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Post by Armitage Apolithymius on Aug 14, 2017 19:53:18 GMT -6
Gazing into the stars, Armitage always felt like she was staring into the mind of a grand and majestic being. She often mused about the idea that the inside of all of our minds looked this way. Not the literal brains of course. She had seen enough of those smashed, battered, and otherwise leaking from the skulls of fallen friend and foe alike. Not the brain but the mind. The spirit. The soul. Armitage didn’t put much of her weight into any given deity, but she did believe in spirits and their power. The sky was like that; a great and powerful spirit. Each little light in the tapestry a pin prick view into the other side.
A loud snap from the bonfire in front of Armitage drew her attention back to the ground. To reality. The Sacae plains spread out around her. It was the dead of night. Armitage was unsure of the specific time. She had been lost in thought for what felt like ages. Years. Or, at the very least, a few hours. Feelings of frustration, ambition, and procrastination swirled around like a whirlwind inside her, gestating together into a general feeling of malaise. Despite the time, Armitage knew her fire was large enough that it could gather attention. In her experience, a large fire was excuse enough for soldiers to drop their guards. Drop their guises and interact with one another like real human beings without affiliation, if only for a night. Armitage had met many a friendly bandit that way; examples abound of scurrilous scoundrel by day but hymn loving minstrel by night.
It was in front of such a fire that Armitage had hoped to find herself in front of tonight. A deep sigh escaped her breast. A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. If she was being honest with herself, Armitage would admit that she hated overthinking things. She would also admit that she had definitely been overthinking some things. Everything actually. Why had she made no progress in retrieving her family’s heirloom armor? What was holding her progress back? Why did she have no leads to speak of when it came to her armor? She had burned every bridge and connection she had in leaving the Lycian guard in the first place so would could she even hope to accomplish after she found it anyway?
“Is this my fate? To be so single minded and yet fail so utterly?”
Her eyes fell to her own heirloom armor. It was truly starting to show signs of wear. She had already rid herself of some of the more ornamental pieces. Armored skirts and protective flanges. They were usually reserved to only be worn ceremoniously but the rough life of constant travel, along with having so little to be ceremonious about, led to her casting them by the wayside. She reasoned that they were frivolous. Worth losing if they didn’t slow her down anymore and let her get one step closer to regaining the other half. It had been so long since she had a lead, even one, to go off of. At this point, the search for her armor would be as fruitful as the search for Durandal. The primary difference being that other people would actually recognize Durandal, whereas her armor was important to no one but her now. The last of her family. The last one to care. The last in a long winded joke about quality over quantity.
Am I sulking?
She had such little experience with being emotional that she actually had difficulty recognizing it. Empirically, it would make sense if she were. She had no cause for celebration. Except for being alive, relatively healthy and young, able to survive off of her own devices, and any number of compliments about her physique and appearance. But if she truly felt any of that was worthy of fete then why couldn’t she help but feel so…jaded.
Armitage adjusted the scarf around her neck so her head sunk into it. Her red hair caught in the wind between the fire and the sky and swept over her features. Her thoughts feel back onto ideations of what her true goal was. Perhaps it was time to move past search for her family’s armor. Was there not a saying someone once said about finding lost things only after you stopped looking. Or maybe she wasn’t trying hard enough. Perhaps she had been subconsciously ignoring signs and clues all this time. Unwilling to actually find the armor either out of fear of not having a goal. Or fear of discovering the armor had been destroy. Galvanized for parts or melted down for metal. Or lost at sea on a trading vessel to truly never be seen again.
Folding her legs up in front of her, Armitage let her weight lean back against a log she had been sitting on. Her face rested on her folder arms on top of her legs. The firelight caught her eyes and she stared into it deeply. Figures danced and twirled within the flame and she let her mind spin with them. She had been actively feeding the fire any chance she got. It was far larger than it needed to be for one person. Briefly, the idea came into her mind that she was actually hoping to attract attention. Surely, some kind of diversion would stir her from apathy. The restlessness in her arms and legs was nearly painful. But yet her heart and mind were dilatory. Her emotions a storm inside her that she had no rock, no anchor with which to help weather.
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Rhia
Cavalier
Posts: 36
Profession: Mercenary
Affiliation: Bern
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Rhia
OoC Alias: Kyra
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Post by Rhia on Aug 15, 2017 19:41:09 GMT -6
Rhia had been riding most of the day so far, including what existed of the night so far. She didn't have any particular goal in mind, but she had wanted to get out of Ilia as fast as possible. She may have been a mercenary, but she didn't want any part in this holy crusade that that Kraft person was starting. Unless it spread to Bern, she wanted nothing to do with it. Maybe as she drew closer to the territories of Lycia, she could find better business that didn't put her face to face with a monolithic and far reaching cult of a dead hero, with far more power than she could ever hope to have. To get to Lycia though, she'd have to travel through the seemingly endless and windswept plains of Sacae. Beautiful landscape, she had to admit, and easy for riding, but damn, was it boring all hell. She had purposely ridden most of the day, bar a few breaks that were mainly for Geist, just so that she could get out of the wilderness and back in sight of a city sooner rather than later. There was such a thing as too much time outside as far as Rhia was concerned.
