The Story of Scars (Yorick / Duma C)

[Yorick]

The bar was quiet; most of the inn's inhabitants were asleep. But for Yorick, the day's events had shaken her up, and she couldn't sleep. So she was downstairs, sitting on the bar itself, her weapons all laid out on the floor near her, recently cleaned and oiled, and her feet, bootless, propped on one of the rough-hewn wooden stools. Her head rested on her left arm as she scribbled in the journal propped on her knees with her right. Her hair, which needed a trim, hung unevenly over her shoulders, and her armor was laid out neatly against the wall, the metal gleaming with scratches, cuts, and dings, the evidence of her rather tumultuous lifestyle.

This was a different Yorick, however, than the tough and stony front she presented. This was her inner self, which she usually hid from the gazes of the judgemental masses. This was the Yorick who could barely read and write, the Yorick who secretly harbored a wish for a supportive husband and a life of security and peace. This was as much a part of her as her armor and weapons.

Putting her pen down briefly, the Halberdier picked up her flask and took a draught of the strong whiskey within, shuddering as her gaze caught the vicious Bael fangs she'd saved from the encounter.

"That was too close for comfort."

Shaking her head, Yorick went back to writing, her brow furrowed as she tried to spell "endangered." What a terrible time that had been. If it wasn't for Duma, Ajari, and the rest of the group, she'd certainly be Bael supper. Which was a terrifying concept.

[Duma]

Duma sighed. He had spent a good portion of the the last two hours staring at the inn's ceiling, contemplating the days events. The baels proved tougher opponents then he expected. He gently rubbed the cloth bandages wrapped across his chest. He considered himself fortunate, a few broken ribs was nothing compared to losing a limb or a life. He was glad none of the others were seriously hurt. He slowly and carefully got up out of the warm bed. Duma rubbed his hand through his messy hair, and let out a yawn. His sword master garb was folded neatly on the desk next to him, and his gauntlets laid gently on top. He sighed a bit, and carefully put his boots on.

His body hurt whenever he made certain movements such as stretching or crouching. It was due to this pain that he opted not to put on the rest of his clothing. His undershirt and pants would be enough for now. He frowned at the prospect of being forced to take it easy for a few weeks. He slowly made his way towards the door, then down to the bar. Perhaps a good drink would be enough to help lull him to sleep.

He noticed a Yorick sitting at the bar seemingly engrossed in writing something in a journal. a soft smile etched onto his face. It was good to see her up and about, especially after taking such a nasty bite from the spiders. Duma took note of the dimly lit weapons scattered on the floor. It was quite an impressive collection of arms. He he approached the bar and took the nearest free seat next to Yorick.

"Evening there Yorick. This seat taken?"

[Yorick]

Finishing her sentence, Yorick read over her journal entry and nodded once in satisfaction. Suddenly, a voice startled her, and she quickly flipped her journal closed, lest her lack of schooling become too apparent. Twisting, wincing at the sharp pain as she did so, Yorick swept her hair out of her eyes and saw Duma, who took a seat next to her. She noticed that he wasn't wearing the robes he had been for the job; instead, he was sporting a more normal shirt and pants. She again marveled at the fact that anyone could move so agilely and deftly while wearing the equivalent of an evening gown. She'd have to ask him about it. But first, she'd be polite. Where were her manners?

"Huh? Oh, Duma. No, feel free. I'm glad to see you're up... Feeling better?"

Cocking her head inquisitively, Yorick stammered a little and then finally asked her question, in a rather rushed and embarrassed manner.

"Um, well, uh, if I can ask... How do you fight so elegantly and precisely with long, flowing clothes? Don't you get all tangled in your robes when you're trying to fight?"

Yorick abruptly trailed off, her face slowly turning a shade of pink very similar to her hair. Grabbing her flask, she took a draught to calm her nerves before proffering it to Duma. Why was she feeling so nervous? It was an honest question, and he seemed like a nice enough fellow. Not judgemental or rude, as far as she could tell... She needed to relax.

[Duma]

He sat himself on the bar stool. He tried to sit up as well as he could. Yorick quickly closed whatever it was she was writing in. Duma didn't mind it much everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything important."

