[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Kelski gets to see the history of Sunberth in stone and meet someone new.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

Moderator: Morose

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Kelski on February 7th, 2018, 3:40 am

Image
Timestamp 46th of Winter, 517 AV.

Kelski was weary. It wasn’t a tiredness of the body, but rather one of the soul. Jaren’s attentions weighed on her. And though she did everything he asked her to from drilling and stringing pearls to manufacturing ornate pieces for favors, it wasn’t enough. She missed her wings. She missed flying. The collar and the metal in her skin dragged her under and into a depression she was having a hard time shaking.

She would eat but food had no taste. More weight dropped from her already thin frame and she grew paler. The Kelvic could hardly look at the sky, even on those days that the slag heap hadn’t belched plumes of toxic smoke into the air. To Kelski, Sunberth was like living inside a giant decaying corpse with everything rotting and pus filled around her. Its wooden buildings, both those being constructed and those falling down, where like the bones of some ancient monster rising into the sky. The stink and decay of morals and the sad slow demise of hope around her was a creeping strangling noose that was even tighter than the slave collar around her neck. The Sea Eagle knew without a doubt that she would die here. She knew because what she was doing wasn’t anywhere near living. Maybe Ajakjia would be kind and let her return as a Shadow. And as one she could travel anywhere she wanted, and maybe sore in the winds again.

Jaren had worked her hard over the last three days but she’d got the projects done. Then, finally, he’d given her a day or two in order to rest. Rest? How did one do that. She curled in her little cubby in his spare room, where her pallet was and wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. She rocked herself quietly until she fell asleep with her back against the wall. Darvin found her there bells later. She was unwashed, her hair unbrushed, and there were dark circles under her eyes despite the sleep.

He plucked her out of her wardrobe beneath the stairs and without a word took her with him as he exited The Barracks. He had a pack with him, a clear indication he was going to make some rounds and do some deliveries. The Kelvic took little notice. When it was clear she’d follow him he unclamped his usual grip on her arm and left her to trudge after him. He went by where all the Sun Birth’s bathed and tossed her in unceremoniously. Then he tossed a bar of soap in with her. “Wash. Throw out your clothing. I have a dress, some shoes – I see you forgot yours – and a cloak for you once you are out.” He said. Then he watched as she quietly stripped in the bath, uncaring that his eyes were on her, and washed herself up. It didn’t matter… this is what she did. This was her life. She did something when someone told her to, and that was it. If no one told her to do anything, she did nothing. He wanted her to clean? She cleaned herself, scrubbing all her parts even in front of him and then clambering out of the now filthy bath when she felt clean.

Darvin shook his head in disgust and tossed down the clothing he’d taken from the pack. “Throw some clothes on little bird.” He said, and waited impatiently for her to do so. She dressed, put the cloak on, and slipped her feet into the short boots that actually fit for once. She'd had other things on her, the daggers, and a few coins. She put those in her pockets. She didn’t bother to comb out her hair, though he handed her one. She just looked at him and slipped it into the pocket of her new cloak… if one could consider the garment with the frayed hem new… without comment. Later… maybe.. when it dried.

Then they set out, Kelski following him but smelling much better and Darvin starting to make drops all over town. She knew some of the things he sold were drugs, but other things he delivered she had no idea about. The Kelvic tried not to be too curious. Questions were never welcome and too much information about Darvin never led down good roads. Strangely the deliveries took most of the day and caused their feet to carry them to some of the oddest places. One of the strangest was the Dust Beds. He left packets at several graves, retrieving hidden coins from places she’d never look for money within. And then they climbed the ridge above the Dust Bed and Darvin left her there.

“Take a bell, Kelski. No one is ever here. And I won’t be far. Feel the wind, walk among these Pre-Valterrian graves. Look around. I think you need to be outside far more than you are. Let the sun hit your face and get some color back in you. Here’s some Salmon Jerky…. And fresh bread. Break you fast. It’s good stuff. I think you will like it. I have one more meeting, one that I’d rather not have you see… but I won’t be far. Call out if you need me. I will hear you. But stay up here and stay quiet. Enjoy a little alone time. You look like you need it.” He said then carefully walked off after handing her a packet of something that smelled incredibly delicious to her.

She walked to the edge of the ride, looked out over the vista, and then slowly realized she was surrounded by Pre-Vaterrian ruins… graves to be exact. She knew they were pre-valterrian because the language was strange on the stone buildings. And they were craved in ways she’d never seen anywhere else. Kelski turned from the view and walked to one. She touched it carefully, a spark of interest igniting in her. This was different. This was something new and beautiful even if it came in the form of old ruins. Curiously, she began to slowly walk.
Last edited by Kelski on March 5th, 2018, 3:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
Image
They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.


Painted Sky Jewelry (The Wildlands) | Crossroads Jewelry (The Outpost)
User avatar
Kelski
Freedom is earned. Fight for it.
 
Posts: 1598
Words: 2015452
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2014, 11:08 pm
Location: The Wildlands of Sylira & The Empyreal Demesne
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 11
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Mizahar Grader (1) Trailblazer (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Sunberth Seasonal Challenge (1) Power Fork (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Carus Nothus on February 7th, 2018, 2:38 pm

Carus Nothus

Image

Sivah was kind enough to give me to the world, in return he also gave the world to me.



