The Burning Man's Wake

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

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The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Dalavesta Stalinsa on March 13th, 2022, 4:24 pm

Dalavesta Stalinsa
1st Spring 522 AV - Brega's House


“Come back to bed,” Ves said, trying for a sultry purr of a voice but instead the drink made it sound more slurred and less seductive then she had hoped, “there’s still time…so much time for more fun before things fully kick into gear”

She covered the reddening of her cheeks at her failed attempts with the bottle in her hand, whiskey that was good enough not to make her cough but bad enough that it was cheap and cheerful. Her gaze drifted to the person her words had been directed to, taking in the soft, curved form of Sandy with a soft growling sound in the back of her throat. She had lucked out today, Sandy was one of the more attractive and experienced whores, her raven black hair a cascade of curls that framed divinely crafted feature, and also currently divinely gifted breasts.

“That sound was better than the words,” Sandy grinned at her from her perch on the edge of the bed, looking back at Ves as it spread across her lips slowly, purposefully tempting, “you know it’s the festival right? Don’t you want to watch the wooden man burn? Always gets the blood…roused” she turned away from Ves, who was still watching her greedily between sips of what was left in the bottle, her vision beginning to blur slightly but still able to see well enough that she knew what she wanted, now.

She shifted and kicked the flimsy sheets off of her legs, sweat glistening across her body by the candlelight, coming to sit behind her whore, straddling her and wrapping her arms around the woman hungrily. She was taller, tall enough that she could bend down slight, and around, to plant soft kisses upon her cheek, moving slowly down until she was biting at the neck. The bottle came around and pressed to Sandy’s lips and tilted until the last of what was in it was drunk and then the bottle was discarded, rolling noisily across the floor.

“No patience, Ves,” Sandy purred, better at it by far, “that was why I never suggested you stay here”

That much was true, Ves knew, she didn’t come to Brega’s for a long, slow and rosy-tinted experience like many of the men seemed to, falling in love with specific whores and wanting them time and again. No, she came to forget, to erase for a while her past and get lost in the drink, the tits and the rest. The smell that accompanied her for a while after was simply a souvenir that helped her sleep better for an extra day or two, before earning some coin and returning once more for another round when the harsh memories returned. No matter, she knew how to tempt the whore back even if her seductive skills were less perfected. If all else failed, she was the punter too and what she wanted went.

“I’m not pretty enough, but doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun,” she returned, tracing her fingertips across flesh slowly, eventually dragging nails through the sweat of their first, impatient fun, “don’t get you that often, who says I shouldn’t get my miza’s worth?” she teased.

“Hmmm, that’s better…are you not satisfied then? I don’t remember you saying anything much for a while before”

“I’m still hungry” she growled, before wrapping her arms around the woman and pulling her back, a giggle rippling out of her before they wrapped up the last of their chimes together with a second round of hedonistic oblivion.
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Dalavesta Stalinsa
Call Me 'Ves'
 
Posts: 60
Words: 61894
Joined roleplay: February 8th, 2014, 1:35 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
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The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Dalavesta Stalinsa on March 13th, 2022, 5:55 pm

Dalavesta Stalinsa
Stepping out into the corridor she was fully clothed now, her armour and weaponry in place to protect her against the harshness of the Sunberthian streets. She crept along the corridor slowly, carefully, swearing to herself quietly with every creak of the floor she made. She had seen an old friend upon the door earlier and didn’t have the heart to run into her. She doubted that their stories would be too different, given where they were, but facing them would mean confronting herself at the same time, something she was ashamed to admit she just wasn’t brave enough to follow through with, not now and definitely not whilst drunkenly swaying and covered in the smells of Brega’s House.

“Bring your ass back again Ves” the words came from right behind her and were accompanied by a pinch that made her squeal and stand up straight in time for a rich laugh from Sandy as she passed her, seeking out her next customer with a wink.

