To the Wharf... (Solo)

[Zandelia]

The Establishment

Fall 69th, Av 511

Zandelia sat, once more, within the rooms of The Establishment, her contempt for the lazy wretches around her not quite palpable but still noticeable after a fashion. The way in which she held her robes away from their sweating bodies to prevent their scent from infecting her clothing, or the fact that she was more than willing to threaten and manipulate them to gain advantage or profit were telltale signs. It was a business after all and business revolved around earnings and not around the services in Sunberth. Tua did not care what Zandelia did so long as she completed her given tasks and did not kill any of the huddled masses around her. As such she saw nothing wrong with pocketing a miza here or a snippet of information there.

Bloody fools wouldn’t even know what to do with them at any rate, lost in their greed and admiration for coinage as they are she thought to herself as she flipped her latest gained miza from her thumb and caught it repeatedly in the air in front of her.

She had become a part of the very furniture of the place now, she was convinced. The guards knew her by name, face and reputation now and were more than happy to talk idly to her, sifting inexpertly for anything of use she might know for them. She upheld such encounters as it kept her mind sharp to spar with them in a friendly fashion, avoiding their questions whilst directing their words to what she wished to hear with carefully enclosed questioning. The clerks, too, knew her well and saw her as a professional who never failed in the undertaking of a task, in short and asset to their master and themselves. It was a good position she was in, a member of a central beauracracy that not only paid her but gave her some small standing and plenty of singular opportunities to both improve her skills and gain small amounts of knowledge to claim for her own.

“If I were a cynical woman I would say Tua wanted me to be like this and merely had to direct my potential to what he deemed my suitable place. However, I know something he does not and that is my advantage in that regard” she muttered to herself as she kept up the charade that she was merely bored and lost in her won mind as far as the crowded throng was concerned.

It was an act too, and a fine one at that. She was learning to hone her facades to be convincing to the common man at the least, their simple minds not convoluted enough to consider very often that she may very well be using them for her own purposes. At that moment she was finding great pleasure in mining the crowd for rumour and whisperings – things they thought they were keeping secret but were really spreading like wildfire in ripples through the crowd. Recently Sunberth had had a number of troubling events, however the recent ones that suggested all out war between he gangs becoming an escalation affair were of particular interest. Escalation was a good theory to hold, that when rivals got daggers you got swords and so on. However, to Zandelia there was more to the affair and her intelligence skills, withered and atrophied as they were, were screaming out other motivations to her.

For starters there is the drought, having continued now well beyond what was hoped. Water is growing scarce and resources are important in a war. Starving men will fight to the death over the last piece of meat after all. That’s not to mention the aftermath from that damned mist week, with ghouls and ghosts and countless deaths that are always laid at the feet of other gang members rather than stupidity. No, there’s more to all this gang warfare talk than meets the eye she thought to herself as she listened to them all talk.

She was fairly sure that the gang leaders liked to have regular confrontations just to wither their own ranks too, their bloated masses too much to uphold the payments and organization of, for even the most tenaciously rich mind. No, intelligence dictated that there was more to the coming events than a little bit of weapon selling. Her own notes and titbits stretched across the whole of the northern, and a part of the southern, regions of Sunberth and they all pointed to differing reasoning and thousands of half-predicted plans. She needed to be more direct in her dealings with this information, she knew, it could not only save her life but prove quite profitable too. To do so, however, she knew she would need to get closer to the gang members and they were very suspicious of late..

“Have you come with another job for me then clerk? And I was all settled and happy too” she spoke as the man came into her peripheral vision, the dark grey robes all too familiar to her now.

“Be that as it may Zandelia, we pay you to run and not to sit. Old Leg’s wharf. Guard job. You need to be quick for this one as the applicant is heading out right now. Go on then!” the clerk nattered at her, thrusting the missive into her hand and giving her a little shove.

She shrugged, placed the missive inside her armour and robes as always and began to move towards the door, her mission set out for her.