He ordered a small glass of whiskey from the bar man. He carefully turned in his chair to face Yorick. After all if one was going to engage in conversation with someone best to do it while facing them. He took a shot of the whisky provided to him before paying for it with a few gold coins. Yorick asked him a few questions and he responded in turn.

"Hmm. I could be worse. How about you? They told me you were under the toxin's effects for a while." He asked casually. The response to her second question required some thought. He stared blankly for a moment, as his mind tried to think of an answer.

He never really noticed how loose his attire was. He hadn't recalled a moment where he had tripped over them since he obtained his sword master robe. Hmm.. perhaps since the bottoms have been hemmed. The whole thing was customized for him. As a going away gift from his first boss.

"Uh.. to be honest." He had a slightly sheepish grin.

"I've never really gave it much thought. I rarely take off my uh.. er.. long flowey clothes. I keep it on during training. My body is used to any drag it might give." He took another sip of drink.

"If... I may ask. Your style intrigues me. I've yet to meet anyone who can carry and wield this many weapons on them." He casually pointed to the floor.

"Most people tend to specialize, myself included. How did that come about?"

[Yorick]

"No, no, you're fine. I was just finishing up a journal entry. Nothing big."

Tucking her book away, Yorick drank with the man, listening politely as he finished his response. At least he was feeling all right. It was better than being bad, she supposed.

"I'm... Also decent. My side still hurts like hell, but the healing magic sure was helpful. And Ajari's work with that antitoxin. Man, if it wasn't for her... I'd probably be a Bael appetizer. Which would be the worst way to die of all the scrapes I've been in so far. I don't really even remember much from the battle to when we arrived back at town; it's all kind of hazy in my mind. Nasty stuff, Bael toxin."

As Duma explained how he'd trained to become accustomed to his robes, Yorick grinned along with him. It seemed rather logical, now that he explained it. Training was almost always the best way to get used to anything. She wasn't sure she valued speed as highly as he did, though... She'd much prefer to have her armor. After all, it would stop more spears than fancy cloth.

When he asked his own question, she too was forced to stop and think.

"Well..."

Looking over at her weapons and armor, Yorick twitched her toes for a little while, and then took a quick drink from her flask.

"I suppose it's mostly because of my upbringing. I didn't really grow up in the most...prosperous environment. I come from the Isles, see, and a rough part of them. So I started fighting young, and as I got older, I found that to support myself and my family I needed to be able to win my fights. Not simply many or most, but all. And when you can only wield one type of weapon, it's hard to win. So... I picked up the lance to go with my sword. And then, during my time with the pirate crew, I took up the axe as well. Suppose all I need is the bow now, but that seems like a lot of work for just having range, which I can do with my knives, javelins, and throwing axe easily enough. Plus, sniping really isn't my style. I'm a much more rough-and-tumble kind of girl. I get down and dirty, in the fray."

Yorick fell silent. Had she said too much?

[Duma]

Duma listened to Yorick talk about her experiences. The swordmaster Had never need to the isles, he'd heard many nasty tales from of the place from people among his travels. He generally tried to avoid the western isles all together. But after hearing Yorick speak about her upbrininging it made him recall his own.

"That is quite noble of you. Mastering all crafts to survive and support your family." He finished his drink.

"Huh.. we kind of grew up the same then. With a few key differences. My twin sister and I were adopted by mercenary folk. We grew up learning how to fight to support ourselves. It was a decent life." He paused for a moment staring at his empty glass.

"Don't blame you one bit. There is something about being in the thick of battle that is just down right fun." He smiled softly.

"I am actually a bit jealous. You get to brag about surviving a bael bite. Even if the toxin made you loopy." He thought for a moment.

"How about we swap some stories? I'm a bit curious to hear about your pirate life. I've only set foot on a boat once in my life and it was a simple ferry to cross a river." He scratched the back of his head. Gee Duma. Did we forget it's late any maybe she might not want to talk about a pirate's life. Maybe she wants to get to sleep.

"Um..that's if you don't mind me prying."

[Yorick]

"I suppose you could call it noble. I just called it life."

Hearing about Duma's upbringing, the Halberdier nodded. She could empathize, and, to be honest, she respected the man more and felt more comfortable around him, knowing that he came from a similar background. She felt she could be more free and open now, which prompted her to smile and laugh along with him as he shared his feelings about combat. It was almost indescribable, yet they shared it -- that love of the rush that came with danger, with looming death and uncertain results.

