Riding Waters Instead Of Horses

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Riding Waters Instead Of Horses

Postby Ruvya on July 15th, 2018, 4:27 pm

30 SUMMER 518
Nicolo's Ravosalas, 9 Bells


      " Ever driven a ravosala?"
               Nicolo, of Nicolo's Ravosalas, asked, his voice matter-of-factly, yet not unkind, as he frowned at the tattooed drykas immigrant standing on the docks in front of him.
      "No."
   The drykas woman, with skin like scorching red desert sands and hair and eyes as dark as the night sky answered bluntly, forign tongue making thick her deep feminine voice.
"Ever sailed a boat, of any sort?" The portly ravosalaman probed, scrubbing his greying stubble with a rough, hard-worked hand as his eyes traveled over the drykas' lean arms and slender shoulders, looking for tell-tale signs of strength and stamina that might tell him she could endure the rigors of being a ravosalaman.
      "No," The foreigner repeated simply and there was not a hint of emotion in her as she stared right back at him with only an air of expectation for his response hanging in the air about her.
                  Nicolo soaked in the dark gaze within her impassable expression. Along with the stark black tattoos and unflappable way she stood there under his scrutiny, he admitted to himself quietly that she was a little unnerving.
   The wooden steps Nicolo was sitting on creaked as he shifted in his seat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees he clasped his hands as he wondered what to make of this foreigner's idea of becoming a ravosalaman without ever having driven a boat.
         "Do you know Ravok well?" He probed, generously. He reasoned it didn't matter too much if she was a sailor or not, if she knew how to navigate the city, the rest he could teach her, quickly if she was the learning type. He could see she was tough and wiry, used to a life of manual labour, so he could trust in her endurance.

      The drykas crossed her arms, rocking back onto her heel as she looked down the canal one way and then the other. When she returned her dark gaze to her interviewer, not a flicker danced in those eyes. The ravosalaman's heart sank a little, knowing her answer before she even parted her lips to speak. "No." She said, and Nicolo felt, rather than saw, her mirror his shrug in the tone of her voice and the faint lift of a tattooed brow. Odd aesthetic choice, he thought, for she had shaven off her eyebrows completely and instead possessed black ink dashes where her brows would have been.

         Her answer and general lack of explanation on just why she was applying to his establishment for a job with such little relevent skill both perplexed and irked him. He tossed his hands up and asked with a incredulous high to his voice. "Have you ever even been on a boat before?" But he knew the answer to that one too, and this time, he didn't want to hear it. "Let me guess," he folded his arms across his chest and tucked his chin in caricature of her, "No."

    There, something human-like stole into her expression. Was it anger? He couldn't tell for sure, as soon as it was alight it was soon shrouded under that stony mask, like the shadow of a raven gliding over a field.
         "I have strong arm, I work hard, I am fast to learn. I not, er, make you unhappy. I will work hard and make people happy, and take them to place they need, and make mizas." The drykas' shoulders lifted as she spoke, clear pride ringing in her speech.
         Nicolo sighed, baffled by her. He looked at the ravosalaman standing behind her, leaning on a wooden post and enjoying the interview with amusement dazzling his brilliant blue eyes, "Well, she got balls, eh?" He offered up with a chuckle.
         Nicolo's gaze trailed from the younger fellow's dark, shiney, slicked black hair to his well-groomed attire to his pearly teeth.
           Suave git. Nicolo affectionately dubbed him.
    The greyer-haired man shot The Suave Git a sardonic look and the charming fellow knew to take the hint and went back to cleaning his ravosala with a chuckle. When Nicolo turned back to the drykas, he had to admit he did find her tenacity endearing. Even her strange look gave her an exotic quality his punters might enjoy.
         "Well," He hesitated. Was he really doing this? He sighed, and hummed, and harred, and sighed again. "Alright. We'll try you out for a few bells an' see 'ow you get on. If you impress me, you can stay."

         Nicolo liked to see the woman's mask crack then, as a smile broke across the drykas' face. She was positively grinning from ear to ear as her hands wove a lively dance in that sign-language he heard the horse-clans spoke amidst her words, "Thank you, I will not be a regret. You will not be sorry." Nicolo waved her off with a chuckle, and led her down to an old ravosala that had been sitting idly for a while, his boots clunking against the wooden planks which served as walkways in the lake city. This old ravosala would do for a novice, any bumps or scrapes she would put into it would only add character to the collection it already had.

