Selibas
Hero
The Little Wolf
My Word is Iron.
Posts: 455
Etruria Fame: -1
Bern Fame: 4
Illia Fame: -3
Profession: Khan
Guild: Tribe of Sacae
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Selibas
|
Post by Selibas on Aug 19, 2016 23:22:00 GMT -6
Delger drummed his fingers on the hilt of his longsword as he followed his Khan. The low tables were filled with men and women who sat with a warrior's grace. He'd like to challenge half of them, but he could not. He was a bloodrider to his Khan, and at present he guarded him. That was his whole duty now, to make sure that Selibas was safe, and nothing else. Once he had been head Khunanchin, but now he was a bloodrider, and his fight was at the side of his brothers. Glory was to be earned from laying his own life aside, and Delger was open to the prospect. Still, the way some of these men walked, the gait or the way the swung their arms, it made his own blood ache to test them. The scars on his face betrayed his time spent fighting, but it was the smile the man wore in battle that truly showed his true nature as a warrior who felt no exhilaration like that of facing down a horde with blade in hand. However, now he was a bloodrider.
The young Khan wondered as he walked what Delger must be thinking, he'd been unable to read the man since the ceremony that had made Delger swear to him. The man had been unlike anyone else Selibas had asked to take the position, he had seemed somehow more enthusiastic, yet regretful. Like he was giving up his whole identity in order to take the position. The short Khan liked the man, but having him around wasn't worth asking the man to sacrifice so much. Sacaen's had already sacrificed quite a bit, and even being here required some from each and every soul present. The short Khan was pulled from his thoughts when he heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Dale falling into line beside him.
"Yes cousin?" Dale looked down at the shorter Sacaen, "Selibas Khan, my men have checked, you are right, it is a trap. We haven't ascertained who sent it yet, but it looks like it isn't the pirate." Dale practically spat at the word. That was the only way he chose to address their enemy. Selibas nodded, Dale had formed his 'Black Web' only about fourteen days ago. Now hunters and scouts watched both the marching column, every tribe on the plain, and the enemy on both fronts. Gold given as a gift was now used to pay off informants in major cities around Elibe. According to Dale, a small number of men who'd dealt with the Pirate had been willing to sell him information, but that was to be taken with a grain of salt. The most daunting part of the whole organization, was that Selibas knew that at any time, outside of his Torguud or his bloodriders, he was watched by at least fifteen pairs of eyes. Dale would not let Selibas be taken by a dagger in the dark, and the Little Wolf was grateful. He always tried to watch over his shoulder, but he didn't hate feeling like the eyeless back of his head wasn't the only defense against an assassination.
Both Selibas and Delger tensed a few moments after Dale as a swordsman suddenly appeared in their path. The man addressed the Khan, but with a tiger like grace, Delger glided between them, his right hand wrapped about his saber's hilt, his left hand outstretched to show that the man could come no closer. Delger's confidence when his hand was on a sword was terrifying. All pressure left his body the second he was in front of a challenge, every muscle in his body looked relaxed.
"Give me your name so that I might greet you. Then you may speak."
|
|
|
Post by Mana on Aug 21, 2016 8:50:23 GMT -6
The pink-haired woman seemed kind and caring. She also looked older than Mana and had more mature behavior. Mana looked at Midori when the troubadour introduced herself with a polite bow which Mana responded by bowing her head lightly. "It's nice to meet you Midori of Chaklai. Although I hope our first meeting should have been better and more...normal," she said, chuckling with an reddening cheek.
"Ah you are from Southern plains..." Mana had worried expression. She had heard that the southern tribes often had problems with mountain bandits from Bern. Those criminals were cunning and brutal. They weren't very strong and usually avoided difficult fight but they had always been a serious danger. Sometimes those bandits would move further into the plains to seek small and weak tribes just like how they had found Mana's tribe and pillaged the encampment. "Living there must have been quite tough," she remarked. While living in the southern plains weren't all about bandits, the story of raids had made the biggest impression for the young swordswoman because of the trauma inflicted by those outlaws. She seemed to forget that the southern area had many benefir for its inhabitants.