"Not at all. I'll be glad to share. I'm interested in hearing about your days as a mercenary, too. I've had many experiences as a mercenary, but none for the long haul. Guess I never really fit in."

Settling back, leaning on her arm, Yorick ran her hand through her hair briefly before chuckling softly and looking at Duma in a slanted manner.

"Well, if you want the whole story... I set out from the Isles for the mainland when I was around twenty. I boarded a ship Cordelia Imogen... and stepped off as Yorick. One of the greatest boons I have from those years. You see, I hated being thought of as weak and feminine because of my flowery name. So the shipmates started calling me Yorick. That's why I go by my last name now; it sounds less feminine.

Sorry. That's probably unimportant.

So anyway, I was on a ship bound for land when we were boarded by pirates. So that I wouldn't die, I switched to their side and started as a swabbie for their crew. We raided the port towns and blackened the seas for a good few years together; it was on the waves that I grew skillful with my axes. Now, they're my favorite weapon...

Ah. The sea is vast, and its secrets ebb and flow like the tides. There are many more stories I could share, of course, but I don't want to ramble. Your turn, Duma. Tell me about your story."

Yorick took a sip from her flask and relaxed.

[Duma]

Duma ordered another drink as Yorick spoke her tale. He tried to relax as beset he could without hurting himself.

"Cordelia huh, that's very pretty. Trust me it's better then Duma. My name sounds so ominous. It made making friends very difficult. This scar doesn't help at all." He motioned with his finger on his face in the shape of his all to familiar scar. He chuckled a bit and continued on.

"Well... I suppose if were kinda sorta starting at the beginning. I learned swordplay from my mother. She held a pretty good position with the guild we were associated with. As a family we would go out on hunts, fighting local bandits and such. As I grew up, I.. deviated from the traditional norms of sword play. Instead of being a skinny little speedster, I focused more on strength. We couldn't afford to get taken out by the enemy with one blow, which was usually the case with most myrmidons. So I beefed up a bit to compensate." He flexed his arm a bit to show off what he meant. Then he continued on.

"When I was about 17, Sis and I decided we had enough skill to try and strike out our own. I was a young naive myrmidon. And Sis was relatively new mage, freshly graduated out of the academy. We traveled around. Sticking close to home. We were relatively successful as a duo. Until.." He paused for a moment, and took a long sip of his drink.

"Well... I ended up on my own. This was a few years back mind you. I had nothing left, so I was forced to focus solely on myself. Been traveling the world taking on all sorts of jobs through the guild and such. It's been good so far."

"Ah I'm sorry that wasn't exactly an adventurous mercenary tale. Actually now that I think on it it was kind of sad and boring." There was a bit of red tint to his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his head a bit.

"Uh.. should I try again?"

[Yorick]

When Duma commented on her name, Yorick turned a rare shade of pink, much like her hair, before shaking it off and chuckling.

"Well, to be frank, my name sounds like some potted plant. At least your name has some character to it, some excitement. It rolls off the tongue like thunder."

Realizing the nonsense she was talking, Yorick shook her head at herself and sat back to listen to his story. When he finished, she nodded knowingly and gave a wistful grin before speaking.

"Hah. That's fine. I suppose there's more to us both than meets the eye; we're not your usual bland sellswords. I find your story comforting, actually. It reminds me of my own story, except my siblings and I all scattered. We each had a better shot on our own, so we all struck out alone. I have no idea where any of them are, much less if any are alive."

Taking out her headband, Yorick put her hair out of her eyes and gave a small shrug.

"I can relate to the 'odd jobs' thing. Man, I've been all over. The Isles, Etruria, Ilia, Bern, Lycia... Not Nabata, but let's be real."

Looking pensively at her flask, Yorick spoke again, more tentatively.

"I don't quite know why, but... I think I enjoy monster-hunting the most. Beats me why, but I get such a rush out of smashing fiends around. It doesn't matter how tight of a scrape I get myself into... I keep coming back. Weird."

[Duma]

"Ah I know exactly what you mean." He spoke in a slightly exited tone.

