A Strange Land (Open)

by **Carsten** on November 15th, 2011, 1:57 pm

Timestamp: 73rd of Fall 511 AV

Carsten walked through the magnificent city of Taloba, it was so unlike other cities. Where they in Syliras tried to keep nature out, and they in Riverfall tried to control it, here it seemed they allowed it in. Vines were growing all over the buildings, and that was not all that made the buildings strange. More stone than bricks, with moss growing on most of them. He doubted there was a single wooden building in the entire city, which was very large. He doubted he had seen even one tenth of the city, but he noticed that several houses were almost collapsed or empty. The city was built for a larger population than it had now, but that was only natural. It was like that in most pre-Valterrian cities, as far as he knew.

The Myrians were just as strange, they looked strange, acted strange, often staring at him with disgust, fear or hate. He was a stranger, that much was clear, and he suspected he would have to get used to the stares as long as he remained there. Not too used to it of course, it was an effective way to keep himself alert at all times, in fear of an arrow or dagger from the dark. He suspected most Myrians hated him, which stopped most of them from conversing with him. He had wanted to write a book about them, where he debunked the many, and quite frankly ridiculous, myths about them. This was difficult when no one wanted to speak with him; he wasn’t certain if anyone even could speak to him. His guides, Siiri and her troop, had spoken Common, but they were scouts and would meet outsiders more often than anyone else.

For now, his book only contained information about his journey, and conversations with Garou and Siiri. It had not been many, but as he knew so little every little bit expanded his knowledge. It might have been easier if he tried speaking Myrian, but he was too poor at it, and he did not want to reveal his little knowledge of it. He thought maybe Siiri suspected, but he doubted it. For now, he could listen in on conversations, and if he was lucky, he could catch and understand a word or two.

He entered the Plaza, and saw all the inhabitants running about on their own business. It seemed chaotic, and Carsten did not understand how anyone could finish their business in such a mass of people. The smells and words around him were strange, and to absorb it all, he merely walked around mindlessly, listening, watching and smelling. The day was beautiful; the sun was shining and the sky was clear. Today, Carsten thought, Will be a useful day.

by **Revy Hiroe** on November 16th, 2011, 10:29 pm

The lone mercenary wandered around town, not really having a goal right now. Everyone eyed her with suspicion, fear or hate. Well, she was used to it and ignored it mostly. But there were some young myrians that wanted to fight her, she could see it in their eyes. But having your arm in a splint wouldn't really help in a fight.

"Petching piece of shyke Dhani, forsaken by your god. You've put me in a bit of trouble, I want to fight those guys so badly. AAAAARGH", she thought annoyed to herself. Revy's face was contorted in anger, annoyance and a slight hint of defeat. She, who never backed away from a fight and usually sought it, couldn't do that what she loved most right now. All because of that Dhani that just had to break her arm.

As if her luck couldn't grow any better, a very mannerless myrian just had to bump in to her right side. Pain shot up through the woman's arm, her anger flaring up thrice as high as she violently turned around to give the guy that did it a strong punch for his head. It was then that she saw someone familiar and not on her 'favorite' list. The worst part about it was that she made eyecontact with him.

"Crap, just who I especially wanted to avoid....... Carsten, that misformed manwoman with a knitting needle for a weapon.", her aversion showed on her face as she casually turned around. Revy wasn't going to pick a fight with that guy just yet. Even though his weapon was just a needle, it was nonetheless sharp. She had seen that in the fight with the Dhani. And since she didn't have her dominant arm right now, she couldn't use her father's old towershield to protect herself, making her even more vurnerable."Once I've healed up, the first guy that I'm gonna smash is that guy. I'll beat him up to a bloody pulp, frigging ice castle heart."

by **Siiri** on November 17th, 2011, 12:21 am

Siiri was out early that day. She had returned to the city a few days back with her two humans 'guests' in tow, and now, with a week or so for herself after her long foray out in the jungle, the Snapping Jaws warrioress was in desperate need to find an activity that would occupy herself during her free time. She had served in the military her whole adult life and she still never got used to the down time given to her after a long patrol. In truth, she actually envied the other people she knew, who had other hobbies like gardening or sewing to distract them while waiting for their next assignment. Siiri felt that all she knew was how to fight, and when not doing that or teaching others how to do it, she found herself...lost.

Or I could be at the clanhome helping Tala manage the day to day stuff of the Snapping Jaws, she thought, hearing a mocking tone in her mental voice. Riiiiight.

Just the mere image that conjured in her mind was enough to elicit a twisted smile on her lips. Siiri hated doing those little things her elder sister seemed to enjoy so much. The elders of the Snapping Jaws may be grooming her to be the next matriarch but there was no way she could sit down for even a minute to listen to all the new problems and issues their clan was experiencing for the day. Sure, she may have pulled rank on a few people just to be able to sneak out of the clanhome but the elders could shove it if they thought they could make her sit through listening to that. She'd honestly rather face a horde of yukmen than do so. That's why Tala was doing all that in her stead - her rightful role, something she should be doing naturally without me having to appoint her, if I had my way, Siiri thought sourly - and she was out in the streets looking to find something she might enjoy doing.