Mana smiled and got up as well when Midori approached her. "A bonfire sounds nice. Definitely something I need. And no, I don't have anywhere to go at this moment. My tribe isn't here. I came here alone," she said. The Sacaen had a sad smile when she was talking about her tribe. Even after she had been assimilated into Arulad tribe, mostly giving in to Terra's persuasion, Mana had never been able to completely erase the feeling of loneliness for being the only surviving member of her tribe. Well, there hadn't been any proof that she was the only one survived the raid but so far she hadn't meet another survivor. "To be honest, I don't even know where to sleep tonight. Maybe I am going to ask Selibas to let me borrow one of his gers or just sleep outside and lie down on the grasses. Hmm that doesn't sound so bad...," she said. Her eyes locked at Midori, expecting the other woman to lead her to the bonfire.
|
|
|
Post by Midori on Sept 4, 2016 17:00:50 GMT -6
"The Southern end of Sacae does have it's challenges.. but it is also a land of great beauty. Our village is old and has seen many hardships.. but we have always rebuilt. Our tribe is very old.. and we have advanced ourselves into a proper village." She nodded. The healer finished what remained of her meal. She cleaned her hands. She made a simple motion to thank the gods for her meal in such a harsh time. Midori sympathized with Mana, being here alone. midori had a strong bond with the Chaklai but some times she was deployed on her own. And that made things difficult. Midori got up and offered her arm to Mana.
"Here. I can get you to my tribes bonfire. If you like.. you may share a tent with me. It isn't much.. but it is warm and safe." Classic Midori, a person was in need of shelter, she offered her tent.
"If.. you find it too cramped.. I can offer a bed roll and a place near the fire." The Chaklai were always welcoming of strangers. Of course they were also wary. But Mana had no one here with her. She was also cold and wet. It reminded her of a kitten stuck outside in the rain. Or perhaps an abandoned puppy. Midori wasn't quite sure. But, she wasn't about to turn her away. Midori casually led the woman out towards her tribe's area. She led her out towards the great fire. The Chaklai lit one in order to create a gathering place for all tribes. Midori found an empty log the people were using as benches. She guided Mana there so she could sit. The warmth of the fire was comforting.
"Would you like some tea?"
|
|
|
Post by Mana on Sept 11, 2016 1:32:36 GMT -6
Mana considered the offer. Sharing tent with Midori wouldn't make her uncomfortable but she then wondered if the pink-haired healer might not feel the same. Midori might be sincere with her kind offer but if the tent was too small then they wouldn't get the most pleasant sleep. And that would mean Mana causing inconvenience for the gentle woman. Surely, it wouldn't be a bad idea and who knows...they might end up chatting until dawn and became closer than mere acquaintances.
"Well, I prefer to comply with your decision for that. A tent sounds nice but I don't want to bother you or make your night uncomfortable. So...if you still don't mind sharing tent with me, I will gladly take the offer." Mana threw a wide smile. It wouldn't be her first time sharing a tent with another woman so she didn't really feel awkward about it. In fact, Mana had shared tent with Terra for the last few months and although that caused them losing many sleep, spending most of their night with silly girl talk, it was definitely fun. "However..." she added. "I don't mind sleeping near the fire if you want your tent all for yourself. No need to worry about me. I know sharing tent with someone you just met can be a little awkward." The Sacaen swordswoman put her hand on Midor's shoulder to ease the healer.
As they found their seat, the warmness of the fire entered into Mana's body. It felt nice when the freezing sensation was gradually disappeared and then replaced by gentle heat, as if it was caressing her numb body. "Sounds good," Mana replied shortly. Wow, Midori was really kind and caring. The healer's hospitality was a lot warmer than the fire, seriously. while waiting for her response, the swordmaster stared at Midori's pink hairs and became curious. The unique color hinted that Midori wasn't 100% Sacaen, probably born from mixed marriage. That wasn't a bad thing, of course, but some close-minded Sacaens usually didn't favor those who wasn't true Sacaen.
