Hard Out Here [Konrad]

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Not found on any map, Endrykas is a large migrating tent city wherein the horseclans of Cyphrus gather to trade and exchange information. [Lore]

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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Sloane on February 9th, 2017, 9:14 am

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Sloane did her best to keep up with Hansel, but a small woman in a crowd of tall warriors and horselords didn't do the best and she was knocked back a fair few times, missing bits and pieces of what Hansel had to say. Thank the gods he wears that hat, or else I'd have lost track of him by now... She thought to herself, winding her way through the throng and back to his side once again. Once they were well within the Sapphire Clan tents, Hansel called out to one of the Drykas for directions.

A lumpy, old tent was their destination, and Sloane quirked her brow, confused as she glanced between the Drykas man and the tent. Surely not. She thought, glancing up to Hansel questioningly. "Really? It looks as though the tents are about to collapse." She watched, as once again, Hansel used his strange magic, this time apparently pulling water from the very air around them. He released it, and turned back to her. "Let's go." she agreed, slipping in through the tent flap after him.

The tent was unsurprisingly fairly dark, only partially lit in places to give a gloomy mood. Incense burners were scattered about, adding curls of smoke to the tent, and a heavy musky scent, that Sloane began to feel the effects of immediately, starting an unpleasant throb in her temples. She glanced around, eye's drifting over rolls of paper and piles of books, before settling on figures at the back of the tent. A man and woman sat, working silently, and near them, an old woman. Sloane prodded Hansel gently in the side to get his attention, and once she had it, she pointed out the old woman, tilting her face up to look at him questioningly. The elderly were rare in Endrykas, and to Sloane, the woman seemed the best bet.

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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Konrad Venger on February 9th, 2017, 4:18 pm

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Konrad had his ears open, and he'd asked around, done his preparations... but most times, he got a "they" when he asked for details. A man, a woman, a crone, and a "they". What they were like was a little thin on the ground, unless you were a fellow mage, and Konrad hadn't run into many of them.

Then again, he was an observant man. Rolling eyes, pursed lips, and indignant huffs told him a lot. Apparently the Rainshard pavilion were not known for their winning personalities.

Yes, and you're such a charmer yourself.

"Greeting to you."

Not that he didn't make the effort, of course. He spoke his Pavi slow and precise, even made the proper hand gesture when the three grown folk in the room turned to face him. The woman seemed to pin them both, eyes sharp and cold. The man was even colder, but only due to disinterest; he looked away first, doodling in some notebook. The old woman... Konrad thought, based solely on first impressions, that he liked her best.

"Blow me down." She said, wizened finger tapping the right side of her face. "That must've been a bad 'un, lad. Sorry t'see it... long as you didn't have ti coming, of course."

Konrad wasn't one for discussing, sharing, talking about or even referencing his scars, but she reminded him of... someone else. Someone gone, nearly fifteen years now. The world as he knew it had one rule for the elderly: if you survived long enough to be called that, you were either tough as Isurian metal, smart as a Sunberth fox, or both. Either way, he had to respect it.

"Yes. Was bad. No. I did not." He said, walking closer to them, hands clear and visible. The room was made fuzzy by the burning incense, and his eyes stung, but the closer he got, the more the hole in the top of the pavilion cleared things up. "But am here for new thing. Seek to know. To know from mages."

"It'll cost ya,"
the girl said, quick and sharp as a striking snake. "If you want glyphs, that's one thing. But knowledge, well, that has it's price, too."

"I do not have coin for that."
Konrad didn't hesitate or try to work around it; there was a single gold coin in his purse, and he didn't know what else he might need to use it for. So, he was technically accurate: he did not have coin for this. Which was not to say he didn't have coin at all. "But some other thing can-"

"We're not a charity, walahk."
Beautiful as an ebony sculpture, ruthless as the king who'd buy it. That was how Konrad quickly summarized Shara. The young glypher crossed her arms over her tight chest and cocked an eyebrow. "Now, if you haven't got coin, we want-"

"'We'? Who're you calling 'we'?"


