Everything So Far

Moran Shadowdancer


L'ámnia Silverlight


She was used to public scrutiny and she knew very well when someone was staring at her, sizing her up. Normally she reacted by straightening her back and making sure that there was nothing wrong with her person. Her heart began to beat a bit faster and instead of sitting straighter, she forced herself to relax, to allow herself to slouch just so. The man in the dingy armor sat down close to her and ordered a meat pie and ale. She stole a sidelong glance in his direction and noticed his scars right off. She wasn't sure if the scars meant he was good at his profession or bad. Of course, what she knew about fighting wouldn't fill a thimble. She wasn't sure of the ettiquette here. Did she nod, say something? She wanted to say something, felt like she ought but she hadn't seen anyone else speak to strangers. The ale was brought to him followed soon after by the meat pie. It didn't smell too good and she decided she didn't really want to know what kind of meat was in those pies.
 
Urral Leketh


Harsh words drew her attention quickly. In House culture, at least hers, that would have been enough of an insult to spark a duel. Perhaps this is why the man did not ask for her weaponry. The massive polearm stood beside her as she examined the little man. Just looking at him made her weary of his lifestyle. She had neither the patience nor the energy to deal with the intricacies of arcanotech. But she did know when she had a chance to make coin.


Stepping in, she humbly volunteered herself.


"On BEHALF of HOUSE LEZEK, Glorious SCIONS of the light, SONS and Daughters of the PERFECTION of war and Peerless soldiers, I, the Halberd Daughter of the First Spear maiden and the Fourth Sword Master, deem this situation proper for intervention."


Her bellowing should catch the attention of both. Her bearing was incredible as she easily took the harsh stares.


"Little man of Arcanotech, Do you require a duel for the righteous honor to carry weaponry inside facilities of your choosing? I will fight this man in a legally sanctioned battle to the death, in accordance with the laws of House, for coin and assistance!" The sun outside outlined her from behind. "What say you!"


She points the Halberd at the waiter, waiting for the word.
 
Mechan Ferrus


The tall woman's voice was like the retort of a cannon. Unnecessarily so. Mechan glanced at her gloriously beautiful face and flowing golden tresses and was...unimpressed. But that armour, that armour! Such workmanship, the delicate scrollwork, the intaglio, the elegance of the reinforcing around the rivets, perfection! And the halberd she bore with such a light hand, glorious! It's haft was a masterpiece alone, engraved with fine curlicues. The rare-metal of the blade folded and hammered by an expert hand wielding a finely balanced hammer! Mechan found himself staring at the Scion's panoply with a craftsman's appreciation of excellence. He almost felt like throwing himself down and begging her to tell him, bestow upon him the honour of knowing the name of her armour's creator. But the moment passed and he returned to his senses as he realised that the Infernal was waving that fine weapon at the impertinent waiter.


"Mm-mm. No. Thank you for your offer of mercenary service, but no. I would not have you risk staining your fine armour, nor mar so perfect a blade on so base a mongrel as this. If my presence is such an affront to his sensibilities, I shall avail myself of the services of some other establishment. It is no matter. Again thank you for your offer, but thank you more for exposing me to the glorious vision of your panoply."


He snatched up the cylinders from his firearms and began rebuilding the weapons.
 
Finally, someone who understood.


She withdraws the halberd, bringing it to her side. The gaze he gave her arms and armor caused her heart to swell. She lived for that feeling. Laughing a little she nods to him. "Someone who understands, very good. I had all but lost hope of locating one in this hive of mediocrity. Perhaps I will join you in your absconse from this place lest I lose track of someone worth speaking to."


She moves up to him. "I am Urral Leketh, who and what are you?"
 
Mechan Ferrus


The laugh of the warrior woman was like unto the sun bursting through storm clouds, it occurred with such suddenness. Leketh, of the Lezekim... The House name struck a chord in Mechan's usually scattered mind. The Lezekim are known to appreciate titles and accomplishments, as much as they hate lies and untruth. He had to tread carefully here.


"An honour, madam. I am Mechan Ferrus of the City-Engine, a Member of the Order of the Brass Cog, Artisan of the Amber Vial and Member of the Library of the Seven Mechanical Virtues, artificer, Arcanotechnician, designer, alchemist, lensmaker and lately engineer of the skyship, The Burning Moth. If I might be so bold as to ask, what brings one such as you to Kaiden's Spire?"


He glanced around, trying to see if Tyris or even Hemtal were anywhere about. In truth, through all her polite conversation, Mechan felt greatly intimidated by the powerfully-built woman. Her physical presence and her obvious skill at arms made her one of those people of whom staying on their good side was a priority. But considering her House's reputation for demanding satisfaction for even the slightest perceived insults, Mechan knew he was on dangerous ground. His social graces could be likened to the amount of rust that existed on his weapons. In this case, a negligible amount.


This might end badly...
 
Urral leketh


The lengthy title presented made her smile. It was a good and proper list of accomplishments of this mans life. He had done things that could be listed and used to show the truth of his being. It was only proper to respond in turn.


"I, Urral Leketh, First Halberd Daughter of the Right Hand Macelord Handmaiden Seral Tarann and Fourth Sword Master of the Unbridled Hilt of Impervious Flame Malenth Leketh, Purveyor of the Simple truth of the Light Infernal, Arch Countess of the ninth Labyrinth of Gabriallus, and authorized Agent of Lezekim, have arrived in Kaiden's spear for the express purpose of delivering information to several in need of the Lezekim to defend against slights to their honor and to purvey my goods and services as I see fit to the image of the Grand House of Lezekim."


All that without taking a breath.


"And now I see that a being of understanding of place and respect has true need of my services. While TROLLS and mortals do the minor bidding of my needs, I shall be delivered unto true purpose aboard this 'Burning Moth'. Who dare deny the generous offer of a Lezekim to provide security and spread the glories of the individual and house aboard a ship of air. I generously accept your offer and as business is concluded, you may escort me to your ship."


With that she places a gauntlet covered hand on his shoulder. "Great times are upon you Artisan Ferrus of the City Engine. Glories shall live on through this meeting."
 
Mechan Ferrus


Mechan's face froze at the long and convoluted title this 'Urral' spouted at him. Purveyor of the Simple Truth, something something something... And now she would offer her services to the captain of the Burning Moth. As Mechan remembered the captain was a sleazy perverted little man and the only 'glories of the individual' he would be interested in spreading were most likely not the same ones Urral was talking of. Or was that the previous captain? Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if that one was still the captain? Was the pirate the one before him, or did he come later? Mechan wondered for a moment whether he should pay more attention to who his employer was and whether his employer was currently engaged in criminal activities or... Would a purer sample of nitre provide a better burn? Mechan stood, engaged in deep thought on this new consideration and the world around him faded into the background. He stood for some minutes before a niggling feeling broke his concentration and he realised the Scion was still stood beside him, awaiting his pleasure.


"Oh! Oh, you want to be introduced to the captain? I can certainly arrange that, madam. And yes, I think you might well be well received.", he said, nodding his head and leading the way back to the Burning Moth's mooring.
 
Nikros


It took the young magi several long moments to respond, disoriented and aching from the impact. Not to mention the shocking revelation that he had survived that impact. Good god, just how fragile was that seed? ...Maybe he should take it with him, might be worth something.


...aaaand then his current situation finally processed, eyes going wide for a moment as he pulled himself into a sitting position with a jerk. ".I. Er. You..." He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he tried to think of something coherent to say. Scratch that, something coherent to say that would keep that weapon away from him. "...I don't think I could if I wanted to."
 
Urral Leketh


"Excellent! You are a gem among the rough of the Spire. Lead on to your grand ship" She moves fluidly after him, somehow capable of following him yet in a way that seemed like she had control of the destination.


Her mood had significantly improved since meeting Mechan. Her vanity had been assuaged and ego thoroughly stroked to the point of her irritation at being unable to locate her possible clients had vanished. Urral walked out of the Lounge without paying. It would have been a slight to have paid for such bland food. To have left any money would have been an insult to her and the establishment.


The man who spoke to her earlier began groaning on the floor as she stepped on his back and walked out, a nice little cracking sound of a rib breaking as she put her weight onto him.
 
Olimak Lenore


The weapon plunged into the dirt dangerously close to Nikros, its scalding edge audible sizzling the still damp soil. Lenore hunkered down with a clank, one hand still loosely clasped to the hilt as she looked the man up and down. Her face was mostly impassive, though her molten eyes gave the impression of a malevolent bent.


"Are you a member of the crew little one?" she asked calmly.
 
Moran Shadowdancer


L'ámnia Silverlight


He was eating and it appeared as if his full attention was on his food but she gave a little cough and waited. When that ellicted no response from the battered soldier she turned to face him. Her large, blue-green eyes were wide as she spoke. "Um, excuse me?" She gave a fake cough again and spoke in a deeper voice that she thought was manly in some fashion. "Uh, hey there, friend. Nice, uh, weather we're having this time of year." She altered her features to look stern. "I'm, um, Moran. Moran Shadowdancer, pleasure to meet you sir, guy, uh, friend." Friend? Buddy? Pal? Why didn't Perros tell her what to say? She'd have to have a stern talking to her cousin when she got out of this mess.
 
Roland Macrus


Roland finished his bite and turned his attention to 'Moran' for he doubted this lad was quite who he said he was. Trying too hard to look like someone who would fit naturally, into this establishment? Nobility on the run? Roland left the question up in the air and acted as if the slips had never been made. "'Lo, Moran. Roland Macrus. Can't say about the weather, I'm not from around here. Trying to get into the Spire..." He briefly frowned. "Damn guards wouldn't let me though. What about you, looking to get in?"
 
Moran Shadowdancer


L'ámnia Silverlight


Lámnia narrowed her eyes and cooly reached for her cider, took a long sip and let her brain go to work. What need would an out of work soldier need to get up into the spire for? It didn't really matter, not really. If she could get to the spire, she could get onto a ship then she could get out of there and escape her uncle's reach. "Yes, actually, I suppose you could say something like that. It isn't easy though, to slip through the guards who allow only Magi up there. I suppose there are ways. And I suppose it also depends on how badly you want to get up there." She suddenly lost all her appetite.
 
Nikros


Normally, Nikros might have objected to being called 'little', simply on reflex. Who wouldn't? He probably wasn't that much shorter than her anyway! But then again, normal gut reactions to such things mean little next to the massive armor, weapon, and those eyes. Lying to that expression seemed like an exceedingly poor idea for anyone attached to their continued existence, among whose number the young magi most certainly still counted.


"Not... Not as such, no. Just a passenger, I didn't even know where they were headed." His voice was... surprisingly level, considering the way his eyes never stayed in one place for long. He looked like a cornered animal, but the fear in his tone was fading with every passing second as he recollected his thoughts and began mentally hunting for some way out of this mess he'd gotten himself into. Olimak was wearing some very heavy armor, she couldn't possibly outrun him like that, but on the other hand he was already in reach of that weapon of hers. One good distraction and he could maybe make a break for it, but for now... Safest to play along.
 
Ywen the Eternal


What at first glance and at a distance could be mistaken for a human woman, looked up, bright red eyes meeting the troll's own in an even, calm gaze. However, the woman's 'hair' couldn't truly be called such, instead, from her head grew an even curtain of thin, yew branchlets, covered in the evergreen tree's needles.Similarly, her skin was colored and textured like bark, rather than flesh.She was dressed rather simply, if well. A simple, elegant, and well-fashioned pair of tan trews with a shirt and coat of the same evergreen hue as her 'hair', with an elegant embroidery the same red as her eyes managed to give the impression of an especially modest airship captain, or perhaps business investor.


This far from Trollhaven, he's all but guaranteed to be a mage. The other sort just don't leave their city that often, unless they've been falsifying or covering up what news gets out of Trollhaven, and I doubt there would be sufficient benefit from that to merit the sheer expensive of the thing.


Looking up at the large Troll with a welcoming smile of her own, she nodded. "Certainly, I would be happy to assist you. Please, do tell me about your friends. I'd hate to waste your time by directing you to the incorrect individuals. And perhaps, once we've found them, the group of you can tell me how you came to be traveling together, for I sense a story there and one I'd quite welcome hearing."

I'm going to assume the slight female figure that Merric is mistaking for human is Ywen. Color chosen for her: #004700
 
Olimak Lenore


"If you're not of the crew there's no reason to kill you," she told him, standing up and looking to the skies. Lenore's expression clouded, her gauntleted fingers tightening on the hilt of her sword.


Where was the Firefly now? Normally they'd have come down to pick her up by this point.
 
For Lenore


Glancing up, briefly, you can see the distinctive bird-winged shape of the ship... moving away at some speed.
 
Olimak Lenore


As she watched her ship fly further off into the distance, Lenore felt that familiar ember flicker to life once more in her chest. It burned, like a red hot coal within her, and growing hotter by the second. With an act of will, she suppressed it, not calming it, merely containing it.


The sword was ripped out of the ground, twirled as it graced her palm and slid back within the sheath on her back. Her face, now stony with anger, turned towards the Spire. The armored woman began the long walk back.
 
Nikros


"...Good to hear it." Well, that was certainly good news? Of course, it still left him in the middle of a wreck, with nowhere to go and no idea where he was. "...If I'm not in danger of any more violence then... Er, where are we?" And for that matter what the heck kind of ship had he stowed away on, that some heavily armored warrior destroyed it to kill the crew? He supposed it didn't much matter really, the attack was over and apparently he was free to go.


...and then the giant armored woman started to walk off without another word, leaving him in the middle of a wreck with no idea where he was. Great. To follow, or wait for the off-chance that someone else came by...
 
Mechan Ferrus


The walk back to the Burning Moth went a lot quicker than the walk from, in Mechan's opinion. Granted, the presence on his shoulder of a statuesque goddess of war clad in exquisite armour and wielding a halberd heavy with destructive magicks might have had something to do with that. As he walked in his strange fast-stepping gait, his conversation alternated between musings upon whether Stormcircle crystal lenses were superior to Shaydensea deep-sea glass ones, the best proportions of brimstone in gunpowder, the benefits of a five-round ammunition cylinder over a six-round cylinder and discussing the construction methodology used in the Burning Moth."Well, I think you might like the ship. She's sturdy enough and she can show a clean pair of heels to most of the pirate vessels in the region, as long as they are spotted early enough. Even the crew compartments boast some of the best amenities, piped heating, reconfigurable furnishings, even their own cooking stoves. A fine vessel."


He was suddenly distracted by a long ribbon of black smoke in the distance. Unlimbering the 'Longreach Mark XVI', he adjusted the lenses for maximum magnification. In the distance, he could make out the broken and burning wreck of a skyship and, several hundred feet above it and moving away at speed was a second vessel. Pirates? This close to a Stormlord's Spire? Their captain must be a very bold individual indeed to risk the righteous retribution that comes from privateering within the regions that a Stormlord levies a tax for the protection of skyship traders. Well, either they would escape the Stormlord's ire or they would suffer his wrath. It mattered little to Mechan. He lead Urral out to where the Burning Moth hung on its moorings and, with little ceremony, crossed the rickety gangplank to the deck.
 
Urral Leketh


"Truly wondrous... your kind continue to prosper without the gifts of the Infernal. The Lezekim have always had a soft spot for those capable of production. I still however fail to understand these 'guns'. They say they put shards of metal in the bodies of others. I do much the same but without the cowardice of being the lesser."


Urral let him continue, Mechan was certainly a character. He would have been at home in the forge of the floating city of her birth. A shame he was not born Infernal.


The ship itself did nothing to catch her eye but at the least it avoided her wrath. It was simply a ship. No trimming, no tales of conquest, not even any gold. It was still however, a ship.


"You speak of rooms, I shall require one. Near the main deck where a good defense may be mounted. And has privacy. I care not for those that sneak in the shadows." The Lezekim examined the gangplank. There was no doubt in her mind it would not support her weight. Taking a good couple of steps back, she flew into a headlong sprint. Her body a terrifying blend of armor, flesh, and flashing locks of gold spun hair.


An echoing grunt and the armor plated warrior launched herself. She flew, the world seeming to pass in slow motion as she looked over at the man crossing on the plank of gangs. A grin on her face as she flew by....


And caught her legs on the edge of the ship.


Tumbling forward by her own momentum, she rolled a good twenty feet, armor clanging and raising a hell of a lot of noise. To her benefit she rolled like a champion, balling and coming to a halt on her feet.


Strangely enough, she didn't mention this conquering glory. No doubt her only answer being she had meant to do that in order to show her agility.


She waited silently for her companion. Face impassive as ever as she bestowed untold rage upon herself.
 
Roland Macrus


Roland smiled, but it wasn't a nice one. Yep, this was some noble on the run. "Lad," he chuckled in a lower voice, "of course there are plenty of ways. If you're looking to get in, you can come with me... on one condition."
 
Olimak Lenore


The armored woman simply continued walking, not a second though for the man nor the wreckage she had left behind.
 
Nikros


The rather unfortunate thief took some time to make up his mind, but before long he had pulled himself to his feet and started after Olimak... At a distance of course. Staying here would just be a quick way to get lost, but on the other hand the last thing he wanted was to make that woman angry. So he walked a good distance behind her, staring up at the spire he seemed to be heading toward with some trepidation. Hey, couldn't be more dangerous than the Tower he'd left...
 
Lenore & Nikros


After some walking you come to the base of the tower, and the primitive wood-and-stone village that surrounds it.


Lenore


Village. Full of peasants and base materials. Inconsequential. There is however a warrior ducking into the nearby Waylund's Inn who may, moving forward, be of use. New ship means new crew.


Nikros


Well. This is different. People here live in houses of wood and stone, with windows! There are children just playing in the streets! It smells of fruit and meat and baking bread, but so much better than back home. Some people aren't even working! Won't they get whipped for that?
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 3 (members: 0, guests: 3)
Back
Top