Now, under the dark, starlit sky, she felt Geist start to slow down considerably, likely exhausted from the constant on and off running amd trotting all day. Feeling sympathetic, Rhia began brushing his mane. "Aww, are you getting tired Geist? Sorry if I was pushing you too hard.. Here, how about we go find a place just off the road and rest there until morning, alright?" Almost coincidentally, when Rhia looked back up, she the smoke and light of a fire rising up a short distance away. Leading Geist in that direction, she prepared herself to talk with the lone person that seemed to be there. Slightly suspecting some sort of trap, Rhia held her hand on the hilt of her sword, as it was as more subtle than reaching for the lance strung across her back. This person didn't look too threatening, no more than herself at least, and she didn't seem to have a mount of her own to give chase with, but Rhia just wanted to be safe in the event of some kind of surprise attack.
Bringing Geist to a halt a short ways from the fire, Rhia called over to the stranger sitting by the fire, whose short red hair was blowing in the breeze. "Hey, I noticed you're sitting alone here by the fire. Well, uh, I don't exactly have any stuff to make a fire of my own, and Geist here has reached his limit. You mind if we settle down here for the night? My name's Rhia, by the way." For now, Rhianna waited atop Geist, just on the off chance something were to go awry, but she was more than prepared to hop off and sit next to the fire, and allow Geist to rest.
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Tamaya
Nomad
"When will the killing end? When will we live in peace?"
Posts: 155
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Ambassador of the Cathecassa
Affiliation: Sacae
Guild: None
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Tamaya
OoC Alias: Ryu
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Post by Tamaya on Aug 15, 2017 19:54:35 GMT -6
The plains of Sacae were warm, as always, and the wind spoke to Tamaya as the nomad rode slowly across the sea of grass, now muted in the gentle light of nighttime. Shikoba was quiet, she was quiet, and... the world was quiet. The nomad was at peace, and even Mphezi-Manja was still and did not crackle. It gave her time to think about where she was, where she was going, and where the world was going. Thoughts that were not always pleasant, but always relevant, and definitely necessary in these troubled times. Tamaya felt a deep sense of responsibility for the well-being of her people, and for Sacae as a whole, and so she could not help but be disturbed over recent events and what appeared to be an unending cycle of war, political firebombing, false peace, and then more war. Rinse and repeat.
There was a faint light, far away, that was unnatural. To Tamaya's trained eye, she realized it was a fire. Not a wildfire, like the kind that sometimes swept across the plains, furthering the cycle of life and renewal. This was a camp fire, a fire meant to warm and cook upon. Someone was holding out on the plains. Tamaya was a day's ride now from the Cathecassa, leaving for the rest of Elibe once more. This traveler, whoever he or she might be, was ill prepared for the plains, requiring the creation of fire to subsist. Most nomadic people took dried rations, wild plants, and tubers to eat. Therefore, it must be an outsider, for when the people of Sacae needed fire while traveling, which was seldom, they certainly would not make such a large and ostentatious blaze.
Sighing quietly, the nomad adjusted her course for the fire, and rode quietly. Soon they neared, and, at a distance, Tamaya stopped to assess the situation. She saw two forms, hazy in the gloom and shadows of the moving flames, but distinct. And Shikoba was intently looking, sniffing quietly, and looking slightly curious. Further inspection revealed what looked to be a horse.
So were the two traveling together? It appeared as such, given that the two looked to be at ease. From this range she could not make out any conversation or sounds, save the murmur of the grass and an occasional exclamatory outburst from the fire. Tamaya decided to advance, but was not without caution. She drew Mphezi-Manja, holding the bow at her lap, readying an arrow but not drawing the bowstring, and spurred Shikoba nearer. Rider and mount, in harmony, moved forward, nearer to the edge of the circle of light the fire cast. It was then that her bow, often unruly, decided to express its displeasure at her reluctance to charge straight in and arced, letting loose a loud crackle and a flash of blue electricity that danced for a long moment before fading away.
Tamaya rolled her eyes, not realizing the futility of the gesture, and stayed where she was, quiet. It was better to allow the others to speak first, in case they were hostile.
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Post by Armitage Apolithymius on Aug 16, 2017 2:27:21 GMT -6
Armitage felt the light tremor of the ground beneath her, even as she continued to focus her attention on the fire. Having this much contact with the ground made it easy to tell that someone was approaching on horseback. Thoughts piled on to more thoughts as her mind argued with itself over how to interpret the approaching rider. Should she be worried? Somewhere, amongst the jumble of ideas in her head, her subconscious made a brief note of how far her spear lay from her and how many actions it would take to reach it. The thought was filed away, hopefully proving not to be worth reconsideration as the night moved on.
As the rider spoke, Armitage kept her attention on the fire. When she finished her introduction, Armitage let a long silence fall before her next words. It wasn’t intentional. At least, she was fairly certain it wasn’t. Something about the mood she was in made words and expressions more difficult to muster. When Armitage looked toward the rider, Rhia, flashes and patterns of snakelike lights and shadows flashed over her vision, obscuring the woman. She observed the illusions lackadaisically. Just like staring at the noon-day sun, the fire had left an impression on her vision. She waited for it to start to clear before she spoke.
“Yes. Hello.”
Ah. Yes. Ever the wordsmith. For a moment, the thought of just how long it had actually been since she had a conversation with a real human threatened to jam up her brain. She pushed the thoughts away and found a surge of motivation in the realization of how desperate she was for human interaction of any sort. Even the awkward kind. Armitage relaxed and opened her posture, letting her legs roll out in front of her and leaning back on the log, putting an elbow up as she leaned in Rhia’s direction.
“My name is Armitage Apolithymius. It’s nice to see you out here--another person I mean. I may just go crazy if I’m left with just my thoughts for any longer.”