As Carus woke up alone in his tent he was in a very foul. He still wasn’t used to sleeping on such a hard surface as this, and as he woke all he could think about was the soft bed he used to sleep in when he was younger. He missed it less and less, but in most other towns he usually managed to sleep in a bed now and then at least. He couldn’t remember the last time he has spent this many nights in a row sleeping in the awful tent. It was getting rather cold during the nights as well, and he found himself more often than not wearing his traveling clothes to sleep in to not freeze too much. It took him a few moments before he sat up and started to rummage through his few belongings. He decided to wear his only set of nice clothes today. If he was too have any chance of not sleeping in the tent again tonight he would have to kiss some serious ass, and looking good always helped. He thought about how he would go about trying to find somewhere else to sleep tonight as he pulled of his tattered shirt and pants, feeling his body shiver in the cold. He looked down at his body and was almost surprised at what he saw. While he had always been quite muscular, his muscles were even more visible now than ever. One of the few positive things about not always having enough to eat, he mused to himself as he pulled on his good - well at least better - pair of pants. He made sure to tuck his hunting knife with it’s sheathe into the side of his pants where it wasn’t visible. He put on his green, woolen shirt and buttoned it up as he opened the tent and stepped outside.

All around him were more tents, tents as far as he could see. Carus’s mood worsened as he looked around. He had been here for a week and he hated the place, living next to beggars and other filthy people, people he had hated his whole life. Now he was close to becoming one of them. Maybe this was the real reason for his foul mood, his growing hate for the fact that he was becoming the things he had despised all along - poor and filthy, living hand to mouth. The more he thought about it, the more he realised today was not a day to go and try to beg or flirt his way too a room. Today was a day to gamble - to finally hope his luck could turn enough that he at least could buy a decent meal at an inn tonight.

He knew where to go - Tall Johnny’s. He’d learned quickly what areas to stay away from if you wanted the risk to be mugged to be minimal, and while Tall Johnny’s wasn’t a safe place to be, the area around it wasn’t visibly claimed by any gang, and you could get there from tent city just by walking thru The Sunset Quarters. As Carus put his foot in the city, he found himself longing to own a an apartment in Sunset city, and was ashamed because of it. Even though it was better than living in Tent City, it was still as far of a step down as one could go from what he was used to in his youth. But even though he felt like trash, his hatred for his own life growing stronger every day, he lifted his head up. He walked with his back straight, because even though he was slowly running out of money, he knew that every person in Sunset quarter was barely a tenth of the person he was.

The walk through the city took a few hours, and it wasn’t before midday that he stood in front of the door of Tall Johnny’s Casino. He had been there a few times before, he still hadn’t bet on anything, simply getting the lay of the land, listening to gossip and sometimes befriending someone enough to have them pay for his drinks for the evening. He slowly pushed the door open to enter the big room. It felt rather empty, only a handful of people in there. It was still too early in the day for most people to go gambling, and only the people who had no job to go to was there. That meant every person in the establishment was at least as desperate as Carus to win some money.

Carus moved to the right side of the room where the gambling was held. There were just enough people for their to be both a game of dice and a game of cards going on at the same time. He looked back and forth between the tables, trying to see if anyone had been drinking or anything else that might raise his chances of winning something today. He finally decided on Cards, having a seat at the table with four other people. A waitress came up to him and Carus quickly put on his best smile as he declined to buy anything to drink. He was there to win, not to drink. He smiled widely at the people at the table, greeting them with just enough courtesy to let them know that even though he might be playing with them, they were nothing but trash to him. In a regular town, it might have set the other players of guard, in Sunberth however, it only made people angry. He saw their angry stares at him, as the first hand was dealt out…

A few hours later he left the establishment, in a worse mood than before, and a gold miza poorer at that. He had been winning at the start, but now knowing when to stop was an obvious problem for him when he gambled, and he ended up losing all that he had won and a gold miza extra at that. The noise around the place was an awful lot louder now than when he had entered it hours earlier, and he decided he had to take a breather before taking the long walk back to his tent. He started moving in a direction that he hadn’t gone before, but where it looked like the city limits ended and all he could see was grass and snow. He walked until he exited the town and reached The Dust Bed.

It was quiet here, except for the wind blowing over the landscape. Carus felt himself doing a big inhale, the smell of the city not quite as tangible out here. He looked around, quickly noticing the grave stones scattered out here and there. He walked through the graveyard aimlessly, just wanting to be away from the city for a while before going back, trying to think of some other way than gambling to pass the time today. As he kept walking he started to see the edge of the ridge, and fascinated, moved closer. As he started to approach it, he noticed the shape of someone in the corner of his eye, walking to the side of where he was. He turned his head to look and noticed a woman walking among the ruins. He looked at her, his eyes quickly noticing that he clothes were a bit ragged, even more so than his own. His eyes were so used to look for such things by now that it happened by itself. It was the only way to see who he could convince to give him money, or who he could rob.

While he saw that she was clearly not someone he would be able to gain any money from, he still turned towards her and started to walk. While her clothes were ragged, she was rather beautiful. While Carus usually felt like he didn’t need company, he was tired of only talking to people he wanted to rob or gamble with. And certainly a conversation with a pretty girl now and then was better than only talking to the ragged people and Tall Jonny’s, or their scandalously clad waitresses who was only hoping for tips. As he got closer and it was clear she still hadn’t noticed his presence he cleared his throat loudly.