[Zandelia]

Setting Out in the Commons

The ritual was always the same, the preparation a key basic building block for her success as a word runner for Tua’s enterprise. She had learnt very early on indeed that to be prepared was to be alive, and only a living person could finish a mission given to them, not mention have any use for the money earned at all. The door was empty and easy to walk through as she passed it at a brisk walking speed, tugging at her gauntlets as always, holding her Shadowsilk Robes out and letting them fall back into their natural place before pulling the hood up to conceal both her head and her facial features for the most part. Her tonfa were secured in their holsters she knew after a quick tug or two and the rope at her belt was more than ready for the journey. Assassin’s beads hid at her belt along with assorted other items she might find use for one day, in a tight spot indeed. No, she was prepared for anything and ready to finish the task set before her.

It shouldn’t be too hard at any rate seeing as Old Leg’s Wharf and Guard House is merely a little way east of here. It should be more a matter of how quickly I can get there in comparison to the applicant more than the long distance this time. I could run the entire way if necessary she told herself, her pride not glowing at the fact she was considering to herself. After weeks of running consistently she could almost sprint the entire distance before collapsing.

Still, there was the route to consider and consider carefully, as well as quickly. She did not resent taking a few moments of time to think it through before setting out, knowing it would cost her more time if she got lost or blocked out along the way than the time taken by her now to plan out the route. The Main road was an obvious choice but also very crowded and difficult to traverse quickly. It was safer longer than she wished to take in arriving to her destination – speed being of the essence and the ability to take flight qith speed of more value than caution in this instance. The only other real option she knew was to take to the rooftops to her right, to the east, and cut across the dogleg of the main street. In that manner she would get to the finish as the bird flew and face little opposition.

“The trade off, of course, being a chance of falling and injury – or death. Not to mention there are quite a few crazy people around there. Still, I think we can handle them today” she told herself as her decision was all but made for her.

A few moments planning and she had the winning formula for success once more, and though arrogance would be a placard given to her at that moment she felt that she deserved the ability to be a little bit arrogant, having proven herself time and time again as a reliable and successful courier for her employer. Not everyone could say the same, after all, what with the constant deaths and failures of others in terms of expediency. Still, she reeled her ego in slightly and redirected her thoughts to the current plan – deliver the damned missive and get back in one petching piece to boot. The beginning was not altogether too arduous, it merely consisting of running to her right, heading east along the outskirts of the main road a short ways before darting around a corner and to towards the south, down an alleyway. She kept her eye open for what she knew would be there at some point and found it perhaps a minute into her sprint down the alley – something upon which to ascend to the heavens with. She already had her rope tied in a noose, having learnt the complicated knotting technique from a sailor whom had had a tad too much to drink with her some weeks back. However it was her first opportunity to try it out.

“I bloody hope this works you old sea dog” she chuckled as she pulled the rope from her side and set about loosening it out, her hand holding the noose end tightly and the rest of the rope loosely coiled in her left hand and ready to drop without hesitation to aid its flight.

She swung the noose about her head in a good number of wide circles, as she had been taught, to do, and took aim at the protrusion jutting out from the roof that was her target. She took a deep, relaxing breath, and let her noose fly upwards and forwards, hoping her aims was true indeed. To her credit she almost hooked the noose upon the protrusion, missing by a mere few inches. Still, a miss was a miss and the rope fell back down to the ground – a waste of time to be sure. She cursed out loud and gathered it up as quickly as possible. She swung it around again, took aim and let it fly once more.

Please, Akajia lend me aid! she prayed to herself fervently.

Time was, as always, of the essence.

[Zandelia]

Rooftops of the Docks

It was with a triumphal croon that she saw her second attempt at latching her well-crafted noose onto the rooftop protrusion met with a decisive success. The loop swept over the body of the pipe, or whatever it was indeed as she could not tell from her current distance, and caught upon its length as it tightened slightly as it came to a sudden halt in its flight. She could not help but let the grin of achievement spread across her face for a few moments as she tugged further upon the bottom of the rope, securing the noose as she had been taught, and tightened its grip around what would now be her only hope of staying upon her path to delivering the missive within her black robes. She pulled until she could pull no more, the noose as tight and secure as it would possibly go, and then began her first steps at vertical elevation by bracing her left leg upon the wall of the building she was facing.

And now to see if the blasted thing will hold me as I climb she growled to herself as she prepared to ascend to the rooftops with as much speed as was possible. She had pulled the rope hard enough to ensure that whatever her rope was latched upon was solid enough, however the real test would come when her entire body was left suspended by its form – only then telling her if it was a viable possibility.