Armitage tried to let a smile fall onto her face. She observed the other woman. Armitage’s mind fell into old battle practices. Before she knew it she was dissecting the woman’s armor with her mind, taking stock in her weapons and armaments, and trying to put an estimate on just how fit and capable she was. Could she fight for long off of that horse? Or had she grown too reliant on its stamina and would find herself easily winded in a one on one fight? In that moment, as her mind was overstimulating itself on hypothetical combat data, Armitage saw the foamy sweat of the horse around its arms and neck as they became illuminated by the fire light. The observation took her out of her mind. The horse was tired and it wanted rest. The rider most likely the same. Not everything is a fight to win. Armitage shook her head lightly, visibly distracted by her own thoughts.
A crack in the relative silence of the night drew Armitage’s attention. Another rider had approached the circle. Within an instant Armitage’s mind was again ablaze with information. One piece of good fortune was that these two newcomers were very obviously not working together to try to take advantage of her. Whoever this new rider was, Armitage could tell she was Sacaen, even from a distance. The darker hues of her skin and clothing along with the furs of her outfit made that obvious. What would it take to get to her before taking an arrow? She could probably reach her spear, obscured by the fire, and at least stand before the arrow flew. All it would take would be a flick of her spear to throw up the fire and give herself cover to close the distance. Stop. Think slower. Less violence please.
Armitage thanked her trained reflexes. A greener or less secure traveler would already be up in arms at the newcomers display. She remained placid. Reacting quickly was not the same as reacting hastily and Armitage was well versed in their differences. With Sacaens you could almost always count on them falling onto one of two sides. They were either harshly intolerant of outsiders and would attack at the smallest sign of indiscretion. Or they were well metered and poised, open to conversation and trade as long as they were treated with respect. Like an equal. Armitage never considered herself a betting woman, always more eager to put her money down on defending herself with a weapon before words, but with tonight’s mood it seemed more apt to let cooler heads prevail.
Again, in the second titanic feat of the night, Armitage summoned speech.
“Hey there.” Her voice casual. Maybe a little uncaring. Did she care if this person was actually here to attack them or not? “Name’s Armitage Apolithymius. Seems like things are just starting to get interesting…” Her vision flashed to Rhia, trying to get a read on how she was handling the newcomer. “Why don’t you take a seat and join us?”
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Rhia
Cavalier
Posts: 36
Profession: Mercenary
Affiliation: Bern
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Rhia
OoC Alias: Kyra
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Post by Rhia on Aug 16, 2017 12:16:44 GMT -6
Rhia decided to speak in response to Armitage's words following her introduction, sympathizing with them herself to a degree. "Yeah, I'm just as grateful I found another person to talk to out here. Geist and I have been making our way through the plains all day, and while the Sacaean plains sure are beautiful at first sight, they definitely get old pretty fast, and the landscape turns stale, in my opinion at least. It's good for easy riding though, so there's that. Much preferable to many other areas of Elibe, especially places like Ilia and Nabata, though I've never actually been to the latter.
Pausing, Rhia took a deep breath as she stared into the fire for a moment, allowing the flickering embers and crackling flames consume her senses for just a few seconds. "And, uh, I can definitely relate to what you're saying about being left to your own thoughts. That sorta thing can definitely lead to a fast road to intense self doubt at times. Maybe that's just me though? Oh well, anyway-" Rhia was cut off abruptly when Armitage's attention was drawn to another woman that had approached, a Sacaean by the looks of it. She was on horseback and wielded and bow, definitely a threat if she were to be provoked.
A woman of the plains? Hmm, should've figured one of the resident nomads would confront us eventually. Guess it'd be just my luck that it happens the moment I find warmth and human contact. Well, I hope we aren't in trouble or something... Oh gods, I hope she isn't opposed to those of Bernese origin. Seems like it's hit or miss with most Sacaeans. Maybe she won't even recognize the style of armor, who knows? If she does, and ends up the kind of Sacaean who's got a vendetta against the Bernese, I may just find a couple arrows running through me before I can even reach Geist... Yikes, let's try and stop imagining those sorts of things, Rhia. It's gonna be fine.
Seeing Armitage looking I've at her to see how she was reacting to the new arrival, Rhia decided to put on a faint smile as well, despite her moderate exhaustion. "Yes, please, come sit by the fire, if you don't mind that is. We mean no harm to you or any other Sacaeans." Looking slightly worried, Rhia then had a change of tone, "We're not, uh, trespassing on some sacred plot of land or ancient burial ground, are we? That'd be really awkward if that turned out to be true." In truth, Rhia could've cared less if she was standing on some arbitrarily "sacred" piece of land, but from what she knew about Sacaeans, nature spirits seemed to be a big thing, and she didn't know how seriously this stranger took that sort of stuff.
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Tamaya
Nomad
"When will the killing end? When will we live in peace?"
Posts: 155
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Ambassador of the Cathecassa
Affiliation: Sacae
Guild: None
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Tamaya
OoC Alias: Ryu
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Post by Tamaya on Aug 17, 2017 12:31:41 GMT -6
Tamaya sat, motionless, on Shikoba. With both women turned towards her, she took advantage of the opportunity to carefully analyze them, ignoring their words for the time being. The first woman to react and the one in an obvious state of readiness - not nervousness, but taut preparation, like a bowstring drawn back - was "Armitage." A very unusual name. She could not pinpoint its origins. This woman wore armor, and appeared to be comfortable in it, considering how she had poised herself to respond if threatened. She was not hostile. The second woman had not introduced herself, but she was nervous, it seemed, and she chattered too much. Sacred burial grounds? It was clear she was unfamiliar with Sacae, its people, and the customs of Sacaeans.
