Open Syliras Docks

[Caweyre]

Syliras Docks Season of Spring, Day 2, 513 AV On the south side of the docks of Syliras, through the covered alleyways and open streets, a small patch of beach has been left untouched. It serves as a small park for the citizens of the city, and a reminder of what this stretch of the ocean side looked like before the fortress was built. Here, one can look out over the innumerable vessels moored in the harbor, a vista of multicolored sails. Caweyre walked slowly into the ocean. His pale blue eyes blinked away the dryness until he was far enough into the water that he could sit down an immerse himself in it. The sea felt good to him, and his daily ritual brought him peace after a long day of work. Beneath the surface, the comforting hum of distant sounds, and the songs of deep reminded him of his home, so far away now. Without restoring himself in this way, he would surely parish in the dry, treacherous atmosphere of the surface. He scooped up a bit of sand from the floor of the ocean, and scoured his forearms with it, washing away the steady accumulation of grime he picked up in the apothecary. He ran his webbed hands over his dorsal fins. After a few minutes he darted a bit further into the waves, moving underwater more gracefully than he could ever hope to move on land. He avoided the docks for the most part, the water there was murky and riddled with trash. Thankfully, the currents pushed the debris away from the small swath of beach he used for his daily ritual. Deeper he swam, until the light of the surface was distorted by the prism of the churning waters above. Here, he closed his eyes, and let himself be lost in the chaos of the sea. It was amusing to him. When he'd had all of this, every day, he'd hardly appreciated it. Vast beautiful coral vistas, full of life. A world beyond the bounds of gravity. He'd spent the days of his youth clambering for every glimpse of the surface world he could get. Now that he had it, he lived for the hour or so he spent within the sea's comforting embrace. A passing fish snapped him from his meditations, and he swam deeper until he found the ocean floor. He scavenged along it. Some of the merchants of the bazaar would pay well for a large shell in pristine condition. If he got lucky, he thought he could make a few days wages for the right find. He searched among the rocks and seaweed, but only found a few small knickknacks: an old rusted watch, the abandoned shell of a small crab, and a piece of pretty green glass worn smooth over time. These he inserted into his pouch. They would make good additions to his growing horde of scavenged "treasures." For a long while after he returned to the surface he sat in the shallows by the beach, allowing the waves to lap against his exposed stomach while he watched the ships roll in, or sail towards the horizon. The sun had just began its journey towards night, and the sky was slowly being painted orange. The ocean reflected the pastels of the clouds as it stretched outwards to infinity. A slow smile crept over Caweyre's face. There are no sunsets in the depths. The world above had its own charms. ((OOC note: Caweyre is going to be coming to this location every day until at least the 30th of the season of spring. If you'd like to rp, just have your character wander down here around sunset, and we can do a scene together. Pick any day that works for you.))

[Xarl]

Rarely did Xarl ever go to the Syliras docks, in all his life spent within the walls of the great fortress-city he could count on his right hand the number of times he'd walked here. Today was... different, today he needed time to think. He did not have to work the bar at the Rearing Stallion tonight, and his lessons with his mistress had ended two nights ago.

He supposed that he could have simply waited at home, however a number of people he'd spoken to had claimed that the best place for him to sort his thoughts out was the Docks. So here the tall black haired man stood staring out at the sun as it fell from the sky, feeling rather... frustrated.

The sea smelled of salt and fish and other things that he generally found unpleasent. The cold air of winter had not entirely left the air yet as the spring was still young. Xarl drew his cloak closer to him as he gazed out at the seemingly endless sea, his expression cold and his grey eyes narrow.

He ignored the sailors that passed him by, in return they did not spare him another glance went about their work. Normally he would have struck up a conversation with the nearest person, maybe even find a way to con them out of some Mizas for old times sake. Not today though, today was the day when he could work out what his plan was now that he possessed few things attaching him to this city.

