Words For The Wise [Kassan, Malavos, Xavior]

by **Liar** on July 9th, 2012, 5:39 pm

Summer 44, 512

The man was tall, to say the least, and he had the sort of nose that was easy to look down. As he turned to scrutinize the next group that approached, the sun glinted brightly on the gold circle that was embroidered on his chest. It reflected with taunting similarity to the pile of coin that lay a few dozen feet behind him: the grand prize for the first team to guess all four riddles and complete all four trials. Laat himself stood beside it, smiling at the gathered populace and chatting with those who bothered to wait in the long queue beside him.

His yellow eyes glanced at the trio curiously, if only for a moment. The monk before them was less impressed.

Instead of the primed and eager minds that hoped to partake in a challenge, he saw a pair of peculiarly-faced men who he could not know were not human, and a third who had been taken in among the ranks of the monks. A monk of Laat was certainly no stranger to foreign recruits, but such an incongruity was as good a reason as any to scowl at them. He removed a slip of paper from the top of a stack and read it in a bored monotone:

Then he handed the paper to whoever would read it, and waved to the next group.

OOC :

by **Kit** on July 14th, 2012, 3:18 pm

Kit listened eagerly as the riddle was read aloud. This sounded way more fun than whatever task teh scary lady had assigned him (which he had already forgotten about). Desperate to prove his cleverness, he piped up as soon as it was finished, latching onto the final words: "forest's enemies."

"OH, I remember, there was this big ugly stomper, and he was attacking trees and the trees fell down and he trapped me and hurt me and I was scared and I didn't like him after that." The mid-twenties-looking man frowned; that memory wasn't as fun as he'd thought. He tried to remember why he'd thought of it in the first place. Oh right, the riddle! "So maybe the forest's enemies are people who make trees fall down?" He hoped that helped, so that he wasn't remembering such a terrible thing for nothing.

Puzzling over it further, something else tickled at his memory. He had no idea what iron actually was, but he'd been wandering around the city for a while now, and he knew he's seen or heard that word somewhere before. "There's a....there's a place, a pathy walky place--I mean the scary lady told me to go to a place that was next to an iron place, and I got lost and I don't remember where it is, but she said 'iron' too, when she was trying to tell me where the place was."

by **Kassan** on July 16th, 2012, 4:58 pm

Kassan folded his arms, reading the riddle aloud to his ragtag team.

Kit, the slightly hyper Kelvic, began making guesses at the riddle. His logic made some sense, if a little disjointed. "Yes," he said slowly, "tree fellers perhaps..."

He thought a little more on the words. Nature's grisly game?

"Let us think on it line by line, perhaps. Things are always easier broken down. Nature's grisly game," he repeated again, "death? Blood? Those are the words that come to mind. Does anyone else have any thoughts?"

He pondered a while longer. This hunt looked set to be more puzzling than he had first thought. But there was reward and glory. And what valour he would hold, winning Laat's trials in the name of Uphis. To set a cat among the pigeons.

by **Malavos** on July 23rd, 2012, 6:18 pm

For the kelvic, the pile of gold on the floor looked a lot like what someone might find if Malavos was alone in some place after he had eaten a little bit too much. It meant nothing to him but a lot to other humans and while he did not need it, he knew that it would make the humans think he was like them. If he had a lot of it they would think that he is better than them. So this little contest, if anything would only help him make himself fit in a little and perhaps get a chance to put him high above the rest.

However the kelvic knew nothing about riddles, puzzles and things like that. His skills were used for fights specifically in arenas where he only needed to be pointed at the target that needed hurting. Malavos had no choice but to but to find other people which can do the thinking for him. One of them he knew from the arena during the Spring tournament. Quite alright, for a human... The other he never met before in his life and he could think of nothing good for such a useless thing. He even smelled strange. Malavos would need to keep his distance from that one.

"No clue" the kelvic growled. The only thing he could think of especially after hearing the last two lines are how disgusting humans were. There was no other race that made an enemy of everything, forest included and uses iron as their tools of domination.

At least his teammates got to thinking better than the biased kelvic because his contribution as it was to point out that the people who make trees fall down were all "humans" just like the stinky one's scary lady. Death and blood also reminded Malavos about his past when he was in the hands of the Ravok humans. The Pit and the closest place they had in Nyka he knew was "the Warfields?" It cannot be right since that place was very orderly and honourable.

"Just take us to that iron place" he ordered Kit who he was staring at with crossed arms.

by **Kit** on July 30th, 2012, 1:02 am

"Erk..." Kit was afraid of this. They had asked him to lead the way. He knew where they had to go, at least, he knew what the place smelled like, but he hadn't been there often enough to remember how to get there. However, he was never one to give up!