“Hello, might I ask why someone this beautiful is walking alone among these ruins?”, he asked her, his face moving to the fake smile he always used when talking to strangers.
User avatar
Carus Nothus
Player
 
Posts: 35
Words: 40312
Joined roleplay: January 24th, 2018, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Medals: 1
Donor (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Kelski on February 8th, 2018, 1:36 am

Image
Kelski never dressed like someone who had anything. Her clothing consisted of articles that had already been through two or three people before being loaned to her to wear. The only thing of wealth she wore was an inlaid slave collar and several plain steel piercings across her ears, nose and lips that were still in various stages of healing. She wandered from crypt to crypt, not knowing who rested in the stone edifices. What she was doing was admiring the work that had gone lovingly into the resting places of these long dead peoples. Carvers had given life to stone, crafting roses and columns and even little birds or butterflies here and there. The Kelvic was a tactile person, one who touched with her hands to see just as much as she used her sharp vision to look.

The stranger came upon her almost unaware. The slave had grown used to being escorted everywhere which meant she didn’t have to look out for herself. Darvin or Zuk were always there, and so she’d lost the habit of being more aware of the dangers of her surroundings and instead focused on things that distracted her from her own survival. Darvin had left her to attend a meeting, assuming the place abandoned. He’d be back, and soon, but for right now he was not here.

Kelski assumed herself alone.

The stranger’s rich voice surprised her and she turned, noting that they were the same height though he was dressed far finer. Her eyes roamed over his smile and took in his build and the darkness of his hair. Her steel grey gaze met his own eyes for a moment as she processed what she’d heard him say. “There is no beauty in Sunberth. If you see any, it is simply because your mind is so desperate and desolate of it that your brain conjures beauty from nothing just to satisfy its own needs.” The Kelvic said softly, keeping her distance from the stranger. He would be able to see her collar with its bright dog tag etched with The Sun’s Birth symbol denoting who owned her.

“I am not alone. Another is around here somewhere, just letting me have a bit of space and get out of the city for a few chimes. I needed a walk and the sun and the smell of the sea without the belching of the slag heap poisoning everything.” She added quietly, not sure when Darvin would be back. “He’s not far. “ She added, knowing it was the truth.

The man didn’t look threatening. But every woman knew that young male humans, alone, tended to be some of the most dangerous creatures out in the world. And still Kelski remained cautious. She kept moving as she had been before, touching the stonework of some of the crypts and tracing the runework and décor. It was giving her inspiration for more jewelry she could make.

“I am Kelski. Jaren Jorenson is my owner. I work as a jeweler for him. These stone structures, even as old as they are, give me ideas for things I can make in his name.” She said gently, her eyes lowered and trying not to provoke the man if he was indeed hostile. The Kelvic reached up with her talon-like nails and dragged a hand through her long wind tossed hair. She looked, for a moment, as abandoned and isolated as the graves that surrounded them. And as she quietly watched him with her steel grey eyes, she wondered why he was here, up here, so far from the city and its thrills. Here there was no drinking, no gambling, no bloodsport or gang clashes. There was no Suns Birth Law or Daggerhand Law or even child warriors that grew to fast and died too young. There was only the dead, and at that people who had been gone so long that no one even remembered that they were a people. The shadows would know… and Kelski had wanted to ask them, but not now… not with the stranger standing there. He was an unknown that was far easier to discover because he still walked among the living.
Image
They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.


Painted Sky Jewelry (The Wildlands) | Crossroads Jewelry (The Outpost)
User avatar
Kelski
Freedom is earned. Fight for it.
 
Posts: 1598
Words: 2015452
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2014, 11:08 pm
Location: The Wildlands of Sylira & The Empyreal Demesne
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 11
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Mizahar Grader (1) Trailblazer (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Sunberth Seasonal Challenge (1) Power Fork (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Carus Nothus on February 8th, 2018, 12:14 pm

Carus Nothus

Image

Sivah was kind enough to give me to the world, in return he also gave the world to me.



As soon as the woman turned to him he noticed the odd necklace she was wearing, quickly realising it wasn't really a necklace but a collar. Carus face quickly changed from a smile to a look of disapproval and dislike, which could easily be construed as something bad against the girl. Only being in Sunberth a short while, the idea of slaves was still rather new to him, although he had quickly noticed them when arriving to town. Always walking close to someone else, their master or a guard, seldom seen being alone or doing anything they themselves wanted to do. He stayed away when they came to close in the market and looked at them with pity.

While it might seem like he would feel distaste for someone as low-ranking as a slave, this was not the reason for his disapproval. While indeed, she was far beneath the likes of him, he could not find himself to condone slavery. His family had been rich, rich enough to have servants do most things for them, and while Carus certainly didn’t always treat their servants like equals, neither did he ever treat them as slaves. They were well paid and were always allowed days off to go take care of their own things. While the idea of poor, filthy beggars disgusted Carus, he knew even he would rather sink that low, than have his freedom taken away from him.