All eyes went to the old woman, glaring up at the younger generation. Konrad thought for a moment he should intervene, maybe butter up the girl by favoring her words over the crone's, but... no. Better to sit back and let them go at it. Always better than way.

"Ed'yta, don't start in front-"

"Grandmother! I am your damned Grandmother, gods rend and bugger me, and not some pathetic old biddy you can tell to shut up whenever you feel like it!"


There was a titanic struggle in miniature, played out before their eyes. Through incense smoke and glare of light pouring through the top of the tent, they could see a collection of blankets and shawls rise and fall away, as if discarded by a petulant, grumbling caterpillar. What was revealed was not beautiful nor winged, though. But it still made Konrad tip his head, and hide a smile.

"Grandmother, please-"

"Oh, go back to your glyphs, girl,"
Ed'yta Raincatcher shuffled forward without a bent back or a cane to aid her. She was older than Bessy, if Konrad had to guess, but life in Endrykas had done her well. "I'll talk to the lad, keep him out of your hair. Not going to kick him out just because he wants to flap his jaw a little."

"Mistress. My thanks. You are-"


"And you-" Common words, fluent but accented, flung out at him along with a warning finger from more than a foot below his height. "Speak your own tongue. I know you're trying to get us all amenable with that Pavi of course, but you're bloody mangling it."

Konrad smiled broader. Tough broad, this one. He definitely liked her. He took off his hat and gave her a short bow, injecting some genuine Sunberth sneer into his smile that made it a real smirk. He figured he'd be just the lady to appreciate that. But already her eyes were roving beyond him, and lighted upon... something that drew surprise across her old face for the first time.

"Oh! And your woman, I take it? Fine catch, lad, fine catch."

"My... oh! Oh, no no no, this is jus' a friend a' mine. Name's-"

"Pah!"
Ed'yta plowed on without a heed, a care, or a single fear. Konrad guessed the old saying was true: come a certain age, one stopped bothering about those three things. What more could life do to you, after all? Now, as his unease grew and his face heated, she shuffled around him and gave Sloane a once over. "Oh, of course not. Not yet, anyway, eh?"

She leaned closer to the girl and gave her a wink that was utterly out of place on such wizened features.

"Don't fret yerself, girl, I'm sure he's thought of it."

"Questions!"
Konrad's outburst was like a tree crashing through the roof. Everyone looked at him for a moment and he had to work hard to cover his sudden, hateful panic with something like a glare. Like, but not quite. "Um, we... I have questions, about my wyrd, and... and I thought you could help."

Don't Make Me Repeat Myself.

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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Sloane on February 10th, 2017, 1:59 pm

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Sloane's gaze flicked to Hansel's face as the old woman mentioned his scars, curiously and somewhat anxious to hear his response. She'd never heard anyone get so close to asking about them, and Sloane herself certainly hadn't had the guts to get even close to asking. But that didn't mean she wasn't curious, and so Sloane listened eagerly for any insight that the man might give, and thought for a moment that he truly might. To her disappointment, he didn't give away much, but something was better than nothing. Sloane had assumed it'd been an injury had been earned in the course of some fight, during his time before Endrykas when he'd had an actual use for the small arsenal he carried with him. His words suggested otherwise.

Sloane was distracted from her thoughts as the younger woman piped up, snappish and sneering. She did her best to follow their conversation, despite her poor grasp of Pavi, and got the jist of it, helped along by the other womans tone and expression greatly. The grandmother butted in, and Sloane's attention flickered between the two, discreetly hiding an amused smile as she rubbed her hand across her nose, a smile that only widened as Ed'yta turned her attention on Hansel. Her smile softened sas she watched Hansel. She was used to seeing him tense and standoffish with strangers, just as he had been with herself when they'd encountered one another those first few times, and Sloane felt as though she was seeing a more sociable side of him that didn't come out very often.

