Completed A message from a dead man

[Arianthe Swansong]

The cold air engulfed Arianthe very suddenly as soon as she had left the bar, simultaneously almost painful and quite refreshing, engulfing her lungs with new, cool air that cleared her head immediately. She turned to her companion who had obviously had too much to drink for the air to have any positive effect on him. His long legs were sliding around, like an image of a 'daddy longlegs' slipping around over a sheet of ice. Arianthe smiled, concealing an urge to laugh.

At his request and after a brief hesitation, she immediately rushed to help him stand up, passing an arm around him though this was no easy task bearing in mind his tall stature and her petite height.

"Of course. I'll help you." she paused, looking up to see if he was registering anything that she was saying, "We can take a shortcut through an alley up there which will save a few minutes and, in this cold, I do not imagine there should be any trouble."

With no small difficulty, she started making her way in the proposed direction, half supporting him and rather amused by the ridiculousness of the situation, imagining that the pair of them must look a rather silly sight - a young boy supporting a half drunk abnormally tall man who, far from becoming violent as a result of his intoxication like most men she had known drunk up to that point, seemed rather jovial, indeed his language had become a lot more flowery.

[Reaver Riatal]

As the smaller boy moved to support him he blinked a few times himself. Trying to focus his sharp eyes upon his surroundings. Seeing into the night as his eyes adjusted to the darkness that clung to the streets. His long legs wiggled a little like a young foal who had made its first discovery of ice. And the difficulty that came with its stability. Almost stumbling once he found Atticus to be quite the tough young lad as he kept him steady. Though his eyes and mind wandered he was able to pay attention to his young compatriot. Patting Atticus's shoulder, Reaver made an attempt to force himself steady once more. Able to take a few steps he allowed Atticus to lead him towards this shorter route he had proposed. His legs held steady for a few steps before becoming slow or forgetting that their task was to transport their owner. This caused a couple stumbles and false starts that almost caused him to lose his stature. Though each time a fall almost became of him, the support of the young boy at his side helped him remain upright. Taking a breath he decided to drum up some conversational topics from his drunken mind. "I have quickly discovered that I like the beer here, if not of taste but of the delightful feeling I have now. I c-cannot remember its name at this p-particular moment. But the cold h-air, I mean the cold, nights air. Seems to be making me think a little easier."

He gave his mouth pause as he realized just how drunk he was, he was also quick to realize that the young boy would be leading through the dark streets. Was he too inhibited to perform his magic? Surely he could do something while in this state. With a renewed vigor he managed to shout something incoherent that even if heard wouldn't make sense to anyone but another drunk. Shaking his head a little he managed to force a little focus into his mind. It ran a quick calculation in his mind. It was the start of winter meaning that those of ill nature had little business outside of the cities. That mean's they'd turn inward and bother the local populace. So if they wen't into a dark alley, he had to protest to Atticus. "I do not believe" He gave pause, his mind had lost the focus he had given it. Though surely he'd sound like a fool if he left his sentence unfinished. And without missing a beat he spoke again. "That the people here, m-must be very very wet. Because this is a sail-sailor's port, so swimming is fun and they do that lots." Though the logic was more than flawed to his inhibited mind it was the most wise bit of wording he had given of the eve. However he had no doubt that come morning he'd feel like a horse's flank and have need to apologize.

His sharp blue eyes where cast upon Atticus, watching his movements. However he noticed something strange about the boy's hair, wondering what was so different he was interrupted as they where swallowed by darkness. The alley that he had promised had engulfed them. The feeling like he was forgetting something came over him. Like he had something actually intelligent to say but lacked the means to communicate it properly. His feet caused him to stumble over a cobblestone that had been propped out of place to what seemed more prosperously. Reaver's only reaction was a wide eyed shock as his long body was quick to embrace the same stone floor which he had trodden upon not long ago. Giving a loud thump and a groan of pain he lay there for a moment. The sudden flair of nerves had helped to sober him up some, he was able to think a little more clear now. Thinking about his fall and how nice and convenient he had fallen flat in a dark alley. He lay in wait, hearing large and heavy foot falls of what would clearly be a thug. His suspicion had been confirmed. A trap had been laid for those who knew the streets of Zeltiva. Taking a spare moment as the threat slowly began to approach, most likely with weapon he would assume. He was preparing his own, the pooling of an ethereal blue res began to build up inside his gloves. He'd not be caught without a means of defending himself, something he'd hope to prove to their assailant.