         He gestured to the shallow, narrow boat with its high, winding bow printed with elaborate geometrical flowers, not unlike those that generously graced the drykas' skin. "Alright, this old gal is yours, you keep her clean, and you keep her safe. You break her by reckless driving and it will come out of your pay. You scrape and bump her, you strip and paint her. Your ravosala, your responsibility. Understand?"

         For the first time since the inked foreigner had graced his dock the ravosalaman saw real joy spill into the drykas' young, angular features as she inspected the ravosala. She knelt at the edge of the dock and ran an inked hand across the faded black side of the boat, clearly admiring its craftmanship, when she beamed up at him, "It is mine?" Nicolo's heart leapt with sudden fear, "No!"
       Kuhamahama was startled by the force of his voice, until he laughed and explained hurriedly. Still mine, just yours to work. You borrow it, you take punters places, you give me the mizas, and I pay you a reasonable wage. Okay?"

     The drykas' brow furrowed, she stroked her hands across the boat a little longer as she seemed to consider this. Nicolo was erring on the brink of changing his mind about taking on a foriegner with no know-how on steering boats or even, by all accounts, people skills for that matter, when the woman stood and agreed happily, "Okay! This is good." Nicolo was caught by surprise as she outstretched a hand for him to take.
           He hesitated as doubts about handing over one of his precious ravosalas to this unskilled foreigner fluttered in his gut. Nonetheless, he cleared his throat and took her awaiting hand. He was impressed to find her grip was surprisingly strong and steady as they shook hands.
        "Welcome, Ku- Kuh- uh."
          "Kuhamahama."
       Nicolo blew a raspberry as the thick pavi syllables flurried past his ears.
"Hama," He echoed, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, which was cut short when the drykas squeezed his hand and that stony expression swept back into her inked features again as she looked intently into his face. An anxious tick past between them, as the charactaristically confident ravosalaman found himself surprisingly unnerved, before the drykas chuckled and let his hand go.
     She shrugged, a grin edging into her eyes.
        "Hama is okay."
          Nicolo cleared his throat, realising she had been teasing him, he hurried to change the conversation. "Right, let's give her a spin,
                 and see what you can do."




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Riding Waters Instead Of Horses

Postby Ruvya on July 15th, 2018, 9:48 pm

        " That's it, one foot in front of the other, just like that. Now, you see this 'ere walkway we're coming up to, I want you to push off it and turn us down there."

    Nicolo pointed ahead, but Kuhamahama was too busy trying to balance on the treacherous platform at what Nicolo had told her was the 'stern' of the narrow, incredibly agile, ravosala boat. The experienced ravoslaman was standing at what he had introduced her as the 'bow' of the ravosala. He was chuckling and grinning at the gentleman sitting comfortably on cushioned seats that had been crafted into what Nicolo called aptly the 'midship' of the ravosala.

    The gentleman was dressed in a dark tunic and pants and was gripping the sides of the ravosala tightly, concern etched into the lines of his sun-bronzed face as he gave the owner of the ravosala a dubious look. "Just getting this greenhorn trained up, don' mind the turbulence, sir, and the ride is on the house." Nicolo grinned confidently before turning his attention to his new novice. "Hama!" He called, hoping to grab the ravosalaman apprentice's attention.

    Kuhamahama's hands were slick with sweat, and her blouse was sticking to her back uncomfortably in places. It wasn't a particularly hot day. In fact, the drykas was still not used to the chillier northern climes in which Ravok was settled compared to the southern grasslands she called home. Her grip on the wooden pole—paddle, Kuhamahama wasn't sure which it was for it resembled both—was so tight it was making her hands white.

    It felt like the lake was warring with her, pulling and tugging at the pole as the ravosala careened down the canal. The drykas barely heard her employer over her own thoughts, her mind took up with memories of wild striders. Her heart thumped furiously. Surely a daughter of the drykas should be able to command control of a wooden vessel, for it was no living, breathing thing with heart and soul and desire to run free like the striders of the grasslands.

    Lo, she wrestled with the pole, feeling the lake try to wrench it from her grasp. Her biceps burned already and they had not even been out a bell. This was her first client, and this was her chance to prove to Nicolo that she could be a ravosalaman. The drykas dragged the pole out of the waters, lifting hand-over-hand like Nicolo had shown her to. When the wood lifted free from the dark lake waters Kuhamahama felt relief course into her burning arms.