Ed'yta's gaze turned to Sloane, and the young walahk was caught by surprise, snorting with amusement as the old woman mistook her for Hansel's wife. Hansel was quick to correct her, and if Sloane wasn't mistaken, he seemed to be blushing. Grinning, Sloane dipped in a little bow of greeting, enjoying the playful conversation and the opportunity to watch Hansel squirm. She laughed brightly and played along, smiling so broadly and cheekily that her eye's scrunched and her teeth showed. "Perhaps if he's lucky." She chuckled in return, eye's sliding to Hansel, playful and bright. "He's yet to impress me though, still needs a heroic deed to win my favour." The words weren't particularly accurate, as she supposed scaring off a lion with a flaming sword would be considered a heroic deed, but she stuck by her statement anyway, if only to annoy Hansel.

The man had apparently had enough of their nonsense, and called out loudly, distracting the two women from their conversation. Sloane was still amused, and enjoying herself, but she straightened from where Ed'yta and she'd been leaning conspiratorially close together, smothering her smirk and letting Hansel take back what control of the situation he could.

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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Konrad Venger on February 11th, 2017, 1:11 am

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Part of him knew that the girl was just being her usual, whimsical self. Mayhap the old woman was doing the same; playing a role and drawing a smile from a couple of unfamiliar faces. Who didn't enjoy making a fellow squirm in discomfort, after all? As long as it was all in good fun-

That's the problem. It isn't.

"Best I show ya."

Konrad raised his hands to draw his res out above them but before he could, frail but hard hands, like tree bark on an ancient limb, reached out and ghosted their fingertips across his palms.

"Ah," Ed'yta said with a wry twinkle in her eyes. "A man of elements, are ya?"

"Eleme... what?"

"What is it, then? Fire? Water? Earth? Don't get many earth ones, around here. Funny really, considering."


Konrad wasn't sure what she was talking about, but heard "fire" well enough. He nodded quickly, eagerly, and said, "Fire. See?" He drew out just a sliver of res out of the tip of his finger, like a tiny green glow worm in the gloom of the pavilion. A moment later, it was a hissing pearl of yellow flame, lighting up their faces. "But now I can do something else."

"Lemme guess."
The woman craned back her neck and regarded Konrad through a squint, which seemed to multiply her wrinkles beyond the realm of possibility. For a long handful of ticks she studied him and then said, with a snap of her finger towards him, "Water!"

"Grandmother, we're trying to-"

"Oh, shuddup and get on with your doodling!"

"How... How did you know?"


The Drykas crone turned back to the scary-looking walahk with a knowing smirk plastered across her face. Oh, surely, fifty years ago that face might have made her piss rigid like so many others, but after eight decades walking the world, seeing all the cruelty and indifference the Sea of Grass had to offer... what was one man with a petched up face? Besides, he didn't seem that bad of a sort, despite what the rumors said.

"Because it's bloody hot and everyone's thirsty, lad," she said with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "Truth be told, no-one really knows how the next progression comes on a mage, but I reckon it's about what you're mind's taking in. You've been crafting fire in a drought, and riding while trailing sweat, turning red under Syna... why wouldn't water be on your mind, mm?"

Konrad wished he had an answer for that, but found it made perfect sense. Well, no, it didn't, it made no sodding sense because it was magic and since when did that ever obey the rules of logic? But it was an answer, and as he looked down he flxed his fingers. He could still feel the ghost of her own there; as he looked and breathed he held a breath... exhaled it and drew up a tendril of res-

-before willing it into a weird, wriggling worm of transparent water. It danced before the two women for a moment, and then Konrad thought clearly, just one word-

Fall.

-and it splashed into his palm. Wet as water, cool as water, and it tasted the same.

"... wait, what is 'progression'? S'like, how yer doin', eh?"

The old woman pursed her lips and tapped them with a finger, as if she was slogging through a whole cluttered closet of memories for just once scrap.