Sighing audibly this time, quietly and briefly, Tamaya dismounted, alighting on the ground like a bird and walking towards the fire. She stopped abruptly, looking at the other horse that stood, clearly exhausted. A poor state. The rider must not have been in tune enough with the mount, or perhaps had been ill-prepared for traveling across the plains. She turned back to Shikoba, removed some dampmoss from her saddlebag, and brought it to the fire, sitting slowly down and placing Mphezi-Manja on her lap, holding the moss in cupped palms. With an air of extreme purpose, she slowly crossed her legs beneath her and let a breath fade out.
Silence for a few seconds.
"You are not disturbing a sacred burial ground, or trespassing upon the claimed land of a tribe. You are, however, upon the plains of Sacae. Therefore, the unspoken laws, the way of Sacae, must be your guide not only tonight, but as you struggle to live and travel upon the plains.
Respect this land. Respect those who live on this land. Be truthful."
The nomad raised her bow above her head by way of introduction. The dark, heavy bow glinted dully in the firelight, and suddenly burst forth into a bright display of blue sparks, small arcs of electricity that crackled and buzzed before disappearing back within the wood.
"I am Tamaya, of the Cathecassa. I am the ambassador of my people to the outside world. This is Mphezi-Manja, my weapon, and that is Shikoba, my horse.
As one who lives upon these plains and depends on my horse, my bow, and my instincts, I must tell you that I feel pain for the other rider's horse. I know not which of you is the rider, but please give your mount this moss to eat. It will help your horse recover fluid and rejuvenate its muscles."
Tamaya offered up the moss towards the fire, unsure which direction to move her hand after that. She continued to observe the others, her gaze still analytical, her body erect, in a posture that seemed to be most uncomfortable. But she was comfortable. She was resting, now, ready to listen and learn from these outsiders who had stumbled into the great expanse of the sea of grass.
"Why have you come here?"
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Post by Victor on Aug 18, 2017 14:45:22 GMT -6
Night time. When stars twinkled within the sky, no larger than fireflies adrift among an endless blanket of sable tides. Sometimes they even winked to the traveler that gazed for too long. Other times the myriad of burning lights provided enough light that between themselves and the pale beams of light shining from the moon, he could find the path easy enough. Clad in dark leather, softly lit within the embrace of plenilune incandescence. Hardened leather boots compressed long verdite silken grass beneath each step as the huntsman crept, ghostly strands brushing along his coat every hesitant inch he progressed. Palm quietly gripping the bulky notched blade in his hand. Each finger tightly clutching with coiled embrace the long hilt with his index finger pressing tightly to a pentagonal pad within the side of the hilt. Every sense on alert.
He could feel it. He could smell it. Death. Blood. It as such a..familiar scent. Every sound prompted a pause. Pale hues slowly scanning and head pivoting just as far as needed to drink in his surroundings. Victor's left hand quietly lifted to slide the felt mask upwards around his lips, and eventually nose. Screening just how much presence his exhalations gave away while also muting what little sound his breathing did make. When ever he stopped moving, he could hear it now. The grass compressing from weight. The soft folding as weight was applied. Footsteps. He crouched down lower. Back arched and the weight of his torso shifting to his lower spine as he neared the what visibly seemed to be the end of the field and closer to compressed, flatter grassland. His cover would be gone soon. That also meant though, if he was hearing the steps still it was..-
A snarl gave away the presence of that which he thought he'd been tracking, and just enough warning to lunge and roll forwards and to the side as a mass of fur snapped mid leap. A moment later and he'd have acquired a lovely case of "Missing hand" syndrome, the wolf that had now lept out of the field seeming to be the prospective source. He had frozen the moment after he recovered from his roll, knee still to the ground and his other foot anchored securely to the ground. Victor's right arm lifting, blade held higher before the snarling canine snapped at the air with salivating jaws. No doubt it'd been without food for some time if it so viciously attacked.
Click.
His gloved digit pressing in on the button near his weapons hilt. The sound gave the feral hunter pause, and in that time Victor slowly rose to his feet. Behind his mask the snowy haired huntsman spoke in a soft tone.
"Fear not the dark my friend...and let the feast begin. "
He whipped his arm forwards, the wolf lunging as he did. The heavy metal grating as his blade's edges extended and the whip like form unfolded with bladed edges intercepting the leaping hound were a familiar sensation. The weight in his hand as his tool fulfilled its purpose was a refreshing one. The air was punctuated with a single pained howl that split the night with a prolonged cry as the injured wolf fell to its side. Victor's finger hit the triggering mechanism again and his weapon snapped back into place after a single moment to realign, the process rough and jarring on the wrist. Three strides brought him to the wounded wolf, and a single drop to the knee and the sinking crunch of his blade later, it was all over.
--
The skinning process had gone well. Years of practice with the animals native to his island had built his familiarity of the process. With his pack now adequately filled with the new materials acquired from this bountiful hunt he could make his way. Fangs and claws stored for use later. The good ones, atleast. The meat that he could carve off was packed away and he had a freshly cut pelt folded over his shoulder. Gore and blood stained..almost everywhere. He was effective, but he wasn't necessarily clean. Crimson dripped from his gloves, the sleeves of his coat, and all along the sides and tailing downwards. His weapon still housed a drying red blotch along its own length. Though it was almost like a flat, wider tipped blade, the segmented notches were also stained. Keeping his mask raised still, the young huntsman turned to see those flickering flames in the distance. Shadows cast in bulk. Silhouettes. How interesting. A group out here? Well. He'd no purpose for his spoils, except to sell them. Perhaps a prospective there?
