Always More to Learn (Reaver)

[Irriari]

Always More to Learn
Day 40, Summer, 511 AV- Evening
Closed, Reaver, please.

Irriari hadn't seen the odd woman for weeks. Reaver had said that she would be willing to talk trade anytime, and that if Irriari needed her, she would be willing to help. While the zith was in no distress, many days of sitting in the city left her wanting to learn something new, so that she could throw her energy into it.

She had spent the last few nights searching the dockside area for the blue haired girl with little luck. She had started at the Silver Sliver, but didn't have the mizas or patience to sit in a tavern for days straight, so she had ventured out and taken to exploring the streets again. Maybe tonight would be the night. She passed a worn down shop of some sort, with an ambiguous sign. It hardly mattered, as she couldn't read the faded lettering even if she had wanted to. So she moved on, hoping that Reaver hadn't already left the city for the night to retire. Further down the Nitrozian Plaza, she spotted the telltale girl, in her odd scale mail and white hood.

“Reaver... is that you?”

Now, unsure, Irriari hesitated in stepping forward. Maybe it wasn't Reaver. She held her breath, hoping to be greeted by her old acquaintance.

[Reaver]

A strange rumor came up, only once in a hushed tone when they thought he was out of earshot. "A Zith? Looking for that thing?" It was... a strange thing to overhear, with 'that thing' being met with a glance his direction. It never bodes well when anyone LOOKS for Reaver. He took new routs, new paths, and kept from his old patterns. Even so, a strange voice called out his name, female? The voice came from behind no-less. His attempts only delayed the meeting after all, perhaps she developed some skills? Or perhaps she hadn't been applying them. "And... who's asking?" Reaver turned around. The familiar Cyan wig and white mask were familiar, but the voice was not. A distinctively male voice, and a body to match, were reviled once he turned around. "Ah, the Zith..." the individual made a bow identical to the one the female character in the same attire had made before, the same 'grace' and nuances as well. "I'm glad to see the city has not taken you, I take it you have adapted well?" He stood from his bow. "Was it Ms. or Mrs. Irriari?" Perhaps the question caught her off guard, or she really doesn't intend on attacking. I suppose it doesn't hurt to stay cautious. Reaver thought to himself.

[Irriari]

Irriari was relieved when the dark figure turned around and responded to her. In the darkness, her night vision told her that the person standing a few feet away was not at all female. Suddenly, she understood and her lips flattened into a thin line of discontent. He was a nuit, like the ones she had spent nearly a season with in Sahova. She had disregarded the scent at the tavern, though many of the patrons had made a massive deal out of the odor. Few of the nuit in Sahova had smelled so bad, due to the quality of the embalming facilities, though she knew little about the actual process. Her detest of the undead race had lessened since the cataclysmic event, but she hardly trusted to race as a whole after one of the residents of the island had poisoned and tortured her.

She ignored Reaver's questions and stepped closer to him, eying him from top to bottom to make sure her initial hypothesis was correct.

“So how old are you? I hardly expected to find a nuit in Ravok of all places.”

The statement was true, and though she still wanted to learn from Reaver, she would have to make sure he wasn't a threat before she indicated her intentions. Nervously, she clenched and unclenched her fists, clicking her nails against each other. For once, they weren't poison coated, but she felt confident in her ability to be able to destroy the nuit with her claws alone.

[Reaver]

The sudden burst of varying emotions from the Zith worried Reaver greatly, he wasn't sure he could properly make his defense fast enough. Though he had armor, that helped. “So how old are you? I hardly expected to find a nuit in Ravok of all places.” The clacking claws were disheartening, Reaver thought a moment, then decided the truth might be best in this case. Even so, he inched to the water's edge as he spoke, ready to match a sudden lunge with his own attempt at swift movement. "Please don't tell, I have a habit of losing enough of my patients. No-one could trust a Nuit Doctor. A city where someone is always dead is a great place to find oneself. They hate Nuit as much as they hate the Zith, I find... They fear us both. I can always dive into the lake, should I need a body quickly. You ask how old I am, let me ask you something. What year is it?" Should Irriari answer, Reaver's answer might shock her. "I'm older."

[Irriari]

Irriari listened to his argument, not that she had ever planned to tell anyone. What good would it have gotten her? It was true though, few of the citizen's of Ravok enjoyed anything that was unlike them, as they had made abundantly clear when she frequented their shops and walked in their streets. She answered him quickly. It was 511 AV, of course. Her race had existed for a proud five hundred and eleven years, and no one in the colony was allowed to forget it. The Elders often lectured about the traits that had helped them survive for so long, and though Irriari hardly agreed with all the teachings, most had their merits.

Reaver's response shocked her, and she nearly denied it out of instinct. It took her a few seconds to grapple with the concept before she remembered that some of the nuit of Sahova had been even older, but she tended to steer clear of the aged nuit.

“Well... I can't say I trust you, but it hardly seems fair to repay your kindness at the tavern with hatred.”

She smiled slightly, then continued talking,

“The reason I sought you out, was that I wanted to learn from you. This city is driving me crazy, and you offered advice and help once, so I figured I would ask now before I drove myself mad.”

Irriari hoped that Reaver would accept her request and teach her, but nuit often had weird ways of thinking, so things, as always, were still up in the air.