She slumped against the wall, arms holding her up as the world swum for a few moments, her cheeks burning and her heartbeat racing in her ears. Stupid! She took a few deep breaths to steady herself before rounding the corner, seeing that the one she wanted to avoid wasn’t there, before then running full on out of the door, tripping down the steps with a series of metallic sounds as her chain shirt moved and absorbed the impacts, finally rolling and skidding herself back to her feet, laughter flogging her back as she staggered as fast as she could away from Brega’s and towards other traditional places of celebration – taverns. It was a long trek, keeping her feet reasonably well, if her path was still meandering.

The streets were full of mirth and merriment, many people already passed out from drugs or drink already, so much so that sometimes when she staggered into a wall and used it for support she also had to carefully step over the bodies, bending down to grab handfuls of coin here and there to pay for her sorrows drowning, her pride long since vanished and her honour a tattered rag with so many holes it kept out no moral headwinds. Eventually she made it to the corner opposite the Pig’s Foot, leaning there to catch her breath for the last dozen or so paces without sturdy support. She clutched at the hilt of her longsword nervously, eyes darting around to see if there were any brutes willing to take advantage, that was the last thing she needed this night.

She was supposed to be celebrating. Her gaze narrowed and her jaw set as a man approached her, a predatory smile upon his lips and his hands already spread in a greeting or pulling his jacket open to show the wares he was plying for the day’s festivities. She was a drunk, but she wasn’t a drug addled one too, though she had come close a few times. She was sorely tempted, biting her lower lip and her effort not to immediately accept and use what coin she had pilfered to purchase yet another short term staving off of her sorrows.

“Hey there beautiful, looking for a good night?” the dealer crooned at her, his free hand sweeping across the various packets he offered.

“No drugs!” she managed to mumble out. Immediately knowing it wasn’t loud of strong enough to get him to leave. Sensing weakness he put his free hand upon the wall next to her head and leant in, sniffing her hair before pulling back slightly, a dark shine to his eyes.

“Sure? What about something else to have some fun with?” he chuckled, and her eyes widened, nostrils flaring as adrenaline surged to momentarily ease her inebriation.

“I said no drugs!! she shouted into his ear, knee coming up into the dealer’s groin, ruining his evening and then following up with another one just before his legs gave put and she pulled her sword, holding the edge of the blade against his throat, crouching over him spitting venom in her fear and rage, “why don’t you petchers ever listen!” her gaze was manic and he could tell she was on the verge of losing it even through his watery eyes and crippling pain. His eyes rolled in terror and he slumped forwards, passed out.

She stood over him, breathing hard and ragged breaths, before kicking him in the ribs a couple of times to stifle her anger, sheathing her sword and taking his pouch, the clinking sound music to her ears and a salve to her shaking fingers.
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Dalavesta Stalinsa
Call Me 'Ves'
 
Posts: 60
Words: 61894
Joined roleplay: February 8th, 2014, 1:35 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
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The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Dalavesta Stalinsa on March 13th, 2022, 8:37 pm

Dalavesta Stalinsa
She rushed through the door and straight to the bar, which was crowded and noisy, oppressive walls of sound clashing with her increased sobriety, the clock ticking away until she knew the long pushed back hangover would come. She wriggled and nudged her way t the front as quickly as she could and ordered two bottles of wine, enough to last most of the night if she rationed it right.

By the time she got them, though, she was shaking more obviously, and the sweat of warm sheets and scuffles had turned to those of dependency. Sliding over the pouch she had stolen from the drug dealer, with the bar maid’s promise to bring her more if she ran out of drink so she could keep the rest herself, she elbowed her way out of the throng and almost collapsed into a quiet table in the corner of the room, near the roaring hearth, in the shadows.

With shaking fingers she raised it to her mouth, taking a few attempts to get a good grip of the cork with her teeth, before tugging and spitting it out to the floor. Never bothering with a glass she drank deeply, the warm burn blossoming within and filling her belly, the slow release taking a while to set in but bringing with it that familiar, satisfied high when it came. She sighed, leant back in her chair and crossed her ankles upon the table, watching the crowd in its celebrations with a soft smile upon her lips, mixed of relief of her withdrawal and the numbing of her pains. Life, at least for now, was good. She may regret it the following day when the nightmares came once more, but for now she was safe.