"One moment, lad," she said, already turning and waddling over to a pile of scrolls strew in one corner of the pavilion. "Might be able to tell ya better with something you can see proper..."

Konrad watched her go, shuffling out of earshot, waiting until he could keep his fierce, furious whisper just between him and Sloane. Then he let rip.

"Are you mad?!" He glared and glowered and his words almost came with spittle flying on every syllable. Even when he'd first met her, captor ensnaring captive out in the ruins of a caravan, he hadn't seemed so angry. "Half a' this shykeheap already thinks we're petching, youse wanna give the other half a nice juciy bit a' shyke to gossip about?" When she opened her mouth to speak, he shoved a finger in her face, already knowing what she was about to say. "No, it's not a sodding joke, girl! This is serious! These bastards think you've got some walahk between your sodding legs, they won't bother shoving their cocks in there with him, will they? And that's you out on your arse!"

Later, he supposed others would have said he didn't think of wha he was saying. The damage his words could do. But that would be a lie: Konrad was always thinking before he acted. That's what kept him alive. Many a cocky and brave Sunberth lad had faced trouble with a quip and sheer balls... and the former had drowned in blood while the latter was sliced off and fed to the dogs. Those reckless fools were a lesson to him, every time, and he learned well.

So he knew what he was saying. Knew what he sounded like. But he couldn't have known just how damaging the words would be. How they could change things, break something already fragile. Not because he didn't think, but because he couldn't.

It never occurred to him that words coming from him, from a friend, would matter so much to her.

"You need to grow up," he said, voice even lower as the old Drykas careened her way back to them, something colorful and papery swaying in her hands. "You're a petching slave, girl. You don't start thinking things through, you're going to end up a dead one, an' then what petchin' good'll ya be to anyone?"

He turned from her and with some effort forced that polite mask of neautrality back ove his features; not an easy thing to do with those features. But he didnt think on her again. Didn't look back. Didn't contemplate or recall, because that was a Sunberth lesson he'd doled out, so it had to be a good one. No coddling, no varnishing words, just the brutal truth.

She could thank him later, if she wanted.

"Wassat?"

"This,"
Ed'yta said, face a little pained, since like most women most assumed were dotty, she missed nothing, and many things saddened her. Especially when it concerned the affairs of men and women. She unfurled a parchment, like a prize at ar carnival. "... is how you progress..."

Don't Make Me Repeat Myself.
Last edited by Konrad Venger on February 12th, 2017, 1:08 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Sloane on February 11th, 2017, 2:32 pm

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Sloane jerked in shock as Hansel rounded on her, his polite, interested tone morphing into a harsh snarl. Sloane's mouth dropped open, shocked into speechlessness and disbelief at his words. Why on earth does he care so much! It's my risk to take, and my consequence to bear, no matter what way this plays out! She thought, fierce anger bubbling inside her. She went to snap back, shoulders stiffening and hand shooting out to slap his pointing finger out of her face, but Hansel ploughed on.

His words stung, and Sloane took a step back, out of range of pointing fingers, arms crossing tightly, self consciously over her chest. "Gods, you almost sound eager for them to make me their walking womb." She snarled back, his every word feeling like a betrayal. If Sloane were honest, Hansel was one of the only people she trusted in Endrykas, ahead of even Whayhana, who had her family's interests to consider over her friendship with Sloane. Even aside from trust, Sloane was fond of him, enjoying his company and the odd manner in which he spoke, and her cheeky words hadn't been totally unfounded or said in jest as he'd said. His words continued, and Sloane was struck by the desire to return her own in kind, to snap and snarl and insult, but her shock and hurt left her at a loss, unable to conjure any arguments or responses to him.

Ed'yta was returning, and while before Sloane had been overwhelmed with interest and curiosity for what the old woman had to say, now she was filled with nothing but anger, hurt and humiliation. Her arms were still wrapped securely around her waist, and her eye's were cast down, away from Hansel's angry face. She was gnashing her teeth fiercely, biting into her cheek to distract herself from the sharp words and the prickle in her eyes. The woman would rather throw herself under a Strider at full gallop, than cry in front of the man, and she help back frustrated, embarrassed tears by sheer force of will.

