more comfortable palate so you do not have to rest on the hard ground. It is only an aid to help one rest comfortably. It is a bit elevated so you do not have to pick yourself up off the ground, but merely stand up. The pillow is to keep your head resting at a higher angle than the mattress so you do not get a crick in your neck from the odd position your neck would be in.” She tried to explain everything to an extent he would understand, her smile never fading as she finished up her lesson. “These are called blankets and you use them to cover up so you do not get cold.”
~
*Something shrugged at the conclusion of the tiefling topic. Really, it was all elementary to him..he didn't much care what Nadejda thought..she could think what she liked. In fact, as far as he was concerned she could be correct in her suspicions and Zevit might be evil as a pit-fiend and he still wouldn't have cared. So long as Zevit was causing good, that was all that mattered to him, no matter what her actual intentions or demeanor might be. Morality for him was as simple as he saw most of the rest of the world about him.
He got up when she walked over, turning around to look at the bed as she demonstrated its use. He nodded in understanding..right up until the last point* Okay...so, you sleep on it on your stomach or your back, then..flat. *this all seemed completely and utterly bizarre to him, as evidenced by the look on his face* And it's soft so it's comfortable, because of all this gravity. But..why would you get cold while sleeping? *he turned his head from the bed to Nadejda, raising a brow slightly* Do most people get colder while they rest? I wasn't aware of this. *he shook his head, looking rather amazed..such strange people, these beings that had so much. It made everything so incredibly complicated. But, he was beginning to think that was all because the people were so incredibly complicated themselves. Maybe they made their cities and their social structures in their own image, without even realizing it..*
~
His question left her chuckling softly, her head shaking and she closed her eyes for a moment before she tried to explain. “Not generally. Sleeping does not make one cold, but the temperature of where they are sleeping can be cold. Even when it is not cold people use them to cover up their bodies out of habit or modesty. Also, some beings are cold natured and when the temperature drops at night, they become colder because of this change in the atmosphere its self.” She was trying to sell simple concepts that were difficult because Something had never experienced them. How could she tell him why, in some places, the temperature would drop to being cold when the sun or suns went down? If he had never seen such a thing happen or experienced it . . . well it was hard to tell him. She had only touched on modesty and she was not even sure if he understood the concept at this point. Though, she was not about to demonstrated why she would cover up in a night gown with him in the room . . . because that situation would never occur. Instead she fell silent, her eyes turning to him as if waiting for the whole clarification to backfire in her face again.
~
*Something again listened attentively..nodding his head to her explenations* Ahh, I see. So the coverings are for if clothing isn't enough to keep people warm while they are sleeping, if it gets cold. *This seemed quite silly to him, but he didn't show it on his face..he didn't want to offend. If that was their custom, that was their business. Who was he to judge? To him it seemed simpler to just fashion clothing that was warm enough in the first place, but they seemed to like things good and complicated.
He climbed back onto the bed and situated himself face-down on it, arms and legs akimbo. It looked not at all comfortable, the position he was in. Still, he didnt' complain. He didn't know any better. Face-in-pillow like that, most people would probably suffocate. He turned his head to the side and smiled* So, like this? I suppose this is better than being on the floor, indeed. Thank you for the explenation, Nadejda. I don't think I'll be needing the coverings though. This place is incredibly warm. *he nodded and smiled* So I suppose we had better rest, then. You've a long day of explaining how the world works to me tomorrow. And maybe stopping more thieves. Don't want them getting the upper hand next time. Unless you have something else you'd like to talk about? *he waited for a moment, just to make sure she didn't..before stuffing his face back into the pillow. He didn't bother getting under the covers, he seemed to be fine just the way he was. At least he didn't disrobe beforehand..*
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #3 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:08am » | |
As she anticipated, the backfire occurred and she was helpless to prevent it. She shook her head, mind rolling over just how she was going to explain that people generally didn’t sleep in all their clothes . . . or in any. She would not be disrobing this night either, nor would she take off her armor . . . being that she wanted to make sure she was prepared if the tiefling decided to slit their throats during the night. Instead she watched him as he laid down in the haphazard position, her brows furrowing in defeat and she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that was not at all how it was done . . . at least not at first. After a long stretch of silence from the woman she finally smiled at Something, touching his shoulder gently as she motioned for him to stand. “No, no . . . this is a bit harder to explain than I would have imagined. Generally . . . people do not wear much in the way of clothes when sleeping. We have what is called . . . night clothes or small clothes. These are garments worn to bed to sleep in. They are generally less restricting and more comfortable than bulky every day wear. But, usually they are thinner and cover less than . . . well normal clothing. Hence why some get chilled at night and the need for the blanket to be descent.” She hoped that helped a bit . . . but she was sure it probably would just make him more confused with the way things had already been going.
If he would stand up and let her demonstrate, she would climb into the bed gracefully, her body laid down on its side to face him, her head propped up perfectly by the pillow and she grasped the edge of the blanket pulling it over her figure. “This is how many people lay down to rest. Because, most people need to breath and stuffing one’s face into a pillow makes it very difficult to breathe.” She was again, trying to explain something that was foreign to him and probably made no sense what so ever. A wince inwardly would be given at his comment about her explaining the world to him tomorrow . . . and now she almost regretted speaking at all.
~
*Something blinked at Nad when she explained that he wasn't doing it exactly right. He nodded in understanding about the breathing thing..he didn't do that much, so he hadn't really considered it prior. Both of his brows rose at the idea that people slept without their clothes on though..* Hmm. Well, I can see how your armor and everything would be uncomfortable to sleep in with all this gravity and the hard floors and such, I suppose. *he nodded, and rolled off the bed at her prodding, watching as she demonstrated a more proper posture and usage of the coverings...* So, clothes are for modesty..as are coverings. Coverings are also for keeping proper body temperature because people don't sleep in beds with their clothes on, because clothes are uncomfortable to sleep in. *he was ticking things off on his fingers* You don't sleep on your face, because people usually breathe and the...pillow? Would kill them otherwise. *he nodded and beamed a smile at the poor paladin that had taken it upon herself to explain these things to him..* Thank you very much for your clarification. This bed is much less of a mystery to me now. Though it is all rather complicated, isn't it? *he shrugged and smiled..then promptly disrobed. This process, unfortunately, didn't take long..considering all he was wearing was his robes, and underneath was absolutely nothing. He, unlike many people, didn't have any use for such coverings..where he was from, it was a helluva lot colder than it ever got in Sigil. As such, his clothing was more simply just to have pockets to put things in. And as far as clothing went..his was quite modest too. At least, until he took it off. Now, crazy as his appearance might have been..all of the parts were actually there underneath his clothing. He wasn't unashamed simply because there wasn't anything to see..it was more like he was unashamed simply because he'd never been around hardly anyone else in most of his existance. He'd just done as he'd observed the Sigilians do, followed their custom, and clothed himself. To make matters worse, it seemed he took the advice on modesty to heart too and lifted the covers..sliding himself into the bed, whether she was still in there or not. He assumed the same sort of posture she just had and smiled wide* How is this? I'm usually a fairly quick learner. *he nodded and smiled matter-of-factly. He was......he just had a ton of catching-up to do to live off his home-plane, that's all..*
~
Nadej listened as he began to give her a run down of what she had said and smiled, giving a nod to his correctness. Perseverance would pay off in the long run, she just had to be careful on how to say things. It might take a little time but she had a feeling he was getting the hang of things. That was until he dropped his robes to the floor and climbed into bed with her. At first she just simply stared, her full mouth dropping open and her eyes grew wide. It was almost like she didn’t believe it was really happening. Like it was all some bad dream and she would wake up any second now. She didn’t have much time to react as he just pushed himself up against her in the bed. Nadej had not been on the edge of the bed, she had just laid down in the middle as she would to go to sleep, and as such when Something took it upon himself to mimic her, he had to actually push himself against her to not fall off the back side of the bed. She had never been this close to a man in this state, of course she had been closed to many things while killing them or in the heat of battle . . . but not in the heat of the bedroom. She felt completely shocked and indecent, her flawless features turned into an expression of confused disbelief. Of course, she was still wearing all her clothes and her armor, but to her sense of propriety they might as well have been doing it right there in the open room. When her brain caught up with the times and her astonishment faded, she scrambled off the backside of the bed and fell butt first onto the floor, her body scooting across the floor until her back hit the wall. Standing up she cleared her throat and pressed herself against the solid wood as if it might hold her upright forever. The supple flesh of her mouth worked over and over again, but no words came out. Instead she looked sort of like a fish out of water, especially with her eyes as wide as they were. Looking away from Something and to the ground, the woman cleared her throat, strands of silver hair tumbling from her shoulder to act as a sort of veil. It was a good thing too, her pale skin turning to a crimson color as she realized just how this might look if some one walked in. “S . . . something . . . it is not . . . it is well bad . . . no not bad but . . . it is not . . . customary for a man to disrobe in front of a woman unless . . . well they are mates . . . . And, as we . . . are not mating well . . . it would be best . . . if you put your robes back on . . . .” She cleared her throat again, trying to get her tongue to work properly and stop stuttering. It was hard however, her mind rewinding to the part where he was naked and pressed up against her. She had not planned on taking off her armor and clothes tonight, but now she sure as HELL wasn’t. Nadej had no intention of moving until he put his clothes back on, her eyes diverted away to try and salvage some of her dignity.
~
*Something's dark eyes widened at Nadejda's reaction...his brows furrowing in concern as she flopped herself off the bed. He sat up, still looking concerned as her mouth worked wordlessly* Are you alright? Should I call for help? *He drew the covers back and stood up, heading over, apparently to make sure she was alright. Finally she spoke though..and both his brows went up..* Ahhhh...my apologies if I offended. *he smiled, and walked around to the other side of the bed, grabbing his robes and pulling them back on* I was under the impression people didn't sleep in their clothes, I misunderstood. It won't happen again. *he perched himself on the bed again, sitting atop it and looking at her..his head tilting to the side curiously* Mating. That was a subject it was difficult to find informative books about. I have a very basic idea of its function..and obviously the results. But, there are very apparently a lot of vagueries involved. And as I've just discovered, a social taboo or two. Perhaps it's best if you inform me about these things before I cause you to look like I just weaved a Fear spell on you again. Although..if I'd known just taking my clothes off would have this effect on people I'd have saved myself a lot of effort up until now. *he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, raising a finger to tap his chin as he mulled this line of thought over*
~
Nadej might give the impression she was trying to climb into the wall when he moved towards her naked, her eyes staying turned away but she couldn’t help the fact that she heard him get off the bed and walk towards her. When he moved away she relaxed a bit, at least she didn’t appear as if she might faint anymore. She would wait until he put his robes back on before she attempted to look at him. This was a mistake of course, every time her eyes touched his figure she had a mental flashback of his naked body and it made the apples of her cheeks deepen in color. Instead she cleared her throat and moved towards her side of the room . . . the far side of the room, where she sat down on the bed as he spoke. Could it really be that he was trying to kill her with embarrassment? The subject of mating came up and it was all she could do not to fall over. After the surprise of him getting naked it was going to take her a bit to recover and now he wanted to talk about sex? This was unbelievable. “It is not . . . really a subject that is . . . well appropriate for me to discuss with you Something.” She kept her eyes down cast, her body turned towards him but she was not really facing him per se. How in the multiverse was she going to explain herself out of this one. Licking her lips to moisten them she spoke in more even tones now, the stuttering gone and she regained a great deal of her composure. “Something, I am not afraid of you. And, taking your clothes off in public would certainly cause a stir, but it will not frighten criminals away. It would more than likely end you up in a bad way. Forgive my reaction . . . I realize you are not accustomed to this plane or its social rules, but let us just make sure your robes stay on unless you are in private or with other males. And, only with other males if you are bathing, changing clothes or using the restroom.” She fell silent for a moment as if trying to collect her shattered thoughts before continuing. “As for mating . . . perhaps a man would be more appropriate of a teacher for you to learn that subject from. I am not really one to educate you since I have yet to do this action.” It seemed a logical way to deflect the line of conversation onto some one else . . . some one not her.
~
Ahhh...*he frowned just a bit when she said that taking his clothes off wouldn't work as well as a Fear spell. Every wizard tries to gather as much power as possible to themselves..as much knowledge as they can garner--but at the same time it's also true that every wizard tries to budget the use of that power as much as possible. It was painfully apparent that the mortal use of the Art was finite and once their allotment was done, a wizard was as defenseless as a child. Barring time to rest, of course. He'd thought perhaps he'd found another little trick to put up his sleeve just in case...but alas, that was not to be. The frown was short-lived though..he returned to listening to Nadejda intently as she...well, tried to explain herself out of the situation. Of course, that didn't occur to him, he simply assumed she was trying to explain as best as he could the entire time, reguardless of whether she had any answers or not. Considering how little he himself knew, and how obvious it was to him that the world was so incredibly complex, he could understand how she, a denizen..still wouldn't know everything...* Alright...well, I don't know any males. I suppose I'll just have to ask Zevit and see if perhaps she has more experience on this topic. *he nodded and smiled...then had a moment's pause, tilting his head to the side slightly* I apologize for causing you discomfort. I'll leave you to your rest now, I think you've earned it. *he smiled and chuckled softly, then laid himself back down again, this time keeping his robes on. He pulled the covers back over himself and positioned himself as she'd shown him on the bed. He closed his eyes and let out a long, soft sigh..apparently settling in to sleep...smiling softly and contentedly even as he did so..*
~
She had tried not to growl out anything when the warrior, who'd just left her with the lizard rather than stayed to help her question it, set all the blame on her. She was wearing street clothes and had a small knife; the warrior had pretty much walked off, let the spell break, and that was that. And she was nearly steaming when the woman began speaking about <i>respect,</i> seeing how every step of their very short journey she had been insulting and cold. Zevit was smoldering – literally – with every step of the trip; she smelled faintly of smoke in her anger. But despite her mood, she managed to keep her tongue civil, even when she was quite willing to rip the young woman in half with her words. She was an arrogant pregnant dog; here she was tending the fallen, trying to stop the crime, and this self-righteous little celestial wanted to shift the blame to her.