Siiri scanned the through the mass of people as she tried to recall where the exotic goods merchant's usually put up his stall. She had been wanting to obtain a good set of carving tools for herself, similar to what the old Baba owned, but finding ones made of steel was rare in a city whose tools were often crafted from wood, bone or stone. The merchant made occasional trips to Black Rock however, and Siiri had mentioned to him a while before of her desire for such a set. She hoped the man would have one in his inventory.

Peering through the crowd, she spotted a now familiar face of one of the humans she had escorted to the city. It was the male, Carsten the Ano cultist, and he stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of bronze-skinned Myrians with his pale complexion. The man seemed to just be strolling, taking in the sights and the sounds of Taloba, watching the inhabitants with those flat, expressionless eyes of his. His gaze had actually passed over Siiri, but she doubted he recognized her with the braids of her cornrows unbound and her hair making her look like a lion. She was out of her leathers as well, sporting a colorful orange and black tiger stripe sarong. It was likely she blended in with the similarly dressed women going about their business in the central hub of the city.

Siiri slipped to the side, weaving her way through the crowd in order to work her way to Carsten's tail. She wanted to see, without being seen herself, what the human planned for the day. It would also give her the chance to observe his interactions with others of her kind.

by **Carsten** on November 22nd, 2011, 12:31 pm

The plaza was almost overwhelming, he could not understand any of the words he heard of gestures he saw. They were too fast, and so many. He had seen the likes in Syliras, and Endrykas had been as chaotic, but it was different when the language and culture was so different.

He was speaking to a Myrian merchant, a woman who was selling rings, amulets, circlets, any jewelry really, of bone when a woman bumped into him. He turned and watched as she walked on, not even looking at him. It had been strange, seeing the power the women held in Taloba. Siiri could have led the men because she had more experience, but the society was in fact matriarchal. He had noted so in his book, and he suspected it might have something to do with their goddess, Myri. He sighed, and left the merchant. She had spoken a heavily accented and generally bad Common, and only his basic understanding of Myrian had allowed him to understand some of what she said, which did not help him much. He had bluntly asked her who she was, and she told him she was Hrista of the, then a word he did not understand, Arrow. Then she had only told him what he thought meant that he had to buy something or go. Another one had turned him away, and he sighed in his head; another one had simply turned him away. It seemed hopeless, but he could not give up.

Suddenly he saw the other human from Siiri’s party: Revy. They had not spoken much, but already it was clear to Carsten that Revy did not think highly of him. No matter what she thought of him, she might have learned more of the Myrians, or maybe she had even gotten to know someone. Even if she did not, it would make sense for the only two humans in Taloba, as far as he knew, at least, to try and stick together. Carsten hoped Revy would be able to lie her petty dislike of him away as he approached with a hand raised in greeting.

by **Revy Hiroe** on November 22nd, 2011, 1:52 pm

From her eyecorner, the mercenary noticed that Carsten had noticed her. Now she couldn't slip away silently without him noticing. Couldn't she just have a nice calm day? All she wanted right now was just to walk around the city, trying to figure out how the layout was. She felt that it was better to remember all the places with ease, then having to refer to a map, if there were one.

But none the less, Revy turned to the fencer and forced a smile on her face. It was only courteous to wave back to him, though she kept the gesture small. "What does he want? Can't he see that I hate his guts?", she thought as her annoyance started to slowly creep across her face. "If it's nothing, I'll reconfigure that face of his."

Walking over to the human man, she asked him blunt, but still a pretty emotionless voice: "What is it? I hope it's something worthwhile. I was just checking out the city, since I can't be doing much else. Don't understand what they're saying anyway." There wasn't a single moment that she let her injured arm away from her chest. She didn't want others to bump into it, which most young myrians appeared to be doing on purpose.

by **Siiri** on November 24th, 2011, 1:08 pm

Siiri could not suppress a chuckle as she saw Carsten catch sight of Revy. The initial expression on the human mercenary's face revealed her dislike for her fellow human, though she tried to cover it up as the Carsten approached in greeting. How strange these outsiders were to Siiri then! She could not imagine thinking ill of a fellow Myrian - except for those few whose guts she naturally hated, but then she knew those people from a life-long experience with them. These two humans had not even known each other for even a month, and it was clear that one of them despised the other for no apparent reason. None that Siiri could tell, at least.

Are these two from different cultures then? she wondered.

Her one exposure to human society was in the desert kingdom of Eyktol, but Revy and Carsten were clearly not from that region. The sand-dwellers were much more close to one another and would have in fact immediately formed a bond and spent more time together had they found themselves in the Myrian capital. So unlike these two. Revy seemed to have some kind of aversion for the male. Siiri wondered why.