    Her balance wavered as she hauled the pole over the boat to the other side where she hoped to push off the alarmingly rapid approaching walkway to turn the ravosala around the corner. As she lifted the pole, water droplets cascaded down off the pole and splashed at her feet where the moisture made the wood slick as ice.

    "Hama!" Nicolo called again.
       Kuhamahama lifted her dark gaze to take in the red-cheeked ravosalaman standing at the front of the boat. He had a pole in his thick hands too, yet he looked to handle it with such ease that it made Kuhamahama wonder at the muscle that bulged in his arms and shoulders. How steady he stood there, swaying and moving with the current of the ravosala. He was like a rider and strider—

       —he moved with the rhythm of the ravosala, not against it, as Kuhamahama found herself doing just to stay afoot.


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Riding Waters Instead Of Horses

Postby Ruvya on July 15th, 2018, 10:56 pm

 
        " Relax!" Nicolo teased her, "loosen up."

    Kuhamahama shot the portly ravosalaman a look and took a deep breath. She chose to focus on her feet, pressing them into the boat that swayed and bobbed gently under her like a living thing. She recognized how stiff her legs were, how rigid her back and shoulders from holding the pole. So she tried to relax, taking deep breaths and honing her breathing in on the weave of the boat by watching the stern up ahead, with its elegantly carved head. When she saw it rise, she bent her knees, and let the dip lengthen her legs again.

        It felt less like she was going to be bucked off this way, more like she was swaying with the ravosala's motions, as she settled into its bob and weave.

    "Good, good. Now, slow down like this." The ravosalaman swung the long pole elegantly towards the walkways that were sliding past them and let the end of the wood beam rest against a plank here, then he swung the pole ahead and sunk the end of the pole into a plank a few feet ahead there. Kuhamahama noticed the way he bent his knees to take the pressure.

    After a few ticks, the ravosala's sway began to settle and the long narrow beast was tamed under the experienced pilot's hand. Kuhamahama took a tick to gaze down at their precious cargo, the client they were carrying from the outskirts of the floating city right into the heart. The drykas found herself wondering who he was, where he was going, and why.

    The drykas didn't have long to ponder though, as the canal was ending soon, abruptly, where a building rose up on stilts out of the dark waters. It was show-time. Now she had to turn this thing and steer it around a tight corner. Kuhamahama lifted her gaze to the walkway that skirted the wooden house on stilts. It was a narrow ledge, barely a walkway. The drykas took a deep breath and heaved the pole up to tilt it towards the aft of the boat.

      Droplets of water cascaded back into the lake and the drykas couldn't help notice chunkks of ice slipping by the end of her pole as they gently approached the turn. "Steady, steady now." Nicolo encouraged gruffly and Kuhamahama realised this was all about timing. She took a few more breaths and tried to steady her thudding heart. Her lips pressed into a focused line and her brows furrowed lightly as she fixed her gaze on the point she needed to set her pole to.
    "Now, Hama, gently. Hold 'er steady."
        Kuhamahama felt a judder rack her arms as her pole connected with the wood boards. The full weight of the boat's momentum pressed into her shoulders. It was strong. The drykas' determination proved stronger. Kuhamahama locked her left arm and bowed her right, giving more slack to the direction she wished the ravosala to turn. It jarred in her shoulder socket and the drykas clenched her jaw, grunting with the effort, while she pressed her toes into the creaking stern of the ravosala for leverage.

            The lake gushed around the inward side as she gritted her teeth and thrusted her body weight against the pole, letting her shoulder take the brunt. The ravosala fought with her for a few ticks—Kuhamahama steered it right, around the corner, watching as the aft swung—and then it slunk into the adjoining canal quietly, acquiescing to its new pilot.

     Kuhamahama felt a sheer and pleasant relief sweep into her—limbs and will—as the pressure of the current relented and the ravosala drifted into the canal peacefully. A chuckle tumbled off Kuhamahama's lips and she muttered—with a fondness that took her by surprise—"Gooood ravosala."


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Riding Waters Instead Of Horses

Postby Ruvya on July 16th, 2018, 12:11 am

 
           " It's easy to gather speed—" Nicoloso had warned her before they had even left the docks. Lo, the drykas was young, and she was unafraid of speed. She had spent her childhood learning how to balance on the back of a horse as it galloped across the vast grasslands. Now though, the drykas realised that with boats she was not just contending with the dips and rolls of the grass-sea. "—it's harder to perfect the required finesse of ravosala piloting."