As the alcohol worked on her she felt her cares melt away, her muscles relax from their tensed state and her mood go from borderline homicidal to jovial and warm. She started to laugh at those dancing and leaping here and there, turning and clutching at each other – some far more closely and suggestively than others. There were a few beauties about, she noted, but they were all occupied, and that particular need had been thoroughly provided for earlier. No, instead she had needed drink, and had found it. Now, as the bottle got towards the half-empty point and her vision began to blur slightly at the edges once more, she felt restless. There were musicians playing, fiddles and drums alongside instruments she didn’t recognise. Their tunes were jaunty and merry, energetic in tempo. Her toes started tapping the air in time, long before she realised they were doing so.

“Care for a dance?” the question came from a young lad, perhaps younger than Ves was but reasonably handsome. Her parents might had not minded had she had a tryst with a stable hand of his type, rather than the one she had chosen. Through merry vision she looked him up and down, pursed her lips and pretended to look thoughtful before she answered, it was never good to appear too easy.

“Sure…why not…one second” she raised a finger and finished the rest of the first bottle as the man’s eyebrows rose, slapping it down upon the table before taking his offered hand and letting him pull her to her feet and into the dancing lines.

She lost track of time between then moving of her feet, the twisting and bending, and the grip of flesh upon flesh. The smells of the dance floor, blanketed somewhat by the smell of drink, still arose up sweet and salty with the work of their bodies. Laughter rippled through her, so long as the amber glow of the wine lasted, and her legs could keep her stable as inebriating hooked itself ever further into her. By the end she had lost all need for a partner, instead taking to a table to perform rather poorly for the crowd, her legs terribly co-ordinated even though her feet managed to stamp upon the wood to roughly the right rhythm. She was showered with droplets of what she would later hope was drink and would seek to crawl into a hole and die at some of the lewd suggestions shouted at her that she bantered back and forth.

Eventually, though, as with all things, the ride of the high came to an need and she missed a step, teetered sideways in a painfully slow manner that gave her plenty of time to see what was going to happen, and fell hard upon her hip, scattering various mugs and flagons to pour over their owners, some of whom didn’t even know it was her that had caused it so fast did she slam to the floor.
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Dalavesta Stalinsa
Call Me 'Ves'
 
Posts: 60
Words: 61894
Joined roleplay: February 8th, 2014, 1:35 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
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The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Dalavesta Stalinsa on March 15th, 2022, 5:27 pm

Dalavesta Stalinsa
There was a pause after the thump of her impact and the sounds of her chain shirt slapping, shifting and then coming to a rest. In that silence around the tables she had been dancing upon a few knew what had happened, and were glaring down at her. There was a teetering of time, as if Tanora herself had reached in to pause things before deftly flicking a cup that was balancing upon is rim, sending it down to smash over Ves’ head, bathing her hair in stale ale. As if a spell had been removed the fighting began, everyone cursing and brawling, their moods of merriment now shifting to express their love for the Giant saviour of Sunberth with their own bloody streak.

As the scuffles broke out, sides were chosen and blood began to be spilled Ves was groaning and groggily pushing herself up, feeling the dampness of her hair and sniffing it before recoiling, which she regretted as the throbbing complaint from the back of her head rippled its annoyances to her. He groaned once more, grit her teeth with a hiss and then shook her head. She was given a few moments of grace before the tips of a pair of boots entered her blurred vision and she blinked them into focus. Tilting her head slowly upwards from looking at the floor she got a look as the wiry man with rodental features just before she felt the painful tug upon her hair, seeking to haul her up to her feet, and let out a squeal of pain.

It was only her hands gripping about the man’s wrists and the fact that she complied, a fact that sent shudders of disgust through her, that stopped her hair been torn out completely. She saw two of him through the alcohol and the pain, trying for a jab and getting the wrong one. Her reward was a backhanded slap to her face that sent her stumbling back as he let go of her hair and instead grabbed her wrist, pulling her and swinging her around into the bar behind him. She only just managed to push herself up before he smacked her forehead into int and stars blossomed, the warmth of blood dripping down the side of her face felt clearly through the overall numbness. He leant in to give her a wicked smile that he didn’t see before licking her cheek, causing her to almost vomit.