He hadn’t been in Sunberth long enough to understand the symbol though. To him it might be the mark of a well known gang or just some man who just happened to own a slave.
He listened to her soft voice as she started to speak, his forced smile back on his face again. He laughed at her words about beauty, a genuine laugh, which is something he hadn’t had in a long time. it was because the words rang so true to him.

“Indeed. Anything that isn’t falling apart onto itself or isn’t a man who just pissed himself is a sight of wonder in this place..”, he answered slowly. His smile now much more genuine than it had been before, her cynical words resonating with what he had felt since he had entered the city a few weeks ago. His eyes moved over her again, now more interested in seeing what she looked like than what kind of money she might have. There was something odd about her. When she looked into his eyes, her eyes was unlike any other he had seen before. As he looked her over he noticed her body was very pale, and while it was winter and a tan wasn’t something you saw every day in the streets either, she was paler than most folk. While he knew there were races that resemble humans, he was yet to met one himself. At least that he knew off. His eyes was still on her, his eyes trying to see if he could find anything else that was off or if she perhaps was just a very pale human that he thought of her words. Was she beautiful, or was his mind simply starting to trick him? It was hard for him to tell at this point. He had spent nights with lots of women he didn’t find beautiful at all, maybe he was simply trying hard to see it anywhere now.

He moved with her as she walked, taking in the scenery, which was quite new to him. There was writing, stones and things that resembled old buildings unlike anything he had ever seen before. In a earlier life he might have found it mildly interesting, now he found it hard to care about long lost history when he was himself trying to make it to the next day without being robbed or shived in the street of this wretched town.

He noted her words about someone being with her. Maybe it was her owner, maybe it was a buard, but Carus didn’t really care. If it was against some kind of unspoken law to talk to another man’s slave it was something he hadn’t heard of yet, and so could easily claim ignorance if the person would be angry with him when they returned, or perhaps Carus would be long gone already when they did. He looked at her as they walked. Wondering what kind of life it was, living as a slave. Always having to do someone’s bidding, always having to follow their every whim. While Carus did think it would be convenient to have a slave, and he had had servants and friends who acted like they where, he always knew it was because he had convinced them. For one reason or another, they had chosen to act like that for him, they were never forced to do it.

He walked silently next to her as she made her introduction. The name of her owner rang a bell in his mind, but he must have just heard it somewhere on the streets of the city and he couldn’t really connect it to who it was. He snorted slightly as she said she worked for him. Work involved getting paid for a job well done, not to be locked in a room and thrown a bit of food now and then. He frowned a bit at the thought.

“Well it’s lovely to meet you Kelski. I’m Carus, and while I wish I could boast with a occupation as fine as Jewelcrafting, I’m merely a drifter, for the time being anyway..” He said, doing a small bow as they kept walking. It was the kind of bow that showed that he was being kind, but at the same time clearly above her status. It was the same kind of bow he would give to any servant.
User avatar
Carus Nothus
Player
 
Posts: 35
Words: 40312
Joined roleplay: January 24th, 2018, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Medals: 1
Donor (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Kelski on February 9th, 2018, 3:53 am

Image
Kelski tried to notice everything. She’d always been like that. Her steel grey eyes were sharp and noted when he studied her collar and his face hardened in a way she found intimidating. Not knowing him or indeed having much human understanding, Kelski didn’t know if it was something she did or something that left a bitter taste in his mouth. In Sunberth it was always safest to assume the worst. And she treated the expression like it was something she did. Subtly she put more room between them with a carefully placed step or two sideways in the guise of touching something else that was intricately carved – someone’s name.

Space seemed to do the trick because his expression softened and he spoke. She had to puzzle through his words, before she truly understood. But once she did, she understood and nodded. Kelski offered him a tentative smile that revealed her blackened mouth and a set of perfect white teeth housed in gums that were as discolored as her greyish blue-black lips. Her Kelvic coloring was revealing, even if her particular animal was not. Not unlike some breeds of dogs, Kelski’s mucus membrane tissue was stained dark by nature. And it made some people uncomfortable until they realized she was not diseased but inhuman.

Her sharp eyes were an unusual color of grey, piercing and slightly fierce, while her black hair faded to white in an unusual ombre pattern that included occasional white locks buried in the black. Sometimes the Kelvic herself wondered if the gods had a tad bit of fun overpainting her. So, without smiling and without the careful application of cosmetics, she’d not pass for human ever. Today she wore no disguising color and failed to remember not to smile. Disguise was not her forte.

The man seemed inclined to follow her. And at first she didn’t notice she was actually leading him deeper into the crypts and further away from where Darvin had left her. And once she realized that Kelski tried to carefully pick a path that circled back to where she’d started. She didn’t know how to do so without being obvious so it was a long broad sweeping circle, but a circle nonetheless.

When he returned her introduction, she was surprised. He was polite and well mannered, and seemed to realize she was beneath him in rank. “It is good to meet someone new as well, Carus. May I call you that?” She asked quietly, in turn studying him. Humans were such interesting creatures when they didn’t make you too afraid. Carus hadn’t done anything to merit Kelski’s concern yet, but she was still cautious.

“May I ask why you are out here all alone? It seems strange wandering the city and then the graveyard and finally up here without a reason? My guard brought me up here because he has a meeting. He likes to make …. Things that make people feel good and sell them. They often do deals out here because no one else is here. That’s why he lets me wander a bit.” She said, reaching out and seemingly touching a shadowy portion of a crypt doorway. It was as if she caressed something invisible, even though nothing was there. And she did it while she was moving, her face pensive and thoughtful.