[Reaver]

She was, shocked at his response, good. She might hold him to a higher standard. She might not just attack him, at least he'd have the chance to watch those predator eyes of hers work their wonders. She openly admitted not trusting him? ...An unusual choice, but a welcomed change. "I assure you, not trusting someone as strange as me, and a Nuit to boot, won't be a decision you'd be likely to regret. I know my kind tend to be almost as bad... as the worst of humans, yes? You don't need to hate me to not trust me, of course. I understand and appreciate the sentiment." A slight pause, Reaver's hand raised to the bottom of his mask. "As far as my offer, yes, of course I'd be willing. I love teaching, as long as I get to learn in return. I teach you about the city, and you teach me of the Zith? That was my hope that day. Anything I learn is a step in the right direction. It may just save someone's life, yes? Any questions to start you off? Or shall I dive in?"

[Irriari]

Irriari found herself nodding at his statements. It was hard to tell which race was worse, but Irriari felt that she had seen the worst of the nuit available during her stay at Sahova. So far, few humans had been that cruel and evil and none had mirrored the detached and methodical way that the nuit had treated her. It was an interesting thought, but not one she wanted to spend time on at the moment.

Could she teach him about the zith? What would she tell him? There were so many aspects of the race, so many paradigms that were so different... it would be a difficult endeavor, but if he tried, so would she.

“I think we can do that. I've learned a lot about the city since we last spoke, but how about you tell me things that I can't find on my own?”

OOCHopefully my post will be longer after this one, when Irr can start talking and thinking on what Reaver says. I figure she can probably talk after he says something, so we each have something to do each post.

[Reaver]

She seamed to accept the offer, they weren't on enemy terms yet. Reaver relaxed, his movement twords the edge coming to a halt. "Excellent. Was there anything in particular you weren't finding? The idea that you are alive is proof enough that you have adapted to this city well. You found me as well, that's always a mark in your favor, but not mine so much. I fear you learned most of what I had to teach you already." Reaver tapped his upper mask a few times, thinking about what to say next. "I suppose I'll start with the basics again, the government. Ravok is a city dedicated to Rhysol, the god of betrayal, evil, and chaos. Here lays the seat of his power, The Black Sun. A religious group I would have laughed at, given the world didn't change. With the change of the world, though, so did Rhysol. That change came in form of the Ebonstryfe. The Black Sun had their dangers, but nothing like what the Ebonstryfe granted them. Here, in the heart of their power, I can say I've seen what they can do quite clearly, and they reflect Rhysol's new will perfectly. Loyalty will grant you safety from one of Rysol's ideals, betrayal. Though, faking this loyalty might not save you on a bad day." Reaver paused here, ready to answer a new question or two.

[Irriari]

Irriari nodded. Reaver did have striking features and a way of speaking that had made him somewhat easy to find. She was sure that if she had been human, it would have been easier still to find the man, but few people in Ravok wanted to answer the probing questions of a zith. They could be sending their family or friends to slaughter without knowing it. But now, such concerns were hardly important as she had found the nuit.

He began speaking about Ravok and informing her of how the Black Sun, and its militant arm, the Ebonstryfe. She listened intently, adding the historical information she hadn't known to all the things she had learned during her stay in Ravok. The picture was more complete now, though pieces of the puzzle were still missing.

“But why this place? And how can a god who is of the divine run a city? Is he among us now?”

Irriari turned, half expecting to see a demonic looking human facing her. That was simply silliness. But she still knew so woefully little about the gods and the divine.

“In the colony, we knew nothing of the gods and goddesses. The only god I know of is Rhysol and that's only because I'm here. The slaves we take may worship gods, but I doubt the Elders would believe the stories, or care. The slaves are only humans and they made up a lot of stories from the surface to entertain us.”

It was the truth. In her colony, no one cared about the few goddesses Sevrai had mentioned, and Irriari had followed suit and forgotten most of them with time. Her time would be better spent on combat than fanciful human stories, the Elders had insisted, and so she had. Irriari looked up at Reaver expectantly, curious to hear what the nuit would have to say.

[Reaver]

“But why this place? And how can a god who is of the divine run a city? Is he among us now?” "Gods take part in mortal affairs quite often, "Rhysol much more then others. The Voice, the speaker for Rhysol, get's her commands from Rhysol directly. He talks to her frequently, by the sounds of things. She could be considered Rhysol's mate, though I doubt Rhysol has intimate moments. Why here, on a lake? That I do not know. It had to be somewhere, I suppose. Perhaps this lake was where the Valterrian started? Anything is possible. Is Rhysol among us now? I don't have a proper answer for you. The god could be where he wants to be, and we wouldn't have to know. He could be here, he could be anywhere else. He runs this city rather directly... through the Voice. I doubt I've ever met him, and rather regret the day I do. I fear for anyone who's under his gauze. It's safer to assume he isn't here, but has someone listening for him." Reaver listened as Irriari mentioned her home. "No talk of gods? Sounds interesting. Perhaps you should have them write their stories down. The books they write might fetch a price somewhere, you know. If the gods didn't exist, then how did people learn magic? Trial and error? I think not. Have you ever met someone marked by a god? Ask the Ebonstryfe, they all are. The marks give them power. The power is dependent on the god, I hear."