“And I thought this was going to be a bad night. Nice piece of meat you are girl, going to bring me and the lads lots of fu-“

He didn’t get more out as she sacrificed the back of her head further as he rose back up, smashing it into his nose and then turning, staggering slightly and stepping in to throw a series of rough but desperation fuelled punches. He didn’t get the chance to block them, holding his shattered nose as he was, and instead got most of them either in his ribs or gut before she dropped to one knee, largely because she had run out of energy, and brought her forearm up into what he had planned to use but would use no more. He fell to his knees and she drove her elbow into his neck before collapsing sideways and rolling off of her back, crawling through the growing detritus of bar furniture, back towards her seat in the shadowed corner.
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Dalavesta Stalinsa
Call Me 'Ves'
 
Posts: 60
Words: 61894
Joined roleplay: February 8th, 2014, 1:35 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
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The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Dalavesta Stalinsa on March 27th, 2022, 3:22 pm

Dalavesta Stalinsa
“Oh no you don’t ya little vixen!” another man growled, and she felt a pulling at her ankles.

Her fingers scratched at the wood of the floor as she vainly tried to stop her movement but only served to chip her nails and splinter her fingertips. Wriggling she managed to twist and turn herself over so that she could at least see what was happening. What she saw left her chilled from inside out. The man she had broken the nose of was not alone now, instead he had two others with him. None of them looked particularly brawny but they all had a cold, evil look in their eyes as two of them dragged her by an ankle each and the third was nearing the side door, kicking it open. Feeling cold air across her cheeks she started to frantically thrash about, grabbing out at anything to stop her movement.

“Petch…off…you…petching…vagiks” she snarled, frantic now and finally grasping around the leg of a table as she passed it, arresting her movement as the added weight pulled at her attacker’s arms and stopped them.

The all glared at her this time and stepped in to try to drag her free. As one got close enough, she grabbed his leg instead and sank her teeth into his calf, just above the boot. Biting down as hard as she could she felt blood flood her mouth and run down her chin, gagging but refusing the budge so that their plans – none of them likely good – couldn’t continue. She got a number of backhanded blows whilst the man screamed. Her hair was pulled painfully, and she had her mouth forced open but that just gave her the ability to thrash herself free once more, losing strands of broken hair before she sunk her teeth in again, this time higher up and on the inner thigh. Even with the thin wool material she felt blood flow, spurting this time and she growled ferally, biting harder and harder before white lights streaked across her vison and she slumped sideways.

“Bloody whore!”

“Aye and a whore’s fare we’ll get out of her. Come on! Leave him, he’s done for, get her outside where we can petch her stupid and slit her throat” the one by the door hissed and she felt herself being dragged again, though this time her mind was so addled by the blows that she couldn’t summon up the strength to resist.

As she felt herself getting closer to the door, colder air hitting her and chainmail shirt pooling at the small of her back and scraping a gouge out of the wood by the dull sound of it. Vaguely she was aware of the man she had bitten laying upon the floor, blood pooling there, blood she left a streak in as her hair was dragged through it. She had a certain amount of satisfaction at killing the bastard, even if all it had gotten her was one less cock in her by the sounds of their plans. Her head lolled and then pain flared as she tried to raise it up and saw she was almost out of the door. Dull fingers grasped out at the door frame, holding fast as she summoned up the strength for a scream, hoping that even in this gods forsaken city there was someone, anyone, who would stop the atrocity from happening.