Soft footsteps brought him closer to the group. The soft-spoken huntsman's pale gaze shifting to the multitude of figures, and steeds evidently, now gathered around the small fire. Though he made no effort to hide his approach, his left arm gripping the pelt over his shoulder which was still dripping with bodily fluids akin to the rest of the gore stains upon him, his right hand gripped the cleaver like tool. His head pivoting in curiosity, he quietly interjected himself as he moved into the light of the fire. Sable cloak and gloves stained a grey shade and the dark red stains resembling a lighter shade as orange light washed over him. The huntsman's words were spoken as if sighing into them, an almost hushed volume. Soft spoken though he was, his presence projected quite the opposite.
"..Have any of you...an interest...in pelts?"
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Post by Armitage Apolithymius on Aug 20, 2017 6:49:17 GMT -6
The native took her time and chose her words and actions carefully. That was something Armitage could get behind. She was not put off by the silence they shared as the Sacaen took the time to dismount and sit. Having more time to acclimate herself to how people should interact when not trying to kill each other was something she was happy to have in this moment. Armitage felt her expression soften as her face, seemingly of its own volition, remembered how to properly emote.
As Tamaya sat down and introduced herself, a smile pushed its way on Armitage’s face. She actually almost laughed. So dramatic! She wasn’t sure if it was just the proclivities of a Sacaen or if having a magical weapon just naturally gave the woman a flare for theatrics but either way it was amusing. Not only that but Armitage found herself actually getting jealous too! A magical weapon. She hadn’t gotten a good look at what had made the thunderclap earlier but was starting to understand. Now that she could see it in plain sight she couldn’t help but feel a little excited like a child given coin to spend on sweet treats. She made a mental note to press the plainswoman for more details about the weapon later. Doing it now would seem suspicious or maybe even taken as a threat and she was unwilling to break the uneasy truce.
”Thank you for joining us Tamaya.” Armitage kept her words short. For now she was content to let others lead the conversation. Or she was at least willing to wait and see if they tried.
Armitage could appreciate a woman who introduced her weapon in the same breath as her horse and her self. Tamaya was a true warrior. Armitage cast a sidelong glance at her own weapon. Throw to ground, dirty and uncared for. Not much unlike herself. There was a time in her life when Armitage would’ve introduced her name, her quest, and half of her family lineage before the other person might have stopped her. What happened along the way? Where did that enthusiasm go? The pride? Had this quest really taken that much from her? Was it really worth all of this sacrifice? Or had she lost sight of something along the way? Armitage forcefully pulled away from her own introspections. For the moment, she would desperately try to be ‘in the now’ and enjoy some casual conversation. Even if her mind didn’t want her to. Coincidentally, or even ironically depending on your bend/personal definition, Armitage disengaged from her inner monologue just in time to hear Tamaya ask a loaded question that Armitage had to physically struggle not to turn inward for an answer to. She decided instead to vocalize, if only to fill the silence.
”That’s a great question Tamaya. One I wish I had an answer to. Half of the reason is that I’m looking for something and have no idea where to find it. The other half is that this is simply where I decided to stop walking for the day. No more, no less.”
Armitage didn’t return with a question back to Tamaya. It wasn’t until after the words had left her mouth and she turned her eyes back up toward the stars that Armitage realized her response could be taken as hyperbole. As if she were on some vision quest to ‘find herself’ in the Sacaen plains. Surely that wasn’t the case…right? Not only that but she had unintentionally answered in a way that barely prompted for further discussion. Armitage brought her head down and looked toward Rhia, expectant and hopeful that the other girl would continue the conversation with her own answer.
She continued to listen to the conversation but found herself instinctively looking out into the darkness. Something was coming toward their circle. Its approach was so subtle and soft that Armitage had initially dismissed it as a small animal simply inspecting a source of warmth, light, and noise. When a man stepped out from the darkness and into the light instead Armitage felt a chill go up her spine. It wasn’t that the man’s presence unnerved her naturally, despite the blood covering parts of his body. She had been around people like him before in her line of work. It was the silence with which he approached. Had he decided to come up behind Armitage and try to slit her throat rather than coming in plain sight, she had little reason to think he wouldn’t have succeeded. That was what unsettled her.
When he spoke, the ice in her chest quickly melted away and that same smile from before fell upon her face. What a cheesy one liner. Had his presence not been so incongruous with his words she probably would have audibly groaned. If he had looked at all cleaned up, prim, or coiffed then Armitage would’ve been convinced his words were actually intended to be a bad pick up line! But, given his appearance, along with the presence of actual furs, Armitage was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Happy to even. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to respond first when the threat of a laugh escaping her lips existed. She would let the others react instead.
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Rhia
Cavalier
Posts: 36
Profession: Mercenary
Affiliation: Bern
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Rhia
OoC Alias: Kyra
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Post by Rhia on Aug 21, 2017 13:50:35 GMT -6
"Well, I guess it's good to know we aren't necessarily doing anything wrong by being here." Rhia let out a light sigh of relief as the Sacaean explained what must have been some universal creed of the land. Respect this land. Respect those who live on this land. Be truthful... Hm, seems simple enough to me. Don't know what I'd do to offend the grass anyway. And I don't have any beef with the Sacaeans or anyone else I might see here as far as I know. And I usually tell the truth... Yeah, I think I'll be pretty alright here. Not like I plan to stay in the plains longer than I have to anyway.
