Summer 25, 517 AV
By her second full day in Ravok, Sayana was itching to start making use of herself. It wasn’t only that she wanted to feel productive, but she wanted to fit in, to truly fit in. Whenever she had her arms out, she got suspicious stares and it made it so that she frequently covered up in a cloak, despite the heat of the summer.
With the desire to become better integrated, she sought out the Silver Sliver Tavern. After a couple of glasses of wine, she became acutely aware of the circle of empty seats surrounding her and the occasional dark glance and mutter. When she proceeded to subtly ask the barkeep about potential opportunities for information gathering, either within his establishment or for other larger organizations, she was met with a cold demeanor and a glance to her arms.
“Do you even have your citizenship papers like a good honest citizen?”
She was tempted to sway him with a good dose of hypnotism, but he wasn’t the only one in the tavern making glances at her arms, which she uncomfortably tried to cover with her cloak. If she had learned anything from Clyde, it would be a good and utter waste of magic to try charming the lot of them. Trying to maintain some scrap of dignity, she slipped out without another word.
Sayana tried the whorehouse next. She had been there before and she flirted her way into the building but the response was not much better. Although they would have happily taken her on as a client, the moment the topic of employment came up it was as though she was trying to seduce a doorknob but without having the key. Faces went blank and heads turned away, not wanting to have anything to do with her.
“With six arms, you’d be better off steering a Ravosala like a common slave.”
The insult set her teeth on edge. She was not a slave. She was someone who owned slaves. If any of them even dared set foot in Ahnatep, their positions would be so utterly reversed that… Except she was the one in Ravok. She was the foreigner.
Sayana quickly turned heel and left. She had known that the city didn’t appreciate her race. She had known it was going to be a challenge. But time after time, she found herself becoming more discouraged.
The Eypharian continued through the city on foot, winding this way and that by following the floating wooden paths and bridges of the city. A few more times she asked various merchants along the way. But her heart wasn’t in it, and neither was theirs. Who would trust a six-armed mutant to collect the secrets of their competitors, and not betray their own secrets?
She had made it almost entirely across the city without success when she finally sat down on an empty crate and gazed out over the vast lake.
“Am I not good enough for you Rhysol? Do you only care for the likes of mere humans? I once thought you were the god of freedom. To be able to do anything, without morals getting in the way. To be ambitious beyond all, without people getting in the way. To carve out a new life: chaotic, free and anything within grasp.”
“I would give anything to you Rhysol, except your city and its stupid citizens are a piece of…”
She abruptly cut off her sentence as a group of Ravosalas seamlessly glided into the dock in front of her. There was a certain degree of elegance as the people steering them assisted their passengers off and onto the dock. These were not like the simple boat she had taken the other day. These instead had a sort of refinery and grace.
And here she was, moping to Rhysol about her lot in life.
The Eypharian slowly got up and approached the dock with all the thin streamline boats. There was various chatter as the man in charged paired up customers with the boats and got them on their way. However, there were several empty boats tied up to one side and Sayana looked at them curiously.
“Excuse me, but are these boats in use or might they be up for sale?”
The portly fellow strolled up to her, and only briefly grimaced at her obvious race before covering up his error with a beaming smile. “Why certainly Madam. Here at Nicolo’s we have the finest Ravosalas in all of Ravok.”
This time it was Sayana’s turn to grimace as she recalled the insulting turn of phrase she had been subjected to when it had featured the steering of “ravosalas”. But despite this, she saw potential. As long as she could convince customers one at a time that they could trust her, or at least enough to take them on a trip through the city, then she could converse with them in a casual nature without ever raising a stir.
“How much for your wares, Mister…?”
“Nicolo. And good to meet you as well. We have your basic ravosalas at a mere 75 gold mizas. Our standard elegant ravosala at 150. And for those with true elegance and style, we have the luxury ravosala at 300 gold mizas. Now if you’d like customizations and…”
“May I see a sample of your elegant ravosala?”
“Oh yes, of course Ma’am. Right this way. Here on the left is one of our elegant models. Note the intricate carvings and the plush seating.”
Sayana looked over it with an eye of scrutiny. She very much approved of the seating, but what she noted even more so was how despite her race, she seemed to be treated well as a paying customer. Had she started off the conversation as someone looking to be hired as a ravosalaman, she suspected that it would not have gone this well.
“I will take it, on the premise that it comes with not just one pole, but two.”
“That will be an extra 5 gold mizas.” Nicolo answered swiftly without a hint of hesitation.
For a moment Sayana contemplated as to whether or not she wished to negotiate the deal further, but then decided to refrain. She had managed to come across someone willing to offer services to her, and she didn’t want to blow the opportunity. However she did add one final requirement.
“155 gold mizas if you’ll go over the basics of steering. My slave is ill today and I wish to get this ravosala back home without incident.”
There was a momentary pause of surprise. Either that the Eypharian owned a slave or that she was willing to steer the ravosala herself. But Nicolo gave a nod in agreement and the funds exchanged hands.