“You aren’t going to…. try to rob me or hurt me or something are you? I don’t have any coin on me and the collar won’t come off unless you think you can take it off….” She said carefully. “The only jewelry I have is the piercings….” She said as well, glancing around. He wouldn’t know the collar and the jewelry kept her from shifting. If they were removed, she could fly from here and never look back.

The woman kept walking, trying not to get her hopes up. It wouldn’t be her fault, would it, if Carus was determined to rid her of her finery and in the process rid her of her confinement.
Image
They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.


Painted Sky Jewelry (The Wildlands) | Crossroads Jewelry (The Outpost)
User avatar
Kelski
Freedom is earned. Fight for it.
 
Posts: 1598
Words: 2015452
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2014, 11:08 pm
Location: The Wildlands of Sylira & The Empyreal Demesne
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 11
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Mizahar Grader (1) Trailblazer (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Sunberth Seasonal Challenge (1) Power Fork (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Carus Nothus on February 9th, 2018, 12:47 pm

Carus Nothus

Image

Sivah was kind enough to give me to the world, in return he also gave the world to me.



As her lips formed into a small smile he noticed her gums, looking almost infected. If that had been all he had noticed he would have assumed her ill, but because of all other little things he had noticed he assumed she was simply not human. This definitely raised his interest in the woman, as he was mostly used to interacting with humans. He had seen a few other races of course, but not had the chance to have any meaningful interactions with them. His thoughts wandered back to his home and how he used to spend his days. He realised he probably had had the chance to interact with other races if he so wished, he simply hadn’t cared about anyone not close enough to him, disinterested in anyone he couldn’t gain anything from.

It was rather obvious the woman felt like Carus could be some sort of threat. Her movements taking herself farther away from him. He wondered to himself if this was because the nature of her race might be different, or if it was because she was a slave and therefore simply more cautious around new people. Or perhaps it was just because he was showing an interest in keeping the conversation going, which was simply because he wanted to talk to anyone that he wasn’t trying to lure or someone who wasn’t trying to lure him in one way or the other. Her clear change of direction was also a bit of a puzzling thing. Was it in the hope of him not following her, that he would keep going straight and leave her alone? He let the space between them grow a bit, still within talking distance but hopefully making her a bit more comfortable with the situation.

“Yes, you may call me Carus”, he answered as he kept on walking with her, still keeping a bit of distance. His voice sounded somehow lous and rash in comparison to her quite words, but he didn’t mind. He was now as unsure of her as she was of him it seemed. Why would she not be allowed to use his name, if he had given it to her? Was slaves supposed to treat everyone as though they were superior to them, not just their owners? For a second he wished he had learned more growing up than he had. He was well versed in some things, but other cultures was something that he never had any interest in. Other cultures meant everything from people in other cities to even getting to know how it was like to be poor in his own town. He was starting to realise how that felt at least, but how it was to be a slave was still something beyond his understanding.

“I’m just here to not have to be in town for awhile. It’s the most horrid place I’ve ever visited, why anyone would make a permanent stay here is quite beyond me. The smell, the people, it’s all so..”, he looked away thoughtfully for a while, trying to come up with a word that could explain the disgust he felt for Sunberth. He stayed quiet and just shook his head lightly, hoping his disgusted facial expression and movement would be enough to convey what he meant. He didn’t know how long he would be able to stand this place, but it was better than being put in jail or something worse. Seeing how he had broken a lot of laws in every other major city close by, and it was all too fresh for him to return unnoticed. No, he’d just have to stay here for now. He did slow his pace for a second when she mentioned her guard. So it was someone who was willing to go around and sell drugs, probably a part of a gang then. That meant he probably wouldn’t care if Carus claimed he didn’t know if he was allowed to talk to their slave or not, if the guard would think it had been a bad idea, he probably wouldn’t have a problem with beating Carus to death. He had managed to stay out of trouble so far in this town and he planned on trying to keep it that way for as long as possible. He’d have to make sure to leave her before her guard showed up again.

As she asked if he was going to rob her he snorted and let out a small laugh of derision at her comment, his eyes going up and down her body, looking at her clothing and lack of any real jewelry or anything of worth for that matter. Rob her? What would he possibly rob her off?

“Oh please dear, do I look stupid to you? If my plan was to rob someone I wouldn’t approach someone like you, who obviously doesn’t have a Miza to their name..”, he said loudly. Just because he felt sorry for her for being a slave didn’t mean he would allow her to assume anything about who he was. “..and hurting someone with no profit from it makes even less sense”, he said, frowning a bit as he kept on following her. The space between them got a bit smaller as his pace quickened a bit, too annoyed by the question to let her cautious nature decide how far away he had to keep for her to be comfortable.
User avatar
Carus Nothus
Player
 
Posts: 35
Words: 40312
Joined roleplay: January 24th, 2018, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Medals: 1
Donor (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Kelski on February 10th, 2018, 5:51 pm

Image
Kelski was glad she came right out and asked Carus what his intentions were. It was fascinating watching the reaction on his face and his snort of almost distain. She could clearly tell he considered such actions beneath him and in fact considered her beneath him in status. Kelski could have been offended by his words about her level of poverty, but she appreciated his honesty too much to take any sort of offense. It was refreshing, if she were truthful with herself. And it hit her suddenly that he wasn’t a sadist…

“I don’t mean to offend you by asking, but you don’t understand how the people here in Sunberth are. There is profit in robbing someone who obviously owns nothing for some of them. And there is profit in hurting someone who is weaker than they are. Men slit the throats of others here for nothing more than the pleasure of watching them bleed to death. There are also people here that would look at me – you called me beautiful – and want pleasure from me knowing they could take it because I am not someone who is free.” She noticed he was closing the space between them and couldn’t help but feel like he was testing her somehow. Kelski let him come close, closer than she usually would have, because she felt his words were already telling about his character.