"Your pink hairs look beautiful, Midori." Mana unconsciously threw a compliment. The last pink-haired human she had seen was Richter and those pink strands definitely suited Midori better than a muscled and battle-hardened warrior like him. The Sacaen girl let out a small giggle, wondering if Richter would cut her down if he learned what she was thinking right now.
|
|
|
Post by Midori on Sept 15, 2016 11:57:00 GMT -6
"I am used to cramped conditions Mana. It is no problem for me if you wish to share my tent. But, I understand your concern about sleeping with strangers. I will fetch you a bed roll. You will need one regardless of your decision." She smiled softly. Once, Mana was comfortable by the fire. The pink haired priestess got up and went to fetch the woman some tea. Fortunately their was a basket nearby. Tea was an important part of the Chaklai's culture. It was a staple item in every home. The tents, travel camps, caravans, were not excluded from this rule. There were baskets with tea mugs, kettles, and tea powder near every fire.
Midori got to work preparing the tea. She put some of the powdered tea leaves into the bottom of the mug. Then she took one of the kettles and filled it with water. She put the kettle by the fire and let it sit. While the water heated up, Mana made a comment about her hair. Midori blushed lightly. The pink haired maiden found her hair to be one of her best features. Midori took pride into caring and maintaining it.
"Thank you Mana. It was what I inherited from my father." She recalled her father's journal, how he had been teased for having pink hair. The other knights would call him blossom head or strawberry haired. While she loved her hair she knew it gave her problems. People could instantly identify her as not fully Sacean.
"Uhm.. may I ask why those people were following you?"
|
|
|
Post by Mana on Sept 17, 2016 14:33:29 GMT -6
"Alright...if you have no problem with it, I would like to share tent with you. I won't take too much space anyway," Mana said, giggling. Seeing that Midori wasn't lying when she said she didn't mean sharing, Mana quickly decided to take the offer. Sleeping outside wouldn't be a problem for the swordswoman but a tent was much more preferable, after all. She just hoped the pink-haired maiden wouldn't feel bothered.
"So it's from your father..." Mana might not too bright but she wouldn't fail that Midori was talking about her deceased father. Father, huh? At least she was quite lucky to know her father. Mana envied the healer a bit. The black-haired swordgirl instantly ended the topic to avoid awkward moment. It was great that Midori went and asked a question. It had what needed to change the subject without reacting unnaturally.
"I don't really know, seriously. It began with a few spars between me and some fighters, which was fun and entertaining. Things started to become strange when the challenges never stopped coming. And worse...some weird guys, blacksmiths probably, surrounded me asking to borrow my sword." Mana sounded more like complaining rather than telling a story. The black-eyed girl held the hilt of Falcatta with her right hand and slowly pulled the famed weapon out of its sheath. She twirled it a bit in her hand before she returned her attention to Midori. "I was overwhelmed and couldn't possibly respond to all of their requests so I ran away. For some reason, many people were stubborn and chased me," Mana said, sighing tiredly. The girl wasn't familiar with a little bit popularity and she would probably never get used to it. "I guess that what will happen if you possess a weapon inherited from a legendary warrior, huh?" she added with a question.
"Anyway, it seems no one will bother me for a while so I will just relax and enjoy the tea. By the way, what bring you here, Midori? you know we are heading to a battle, don't you?"
|
|
|
Post by Midori on Sept 18, 2016 7:57:26 GMT -6
OOC- Me and Mana are taking over the thread with our posting apparently. Where did everyone else go? --
Midori bowed softly after she gave Mana the tea. Midori quietly listened to Mana speak about her issues. It seemed that she was in possession of a legendary blade. It was no wonder every swordsman in the camp was eager to test their mettle against her. Midori wasn't exactly fluent in the language of swords, but she knew how competitive the people could be when it came to them.
"I see. I understand the eagerness of the swordsman but I am sad that they do not remember how to be courteous. The Chaklai does not allow women to use the sword. Knives and daggers are alright as they resemble kitchen knives. But swords are mostly forbidden. Of course certain exceptions are made. For example the mercenaries we hire and house can wield swords.. or those whom are daughters of smithy." Midori knew her place among her tribe. She was a priestess. A healer. A bringer of cures and medicine to those who needed it. She had no reason to learn the ways of the sword.