"It's nice to meet you Tamaya. My name is Rhia, and the horse, Geist, is mine. I assure you that I take good care of him, but I guess I was so intent on getting through the plains as fast as possible, that I overestimated how far Geist was able to travel in one day." Reaching over to the moss Tamaya was holding out, she nodded in thanks as she took it, getting up briefly to feed it to Geist before sitting back down, leaving the black horse with some gentle petting of his mane.
Once Rhia had sat back down, and Armitage had provided her own answer to Tamaya's question, she decided to give her own to and do to the conversation. "Why am I here? Well, I'm making my way to Lycia, actually. I'm hoping to find some good paying mercenary work there. I was in Ilia just a few days ago, and a couple weeks before that, but I decided to leave that frozen wasteland behind. Too cold for my tastes. Not to mention those damned inquisitors trying to lay claim to certain areas like it's theirs by birthright. I didn't want any part on either end of a holy war, so I left. Hopefully Lycia will have things more suited to my preferences, stuff that doesn't involve moral high grounds and indoctrination."
After she had finished talking, she waited for a response from Tamaya as silence fell yet again over the cracking and flickering campfire. As she was beginning to wonder who might start to break the silence, someone appeared amongst the firelight, dressed in all black and carrying the bloodied furs of an animal across his shoulder, which had seemed to drip onto his attire as well. Taking her by surprise, Rhia jumped a bit, her eyes wide. "Ahh! W-who the hell are you? That's quite an introduction you made for yourself, especially given the way you look right now. No offense intended if you're just a simple hunter or something, but surely you realize you give off a sorta... creepy vibe... But, uh, to answer your question, no, I don't really need any pelts, but I won't speak for the others."
What the hell? This seemed normal at first, just me and another traveler, but then a Sacaean who has a bow with lightning powers, and a glorified butcher show up too? Geez, I hope this doesn't get any weirder. Oh gods, what if he sits next to me? Oh no... Rhia seemed visibly uncomfortable by the presence of the newcomer, and she looked back ad forth between Armitage and Tamaya to see if they had anything to input about this, though it seemed Armitage was in a similar spot as her, albeit less uncomfortable.
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Tamaya
Nomad
"When will the killing end? When will we live in peace?"
Posts: 155
Sacae Fame: 1
Profession: Ambassador of the Cathecassa
Affiliation: Sacae
Guild: None
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Tamaya
OoC Alias: Ryu
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Post by Tamaya on Aug 21, 2017 15:30:51 GMT -6
”Thank you for joining us Tamaya.”
A mere nod from the plainswoman, who continued to carefully study the two women across from her.
”That’s a great question Tamaya. One I wish I had an answer to. Half of the reason is that I’m looking for something and have no idea where to find it. The other half is that this is simply where I decided to stop walking for the day. No more, no less.”
"We have a term for that in my tongue. It is "kuyitana kwa mzimu". I believe in your terms it is most closely spoken as "the call of the spirits" or "the yearning of the spirit."
Armitage was a woman who lacked a purpose, then? Perhaps not. It was like when her tribesman had left to hunt alone for many months, wandering in circles through the plains without reason. He had felt a call and had answered it. Perhaps this Armitage was doing the same. She could not judge yet - it was too soon to know. She would continue to listen and learn.
Next, the nervous one spoke, still talking quickly and too much. Her uneasiness was clear. She was not hard like Armitage, and neither was she at home like Tamaya. She was truly the outsider here.
"Well, I guess it's good to know we aren't necessarily doing anything wrong by being here. It's nice to meet you Tamaya. My name is Rhia, and the horse, Geist, is mine. I assure you that I take good care of him, but I guess I was so intent on getting through the plains as fast as possible, that I overestimated how far Geist was able to travel in one day."
The nomad bit her tongue and refrained from commenting at the excuses. She was a rider, and she had a duty to care for her mount. Overestimating the abilities of oneself or one's partner tended to lead to death. The young rider would need to learn that, eventually, but it was neither her duty nor her place to teach her here or now.
"Why am I here? Well, I'm making my way to Lycia, actually. I'm hoping to find some good paying mercenary work there. I was in Ilia just a few days ago, and a couple weeks before that, but I decided to leave that frozen wasteland behind. Too cold for my tastes. Not to mention those damned inquisitors trying to lay claim to certain areas like it's theirs by birthright. I didn't want any part on either end of a holy war, so I left. Hopefully Lycia will have things more suited to my preferences, stuff that doesn't involve moral high grounds and indoctrination."
Ilia... that was the cold land, where she had met a few friends. That was the cold land also under attack from Etruria. While she disliked the way the young rider was speaking, she held no love for the Etrurians. They seemed to be attacking without cause, invading her land with no reason or right. But still she held her peace, keeping silent even after the young rider finished her small speech.
And then there was a scream out of the young rider as another made his approach. Tamaya had noticed him, but she inwardly chastised herself. She had not sensed his presence early enough, and had only seen him when he was nearing the circle. Lapses in concentration and lowering guard like that were dangerous, even with others. She could not be certain that he was friendly.
"..Have any of you...an interest...in pelts?"
At this the nomad felt a dull, deep anger stir within her. She did her best to keep it in check, managing to refuse her body the commands it needed to rise and fire at the newcomer. Instead, she merely stiffened, tensing, her muscles readying themselves for what might become an altercation. Her hand slowly strayed down toward the quiver of adamantite arrows, and her grip on Mphezi-Manja became like the roots of a mighty tree, anchoring her to her weapon.
"You are selling pelts. You are wet with blood. Therefore, you have recently harvested the pelt. Have you done it in a way that is honorable and good?"