Piker.
“Fine. It's Athaon Zevit <i>Tiaves</i>.” The last name spoken by someone quite fluent in Baatorian.
She had spoken to the woman, and with the Harmonium sure to through her in prison just for the horns and skin, she wasn't going to deal with them. It was time to -go-. And the gutter-girl in her wasn't going to leave behind the plunder from the lizard bastards behind. There was no time to strip them, really, of their armor and other things. She'd have to settle for their portable wealth, which had turned out to be considerable. There had been some coins, and some jewels; she had pocketed it secretly and kept it hidden under her clothes.
They returned to her Hospice, and after getting quarters for the two she made her rounds <i>(Effectively keeping Beau and Michelle able to play that scene.)</i> Such power as she had not used was poured into healing magic for the ill and wounded; Zevit tried to conserve as much power as possible all day, and expend it all just before she rested. When someone was critically wounded, that was another matter, but she had to triage her limited power, not to mention be ready to deal with threats. Spending magic battling the Khaasta left her with less that she could channel into helping others, but -dead-, she was no use to anyone.
Only when this was done did she take secret ways up stairs only she and her chosen Priests of the Great Unknown knew, into hidden chambers on the fifth floor. Even Harmaen knew nothing about them. There were her ledgers, her small cache of reserved wealth for keeping her Hospice open even if the money she was donated dried up. Only there did she breathlessly uncover the treasures the Khaasta had taken from their victims. She started with the coins, going through each one in turn, looking to see which had been clipped. Yet not one of the platinum gems had been cut down, much to her surprised; stingers, yes, they got cut down, and so did most silver pieces, but whomever they had taken these from was obviously rich enough to not need that kind of petty thievery. She stared at the pile of coins. Part of her, a -large- part of her, just wanted to quickly stuff it into the coffers of the Hospice, leaving it there for her people to benefit from. She'd take a bit to live off of, two coins at most, but leave out the cut for the holier-than-thou pregnant dog and donate to her people, people really in need.
Then, stunned with the take, she began counting out the coins. After she had confirmed the count twice, she layed out twenty seven coins in two piles. The last pile had the two odd coins out, which she kept for her and her Hospice. Zevit felt -obligated- to give even that self-righteous woman a fair cut, but if there were two coins excess, then they'd be better off in the coffers of the Hospice, buying supplies and food, than in some mercenary's grubby hands. Next, she began the small bag of gems. She checked the small scale she had used for the coins, verifying their authenticity. Next, one by one, she put the gems on the balance as she began with the first one. She was not the best at this, but patience with references, a quick mind, a balance, and a magnifying glass made up for it. The first, she realized, was a badly shaped pearl, which Zevit figured would fetch about two platinum coins. Next, she checked the long, worked small statuette, which turned out to be very pure jade shaped like a tiger. Zevit guessed it was worth a little more than a hundred gold. Maybe a hundred and twenty, but she needed to move it fast, and there would be difficulty finding a buyer quickly. Next, she checked the two gems that looked priceless, one a massive, clear stone. Zevit was not too surprised when she found out it was a fake; it was a nice piece of zircon, still worth at least thirty or forty gold ounces. It -looked- like a massive diamond, alright. Only the weight gave away the difference. Finally, the last blue gem she spent several minutes with. Originally, Zevit was ready to assume it was a fake, but the weight was right. The density was right. Everything was right. She didn't believe it, so Zevit tested it again, checking for imperfections, for flaws, for details that were out of sorts. It was a flawless sapphire.
Locking these away in a warded drawer, Zevit went to sleep, giving the night crew instructions to wake her early. She was up a half-hour before dawn and out and about the city. It took her over an hour to get to the money changers, and she had to argue and fight them. The bastards, she knew, used magic to sense her urgency, and they fought her every step of the way to get her to drop the price. After a lot of haggling, and a lot of arguing, she did her best and got a bit over a thousand in gold, choosing to take it in platinum. With her greensteel armor on, she looked more imposing. With two of her bashers guarding her, she felt a little bit better in transporting the wealth. Still, the stack of platinum felt like a lead block. She carried it back to the Hospice. Now she had one hundred and two coins. This time it worked out evenly. Adding the stacks from last night, she prepared two sacks of sixty one platinum coins for Something and for Nadejda, shuffled sixty three into her coffers, and called it a good morning, though it was not yet nine.
Zevit told her people, eleven warriors and four priests, to help the other two as needed and suggest they wait for their money from last night. With that, she made her rounds outside again, spending an hour or two contacting friends and others in the Lower Ward in the local hang-outs for spivs and cutters and rapscallions of all stripes. There were quite a few people who owed her, and she wasn't going to hesitate to get in some time to get people looking for the Khaasta. Back a bit before noon, she began making her rounds, sticking to mundane cures and potions, bandages, and the like. When needed, she had her understudies use their magic. Zevit was saving her strength to hunt the Khaasta later tonight. She hadn't bothered to remove her armor for a lack of time, figuring she would have time after lunch to go ahead and change into her street clothes before the hunt, but she had secured Final Argument and her shield back upstairs. She also picked up their shares of the pay-out, keeping it on her person for when she saw the two again.
They'd brought in a boy with a shattered leg; Zevit was busy splinting his leg and checking on him with one of her priestesses. Comforting him as best she could, she still told her healer, “This one, green.” He was low priority for magical healing later tonight; there were others with more serious wounds to get to before him.
~
*Something woke up incredibly early. At the first sign of light he simply couldn’t sleep anymore. He’d somewhat acclimated to just the dim daylight of Sigil…but that didn’t mean that he was used to it…not in the least. Even with his eyes closed the morning light woke him. Still, he didn’t leave the room he’d slept in right away. Rather, he sat up in bed, rummaged through his pack for his grimiore, and then began quietly flipping through it. He picked out several spells to replace the ones he’d used the day before, and carefully refreshed them in his mind, literally burning their imprint into his brain until they needed to be called upon. This generally didn’t take him very long, but he took his time about it…he didn’t have anywhere to be, and for a change he didn’t need to particularly worry about his own well-being. At least, he was apparently safer at the moment than he’d been in a while.
When he was satisfied he was as prepared for the coming day as he could be--which pretty much meant to the best of his limited faculty in this place—he closed his book again, replaced it back in his pack, then straightened out his sleep-mussed robes. He slung his pack onto his back, shifting it around a bit so it was a little more comfortable…then walked to the door and, after fiddling with the knob for a few minutes, opened the door and poked his head out. He looked around for a minute, before his body followed his head and he went on out to wander the place, generally poking his nose into everything that caught his attention that was odd to him. Which pretty much covered everything. He was always pleasant enough about it at least…if it was apparent he wasn’t wanted somewhere he just ambled on out to find the next thing that might interest him. He could probably have spent the rest of the day doing just this and not run out of oddities to see..*
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #4 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:09am » | |
However, Zevit's people had something else in mind. After not too many hours of his poking his nose into everything and being chased up and down the bottom four floors of the Hospice, he had some idea of its layout, including the backways up and down the rear and the main stairs used to carry most of the patients. The halls were narrow and serviced large rooms, which were fed by smaller storerooms. Guards slept in a sideroom of the kitchen, which was massive and serviced the many tables on the ground floor. There they would feed a large crowd come mealtimes. The next two floors were devoted to healing and the sick; those who were wounded were often first seen just outside the building and brought up, while the sick were filed up the stairs. The fifth floor was entirely off-limits to him, and the fourth seemed to consist of an almost barracks-like quarters for younglings with two classrooms to the side. Something would know better than to try the fifth floor, or even certain rooms. An obvious Glyph guarded many passages. Anyone willing to make -that- obvious a means to stop intrusion would have more subtle ones, too.
Something wound up working for Reken, a young slip of a human woman sharp enough to turn his creativity to good use. Something learned all about -food-, and a bit about how to make soups, bread, and other edibles, in exchange for doing the things she didn't feel like doing. Of course, he also learned how to build a fire, -not- cut himself with a knife, and that Reken would smack him fiercely with a wooden sthingy if he touched her spice rack. She got -quite- a bit of work out of him before his questions finally got to her and she sent him off on his way, telling him the 'Athaon' had returned.
Zevit has just finished setting a tib-fib break, strapping a youth's leg between two large splints. She was still mailed, the long coat down to her shins. It was green-tinted, not normal steel. She bore only a small dagger as a weapon, but carried two heavy purses at her belt. “Ah, Something,” she said. “Y'know I was afraid y'd go an' wand'r off seein' somethin' shiny down th'street an' we'd lose you. D'ya'sleep well?” she asked. To one of the workers, she said, “'is one, green.” She started to walk away from this bed, and indeed, from her rounds. Normally, Zevit worked the floors herself all day, but given her intention to hunt the Khaasta, she planned to rest up.
~
*Something had most certainly stayed the hell away from the warded rooms and passages. There were plenty of other things to be looking at without going where he obviously wasn't wanted. Besides, there were enough things that threatened his life in this place that he didn't know about..he certainly wasn't going to risk his life braving things he actually did have some knowledge of.
He was more than willing to help in the kitchen. There were as many things in there he thought curious as anywhere else, and this human woman actually seemed to want him in there. She was an enterprising person indeed. Yes, he required much instruction to start off with, but he was actually quite brilliant, and picked things up amazingly quickly. And he was happy to help. He didn't know about this stuff..it was all new to him..and as such, it didn't seem a menial task to him as it might have to others. Certainly, he preferred to apply himself in less...physical ways...but at least he wasn't being asked to bounce a tavern or something. His only protest was the one time he'd been rapped with that sthingy...he held his hand as if she'd just stuck it with a dagger and yelped in his oddly muffled voice..'not the hand!'...he needed those things for casting, d**nit. In any case, the incident was quickly forgotten and he reapplied himself to cooking.
When Reken finally kicked him out, he smiled brightly at her and waved..'Okay..thank you for teaching me to cook! See you later!' he then dissapeared back into the rest of the building to find Zevit. As interesting as this place might be, filled with lots of interesting people..he did have at the back of his mind the reckoning that they ultimately had something to do. This was enough at least to keep him from being side-tracked too much. When he finally tracked Zevit down, he peered over her shoulder at what she was doing..but he had learned enough already to not interrupt until she was finished..at which point he smiled broadly at her....staring blankly, but smiling at least..until he'd deciphered what she'd just said. Just another thing he had yet to get the hang of..* Ah..I slept well, thank you. Your customs surrounding rest are pretty complex, but I think I have the hang of it. *he shook his head, and turned to follow her, talking as he went* No, I decided to stick around and help out as promised. I learned how to cook today!
~
“Y'did?” she said. “Oi, in tha' case,y'some girl's dream man already!” she said, laughing. Of course, that probably just confused him further, even when she clapped him on the shoulder. With her mail, her hand was surprisingly heavy, but -not- as heavy as it should have been so armored. Of course, Something wouldn't get that, but then, her greensteel was much lighter than normal mail. “Y'can cook, y'smart, an' y'don't know enough t'talk back to 'er.” She kept laughing and continued walking, guiding him away from the patients. There was no need to advertise that he was also now significantly well-off; he had enough money for at least three to five years of comfortable living in the City so long as no one burned him. Of course, not being burned was the key, and there was only some small chance -that- would happen. “Y'learned a bit. Cookin's an art, aye? An' it takes a lot of time t'learn it well. I'm awful a' it. I like everythin' burnt an' covered with ashes. An' I ain' gonna ask abou' what was so complex abou' how we sleep, but I'm thinkin' of movin' y'upstairs near where the children are. Get y'a place where y'be a bit safer, an' such. I tol' m'people tha' we'd keep a place f'you as long as y'needed one. I -also- tol' them anyone try somethin' with you, an' they get my boot betwixt their cheeks so har' the bleed in th'privy for the nex' six weeks.”
She had taken him away from the others, and now had lowered her voice. Untying a pouch, she offered it over to him and said, “An' this is for you. Keep it safe. 's a lot of jink in there, an' while my -own- bashers are pretty trusty, they ain' no angels an' this Ward is thicker with thieves than a dungheap's with flies. The Khaasta had a lot they mus' of stole from th'victims, s'I did divvy it up in three. I got the Princess' jink, 'ere, too. This 'ere, I figure, is a bi' over six hundred gold ounce, an' it would be enough for a couple year, if y'don' let some spiv peel y'out of it. Be -careful-, y'silly magus; pikers'll rob y'blind if they -think- y'gots it an' knew how...er...little y'tumbled t' so far.” Of course, Zevit was more than smart enough to realize she'd just told him to trust no one when she expected him to trust her, given she'd, well, done her best to be as trustworthy as possible. Of course, Zevit wasn't going to bother having -that discussion yet. The lump of platinum coins was -quite- heavy, much moreso than its volume would indicate. “Y'sittin' on a pretty amoun' of money there; the bastards ha' to hur' some people with -serious- means.”
~
*Flummoxed, was probably the word for what Something was as he followed along with Zevit..he actually lifted a hand to scratch at his head. Cooking made a guy desirable? He still looked mildly confused when she handed him the money. He blinked, holding the suprisingly heavy bag in his hand...then shrugged and dumped it into his pack* If I understand you correctly...don't worry, I won't tell anyone I have this. Thank you for sharing. *he nodded and smiled...honestly, money didn't matter to him much though. He was a foreign person with strange money in his hands..and he didn't even have an exact idea of what it could get him. He'd follow her advice though...so far she'd been quite honest..she'd even given him money. So she couldn't be half so bad as Nadejda seemed to think her. Speaking of Nad though...* So, this cooking thing. And smarts and the other things. Is this the mating thing Nadejda said she doesn't know anything about last night? *he raised a brow slightly...trying to make a connection between soup and sex, but his knowledge was simply too limited. It made no sense to him whatsoever. But at least he was on familiar ground in this..*
~
“I'm half scar'd to ask wha' she tol' you...” she said.