The last thing Sloane wanted was to cause a scene in the middle of another pavilions business, and so once Hansel had turned his back she stepped away, wanting nothing more than to slip out of the tent and pretend that she wasn't hurt and humiliated. Ed'yta drew closer to them, and her eyes lingered on Sloane only a moment as the young woman left. Sloane tweaked the tent flap very gently to the side, doing her best to leave without drawing attention from those in the tent, especially not Hansel.

Once outside, Sloane walked quickly, only pausing when she'd rounded a corner and was out of sight of the muted, disfigured tent. Only then did she pause, hands rising to cover her face and letting out a long shuddering sigh.

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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Konrad Venger on February 13th, 2017, 5:08 am

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Ed'yta unfurled the parchment like a merchant at the market, all slow anticipation and slower smile, but even as Konrad drew that very comparison in his own mind, he bought into it. The pavilion was ill-lit, but he could almost feel the colors bathe his face as the full breadth of the painting was revealed. So engrossed was he, at the pictures and images and symbols, that the gnarled finger poking into his vision was almost a surprise.

"This," the crone said, pointing to the bottom corner, "was you."

Konrad studied the little picture; emphasis on "little". A child, chubby limbs and short stature, playing with a ball of water that hovered between his hands. One element, a handful of symbols... but further away, up and to the side, was a young man. Taller, leaner, juggling what looked like fire and water, waves blue lines and crackling, jagged flames.

"An' this's me now?"

"Aye, seems like."
Ed'yta nodded, as much to herself as to his question. "That's your progress."

"But how? How did I get there? I mean, how does it work?"

"No-one knows, lad,"
the crone said with an infuriating shrug. "Maybe the God of Water decided she was impressed, wanted a fine mage like your good self. Maybe the Fire God wanted to share you, try something else. Heh, not likely, though. Gods can be jealous sods, ain't they?"

Infuriating or not, Konrad had to grin back at her. A woman after his own heart.

"Or maybe it's Fate! That today, or yesterday, that's when it'd happen. Or Destiny? From the day you got your djed, or even were born, it was set in stone." Konrad's smile began to die, but Ed'yta's was immovable. It was even growing, nourished even as his waned. "Or maybe there's some other gods, who watch and judge and when you jumop through enough hoops, bish-bash-bosh, you can-"

"Youse have no idea, do ya?"

"Nope. Not really."
Infuriating. Fearless. Chuckling. "But if youse ask me? Which you are? It's practice. These tents, these hides-" she stroked the wall of the pavilion, tender and gentle, as one would for something old and much-loved "-they listen. They watch. They whisper to me about the scarred walahk that can make fire. Throw around globs of it, even make clouds like those circus clowns who spit liquor and set it alight. You practice. You train yourself, and you train your djed."

She was a mound of cloth and fabric again, broken only by a pointing finger and two glimlets buried under a scruff of dark hair.

"What happens when you train, lad? You don't just get better at one thing, what else?"

Konrad looked back to the picture as he thought. The third picture, with another dark figure bearing a beard, sharp and bristly, trio of flame and wind and water circling him.

"I... Y'get better wiv' more'n jus' what you train wit'. Y'can use other things."

"Good lad."
There was a flash of teeth in the mound. Incredible that one so old could still have all her teeth, with nary a one bearing the black or yellow that Konrad's mostly did. "And if you're smart, and patient about it? You learn more... and more... until..."

Her answer was another nod at the painting, and she could not ignore the avarious envy creeping into the young walahk's eyes as he saw the old man. Smallest of all the figures, bent and squat and bearded down to fuzzy knees, he was by far the most... colorful. Symbols and words surrounded him, but the four elements stood out. Each was as large as the child, and all dwarfed their smaller cousins on the parchment. Flame and water became inferno and wave; gust of wind and mound of dirt, instead were tornadoes and mountains. All chained to the man, symbols of his utter control.