The obvious question was, where to now? The most obvious answer was Zeltiva, they possessed a college there was well reknown and perhaps it would be a good place to further his training beyond his mistress. Unfortunately he had yet to recieve word as to whether or not the plague had passed yet, so thus he was stuck here until then.

Xarl hated, having little to no control over his destiny, being subject to the whims of cruel gods and their tyranny.

One day, he thought darkly as he gazed out at the sea, his gaze as cold as ice. One day they will all be powerless before me, one day all will tremble at the name Xarl, and no one, be they mortal or divine will stand in my way.

[Caweyre]

Caweyre eyed Xarl as he reached down to the beach to pick up his sharkskin cloak. As he fastened it around his neck, he took a few moments to smooth his fins, and preen as he regarded the skinny, intense looking human who watched the sunset. The Charodan stood and began to leave, but something in him stopped him from walking home. Perhaps, he thought, he was beginning to get a little lonely. He cautiously approached Xarl, and smiled pleasantly, careful not to expose the rows of sharp shark-like teeth that so often seemed to make humans nervous around him. “Greeting stranger,” said Caweyre, his voice thick with an exotic accent to the ears of a Syliran, “Beautiful sunset, is it not?” Caweyre gathered his cloak around his body, also conscious of the slight chill in the air, but more because he felt ill-at-ease among the folk of the surface. His thin, diaphanous black pants were still wet, and his boots still sat on the beach beside him. He was bare crested, and the corded muscles of his stomach played beneath his rubbery blue-grey skin. He stood a few feet away from Xarl when turned his milky, pupil-less eyes to share the sunset with the man. In the distance, a ships bell echoed through the air.

[Xarl]

Xarl was torn from his internal machinations as he was approched by an odd blue skinned man, dressed in a garb of sharkskin. His accent was exotic to his ears and his tone seemed friendly.

The young hypnotist shifted gears from plotting and to interaction, lighting the cold glint in his eyes with a warm gaze and plastering his signature charming smile on his face. A skillful manipulator had to think on the fly and be prepared for the unexpected. He glanced at the man with his new friendly expression.

"It is indeed beautiful, a sight that sadly goes unappreciated by most." Xarl said, his words articulate and smooth.

The young hypnotist turned to the strange man, his hand held out before him.

"A pleasure to meet you sir, my name is Xarl." He said with a slight incline of his head to the other man, looking directly into the other man's eyes.

Eye contact was key in gaining a person's trust, it showed that he possessed nothing to hide. This was of course untrue, he had quite a few things to hide, but people seemed to think that his tendency to hold their gaze made him trustworthy. More the fools were they.

Xarl was unfamiliar with the man's race and certainly hoped that he was not offending the man by offering his hand for a shake.

[Caweyre]

Caweyre smiled again as he met Xarl’s eyes. It took little trickery to earn the trust of the sheltered Charodan. He’d spent most of his life interacting with no-one outside his own clan, and even then, his gullible nature had made him the butt of his siblings’ practical jokes more often than he probably deserved. This time, he didn't think to hide his three rows of wicked looking teeth when he grinned. He took Xarl’s hand without a second thought. His skin was wet and rubbery, like the skin of an eel. “I used to swim to the surface to watch the colours on the rare occasions when I could escape our farm. The marvels of your world have never ceased to astound me.” With his free hand, Caweyre gestured to the fleet of docked ships, and the intimidating walls of the citadel city before he continued, “I am Caweyre of Charbosi.” His handshake was firm and over-long, as if he were hesitant to end their brief moment of contact. His gaze ran up and down Xarl’s body as he released his grip upon the man’s hand. His head tilted to one side, but his eyes were unreadable. He smelled faintly of herbs, and more strongly of the sea. He continued, “Forgive me, but you are human if I’m not mistaken, correct?" Then, after a short pause, "Is this the land of your birth?” Caweyre’s open nature was apparent in his voice, which seemed tinged with the desperation of a newcomer, mostly alone in a new city. He was, as the saying goes, an easy mark. He wore a small pouch upon one side of his waist, laden with unknown objects, and a short, expensive looking dagger upon the other.