“No, alri't, I'll try t'explain it as bes' I can,” she said. Zevit was walking as they talked, and now she was going to lead him downstairs, intending to have some food herself. She said, “See, there's -sex-, an' there's love, an' the two, well, they's related, bu' not the same. An' then there's the relations betwixt people, an' they don' always' mean wha' one might thin'. See, alrigh'...” she stopped to consider this. Zevit would have just smacked something upside the head if he wasn't so honestly clueless, but since she had agreed to help him, Zevit tried to find a way to make it clear to him. “Alrigh', i's like this. People can -love- an' be attracted, an' tha' might make them wan' t'mate, but it doesn' mean they will. An' people love differen' things abou' people. So ya', tha' a boy can cook is a plus f'r him, ya', bu' it doesn' mean every wom'n gonna swoon for you, or y'for every woman who can. People love -thin's- abou' each other, an' part o'that's beauty. Many – I thin' men more than women, but men an' women both – c'n ov'look some faults w't someone if they're attractive. Bu' people fall in love for reasons, for who they thin' people are, an' sometimes, it's all righ' an' it makes people re'ly 'appy, an' sometimes...it just ma's 'em miser'ble. Usual, it's a man an' a woman, bu' not always. It's less common, but it coul' be two women, or two men, or a gr'p tha's in love. Now, people'n love usually wanna mate, aye? But that don' mean they do. People have stron' feelin's abou' it. Some won', 'til they get married. An' some will with many, many people. Especial' y'men, you,” she said, giving him a dig from her elbow as she stepped onto the stairs, leading him downstairs. “Bu' people can mate f'r any reason. B'cause it can give <i>amazin'</i> pleasure. 'Cause one pays for it. 'Cause one's manipulatin' the other. 'For any numb'r reasons. Some people do't 'cause they's mystics an' it's 'oly t'them. Some others do it to get back 'cause -their- lov'r did it wit' someone else. It's all -really complex. An' it can be dirty an' foul, or beautiful an' amazin',” she said.
“I wouldn' worry -much- abou' it, Somethin'. It's a game you'll 'ave to play. Jus' bein' near people now, you'll star' feelin' it, start knowin' wha' it is to want, an' to start feelin' it towards a woman. An', for wha' it's worth, I think y'so Cluelessly swee', y'll spoil some chit silly s'm'day. S', don' -worry- 'bout it, bu' just remember tha' we crazy chits mi' go an' -really- feel somethin' for a silly lil' magus, or migh' try an' play 'is hear' for a sap, an' the only way y'll learn is b'livin' it. Ain' no teach'r tellin' y't'rules, an' ain' no rules anyway. All y'do is decide wha' kin' a person y'gonna be, an' fin' wha' makes you's as 'appy as ya c'n be.”
She had led downstairs, and having said all that, she wondered if she had completely confused him, or if she had just made it clear. Zevit was not sure how much he had followed, but it probably was the best -she- could explain it to him just now. There were worse words, she supposed, she could have chosen.
~
*Something was silent as Zevit spoke. He was spending half the time re-translating what she was saying..and the other half pondering it. It wasn't entirely overwhelming his considerable intillect..but it was certainly working it. He was silent long after she finished, following along like a lost puppy..he let her eat in relative silence, but didn't grab anything to eat, himself. Finally, after quite some time...probably a blessed silence for Zevit all the while..he finally nodded and laughed* So, what you're saying..is that there's really nothing to say about it. There are no rules, and none should be implied. Very well, there are no doubt more important things to worry about in this place. *he smiled and nodded* Like those lizard-people thieves. I take everyone's reaction to it as evidence that this sort of thievery isn't particularly common. It seems rather...more personal than more conventional types of theft. I know I'd be devestated to be parted with these looks. *he gestured toward his face and laughed again..he didn't consider himself good-looking, particularly...or bad. Honestly, it hadn't ocurred to him to wonder prior to right that moment. It's not as if he had much of a gauge to use to answer that question back in the Void, even if it had come to him to ask it..*
~
He had been silent, and it was indeed a blessed silence. Zevit led downstairs, grabbed some rolls of bread, and ate them standing, carrying off a tankard of beer and some oranges that didn't look like they'd be long before they would go bad. She wanted to eat them before they did. When he spoke, she responded. “Oi, 'ells, no rules, bu' regularities, aye? People ge' jealous for the ones they love. An', tha' the only way y'gonna learn anythin' 'bout it is by livin' it. Bu' I'll ge' y'somethin' to read. An', well, I -did- wan' to see 'bout puttin' a stop to them. Tha's -my- people ou' there, as it'ere. I 'on't ask y', bu' sounds like y'offerin' t'help anyway.” She began laughing at his self-appraisal. “Oi...y'piker...for y'own info, chant's y's pretty g'd lookin', but not the type I twig t',” as she passed him an orange. She said, “'Ere. Tear the skin off. An' then eat,” as she began walking back -up- the stairs. “'M gonna brin' y't'm'library.”
She passed all the way up the rotating stairs to the fifth floor, bypassing the glyphs harmlessly – and there seemed no problem with him bypassing them as she led him. Like the other floors, it was filled with a narrow corridor and many closed-off rooms. These were locked, and apparently off-limits to most. Zevit led to one of the rooms, and opened the door. She led him into a private dining room which was just large enough for a table set for eight. She led on into the next room, a larger room with two large bookshelves. There was a small statue in the corner, and a fireplace. The room was clearly -more- comfortable than the bulk of the Hospice, though it was hardly luxurious. Of course, what had Something to compare to?
Zevit approached the bookshelves, and she selected one carefully. “Ah, 'ere. This one, aye. I's the story of a woman who's torn betw'n th'man she loves an' her life 'as a courtesan. Thi'll give y'somethin' to think abou', then. An' when y'finish this, I'll loan y'another book.” She did, after all, trust something with the book; he seemed decent enough in his naiveté. Quite unlike that frosty pregnant dog who seemed convinced Zevit was the spawn of naked evil. “Y'jus' tell me wha'y'wanna read 'bout.” She passed him the book. “Bu' ask me. Th'ward ain' gonna go off on me, or if I escor' someone, or a few others. Bu', ya', you'll be hurtin' if y'try t'slip past it withou' me.”
~
*Something blinked at Zevit when she elaborated again on the relationships thing. He nodded very slowly..as if the words were registering, but he wasn't quite getting exactly the concept. That was no suprise though, of course. He took the orange and turned it over in his hands as he followed along with her. After inspecting it, he just shrugged and did pretty much what he was supposed to..dug his fingernails in and peeled back the skin. He did this until all the skin was gone, and stuck the wad of skin in his pocket. He was actually very good with his fingers..most mages tend to be, to some extent. Of course, he predictably messed up on the 'eat' part. He rammed half the orange in his mouth and bit down, sending a spray of juice everywhere. This didn't perturb him in the least though..he didn't know right from wrong. And he didn't breathe at least, so it didn't choke him. He chewed a while then swallowed, grinning at Zevit as he wiped the juice off his face with a voluminous sleeve* Delicious. And didn't even require any preparation! Maybe I should have tried the soup. *he chuckled, and set into the rest of the orange, following her up through the wards. They gave him pause for a moment, at the first one they passed through..he actually experimentally waved a hand through the entryway as if half-expecting to lose it. It wasn't that he didn't trust Zevit..it was just that he hadn't examined the workings of that particular magic yet. In any case, further wards didn't so much as give him pause. He followed her on up into the library, licking his lips from the last of the orange, and looked around himself, eyes widening a bit at all the books..* Wow. This is more books than I've ever seen! *he took the book she passed him rather reverently, and passed a hand over its cover..then looked from it back to Zevit and he smiled broadly again* Thank you, Zevit. I'll return this to you as soon as I've had the chance to finish it. I'll of course ask you if anything comes to mind for further reading. *he nodded and smiled..then paused for a moment, when something else occurred to him, and he went on in a more serious tone of voice..* As to the thieves..well, if they are as rampant as it sounds, someone needs to do something about them. And if I know anything about Asimaar...that Nadejda isn't going to pass up the chance to smite some evil. Which means you two are stuck with the same problem and would spend more time at each others' throats than solving the problem if I were to just up and leave, hmm? Besides, you said I would be working for my stay. This seems the best way. *he nodded and smiled. He'd actually thought this through...as unknowing as he was about most things, it could be easy to think he didn't think at all..but quite the opposite was true.*
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #5 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:10am » | |
Nadejda awoke from her half sleep, her eyes wide as she stared at the still dark room, the paladin’s body tense as if she had been in the castle herself. Something slumbered on the opposite side of the room peacefully and the soft light that naturally illuminated the Cage had yet to start glowing. There had been no peace for her however, her dreams disturbing as they invaded her mind. She had not meant to go under so deeply, normally she could control if she slept soundly or just enough to get rest. For some reason however, the typical sounds of the hospice had not bothered her and she had slipped into a dreaming state. Her chest moved up and down rapidly, her armor still worn so it was harder to see due to all the metal, but her breathe came out as if she had been running all night. Sweat glistened on her forehead, small beads forming and rolling down her face making her silver hair stick to her pale skin. It took a good five minutes before the effects of the dream dissipated, a slow exhale given and she shook her head. Perhaps this was that tiefling’s doing . . . maybe she wove a spell on her when she had drifted off . . . . Again she shook her head, sending the silver hair sliding over her shoulders as she stood up off the bed, her mind dismissing the thoughts. Now she was just being paranoid, she was still tired but she needed to get up and move. The dream had disturbed her and she hoped it would fade slowly into the back of her memory like normal dreams did.
Trying to be a quiet as possible she moved to the door, the knob turned slowly and she opened the door before slipping out and reclosing it. Hoping she did not wake Something . . . because things were awkward enough with out him tagging along, she turned and moved down the hallway, nodding to those she passed with a stoic smile. She remembered how she was brought up and went back the same way, her feet taking her down the stairs gingerly despite her armor and by the time she made it down stairs the soft glow of Sigil began to show through the windows. The cooks would more than likely be up already and so she made her way to the kitchen by using her nose. She made short order of breakfast, thanking the women profusely for their kindness and on her way out she gained a follower. The little girl was short, only coming up to about Nadejda’s hip, her eyes big and blue as she stared up at the silver haired woman. She would continue walking for a good five feet before she stopped and addressed the child, her demeanor changing drastically from how she acted towards the adults. Where normally she resembled silk draped over a mountain made of sand paper, to the child she was as soft as honey butter and just as sweet. “Why hello there, what is your name?” The tall paladin would knee in front of the child, extending a hand for her to take if she wished. Eyeing her critically for a long time the girl finally spoke, her head tilting to the side and made her curly brown hair flop haphazardly around on the top of her head. “Polly. But, nobodies calls me thats. Everbodies calls me Pol.” The woman smiled warmly at the child as she nodded her head, waiting for the girl to take her hand before she shook it as gently as she could manage. “It is a pleasure to meet you Polly, my name is Nadejda and you may call me that if you wish.” It would seem the Paladin had made a new friend. By the time ten minutes was over the girl had pulled her all the way up to the fourth floor by her index finger, making her meet all the other children in the hospice.
~
“Are you our new teacher?” they asked her, repeatedly, until she had denied it at least four times. The children were expecting one, soon. And apparently they did have one. They were dragged into class for some time.
She was in by nine, spent about an hour on her rounds, and had about an hour with Something stalking up and down the Hospice, offering him a book. If she had known how -quickly- he could read, Zevit would have given him three, but she only knew that Something was bright. That he was a certifiable genius – albeit a clueless one – she had yet to realize. She didn't <i>yet</i> know.
Zevit spent much of the remaining time until lunch back on the floor, before eventually heading back upstairs. Free for a few minutes, she had hoped to change out of the shin-length green-tinted mail she wore. Jingling all the way up to the fourth floor, en route past the warded stairs to the fifth, she heard giggling and laughing. Pol was rushing out the room, and seized her hand, tugging her towards the main room. “Zeeeeee!”
“Ack, girl, y'gonna bowl me ov'r!” She was being pulled; right now, she had no where near Polly's energy now. She'd planned to sleep away the afternoon. “N'calm down.” She was just not ready for that.
“Is Nadinja,” -Pollly <i>tried</i>, “our new teacher?” she asked. Zee would know.
“N'no. I ain' hired the secon' one,” she said, glancing up at the warrior. Zevit forced a smile; it was the only polite way to bare teeth. Even if it was hard to be angry with someone whose hair was being braided by six little girls while a bunch of boys kept asking if they could see her swords.
“An' don' thin' y'gettin' t'do my hair nex',” she added immediately after.
~
Nadejda was in good hands, if little ones. She sat cross legged on the floor and she had removed her breastplate, even if she had not done so the night before to even sleep. The piece of metal was made to fit her body and curved to hold her endowments in place. It rested on the floor up against the wall by the door, her sword belt also taken off and was put under the armor as to ward off curiosity. It did not work well however, the kids constantly going back to examine it but were chased away with a word and a smile from the woman. She had not moved far away from the items and could catch anyone who truly decided they were going to touch them. Polly had decided that Nadej was a princess, her hair was silver in hue and her eyes were too pure a blue for her not to be. So she had declared her princess and everyone had to pamper the princess. The girls were her ladies in waiting and had to “do” her hair and makeup. Which they were making fine work of at the moment, the mass of silver silk braided, matted, combed, brushed up, pulled over, twisted this way and that . . . it was a masterpiece only children could appreciate. One of the other girls had taken it upon herself to be the make up artist, her “make up brush” a random toy that she held in her left hand and continued to dip it into a rounded cup before scraping it across her face to apply the make up.
Thank the gods there was no real make up, or Nadej would look like a clown by now, though she was sure she would be missing some skin soon if the girl did not ease up just a bit. The relief she had prayed for came, but was answered by some one other than who Nadejda would have picked. She had seen Polly run into the hall but had not paid much attention until Zevit was dragged bodily into the room just as she had been. Zev was the last person she wanted to see while in this state, the second to last being Something . . . especially after their misunderstanding the previous night. But, of course, the gods also had a sense of humor it would seem . . . even if Nadej wasn’t getting the joke. “Oh . . . uhm . . . forgive me if I was not allowed up here . . . I did not really have much of a choice and well . . . . We were just playing.” It would seem the Paladin wasn’t as hard as she seemed all the time, her icy complexion melting with the little flames dancing around her happily playing with her hair. “If I need to leave just let me know.” She would not bring herself to plead with the tiefling, but if the woman felt like being charitable she would not hesitate to accept any reason to get her hair straightened out.