"But you need to be careful, lad. As in all djed."

He peered over the parchment, dragging his gaze and his thoughts away from such a future. Less than a year, and two elements were open to his will. What would another year hold? Or five? Or ten? How far could his power extend? But Trevin, long-dead and departed, chimed in, along with this living crone, far from Kenash. Patience. Caution.

"Overgiving, yeah? Avoid that shyke like the plague, I was told."

"Aye, you got good advice, there. But overgiving ain't something you avoid; it's something you invite, when you go too far. A man must be prudent, hmm? Can't go acting like some bloody amateur morpher, trying to be a panther when he can't even-"

"Wos'uh 'morpher'?"


A chuckle from cracked lips, and Konrad realized just how many layers the woman was wearing. A bad sign, he tod himself, needing all that in this heat. The racking cough that followed only proved him right, or likely so, but Ed'yta forced herself onward, rattling throat instead emitting a raspy laugh after a while.

"Morphing. Never heard of that? Aye, well, Sunberth man like yourself, probably wouldn't be too familiar."

"I never-Who told yeh I was from-"

"Come now, lad."
That smile again. That chuckle. Only there was layers to it, now. Like the glimlets of her eyes, dancing and mocking him silently. "Live as long as I do, you'll see and hear most everything. Even that angry bloody accent of yours?"

Konrad resisted the urge to demand further, remembering the two other Drykas in the room. Instead he cleared his throat and decided - rather naively - that the woman needed to be kept on track. Distracted. Yes. Because that was likely.

"Morphing? Y'can... change into animals?"

"Something like that, yes. Living creatures."
Ed'yta leaned forward, warm smile crinkling her face, slipping easily into the role of a storyteller. "They will their djed into their skin... and make it what they want. Bat wings? Snake scales? Lion claws? Fish gills?"

Old though she was, her fingers were still supple, and the crack of them made Konrad's shoulders bunch for the merest tick. She chuckled and the man was a boy again, for the same brief instant. All those stories of mages and wizards from his youth, turning into great reptiles and sea monsters, giant spiders and things that didn't even have names. Was that the key to them all? The root?

"Did yeh know about-"

He spoke as he turned but when he did, no face was there to greet his words. The space Sloane had occupied was bare, just an empty cushion and the pavilion wall behind it. He'd heard her growled-out word after he spoke, but was already ignoring them as Ed'yta approached again. They were the petulant, ridiculous words of a child, and he was tired of her... endless defiance. Her pointless optimism. She needed to wake up and-

Leave?

"Wh-One tick, aye?"

"Oh, pardon me, I'm s-"


Konrad decided to skip what he was sure would be a blisteringly dry and witty response, and instead rose to his feet and strode to the door in a handful of ticks. Big bastard though he was, he could move fast when he wanted to. Maybe she'd only just left and was waiting outside. Probably just needed some air, to get away-

From you?

She wasn't waiting. She wasn't there. There were Drykas and horses and a few carts and those strange sled-things that he hadn't learned the name for, but no matter where he craned his head or rested his eyes, there was no blonde hair. Nor pale skin and bright eyes. Konrad stamped down the urge to shout out her name, in case she was hiding elsewhere, but... no. Not clever.

Sure, go around yelling her name all over the city. Sure that'll go down well with her owners.

But he did know where she would go. She had nowhere else, after all. And one foot had stirred that way, the first words of his speech to her forming in his head when-

He just didn't. His body wanted to, but his mind... well, that told him everything, didn't it? He'd been thinking with his meat too much, where she was concerned. His blood and his heart, if truth be told. Allowed the walls to be weakened, allow himself to get... familiar. It wasunwise, and now, as he stood there, Syna cast light on the truth of it.

"Better this way. F'both a' ya."

A couple of passing folk wondered what the queer-looking walah was doing talking to himself in the street, but Konrad paid them no mind. There was room enough in there for him, after all. Now he was thinking clearly. No more room for dalliances or distractions from some girl he'd forget in a season.