She braced her left leg, half bent as it was, and pushed up with her right one as strongly as she could muster. As she did so she gave a pull with both of her arms that meant she could swing her right leg up and onto the wall at the same level as her left still was. She was now a good foot or two off of the ground and the world had changed from its normal perspective. The wall was now her ground and the ground below her was now a wall he could stumble backwards into. Ahead she could see the lip of the rooftop, which was now to all intents and purposes a plunge downwards into an abyss. She knew this was not so, that reality had changed not at all, however perspective had shifted and in that she learnt a valuable lesson as she hung, awaiting the few moments she took to test the grappled objects strength before climbing further.

“Perspective is all” she muttered to herself as she took yet a few more moments before she decided it was strong enough to get her where she wanted to go and it was worth climbing further.

Then came a game that was slow, arduous and painful, however it would gain her much time when compared to the crowds and throngs found within the streets and docklands areas. As long as she pressed the advantage she would find that upwards and sideways would be much faster than dodging people and animals on the ground. It was a game of willpower and constant movement, her arms pulling as each leg took a step forwards along the wall. Then came the inevitable shifting of her grip to maintain her position as she brought her second leg up to be level with the first, stabilizing her position perhaps another two feet upwards in her ascent. This continued for perhaps two minutes, step after step and pull after pull, until her arm muscles began to aches fiercely and she found herself to be mockingly glad of Mok’s training regime for her. It proved useful now as she came within stepping distance of the rooftop now, hooking her legs over it and using her arms to pull herself all the way up until she could shuffle her body onto the roof proper and pant for a few seconds.

“Bloody have to get the technique perfected. Another game for Mok to contrive I suppose” she grunted to herself as she realised she was dripping with sweat and that her hair was all but soaked and stuck to her scalp.

Rolling over she pulled the noose loose and wound the rope around her palm and elbow before securing it at her side once more, kneeling now as she was. Only then could she glance around and figure that she was facing north rather than the east she needed to be. Turning to her right she saw that the rooftops consisted of three rows of houses before a larger jump onto what she presumed was a business place of some kind. Then just a little way away in the middle distance, was her destination – Old Leg’s. She set off at a shambling run, ordering her legs into rhythm as she set about the last leg of her journey now.

[Zandelia]

Cutting Across the Skies

Zandelia had only a little way to go now, her destination within her eyesight, limited by her single eye as it was. Still, even she could clearly make out the rough building of Old Leg’s centre of dockyard operations. The only real difficulty lay in actually getting there rather than not being able to find the blasted building. There were scare numbers of rooftops after the halfway point across her shortcut. Still, this did not deter Zandelia overly much as she knew she would find a way with enough effort put into the search. As such it was with a fairly neutral sense of ambivalence that she set out across the rooftops, cutting across the very skies of Sunberth themselves. As she began her journey she was forced to head south, initially heading away from the wharf, but after leaping across a few medium-sized gaps and scrambling across four rooftops she was presented with the option of curling gradually around to the east once more. It was as she turned eastwards that she began to encounter pockets of depth, where the absence of rooftop was more than noticeable.

All the rooftops in Sunberth and I’m going to petching run out of them soon! What the hell does reality think it’s playing at?! she cursed as she was forced to take a diagonal leap for her life across a much larger gap than she wished to spring herself across.

She landed heavily, the height difference meaning that she had dropped a few feet in height, the impact from the landing forcing her knees to bend as she rolled forwards, trying to keep her ankles from breaking and her momentum from shattering her shins completely. She came up out of the roll in a terrible position, the rooftops all around her higher than she could reach. She cursed and thought quickly, noticing a corner where two low walls met. She ran at it, jumping so that her right foot landed on one wall, used it as a springboard as her left foot pushed upwards on the other wall. With great effort and agility she managed to hook her forearms over the lip of the lower roof and, scrabbling and scraping at the wall for purchase with her feet, hauled herself over and onto it bodily. She rolled sideways until she was face down and pushed herself upwards, taking her bearings swiftly and seeing her final destination northwest of her position now.