"Right, um, this way!" And off he went. He knew he had to cross a bridge, so all he had to do was find one of those, right? What else did he know about the place he was trying to find? "There are a lot of sharp long pointy things and..." what had the growly one said? Warfields? "And I think it's near that place you said." The more Kit thought about it, the more he realized that he was taking them all to a rather scary place. Before he could reconsider and decide that maybe he didn't need to go find the pointy objects that smelled of blood and death, he stumbled into view of one of the bridges that crossed the big hole in the ground.

He gulped, and looked uncertainly at his companions. Maybe this bridge wouldn't lead to the scary death and blood place after all? But even as he thought it, he could smell a distinct scent coming from the other side. This bridge unmistakably led to the Northern Quarter of the city. And on the other side, somewhere, there was some street that had the name of "Iron".

by **Kassan** on August 2nd, 2012, 3:32 pm

Kassan folded his arms, and remained quiet as the Kelvic frenziedly spoke of the possibilities. Ideas whirred in his own mind, but none were certain for the moment.

They crossed the bridge, returning to Kassan's own quarter of the city. The Northern Quarter. Home of Uphis, and the Sharp Blades. The Warfields. It fit some of the clues, but not other fragments.

Iron Avenue. And perhaps... perhaps even more specific. Kit had taken the lead thus far, but Kassan walked in front of them, turning astutely.

"There is a shop on Iron Avenue, for hunters and the like. I think... I think that is our goal. If you wish to follow, I will take the lead."

He paused, a small smile playing on his lips.

"This is my quarter after all."

by **Xavior Silhouette** on August 3rd, 2012, 6:28 am

Xavior was curious about this festive celebration in the name of the divine Laat. He had heard about the festival through gossip and hushed whispers within the apartment he had shut himself in to. It had been many moons since he had first arrived to Nyka and met with hostility and cautiousness. His heavenly form was rarely seen by others as he tended to move in the night with great stealth, well as great as he could muster. But now as he stood in the day light, a long white cloak covered his bat like wings as well as most of his body. The long sleeves draped over his hands which had been wrapped in simple cotton. The sharp claws extended from the finger tips of the makeshift gloves, but they appeared to simply be decoration. A bandana had been tied around his head and made into a primitive face mask. The hood drawn over his ears and head helped disguise his Zith identity as he walked around the Nykan streets cautiously.

The paper he had received earlier that began his exploration of the festival was tricky to figure out. The words twisted and implied something else that at first made Xavior think one way then another. He had trouble as he attempted to navigate the bridges, being grounded was such a hassle. He wished he could take flight, however such an act may shake up the already wary community. The sun warmed his body, the extra layer of clothing didn't help the cause. He made an attempt to remain in the shadows out of necessity. The blood red buildings helped some as he began to approach the great aperture that separated the quadrants of the city.

In Laats domain he began to cross the shorter of the bridges, not to mention the oldest of the bridges, over the aperture. Another strange tingle grew up his spine as he approached the heavily decorated, stone, bridge. Narrow, much like many of the pathways of Nyka, the bridge had plenty of activity upon it. Men and woman alike prayed near the sides, while other gathered with gear on their backs. A monk nearby held a rope ladder ready to toss it over the side and lower the brave to an exciting journey. But as he approached the center of the bridge, he could almost feel a calling to him. Perhaps it was mere illusion or even foolishness, but Xavior felt he belonged near the aperture for some unforeseen reason.

Xavior's rusted red eyes only glanced at people as he continued to walk self segregated from the community's daily activities. Instead he chose to live a reclusive life, shut out from the world as he did his own thing. However, his neighbors seemed to warm up to his company. They upgraded to single word sentences rather than simple grunts as replies to his greetings. Of course, the upgrade had come with a bit of hypnotic suggestion. To have friends among the enemy was always beneficial.

Soon's Xavior's heavy foot falls landed on the opposite end of the bridge. The celestial square was busy with people of all sorts. The four bridges connected to the main square and was a perfect symbol of the unity within the community. A unity that Xavior had not yet felt welcomed to, or at least belonged to. He continued on his way as the background of the expansive temple slowly drifted around as he walked. He had asked a child if he knew of a place that sold animal fur or where he could find survival gear. Xavior needed to stock up anyway, maybe even purchase more supplies for his own survival. He gave a street name as well as a quadrant and was off on his way before Xavior was able to say thank you. The youth of the world are innocent and easier to coerce with magical influence into telling proper information needed. The more wise, the adults, were much harder to get an oz of information from; at least that was the case with Xavior.

Soon the Celestial Palace had turned in his sight a quarter turn. Many more people crowded the area along with the monks that kept guard and order among the community. There presence seemed to be greater at the Celestial Square, Xavior figured it was because of who lived within the palace itself. But such matter did not interest Xavior as he approached a bridge that seemed to be piece together with many different rocks. What Xavior didn't know was the original bridge had been destroyed during that great storm. It was truly a great and devastating event and Xavior was fortunate to have made it out alive.