"The intentions were wrong but it worked out."


The man wiped his jaw and swallowed dust and dry skin. This would what she needed, too. Nowhere and no-one to run to, leaving her only with those yobs at her pavilion. But where else could she go? There she would be fed, clothed, cared for. Even have children, and didn't all women want to whelp at some point? Well, all the better: she'd have all she could want, and one day, become a real Drykas, not just a breeder.

"And again, Hansel, thank you."


There was shuffling in the pavilion. Old, crotchety tones bandying words with shrill, young ones. Gods, that he had to walk back into that... he owed the girl for that, too. Leaving him alone to deal with those bloody people. But that thing... Morphing? That tickled him, in ways he would have scoffed at a year or two ago. All the things Ed'yta had mentioned, they could be possible. And he thought as he stood and soon her eyes were in his eyes and her words were there and-

"I know you're not going to hurt me, and I'm not afraid of you, no matter what you'd like to think."


"I still want you with me."


His hand closed into a fist. The words were silenced. The memory was banished. Shoved down and burned and buried. It was for the best, for them both. He didn't need the baggage and she didn't need him around her, a sword over her head just waiting to fall.

Konrad told himself that and he believed it. He believed it all the way back into the pavilion.

Don't Make Me Repeat Myself.

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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Konrad Venger
Long is The Way and Hard
 
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Joined roleplay: November 23rd, 2015, 4:05 pm
Location: Endrykas
Race: Human, Mixed
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Hard Out Here [Konrad]

Postby Rufio on March 7th, 2017, 10:47 pm

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C A T 'S G O T Y A G R A D E


S L O A N E

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xp

Socialization +2
Rhetoric +3
Observation +3
Planning +1
Philosophy +1
Acting +1
Endurance +1


lores

Whayhana: Encouraging Sloane & Haigen’s match
Kadir: Unhappy that Sloane spends time with Konrad
Sloane: Stands up to Haigen
Reagan: Kindest of the Firelash brothers
Sloane: Plots to escape the Drykas to Riverfall
Sloane: Invites Konrad to escape with her to Riverfall
Konrad: Reimancer of fire and water
Learning of a man’s past doesn’t change the man you know now
Drykas: Known for Webbing
Elderly are rare in Drykas culture
Endrykas: The Rainshard Pavilion
Acting: Playing along with a misunderstanding
Holding back tears by sheer will
Konrad: His cruel, hurtful side


K O N R A D

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xp

Reimancy +3
Intimidation +1
Land Navigation +1
Rhetoric +3
Philosophy +1
Persuasion +1
Investigation +1
Interrogation +1


lores

Reimancy: Water
Endrykas: The Conclave
Navigation: Using the Conclave as a central landmark in Endrykas
Intimidation: Glaring with the whole body
Haigen Firelash: Sloane’s humourless Drykas suitor
Reagan Firelash: Protective of Sloane
Konrad: Knowing when to pick & when to avoid a fight
Philosophy: Death is end of the game
Persuasion: Pointing out likely consequences
Sloane: Invites Konrad to escape with her to Riverfall
The Web: Massive net of djed laid over the Sea Of Grass that the Drykas tap into to watch all of Endrykas
Konrad: Touch of paranoia about The Web
Sloane: Wise, understanding, compassionate
Konrad: Believes those that stick around him die
Emerald Clan: Known for their hunters
Diamond Clan: Known for their warriors
Topaz Clan: Keepers of Drykas law
Sapphire Clan: Known for their mages
Endrykas: The Rainshard Pavilion
Reimancers progress through the elements as they grow in skill
Over-giving: Invited by a mage who treads beyond their skills
Morphers: Will djed into their skin to change into living creatures
Konrad: Letting Sloane go, pushing her away



  
Rufio
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Joined roleplay: June 21st, 2015, 10:40 pm
Location: Endrykas
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