~
“Nah, bu' if y'stay too lon', they may jus' try'n find some real face cream, an' then, y'll be paint'd like a...an actress,” she said. Zevit, however, did see the hilt of the weapon peeking up from the back of the breastplate. She swiftly began moving towards it; half of her was of a mind to snarl out something about letting the kids anywhere -near- it, but her instincts to try to make peace with the woman were stronger. She did, however, chase away Dasthi from the weapon, which she figured advertised to the children that it was -interesting- enough the adults didn't want them playing with it, which of course probably only made them want it more.
“We make her pretty like a princess!” Polly said.
“Aye, a princess, bu' she's a -warrior- princess,” Zevit said. “An' y'best go an' clean 'er up, 'cause she nee' get 'erself ready. She'll need to be cleaned up if we're gonna chase down s'me bad bashers tonigh'. -And- I do thin' tha' there's a set-up for the midday meal tha's not done, tha's got to get done, s'ya can eat before y'greybeard comes back t'teach the aft'rnoon's lessons.” There was some mumbling, which she said, “N'go! Y'can play with the Princess some other time.” There was mumbling, but mostly by virtue of insisting, they did get in line. Zevit made them do some minor work and tasks, and when it became part of what they -had- to do to get fed, and stay off the streets, then it wasn't too hard to get them to obey. Not that Zevit -would- throw them out, of course...
“'Ere,” she said, not really considering the paladin's dignity compromised given how mangled her hair had become thanks to the kids. She untied one of the pouches of coins which she had been carrying. It was surprisingly heavy for its size; there were just under four pounds of platinum in it, and it felt like a ton given how small a bundle it was. “Th'Khaasta were carryin' a -lot- of jink they stole, too, 't'seems. Thi'is your third of th'jink,” she said. “I dunna' wha' you wan', bu' I'm goin' aft'r the lo' of them pikers. An' so is Somethin'. An' I bet tha' m'yob will too. I dun' 'ave t'like you, Princess, bu' we can use the chiv.” Zevit wasn't going to even pretend she was happy with Nadejda if the children weren't watching, but she was going to swallow her anger, at least.
~
At that moment she felt like hugging the tiefling, even if it would grate her sensible side, but she was glad the girls were listening . . . even if they didn’t like it. As Zev moved towards her breastplate and sword, the Paladin stood smoothly and quickly retrieved them, sliding the armor back on and rebuckling her sword belt. She adjusted everything to her liking as the kids were rounded up and motioned to leave, her eyes moving to Zevit when she offered up the pouch. She took it almost hesitantly but understood immediately what it was. “We should find those that this was stolen from and give it back to them.” To her it was the most logical course of action. It was obvious to her that the Lizard men stole it off their victims and so it would be best to get their beauty back and give it and the money in a gesture of kindness. She held the pouch in her hand but did not attach it to her belt as if she really planned on doing just what she had said. If she put it in her possessions it would mean she claimed it and that rubbed her the wrong way. As Zevit began talking about likes and dislikes the Paladin’s icy exterior resurfaced and came back even thicker, the emotion that was on her delicate features draining away to nothingness as she looked down at the tiefling.
“I want to see those that are doing these evil deeds brought to justice and if it means working with you then that is fine. I do not trust you and I do not have to like you, I have worked with tieflings before and every time it has brought nothing but pain, misery and betrayal to myself and those around me. So you are right, I do not have to like you and I do not even have to trust you, but I will do what is necessary to stop these creatures from perverting anyone else’s lives by stealing that which is most precious to them.” She had fallen silent then, her pale blue eyes like snowflakes as she studied Zevit before adding. “And, my name is Nadejda. If you are having trouble pronouncing it, perhaps I can give you some instruction.” It was clear she did not like being called a Princess by Zevit, the woman twisting the term into something derogatory and she was not about to be insulted by a half devil. Since she realized her hair was still tangled and a hand lifted as she began to unravel the braids and straighten out the mass of silver threads. Her hair was very fine and so it rarely held tangles for long, in the battle of rat nests in her hair, the Paladin would triumph. Speaking plainly she continued. “Is there anything else?”
~
“Oh, 'ello cutter. Did y'lose a bunch of jink? Really? Wow, seems everybody says 'ey loss a bunch,” she said. “Look, every cutter y'ask is gonna say it was theirs. An' wh'oever 'ad this jink was -rich-, they'd be 'appier jus' getting' they beauty back. An' if th'sods got enough jink they can 'ave priceless jewels, an' I got people with nothin' 'ere. Y'wanna try and track down who it belong t', feel free, bu' I'll take -my- share an' use it <i>'ere,</i> an' I ain' gonna speak for Somethin's share.”
The paladin's speech finally did get her angry, and her voice became more like a hiss than before, as it was wont to do when she -was- irate. “Ah, s'it's not OK t'call y'Princess, but y'got no problem sayin' t'me nothin' but y'think I'm a no-good fiendlin', an' y'got the pikin' stones t'say it in <i>my</i> hosp'tal, after y'eat m'food, after I give th'money t'you, y'pikin' sellsword, an' <i>not</i> t'these people who're in <i>real</i> need. S'y'know wha'? I'll call y'pikin' Princess, 'cause it takes too much m'breath to call y' the self-righteous, stuck-up, arrogan' pregnant dog y'is, wh's got her holi'r'n'thou head s'far up 'er ass she probably needs open 'er mouth t'pikin' drop a load.” She was waving her finger at the woman, standing up to her despite Nadejda's superior size and strength. Her tone -was- biting and angry, unafraid. She went on, “'S I wanna know what <i>'ya'</i> do tha' y'think y'can stand there wit' y'nose up in th'air, an' spit on me an' insul' me. What're <i>you</i> t'think y'got right say somethin'? G'pike y'self. I go' people who -do- need m'eh.” She wheeled about, the conversation over in her mind, storming off unless stopped.
~
Nadej had spoken plainly, but there had never been any emotion to what she said. She had also never called her names the entire time she spoke, only named what race she was. It was not her fault that her race was evil, lying, backstabbing monsters. So if she wanted to take insult, then it was her business. Her insinuating that Nadej was wasting her time however made the Paladin’s skin crawl. The platinum belonged in the hands of its rightful owners and it was the very people they were trying to help by stopping the Lizard men and getting the jars back to the people they belonged to. To her, Zev’s excuse was a thin one that meant she only wanted to keep the gold for herself and the owner’s be d**ned. This also grated against the woman’s last nerve and made her want to deck the horned thing in front of her. When Zevit had finished throwing her little tantrum and began stomping off like a four year old Nadej would speak quietly, her voice just as emotionless as before. “Take it then. Use it for the orphans or the sick or for your own ends . . . but I will not sully my conscience by keeping ill gotten goods. While the monsters we took this from were evil and deserved their fate, those who have had their property stolen do not need to lose their belongings forever . . . they have already lost what makes them whole and now we are taking their “jink” as you put it so delicately.” She threw the bag at Zevit’s retreating feet, her own body moving towards the door to leave. “Perhaps I was wrong in thinking I could work with you. It has brought me nothing but pain in the past . . . so I was naïve in thinking this time would be any different. I am sure my “share” of the cut will more than pay for the bread and water I ate in your kitchen and the room you offered me last night.” With that she moved out into the hall and made for the exit.
~
“Oh, n'y'haven't insulted me at all,” she snorted. “Y'only manage to go never pas' one sentence withou' some slam abou' wha' I am, an' how clearly I'm nothin' bu' tha', when what did y'do for these people? Nothin'.” Disgusting, how self-righteous and blind this arrogant little witch was. She could only sit there and say her entire race were a bunch of backstabbing bastards and not think it was an insult. She could treat Zevit as an inferior and not consider it an insult. But there was the matter of the money. Zevit -would- have to take it. She couldn't turn it down; it was enough money for -months.- And even through her anger it seemed half-way decent of the pompous princess to give it to her.
“Oh, tha's some excuse. Y'won' keep it, s'y'll buy a clean conscience, then b'throwin' it at me an' preten'in' tha' y'done the righ' thin',” she said. “'Oh, no, keepin' it's so wron'; you do it, d**ned tieflin', so I can preten' I didn't have no han' in it! Y's boun' to the hells, bu' not me! I got <i>holy</i> blood!' If keepin' stolen goods wa' bother you, g'fin' the people who y'think it belongs to, if y'even thin' it's possible. Bu' don' preten' tha' givin' it to <i>me</i> means y'did y'best t'find them, 'cause y'used it t'buy an expensive shred of dignity an' mock-right aft'r all y'do is scream, 'oh, ev'l tieflin', y'monster' ev'ry chance y'can at me. So y'pick it up, an' you clean y'conscience of i' by really findin' the owners if y'think y'can, or y'give it t'me. And my ends <i>are</i> t'poor an' sick, so if you wan' t'preten' otherwise s'y'can keep talkin' t'me abou' the terrible pain some -other- tieflin' 'cause ya, then go aheh.” She kicked the bag back at the (still not known to be a) paladin, saying, “Bu' y'pick it up like an' adul' an' y'hand it t'me, or y'takes it. Don' preten' you dump y'hang-ups on me an' cry 'bout the pain I cause y', especially whe' all y'do is act the d**n fool.”
~
The paladin would stop, a sigh escaping her lips as if all of this was just way too much to have to deal with at the moment. There were real problems that needed to be addressed and here this half-devil was trying to teach her about right and wrong? It was enough to make the Aasimar want to laugh . . . almost. Instead she turned her head to the side so the tiefling could see her expression, her head shaking slightly and sending the silver tresses dancing over her shoulders before she replied. “Do you believe you have not? Since the first moment your eyes touched me you look at me with the same contempt I look at you. Do not act as if you are not judgmental Zevit, because I know that honorary title of Princess is not an endearing term to you. Please spare me the lecture. I never said these people were not needy and while I see you have a hand behind this goodness, it does not mean I trust you. You ask for my respect and trust with out ever earning it. You expect me to dish it out to you like free candy, but most of the suffering I have endured during my life has come from the hands of tieflings . . . I do not have to explain myself to you, because it is clear you would not listen anyhow.” She would turn to face Zevit fully, her lithe figure towering over the cleric before she gave a bow at the waist, her head down for a moment before she straightened again. “I thank you for your kindness and I wish you well. I must go help those who are being terrorized by the Khaasta, may the gods smile on you, even if you do not wish it.” Rotating with a smooth motion she began moving down the hall again in the slow casual pace, not once showing an ounce of anger, not once raising her voice or insulting Zevit openly as she was doing to Nadejda. The paladin was so d**n good it was almost an insult in its self.
~
“Ah, s'y'admit you judge <i>me</i> 'cause wha' <i>s'meone else</i> did. I never said I was n'judge, but <i>you</i> preten' y'aren't, even when y'jus' admit y'did it t'<i>me</i> for wha' others did t'ya. So pike off. I didn' treat s'meone wit' respect whe' they show me c'tempt, bu' at leas' I'm -honest- abou' it,” she said. The woman could hold up her shield of righteousness all she wanted, but Zevit had a death-hold on it, and ripping the other woman's hypocrisy to shreds was enjoyable at the moment. Nadejda had done nothing but accuse Zevit of everything that she had just done herself. She was content to let the argument go, now, having lain the other woman's self-serving claims to rest. She might pretend she hadn't been insulted, but Zevit had seen her anger in her eyes, and she might try to walk off calmly and primly, but she'd seen the other's wish to lash out at her. Of course, here in this stronghold, it was suicide; she had dozens of guards and four priests at her call. She had also even had the gall to judge her based on her religious views, which was the most tellingly deluded means to judge her at all. For a lack of agreement with <i>her</i> faith, whatever it was, she'd just been shown smugness. Certainly there was a sort of Defier who showed the same attitude, but if it was wrong of the Defier, it was as wrong of the believer.
No matter. Zevit was going to content herself with the knowledge that she was doing -real- things, while the other woman was just preaching to herself. There was something self-serving in that little bit of pride, but Zevit admitted it. She was -glad- to put the warrior in her place about her behavior. “An' don't throw thin's like a child,” she said. She stooped, lifting up the coins. Regardless of Nadjeda's tantrum, and how she was half-tempted as a point of pride to thrust the coins back in the woman's face and -make- her hand it over, she was just going to keep them. She would add it to the coffers; there was enough gold there to buys months of food and medicine, maybe enough to bring on even another priest to have more magical aid on hand. She walked off from the conversation, too. If the woman was so unjust someone else's actions justified showing her rudeness and ill-will, then the woman was unjust, and correcting her was beyond Zevit's patience. She couldn't -wait- for the Khaasta to be brought down. She could dump this smug witch off and never see her again.
~
Again, Nadej just shook her head, there was no point in arguing with the woman, she was stubborn and would not listen to her. She had already said out loud she did not trust her and for her own reasons. She said openly that she held contempt for her race and if the woman was to d**n deafened by her own self righteous beliefs, then there was nothing Nadej could do about it. The Paladin could talk herself blue in the face and it wouldn’t change a thing. She knew the evil of tieflings, there might be good ones out there, but they were rare and inherently they were evil creatures. After all it was in their blood. Were there evil Aasimar? Of course, she knew of one in particular she would kill if she ever found him . . . but were they in abundance? No . . . because they were inherently good. To the suspicious Aasimar mind, tieflings were devils, they were born that way. Devils were evil, therefore logically tieflings were evil. The paladin calling said to smite evil . . . so the natural order was for her to smite tieflings. It was black and white to Nadejda and Zevit just wanted to take her word at face value. She did not want to earn anything, she did not want to listen to anything but her own bile that she seemed to vomit up when ever confronted. So, she would not try. Let her keep the gold, let her keep whatever else she stole off the corpses, Nadejda was through with her, it was only a shame because she wanted to genuinely help Something, the people in the hospice and of course the people who were being harmed by the Khaasta. She would go it alone if she had to, but she could not let the evil just stand by and steal people’s worth. It was disgusting and the whole situation at hand was as well. Zevit wanted to feel like she was doing real work, great . . . let her sit on her thumbs and sling insults at the beasts . . . see how far that will get her with defeating them. It seemed to be her only talent, insulting and cussing. For the moment the Paladin had contacts to speak with and preparations to make . . . if it cost her the life she led then she would gladly give it up to save innocent people from being harmed. Let Zevit pervert her sense of honor as she wanted to, it would not change how truly good the woman really was. After all . . . one can not just become a Paladin . . . one is born a Paladin.
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #6 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:15am » | |
*Something had taken the book from Zevit with profuse thanks, then disappeared back into the bowels of the hospice...leaving Zevit to her business, and himself to his reading. He couldn't wait to dig into his reading. The book was a greater treasure by far to him than the money ever had been, by far. He set himself up out in front of the hospice, near the door. This gave him the opportunity to see what was going on in the city, just in case anything interesting happened. Of course, the main reason he chose that spot, was because he expected one or the other of the two women he'd met to come storming out sooner or later today. This, quite simply, wasn't something that was acceptable to him...so he'd taken it upon himself to make sure it didn't happen. His mind had made the leap quite easily. He needed the both of them, and so did the people these beauty thieves were criminalizing. So, he'd make sure it didn't happen.
Sure enough, it wasn't terribly long before Nadejda came out. He wasn't surprised, she was the more likely one to storm out...this was Zevit's home, after all. He looked up from his book when he heard the door open..his ears were quite sensitive to all of the sound in this plane...especially ones he was listening for. He smiled softly at Nadejda and spoke in a voice just as soft...he wanted it to be clear he wasn't accusing or looking to make her more angry than she likely already was. Not that he was a good judge of peoples' expressions. She might have been perfectly fine for all he knew..he was just playing on probabilities, after all..likelihoods..* So, which one of you decided cutting off your wings was the best way to learn to fly? Or was the decision mutual? *he tilted his head to the side slightly and smiled..there was nothing mocking on his expression or in his tone of voice..he sounded as innocent as usual*
~
Just as she had inside, the Paladin walked out quietly and calmly, her expression a mask of zero emotions. In fact, it was so emotionless one would have to say a lack of emotion because she showed no anger, remorse, satisfaction or any other indication of how she might be feeling. Even the pale blue eyes were simply voids of coolness as she turned them on Something, her head tilting to the side as a brow slowly began to rise on her smooth forehead. “You are always a puzzle aren’t you.” She said with that semi-smile, the corners of her lips turning up slightly. “I would never cut off my wings . . . don’t have to . . . I simply have to hide them.” She gave a chuckle that might sound like ice cubes being poured onto a glass table, but it was still musical none the less. “What ever are you reading?” She was genuinely curious, her eyes looking to the spine to try and see what he had picked up.
~
*Something chuckled at her when she said he was always a puzzle. It seemed quite ironic to him, considering everything was a puzzle to him. Maybe that very fact made him just as hard to understand. He hadn't considered this before. In any case, he was there for a reason, and got back to the point, smiling again* Then, I trust you can use that same logic when it comes to dealing with the Zevit problem, hmm? *he smiled brightly...then held up the book for her to look at..* It's about a beautiful young woman who is torn between her life as a courtesan and the man she loves. This was the first installment in Zevit's showing me a bit about mating. Well...love. Relationships, maybe. Ugh, there isn't even one word for it. *he frumped a bit. He held the book out for her to look at, but wouldn't let it go...his finger was obviously holding his place. He was already about three-quarters of the way through the book..*
~
So this was the ploy, insult her then sick the Vacuum Genasi on her when she tried to leave. He was so innocent but she wondered just how much of it was an act . . . . Still, looking into those obsidian voids she couldn’t bring herself to be upset with him. He was just a pawn in this game . . . and pawns tended to die first. Still, no emotion showed on her visage, not even a flicker of anger when he mentioned Zevit, she looked just as she had before with a hint of a smile. “I have no Zevit problem Something.” It seemed she had put an end to that conversation with one line, her tone even and serious, but no severe. When he extended the book and began talking about what the storyline was she blinked, her eyes bulging and she took two steps back from the magus, her hands coming out in front of her as if he were trying to pressure her to read it. Hearing that Zevit was behind the choice in reading did not surprise her and to this she said nothing, only replied to the bound pages. “Oh . . . I do not think I would like to read that. I hope it is a good choice for you.” She just hoped he didn’t want her to explain anything out of the index for disaster, she couldn’t bear to have her sensibilities pricked more today.
~
*Something eyeballed Nadejda for a moment as if he wasn't entirely sure he believed her...but then, of course, he had no reason <i>not</i> to..she'd never lied to him about anything, and had only shown herself to be forthright and trustworthy. So, his suspicious look turned into a broad smile and he nodded approvingly* Good, I'm glad you two have come to realize you need each other and there are things more important than petty bickering. The idea that I was going to have to spell <i>anything</i> out for anyone about..well..pretty much anything, was a pretty disturbing concept to me. *he nodded and laughed..he was even good-natured enough that he could joke about his own naivete. That subject apparently settled in his mind, he went on back to the book* Well, it's a good start. One book won't make up for a lifetime of the Void though, I suppose. Still, Zevit has quite a library so I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually. Don't worry, I won't ask you about that anymore. *he smiled broadly..he had actually picked up on the fact that the whole topic had made her uncomfortable, before. As such, he'd come up with a way to not do that to her again..*
~
Nadej hadn’t lied to him at all, in her mind the situation was done, fixed . . . she was leaving and she wouldn’t have to deal with the Zevit situation any longer. So when Something began speaking she blinked and set the pale blue orbs on him quietly letting him finish before she responded. “Something, I have no Zevit problem because I am removing myself from the equation. I do not need her for anything, unless I want to have a headache . . . I have lived my entire life with out her and I think I shall keep with what works best. It has been nice up until this point.” She was being logical about the situation, her tone never turning rough with the Genasi and her expression never changed. When he went on about the book she looked uncomfortable suddenly, her eyes diverting from him to the people around them and only landed on Something after he had finished speaking. “Oh, it is quite alright . . . I simply do not know much about the subject. I am sure Zevit will know a great deal more about it than I. So she is more logical of a choice . . . especially if she has a library.” She fell silent then, watching him quietly as if determining something in her mind.
~
*Something listened to Nadej's words, thoughtfully..then after a few moments, finally nodded and smiled, softly* Very well. You must do what you will, of course. I guess I had assumed you to be the sort of person who couldn't leave the opressed to their own means. I suppose you must have had other motivations when you jumped into that fight yesterday. I apologize for wasting your time, Nadejda..and wish you the best, wherever you go. You've been kind to me. *he nodded and smiled, then leaved back against the side of the building again, and opened his book, putting his nose back into it and picking up where he left off*
~
“Zevit is hardly oppressed Something.” She said defensively, her expression turning hurt as he finished speaking and he went back to reading his book. “As I saw yesterday, she seems quite capable of taking care of herself with out my help. I am going to help those who are the victims of these Khaasta, I can not sit idly by and dig through riches while the people who it has been stolen from are walking around with their essence stolen. It is not right and I shall not do it. My place is finding the creatures that did this and bringing them to justice. Hopefully I can find out enough information to do that at least. But, I can not do my job effectively if I am being constantly insulted by a cleric who has an obvious distrust to match mine. I was willing to work with her until she flew off the handle on me earlier, which just proves my inner conflict. I can not trust Zevit, you may do so as you see fit, I can not and will not sway your judgment. But, my history and my experience tells me she is not to be trusted and I can not bring myself to do so. Forgive me if you feel I have let you down or fallen short in your eyes. You have been kind to me as well and it makes me sad to have to leave you like this.” The “This” part of the last sentence might as well have been said as “Leave you here with Zevit” but it was not said in such a manner. Not wanting to disturb him any further, she turned and began walking away from the hospice.
~
*Something didn't look hurt or particularly even bothered that she was going. In fact, he didn't even look up from his book. He did reply though, in his strangely muffled voice...smiling softly to himself..* No, the people who have been stolen from are opressed. And if you care about taking care of those oppressed, you'll do what's necessary to make sure they are taken care of, whether you like it or not, yes? Just the way I'm doing right now. *he paused, as if to let that sink in, then went on* It stands to reason that the lizard-people we took care of yesterday were the weak or stupid ones...the smart, strong ones went with the leader. Judging by how they reacted to my spells, even the weak ones weren't inept at all. Just stupid. Which means, any one of us going it alone is likely to die. You are obviously a warrior of some sort...which means you will need a good healer. I am obviously a mage..which means I need someone to take hits for me. And she..*he didn't say Zevit's name, tactfully enough..* being what she is, is effectively a cripple without either of us. Now, I suppose you could go and find replacements for the both of us, but we both know it's unlikely you'll come up with anyone that works as well with you as we've both already proven we do...nevermind that it seems unlikely you'll find anyone as skilled as us. Surely it's occurred do you that if these creatures are running as unchecked as they seem to be, that they must be quite adept themselves? I can't imagine the local constabulatory letting something like this go just out of hand. Whether I trust Zevit or you is irrelevant. This is not a time for petty squabbling, I think. And if it does get out of hand, I have a simple enough solution...one that I learned where I'm from. We don't have many arguments in the Void. *he chuckled softly..there weren't many people to argue with in the void, for starters...* Anyway, no I don't feel you've let me down or fallen short. I think you're just not using your head, and neither is she. Terribly odd, I think..since you both know far more than I do. *his eyes then did leave his book, to look at her and smile..again, jokes at his own expense. He was fully aware of the limitations of his own experience. Just as he was fully aware he needed a healer and a meat-shield if he wanted good odds of staying alive..*
~
As Something spoke, the Paladin’s feet stopped and she listened quietly, her back to him. It wasn’t as if his words cut her, but he had made valid points that she couldn’t ignore. Could she find other mages in the city, certainly . . . but she would have to explain the situation to them. Clerics were a dime a dozen, to any god you could think up and any who aligned themselves with good and just gods would rally to her call. But, again it would be much easier to use those who already knew what they were up against rather than waste more time finding people and then have to explain everything to them. Nadej was not only a woman who thought about the just thing to do, she also thought about what was most logical in the situation. She had been willing to work with the tiefling, she didn’t like it but she would do so if it were necessary . . . even if she would sleep with one eye open. That was until their little spat earlier, it became clear that despite how well the three had taken on the Khaasta, working well when they did not know each other was different than working well when over half the party did not trust the other half. She did not take offense to him implying he did not trust her, after all, he did not know her. It was only right to not give trust fully until one proved themselves. Just like he would have to earn her respect and trust, she would have to do so with him. It was the most logical course. Zevit did not seem to understand this. She just expected Nadej to immediately trust her just because she ran a hospice. She expected her to bow down at her feet and lick her boots because she gave her shelter for one night. Nadej did not care if Zevit did not trust her, she knew the woman did not, and she could really care less. “I will not apologize for anything I have said or done. Nor will I beg or grovel in front of her. If she wants my help, that is fine. I have given her enough respect to call her by her name at least, a thing which she has yet to do for me. I have made my feelings known and been open from the start, I have not pretended to like or trust her in the least. So, it will be clear my intentions on this trip are only to help those who are in need. Though, I seriously doubt you will convince her of anything Something . . . .” She gave shrug of her broad shoulders and turned to meet his gaze then, returning the smile before adding. “But, if you can, I will work with you both on this to try and resolve the problems with the Khaasta.”
~
*Something's smile widened almost immediately and he nodded in agreement* Of course. I'm not suggesting you trust or even like anyone. I'm simply saying that to accomplish what you..and the rest of us, presumably, want to...that putting up to it is probably the best course. As to Zevit..well, go talk to her yourself, I give you my word neither of you will have ill to say of each other. *he nodded and smiled..waiting to see if she'd go. He seemed entirely sure of himself in what he'd just said...not that that necessarily meant much, considering how much he knew..but there it was. Of course, he did have a bit of an ace up his sleeve...if she did go, he'd attempt an ability that came natural to his rather scarce race..one that'd leave a 20-foot radius centered on her wherever she might go for the next five minutes..completely and utterly silent. That should keep them from arguing with each other..*
~
The clerics were quick to get Zevit, since she had told them to do so. She rather liked the silly little Genasi. She met him on the fourth floor, raising a brow as she said, “Y'finish th'book a'ready?” with a bit of surprise. “A'm gonna star' loanin' them t'ya three a' a time,” as she began leading upstairs. Zevit had spent a few minutes picking out some reads for Something, but she hadn't expected him to rip through a book in about four hours. At this rate, she might be able to keep him supplied for three or four weeks. The priestess wasn't in her armor any longer, and her clothes were wrinkled. She kept rubbing the sleep from her eyes, but she didn't look irked at all at being awakened. She led him past the wards safely again, and once more to her library, talking as they walked. “I thin' y'gonna like some 'f th'other books I 'ave.” She smiled. “An' alrigh', I'm impress' y'read it tha' fast. I know y'as brigh', bu'....”
Standing before her library, she pulled down three more books. One was another play, this one about a king whose children were rivals for the throne, and whose refusal to stand together in the end left the kingdom too weak to resist the outsiders. The next book she picked for him was one on comparative religion, regarding the many different pantheons of the planes. She'd selected it for its neutrality; it read more like a catalog than anything else. The last book she found for him was a bound manuscript detailing the habits of fiends, written by scholars researching them. She passed him the books, and then said, “'Ere, this'll las' you...er...'til tonigh', by the looks o'it.” She then began turning from her quarters, leading out. “A' gonna shoot. Comin'?”