As he crossed the etched together bridge blissfully unaware of the symbolism implanted into it and in the community a building came into his sight. The Bloody Hunter overlooked the deep crevice that held much mystery to everyone within the blood stained walls of Nyka. Soon he crossed the street that led to the building, the Iron Avenue. While he began to approach, he couldn't help but note an interesting trio. They appeared to be on their way to the same location, or perhaps Xavior was merely attempting to find patterns in an unfamiliar environment.

by **Malavos** on August 6th, 2012, 7:18 pm

The smelly one was stalling. Wasting precious times. Malavos could hear it in his voice. Uncertainty. Weakness. Useless. And he still wanted to take the lead? Whatever the long pointy things there were he would see them for himself as long as someone realized that he had to "just take us there." The kelvic was getting impatient. Expressed with a loud audible growl to go after the harsh tone of his voice to intimidate the other man into action. If not, maybe the angry face he was pulling that showed his bare teeth might just as it had with tougher characters in the Ravok pits.

And then there was the other man that Malavos had a chance of meeting in the Warfields last season. The disgusting human that beat him in the fight. A chance wasted to beat his face right in that Malavos regrets. It was his belief that the only reason he was not declared the winner as he rightfully should be was because he exposed himself as a kelvic. Racist bastards thinking that his kind was no good except as slaves for their amusement. Should have just let Kassan be the winner. As far his hurting and ugly face would let him think.

Since he had no reason to fight here, Malavos would not want make one but that did not mean he would allow himself to be put under the charge of these humans any longer. Grunting he told the group that "you go" because he intended to be better than the humans who thought that they were so smart. But they were wrong and he will prove it when "I'll follow the clues" right down to the letter.

"it is at iron’s end you’ll seek"

At least the humans did their part in leading Malavos down to the Iron but the clue said nothing about a shop. Without waiting for the others he started off down the street alone leaving the rest of the group. Ignoring the rest of the shops around him that may or may not be the ones Kassan was talking about. His destination was only at the end of the avenue and soon he found it.

The Bloody Hunter

It was right at the end, just by the place where all the monsters come from and it looked like it was the only place which dared to be there. Made things simpler for the kelvic. No other shops to confuse him about where he was supposed to go to. Once inside he was sure that he was at the right place or something.

"the tools of the forest’s enemies.”

With enough weapons, equipment and trophies for a small army he definitely was at the right place. All that was left is "the next clue." Was he going to get if from the hairless shopkeep?

OOCSee you guys there!

by **Liar** on August 9th, 2012, 3:16 am

Kit lead them almost all the way there, but ultimately became distracted by the sweet smell of a rations stall down the road. He departed from Kassan in one direction while Malavos loped in the other, entering the shop that was the riddle’s answer.

Ovechse looked up when he heard the kelvic enter. There was a fresh pink scar on the side of his face, snaking down his neck and into his shirt, pulling half of his mouth into a frown even as he smiled an invitation at the entering kelvic. He was about to look down again when he noticed the monk emerge behind him, eyes drawn first at the symbol on his chest and then at the slip of paper in his hand.

If he recognized it for the task it was, he did not say anything. His attention strayed to a barrelful of spears—some made of stone, others of iron, bronze, and even steel—before it moved to the door and the creature that entered behind the monk. The zith was a strange and unwelcome sight to the shopkeep but still he said nothing, with the protection of the brown robes that stood between them. His eyes met Kassan’s in a moment of insecurity, then dropped again. There was a fletcher’s kit laid out on the countertop before him, and he was soon reoccupied with the half-sharpened arrowhead beneath his hand.

Should they ask him for the next riddle, Ovechse would shrug and play dumb. It was not his responsibility to give it, but rather theirs to find it. The answer was already before them, hidden in the words that brought them here.

OOC :

by **Xavior Silhouette** on September 10th, 2012, 4:36 am

Xavior walked into the shop behind a monk. He was quick to recognize the robes they wore having brushed with them quite closely when he initially arrived to Nyka. The shop was lit dimly compared to the warm sun outside. The volume of gear as well as mounted skins helped hinder the light from the windows of the shop. A musty pungent scent hung heavy in the air, a scent of dust, flesh, and metal. A unique scent that fit perfectly to the shop. He stood in the door way for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the light.

He couldn't help but squint and make a face as he attempted to help his eyes along. But when they finally regained focused his eyes met with the shop keep. Xavior knew the expression on the disfigured face, it was one he was met with throughout the entire city. He was an outcast, unwelcome to the city. He briefly remembered how Sunberthians didn't seem to bat an eye to his arrival in town. As if it was a regular occurrence or perhaps those of Sunberth were to afraid of the zith. Maybe they feared confrontation and the threat of a shadow with sharp talons consuming them in wings and muscle. Then only to scream as their limbs were torn off and chest ripped open; the ferocity of Ziths were legendary.