By her second full day in Ravok, Sayana was itching to start making use of herself. It wasn’t only that she wanted to feel productive, but she wanted to fit in, to truly fit in. Whenever she had her arms out, she got suspicious stares and it made it so that she frequently covered up in a cloak, despite the heat of the summer.
With the desire to become better integrated, she sought out the Silver Sliver Tavern. After a couple of glasses of wine, she became acutely aware of the circle of empty seats surrounding her and the occasional dark glance and mutter. When she proceeded to subtly ask the barkeep about potential opportunities for information gathering, either within his establishment or for other larger organizations, she was met with a cold demeanor and a glance to her arms.
“Do you even have your citizenship papers like a good honest citizen?”
She was tempted to sway him with a good dose of hypnotism, but he wasn’t the only one in the tavern making glances at her arms, which she uncomfortably tried to cover with her cloak. If she had learned anything from Clyde, it would be a good and utter waste of magic to try charming the lot of them. Trying to maintain some scrap of dignity, she slipped out without another word.
Sayana tried the whorehouse next. She had been there before and she flirted her way into the building but the response was not much better. Although they would have happily taken her on as a client, the moment the topic of employment came up it was as though she was trying to seduce a doorknob but without having the key. Faces went blank and heads turned away, not wanting to have anything to do with her.
“With six arms, you’d be better off steering a Ravosala like a common slave.”
The insult set her teeth on edge. She was not a slave. She was someone who owned slaves. If any of them even dared set foot in Ahnatep, their positions would be so utterly reversed that… Except she was the one in Ravok. She was the foreigner.
Sayana quickly turned heel and left. She had known that the city didn’t appreciate her race. She had known it was going to be a challenge. But time after time, she found herself becoming more discouraged.
The Eypharian continued through the city on foot, winding this way and that by following the floating wooden paths and bridges of the city. A few more times she asked various merchants along the way. But her heart wasn’t in it, and neither was theirs. Who would trust a six-armed mutant to collect the secrets of their competitors, and not betray their own secrets?
She had made it almost entirely across the city without success when she finally sat down on an empty crate and gazed out over the vast lake.
“Am I not good enough for you Rhysol? Do you only care for the likes of mere humans? I once thought you were the god of freedom. To be able to do anything, without morals getting in the way. To be ambitious beyond all, without people getting in the way. To carve out a new life: chaotic, free and anything within grasp.”
“I would give anything to you Rhysol, except your city and its stupid citizens are a piece of…”
She abruptly cut off her sentence as a group of Ravosalas seamlessly glided into the dock in front of her. There was a certain degree of elegance as the people steering them assisted their passengers off and onto the dock. These were not like the simple boat she had taken the other day. These instead had a sort of refinery and grace.
And here she was, moping to Rhysol about her lot in life.
The Eypharian slowly got up and approached the dock with all the thin streamline boats. There was various chatter as the man in charged paired up customers with the boats and got them on their way. However, there were several empty boats tied up to one side and Sayana looked at them curiously.
“Excuse me, but are these boats in use or might they be up for sale?”
The portly fellow strolled up to her, and only briefly grimaced at her obvious race before covering up his error with a beaming smile. “Why certainly Madam. Here at Nicolo’s we have the finest Ravosalas in all of Ravok.”
This time it was Sayana’s turn to grimace as she recalled the insulting turn of phrase she had been subjected to when it had featured the steering of “ravosalas”. But despite this, she saw potential. As long as she could convince customers one at a time that they could trust her, or at least enough to take them on a trip through the city, then she could converse with them in a casual nature without ever raising a stir.
“How much for your wares, Mister…?”
“Nicolo. And good to meet you as well. We have your basic ravosalas at a mere 75 gold mizas. Our standard elegant ravosala at 150. And for those with true elegance and style, we have the luxury ravosala at 300 gold mizas. Now if you’d like customizations and…”
“May I see a sample of your elegant ravosala?”
“Oh yes, of course Ma’am. Right this way. Here on the left is one of our elegant models. Note the intricate carvings and the plush seating.”
Sayana looked over it with an eye of scrutiny. She very much approved of the seating, but what she noted even more so was how despite her race, she seemed to be treated well as a paying customer. Had she started off the conversation as someone looking to be hired as a ravosalaman, she suspected that it would not have gone this well.
“I will take it, on the premise that it comes with not just one pole, but two.”
“That will be an extra 5 gold mizas.” Nicolo answered swiftly without a hint of hesitation.
For a moment Sayana contemplated as to whether or not she wished to negotiate the deal further, but then decided to refrain. She had managed to come across someone willing to offer services to her, and she didn’t want to blow the opportunity. However she did add one final requirement.
“155 gold mizas if you’ll go over the basics of steering. My slave is ill today and I wish to get this ravosala back home without incident.”
There was a momentary pause of surprise. Either that the Eypharian owned a slave or that she was willing to steer the ravosala herself. But Nicolo gave a nod in agreement and the funds exchanged hands.
Credit: Shimoje