[Xarl]

So he was new to Syliras, Xarl had been able to deduce that much, but he was also able to pick up on a few things just from this brief contact. He seemed to possess a certain fish out of water feel about him, an overwhelmed person in a new and frightening place. The way he had held his hand too long showed inexperiance and longing for friendly contact, an interesting and possibly useful quality.

He filed these things away for future use, this Caweyre of Charbosi could prove an easy mark should Xarl desire to manipulate or con him. An unlikely event today, but it paid to be prepared for all eventualities. The young hypnotist chuckled good naturedly at the man's question and clapped a hand on Caweyre's shoulder, a friendly gesture.

"Yes I am human, at least last time I checked, and Syliras has been my home for as long as I can remember." He answered, his tone light and warm.

"You, my friend, seem to resemble a fish out of water, if you don't mind the turn of phrase." Xarl said, quirking an aristocratic eyebrow slightly.

Humor was always a good way to open interactions, and subtle words and phrases like, "My Friend," or ,"My Dear," tended to work wonders on a persons perception of him. The young hypnotist took this opertunity to quickly size Caweyre up and immediately zeroed in on his dagger, a useful thing to note on anyone no matter how friendly they seemed. The man also wore his coin purse rather openly, suggesting a trusting personality.

[Caweyre]

When Caweyre chuckled at Xarl’s joke, it sounded less like human laughter than a series of bizarre clicks interrupted by soft, strange sounding whistles. He reached his own hand up to the hand Xarl hand placed on his shoulder, and rested his fingers gently upon it for a few moments before he crouched. He slipped his web-toed right foot clumsily into one of his boots as he spoke, “Indeed, I am! Your city has proven more welcoming to me than Charbosi would likely be to you were our positions reversed. Perhaps it is better to be a fish out of water than a wolf beneath the waves.” Caweyre managed to get his other foot into his second boot after a failed attempt. He’d first put on a pair of shoes less than three weeks ago, and had yet to adjust to having his feet confined. Still, it was preferable to allowing his skin to interact with the less than pleasant surface of the streets of the medieval city he now called home. As he fumbled with his footwear, he looked up at Xarl with an expression that could only be called concern, though exactly what it was in his features that communicated that would be hard to identify. “When I saw you watching the sunset you seemed troubled, friend. Forgive me if I misread your expression, human faces still seem so strange to my eyes. Are you in some sort of trouble?” More often than not, the Charodan would have minded his own business, preferring to let the gods, and fate, rule the lives of men. Still, this stranger had shown him some kindness, and seemed to be a good man. Also, Xarl had called him friend. If he could help in any way, he decided he would. Even if only by offering a compassionate ear.

[Xarl]

The young hypnotist chuckled slightly at Caweyre's turn of phrase, and noticed that the blue skinned man seemed to have some difficulty putting on his boots. He shook his head slightly and turned his gaze back out at sea, pondering how best to respond to his question. It was a simple question but one that Xarl, for once had difficulty answering.

Xarl was not an honest man by any stretch of the imgination, he lied and cheated and manipulated to get his way. He never, ever showed anyone, save his mistress, his true self the one that dreamed of owning everything and everyone. He also found it difficult to talk about his troubles truthfully to other, a symptom of his manipulative nature perhaps.

He allowed himself to slip into a ponderous expression, the warmth of his eyes being replaced by some of the chill from before. Perhaps talking to this man about his current issues would put things in perspective for him, it certainly seemed to work for the idiots who blabbed to him at the Rearing Stallion. Xarl would, of course, have to be careful with how he phased his answers, giving to much away could be dangerous.

He took a deep breath and glanced back at Caweyre, "Trouble? I suppose you could call it that."

"You see I find myself at something of a crossroads, one stays here and the other leads away." Xarl began, phrasing his words carefully.

"The one that would lead away leads to Zeltiva, a city shrouded in plague but where a great place of learning lies. The one that keeps me here would have me hone my skills in Syliras for a time longer, before setting out to find that which I seek." Xarl continued, every word spilling from him now, without thought of the consequenses.

"So you see I find myself at an impass, with one path leading me to danger and possible power, and the other to safety and stagnation. I am, for the first time in my life, free, but I do not know what I want to do with that freedom." Xarl said, looking Caweyre in the eyes again.

The young hypnotist chuckled bitterly, "In a way I am as out of my element as you, my friend."

[Caweyre]

Caweyre sat upon the beach after he’d put his boots on, arms resting casually on his knees while he listened to Xarl’s troubles. At first, he watched the man’s face carefully, but as the human continued speaking he allowed his gaze to slip first to the ground, and then towards the setting sun. The vivid orange hues refracting through the clouds had been replaced by a pleasant mixture of reds and purples that brought to mind, for him, an unsettling dream. Still, he paid close attention to the words of his companion, lest some subtlety of the humans’ common tongue elude his unpracticed ears. He met Xarl’s eyes as the man finished speaking, his lips drawn together in a pensive, thoughtful expression. His translucent eyelids absorbed and reflected the evening hues from across the water. The rhythmic sound of the waves upon the beach, and the crying of gulls filled the silence for a short while he as sat in silence, pondering. This was a problem close to his heart. “I can identify with your plight. I took a great risk in fleeing to your city. The elders of Char forbade me to do so, and in all likelihood I will face great troubles should I ever chose to return there,” saying that, Caweyre sighed and picked up a small rock to toss into the waves. Almost without pause he continued, “On the other hand, what awaited me in my homeland was a life of unfulfilled dreams, and the constant drudgery of a farmer’s labors.” His gaze turned thoughtful as his mind’s eye cast itself upon his home, and all that he’d left behind. The face of his sister’s newborn child, his niece, was foremost among his visions of regret. He shook this away, and peered intently at the man. “My advice to you, Xarl, would be to follow your dream to Zeltiva, whatever the cost. Otherwise, regardless of the comfort you may find in safety, you will live a life of regret. It may be better to die than to live knowing you could have been something more, and perhaps you feel out of your element because you're in the wrong place... Every day I spend here makes me more sure that I made the right decision.” Cawerye rose clumsily to his feet, still only half adjusted to the gravity of the surface-bound, and drew his cloak around him. He smiled softly, and clasped his own hand upon the human’s shoulder, in imitation of the gesture the man had made towards him. He nodded a polite farewell, “In any case, I do not feel safe in the city after dark, no matter what the knights say. I should return to my apartment.” With that, the Charodan turned away from Xarl, and made his way back home through the streets, and alleyways of Syliras. ((OOC: If Xarl wants to stop Caweyre from walking away, feel free to RP that, and I’ll amend the last line to reflect the change. ^_^))

[Xarl]

OCC: Don't worry, I'm done. If you'd like to RP with me again don't hesitate to send me a PM.

Xarl stood there for a moment, pondering the words of Caweyre as the other man walked towards the city proper. Perhaps he was right, safety was all well and good but the great men of the world took risks to become great. Perhaps this was his risk, the path to power was frought with many dangers it was said.

The young hypnotist took one last look at the setting sun before turning and walking back into the city proper. The time had come, his decision was made and he would not shy away from whatever the gods sent his way. Sparing a glance at Caweyre departing form he nearly chuckled, finding it funny that a man so out of his element had perhaps been the one to set him back upon the path he needed to be on. The path he had always been fated to walk.

Perhaps, when Xarl became more powerful, when he had men ready to die at his command, when his name was spoken in hushed whispers he would seek Caweyre out. To thank the man who told him what he'd needed to hear, to reward him. One day, far from today.