Home of the Eypharian Woman [Closed]

[Tyuru]

Through it all, Tyuru stood awkwardly by the door. The blush was rising steadily on her face and all the attention was causing her ego to grow even larger, if that was possible. Instead of trying to be modest, she remained quiet, but did half-glare at the man she heard to be Aren when he commented about her hips. She was particularly self-conscious about the extra chubbiness they held.

As for being beautiful on the inside, Tyuru had her doubts. Beauty really was in the eye of the beholder and she had yet to decide for herself if her soul held beauty. “I know what you mean, Wystern,” she said, acknowledging his name with a nod toward him, “you can’t judge based on outside appearance. I once knew a girl who was the happiest person you could know, but somehow she lied almost constantly.” Tyuru couldn’t help but reminisce about her childhood friend whose smile hid everything.

“Alright, I’ll come with. But only because flattery is the quickest way to my heart. And because you find my presence comforting, and who am I to leave a charming woman when she gains comfort from my mere presence?” She couldn’t help the smile that entered her voice.

Once again something burst from her lips before she could stop it, a very blunt question that Tyuru asked shamelessly. “Where did you get your scar?”

[Aren]

Aren took hold of his kind host's hand, "It is awful dark in here." He'd be glad to show her around the city, or rather, see the city along with her. The Akalak was not all that familiar with Syliras himself, and thus could not serve as a proper guide. The most he could do was take her to some of the few places he had seen in his short time here. To go anywhere else, they'd probably have to rely on Crow, who was a knight of Syliras. Aren would bet the man knew some of the more "interesting" places around. Although, perhaps those sorts of places were not fit for the company he would keep. "So, tell me, where would you ladies like to go first?" Since Tyuru, or Little Miss Tyuru, as Nealle had started calling her, was coming along as well, Aren didn't think it would be wise to go anywhere potentially dangerous. Between him and Crow, they could have probably taken care of one helpless girl without much difficulty, but two might be a stretch. Of course, Aren was assuming, from her looks, that Tyuru wouldn't be much help in a fight. Regardless, he would give them the choice of where they wanted to go and if they chose something problematic... well, they'd have to cross that bridge when they came to it. "I imagine Syliras has pretty much the same things you're likely to find in any other city: taverns, markets, and whorehouses." Though an educated guess, Aren couldn't fathom any proper city missing any one of these essential components.

[Wystern]

Wys chuckled at Aren's last sentence. Funny, why would he suggest going to the latter. Anyway, Wystern did know a few interesting places, shops and otherwise, but he had all the intentions of staying away from The Golden Dragon. He didn't feel like killing anyone today, and it's ridiculous how a whorehouse can attract every thief in the city. And speaking of thieves, it would be really embarrassing if his two certain companions that aren't Akalak got robbed.

"After you, Master Aren." Wys said playfully, and noticed how Aren's expression changed when he said it. That was worth finding out more about, but at another time.

“Where did you get your scar?”

Wystern looked at Tyuru like she just blurted out something really, really bad. He saw how the Eypharian tried to hide the scar; touchy subjects should be left alone. Crow at least hoped that their hostess has the wit to not spin off like a Kelvic in a forest fire.

[Nealle]

"Aren, the destination does not concern me at this point, merely the escape of this wretched room I have been confined two for six days appeals to me. My skin feels pale and I can only hope Syna has missed me as much as I, her." Of course, when the said Syna, she was referring to the sun. She hadn't left her apartment in six days, and that statement was true. Since her little meeting with the other Knight, no, the Squire Geoffrey. The boy had managed to provoke just about every emotion from the spectrum that she had, and even managed to keep her from completely melting down, which was also caused by him. It was on the topic of the scar in fact... As Aren began to lead Nealle out, Tyuru asked about her scar, and a familiar cold chill ran up her spine and spread through each of her six arms. Aren might have noticed a sudden shift due to her hand almost squeezing like she was trying to crush his palm (which was unlikely due to the obvious difference in natural strength). A second hand of hers lifted to her face in attempt to hide the scar, as if it would erase it from existence. She felt very wary of Tyuru and Aren at that moment. They both noticed the scar more than they saw her (or so she felt). It made sense though, she was no longer beautiful, the scar assured it. Their reactions assured it. Nealle did not respond to the Drykas girl, but instead continued to walk straight out into the large Stormhall corridor to wait for the others. It was fairly obvious though that she had lost just about every single desire to talk now. She felt ill. She felt like she needed to hide for another week in her sun-restricted room, almost as punishment for being punished long ago. "Maybe I should stay here. You two men can show the girl around town without me." Nealle's voice sounded almost ghost-like, faint, far-away. Like she was whispering, but was already on the other side of the hallway and only a weak echo was reaching them. "Find me brother. Please come find me, come back. I can't stay here." The Eypharian woman lowered her head as she slipped into her Arunemic tongue, mumbling to herself about her brother. He was the one that was always there for her, and he had left her here with full assumption it was the absolute safest place in Mizahar. Still, without him, Nealle felt very vulnerable. "Don't leave me alone brother..."

[Aren]

As they headed outside, Aren felt Nealle's emotional shift when Tyuru mentioned her scar. It was, in fact, hard not to. Upon this, he looked back, shooting Crow a conspicuous glance. With his free hand (the one not leading Nealle) he attempted to gesture a cut off motion, trying to silently tell him that perhaps he'd better have a talk with the human girl on the sensitive nature of the subject. Preferably when their host was out of earshot. "Nonsense. Like you said, you have been estranged from the sun for far too long." Again, Aren looked oddly to Crow, "We're going on ahead... Sir Wystern." He needed to give the knight an opportunity with Tyuru, away from Nealle. As the Akalak lead the Eypharian woman out of her home and down the quiet castle corridor, he couldn't help but notice her faint speech. "Don't you know where he is?" Aren actually understood some Arumenic, courtesy of his upbringing, and so had some idea of what she was muttering about. He didn't bother responding in same-self fashion simply because his mastery of the language wasn't near enough to even try to sound eloquent. "You're not alone." Nealle's last words didn't sit right with him. What kind of man would leave his own family alone, and in a strange city, in the kind of condition she was in? Even he could tell her problems weren't just physical, but emotional as well. Aren understood tough love; he had been the recipient of it all his life, and he didn't approve of anybody coddling anybody else, for whatever the reason... but this was something else. Even his parents, who never helped him get up from a fall, were always around to make sure he was capable of actually doing it. In Aren's view, the man should have at least been here, trying to teach his sister how to live on her own.

[Tyuru]

Despite her less-than-satisfactory skills in clairvoyance, Tyuru managed to pick up something she said was wrong. At least, the whole room’s atmosphere became dark and heavy, the shadows extending even into the hallway when Aren lead Nealle away. Exasperated and confused, Tyuru stared after them, leaning her head out of the doorway and watching their backs. Those six graceful arms still entranced her and she had to tear her gaze away to look at Wystern.

“What?” she asked, her brow furrowed, noticing the way he was looking at her – like she had said something really, really bad. “What did I do?”

It dawned on her. Several expressions came over her face then passed, giving way for the next. Realisation. Horror. Guilt. Nealle had tried covering the scar with multiple hands, but of course Tyuru had been too busy admiring the multiple, slender arms to notice what the Eypharian had been trying to hide.

“Fust,” she swore, bringing a hand to her forehead and cursing herself with several more colorful expletives that would have made her brother proud, in both Common and Pavi alike. “I’m such an idiot. How do I fix this?!”

[Wystern]

Wystern looked at Nealle, then at Aren, then Tyuru, then Nealle again, almost asking what to do. In this world the only thing he couldn't handle were crying women. He spent his childhood in one of the most anarchic places known to mankind, occasionally kills for a living, but he is still couldn't do anything about tears. Wys gently tapped Tyuru on the shoulder attracting her attention, and whispered as quietly as he could, "Don't try to fix this, nothing can. She'll be fine. Anything about scars or her closest family members are currently not conversation options." Without awaiting a reply, he quickly found his way to where Nealle kept some water and brought it over to her, asking her to drink some, in an awkward attempt to calm her down.

"So anybody wants to go to Rearing Stallion? Lunch on me." Wystern said, awkwardly trying to lighten up the situation. They needed a change of subject.

[Nealle]

Nealle followed Aren like a docile little lamb led by a leash. She felt his hand, but she didn't recognize that she was holding it, much less squeezing it with such energy. It wasn't until he mentioned her brother that she snapped out of her daze and faced the large man. She was a few steps behind him but gave a brisk little trot to catch up, moving side-by-side with the large Akalak. "I-I'm surprised you understood me." Nealle smiled softly, for some reason, being understood while not really intending to do so was a comfort to her, not to mention she had already forgotten Tyuru's question. "I know where he is. He is heading home to his wife and my nephew. He's traveling back to Ekytol to find the woman he married and the son that he's given life to. He begged me to stay in his home with his family, told me he could support me and that he would find an Eypharian that would marry me, but I was so certain I wanted to leave." Nealle grinned with the corner of her mouth as she walked next to the large man, who probably looked like a giant in comparison. He was over a full foot in height above her. "The only reason he escorted me here is because he knew I would die without his help. I couldn't convince him to stay, and I tried. I begged him to stay with his family, to let me go. But he cares for me. It broke his heart to leave me here, but I promised him that I would find someone to guide me from now on." Nealle's grasp on Aren's hand loosened until she was merely resting in his palm. "It would be unfair for me to keep him with me. He has a life, a family. I feel guilty enough for taking eight months of his life, and probably another four to get home." "You're not alone." Nealle giggled hysterically at the Akalak's remark. She found herself warming up to him, even though it appeared that he was forced to turn away from her face, she liked him. He was like her in a few ways. "Only six days ago I said the exact same thing to this Squire down by the fountain here in Syliras. He asked me what I was doing alone, I told him I wasn't. I told him I had people all around me, Rak'keli and Syna watching over me, and even you... him beside me." A brief flash tint of pink was brushed onto her cheek as she turned her head away from Aren. Either recollection of Geoffrey made her blush, or the fact she accidentally substituted Aren into her story where Geoffrey should have been. Seconds later, the warmth left her face and she turned her head back, blindly looking ahead. "Aren, may I ask you questions?"

[Aren]

Aren smiled, as he saw Nealle smile. But, as she told her brother's story, the smile faded from his lips. Perhaps he had misjudged the man. It didn't seem to be his fault that his sister was in Syliras, alone. He had tried, but she hadn't let him, for his own sake. For some reason, Aren felt like telling her that she did the right thing. That she did right by herself and her brother by convincing him to go back to his family. He couldn't actually bring himself to say it, however, realizing that it would probably bring Nealle little comfort to be told something she already knew. "Questions? Sounds like you have more than one." Aren laughed. He imagined it probably wasn't too unusual for someone to want to ask him a question or two, but they'd have to work up the courage to actually talk to him first, and that wasn't too common an occurrence. "Let me guess, one of them being: is the Rearing Stallion a whorehouse, or does it just sound like one?" The Akalak shot a mischievous grin back at Crow, who had been the one to suggest the place. In truth, Aren was trying to deflect all this "questioning him" business. He didn't want to lie, but he also didn't think he'd be quite able to truthfully answer some of the things Nealle might ask him.

[Wystern]

"Let me guess, one of them being: is the Rearing Stallion a whorehouse, or does it just sound like one?"

Wystern gave a chuckle on that one when he received a look. Looked like the two had the same idea: change the subject, find a place to start the tour. It seems they need to get the girl a guide dog, which probably set them to Tooth and Claw at some point in time. Time to get the show on the road.

"I assure you, Rearing Stallion is not a whorehouse, Aren is a witness to that. Though if you really want to go to Golden Dragon, they do have a restaurant there; but I don't particularly trust that place." He didn't mention that it was a tavern, and it had occasional fights breaking out either, but nothing bad. The more one drinks...

"Though we could find some other place to go if you don't want some food."