“I can tell you are probably one of those that feel you are born of better people than I was. You probably like your targets rich – worthy of you – and your conquests from the rich woman who are always properly dressed and clean. But you will learn, Carus, that the people in this city are rotting from the inside out and no finery can disguise that. You would be more ahead listening to people like me who will tell you true and not look at you for what you can give them or do for them. And ignore the people that seemingly have so much more. Their power is stolen and fleeting. One day they are on the top, the next they are on the slag heap burning. My kind persists. We are clean inside and out, and though we are not dressed in silks and brocades, we are going to be by and large far more comfortable for you in the long run. Sleeping with a dagger under your pillow is never easy. But here, in this city, that’s what you have to do.” She said softly, wondering why she was being so bold with him.

They were among the bigger crypts now, walking in the rows that were sheltered with dust that had blown up and formed hummocks behind them. It gave the impression they were walking side by side in ten foot little pathways between the stone houses with the ridges on either side of them coming all the way up to the backs of the stones. Kelski was still touching the stonework. She was a tactile creature and loved to look with her hands along with her eyes. Her steel grey gaze made her look almost blind at times as she glanced about, adjusting her Kelvic vision for nearsightedness and farsightedness. She even had a macro vision that helped her out in her jewelcrafting.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a growling from above.

All the excellent vision in the world didn’t help her spot the immediate source of a problem that came from above and behind the stone buildings. Wolves, giant furry creatures with fangs bared, appeared from behind and atop the Crypts. There were four of them… no five… and they descended upon the pair strolling among the crypts. One, a large white wolf, seemed to be the source of the trouble, creeping close among the tops of the crypts and walking as if it had not a care in the world.

Kelski froze. She was a predator not used to be hunted by other predators. The woman had no idea what to do other than to back up and make herself smaller under one of the crypt overhangs. She did so and reached down, pulling a dagger from her boot and holding it nervously in front of her.

“Carus…. Watch out.” She said softly, eyes wide with worry as the white wolf and its various other colored companions descended.

Image
They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.


Painted Sky Jewelry (The Wildlands) | Crossroads Jewelry (The Outpost)
User avatar
Kelski
Freedom is earned. Fight for it.
 
Posts: 1598
Words: 2015452
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2014, 11:08 pm
Location: The Wildlands of Sylira & The Empyreal Demesne
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 11
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Mizahar Grader (1) Trailblazer (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Sunberth Seasonal Challenge (1) Power Fork (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Carus Nothus on February 13th, 2018, 10:26 am

Image
His facial expression turned to disgusted again at her words about the city. Without so far having first hand had any problem with the people or the gangs in the city, he knew her words to be truthful. It was easy enough to see if you watched the people in town closely. Some shying away from anyone who came close, knowing what might happen. Others walking tall, looking around like a predator, knowing that if anyone looked at them the wrong way they could kill them in a heartbeat, and no one would even bat an eye at them. Once again Carus wonder how he had ended up in such an awful place as this, where nothing seemed quite like anywhere else he had been. His face softened a bit as he lay his eyes on the woman again.

At least he had been lucky enough to meet her first, and not some crazy person. He started to understand her trepidation about him more now, and knew that he should probably act the same away around strangers here from now on. As she started talking again however, her sentence mentioning how he thought himself better than other people, Carus felt his face become more serious and firm. If she was right or not was beside the point, who was she, a slave, to talk like that about him? About people who were like him, what did she know about who he was? He felt a small wave of anger and irritation wash over him, and it was clear on his face.

“I do not think I am born of better blood than you, I know I am. And not just you..”, he made an angry sweeping gesture towards the city of Sunberth. “.. I am definitely worth more than ten of the people who call this place their home. Oh you are right, this place is rotting, rotting because their way to make money is stealing and killing, because they don’t have any manners to speak off. Because the poor aren’t just poor here, they’re savages who will kill their neighbour just for the small amount of food that they have in their crappy, ragged tent that they live in. You can see it in their eyes.”, He said, his voice raised, starting to breathe a bit heavy. Deep inside he realised that it was probably because what she was saying was right that he got so mad. Because his parents had done so much to keep their family at the top that it had ended in their deaths, had made him end up here in this place where nowhere was safe.

He calmed a bit after his outburst. The anger wasn’t directed at the woman at all and he almost felt a bit ashamed of how he had reacted. He was just so tired of how far he had fallen from the rich lifestyle he used to live. He was tired of sleeping in a ragged tent, and he knew that if something didn’t change soon, he would end up just like anyone else in this city, ready to kill for a bit of food. And that frightened him more than anything else he had felt in his entire life. He sighed loudly, wondering how he was supposed to apologize, while still making sure she understood that he did mean what he said, he just wasn’t actually angry at her. His voice softened and was lower when he spoke again.