“Bloody docks and their lack of buildings” she growled at herself as she ran as fast as she dared, whilst still keeping her footing, and circled to face the north. Another series of four rooftops passed in a blur as jump after jump, leap after leap, she made her way as far north as she could.

Had anyone been inclined to look upwards along her journey’s route they would see black flashes across the lines of sky and cloud, perhaps wondering what it was that had disturbed their pleasant view. Still, she pushed on until she could go no further and, breathing heavily to regain lost oxygen to fuel her running, she noted that she was almost directly upon the Drunken Fish – haven to sailor scum and dockhand debauchery. It was about five feet lower than her and it was her only way down. It frustrated Zandelia further that between her location and the Drunken Fish the gap was perhaps five feet wide in width, though it was hard to judge how her higher ground would affect her trajectory and landing point. She sighed, remembering a similar situation a few weeks ago with much the same number of options – none. She stepped back a little way, took a deep breath, and pumped her arms and legs for all they were worth. She sprinted to the edge, jumping at the very last bit of roofing, and then air was all she had to accompany her. Her arms flailed in circles, as if they could propel her forwards further and their job was now not over, their fate sealed despite the efforts. She landed, all but crumpling, upon the roof of the Drunken Fish. Her cushioning of the fall was harder this time, the force pushing her off her feet completely to roll across her shoulders and hips rather than down her back. Still, she had succeeded in getting within a hair’s breadth of her goal and it felt triumphal that she had passed through fate’s eye and succeeded.

“Come on then Zandelia, not far to go now!” she grunted at herself as she hauled herself back to her feet, staggered a little, and then shuffled back into her journey.

[Zandelia]

Fall and Deliver

Zandelia, back upon her feet now, realised two very important and disparate things within the first few seconds of no longer being vertically challenged. The first piece of information came from her feet without bidding, nor warning at all. It was the pain, dull and throbbing as if it were seeping from the very bones themselves. It was a hard one to quantify in that it was neither sharp nor regional in nature, merely just existing within her feet. She knew she would feel the impact from the last jumping leap for some time and that it would be wise to not put her body through another such trial of endurance any time soon. She was not sure it would be able to withstand it at any rate, if she were to be truly honest with herself. The second piece of information percolated into her numbed, but rapidly recovering, consciousness through her emerald green eye as she brushed a few stray strands of blonde hair from in front of its gaze and pulled her robes and hood back into their proper arrangements.

The damned place is basically twenty yards away! I’m bloody well on its doorstep and I’m petching stuck too she thought to herself bitterly as she took in the busy workers that seemed to flit here and there, running and gathering together. The seemed smaller from her vantage pint, more crawling bugs than humans and others. It seemed somewhat apt to her, considering the state of Sunberth as a whole.

“Mites, gnats, fleas and worms they are. Beetles we are, worker ants in a nest that keeps us in our places” she whispered to herself as she pulled the rope from its holster and opened the noose fully once more.

She knew the noose was not usable for a descent, and a descent would now require the rope. She could not use the noose to secure a point from which to swing to the ground, not and keep the rope afterwards – and rope was an expensive commodity these days. Or at least the good quality kind was, and she would not entrust her life to any other type. No, she looped her own wrist inside the noose and slipped it down to the middle of her forearm. There she pulled it tight and felt it begin to bite into her muscles uncomfortably. Still, much more discomfort was to come she knew. Her next task took a few moments longer, finding a secure thing upon Sunberthian rooftops no mean feat to her knowledge. Still, eventually it was found and she looped the rope around it a few times to act as the anchor. She then took the other free end of the rope and wrapped it around her free arm. Thus she approached the edge of the rooftop and gazed down into the possibility of death below.

Insanity. They say the gods protect lovers and fools. I am no lover, but please let them count me a fool this day she prayed to herself as she took a deep breath and began to let herself over the edge and down the side of the wall.