~
*Something had wandered back into the hospice after his semi-successful talk with Nadejda. He asked around for Zevit, saying he was ready for more books, and then waited patiently while Zevit was summoned. Immediately he brightened whens she showed up and he smiled softly* I'm sorry to bother you again, Zevit. I'll take time to memorize the next ones you give me better. *he nodded and smiled, following her on up into the library. He proferred the book he'd borrowed from her, being gentle with it as if it were a priceless treasure..there wasn't a bit of damage done to it. He obviously prized books of any kind quite highly. He took the three books with a nod and packed them away in his pack carefully, smiling broadly at her* Thank you..I'm sure I'll cherish each of them. *he nodded again, but paused when she said what she did last..* Shoot? What do you mean? *he assumed, of course, that he simply wasn't understanding her usage of the word..he wasn't quite sure what she meant exactly by it..but he gestured for her to lead the way all the same, out of curiosity more than anything else. If she wanted to show him something, most likely it would be something new...and he was always wanting to learn of course..*
~
“I'mean shoot,” she said. She led out into the hallway and one room over, a large, L-shaped room which had a separate, locked room to the side. The floors here were covered with carefully woven, though well-worn, straw matting. About a thirty foot square section of it was quite empty, able to accommodate single combat comfortably, while there were two training posts a little bit further on. A set of holes, into which different arms and weapons could be fitted, was quite ingenuously fixed into the wood, making them quite versatile. One was fitted with a wooden greatsword, the other as a sword-and-buckler man. There were several wooden training weapons available. Down the long access of the room was a small target about fifty feet away with a heavy wooden backstop marked by any number of missile-strikes. There were a few gouges on the floor, as if thrown hatchets or hammers had done a number on the wood, but most of the damage game from the bolts and arrows fired down the way. The wooden backstop had been fronted with a great deal of very dry straw tied in very large and tight bales, catching the projectiles without damaging them. The locked room, opened with one of her keys, contained the the non-magical arms that were not in use. A number of empty spaces were there for the weapons held by those guarding the Hospice, but most of the items were untouched. The weapons, as expected, were chosen for a mix of reasons; she needed mancatchers and other non-lethal means of controlling situations, spears and the like for crowded hallways (not to mention the low cost), and so on. She emerged from this room with her bow, a short weapon with a heavy wooden stock and some small, gnomish-crafted sights bolted onto the frame. The thingying lever had been worn smooth from being handled frequently. She picked up a heavy case of bolts, too, as well as her quiver and a sharpening stone. The heads had to be ready to use before nightfall. “'Ere,” she said, thrusting one into Something's hands, another light bow. “Figure y'd wanna shoot too,” she said. His bow was a bit lighter than hers, and she didn't have enough money to put expensive sights on bows aside from hers. Inside the limited ranges of the Hospice, it was rather hard to miss.
~
*Both of Something's brows went up at her elaboration..which really wasn't. But he figured he'd see soon enough at any rate, and simply followed along with her. He peered curiously into the armory when she opened it, and took the bow she'd proferred to him. He handled it rather like it was entirely unfamiliar..but he still demonstrated he knew how to thingy the thing. He chuckled, and smiled* Interesting. So, you have a place to practice shooting here. I confess I haven't ever shot all that much. *not all that uncommon, of course. Any sort of weaponry tended to be rather shunned. Which isn't to say there also weren't plenty of mages who dabbled in marksmanship. He was at least semi-competant. It would become quickly evidant that he wouldn't be using any sort of bow in practical combat though. After a few shots, he spoke..not stopping what he was doing...* About Nadejda. You do of course realize that we need her, yes? Unless we plan on wasting a lot of time trying to find someone else. More specifically someone suitably inclined to our cause and at least as skilled as she is. I don't know about you, but I don't feel inclined toward going into this thing with the lizard-people without someone between me and them. That armor of yours you were wearing earlier looks impressive, so don't be offended..but I don't think your skills are best used in that fashion. I apologize if I disagreeumption was in error again. *he stopped what he was doing and looked over to her for a moment, smiling...then went back to looking down his bow, preparing to fire*
~
“Ya'. No' much on tha' fifth floor. M'quarters, Harmaen's, Yuvis, Horan's, Kavana, and Duri's, them bein' the priests', 'cept for Har, this room, a couple store rooms, an' a small place we meet. Tha's about it,” she said regarding the upstairs. “Bu' this room we sometimes le' the bashers inta. Keep them fit an' sharp.” She took her place at the mark, then was examining every bolt before it went into her bow. She checked them all for readiness, but they were in good shape, having been kept in their oil cloth. She was a skilled shooter, and took time to begin showing him how to execute the things he was thinking about. Zevit was not a great warrior, and never would be; she was a spell-caster first. However, her hands were nimble, her aim steady, and her strange eyes sharp. She was usually hitting a bull within fifty feet. She would occasionally physically grab Something's hands or shoulders, or tild his head to fix his cheek on the stock, or go over a good squeeze of the trigger. But for the most part, he let him just keep making mistakes until he hit something. She was immediately in lower spirits when she heard about Nadjeda. “Tha' without some basher mixin' it up, aye, we ain' goin' after them. Tha' I realize. Tha' she's an insufferable pregnant dog who's go' a stick shoved up her ass sid'ways, tha' I realize as well. 'Ow 'er 'ead manages t'keep 'er ego from 'splodin' out her nose is a mystery o'the planes,” Zevit said coldly. She didn't hate the woman. She just disliked her intensely. She didn't wish her harm, just ill. Zevit wouldn't mind seeing the self-righteous, snooty warrior humiliated and made humble, but she didn't want to see her hurt or impoverished. She lined up her sights again. Lining up a shot, one eye closed, she ceased her breathing and gave the lever a gentle squeeze. The bolt flew dead on, which pleased her, but she was instantly loading another into the slot, not dwelling on her shot. “N'y'right, anyway. Much as she is a disgraceful pain in m'ass.” She paused. “Y'don' even -have- a weapon, d'ya?” That was rhetorical. “Wha' are y'comfortable with?” Maybe he could swing a club, which really was no different than a mace was. That was probably it. He'd need a knife as a tool for sure.
~
*Something chuckled and nodded to Zevit when she said what she did about Nadejda...how those two women felt about each other was no secret at all. Nevermind how the two species felt about each other in general..* However the two of you feel about each other, we'll just have to live with it so we can get done what we need to. I don't think it's required that you like or even trust each other, hmm? I think it's safe to say we can trust that the both of you will do your best to accomplish our goals, at least. In any case, she's still hanging around outside I expect. You're going to have to go talk to her. She won't beg, and I don't expect you to either..but she's a prideful thing and has gotten it into her head she's unwelcome here. I can't imagine how that would happen. *he chuckled...he'd missed their little altercation earlier, but he could just imagine how nasty they must have been to each other when he wasn't present. That said, his eyes went back to the weapon he was holding..then back to her, and a brow raised slightly, the now-familiar look of confusion crossing his features..* Why would I have a weapon? I don't know what I would be comfortable with. Something that keeps me at a distance, like this bow, maybe. I don't like the idea of wading into a fight. That's what I want Nadejda around for.
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #7 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:16am » | |
*All in all, so far Something had come to decide that there was something to be said for the Void. Which is to say, the place was dull as hell, sure; but on the other hand, the sheer deathly silence had some plus sides to it. For example, he couldn’t recall having to play mediator between two women who could very well kick his ass on a whim before. Between the relative lack of people and the sheer silence, arguments weren’t much of an issue. At least, not that sort of argument. People might pantomime arguments with each other…or hurl fireballs back and forth. But in either case, people either got tired of it quickly or someone died. Either way, it wasn’t an issue that people broached quickly…nor did such issues last long when they arrived. If nothing else there were always plenty of places to storm off to with nobody else to bother.
Something was very odd even for someone from his home, of course. Which is why he was in Sigil in the first place. Rather than feeling uncomfortable in a place with…well…stuff…he was merely out of sorts. This was mostly because of scholastic desire. He, much like most mages, had an ironclad, bullheaded thirst for knowing things. Not just magic—though that was a big thing—but just about anything at all in Something’s case. However….curious and fairly bold for a voider or no…after he’d somewhat smoothed out the little spat between the two women, even he needed a bit of a break from people. He had perched himself out on the front entryway of the hospice and resumed his reading…voraciously flipping through one of the books Zevit had given him, and generally just keeping to himself. He had all his things with him…he was baisically ready to go whenever someone got it through their head that it was time for some lizard-person-thumping. In the meantime, he was putting a nice big dent in his reading. Which would soon no doubt start to be a huge source of chagrine for Zevit..*
~
Resting up so she would have as many hours after dusk of activity in her as possible, Zevit had only kept loose tabs on Something and really tried not to think about that pampered, spoiled, bloody-
About Princess. She had lost the respect of deserving a name and hadn't earned it back.
She had emerged near dusk, however, and found that Something had already lain aside another book and had two for the road. She was indeed going to regret this, or else would just let him throw books into the Fortress and keep them there until they were returning to Sigil. She was fairly sure they were chasing them out of the City of Doors; the Khaasta were too many and did not seem likely to stand and fight, even against a smaller number of warriors. She was ready to give them chase out of the City, too. Draped head to toe in green-tinted mail, with a coif, she broke that outline only for her shield and wide belt.
She had her shield up over her head and behind it as a pavise, her mace at her belt and her crossbow in both hands. With Something ready to go, now they just needed the Princess and some time to patrol the ward. Zevit had had plenty of time in the Lower Ward; it wouldn't be too hard to find the Khaasta. The biggest problem was that she didn't know much about them, and likely the d**n lizards had some escape plan. Khaasta didn't call Sigil home; they lived out on the Ring. No matter. Chances are they would have to track them for some distance, and she had forgotten to tell the young Voidling to be ready to break down a portal for them.
“Oi, Somethin',” she said, “I was thinkin'. Y'know the Art more than I,” which was not to admit ignorance. She -did- know quite a bit about magic. “Th'woman got her beauty ba' b'breakin' one of the jars th'Khaasta 'ad. Y'think tha's th'only way to help sods who got th'r looks takin', or no? 'cause if 'tis, we 'ave t'be ready t'take as many as we kin back t'Sigil, an' maybe anywhere th'lizards been. Or'f we get the trinket they be usin', maybe y'figure ou'f it migh' be able t'restore those 'o los'?” She also was more than pleased to see no sign of the aasimar, but Zevit did admit that was spite. They -did- need the meat shield...er...warrior. “An' 'ere's the Princess?”
~
“Here.” The “princess” had been above them, her body perched on the top of the Hospice’s second floor window outcrop, scanning the lower ward as far as she could see. It had been good for her to cool off and get her head straight. She knew what she had to do, even if she did not like the thought of doing it, but for the sake of prosperity and peace she would do what was needed. Though she was not going to apologize to the teifling, she would never do so. “And, my name is Nadejda, Zevit . . . if you need me to write it down for you then I will be more than happy to do so.” She had agreed to work with the woman, they needed her as much as she needed them and she made no attempts to sound otherwise. But, if the she-devil did not curve her attitude, she could just as easily walk away as she had almost done earlier.
The Paladin pushed herself easily off the ledge and let her body drift slowly to the ground, her wings carrying her in a gentle current to the space just beyond the two, her eyes moving to Zevit and then to Something. “Are we hunting?” She seemed eager to be off, the prospect of helping people overwhelmed her sometimes, the thought of paying those Khaasta back for what they were doing drove her to work beside Zevit . . . even if she was not thrilled with the prospect. Maybe some day she would let them know why . . . for now she fell silent, those pale orbs of infinite blue shifting from one to the other as she waited.
~
*Something didn’t even notice when Zevit came out…at least, until she spoke. His dark eyes lifted from the pages at the sound of her voice, and immediately a pleasant smile crossed his features. If nothing else good could be said about Something, he was quite pleasant. Ignorance is bliss, indeed. He simply didn’t have much to worry about. Despite that pleasantness though, it was clear he was taking every word Zevit said clearly. He thingyed his head slightly to the side, thoughtfully…until they heard Nadejda’s voice, of course. At which point, he just pointed a slender finger upward and widened his smile a bit* Nadejda is right above our heads, it would seem. *honestly, he hadn’t realized she was back from wandering around in town…not that he took it as a bad thing the same way Zevit did. He’d just had his nose buried in books and wasn’t paying much attention to the outside world at the time. He closed the book up he was working on and put it carefully into the pack that was sitting beside him, then looked up in time to see Nadejda float down. He laughed rather gleefully, like a child, and clapped his hands* Those things must come in handy! *he nodded…then after a moment, re-applied his mind to the question Zevit had posed to him…responding to the best of his ability for the benefit of both of them, not just the one. As usual, his voice was quite muted…almost sounding muffled. Like he was talking through fabric.* Well…I suppose I would have to study the device they are using before I could determine exactly the best way to countermand the effects on a broad scale. Sometimes, it’s as simple as destroying the device itself. Sometimes not. In the meantime, we seem to have established at least that destroying the containers releases the…energy, or whatever it is. It’s a rather curious effect…I haven’t heard of anything remotely like it before. Except perhaps in the case of a Lich’s phylactery. Let’s hope this isn’t the work of some sort of…lizard-lich. While I’m sure the fellow would have quite a bit of interesting information at his disposal, I’m sure such a being would be more apt to flay us than share it. *he shook his head ruefully…then shrugged and smiled, looking between the two of them* So…hunting it is? I brought a special spell today just in case they try retreating through any portals on us again. *he nodded and smiled, then pushed himself up to his feet…hefted the pack, which was obviously fairly heavy to his rather frail body…pushed his arms through the straps, jostled the pack around so it was sitting mildly comfortably…then simply smiled and waited for a yea or nay on the idea of going to find the lizardmen*
~
She glanced up, seeing there the woman watching the streets. Congestion would block her off somewhat, but there was a bit more to see than from street level. Zevit's own plan had been to hunt from tavern to tavern. Bubbers with loose lips would -definitely- talk; that's what they did. And while they might chase a few false leads that way. Still, Sigil was much too large to simply search by wandering.
Of course, the first thing the woman said was to imply Zevit could not remember her name. It amused the tiefling greatly that the little celestial got into such a tizzy over a minor barb. “Y'talked such a big game of earnin' respect, s'I decided t'play it. Y'insulted me in m'own house an' threw a tantrum. When y'earn a name, I'll let y'know,” she said plainly. Meanwhile, she turned her back to the woman, and to Something. “Yea', 'ee're, but before we go chasin' 'em through the streets, I'as thinkin' we try hittin' up where th'people're an' tryin' t'fin' leads. When 'ee get close, I cas' t'find their jars, the ones they use t'trap people's beauty. Tha'll tell us where -they- are. But we'd 'ave to hurry after them, then, 'fore they move ou' of range of the spell.”