But now as Xavior walked warily into the shop he adjusted the heavy cloak draped over his shoulder. He brought a hand up to the heavy hood that hung limply along his broad shoulders. With a quick flick he slid it over the thick dreadlocks of his hair quickly shielding his face as if in shame.

"I assure you, it is only out of courtesy." Xavior thought to himself as he lifted the piece of paper into his vision. "I know what I am and that I will not cause a massacre anytime soon." Xavior snorted and grunted softly as his heavy feet thudded on the floor. "With Nature's grisly game inside...the tools of the forest's enemies. Hmm," Xavior looked around, as if he had to, only to confirm that the shop fit the description within the riddle.

He let the other occupants of the shop wander as he moved to the shop keep. The man seemed to be uneasy and was readily able to tell when Xavior approached. His head turned toward the cloaked form of the Zith and caught the rusty red eyes that hid in the shadows of the cloth. Xavior kept his arms in as much of a neutral position as possible. He didn't even lean on the scratched, wooden counter. Xavior stood in silence as he studied the man much like he studied himself.

Xavior began to focus within himself, "I think a bit of help is needed with these first few seconds." Xavior focused and began to direct a small amount of flow of djed to his vocal chords. "Well, lets hope he isn't as thick skinned as he looks."

Xavior's lips finally parted, "Good day sir. I hope I am not interrupting but I have a question for you." Xavior's voice traveled smoothly and with the deep, growling resonance of his vocal chords carried with it his djed in the form of suggestion. Though it was not spoken or even indicated in the common greeting, it suggested to the man that he was not a threat nor an enemy. The same bit of suggestion continued to shower the man as he continued the conversation.

"You are, but that is okay. What are you looking for?" The man spoke with a smoother and proper tone than Xavior expected.

Xavior wanted to talk with the man a bit longer before asking the question. His eyes scanned the table in front of him and noticed the wet stone as well as the arrowheads. "Well I was," Xavior paused and acted as if he had just noticed the tools in front of him, "hmm bet that takes a steady hand to sharpen the edge of an arrow."

"It does, but I've been doing it for a long while. You gotta be gentle and slow to get a razor sharp edge." The man seemed to be passionate about his craft.

Xavior picked up on that and decided to go for the first more blatant suggestion in the conversation. "I enjoy the craft, I'm not one to use claws or attack out of feral desires." He rumbled in a short chuckle.

"Well that is fortunate. I apologize I'm very busy, if you are through," the man seemed to make a move back to his work.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I see something curious and I can't help myself asking about it. I'm here in search of a riddle. The first pointed me in this direction," Xavior paused and scratched the long fur that framed his chin, "attempting to get to know the culture here. I'm from somewhere, well uncultured and quite wild."

"You mean from the forest?" The man shot back quickly. Xavior only remained quiet not wanting to reveal the city he had just come from.

"Yes the forest. Quite untamed and exciting to say the least." Xavior grinned in a friendly way.

The shop keep chuckled, "yes the forest can be quite exciting. It is why I fell in love with it. Anyway, if you are here for Laat's festival the answer you seek is already in your hand."

"Oh ho? The answer to the location was under my nose the whole time huh?" The shop keep nodded, "hmm," Xavior looked at the paper, then he looked back up the man, "thank you for the help. Perhaps I'll be back another day to resupply my equipment. Suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a survival kit just in case I get kicked out of here too quick aye?" Xavior chuckled at his joke but thought to himself, "I really hope he took that as a joke."

"Perhaps you can give me a few tips as well. I'm not much of a hunter, heck, you may say I'm not much of a zith either." Xavior smiled and turned away as the man went back to his work.

"With Nature’s grisly game inside and crowned with the color of lost life, it is at iron’s end you’ll seek the tools of the forest’s enemies." Xavior repeated the line to himself as he looked around the room. Spears, axes and many other tools used in hunting presented themselves to Xavior. "Spears? Could it be found over there? Xavior began to walk toward the bundled, wooden, and iron tipped shafts and only looked over them at a distance as he became aware of the monk.

He noticed a similar piece of paper in the monk's hand and wondered if he was on the same, fun, scavenger hunt. "Perhaps I should check the quivers. Arrows seemed to be more of an enemy of the forest. I know my bolts are rather deadly, perhaps the riddle is referring to them?" Xavior found the bundles of arrows with different tips to them. He even found some bolts and contemplated purchasing them but held off. "Wouldn't want to be walking around the city with a fist full of bolts." Xavior continued his search hoping his hunch was correct.