Her fingers slipped after a few tugs and the door closing upon them, jarring them free with a yelp of pain as she flexed them reflexively, finding that at least they weren’t broken, even if they burned like all the slag heaps in the lands.
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Dalavesta Stalinsa
Call Me 'Ves'
 
Posts: 60
Words: 61894
Joined roleplay: February 8th, 2014, 1:35 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
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The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Dalavesta Stalinsa on March 27th, 2022, 7:28 pm

Dalavesta Stalinsa
Packed dirt came next, smearing her clothing, armour and skin with a thin coating of dust, sticking to parts of her that were either covered in a cold sweat, blood or wine. It didn’t matter too much to her as she slowly came back to herself and the horror of what was happening settled in. Thrashing one more she managed to kick out enough that she freed a foot and immediately twisted planting it down to the floor, hopping away from them as her fingers dug into the ground, finding purchase this time and tearing her free. For a few moments she was elated, hopeful. Then something clipped her shoulder, ricocheting into the side of the tavern – a stone she realised as the impact sent her staggering into the wall herself, hands flailing, the skin of her palms scuffing as they scrabbled, trying to keep her upright.

“I like me a fighter, more fun breakin’ ‘em,” one of them sneered, then barked a laugh at the end that set them both to chuckling darkly as the man stepped in to shove her up against the wall by her throat, eyes meeting hers before leaning in to run his tongue up the side of her neck and she shuddered in revulsion, “be a good girl and you’ll be left unbroken” he backhanded her and she tasted her own blood now upon her lip, split as she felt pain blossom and part of her just wanted to crawl inside herself, vanish and disappear forever.

Not as if I’m worth much these days anyway…what’s the point? Knights don’t want me, Sunberth don’t want me for nothing but by tits and ass…poor little girl in a poor little wo- her thoughts began to tug at her, self-esteem truly cracked and ready to shatter for good.

“Even better in armour too. Means they thinks they is a fighter. Takes a man to teach ‘em they ain’t ever gonna be strong like u-“

And that was the last straw of contempt, the one that hammered away at the bedrock of stubbornness Syliras all but moulded into your bones. A tiny flicker deep down of pride, despite it all, that she had known better than these thugs, had been someone and had killed people a hundred times better than them too. Anger replaced fear ad as they were gloating she glared, stinging her lip with her tongue and waiting for him to turn to look at her, to meet her eyes, before she stamped on the side of his knee, getting him to let go enough that she could get an elbow across his temple that sent him staggering. She dove at him, not caring for form and instead simply wanting to tear chunks out if him. Finger hooked into his cheeks and her legs wrapped around his waist, latching on as she pulled with all her might, nails biting into the flesh and helping her to tear it away as he screamed.

She was thrown off and she went flying, back hitting the ground hard and forcing the air from her lungs but she was free and crawling away as quickly as she could manage as the one man crumpled to his knees, clutching his ruined face before passing out. The other one, the odds now evened and having seen her act more like an animal than a woman licked his lips a few times, wondering if he should press his luck, before darting off into the shadows of Sunberth. She managed to get back to the side door of the tavern, through it and into the darkest, deepest corner away from the melee still ongoing.
There she burst into tears, sobs wracking her body as she curled into a ball and pulled body as tightly together as she could against the world.
User avatar
Dalavesta Stalinsa
Call Me 'Ves'
 
Posts: 60
Words: 61894
Joined roleplay: February 8th, 2014, 1:35 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

The Burning Man's Wake

Postby Anomaly on May 5th, 2022, 1:45 am

Image





Grade Award!

Dalavesta Stalinsa

Skills: Seduction + 1, Observation: + 1, Unarmed: + 4, Larceny: + 1, Socialization +1, Dancing: +1

Lores:Sandy: The gifted whore, Seduction: Using a sultry tone, Unarmed: How to knee a groin, Unarmed: Using your head as a weapon, Unarmed: Blocking with your arm, Unarmed: Using your teeth as a weapon, Sunberth taverns get mean around festival time, Breaking away from a attempted kidnapping

Extra: Injuries Sustained:

Slight bruising on the hip, Mild bruises/cuts to the head (Should heal in a day or two)
Split lip (Should heal within a tenday with proper treatment)
A couple of broken fingernails (Persistent injury, will need to be seen by a healer.)

Notes: Someone has taken an interest in this day’s events.

I enjoyed your thread, and look forward to seeing more of your writing in the future. Feel free to pm me with questions or concerns about your grade.
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Anomaly
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