She glanced sideways at Something, then said, “Aye, tha's wha' I was thinkin'. If th'thin' they use 's broken, the...hells...beauty's still in the jars more likely'n'no. S'I was thinkin' our bes' two goals are make off with as many's we can of the jars an' take th'item for y't'break it down an' see how it works. Now, abou' the hun'. They lookin' for youn' people, probably easy prey, good lookin'. I'd say, they likely pickin' bubbers off the street. We coul' bound from tavern t'tavern, try stay off th'beaten paths an' look for where they migh' waylay some poor sods. An', then we get them.”
~
A smile pulled at the corners of her lips when she glanced at Something, he seemed to get that reaction out of her for some reason. It was the same smile she had given the children inside, it was tender and warm, and unlike most smiles it actually reached those clear blue eyes. “Yes, Something . . . they do tend to come in handy.” The white feathers folded up easily as she stood waiting for a reply and had assumed something venomous would come out of the other woman’s mouth. Nadejda rolled her eyes and shook her head, as she suspected the teifling had completely misconstrued her meaning earlier and was using it to throw her own tantrum. Nadej had been calm and collected . . . Zevit was the one who threw the temper fit and stormed out of the room like a child. It was amazing how the she-devil twisted things to her point of view, even when the events never happened. Zevit wanted truth and so Nadejda had given her what she asked for. She would not play the game however, if the woman wanted to be childish, it was her prerogative. “The immaturity is overwhelming.” She said softly as if to herself, her body turning to the side so her eyes could scan down the street with the stoic expression plastered on her face. Though, with the way she was positioned, it was clear she would not turn her back on Zevit, preferring to keep her in her peripheral vision. Nadejda would make no other attempts at speaking to the woman, even if she decided to respond to her. She was not going to play this ridiculous game with the teifling, instead focusing on the task at hand. She was positive the she-devil was not going to allow anyone to lead but herself, it was obvious in her speech patterns and mannerisms, and thus Nadej waited patiently for her to stop gabbing and get moving.
~
*Well…there was still a bit of snideness, but this was some improvement, at least. Something’s smile didn’t falter one bit. He looked between the two ladies, and laughed* A winged woman…and a she-devil in a set of armor that probably weighs more than me. Whatever would my mother say about the company I keep? And here you two only have problems with each other. *he sniffed as if he were offended…then almost immediately laughed again, and gestured on away from the hospice* Sounds like an excellent plan to my unlearned self. I don’t care who’s leading, but I suggest we get a move on before everyone goes to bed. Otherwise one of you is going to have to don a dress and play the bait yourself. And that is a subject I’d rather not broach. You’re bad enough without something to argue about. *he smirked a bit, then set about concerning himself with making sure his new weaponry was going to be out of his way…he clearly was not used to having either the mace or the crossbow on his person. When he’d met the both of them he’d been entirely unarmed, actually. Now, though…he’d been fitted with at least something to defend himself with aside from the Art…not that he thought himself likely to use any of it. At the moment, he was just looking forward to getting done what they were setting out to do. He really was like a child. Not only were they setting out to get something good done—something that needed to be done by someone—but he’d get to see even more of the city!*
~
Guarionex found the cheapest bar he could. After all he wanted a lot of beer for his money. Usually he would have been able to flirt with this bar wench or that one and get a few free drinks but now he had to wave both his hands and his feet to get any sort of attention. It annoyed him to no end. His money still spoke the universal language and so after two hours of waiting he got what he wanted. Guarionex settled in one of the corners with a big tankard, refilling his cup whenever he took a big swig and found it to be empty. The music in the place sucked, he knew he could do ten gazillion times better but he didn’t even dare go to the stage after talking to three or four guards and a few merchants. Everyone was ignoring him… it was as if his charm had fizzled with whatever those things did to him. d**n those lizards!! He probably should go and fight them or something, but he was too depressed for that. With his mojo gone he had the comfort of drunkenness. “Boo… gwet thems off the stage!” he said to whoever was playing at the time.
~
Nadejda was being passive-aggressive and pouty, but Zevit considered it better than hearing her speak, and she hadn't voiced any better plan. She didn't -like- the aasimar, but if she had heard a better plan, she'd have taken it. She didn't. Nadejda's murmur drew no reaction; if she heard it, she hadn't responded. Zevit had shut her up. Good enough.
“Sh'say y'go boy, an' grab one while y'can. Why don' she 'ave gran'kids yet?” Zevit said, laughing a little at the idea. “Ba', this mail weighs 'bout twenty. Light'as 'ell,” she said. It was true. Greensteel was not quite mithral; it cost no where near as much and was not as comfortable, nor could one hide it under clothes. But it was lighter and stronger than steel, and made a fine suit for a slender fiendling. Zevit hoped to find a good greensteel breastplate and pauldrons to add to it, of good enough quality to enchant. She had been scouring the markets, but with little success; most of the metal went straight into the Blood War. “An' no one go bed before at leas' antipeak, Somethin'. Taverns'll be jumpin' for -hours.-”
“Alrigh'. Unless someone's got a better plan, leh's get going, Somethin'. Princess,” she said. She started off. ((Assuming no better plan is offered...)) They spent the better part of the early evening and night wandering the ward. Occasionally a gang of roughs eyed them as a target, but they were just too heavily armed for most blood-blades to take the chance. They would duck in to one or two taverns, ask a few people about the Khaasta indirectly, and get no where for a while. Zevit tried a few places she knew, and many she did not. Ale-houses in the Lower Ward were more common than ticks on a dog. They went to kip after kip, asking bartender after bartender if they'd heard anything. Even after three or four hours of wandering, they'd hit only a small smattering of the places in the Ward. Sigil defied all imagination in size; many said Sigil was itself infinite, and if it wasn't, it sure as all hells was huge.
They'd stopped in some second-rate dive where a fourth rate musician was being pelted with rotten vegetables. A dead cat bounced off Zevit's pavise and ricocheted onto the stage. A live one flew true and went berserk on the entertainer, momentarily stopping the show to claw his way to freedom. The crowd was...well...groundlings. Most were probably Hivers, or so they seemed to Zevit. Hivers stepping up from pure scum to lower-class working scum. She felt bad for them, but even Zevit didn't have enough compassion to risk her life every five minutes trying to operate her place in the Hive. She preferred to help those she could actually do something for.
Nothing from the bartender. They were getting ready to leave when they saw a thoroughly <i>uninteresting</i> man. Zevit was about to just ignore him entirely. And then, when they saw how little they gave a d**n about him, they realized he was just what they were looking for. Of course, they still didn't give a d**n about -him-; it was <i>impossible</i> too, except that he was exactly who they did give a d**n about. The circularity was...
Zevit made a subtle gesture to him, then waited for someone to take initiative and go see him. She -would-, if no one else did, but might as well throw Princess a bone.
~
Nadej waited patiently, never commenting to Something’s jests and not looking to the teifling either. He made jokes on a very serious subject to her, there fore laughter was not an option. Besides, she had not started anything with the woman this afternoon. In fact she only corrected her on her name . . . yet again. Apparently the teifling was not capable of being un-rude, so she would have to deal with being called a princess for a while. Instead of letting it continue to get to her however, she let it go. The game would no longer work on her. Zevit thought she was pouting, but the truth was, she had let it all go. She didn’t give a d**n what Zevit thought or what Zevit wish to perceive in her little world, so it became more of a non-interest approach to the teifling. She did not respond verbally to anything anyone said, especially Zevit, and before the woman could start gabbing more she simply started walking towards the way they were facing, leaving the two standing there until they too walked and caught up. Each bar was just as uninteresting as the last and it seemed for the longest time that the she-devil’s plan was a big fat flop and a half. It wasn’t until the last dive they entered Zevit had spotted the equally uninteresting man. When she pointed to him Nadejda’s eyes followed the line until it rested on the blue tinted fellow. He was just plain, if not pointed out her eyes would have drifted right over him. It was how she felt towards the woman in the alley and the Paladin in her took over, compelled to help him regardless of the effects. It wasn’t him really she was rooting for, it was the need to help the unfortunate . . . and if anyone fit that description at the moment it was this man. With out a word she turned and strode towards the drunken bard, her pale orbs moving over him slowly, almost as if she was forcing herself to see him and then she spoke. “Excuse me . . . may I sit?” Her tone was polite, but it held no warmth.
~
“Was? Are you talking to me?” Guarionex said to the silver haired bombshell that neared the table. He couldn’t believe someone actually approached him after a day of practically getting ignored by every person he had approached. He was dressed in short pants and boots, and that was about it. His speech was slurred, and he smelled of alcohol. He looked around to make sure that she was asking to sit at his table, but since there was no one else at the table but him and he was to himself in the corner it really left no other option. He smiled then, his leg moving up to kick the chair nearest to him slightly out. “Suuureeee.” He said, eyeing her over. “Hey bartender another cup!” he said, then remembered that he will probably get ignored. “Ah… I thinks you’ll have to ask them fwor it.”
~
*Something…well, he didn’t seem to mind in the least when the plan didn’t seem to be working out terribly well from the get. He was just happy to be running around seeing so many strange and amazing things. There were so many beings he’d only read about in books to meet…so many bar brawls to narrowly avoid…so many strange nooks and crannies of this strange city to poke his nose into where it didn’t belong. Everything was new and shiny to him, no matter how smelly and broken-down it might actually be. In the bar where they finally found something on the vein they were looking for, he got caught up with the music, for instance. He’d never heard music before…and as such, he didn’t know good music from bad. To him, this may as well have been a savant-level performance. He didn’t cheer for the musician though…it appeared that wasn’t the custom. So, he wandered over to the bar to purchase himself some food to throw at the musician. Maybe this is how they made their living…they got food to take home with them. He bought a ham hock, then moved in for the kill, their little mission forgotten for the moment. He lined up carefully, winged the ammo at the musician, then grinned at him from ear to ear even as the rather heavy bullet travelled toward his target* You’re welcome! Keep up the good work! *he grinned, then turned and headed back through the bar to find Zevit and Nadejda…completely oblivious to the damage he’d likely just done to the musician….and the appreciative looks he was likely getting from the audience. When he finally found them, he sidled up next to Zevit and leaned in a bit, watching Nadejda…he spoke low, so as not to interrupt whatever it was she was doing* That fellow sure is…uh…interesting. Think he’s met our new friends? I’m not sure, since I’ve never met one of course..but he looks a lot less interesting than you’d think a water genasi would. Maybe he’s just something else I haven’t read about? *obviously, even if his knowledge was gapingly lacking in many areas…his powers of observation weren’t sub-par, by far..*
~
Hivers were a funny lot. The second someone had bought a whole ham hock – holy hells, who could -afford- one? - they became a wealthy individual. Something was already now being eyed by three or four ladies of the evening, and three or four ladies, and which were which would be an issue to settle with divinations.
The Princess shut up. As far as Zevit was concerned, since she had kept talking cheerily to Something, it was a major victory. All she wanted from the aasimar was a body between her and the Khaasta.
She had approached behind the aasimar, Nadejda left to the task of introducing herself to him and such. They were looking at one drunken genasi; the water genasi had drunk like a fish. She waited to see how much they might get out of him if they did nothing for him; if he needed to be sobered up, quickly, she was ready to kill his buzz with a word.
She did see Something come in; this was better handled by Nadejda alone, Zevit thought. She lay her hand on Something's arm and said in a low voice, “Aye, yeah, probab'ly did. Let 'er handle it. I'll go talk t'the barten'ner an' see if 'e heard somethin', aye? Don' get inta trouble now,” she said. Of course, since she didn't pull him away from the genasi and the aasimar, it wasn't much. Zevit just didn't want Something to interfere. She didn't think Nadejda was the best choice to speak to the genasi, but sixes and sevens, it couldn't be something and they had already started talking. Besides, she could go talk to a few others.
Now, Hsalia had been a little put off when the armored woman stood next to the handsome boy with the jink for meat, but she'd pulled away. Hsalia could barely afford buttons, but those that she had, she undid one of before preening her greenish hair. She then strode her way through the crowd, wearing a mix of poor perfume and booze, before coming up on the Void Genasi while his little, armed guardian wasn't there. She sidled up along him, laying a hand on his forearm and smiling a bit. Her voice was dusky, and eyes dark; her hair was the color of pine needles and her skin of drying grass. Her teeth ended in small fangs, a bit serpentine.
Hsalia said, “Well, 'lo handsome.” Her accent was not as thick as Zevit's, not by far, but she -had- spent some time on the wrong side of town. “I saw you lob that at the singer. My name's Hsalia,” she said. She began gently tugging him toward the bar. “Would y'care to buy a lady a drink or two?”
Zevit, meanwhile, went to the bartender. By smacking the bar with an armored fist, she got his attention right away; armor hid most of her features. She said, “'Eye there. 'M lookin' for a bit of chant,” she said.
“I ain' got none,” he said.
“Y'wan' me t'preten' I fell out the tree yest'day, fin', bu' it's you're soddin' ass which goes broke 'en,” she said. She canted her head, then flashed three silver pennies subtly. He leaned in close and the two began whispering.
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #8 on Dec 27, 2007, 11:17am » | |
It took almost ever ounce of concentration the woman had to focus on the man, her eyes wanting to slide away from him but she found if she stared at his eyes she could maintain the gaze. She knew if she glanced away for even a second she would lose interest in talking to him. The need to find out what had happened to him fought the urge to ignore him however and so she responded kindly. “Yes, of course I am speaking to you.” The grin was barely registered and as he kicked the chair out she made the best nod she could before sitting down in a smooth graceful motion. As he called for the bartender he was indeed ignored, though the woman waved a hand at the air regardless of his last comment. “I am not thirsty, but thank you. I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions . . . but perhaps I should wait until you have sobered up a bit . . . .” She looked at him in an uneasy manner, wanting to leave him be, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Instead she waited patiently for him to respond.
~
Guarionex caught someone tossing a big ham to the stupid singer that was stealing his thunder. Of course he wasn’t supposed to play at that particular bar, but he could have been if someone paid him half a mind! “YEaaah! Get him good.” Then he thought he must be really drunk because the guy looked like a void Genasi, but with more mass than he had imagined them. When the woman sat down he planted one elbow on the table and cradled his chin to look at her. “Yes and upstairs, well… actually… hmmm….” He looked around looking for something. “Yeah upstairs, and I’m not druinks… and even if I were… I can do this druink! Lets go sweetheart.”
~
*Something smiled and nodded agreeably to Zevit…for once something she’d said was almost entirely understandable without needing any deciphering…so his response, for once, was quick..* Okay. He’s a nice enough fellow…if he doesn’t walk to talk, tell him you’re my friend…he seemed quite pleased to meet me for some reason. *he shrugged and smiled…he didn’t understand why and of course nobody had elaborated…but what the hell, may as well use it to their advantage. Once Zevit took off, Something’s dark eyes went back to Nad and the water genasi..looking at them for only a few moments, seeing the wisdom in letting Nad work her magic. The genasi seemed quite pleased to see her indeed. Of course, he didn’t get much time to meddle anyway…a hand was placed on his arm and he turned his head to see this new person. His head tilted slightly to the side curiously, and he smiled broadly…he was always happy to meet new people* Hello! I’m Something. Nice to meet you. *he nodded his head in greeting, smiling still* No, I don’t think I’d like to buy a lady a drink right now. But if I find a lady needing a drink, I’ll come straight to you for one, thanks! *he nodded and smiled* You should be commended on your business sense though. Very convivial. *he smiled broadly again, looking every bit the sucker that he was…as usual…*
~
“Yer name is Something?” Hsalia asked. She canted her head, lips drawing back into a little O of curiosity. She was a bit shorter than Something, and certainly taller than the zu'ling; she tried to follow Something's curious expressions and his bright smile and subtle put-down. What she got from it as she drew him a little closer to the bar, was that he had a good, dry wit and -clearly- wanted to have a little chat with her. She said, “Oh, n', I meant -I- would like you t'buy me a drink, Something. Surely ya'can, han'some?” she asked, pausing to give his arm a light squeeze.
Zevit, at the bar, leaned in and said, “I'm lookin' for some Khaasta. Big group of 'em. All I wanna know's where th'been callin' kip, aye?” she said. “An' for it, I give ya' three pennies. Y'give me bum chan', an' I come fin' y', an' I come reclaim m'money along wit' a bit of you're brains leakin' on the floor. Y'got me?”
She wasn't a large or imposing woman, but she was heavily armed, armored, and smelled vaguely of smoke. Rather than chance it, the bartender said, “Alrigh', I scan ya'. Whatcha wan' is t'head into the Hive, up by Dead Man's d**e an' the House o' Bones. Big Group. Dangerous bashers, they're, but lotsa jink, so people take note. Said seen 'em sneakin' into the Lower Ward under darkness, but hidin' down in tha' area, rights.”
“An' they probably take the bridge, 'en. Even' Khaasta no swim the d**e,” she said, mostly to herself. Hell, if there were a dung elemental, even that would not swim the witches' brew of sewage, refuse, corpses, undead, rotten matter, and sludge that made up Dead Man's d**e. THAT was the border between the Wards. The d**e smelled like all Nine Hells rolled into one stinkpot, and it was enough to keep everyone of means on -one- side of it and as far as possible. Everything within a hundred yards was permeated by its reek.
~
Nadejda did not catch Something’s performance, because she was too busy trying to stay focused on the Genasi in front of her and it wasn’t easy. Still she kept her attention on him and when he began addressing her she listened, not really understanding what he meant about going upstairs. Why would they need to go upstairs for him to ask her some questions? It made no sense. Instead she shook her head and gave a gentle sigh, her full lips parting to let the air be exhaled before she tried again. Then it struck her what he had meant and her brows furrowed, a bit of anger rising inside of her. She was here trying to help him and he was hitting on her, making perverted comments that would normally get half his face punched off. Instead she kept her composure, he was drunk after all. “That is not what I wish to ask you. I would like to know if you have . . . encountered any lizard looking men . . . they are Khaasta and they might have stolen something precious off of you.” She tilted her head to the side as she blinked, her eyes opening and he was still there, even if the pale orbs started to shift off of him before she drew them back to his eyes again.
~
“You know them? nuts… yeah they did just that, those d**n Khaasta, theys stoole my groove… I hate them!” He stood up. Then that wasn’t enough, he stood up on the chair, and since he wasn’t getting enough attention he shakily stood up on the table. “d**n you KHAASTA! I HATE YOU ALL!” he said to the top of his lungs, which were very powerful lungs indeed. Then he proceeded to shake his fist up in vengeance and to demonstrate what he would do to the Khasta once he found them with a kick here and there, but that just had him loose his balance and fall back down from the table. It was probably a bad fall, but he was too drunk to care. He ended up on the floor, and his mug with beer spilled, but that didn’t matter. He groggily began to get up again to fill his mug. “This stuffs is awful…” he said, then he remembered Naj again. “So where were we?” he said smiling at her.
~
Nadejda seemed more interested in what he had to say than at the man himself. After all, he was completely uninteresting, but she needed information out of him. When he stood up however she blinked, her eyes wanting to drift away from him as he moved out of the line of sight she had forced herself into staring at, but she did follow him eventually. As the genasi climbed up on the table she stood up and shook her head, a hand motioning towards the man as if to beckon him to come down. “It . . . it is understandable to be angry . . . but please . . . you are going to hurt your . . . .” She did not get the rest of the sentence off her delicate tongue before he fell backwards. If he were a bit more noticeable, she probably would have reacted faster, but her body didn’t seem to want to do what she wanted it to do in regards to the man. Brows furrow as she stepped forward too late to stabilize him so he did not fall and those pale blue orbs caught him falling off the table and onto the floor. Wincing slightly, the paladin moved around the table and extended a hand to help him up, a frown pressing on her perfect lips as she watched him lay there on the floorboards. He bounced back easily at least, her eyes falling off of him for a moment to glance around the room in search of Something and the she-devil. She caught sight of Something and blinked at the woman who was leading him towards the bar. It became a struggle suddenly. Did she go to help Something, the genasi that she had already promised to help. Or did she stay behind and help the new genasi whom she had recently vowed to help. It was an inner struggle but in the end the water genasi was chosen, he was in more need for help than Something. At least Something could fend for himself if needed, this man before her couldn’t even get beer, much less help if it was in fact urgent.
So the woman forced the azure pools back to Nex as he spoke, her expression looking as if she were trying not to swallow something bad she had eaten. Even that did not diminish her gentle features. A hand reached out to grasp his beer mug and slide it away from him slowly as if she were going to take a drink of the swill herself. “You were telling me about the Khaasta. Where did they attack you? How many of them were there? Did you see where they went afterwards?” She had so many questions and so little time to ask them all . . . much less wait for him to sober up to answer them. She needed the information now. Instead of giving the beer back she pulled the mug under the table out of sight, hopefully out of mind with all the questions she had flung his way, and poured it slowly on the floor. It wasn’t as if anyone would noticed, she just hoped Nex didn’t.
~
Nex leaned back and stole a mug from the adjacent table. He thought that she just wanted some beer for herself. He wasn’t about to deny a beautiful lady the pleasure of his company and some beer. Until now no one had been interested in his story. He had to rake his drunken brain for a bit, but the information was recent enough in the grapevine and even drunk he knew his stories well. He smiled, and then chuckled while refilling his cup. “Ahhh you are that group that fought off a group of them, did they stole your mojo too sweetheart? I don’t think so… you still look good to me.” He declared while taking a good drink from his beer.
He had forgotten half of her questions by then. “Let’s see…” and he leaned to look at her eyes, his eyes narrowing as if studying something in them. “I need help and you need information, we might have something going on here after all.” His hand that was not holding the mug rose to stroke his chin. “If you help me I can show you exactly where they attacked me… the pikes are long gone but I bet they haven’t gone far. They don’t exactly travel in light numbers… if you get my drift.”
~
Well, -that- got her attention. The Genasi was screaming at the TOP of his lungs over the crowd, creating one of those awkward moments where everyone at the party falls silent and stares. And, surprisingly, the Genasi did not even seem to notice. He was then on the ground. And no one seemed to give a d**n that he -was- shouting at the top of his lungs and so on. Zevit looked up. A little glitter-girl was drawing Something off, too. She could -see- her working him. And Zevit knew just how vulnerable the young Void genasi was! She had two problems, and there was no easy way to pick which one mattered more at the moment. She had to save Something, she thought, from his glands. (Really, his naivete was a more serious problem than his hormones, but Zevit didn't -yet- know he was completely naïve even in -that- regard.) Besides, the water genasi was just so -boring,- and even Princess couldn't screw up something that simple, could she? She looked to be doing fine. They would have to meet up afterwards and compare notes, so to speak.
She returned a few minutes later. Hsalia had done her best to sucker poor Something in, but Zevit had grabbed his arm and pulled him away, claiming to be his girl and pretending to be angry. She was lying, of course, but Zevit was armed and armored and Hsalia was having no piece of that confrontation, not to mention Zevit was pretty convincing. She had a feeling Something would not know she had been lying – he was so naïve though quite sharp. He'd no doubt say something if he did think she was telling the truth.
“M'ah, a girl like tha', y'jus' need t'stay away from, Somethin'. She sees ya'as a meal ticket. Migh' be a glitter-girl, migh' not, but she ain' plannin' any good for you. String you alon', ge' y't'spend coin on 'er. And, n'offense,” she looked quite amused as she said it, “I neveh' met someone who 'ad jus' -really- fallin' righ' off the back of th'turnip cart as you, Somethin'.”
She led the poor Void Genasi back to the aasimar and the water genasi, who had just picked himself up off of the ground. He just looked too drunk to really be of much help. Zevit said, “'ammers an' bells, he's more bubbed than...” and she actually trailed off, not having a good expression. “'m I gonna 'ave t'clean 'im up quick-like for him t'show us where 'e was attacked?”
| |
|
Los
Peasant
member is offline
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 25
| | Re: PS: Chapter One: Defilers of Beauty
« Reply #9 on Dec 31, 2007, 7:19pm » | |
Yes, it is. *Something nodded and smiled matter-of-factly…something wasn’t nearly as odd a name to him as it was to probably –everyone- else. Again, it was a problem of point-of-reference. He had none. Sure, he’d yet to meet anyone named something, but prior to meeting her, he had yet to meet anyone named Zevit. Anyway, the point of a name is to provide a unique identifier when referencing a unique individual, right?* What’s your name? *he laughed when she elaborated on what she’d meant earlier by buying a lady a drink, his brows shooting up in surprise* Oh, buy –you- a drink! Why, certainly. *he nodded and smiled..she seemed friendly enough, why not buy her a simple drink? Of course, that question would be shortly answered, even as he allowed himself to be lead toward the bar and he lifted his hand to flag down the barkeep. This was about the time Zevit decided to save Something.
Now, something was quite confused about what happened next. That was reassuring though at this point—it was quite familiar ground for him. Like that favorite old spell you have been using for ages, and know it like the back of your hand. He went through the motions like an old pro—scrunching his eyebrows together, drawing the corners of his lips back just so…he looked like he was going to reach up to even add the cherry on top with a scratch to the side of his head, but his arm was now snagged by Zevit. Which left him with no free arms until Hsalia released the other one. Again, he allowed himself to be lead off by the arm, continuing to look rather confused by the angry Zevit. He looked over his shoulder and shrugged slightly, apologetically toward Hsalia…he truly hadn’t a clue what the hell was going on, after all. Thanks to Zevit’s reading material, he knew the guy was usually the last to know—or that’s the conclusion he’d come to at least—but this was ridiculous. He cleared his throat a bit, tentatively, then finally spoke to Zevit as she carted him off back toward Naj and the drunk genasi. He’d totally missed the water genasi’s performance. That was –probably- quite lucky, or he might have had a ham thrown at him too—or worse. Anyway, Hsalia had been quite a bit more interesting than the mojoless bard, so that’s where his attention had stayed. Now, it was much the same—he wasn’t at all interested in where he was going, so much as he was focused on what the hell had just happened to him…* Uh…turnip cart? Is that what locals here call the Void? *he blinked, that was a rather strange axiom..especially since he didn’t even know what a turnip was. There certainly weren’t any in the Void. At least, not that he was aware of. His mere existence defied thoughts quite so definitive, even in a place that was supposedly defined by its lack of anything in it…* Okay, I’m going to assume that was a performance to liberate me from that…uh…more-evil-than-apparent woman, until you tell me otherwise. *he wasn’t at –all- sure whether Zevit had been simply putting on a show or not…but it seemed safest not to assume anything on this subject. Zevit –was- armed, after all. He didn’t know much, but he did know he didn’t want a mace applied to his face. Apparently from what Zevit had already told him, his face worked pretty well just the way it was.
Now…the drunken water genasi. Curiously, once Zevit brought attention to him, Something didn’t have any trouble focusing on the guy at all. Mostly because his general demeanor was..well…interesting, even if the guy himself wasn’t, so much. His eyes narrowed a bit as he examined the guy quite interestedly…then his eyes shifted to Zevit* Bubbed? Is that like…sigilian for ‘without mental faculties’? *he too looked a little doubtful as to how helpful this guy could be…but then, he’d read that some believed the effectiveness of a more physically-combat-oriented people to be directly inverse of their mental capabilities. Maybe this guy would be a supreme meat shield. Something could always see the use for another one of those, even if the guy might not turn out to be great conversation…..or all that interesting. Anyway, for a change Something –thought- he might actually have something helpful to contribute, suddenly smiling brightly* More bubbed than…Bahgtru! *he nodded a smiled brightly. Ironically, the name he’d chosen –worked-….but that was purely accidental.*
| |
| |
|
![[Home]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/home.gif)
![[Help]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/help.gif)
![[Search]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/search.gif)
![[Login]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/login.gif)
![[Register]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/menu/register.gif)
![[Search This Thread]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/search2.gif)
![[Send Topic To Friend]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/sendtopic.gif)
![[Print]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/print.gif)
Logged