“I am sure you are right though. Here at least. Where I come from, the rich wasn’t quite as, forceful as they seem to be here. While I am still convinced that I am superior to you in most things, I am quite sure that while you might not have the worth of ten people here like I do, you’re probably worth at least five of them. Maybe six of them on a good day”, he said, trying to lighten the mood somewhat with the joke as he gave her a small smirk as they continued walking along.

The growl came, and just the sound of it made Carus freeze and feel a shiver go down his spine. He recognised the sound at once. He had met wolved before when out hunting, but the he had always had a bow to protect himself with, and usually he could hide or send the dogs they used to bring when they went hunting to scare it away. He had never seen one really up close before, much less fought one. In his frozen state he had not yet seen them when the woman started moving backwards, and he instinctively moved back with her, his hand moving to his side as he pulled out the rather large hunting knife from its sheath. His mind spun as he quickly tried to make sense of the situation. He looked over at the woman who was with him, and she didn’t look like much of a fighter. He wasn’t much of a fighter himself most times, but he did have some basic athleticism and he knew how to use a knife. But while he had learned to use the knife by hunting, he certainly hadn’t hunted something this strong before.

The wolves had all descended now, moving in a tight knit group closer towards them as they hunched down together, the wolves had obviously spotted them. Carus tried to go through their options in his mind quickly, going through the things he’d learned while hunting. Should they try to run away? No, the wolves were definitely faster than they were, running would only make them seem like prey. Could they climb? He looked up at the overhang, seeing that there was no good footing to climb on, so that wasn’t an option either. He shivered again as he realised the only thing they could do was to try and fight them off long enough to find somewhere else to climb up. The wolves were getting closer and closer. Carus looked at them and assumed the large white one must be the leader of the pack. If he could manage to injure it or scare it away it might give the rest of them enough of a shock that they could escape.

Carus stood up, raising his knife above him, making himself look as big as possible. He knew that if a bear found you in the forest, the best way to go about it was to seem scarier than you actually are. He tried to calm his breath, not giving away how afraid he was as he made loud growling noises, looking the white wolf straight in the eye as he started to move towards the group. He probably just looked silly, but he did the only thing he could think of. The wolves did stop in their tracks, but only to growl loudly back, obviously not deterred by Carus acting. He ran forwards towards them, using his knife to take a stab at the large white wolf. The wolf, already realising what was going on as Carus started running the short distance between them had started moving to the side. Carus large knife sliced on the side of the wolf, clearly doing injury but not hindering the wolf as it snapped back. Carus reacted quick enough to get away from the bite, but in his panic to move backwards he toppled over, now laying on the ground as the wolves once again started to approach him.
User avatar
Carus Nothus
Player
 
Posts: 35
Words: 40312
Joined roleplay: January 24th, 2018, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Medals: 1
Donor (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Kelski on February 19th, 2018, 2:03 am

Image
Kelski didn’t react to danger like normal people. It was probably the predator in her that made up a good portion of her psyche, or it might have been the mistreatment she’d had as a child at the hands of her first owner. Regardless, when the wolf growled and the man in front of her drew his knife, she started to salivate. Her heart rate increased, and she dragged in a huge lung full of air. Everything came alive in her. A flush crept across her cheeks and she hissed bird-like and gave herself a shake as if she were puffing up feathers that weren’t there.

Carus’ words of a moment ago were lost to her. He was a complex person, Kelski had already decided, one that had hard lessons to learn in Sunberth, but had come from someplace vastly different from her own origins. They had nothing in common, for certain, other than at this time and place trying to stay alive.

Kelski gripped her dagger as Darvin had taught her and widened her stance for balance. She moved so the crypt was at her back and she was pressed there, dagger out, forward position thumb locked over her forefinger for a tight grip. She noted Carus’ judging gaze and gave him her fiercest look. She wasn’t human. She was an eagle. And wolves were her equal, only dwellers of the land, not of the sky.

Carus stood up, drawing attention to himself, and thus drawing the small pack’s gaze. He was approaching them? Was he crazy? The Kelvic shifted uneasily even as the stranger charged, taking a stab at the large white wolf. She cursed as Carus tried to back up and seemingly tripped, falling to the ground. Kelski tore off her cloak, wrapped it around her daggerless arm, and dodged forward trying to cover the fallen man as she held the dagger out in attack position. She was hovering over the man in a heartbeat, shouting ‘Get up!’ in a hiss as the pack approached.

Something was off about the wolves. Their stench for one thing was raw, almost rotten, and she saw open bleeding sores on their sides. One or two of them had cloudy gazes with bunched up discharge coming from the corner of their eyes. The eagle’s sharp vision picked this up. Irregular gaits, and a definite aura of desperation. This pack was sick, at least this little group.

One snapped at her, and Kelski used her well-wrapped arm to let it grab on before she slashed the dagger across its face. She wasn’t aiming for an eye in a stabbing motion which someone might expect. Instead she wanted to cut its face open across the eye closest to her. The move worked as the wolf bit at her, released, and jumped backwards.