"I digress.. let me go and get you the bed roll. Please pardon me for a moment." She went away for a moment to fetch the aforementioned bed roll. The roll was a simple one made of woven straw and goat fur. It was practical and comfortable. It might not always smell good but it would always keep the person warm. Midori returned with the roll and gently set it by Mana's seat.
"Here, this is my spare bed roll. I apologize if it has that smell of storage. It is not often I get to pull it out of the sack that houses it." Midori got up and took her seat next to Mana. She smiled softly. It seemed that Mana was unfamiliar with the Chaklai's culture. How they valued to help people more then fighting. A pious people who took to the tending the land rather then foraging out on the plains. She was quiet for a moment. She was trying to think of the best possible way to explain her station.
"Yes, Mana I am aware we are marching into battle. Our tribe is much more spiritual then most. The Chaklai values helping people rather then hurting people. In the early days of the tribe's founding.. we were reliant on the help of the outside world. Our tribe never forgot the kindness of those strangers. As a result we are tolerant of outsiders and even allow them to join us should they pass well a rite of passage. Some tribes.. do not like us for that.. but we have persevered. Despite our mixed heritages we are still Sacean. And we will defend our homeland. Albeit it a bit differently." She put her hand over her heart. A mix of pride, joy, and dedication seemed to well up inside of her.
"Our role in this army is not with the blade, but with the staff. We are the medics of the army."
|
|
|
Post by Mana on Sept 19, 2016 12:35:14 GMT -6
"They got too excited!" Mana said, pouting and puffing her cheeks. The swordswoman had to room to talk, actually. She had foolishly challenged strong warriors like Kenshin or Richter before only to be beaten badly by the pink-haired Ilian while Kenshin hadn't spared his time to duel with her until now. Those were reckless challenges without considering the gap in their skills which was caused by Mana being overexcited. "Don't worry, though. I beat some of them!" Not sure why she needed to say that. Maybe the girl just wanted to vent her frustration.
Mana gladly accepted the bedroll and smiled at Midori. "Thank you. I won't forget this..." she said. Despite what Midori had said, the bedroll didn't smell that bad. Or maybe Mana was just used to straw bedroll. "Don't worry. It will make me sleep comfortably like a baby." Her smile was genuine and not a fake smile for deceiving Midori. A Sacaen like Mana wouldn't mind the smell of straws and stable because she had gotten used to it after spending countless nights on it.
"Your tribe is pretty unique, Midori. Most tribes I know aren't specialized in magical healing art like your tribe. I am not saying it a bad thing. True, most Sacaens believes they are born as warriors but I think it's not for everyone. I am right, am I? Even in the strong tribes there are some of them that are well-versed in shamanism and magical related matter." Mana wondered if her words would be taken as a praise, comforting words, or an insult but she decided to simply blurt it out and let Midori be the judge.She wasn't throwing sugar-coating words to the healer. The swordmaster truly believed that Chaklai was a unique but good tribe and definitely part of the Sacaens. Just because they had mixed blood or had different culture didn't make them less Sacaen than the others in this army. If someone were to ridicule Midori right now, Mana will kick him and make that person suffer.
"I don't like saying it but...a lot of our people will need treatment after the battle..." Mana almost added that some of those people might not survive but the words were stuck in her throat.
|
|
|
Post by Midori on Sept 25, 2016 16:11:27 GMT -6
OOC- Mana we can move our conversation over towards a support. --
"The tribes of Sacae are as diverse as the grasses that grow upon our plains. It is something that makes us all unique and at the same time it makes us human. I wish the Etruian's could see us as such. As people with families, lives, and cultures as rather then just barbarians whom need to be subjugated." She stared off into the fire.
"As much as I do not want to admit it.. I think they have some small truth to it. Our culture can cause rifts between tribes. We lack true unity. Even now in this grand meet.. not every tribe is here. Not every tribe has pledged loyalty to the Grand Khan. They choose pride over the good of Sacae. I fear this will be something that the enemy will exploit." Her mind trailed to the old fable of an eagle and an archer. How the eagle had been meaning to swoop down and snag a hare to eat only to be shot down by an archer. An archer whom coated it's own arrows with the eagles feathers. The moral was one of caution. How easily one gives another the means of it's own destruction. She feared that those whom did not pledge true loyalty will seek loyalty elsewhere. Eturia was large and powerful. With torture or praise they could do things to people that Midori did not even want to think about. She shook her head.