The nomad struggled to disguise the rage in her voice, keeping calm with a titanic effort. It would not do to start violence. That was not the way to bring understanding and lasting peace. War did not sire peace. Only peace could sire another generation of peace. Still, the bite to her voice was evident as she continued.
"My people have lived upon this land since the world was created. We take what we need, never more. We live in harmony and balance with our land, and we do not use it to make ourselves wealthy or powerful. We simply live with our world, as we were meant to.
You have taken a pelt. That is right and good, if that is your profession or if that is your need. But what have you done with the rest of the animal? Have you taken its meat for food, its bones for structures or jewelry or tools, its sinews to tie your belongings together? Or have you left the animal, a carcass, upon the land to rot and to fester? Have you honored the life of the animal you have killed, or have you taken its existence for granted and wasted what its life created?"
Mphezi-Manja, seeming to understand the need for careful diplomacy, did not crackle threateningly or arc or make an imposing show. Instead, the bow of lightning was silent, silent and still, and the only thing identifying it as a weapon of a most unusual make was a faint blue glow coming from the inlaid runes.
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Post by Victor on Aug 23, 2017 14:26:04 GMT -6
Such a strange array of responses. Silence, to shock, to..strange..
Betwixt the veil of his mask up to his nose and pale strands as white as snow slightly clinging to his face he could see and read details that told him far more than words could. To hear a tone. See the slight shift in poise. Grip upon a weapon set. Such strange people he'd met since leaving his home. The huntsman didn't answer right away. He instead turned his gaze to writhing flames with tongues of red and orange lapping at the nights air. If he stared at it and focused enough he could almost feel the warmth of the heat. Almost. However he was still in that outer ring of influence. Just far enough to be within illumination but not the radiating waves of warmth. His sable coat of darkened leather lit to a lighter almost grey shade in that light. He took a paused silence further to kneel slowly, his hand clasping at the long blade in serrated cleaver form and sank it into the ground with a muted groan of metal. The segmented portions locked together to maintain its fairly unique blade like shape. Rivulets of darkened blood from the wolf still trailed along the edges like branches in a stream.
He spoke once he grasped for his bag, sanguine droplets trickling onto the grass from his gloves and staining verdite strands with crimson where he knelt. As he shifted the brown bag onto the Sacaen floor he opened it quietly. The scent of death rife within and the jostling of fangs and claws as he slowly extracted a few particularly prize ones as example. All from the recent kill. Gloved digits ensnared a small handful as he revealed them. Once again his voice was soft, and pauses punctuated every few words.
"Who...am I? I..am a hunter. A hunter...from far away."
He turned first to the green haired woman. The pivot of his visage slow as he spoke towards her with nod of his head. His eyes closed for a moment. Though the rest of his face was not exposed for them to see, he was smiling. The same soft tone muffled by his mask left his lips once more.
"Creepy...? How...so? Do you...scare easy?"
The shifting clatter of the fangs and claws as they fell back into their piles was followed by the faint clink as the metal clips of his bag overlapped before he wove the small belt like straps back through them and secured the bag closed once more. This time he looked to the woman with the bow and arrows. Standing to speak as he extracted his cleaver from the ground, grip loose upon it. Seemingly.
"Such...a strange...thought. Where..I..am from..we leave..for nature. "
It was true. On the island he knew as home, all kills were left with something to future those that came upon it. Everything was food to something else. When they died they were food for the ground. Which was food for worms. Which were food for birds. Which fed a myriad of creatures. Such was simply the cycle that progressed life and death. However he had already seen instances of this land and their strange rules. Like the time he'd been given a contract to kill a man in southern Lycia. The guards seemed to try and ignore that part and focused only on "You killed someone,". Or the town in Bern that tried to strip him of his weapons. Some odd policy or regulation. That hadn't ended well for them either. Now he wasn't supposed to return to either. Now he came to Sacae and it seemed they disliked the notion of leaving remains for the wildlife? Either way. The kill was his by way of self defense.
"The wolf...chose its prey...poorly. Such..is life. "
His thumb glided lightly along the small circular rune like panel upon the hilt of his blade as he turned to glance at the other two women. The pelts still draped over his shoulder as they were. The male was quiet once more while he rose silently. His free hand rested against the pelts across his torso as he secured them so they wouldn't slide off. It seemed none of these individuals were in-fact, interested in his pelts. If he needed to wait until he found a larger town, he would.
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Post by Armitage Apolithymius on Aug 24, 2017 12:56:55 GMT -6
Kuyitana kwa mzimu…
Armitage replayed the words in her head. Tamaya made the term seem palatable. Almost like it was a good thing. It was hard to reconcile that idea with the way it was really making her feel. Armitage could agree that she had felt that desire, that yearning, in the past. But it was not the same as this. To her, it almost felt like her body was out of sync with her spirit. Like her soul had lofty goals and expectations and, somewhere along the line, her body had given up and stopped caring. Sudden venom in Tamaya’s voice pulled Armitage out of her introspection.
Of course the Sacaen reacts poorly to the pelts
Keeping her musings to herself, Armitage was starting to regret not reacting faster to the newcomer. Maybe if she had reacted first, pulled attention off of the furs and his appearance, there could still be a peaceful tension to the air. The harshness of the energy in the area was beginning to grate on Armitage. She could stew in her own foul mood but, for some reason, the irritation of others grated her down to the bone. Armitage weighed Tamaya’s words and felt her tone. It was becoming obvious that the wrong move now would ignite the air and cause a fight. Pulling her weight with her elbows, Armitage raised herself into a sitting position on the log behind her, resting her elbows on her knees. Half the crowd standing and still holding their weapons was causing Armitage to lose what little faith she had in her current tactical position relaxed in the dirt. She didn’t motion toward her weapon of course, not in a moment like this. But she was certain to position herself now in such a way to reduce the burden of reaching it, if needed.