"Except I get my kicks from killing off bandits and human monsters. At least the monster..er monsters act more like animals trying to survive in nature and all that. They don't scheme wars, murders, and kidnap children. Except maybe the bonewalkers. I've no idea what goes on in their empty heads."

"There's something very satisfying about lobbing off a bandit king's head. Especially if they have given good fight. But that's just me." He finished what was left of his drink.

"Oh I've been to Nabata. Hated it. The desert sand gets everywhere and on everything, and you can never seem to really ever get rid of it. I swear, I can still find some grains of sand tucked away in my hair sometimes. Even after washing it extensively. Even worse when it gets stuck in between your armor and skin." He ran his hand through his mostly clean but slightly unkempt hair.

"But the people there were some of the best I've ever met. Hardy people that know how to survive. I learned quite a bit from them. I've never been to Ilia or the Isles. I've kept mostly to Erutria, Lycia, and Sacae. Been to Bern a few times too." He counted on his fingers the places he's been.

"I've enjoyed visiting Sacae the most. There's something beautiful about the grasslands, especially during the spring. When the flowers are in bloom it's like the whole grasslands erupt in a sea of colors." There was a soft smile on his face as his mind flashed back to springtime on the plains. There was more pink and red to his face. The drink was starting to show it's colors. Plus it was slightly embarrassing to be talking about flowers on the plains, especially coming from a guy like him.

"You have any place in particular you are fond of?"

[Yorick]

"Bonewalkers. Brr. I've heard they're a nasty lot. Who knows, maybe I'll run across some... If I ever do, I'll be sure to tell you. But I totally understand you. There's something therapeutic about a satisfying end to a fight, a stamping out of villainy and darkness. It's quite fun!"

As Duma talked about Nabata, Yorick smiled widely and laughed, her whole body shaking slightly as she chuckled, imagining the swordmaster sighing as sand poured out of his ears. When he spoke about the character of the Nabatans, though, she grew more solemn and nodded. That was like the Isles, in a way. Tough people, like plants growing in rocky soil. But the Isles was a bit more... Dirty and developed. The Nabatans were just nomadic farmers or herders, or something like that. People on the Isles had to make it by taking up odd jobs... Clean or dirty.

As Duma described the Sacaean plains, Yorick smiled. It took a lot of courage to speak about something like that, especially for a man like him. She imagined he'd probably be thinking that she thought he was some sort of effeminate freak show...

"That's beautiful. I'll have to see it someday. Better yet, why don't you show it to me? I'm sure that we can afford to take a break sometime and meet to travel to the plains in the spring. Plus, I could show you the Isles. Really, there's only a few gems... But there are diamonds in the rough. Cliffs of sharp stone, slowly growing soft from the relentless smashing of the waves... Whole cities built upon the jagged crags, or nestled into the cracks of the stone. Floating cities, boats lashed together to form the only 'land' some will ever know... The Isles are my home, and I suppose that might bias my views... But I still think they're the most beautiful place in all Elibe, in a way."

[Duma]

Duma had no qualms with what he said. The plains were pretty in spring, that was true. He heard Yorick speak about her native lands. He could almost see the towns and cities nestled within the mountains in his head. Floating Cities crafted from ships? Now that is something I must see.

"It's a date then. I'll take you out to see the plains during spring. Perhaps I can show you the main city. In spring they hold quite a nice festival to honor mother earth and father sky, if memory serves. It has been ages since I last attended." He spoke with some excitement in his voice and a bit more red in his cheeks. He was quite fond of festivals, and it had been some time since he last went with someone. The last time he attended a Sacaen festival, he was working and could not fully enjoy his visit. It was a guard job for a traveling merchant who hoped to make extra coin by taking advantage of the tourists attending the festival.

"And in return you will show me the Isles. I look forward to seeing these cities floating on the sea and the villages nestled with in the mountains. I'll be recuperating here for a few weeks before setting off again. Hmm.. I suppose we need to set a time and place to meet then if these visits are to happen." Duma mused a bit at Yorick's opinion.

"Well at least you have a homeland to be nostalgic about. I know not where my true birth lands lie. And the family has moved around so much with work, that we never truly had.. uh how do I put it.. uhm.. homeland pride?" Sure lets go with that.