"Sorry Mana. I did not mean to get all philosophical. It has been a bit of a long day. I haven't had any time to myself to think of my words and actions." She placed a few fingers on her forehead and pressed into the skin. Between her arrival in the camp, healing, chores, the Grand Khan's interest in her, meeting Mana... everything seemed to have caught up with her.
"It is a war Mana. Many people will not live to see the end of it." She looked down somberly.
"But, lets not dwell on the negatives. Come. I will show you around the Chaklai camp and then guide you towards my humble tent." She got up slowly. Once Mana was ready, Midori would guide the young swords-woman through the sea of lotus patterned tents.
ooc- Midori is out of the thread. Since we have officially started fighting in the other thread.
|
|
|
Post by Mana on Oct 4, 2016 14:26:38 GMT -6
Mana nodded in full agreement with Midori's opinion. Those stubborn Etrurians should stop to think that their culture and religion were the only correct way in this vast world. The swordswoman wondered how those people would feel if it was the Sacaens who went and invaded their land. Following Midori's gaze at the fire, Mana could only think that maybe a battle was the only possible way to solve this thing. The cultures between Etrurians and Sacaens were too different and some people seemed to fail to see that differences weren't bad.
Mana was shocked. She had never thought as far as Midori had. Would it possible that some Sacaens might, in worst case, side with the invaders? Etruria was a united country. They fought as a complete and disciplined army. Compared to them this new coalition of Sacaen tribes might look like an unorganized mob. Mana chuckled then spoke to the pink-haired healer, "Selibas is having it tough for sure, huh?" Mana noted that she had addressed Selibas without his title. While Midori addressed the man as Grand Khan like some others, Mana still couldn't bring herself to refer him as other than "Selibas" or "Sel". "Can't deny what you said. To be honest, I was surprised to see some of these tribes joining a same coalition. I mean...look at them. Some of them had fought each other a few weeks ago." Mana pointed her finger to the sea of tents as she looked at them. Sacaens had never been more united than alliances between tribes. Many tribes still fought each other for power and ambition.
Midori seemed a bit tired when she ended the talk about unity. In response to the invitation for a tour around Chaklai encampment and finally toward a warm tent, Mana enthusiastically stood up and walked, almost jumping, toward Midori. "That sounds great. I hope it doesn't bother you too much!!" she said, smiling.
OoC: I am gonna move us to support ^_^
|
|
|
Post by Mizuyuki on Oct 17, 2016 14:12:16 GMT -6
The man who had moved between them was clearly fearless. It took every ounce of restraint in Mizuyuki's fatigue ridden mind to prevent his own hand from gliding to the blade sheathed at his hip, or even from lifting to rest atop the butt of the hilt in its sheath. Even if he had sought a battle with this individual, in his current condition he was weaker than a juvenile in training. Just the thought alone had his stomach knotting in agony at the empty condition of his internal stockpile; hunger ravaging his core and sending pain through his sides. His pale visage remained completely devoid however, deadened eyes meeting this other male's gaze directly. The purple and black shades of skin beneath contrasting the pale to give his gaze a darker weight, while he quietly waited, and would have remained such had he not been asked for his name.
His silence did persist for a few hanging seconds. Scanning what little could be seen of the green clad man behind him, as Mizuyuki visibly determined how to respond. Before more than a handful of moments had passed, he spoke in his usual lower pitched tone, stained with a rasp from a mixture of factors acclimated from his dedicated travel. As he spoke, his gaze turned to the bodyguard before him and locked with an unflinching stare; a harsh fearless intensity brought about by those who had resolved themselves to death yet persisted in the waking world of the living.
"I am Mizuyuki Jinogua...of the Liusai t-..."
For a moment his eyes closed, as he caught himself. The overwhelming weariness of his situation washed over him in that brief instant. The weariness of one who had dug over a hundred holes, and buried over a hundred bodies. Each one, a body belonging to someone he could vividly recall the history of. Someone who, in that moment, he could clearly see the face of. Their smiling faces. Frowning faces. Impressed. Disappointing. Grief stricken. Proud. A myriad of expressions in life..and then..blank. Expressionless. Cold. Dead. His tone reflected this weariness by losing a fraction of it's edge when he continued speaking, the ghostly expressionless visages of his tribe assailing his mind with a barrage of failures internally.
"I am Mizuyuki Jinogua, the Liusai tribe. I come to speak to the man, Selibas Sacae, who my Khan swore his final vow to. My words are for him..alone.."
At the utterance of that final word, his gaze darkened and his eyes regained their distrusting tint. His poise could not reflect what his mind felt, but the very association with anything distrustful set ablaze a torrent of darkened emotions within. The sheer overwhelming hatred and fury that both burned with a cold undying rage, yet ran his veins and heart as cold as ice, purely came from recollection as to the last time he'd been exposed to a betrayal. No doubt this man was a trusted individual to protect the young Khan's life, but that was an uncertainty and unknown to Mizuyuki, who would chance nothing on a whim.
|
|
Selibas
Hero
The Little Wolf
My Word is Iron.
Posts: 455
Etruria Fame: -1
Bern Fame: 4
Illia Fame: -3
Profession: Khan
Guild: Tribe of Sacae
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Selibas
|
Post by Selibas on Oct 19, 2016 11:29:19 GMT -6
There was in the man across from Delger a fire. The scarred swordsman could see it in the other man's eyes. As the man embraced the tension, a smile split across the face of the lithe former khan. If nothing happened that was fine. If the man's hand gripped his blade, perfect.
The short Khan did not care for the exchange between his bloodrider and the spontaneous man before him. If someone had the bravado to challenge him to his face, he'd like to be the one to meet the challenge. However, the man only seemed interesting in talking. Talking was good, no one's dinner would be spoiled by a chat between strangers. However, interested as the man seemed to be, his voice betrayed a difficulty to the speech. Delger, fetch the man a water skin." Delger tilted his head enough for Selibas to see a flash of bitter regret in the man's eyes, but in a flas Delger was turned facing him, and bowing. With a, "Of course my Khan," the swordsman was off.
Then it was only Dale, this pale man, and Selibas. However it appeared that for the man, that was still too much company. "While I am grateful for the oath sworn, and sorry to hear of his death, Dale is my bloodrider. What you have to tell me may be said in his or a number of my blood rider's presence, or not at all." It was only a matter of moments before Delger returned with a waterskin, and extended it to the othe swordsman, a wry smile on his face. "The same applies to Delger. Now please I would know what you mean by being the Liusai."
|
|
|
Post by Chelsea Dagger on Oct 19, 2016 16:10:36 GMT -6
As Chelsea made her way through the sea of Sacaens, she kept her eyes peeled out for any signs of Altani and her clan. She knew that she would be able to tell them even at a distance, but even then it was taking a while. The redhead knew that her friend had said she had some business to attend to within her clan, but that didn't stop her from trying to find her. Even if she had to wait there, it was better than just sitting around in her own camp for hours, unsure when she'd be able to finally talk to Altani.
After walking for a bit more, she finally spotted a circle of people knew to be Temulun. As she made her way over to the circle, she spotted a familiar head of green hair in the center. Finally! But what was she doing in there? Chelsea watched as she swung her lances at another member of the tribe. But this was not the sparring that Altani had joked about earlier. This was a full blown battle. Her first instinct was to pull an arrow and drop the man attacking her friend. But she knew that the Temulun had different customs then her own clan. This was most likely the business that she had been referring to.
So, Chelsea stood just outside the circle and watched somewhat nervously. She didn't doubt in Altani's combat abilities. But even the best warriors could fall. The redhead just hoped that this wasn't one of those cases.
|
|
|
Post by Mizuyuki on Nov 9, 2016 10:04:29 GMT -6
Delger, fetch the man a water skin
His mistrusting gaze followed the man that exited swiftly on the orders of his khan. Mizuyuki's left hand slowly moving to his side, his right resting still atop the hilt of his blade. Thumb and index finger lightly tugging at the thin leather band wrapped around his blades hilt, lifting it until the brown feather of a red-tailed hawk greeted his sensation of touch with its soft slightly bristled sides becoming pinched between his fingers. Mizu let his digits softly brush the length of this feather in thought. Mind slowly turning while he processed the situation. He would have to speak openly before others. It was not how he wished to converse but could he, of all people, truly blame a Khan for wanting to be near a strange swordsman un-protected? No. He could not.
His hand rose from his blade to accept the waterskin offered minutes later. With a pale hand clasping beneath it to cup at the bottom base of it, Mizuyuki lifted the handle so it nearly pressed to his lips before lifting it skywards and slowly allowing the water to trickle into his parched throat. The mildly cool refreshing liquid eased his soreness induced through partial dehydration while he tried to maintain a forced restraint. His instincts pushed heavily for him to greedily drink until he could drink no more. As if this would be the last water he could receive or would receive. Mizu did not however, as he took what he judged as just enough before lowering the waterskin and ensuring that it was sealed once more before handing it back to the man whom moments ago he'd been inches from clashing with.
His right hand moved back for his blades hilt before brushing past it. Tugging at the quiver around his waist which was filled with a few arrows, but mostly shafts tethered together with a series of multi-colored and varied feathers dangling from them. Similar to his own but from different species of birds. Each one, belonging to a member of the Liusai. First, he would explain his proof to his words. Mizuyuki had never told a lie in his life, but such a claim as the one he was about to speak constituted evidence. His gaze, though still darkened, deadened some to a more neutral visage as he did his absolute best to conceal the biting hatred, and bitter loss that would otherwise vividly control his tone.
"Every man..and woman..of the Liusai when we are children, must chose for our own a feather. Fallen from the lords of the sky onto the plains we call home, we chose that which best represents our contribution to our tribe. To our home. We do this, so that others may know our dreams. Know our duty we give to ourselves, for our people. At the age of eight this is so."
The bunched shafts that his fingers could barely contain by wrapping around did not move, as they were still bound. However, from each of these hung one or two feathers tied to them. Some from birds of peaceful origins. His free hand turned to brush the small brown feather dangling to the furthest right, a smaller feather in comparison.
"Some aspire to be like the lark. Though smaller in stature, more diligent than all the others. Foragers. Tending and gathering fruits and vegetables. Perhaps the greatest lifeblood of our tribe. This one in particular, was from a young girl who had just brought hers home not a month ago. I remember seeing her tumble down the hillside..both hands clasped together to shield her prize from the coming rain."
His hand turned to brush against a larger feather. Black like the darkest of nights. Not from a hunter, but a storyteller.
"Some..like the Raven. Wise. Keepers of our tradition, and our tales. That our greatest and smallest may live on through future generations to aspire or be learned from. This one, belonged to my grandfather. A man who had kept many sleeping minds dancing with tales of our mightiest heroes and greatest Khans. Who guided us when we were lost, with stories of learning."
He moved his hand down to one away from the shafts. To his own. For some, chose that of the predator. Of hunting birds. His gaze now upon the Khan and his men, slowly drifting it from one man to another.
"Some...the hawk. Warriors of our tribe. We hunt for food, and for those that would do us harm. We are the first to draw steel in times of need or danger, and the last to sheath our blades when that danger has passed."
He began to slide the arrows, completed and incomplete, back into his quiver before resuming. This time, taking a second to exhale quietly before sharply inhaling through his nose and continuing.
"I collected these, as I buried my family. After I had dug the graves..and after I had said the words of our tribe. As I placed the fallen into the earth from whence we came, and returned them to the great mother, I removed their feathers. Man..woman..and child."
It became harder to speak, but he forced himself to. Hatred flowed through his veins like a thick venom. A black rage that boiled his blood and in its place gave liquid malice. His fingers gripped the hilt of his blade tighter, until knuckles bled white and he gazed to the sky above for a moment. Mizuyuki's fingers laxened seconds later and his palm came to rest atop the hilt of his blade with fingers dangling uselessly around.
"For I..am the last survivor of the Liusai."
He instantly continued, inhaling only when necessary and keeping his words fast. Like the extraction of a blade buried in the flesh, it was easier when dealt with swiftly.
"We had joined hands with a sister tribe. The Tangut. My Khan wished to convince them of your words. He wished to bring them to a joined Sacae, as we were to. So we shared our food. We shared our drink. We shared our homes. And on that night, while many of my tribe slept, the Tangut killed them. I saw, as my Khan who sought trust and extended a hand of brotherhood, was cut down. I fought, until my body fell...against numbers I remember not..to defend his family. And when I awoke..."
There was no way to contain the bitter hate that now began to bleed into his tone. His eyes watered..but before he could truly collapse, he sharply inhaled and closed his eyes. Oh how he saw..and heard. The crackling of flames upon his home. The screams. How clearly he smelled the thick metallic scent of blood. The rot of death. The sight when he awoke. Corpses..strewn about. He remembered..
Mizuyuki lifted his hands to slowly slide the right side of his Yukata off his shoulder. The left was already off, and idle. However the right covered much of his torso. So when it fell, sliding down to his side and lightly draped atop the blade tethered to his hip, he exposed his failure. Along his skin where there was not tattoo, there were wounds. Lacerations. Marks of battle. Still mending injures from blades. His right arm adorned in smaller ones, but some upon his lower torso aligned to his rib-cage were more prominent. Wounds that still burned an angry red. Dried blood along his abdominal muscles. His pectorals bore lesser lacerations.
"My body appeared broken. They assumed me dead. When I awoke, struggling and clinging to life..I found no survivors. Every person..that I have known or would ever know..dead. Their bodies left where they'd fallen. I come here now to warn you, Selibas Sacae, of that treachery. That the Tangut will accept no friendship in a united Sacae. They turn a blade to even their kindred in the name of isolation. "
He fell quiet, and slipped his Yukata back on to cover his broken body. He had exposed it, to further prove why he had been left to die. Why he had been presumed gone. What he could not show, were the wounds upon his soul. His mind. If only he could show, for they were truly the worst...and their bleeding would never cease. Scars never mend. This, he knew.
|
|
Selibas
Hero
The Little Wolf
My Word is Iron.
Posts: 455
Etruria Fame: -1
Bern Fame: 4
Illia Fame: -3
Profession: Khan
Guild: Tribe of Sacae
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Selibas
|
Post by Selibas on Nov 10, 2016 19:36:21 GMT -6
The pale man drank the water from the skin at a measured pace, but his lips were cracked and his eyes hollow, he needed to drink as much as he could. The Sacaen plains were long, traveling them was no mean feat. The man needed good food, rest, time.
When the man had wet his throat, he began to speak. It was a tragic tale that he wove. The fall of a tribe, one filled with traditions and innocent lives. And they were all taken from the world in what amounted to an instant. By another tribe. It was not Etruria that had blotted out the Liusai, it was another tribe. The Sacaens were eating themselves, the children of Hanon were killing themselves while a dragon burnt their plains. It brought a chill to his cheeks.
The man showed Selibas the history of his tribe, that was now at its end, inside his quiver. There it was, the perfect symbol of the plains people's history. A thousand tragedies wrapped up in weapons of vengeance. There was a harsh feeling in the pit of his stomach as Selibas looked at each arrow. There were no words that the short khan could find to comfort the grim stranger. But he would need to find them.
"I am... so sorry. Truly I am. What has happened to you, is deplorable. The world is in shambles, and it is wrong that Elibe has been struck with such evil, and that it brought such destruction to your door. This is an atrocity I will not stand for. If the Tangut still stand on these plains once the prophet's life has been wrung out of his neck I will ride beside you. When I spoke before to bring the tribes together, I called for a quiver of arrows, and as each arrow was a tribe I showed that we on the plain are stronger as one. The Liusai will not be forgotten, you are still one of my people Mizuyuki. Please stay in this camp tonight, share our food and water."
|
|