Armitage let her eyes drift back toward Rhia. She smiled lightly at the younger girl. Something about her honest and completely open reactions were endearing. Everyone else was weighing the words too heavily, herself included. Tamaya’s common was clear but her tone and cadence sounded too practiced. Too concise. And the stranger plodded along at such a pace that it almost felt like he was literally planning each word individually as it left his mouth. Speaking of their newcomer, Armitage moved her gaze back toward the other pair to catch then end of their exchange. She sighed audibly. Not attempting to draw attention with the huff but truly reacting honestly and without ‘putting on airs.’ She could understand the Sacaen’s intent but, as someone who traveled long distances often and relentlessly, Armitage could put value in the merit of not taking everything just for fear of being wasteful.
“He has a point you know.” Armitage broke into the conversation. “If he acted in self-defense you can’t expect him to take every part of the animal—especially if he has a long way to go.” She found herself absentmindedly picking off chips of wood from the seat of her log and tossing them into the fire as she spoke.
“I think you’d agree that killing to protect yourself is different than killing for sport, right?” Armitage was making the assumption that the stranger wouldn’t mind her justifying his actions further. It seemed like he was already satisfied with his explanation.
“Let me ask you this Tamaya.” Armitage tried to steer the conversation from an argument into a conversation. “If you killed a man, would make sure you used all of his parts? And take the parts you didn't with you? What if you killed him to save your own life?”
Armitage tried her best to sound conversational, not aggressive, but her tone was also so lackadaisical that it could also come off as accusatory. If you had that same care and compassion for animals, shouldn't you extend that to mankind too? She thought briefly on if Tamaya would call her bluff. Maybe the plainswoman had skinned a man or two before and thought nothing of it. Still, that sanctimonious attitude would not do. You can’t chastise someone for not bagging up the entire animal and, in the same breath, say they should only take what they need. Moral high ground was so arbitrary.
She hoped Tamaya would back down. Not out of fear for her safety or fear of her magic weapon. More out of a desire to remain listless. If things got ugly she would have to put effort forward. If there was one thing she wasn’t in the mood for, it was that. For a brief moment she had hope to escape the thoughts and aggravations floating around in her head. But maybe that was a fool’s errand. She didn’t want this night to end in a fight but, if it did, she wouldn’t be surprised.
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Rhia
Cavalier
Posts: 36
Profession: Mercenary
Affiliation: Bern
Affinity: Ice
Profile: Rhia
OoC Alias: Kyra
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Post by Rhia on Aug 26, 2017 11:25:33 GMT -6
Rhia didn't particularly like that Tamaya wasn't saying anything in response to her. She had responded to Armitage, albeit briefly, but hadn't said a thing to her. It wasn't that she wanted attention or anything shallow like that. It was more so along the lines of her feeling like Tamaya was watching her, analyzing her... judging her. Needless to say, it made the cavalier very uncomfortable, and she hoped that Tamaya would stop being so... mysterious. Nobody here was hostile, except for maybe the new arrival, since Rhia was still largely unsure as to what his motives were, and whether he was just a simple hunter, or something more. An assassin, perhaps? Why would assassin assassin be here though, of all places? She certainly hadn't done anything to garner assassin's assign assassination attempt, and she was guessing the others handn't either. Thinking more on it though, it didn't make any sense for a perhaps tenting assassin to simply walk up to his targets and talk to them, so Rhia's theory was pretty much thrown out the window upon that realization.
When the cloaked stranger, who still had yet to provide any real name beyond "a hunter", asked her if she scared easily, Rhia's face got moderately flushed. Crossing her arms and looking away from the man, she said aloud, "N-no, I don't scare easily! You just snuck up on us! I-it only makes sense that I'd get scared in that instance, right? Geez..." Trying to calm herself, Rhia began to say the rest of what she wanted to say in her own head. Me? Scare easy? Come on! In what world would I be scared of a man coming out of nowhere in the middle of the night, wearing a bloodied cloak and carrying some kind of torture device as a wepaon? Wait, that does sound scary... Damn it!
As she was stuck in her own thoughts, she was brought back to the reality of the campfire as she heard bits and pieces of a conversation between Tamaya and the hunter, who still hardly spoke at all. It seemed that Tamaya was getting upset over how the hunter possibly killed the animal, and what he did afterwards. Meanwhile, the hunter claimed he killed it in self defense, leaving what he didn't need for nature to consume, which, all in all, actually sounded pretty reasonable to Rhia. However, she kept any thoughts on the matter to herself, not wanting to get involved in the heated discussion. Geez, if all Sacaeans are as particular and methodical about everything else as they are about making use of dead animals, then it's a wonder they manage to get anything done.
It didn't take long for Armitage to try and intervene before things got too heated, and Rhia found that she was actually making some very good points towards Tamaya. Rhia agreed that sport and self defense were completely different things, a point that she was sure most other sane people would probably agree on as well. When Armitage mentioned using all the parts of a human she kills in self defense, Rhia nodded at Armitage for making such an excellent point, and began leaning in the direction of Tamaya a bit, curious to hear her answer. I know if I had to kill someone in self defense, I'd make sure the body was out of the way, but unless it was in a populated area, I see no reason to bother with it beyond that. Now here's hoping that Tamaya isn't totally okay with using human body parts from people she killed in self defense. Gods, I shudder to imagine that...
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