[Yorick]

OOC: Whenever you want them to go is fine by me.

IC:
As Duma agreed, Yorick beamed. It would be wonderful to see more of the world... And that would give her a way to go home, to see if her ramshackle house was still standing, or if any of her kin were there. She'd been prolonging it for a long time, trying to forge a new life and escape from the mess of her familial past. But it called her, and she knew she'd have to go back sometime... So might as well do it with somebody. Plus, it was safer that way as well.

"You're right. We need to figure out a good time to meet. Well, wait. Sacae's over on the eastern part of the continent. I'll probably be in Bern or Ilia, knowing the vagrancy inherent in my job... Or maybe here in Lycia, if I keep hunting monsters. Either way, we could meet somewhere central, like Thria. From there, we could go east to Sacae, and then northwest to Remi. I know they have ships sailing to the Isles from there with relative constancy, so it's a safe bet if we don't want to have to wait."

Nodding emphatically, Yorick smiled. This would be a pleasant trip.

"As for when we decide to go, clearly we'll have to do it late winter, so that we can get to Sacae in early spring. I'm open to whenever you'd like to do it, Duma. We just should probably nail a date down, so that we remember to meet, and so that it's easy to find one another."

[Duma]

OOC- Whenever you want em to get going feel free.
---
As Yorick spoke Duma nodded in agreement. Meet back in Thira er.. Back here? Hmm.. He thought to himself, as his mind tried to remember exactly where here was on the world map. In order to reach Sacae from here they would have to cross up through the mountains to Taras, or cross around the mountains into Bern.

“Although we would be given a warm welcome back from Oglaf, leaving to Sacae from here is a bit perilous. Late winter crossing through mountain borders.. Let us try another city.. How about meeting in Taras? Castle town which is the division between East and West instead? We can hop on a trade wagon for a fee.. or for free as guards to Bulgar.” I wonder if the Elder is still kicking.

“I have a few contacts in Bulgar, perhaps I can arrange some lodging of sorts once we get there. The capital tends to crowd so the Inn’s might not be available. Worst case scenario we might have to rough it out in the plains during.” His head was spinning for a bit.

“Estimate, about a month’s worth of travel time… We’d be traveling in a good chunk of the rainy month.. But it is worth it.” Early spring sounds about right. He stared at his empty glass for a moment as his head swirled with thoughts.

It dawned on him that this trip would be the first trip since his travels with Mila, which he would be traveling with a friend. Sure he had taken trips with other people to various corners of the world, but those trips were mostly job related. Jobs which required him to maintain an attitude of professionalism. People won’t hire back a mercenary who misbehaved. He could almost hear his father’s words of wisdom about behavior in the work place. Misbehavior on jobs damages the reputation of the guilds, which in turn affects employment. And if you do not work then you cannot eat. But if he was with a friend, well then he would be allowed to let loose a little. He waited patiently for Yorick’s reply to his idea and timing. He would dismiss himself and return to his room once everything was settled.

[Yorick]

"Taras? That would work just fine for me. Seems like a smart choice. I forgot about the mountains. That's wise. I think that's a perfect plan, then."

Yorick sifted through the information, setting it all out in her mind, before formulating and then speaking her idea of the scenario.

"So we meet in Taras, this coming spring. Early. We'll travel to Sacae, ending up in Bulgar for the festival. After spending time there, we can then make our way to the coast, where I can find us a ship to the Isles. We'll then arrive in the Isles, and I can show you around the many towns and cities. We'll use my skiff, if it hasn't been stolen yet... Heh. And then we can come back to the mainland. It seems to be pretty well thought out, in my opinion."

Yorick smiled. Something about this trip had her particularly excited. There was an element of mystery to seeing a new land, and she was also glad to be able to show someone the Isles. Perhaps it would dispel some of the nasty myths about her homeland. Either way, she felt comfortable traveling with Duma; he seemed like a good guy, and someone she could trust, who wouldn't stab or ravish her in her sleep.

But more pressing was the issue of the here and now; if they didn't get rest, they wouldn't recuperate, and then the whole of tomorrow...or today, from her estimate of the time they'd spent talking... would be wasted.

"I think that'll work. And goodness, the time has flown... Looks to be early morning already. At least one. Where did the time go?"