It was a slow and painful process as she descended, step by taken step, and continuing only when she was secure in each footing. The noose began to cut off the circulation in her left arm just over halfway down, numbing her fingers and lessening her grip to an almost dangerous level. The skin of her right palm grated against the grain of the rope, tearing and being worn away as if it were nothing but butter under a hot knife. The last few feet were agony to the point of exasperation, and two feet from the ground he merely let her right piece of rope go and slid to the ground, the landing sending a flash of pain up her heels but preventing her arm from being ripped off by the noose. She pulled her trembling, and distinctly white hand now, from the noose and tugged at the rope with her right hand until it all fell to the floor. By that time her left arm was aflame as blood surged back into the veins and arteries here, flooding life back where moments ago there had been nothing. The dam had been broken and it was complaining to her forcefully now. She gritted her teeth and hissed as she wound the rope and clumsily put it back into its holster.

“Come on then” she sighed to herself as she made the short distance to Old Leg’s Wharf within seconds and entered the doorway into chaos. She threaded through the crowds until she came to the desk she needed, handing over the black envelope to a senior dockhand and receiving the new one for the return journey. They were silent to each other, Zandelia too tired for pleasantries and the man not truly caring about them.

Back to The Establishment then Zandelia, back for a rest. Bloody rest she told herself, her strength hanging by a thread and very much in need of the encouragement.

[Zandelia]

The Shambling of Silence

The return journey was not one that went quickly, flashing past like some many others had done in the past season. She would be the first to admit that, after acquiring the second black envelope that was always destined for the hands of Tua himself, her returns to The Establishment were never as quick as they could be – always a bit lazier and more relaxed. It was usually a time within which she could rest, recover and reflect upon her service to Sunberth’s chief spider. She could use the time to piece together bits of knowledge she had gained that same day, or perhaps mull over hints an rumours she had gleaned from those around her throughout the week – attempting to form the collage of truth from the hundred of crumbs she was usually given. This return journey, however, was done in silence of both mouth and mind.

She was a numbed out carcass, shuffling and shambling her way at the edges of the crowds that still packed the main streets that connected the dock areas of Sunberth and the northern entrances to the Castle Commons, where her place of employment was firmly situated – on the pulse of the northern part of Sunberth as it were. Not an accidental location she would be willing to wager, but inconvenient for Zandelia now, battered and bruised as she was. She was barely walking, half-hobbling and half shuffling along, her black robes covered with dust and grime, lank around her from the cooling sweat soaked into the fabric. She could feel how her leather armour beneath was slimy for the exact same reason, merely adding to her seemingly perpetual discomfort. Her arm was cradled by the other, the blood pumping through it throbbing to the pulse of searing pain found there.

Finally… was all she could bring her dulled brain to communicate to itself as she leaned against the doorway of The Establishment, her forehead pressing into the wood there in an attempt to regain some of her focus and strength, her eyes closed in a semi-meditative state. She could not afford to look weak after all.

“Let’s deliver the damned letter then” she gritted her teeth as she spoke to herself, slipping through the door, using her uninjured shoulder to shove it aside and create the gap of entrance.

The crowds were, thankfully, not as boisterous as usual. It was getting towards the end of the day now and Zandelia fervently hoped she would have no more missive to run. She almost broke into tears as the black letter was handed over and she was given leave to return to her home for the evening. The smile that crept across her mouth was equal parts desperation, joy and wry amusement. She would most definitely not be returning to her cold, dank tent for a while yet. No, instead she sat down within one of the more shadowy corners, pulling up her hood so that she was a mere ghost amongst living souls, and relaxed – in so far as she was able to do so. Only after an hour or so of that did she finally feel able to heave herself to her feet and begin the long walk to the Hot Springs, her next destination in bodily recovery. She needed the sense of peace and serenity it brought her now more than ever, the warmth that would inherently aid her body in repairing itself a mere bonus to her eye at that point in time.

“Too much damage today, too much recklessness. I am no longer young and spry. Today has taught that lesson to me well, and well I shall keep it” she groaned to herself as she set about the arduous task of limping to her next destination.

Always to the next destination… she told herself, the story of her life reflected in five simplistic words.

[Archelon]

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Zandelia : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Skills: Running 4 Jumping 3 Climbing 3 Navigation 3 Observation 2 Lores: Sunberth Docks(Basic) The troubles of working at the Establishment Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting thread!Keep them up. Side note: Sunberth roofs aren't that sturdy unless your in some well built areas. Go too much roof hopping near the northern docks and old legs' guards should shoot you down , ntm stumble alley's in the way of getting there .