The sky was overcast and a soft breeze from the sea was carried into the city. Being from the deep forests of Taloba, the myrian did not notice the slight tang of salt in the air. However, any sea dog would smell the currents and realize that it was the beginning of autumn. The idea of four seasons had never been truly understood by Mok until now. The jungle wilds were always hot. The only thing close to a season was the wet part of the year when the storms and monsoons rolled in. Mok was very curious and somewhat happy to be in such a temperate climate. Nevertheless, the warrior still wished he was deep in the forests of his motherland.
’No. This is my home now,’ Mok said to himself,
‘forget the past. You are a grown man now. This is my home.’Not only was Mok a myrian warrior, but also a member of the Crimson Edge. The organization had been established only several months prior, but already Mok was injured in battle. Physically the wound had healed, but the scar on his arm reminded him of the event every day. Now Mok walked through the street clad in chainmail with heavier armor ready in event of a battle. Cloaked in shadowsilk, Mok reminded silent as he walked through the streets. The warrior could feel sweat run down in runnels into his gauntlets. Usually the sweat wouldn’t bother the typical fighter, but the myrian was still completely new to the idea of wearing chainmail. Mok knew however that the armor he was wearing was worth it though. He would not risk getting hit with another arrow or missile again.
Mok’s morning amble through the city led him into the market and trade center of Sunberth. It was only half a bell past eight.
‘I was just here yesterday. I wonder why you have brought me back here,’ he said to himself with a smile on his face. Moments later the crimson edge member stopped dead in his tracks. A shiver of excitement crawled down his spine when he spotted a member of the syndicate all alone,
‘Lhex’s balls!’ By the look of the syndicate member he was no more than a simple underling, a piece of human trash. Excitement, anticipation, and lust were swirling like a vortex in the myrian’s soul. Mok was going to take action in the name of the Crimson Edge.. Mok knew that NO MAN could understand what he was about to do. It was a necessity. That piece of shit was his enemy and there was nothing the gods could do about it. Mok would kill that man regardless of the consequences.
Eyes following his prey, Mok observed casually as the man walked into what seemed to be a jewelry shop. The myrian could not read common yet, so he only assumed it was some type of jewelry store. Mok had no idea what the man was going to do in the shop, but he was more than likely up to no good. With silent precision Mok glided towards the door of the shop and stayed out of view of any windows or openings that would be present on the building. The warrior leaned against the wall and unsheathed his blade, keeping it hidden under his cloak.
Minutes passed yet nothing seemed to be occurring inside. Peering into the passage leading into the store Mok could not see what was going on but he knew that the man was up to no good at all. Finally, Mok decided to intervene. Stepping into the store, Mok still hid his blade.
“Lunch.” Mok stated out loud in a monotone voice. He knew that both the syndicate and the woman tending the shop were confused, so he elaborated,
“Lunch and I will remove this piece of human trash from the store.” Mok exhaled and just hoped to Myri he was correct in assuming she needed help and that he didn’t make himself look foolish.
oocLet me know what you think. I am in a rush to sleep, so let me know if its not too unbearable to read. Red = Myrian
Bold = Common