Invitation Only [Faval]

[Ainyi]

51 summer 512 AV

That morning, when she woke up, Ainyi had seen the ocean. Before coming to Zeltiva, she had never seen the ocean. It looked like any other body of water, it was just...bigger. It smelled saltier. The air felt different around it. But it was, in a way...calm. She decided that she liked the ocean, even if she didn't like being calm.

Calm. The word sounded funny even in her head as she walked aimlessly through the streets of the town. It didn't bother her to do that as it had in Alvadas, because she knew that if she walked around the corner to turn around, the same shops would be in the same place they had always been, and if she was ever lost, she could ask directions, and they would actually work. With her horse in the stable, her hawk Braghna on the loop of her pack, and her talon sword and bow readily accessible if needed, she just took to exploring the town she seemed to be living in indefinitely. The Rich man wouldn't mind. Alric was most likely off attending to the reason he came here. In the mean time, she took to trying to settle. Or blend in. Or whatever she was supposed to call it.

It felt good to blend in...well, sort of. This whole time, Ainyi had worn her traditional garb from her home, uncaring of the looks that the Vinati and Bhryda drew. At least she was clean this time. When they rolled in from the land route on the continent, she had never been caked in so many dirts and grimes at once. She almost didn't recognize herself after she had bathed, and untangled her mahogany locks. For once, her glass beads in her hair didn't chink together because it was all pleated in a single braid down her back, unlike the unruly norm. She wondered if perhaps this was her attempt to assimilate, or to change her ways to her environment. She hadn't felt like she was; she still had her accent, her Inartan way of life, yet something was changing.

Well, to be fair, -everything- was changing. She may not be in Alvadas, but it certainly felt like change hadn't stopped. She wondered, honestly would. Would she ever find a home again? Would she ever settle down, and live in that strange word "calm"? It was all too much to think about and know where she was going.

And that's when she saw it.

Deep bronzed orange and a teal blue, in a single silken fabric, dressing a beautiful woman. She was accompanied by a man in similarly formal attire, both laughing over something before walking into an open passage.

Rich people. Come to think, she hadn't seen other people of wealth than Alric yet on her travels. She finally stopped and looked around to see where she was and guessed it was West Street. She had asked the person manning the desk at the inn she stayed at about general locations, and the wealth that suddenly rose up around her was quickly matching the description.

She was doing more thinking than she was used to. She was growing uneasy with all of the calm, the thinking, the not doing. If she was supposed to help Alric, maybe she just needed to learn more about his people. How else was she supposed to do that other than to observe?

She looked at the entrance. A man watched nearby, blond haired, with a bow. It looked stronger than her own, and he certainly had more arrows than she. Perhaps...how to go about this...

Ainyi stopped and shook her head. She would get in. Somehow, someway. She didn't need to think about how. She just needed to do.

With that, she briskly began walking toward the entrance, and just tried to act like she belonged. Even if it was painfully obvious that she didn't, it was a fair attempt. In plus, you only looked threatening with weapons if you looked like you were going in to use them.

Well, she hoped at least.

[Faval]

It wasn’t the most exciting work in the world and it certainly didn’t offer any sense of fulfillment or purpose, but Faval supposed that wasn’t the point as he stood guard, lazily stalwart, outside one of the myriad of wealthy landowner’s parties and get togethers. What the job did do is offer a healthy amount of food which, as was seemingly the crux of all motivation that Faval ever had in the entirety of his post-employed life. It did tend to make him rather unhappy however as he stood there, bored, upset, irritated and rather spiteful at the world as he exasperatingly verified the small pass that let him know that the pair of snobs who had just arrived at his door were in fact, supposed to be there. An equally exasperated sigh left him as the two passed him by without another glance. They had eyed the weapon slung over his shoulder with a certain sense of apprehension for a few moments though that did make Faval feel a little better about the situation, only a little. These people were almost all born in to wealth, they didn’t know what squalor was outside of some hideous word used to passive aggressively patronize people who don’t know the proper finger positioning for a fork. That was an eye opening experience, Faval didn’t even know what a fork was until his employers looked at him funny and their child called him a moron for palming the silverware and poking at the food on the table. Pretentious little piece of…

Before Faval could finish verbally abusing a small child in the depths of his own subconscious, which is probably best for all parties involved, another woman had entered his line of sight but unlike the previous seven or eight dimwitted arm trophies that had passed by him before, this one was different. She was alone, for starters, and given that every other woman he had seen in the past few hours was busy doting on some ogre spawn landowner like he was the King of Zeltiva, it was kind of refreshing to not see a woman attached around a humanoid pig’s arm. The first red flag addressed, a woman by herself probably wouldn’t be approaching the thing he was guarding, Faval’s brain moved on to the second red flag. She was armed. Given that armed people were specifically what Faval was ordered to protect the door against, which was cause for considerable concern. He had met all the other guards that were staffed with him and he certainly would have remembered one that looked like her. So in the end, it was easy to conclude that she didn’t belong there. He didn’t move right away, but his eyes were fixed on hers as soon as he noticed her glaring at the door. There were many ways he could approach this. He could go the less difficult approach, which was slide his bow off his shoulder, remove an arrow from his quiver, level it at her face and ask her nicely to leave before he put that sharp point in between her eyes. Of course, he didn’t want a fight breaking out either unless it was necessary, he no longer gets paid if one of the guests happens to die from a misplaced arrow or if the brawl chases away any more potential guests. No, he would try to be more diplomatic about it; it might even be more fun too. He wasn’t generally a fan of deception, generally considering himself a rather honest man, but sometimes when you’re trying to gather information deception is a necessary evil. Who knows, he might just have a little fun messing around with the pretty lady that stumbled upon his door. If not, well, then he always had the good old violence as a standby. As the woman came in to speaking range, Faval spoke with a bored tone, which was rather easy to fake given that he was, in fact, rather bored for the majority of the night.

“You one of the guards? Why are you so late? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”