“Get up!” She hissed again at Carus, knowing if he was down he was dead with this group. “Something’s not right with these wolves.” She wished she could throw her dagger at another, but Darvin had beaten it into her never to throw away her weapon if it was her only one. Instead, she glanced at the retreating wolves and advanced on the one that moved up to take its place. At least where Carus had fallen the wolves couldn’t surround them. They still had crypts at their back and the décor to either side kept the room restricted. The white wolf had moved back where Carus had slashed it. It was still intent on a meal but more cautious. Kelski had no delusions that it would give up. These animals were sick, and not at full strength, and she knew that made them desperate if not as strong as the five normally would be with good health. She wondered fleetingly what happened to them… and if all the wolves here were suffering.

A greyish brown lunged at her. She put her daggerless arm back up in a protective motion, and gripped her dagger tighter as she moved forward, giving Carus room to scramble up on his feet if he wanted too. The wolf growled loud, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth, and prepared to lunge. As it did so, Kelski dropped to her knee, getting lower than where it had expected to hit her full in the chest, and slashed with her dagger trying to open up its chest while avoiding or blocking its bite with her cloak-wrapped arm. The move worked beautifully, and while the cut wasn’t deep enough to open the wolves visceral cavity up, it did back off with a yelp. The remaining two milled about, uncertain, the smell of fresh blood in the air.

(all moves diced!)
Image
They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.


Painted Sky Jewelry (The Wildlands) | Crossroads Jewelry (The Outpost)
User avatar
Kelski
Freedom is earned. Fight for it.
 
Posts: 1598
Words: 2015452
Joined roleplay: July 3rd, 2014, 11:08 pm
Location: The Wildlands of Sylira & The Empyreal Demesne
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 11
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Mizahar Grader (1) Trailblazer (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Sunberth Seasonal Challenge (1) Power Fork (1)

[Dust Bed Ridge] Among The Pre-Valterrian Graves (Carus)

Postby Regime on February 19th, 2018, 3:22 pm

Image
"Th- the flowers!" a downtrodden old homeless man stuttered in a frenzied panic, pressing his hands against either side of a marble tombstone. Its aged surface far older and weathered than his mere lifetime could have seen, but as he shook at the stone almost violently, "Espalia!"

ImageHe screamed as he dislodged the ancient standing grave stone from the lose soil to cause it to fall backwards with a heavy thud. "Poor Espalia, my dear Espalia" Many in Sunberth knew this man as Grisham Grimswald, the tattered old beggar who wallowed in filth on the best of days, and ate that filth on the worst to survive. Today, his crazed mind had long since forgotten where his beloved was buried, or if she was even buried in Sunberth at all.

His madness was only broken for a moment as he heard the sounds of torment in the air of wolves combating their prey. Grisham eyes were filled with tears as he hurried deeper through Dust Bed Ridge with angered eyes. "Espalia?" He whispered to himself as he ran towards the danger to protect his beloved wife.

The homeless old man hurried with all the speed his worn legs could must to quickly rush around a crypt to witness the sight of several people fighting wolves... What he saw was altered by the ever present sweet whispers flowing through his crazed mind.

For all he saw was Carus, or rather his beloved Espalia beset upon by wolves.

Grisham ran over to where Carus laid on the ground to reach out and grab the love of his life by her;his, wrist. "Come, my love. We must flee!" The old man said with tears in his eyes as he tried to pull Carus off with him.

Carus :
For the next ten IC days, Grisham will be trying to seduce you believing you to be his beloved Espalia. You now have a dirty homeless crazy incredibly overgiven mage lover. His magical abilities will never be revealed, but he's good with a dagger. Use him to your hearts content.


Name: Grisham Grimswald
Age: 78
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Title: Resident
Skills: Auristics 30, Reimancy 56; Glyphing 51, Begging 75; Dagger 55

Info: Grisham Grimswald is one of the conundrums of Sunberth with a past that no one really knows. Driven into despair by the failed induction and the subsequent death of his wife, ‘Espalia’ into reimancy this man has been further driven insane by magical overgiving. Indeed his actions and mannerisms seem to always belie a hint of desperation and a furtive sense of unease with the rest of the world. Often people will hear him muttering lamentations under his breath about a 'poor Espalia, my dear Espalia' and randomly crying.

Often times confused as a simple unwashed beggar, the stench of his rotting clothes make few dare to approach him. And his looks as a beggar make fewer seem to wish to hang around him. Most of the Sanctela view him as a mascot of sorts, as in his madness he has never once touched his reimancy again after ‘his poor Espalia’ died. Many seeking his tutelage of Auristics and Glyphing through rumors are often turned aside by the Sanctela’s resident number of beggars and hiding thieves.

Outside of the Sanctela when he is not wandering the streets begging, Grisham has sometime been seen in the company of Raven. One of the two leaders of the Night Eyes who seem to have a watchful eye within the more clustered areas of the tent city, such as the Sanctela. Is Grisham part of their network of eyes and ears?

No one really knows.
Image
User avatar
Regime
Resist.
 
Posts: 224
Words: 137952
Joined roleplay: November 4th, 2017, 5:03 pm
Location: Sunberth
Race: Staff account
Office
Plotnotes
Medals: 1
Featured Contributor (1)

Next

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests