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[Theo Popcampio]

You're either worth my time...

Fifty-Fifth of Spring, 516 AV

It was finally done. Fifty some odd days and Captain Novenem’s Precious was nearing to dock.

The merchant ship passed through what Captain Novenem told his crew was called the Seagates, a natural passageway formed from great mountains made of age old stone. Theo hung to the bow of Precious, elbowing off men who were trying to catch a glimpse of the rushing waters flowing from the waterfall. The torrent was ripped down the cliffside, rushing from the great height of The Blue Bell River into Plunge Pool Bay. The water was blue and transitioned to a white before becoming one again with the sea. It made for a wonderful first impression.

With his eyes set of the waterfall, Theo was nearly blinded by Syna’s reflection glaring from the bright stone that was glowing at the corners of his eyes. As they went further into the bay, he turned his head to see all of his comrade’s watching wide-eyed and soft-jawed. The cliffside had been completely redone by the Akalaks. Buildings made of white stone clung to the steep elevation with streams built to be a natural part of the infrastructure. Theo didn’t have to look hard to see streams of blue wandering the narrow passages, and he could tell it was not only water but the men of the city as well.

“My people.” Yelled Loken. “Is it beautiful like I have said?” He asked this knowing that agreement was unnecessary.

Captain Novenem steered the ship towards the port of Riverfal. Gently Precious coasted in under Novenem’s watchful eye. The port itself was even made from the same hard, white stone. One wrong turn would sink a ship without metal plating.

As they pulled in and settled Novenem gave Iron Eye, the new first mate, the cue to toss the anchor aside. At the same time the gangplank was dropped and a handful of men rushed from the boat. With the help of the native Akalaks the seamen quickly got the boat tied down. She was steady.

Walking over and grabbing Theo’s shoulder, Captain Novenem told the crew in a cheer, “You guys go have fun, I got coin if you need it for a drink, but for now enjoy yourselves, we can discuss the whole of payment after I push the goods off on some craven.”

Whistling past the portside, Theo was the first to hustle down the gangplank. No one was more anxious to be off the boat. But as soon as Theo was off Precious and into the blue city he felt different. He stood there looking at the cliffside carved in white that stood much taller than he had previously seen. It was sublime. A new place, a different time, people to meet. A sense of thrill was in the air.

First thing was first, Theo needed a drink. He looked, hoping to get tips from his compatriots, but they had all gone off on their own and were already a quarter mile into the city. They were more familiar to this sort of thing than Theo was. Theo looked around the stonee of the dock. Thee was plenty of ships but hardly any people. He thought it odd. Theo would have preferred to ask a blue man but the only person close to him was a short girl.

Theo was so caught in excitement he hadn’t even waited for her gaze as he walked towards. “Can ya point me to something that’ll burn my stomach? A drink would be nice as well.” Theo said with a half smirk, looking down at the side of the girls head.

...Or you're not.

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Cyrene hated the light of day, it wasn’t the fact it was the light it was the seer brightness. It’s why she spent a good deal of her time in a forge or out in working on a project or a design. Something about being out of the warm rays of Syna sat better with her soul. Sadly though today she had to venture out onto dryland for a number of reasons. Primarily the simplistic one was that she needed a taste of something other than the food the Mischief had. Near twenty days back to back of that and she was ready to hurl.

She’d ventured into the city of river fall proper looking around trying to get her bearings using the small leaflet that Vypec had handed her a number of days prior. She held a glance down at the parchment in her hands only to feel a shadow begin to loom over her left hand side and shield her from the light of Syna. Quite possibly an Akalak. Though a genuinely nice people normally in this city but there were an odd few who gave her rather…Unwelcomed or unwanted glances. Then the figure spoke. Slightly lighter than most Akalak tones so out of sheer curiosity she turned to face the source. The long auburn hair that adorned her head was pulled back into a tight braid which sat at roughly her waist level. A small string of syna’s light snaked past him catching on the bright red of her right arm. Her eyes squinted lightly as she looked up trying to catch the strangers face.

“Sorry lad, but I’m tryin to do the same.” She spoke curtly and bluntly with a rather rough voice. She turned back down and around using the darkness to try and get a better look at the leaflet. “If you want to follow after though you’re most welcome as were looking for the same thing.” Cyrene followed the small map on the leaflet heading around the loop of the city and over the river towards a rather sturdy looking stone establishment. The blue bull. Apparently the only tavern that was mentioned on the leaflet, and quite possibly the only one in the city.

Cyrene pushed in the doors the smell of alcohol hitting her nostrils, though one particular cent filled her nose, one she’d not forget for a long time. Isurian beer. Not even awaiting a moment’s pause nor checking that the coast was clear she stepped up to the bar top and slammed a golden miza on the counter.
“Isuran Barley, two gallons.” Within seconds the jugs were handed over to her along with a pair of mugs and she found a table. Pouring herself one she paused a moment savouring the strong punch it held. And within mere seconds she’d drained the mug not even stopping to take a breath. She spoke softly with almost an air of satisfaction about her. “Been near fifty years since I’ve even smelled that.” A soft smile crept over her lips. Something rare for her Isurian form. At least outside of a forge. Hopefully the man from the docks had followed after her, if so she’d offer him a seat at the table with her. She’d wait for him to introduce himself and do nothing but drink. Savouring the flavour of something she’d not had in a long time.

[Theo Popcampio]

You're either worth my time...

Theo looked over the Isurian's shoulder as she hid from the light in the shade. He could clearly see that it was a crude map of some form in the daylight, and it was strange to see someone shift to darkness when trying to read something.

She had a clean, oval face with a soft jaw and a straight nose that looked like a button at its end. Theo could see from the side of her face that she had full lips. He liked that. Syliran women had small dull lips with mostly plain faces to boot. As she looked up at Theo he took in her dark eyes and a well kept brow, which was a shocking because he expected a woman coming off a ship to be barbarous. Her strong figure indicated she was self reliant, which intrigued Theo. But most of all Theo wanted to know why she was so short and who she had to piss off to get arm so badly sunburnt.

She spoke with a coarse accent reminiscent of the sea itself and talked in a matter-of-fact sort of way, which made her all the more exciting to Theo. There was always fun for Theo when he could rattle someones cage. For now, he'd bite his tongue, getting drunk was the most important thing in this moment.

He followed her down the way, but not before he lagged behind to admire her figure. Ever the gentlemen, Theo caught up in a moment's time. He'd let her guide him while he enjoyed the sites. For the time being it would be good to get antiquated, so the one-time-squire was finally not jabbering for a change.

Riverfall was bright as Syna herself. Light bounced from every rooftop of the carved white stone. There were blue men, each of them larger than Theo himself. They'll be an interesting scrap. They had dark eyes and mohawks with one side of their head shaved. They wore leather and metal armbands with leather tunics, some more rugged than others. Theo scoffed when he first noticed their tight leather pants, but as he saw it more often he thought about conforming. I mean, I would fill them out nicely.One of the first things he noted was that there were almost no women in the streets. Theo would count this girl as a blessing for the time being.

The two of them walked up the rounded footstep together and passed through a pair of heavy wooden doors. The place was beginning to get busy, Theo could see, and the idea of what could happen among the blue men excited him. He had taken them all for sober stiffs, but the bars population told him something different: There was much he did not know of these people.

The girl herself took control and ordered them a pair of mugs and two gallons of beer. Theo did not need the invitation to sit with her, the implication was there. Theo poured himself a beer. She was savoring the taste, Theo could see on her face, but then she drained a mug. Theo couldn't of been more impressed. Theo did not care much for beer himself, and so he sloshed his mug down. It was bitter anyway, not to his taste, but it was better than the piss ale of Precious.

"I'm Theo," he said as they both finished their mugs. He was shocked to hear that she was as old as she said. "And I don't appreciate being lied to," Theo paused as he stared at her straight before giving off a half smile, "you can't be a day past twenty." He filled up both their mugs and nudged hers across the table.

She had a pleasantly exotic look. "Where do you fair from, miss? I've never seen a woman like yourself." He nearly stuttered, attempting to be charming so quickly felt queer to Theo, but he had intentions. "Hey, tell you what, why don't we get some fun out of this? I bet I can finish my half of the next gallon before you do. I wager my pride and manhood on it. You win you get to... I'll do whatever you want, deal?"

...Or you're not.

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Cyrene slammed the edge of her mug on the table. Her eyes closed a brief moment as she took a deep breath to clear her head a little. The smell of the alcohol lingering in the back of her throat. As she exhaled through her nose she heard the person who’d tailed her speak. Theo was his name and he didn’t appreciate being lied too? What had she…There it was. Was it really so hard to believe her age?

“Thing is, I’m an Isur…We age much slower than humans do.” She hid her other side until she’d need to explain that. “Most Isur live to be about two hundred odd years of age. So sayin I haven’t tasted anything like this in near fifty years, sounds a lil less hard to believe.” She’d keep her own age secret most people didn’t really react well when she alerted them too it. “And the name is Quinlain. I’m a smith heading from Alvadas to Lhavit. Riverfall is a brief layover on that path.”

She watched the mug get slid towards her. She glanced down at it slipping her right arm’s fingers through the loop of the mug. Tempered strength and even temperament, else she’d crush the mug to powder. Fun? And a wager. He’d do whatever she wanted if he won the drinking contest he’d devised. A sure fire way to try and get her drunk. And his wager sounded like something that was going to be heavily in his favour.

She ran her thumb lightly around the edge of the mug, the barest of touches lest she start grinding the mug to a fine powder. “Ya’d wager your pride and manhood on it?” She looked him up and down. Young, very young. “Lad you can’t be more than twenty five. Don’t go wagerin something you haven’t got yet. Pride I’m willin to bet you have in spades. Manhood…Questionable. But ya’re wagerin yer dignity here. Somethin that shouldn’t be gambled away so easily.” She examined the wager evenly “And what exactly do you want if you win?” She gave a very dry look, almost like she’d heard it all before. In truth she more than justly probably had.

Half listening to what he was saying now she swirled the content of the mug. A half eye on the window as syna was starting to hang low. The light of the day was beginning to fade but there was still at least a bell maybe a half bell left. Depending on his answer she’d lift the cup. “If ya’re that intent on wagerin yer dignity, then alright. Ya’re on. However I have some rules to prevent any kinda cheatin.”

Cyrene let her cup lay on the table flat her hand away from it. A cool look towards Theo “First off. Cup away from yer hands to start, makes the initial beginning a little more excitin. Second off, ya must drink from ya cup every time, no drinkin straight from the pitcher. Thirdly and finally, if you cannot hold the alcohol down for a full five chimes after ya finish, ya ain’t won. Agreed?” A simple statement of the terms of the rules.

[Theo Popcampio]

You're either worth my time...

She was a woman of the sea and steel. Isur were foreign to Theo, but the initial belief she was human comforted his usual sentiment against other races. All the same, Theo still thought her fair, and that was what brought him to sit in the first place. Rielly was half a season away now, and he was sure she had found some other suitor. I've lost heart and hope for her.

"You're a surprise, I bet next you'll tell me you can shapeshift." Theo laughed. He had an idea of who she was and how she went about, but she still warranted a queer eye. A sailing woman, Theo was unfamiliar with her kind, most human sailors he'd met were bolstering, blundering men or Laviku's pale skinned, blue eyed people, she fit neither of those categories. Quanlin was dry and stoic, although Theo had detected a hint of an angry spirit in her, but she seemed comfortable in her own skin. Regardless, everyone had something they never gave at first, and that was always what he found most interesting.

Despite her appearance, Quanlin certainly had him on years. Still he could feel she did not know, did not understand what it was to be, what is was to face perils as Theo had. What is dignity in the thick of battle, in the heart of peril? Men who cling to their dignity are the most inhuman subjects of our world. The Syliran Knights have all the dignity in the world, and their people only know what freedom they're allowed.

"Piss on your dignity and manhood. Men use them as vague terms for something we do not understand. If losing my dignity means getting drunk under the table by a woman, well then I haven't payed attention." Theo started. "I can see dignity enough for me to hold my tongue on my philosophy. I'll respect it Quanlin. It was nice to extract your view on the matter, and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Theo hung a coy smile with squinted eyes, curious of how Quanlin would actually take to what he said.

Theo took a sip and then topped his mug off. He looked long across the short table. Between the growing rabble's yell and increasing joining of drums, it was growing harder to talk. A tall swarm of blue had been inching it's way across the bar as Syna trickled down on the horizon. Theo inched closer to Quanlin. He could see now he was almost full head above her even sitting down. "I am no stiff," Theo proclaimed, "you are fine by me, Quinlain. I have had Isurian friends," he said, thinking he lied, unable to recall the truth. He was surprised by how truthful his voice had sounded.

"I wish you wouldn't play so coy, my intent is that of a man." His fingers rolled across the table top one time. I'd want a taste of you. Surely you must get lonely trapped aboard that ship, why not with a man of similar skin, free of contract?" Theo laughed. Or you could try that Isurian arm for me, but I much prefer the first option.

I'll have my go now, Theo said as he raised the cup to his lips, he hadn't waited for her to raise hers. Perhaps Quanlin had caught on and started drinking too, Theo couldn't see from underneath his mug; hopefully she hadn't. The ale slid down rather smooth. It was a strong brew, but compared to the piss ale aboard Precious it tasted like honey. Gulp after gulp Theo could feel the beer sliding down his throat.

He was trying to avoid swallowing air as he guzzled the mug down. Suddenly the air was moved above his head and something brushed against Theo's hair. Then there was a smash of clay against the wall. Concentration was not disturbed as Theo slid down the last of his ale and slammed the mug down. Looking over his left shoulder he could see a smashed mug scattered in shards along the wall. He looked over to his right and could see a commotion unfolding, the noise of the altercation indiscernible with the growing attitude of the room.

Blue men were having a small brawl among each other. "Oh look, they're fighting," Theo said amused and smiling at the sight. He looked towards Cyrene, "Did you see who threw that?" He looked back over to see if any of them had any ill will in their eyes.

...Or you're not.