    Kuhamahama had not taken heed of his words before. Now, however, she realised that strength and grace were things she had yet to hone in skillful partnership.

        As the drykas caught her breath after her zealous sprint down the canal and the adrenaline-fueled twist and turn into the main channel, she took the chimes to guage her passeger curiously. Relief seemed to have swept the length of the ravosala, as the man had relaxed his grip on the sides of his seat and was now eased back gratefully into his seat. Nicolosa laughed with amusement at the other end of the boat as he lifted his steering pole to push them gently down the canal. It was a wider, which would lead them right into the heart of the city and it gave the novice the opportunity to appreciate the sights as they slipped by gently.

    Kuhamahama sucked in a breath in surprise to see many other ravosala's gliding down the canal. As her fellow ravosalamen drifted past she noticed the ways they slowed down and steered themselves onto the right of the canal. The drykas realised why when the boats came into not more than two feet of each other and she noticed the way there was not enough room for their poles if they passed on the left. The apprentice ravosalaman noted that for future.

        Nicolo was gifted with broad smiles and nods of acknowledgement from the ravosalamen as they past by, which Kuhamahama noticed and appreciated. It meant a great deal to her to work for a reputable employer in Ravok. The ravosalamen nodded amicably to her too, and she nodded back, though was concentrating too hard on skimming past the other boats without endangering a scrape to her own lovely old boat to offer a smile.

    At this gentle pace, Kuhamahama was happy to find a kind of rhythm with Nicoloso as he prompted her—"Now push, that;s it."—for her to heave her pole up and press it into the wooden walkways lining the canal to push them onward at a steady pace. Soon the drykas was pushing off and soon bobbing naturally with the weave of the ravosala. Although her arms were burning and growing heavier the longer she repeated the art of lifting and pushing, lifting and pushing the long, heavy steering pole, she found that she was enjoying herself.

        When they made it to the plaza at the heart of the lake city, Nicolo showed Kuhamahama to stow her pole along the length of the ravosala on unobtrusive hooks. The drykas sighed with relief to set the pole down—her hands felt rubbed raw and her biceps and back ached in places she didn't know existed. Then the apprentice watched as Nicolo stepped up onto the plaza's tiny dock—gracefully for such a stout man—and held out a hand to help up their passenger.

    Kuhamahama noticed how smoothly the man stepped up onto the plaza where he waited for Nicolo to hand him his bag and straightened out his clothes. He turned to Kuhamahama for the first time since stepping down into her ravosala and grinned. "Good luck, Hama, may Rhysol guide you." The drykas was stunned by this kind gesture. Though she stifled her surprise under an impassable frown as he made his way into the crowds. Nicolo watched inconspicuously, tying off the ravosala as the drykas stepped her way—warily—onto the platform.

        After a few ticks of silence between them while Kuhamahama regained her legs on the wooden docks, the portly ravosalaman chuckled and nodded, as if to himself.
                "Ay, you'll do."
            The drykas quirked an inked brow as she turned to look at her new employer, Syna's late morning warmth alighting her red-tinged features and elusive dark eyes. Nicolo's ivory tunic was sticking to his belly where he had sweated, too. This made her feel a bit better about herself and pride snuck into her face with a faint smile.
    "Ohs tratche." She muttered, waving a hand dismissively.
        "Ay?" Nicolo mused, catching her gesture and interpreting roughly what it meant with a chuckle. "Well, we got a long ways to go with you, but ay." He copied her pavi grass-sign crudely, almost gesturing something rude, his tongue clambering over the pavi roughly, which made Kuhamahama snort gently.
            "Ohs tratche..."
                  —(just another ride.)


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Riding Waters Instead Of Horses

Postby Ruvya on July 16th, 2018, 11:32 am

S E L F G R A D E
Rhetoric +1
Intimidation +1
Endurance +2
Observation +3
Acrobatics +1
Driving: Ravosala +3
Acrobatics: Balancing by bending your knees
Driving Ravosala: Handling the oar
Driving Ravosala: Push off walkways to move
Driving Ravosala: Slowing down
Driving Ravosala: Steering around corners
Intimidation: Using silence & eye-contact
Nicolo: A skilled ravosalaman
Nicolo: Owner of Ravok's ravosalas
Sailing: Stern, bow & midship
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