The Gentleman's Meeting

by **Vard Briar** on December 9th, 2014, 5:20 am

31st of Autumn, 514 AV, 15th Bell

Vard nodded attentively when Phobius explained his reasons for not going to the Underground. They were all valid, sensible arguments as to why going down into that place would be extremely inadvisable. Surprisingly, Reysin agreed with the redhead. It struck Vard as quite ominous that both a friendly boyish fellow like Phobius and a serious, maybe lethal predator like Reysin could agree on the subject. A half-broken gasp escaped him when the Dhani parted his hair to reveal his scar. At the same time, the cool and calm Vard began to ever so slightly, slip away. He squeezed his rapier and clenched his teeth, trying not to let his emotions show. This changed matters, but Vard was unsure whether they had changed his perspective in the way his friends desired. The Symenestra felt as though a hand was gripping his heart, and each pulse made the grip tighten. His attention wavered when Darkalin's voice made itself heard.

"Krovard, what was it like back home? Back in Kalinor?" Vard noted that his fellow Krova had grown somber. "I have only heard stories. Is it really thousands of feet in the air, and all as soft as silk?" Vard pursed his lips and allowed himself to remember that place of twin dreams. Wonders and nightmares. Darkalin then, in Symenos, "Do I have the honor to know?" Vard's glass case surrounding his heart cracked. The memories had been more vivid since arriving in Alvadas but now? They had been dredged from the recesses of his mind into the forefront of his consciousness. It pained the Symenestra greatly, but seeing Darkalin's expression he knew that he must tell him. Especially if he had not seen the place for himself. Licking his lips, Vard took a breath and exhaled. He tried to begin again and once more, words failed him. With a pained expression, he shook his head to Darkalin and withdrew his ocarina. "This is from home." He managed to say in their native tongue.

Vard's fingers writhed across the polished bone, covering holes and opening holes. He rapidly began with a scale of B flat intertwined with the melody. The song skipped and stepped, stuttered and fell. Tears began to gather in Vard's eyes before he had even finished the first verse. He fumbled the transition from B flat to E minor but managed to gain confidence as he continued. The chorus rose to higher than high, and his quick short breaths came more ragged by the measure. Tears ran down Vard's cheeks and flowed over his mouth, making the mouthpiece uncomfortably damp. He spurred on into the second verse and then third, first D minor then B flat again. The melody, so melancholic and solitary resolved itself in the Symenestra tapping his foot lightly. Ah, the bridge. He blew harder now, and more brokenly than before. Trios of staccato notes echoing that haunting melody in a beauty which was only intensified by its accompanying chords. Now Vard was playing a whole host of instruments in his mind. It came to him so easily, and he simply looked further inward. The lute twanged its sad cantos, and the flute's high tremolos harmonized with his own ocarina. Then came the fourth and fifth verses, inversed and melodic mirrors of their predecessors, and the song keened high but lightly. It was as though in that final decrescendo to the familiar B flat, the melody died. The song had accepted its fate and as noble as a dying swan, had glided to its final rest.

Vard lowered his ocarina, and after a moment he unsheathed his rapier. Cold steel now wrapped tight where fragile glass once held vigil and Vard's heart pumped twice as fast."I'm going to stab the bastard who cut you Reysin."

Class, is avenging one's friends.

Class is remaining true to yourself

No matter the cost

by **Phobius** on December 9th, 2014, 6:38 am

"Phobius is right."

The boy twisted around to look over at the Dhani when he spoke, amber eyes widening in surprise and simultaneous thankfulness. Though the man had already made his aversion to Pryzavard's "quest" clear, Phobius couldn't help but worry about whether or not he'd help in convincing his friend against it. After all, he was strong and fast, and knew how to fight, so he could take care of himself. Not to mention that unnerving ability of keeping calm in such an unfriendly place...out of all of the memories of that day that Phobius had tried, more than once, to get rid of, the Dhani's handling of the situation continued to stick with him. He'd never seemed to panic or become nervous, somehow able to distance himself from the whole thing, as if it were...as if it were nothing.

In some ways, Phobius found himself wishing that he could have been the same way, back then. It would have been a whole lot easier to get through the bells without the anxiety chewing away at his nerves and making his hands tremble. Would've saved him from the slight embarrassment of crying in front of the snake-man and Kuvarakh, too, which he was unhappy to even mentally bring up. And yet, in other ways, the boy was afraid of having such feelings...or, more appropriately, a lack of such feelings. He respected Mister Ekans to the utmost extent, but would readily admit that the man scared him with the ways that he'd acted.

Killing someone just didn't bother him. Maybe it was a Dhani thing...?

All of those unpleasant things aside, though, Phobius was glad that the man was supporting him. And it looked as though Pryzavard was thinking his protests over.

A few ticks later, the Symenstra suddenly seemed to tense up, as if some big bear that'd been roaming the nearby streets had spotted him, and a gasp left his lips. Frowning, Phobius followed his gaze and stared at Mister Ekans' face until the scar had made itself visible to him. How long had that been there...? Was it maybe from some of the men in the Underground? The ones who'd been friends with that bad man, Kirby...?

It wasn't as startling of a reveal to the boy, but it did make some concerns. Before he had the chance to voice any of them, however, Darkalin moved in and said some things to Pryzavard in their shared tongue, sounding curious. And instead of responding in words, the Symenstra pulled out his handy-dandy bean-shaped instrument—an ocarina!—and began to play a tune. A sad one, at that. Phobius was immediately brought back to their meeting at The Rose, and how the man had played a similarly solemn melody, but now was a lot different. His notes carried more weight, and at times it sounded like Pryzavard was struggling to continue, the disheartening tune falling from the instrument in jagged, forced pieces.

When the man began to cry, Phobius took an instinctual step toward him, worried and wanting to find a way to make him stop. He'd already seen his friend break down, once, and was loathe to let it happen again, an uncomfortable sadness already growing in his own heart. But the song continued, and the boy forced himself to do nothing until it was over.

And now Pryzavard was angry. At least, his voice sounded like it was. He wanted to go and find the person who hurt Mister Ekans, so that he could hurt him.

Within chimes, the situation had plummeted into a realm that Phobius wasn't familiar, nor entirely comfortable, with. The boy's mind was quick to pass them off as "adult problems," more than ready to admit defeat when it came to understanding the reasoning of people older than him, but Phobius wasn't ready to tune it all out, just yet.

"That's not..." the boy tentatively began, his wide-eyed gaze shifting between the Symenstra and Mister Ekans. Then he fell quiet, and seemed to convince himself that it was the best thing to do, no longer sure of what he could say or if any of it would even matter.

The day had started out so nice...promising, really. And now...

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

by **Darkalin Pinewood** on December 20th, 2014, 4:02 pm

Darkalin Pinewood

Darkalin was saddened by the song, its melancholy tone striking his very soul. He was given a part of home, and that was a debt that couldn't easily be repaid. So, when Krovard mentioned going to the underground yet again, Darkalins resolve solidified. He would go down as well, if only to protect his Krova. He looked at Mr. Ekans, a man whom Darkalin assumed was capable of defending himself. Just the fact that this silent, friend of the young Symenestra's friends, had gotten hurt in the underground was enough to make Darkalin uneasy. Phobius seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, so resiliently he had argued. But now he was quiet, a quiet that spoke of defeat.

Darkalin was ready, or as ready as he could be for an adventure into a land of crime and hatred. He was sure that Mr. Ekans knew the way. It was the only way he could have gone down there and gotten that scar. Mr. Ekans? I have a favor to ask of you." He began. One must always show trust of the honor of another. He drew a breath in preparation to ask the ultimate favor of this man. "Could you lead me and Krovard to the entrance of the underground?" He asked calmly. This could be the practice he needed, practice in honor that he would not leave without. Oh yes, he was going, one way or another....

Honor is doing what you believe is right,
because it is right.

by **Yisanareysin** on January 3rd, 2015, 4:59 am

Well, wasn't this interesting. He had displayed the scar to emphasize his point, but he seemed to have overshadowed it instead. Phobius looked a little startled, and the other spider showed no reaction, but Vard... Vard tensed in rage, seeming almost hurt. Fascinating. That was the reaction of a close nestmate, or family, not an acquaintance. Did all Symenestra befriend so easily? Or... perhaps Vard was lonelier than Rey had initially thought. Either way, that was something to keep in mind.

He was considering how to respond to Vard when the other spider spoke up, first in common, then in whatever language he has spoke before. Rey'd interest was briefly piqued at the mention of their home. Kalinor, apparently. But thousands of feet high? Sounded like a fantasy. Still, it didn't seem like this other spider had ever been before. Odd. Rey couldn't imagine never having lived in the nest, if that was in any way comparable. Still, as interesting as it sounded, he had bigger issues to deal with.

As Vard began to play, Rey took the opportunity to plan his next move. When Vard was finished with this - frankly, rather depressing - song, he was probably going to ask about the scar some more. As amusing as telling the truth might be, if only to see the look on Phobius's face, he wasn't quite done NiseMaya, and revealing the fact that she was the one who had scarred him would bring up issues of it's own. He had let Kuv and Wanda assume that Vann or one of his thugs had done it, so with Phobius here, that was the story he was going to stick to.

Ideally, his story would dissuade the spiders from going to the underground. If that was the case, perhaps he could nudge them to take a trip outside of Alvadas. He needed to stretch his coils, and it'd be a good way to get a good grasp of their abilities. Perhaps he could even get them to talk about their kind some more.

Of course, there was always the other possibility... And right on queue, Vard unsheathed his rapier.

Wonderful. He had a hero on his hands. Now this was going to be an issue. The only way he could think of to dissuade Vard was to tell him it was already dealt with. And the obstacle there was Phobius. No doubt the curious little human would ask Kuvarakh about this incident..... wait, no. He'd never mentioned Kuvarakh, had he? For all Phobius knew, Rey had gotten this in the Underground. Still, with the two in such close contact, it seemed best to keep his story straight.

If he told them he had dealt with his attacker, Phobius would likely find out, one way or another. And the last thing he needed was for the boy to be even more afraid of him. But if he didn't, he'd have these two pestering him to bring them to the underground. And frankly, he liked having a reputation of being able to handle himself.

Well, he could probably explain it away to Phobius as trying not to encourage the two spiders. That might work. He'd go with that.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that, Pryzavard." Rey smiled grimly. "He isn't going to be a problem." Technically true, since he had a hunch the Womiyu wouldn't be particularly happy with Vann and his cronies. Best leave the rest unsaid.

The other symenestra was not to be deterred, however, asking to be led to the Underground. Rey's eyes flickered over to Phobius, and he sighed. "The undergound is more dangerous than you think. It's not just criminals down there. I've seen monsters down there, yukmen, oversized animals, and worse. You might have some skill with that sword. What about Pryzavard?" He crossed his arms. "The underground is not a place to take lightly. If you do... they'll never find your bodies."

by **Vard Briar** on January 6th, 2015, 4:32 am

31st of Autumn, 514 AV

Vard relaxed his grip on his rapier and sighed. He lowered his gaze and met Reysin's eyes. Something about the Dhani still suggested that he was other, something more supernatural than ordinary. Quite like men saw Vard, only he felt less need to scamper away in Reysin's presence than some men felt to in his. However, when Vard looked into those shining eyes, he didn't let himself be distracted by the otherness of his friend. He tried his hardest to look right at him, even through him. He looked and looked, but gleaned nothing from the Dhani's placid expression. The pale and puffy scar on Reysin's face still caused Vard to rage inside, but he let the anger flow back into his glass case of a heart unsure whether steel still bound it shut. Before he could find out if his heart were still ajar, Vard sheathed his rapier and examined the corner they had arrived at. To his disbelief, Vard saw that The Withering Rose stood mere feet away, silent and solemn. A great feeling of fate swept over him, and he leapt into the street proper.

Before he could get out the words he meant to tell his friends, he saw a familiar face in the crowd. A face that resembled his. Shock poured down his spine like hot wax electrified by Reimancy. He yelled a frantic "Bye!" hoping that he didn't hear. Without further action and totally forgetting his manners, Vard ran like a frightened child. Perhaps the city sensed his distress or time sped up in his fear, either way he shot out of the Gaping Maw like a bullet and scampered off to his camp. Once he arrived, Vard crawled into the tent and hid beneath his blanket. Sleep came fitfully, when he could not remain awake a single second longer. When next he woke, Vard was alone. He had not come. Not yet.

Class is irrelevant when the past rises up from one's soul.

Class is remaining true to yourself

No matter the cost

by **Fable** on April 21st, 2015, 12:31 am

Vard

Skills

Lores

Rewards/Consequences

Notes :

Phobius

Skills

Lores

Rewards/Consequences

None

Darkalin

Skills

Lores

Rewards/Consequences

None

Notes :

Reysin

Skills

Lores

Aura: SymenestraRewards/Consequences

None

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