[Arianthe Swansong]

As soon as Reaver hit the ground, Arianthe's head shot up and she looked around the darkness. She could not see anything and cursed herself for getting into that situation... why did she never learn? She always trusted in things too much, but she also knew that only a true citizen of Zeltiva would have known of this shortcut.

"Don't speak." She murmured this to Reaver and hoped he was not too drunk that he did not notice.

Not being able to see anything, she resorted to feeling for the auras around her, though her skill in auristics was limited.

"Please don't say a word." she said this again, worried that, in this state, he would do something brash. She had no skill in fighting and he did not look like he had much either, even without being drunk. Trying to hide and stay quiet was their best option.

It was then that she heard a grunt and, near the corner of her vision, saw a surge of an orange glow that was for her eyes only around a dark figure and could sense the violence, victory and greed mingled within it. She bit her lip. It was coming closer and was soon joined by another green aura, this one so overcome by greed that no red was even mildly shown. Two things occurred to her at that point.

Firstly, and she was very ashamed of this, she could make a run for it, leaving Reaver to face the attacker alone and go back to her apartment, happy not to have suffered at all from the encounter and, though she would be a little mizas down on what she would have been payed, she would still be alive and well. There was an intense survival instinct in her that was pushing for this - she had already suffered so much violence and emotional turmoil and pain that she felt she was perfectly within her rights to play the part of the coward, not be chastised for it and not expect any more suffering.

Secondly, and this was the noble, self-sacrificing part of her mingled with pride and a sense of duty (and maybe a little pretension - the belief that she was destined for tragedy) she felt she should stay and face the thugs with dignity, hopefully managing to get both of them into a corner before they appeared. Maybe Reaver would prove to be a good fighter, though she sincerely doubted it.

With this in mind, she knelt down by his side.

"Come on. Get up. Hurry up." She said very quickly in a breath that would only be audible to him, "Please. I just need to get us into a doorway or corner or something so that they can't see us or trip on us. It's dark."

[Reaver Riatal]

Reaver lay still for a moment longer calculating his options, though his mind was inhibited still. The pain and cold air had done much to set his senses right and it allowed for him to think with his usual quick reflex. He knew that a shield would be pointless right now. The time it took and the focus for djed, there just wasn't enough time. Even so he was terrible with shielding still and it would serve no purpose in this situation. Next up was his glyphing, and the only thought that he had for that was petch no. His short sword then perhaps? Yeah he'd be beaten to death by the time he as ready to fight. Then their was his reimancy, all he had to do was take off his gloves. However thanks to the generous drinks he had not long ago his accuracy with a fireball would likely turn the alley into a furnace. There was only one more option then, as he heard Atticus call him to his feet. Reaver kept his thoughts rolling as he managed to stand up his feet shuffling around for a moment before he found his footing. Though what he realized was they where closer to the entrance of the alley. Meaning that any light was out on the street and at their backs. Meaning the man would see their silhouettes against the light that came in from the street. This was not good at this rate even if they did hide chances where the man of ill intent would likely find them.

Though he disliked violence Reaver was far from any simple coward, after all he had his pride. Whispering something to Atticus his alcohol laden mind saw him a hero so he leaned on Atticus and pushed them both against the wall. Muttering in a low voice he spoke, "I-I'm sorry, stay put." Was all he said as he wobbled back onto his feet. Reaching up to his mouth he bit the end of his right glove and slid his hand free. The thin gloss of the ethereal blue res remained from when he had gotten nervous at the bar. There was no time like the present to use it. As he stood in wake of where Atticus was he counted the steps, listening to how much longer till the man was upon him. His body was working in overdrive as his heart hammered, however he needed to remain calm and focus on his djed. Creating just a little more res it would be enough. As the gloss turned to a thicker gel he moved once he felt the man was close enough. He kept his hand around upper chest to head height of the average man. He would not be caught with his pants down, he'd not be subjected to a mugging when he had power to prevent it. The King of Fire! That was his title! And he was going to prove he was just as worthy of such!

Contact, he felt his hand collide with something but it was quick to slide up and into the long greasy feel of hair. All the better, as he wiped the res on the man's forehead and into his hair he quickly stumbled past and landed on his side giving another loud grunt of pain. It seemed that aside from fire falling down was his next greatest talent. That mattered little however, he heard footsteps get closer to him. Farther from Atticus, those footsteps became a hand on his chest that lifted him clean to his feet and onto his tip toes. This man was indeed strong, a brute amongst thinkers. No wonder the dark allies had become this man's loyal ally. In his minds eye he could almost feel the fist reeling back most likely thinking of aiming for his gut. However Reaver preferred to avoid physical harm and smiled as he began to focus his will. Concentrating his mind to igniting the res that lay on the man's forehead and within his disgusting hair. Soon heat graced his face as he felt the man drop him back to his feet. A scream of pain and panic reared though the alley as an orange light surrounded the burning head of a stout thug. He suspected an Isur who had sought an easy life of mugging. That would make for the short height and astounding strength. But that mattered little, he produced a smaller amount of res in his hand and got it to float just above. Setting it to create a more stable source of light. The man fled in fear and most likely was looking for a source of water. Standing victorious, his face illuminated by the orange glow. His sharp blue eyes cocky and almost appearing malicious though they softened quickly as he felt the throbbing pain in his shoulder. His hair cast odd shadows upon his brow. The flame that danced above his hand wouldn't last very long.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Arianthe suddenly felt herself get pushed against the wall by Reaver and though in any other situation, she would have been indignant by this sudden proximity and this force used against her, she did not say a word and appreciated that he understood the urgency of the situation. She did not know quite what to do next, though her natural instinct was that they should stay in one place and hope for the best. Then again, she could also visibly see that the slightest thing could give them away and they would be noticed immediately - an open doorway shedding light on the street, accidentally knocking something which made a sound... if either of these men had any auristics powers (though she doubted it greatly)
Arianthe was about to suggest that the best thing to do would be to run, even in Reaver's state, and find their way back to a mainstreet where there would be enough people for the brigands to be less willing to try anything, for the laws of Zeltiva dealt with any 'issues' with surprising speed and dexterity.

Then Reaver got up and, if there had not been a certain confidence about his demeanour and if Arianthe had been less frightened, she would have thought him mad. She watched sharply, to see what he was doing then it hit her. Of course... she should have known since he first sat down that he possessed magic. She had immediately realised that there was something strange about the man, though at first she thought that this was simply because he was a foreigner, with foreign manners, maybe a little eccentric.

Arianthe watched wordlessly, expressionlessly, as he first defeated one man then a second, letting them slide onto the floor in front of him then scamper away as fast as their legs could carry them. She felt a little indignant that he had not thought to reassure her beforehand of his powers, but then again, she supposed that is not the sort of thing one does. The orange she could see of the man turned into real orange - burning bright reds and golds and an elusive hint of blue - as his head burnt, as it turned on fire.

Finally, Reaver was there, a flame dancing above his hand and a feeling of power eminating from him... his aura was purple, electric blue, shining, sparkling and his aura betrayed that he was in pain. She let go of the auristics for she was only a beginner and using them tired her out. Instead, she got up quickly and walked over to him cautiously, for in the midst of the destruction he had created, he looked almost dangerous.

"Are you hurt?" She asked quietly with a light smile, but otherwise her facial expressions were completely blank.

[Reaver Riatal]

As he stood on his feet he felt the need to relieve himself of the contents of his stomach. Though he did his best to suppress this feeling he ended up turning, snuffing the flame that had danced moments before in his hand. And let his body have its way as he opened his mouth to barf off into the side of the alley way. His stomach lurched once then twice and was finished and settled. Whipping his mouth with his palm he flicked the disgorge from his hand and steadied himself again. Looking to the young boy who was starting to sound more like a woman he nodded and cleared his throat. The familiar burning feeling from his spew still fresh in his throat. "Ah I could do with a glass of water, and my shoulder may pop from its holding with another fall. But otherwise I suspect I am well, supposedly at least." Standing on assured feet for a moment before they fell to the left putting his back to a wall. Giving a gentle groan he took a chime to collect himself. Letting his eyes close as he rested, he knew it would be a terrible idea to sleep here. Where criminals frequented and descended upon the kindly locals of the city. With this in mind his eyes snapped open and he pushed himself back to his brown booted feet.

Looking to his young companion or at least the dim outline of his young companion. Taking his spare glove and slipping it on he tried to get his eyes to adjust to the dark. The throbbing pain in his shoulder didn't desist with time or with the influence of cold. Sighing he felt himself more than a little paranoid as he looked around the dark alleyway. Setting his gaze back on his young partner's silhouette he reached out and grabbed hold of what he thought was the young man's shoulder. "Good young sir, I suggest we make haste from here. Least our company come back to greet us, with many an enraged friend. My reimancy may indeed be impressive. However in my current state I'd say we where lucky I managed to send the man running. Let us make post haste towards an inn with friendly patrons. Or at the very least a nice and warm room." He said as he rolled his shoulder and held onto it, the pain was steadily becoming annoying though he had nothing to remedy it. His mind grew hazy for a moment and turned to the exit of the alley. Finding that he didn't wish to be here any longer than he needed to. For if his words really where true and their hot headed friend did return. Well as entertaining as setting the alley ablaze was a delight. It was more efficient to retire for the evening.

As his body half walked and half stumbled from the alley he was basked in the light of the open street once more. Taking a long deep breath of freedom and safety finding the brisk air refreshing in his lungs. Letting himself examine the noises and sights of the world for just a moment. The few evening strollers walking down the street, the spare couple here and there. It wasn't really a romantic evening but he figured people would go out on any evening for romance, or other more nefarious things perhaps. His dirty thoughts gave birth to a gentle chuckle. Realizing quickly that he had not gone into that alleyway alone he looked around making sure Atticus had followed him out. The last thing he needed to night was to avoid a scrape with low chances of success. Only to get into another one with even worse chances, especially if Atticus had been nabbed whilst he was off distracted. His sharp blue eyes scanned around him not stopping until he found the boy. The incredibly feminine, short, and strange boy.

[Arianthe Swansong]

Arianthe watched as Reaver emptied his stomach to the side of the street, with a slight smile - not that it wasn't rather disgusting and made her feel queasy, but in her experience, once a drunk person had thrown up, he was generally more clear headed. He grabbed her shoulder and she helped steady him, in spite of their huge difference in height.

"Of course we must leave. I do not think that two pints of Kelp Beer in such quick succession agreed with your stomach... I don't suppose you've had much to eat today since I know food helps. If it does indeed, I know a good, quite cheap place where you could have a meal. It's not far away from where I propose you lodge either, Sir."

At this point, he had moved on, abandoning her shoulder and she took the opportunity to brush a spider off her chest where it had lodged itself when she had been pushed against the old wall. It refused to go and she had to cup it in her hands and place it on the ground, watching it scurry away in direction of a lantern at the entrance of the street they had just been down. Well, good luck to it - she supposed it was a far less dangerous street at this time of night to a spider than to a human, or rather maybe not since nobody cared If you killed a spider, and there were always birds nearby who saw a good little snack in a large spider.

Arianthe turned back to Reaver and ran after him to where he was waiting. He was grinning and chuckling lightly and she could not help but wonder what amused him so. She was tempted to ask, but decided against it. Many things which were the funniest turned out not to be so funny when re-told. Besides, it would look as though she were prying.

"This way." she murmured, indicating that they turn left, "The Blue Moon Inn is up here. I know the price is good and Madam Hedda, who owns it, is by all accounts an absolutely charming woman to her guests. It's simple but clean and tidy, the food is edible and sometimes rather nice if you wish to dine there, and..." Arianthe paused flushing slightly though it was not visible in the poor lighting, "If you ask her, and for a small price, she can have a woman brought in from East Street - and Madam Hedda prides herself on only picking the best - to, um..." Again Arianthe broke off, grinding her fingers together in a slight nervous gesture, "To warm your bed. Do not worry. It's a perfectly respectable establishment and, as I previously mentioned, the price is more than reasonable."

[Reaver Riatal]

Stumbling a little he could still feel a mild buzz in his head. And as his feet wondered beside Atticus as he led him his mind did its usual thing and wondered for a few brief seconds. Though in his mind those brief seconds became quite a bit longer. His eyes examined what was happening before him the road and all the buildings that crowded it. With the poor lighting they seemed like large shadowed and imposing figures who could descend upon them and put an end to this entertaining night. Though this was most likely just his brain still fresh from a fight. Fight wasn't really the right word considering regardless of the situation someone would have been burning alive. Had he any less control he could have had a transmutation within his own body. The prospect of fire igniting under his skin forced a shiver from him. This shiver forced his mind to the present as Atticus talked of the Blue Moon Inn. Before his mind could wander and ponder the name of the in, his attention was held steadfast by the apparent good price. This was great news indeed, until he was able to secure a financial situation he'd have to rely on good or cheep prices. The last thing he'd want is to end up on the street begging for a cup of beer or a single miza. Shaking off the thought he listened further to his young companion.

As his sharp blue eyes became half hidden by lowered eye lids he suddenly felt them raise. Atticus' last sentence had intrigued him greatly though only disappointment struck him. Realizing that though he was plentiful in coin right now. That money would be gone before the season even ended should he resort to prostitution. Though he did wish to feel the warmth of a woman's flesh, he'd need a steady flow of miza's. Or perhaps if he where a more persuasive man he could simple convince a woman. Regardless he'd remain a virgin until he had either miza or a silver tongue. With this in mind his feet kept following the path that Atticus led. Turning every which way he desired and not before long he found the inn which he had spoken of. After emptying the contents Reaver did find himself rather hungry. Perhaps a little bit of food would perk him up, and something to wash it down. But only half a mug, he didn't want to repeat his actions in the alley. As they approached the lit up inn he noticed that it was as he said, simple but very neat and tidy. Honestly he was impressed and more than happy his small friend hadn't led him to some run down place owned by a relative.

As they drew to it he felt his limbs growing heavy and tired, chances where once inside and paid for he'd eat, grab a drink, and it would be off to bed. A wise man always made sure to get the sleep he'd need to face the next morning. And while not exactly wise, Reaver was at least intelligent enough to follow a wise man's advice. Though as light began to leak upon their features Reaver's sharp blue eyes made a short examination. Noticing the young boy's features he had to squint slightly. Did this young man seem as he was? He realized that it could very well be his tired mind merely making some fun. Sighing as he entered the establishment, his mind slipped away for the rest of the day. Most likely not to remember what would transpire within the bell before bed.

[Cascade]

Adventurer's Loot Arianthe's Loot : Skill XP Reward Disguise +2 Acting +2 Auristics +2 Observation +1 Lore: Zeltiva: The Kelp Bar Dressed As A Man Fake Name: Atticus Kelp Beer's Taste Hired As A Zeltivan Guide An Intoxicated Reaver Zeltiva: Thugs In Dark Alleys Reaver: Reimancer Reaver's Loot : Skill XP Reward Rhetoric +3 Observation +2 Reimancy +2 Lore: Zeltiva: The Kelp Bar Atticus: Zeltivan Guide Intoxicated by Kelp Beer Kelp Beer's Taste Zeltiva: Thugs In Dark Alleys Entertaining thread. It would be interesting to see a second meeting wherein Arianthe isn't in disguise. Anyway, the Blue Moon Inn doesn't actually exist (yet?) in Zeltiva, and I suggest that in the future, you stick to those already in the linkmap. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to PM me!