She maintained her surreptitious observation of the two, lingering on a fruit stall as if inspecting the produce for sale displayed there. The merchant manning the booth did not offer her his usual sales talk, fully aware of what she was doing for her eyes never left the two humans.

OOC NoteApologies for the rushed post, I'll do better on the next one and try to provide story elements as well. Just didn't want to keep you guys waiting for my reply.

by **Carsten** on November 25th, 2011, 4:32 pm

Revy surprised Carsten when she forced out a smile. She wishes to be courteous then? Surprising. he thought. Revy did not seem like a woman to hide her emotions, no, she had to Carsten appeared like a woman that faced her troubles head on; preferably with a sword in her hand.

When she got close, her mask of fake hospitality crumbled. Was she in fact angry with him? Was it annoyance at his demeanor? He had experienced that before, but most were simply put off by it, not angered. Maybe he had insulted her? He doubted it, when would that have been? He had done nothing to insult her during their journey, at least as far as he knew. Was it religious difference, perhaps? He seemed to remember Siiri mentioning that Revy was a follower of Myri, but he had not seen her pray, or mention, neither Myri nor any other gods. Of course, that did not mean that she was not a worshipper. He did not go down on his knees to Gnora every night; in fact he did so very rarely. A true believer would worship a God through their actions, not only with empty words.

Carsten thought he had found out where their difference lay when the two met. ”You have not been able to get close to the Myrians either, then.”, he stated. It may have been worded as a question, but in his tone it came out as a question. It sounded blunt because of the lack of a proper greeting, but they had clearly decided to ignore common courtesy and greetings.

He turned his head to look over the welter of people one more time, before turning to Revy and looking her straight into the eyes. ”Why did you come to Taloba?”.

by **Revy Hiroe** on November 25th, 2011, 5:25 pm

Even if Carsten did not mean to, he still pissed her off. The bluntness of that question was outrageous. He dared to mock her like that? It was as if he judged he because of it. It wasn't her fault that most of them didn't speak a word common and those who did spoke with such a heavy accent that she wasn't able to figure out what they said half of the time. And besides that was the fact that the myrians didn't even bother to try and make it understandable.

"My reasons are my own and none of your concern. And if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to go now. I was busy when I met you.", Revy told Carsten with her voice filled with cold anger. "Stay calm, don't draw your weapon here. There is no room to fight this piece of shyke. Don't want to piss these myrians off either by resolving my problem with him here.", she thought as she tried to at least keep herself from recklessly attacking the fencer.

The mercenary's left hand was opening and closing the whole time, as if she wanted to grab her sword and straight out attack the guy in front of her. But she kept away from that right now, instead she just looked at him with a cold and deathly stare. Her intent to kill shone in her eyes and her anger was easily readable from her face if one looked at the twitching muscle near the corner of her mouth.

by **Zolaj** on November 27th, 2011, 12:03 pm

Zolaj entered the city wearing her soft, leather cloak that was decorated with crow feathers and a worn out bag carrying her surviving essentials. Her feet felt the foreign terrain. She was used to walking on soft, hot sand not the hard ground beneath her, but that did not bother her. She liked the new feeling of the cool ground and how her feet pushed against them instead of sinking. Zolaj absorbed everything the city had to offer from the grand vines that traveled across the city to the distinctive smell of the air around her. Looking at the extravagant buildings and the unusual culture of the people, Zolaj did not notice the glares of the natives and could not contain her gasps and squeals of excitement.

Zolaj had no idea what she was going to do here. All she cared about was that she was away from home and into a world new to her where the possibilities were endless. Zolaj stumbled into the plaza that was filled with the buzz of chattering people and people who were scattered around doing whatever pleased them. “Woah. This is unreal!” Zolaj said to herself. Zolaj wanted to buy all the strange items the merchants were selling, but she new she had to save her money for other important things. Since she could not buy the items, Zolaj took her time admiring and looking at the items. She tried to feel one of the merchandise, but the seller abruptly snapped at her and shooed her off. She didn't mind though. Daylight is wasting and she still had not seen even a quarter of the city.

She walked on to a fruit stall accompanied by a man and a tall warior like woman. The stall was full with a vast assortment of different colors. Curious of what these were, Zolaj smiled warmly at the man by the stall and tried to ask him what he is selling, but he looked at her with a confused face. Thinking it would help him understand her, she spoke slower, “Hii, I'm neeeww heerree, can you tell me whaaat theese arree?” Zolaj realized she was speaking in her native language. Aware of her mistake Zolaj translated, but her accent was heavy and the man could not understand her. The man gave her yet another confused faced, this time with a hint of annoyance.

OOC: Hey, just wanted to say this is my first time roleplaying and I've never really wrote stories before, so hopefully I'm not too bad! But anyways, this is going to be ballin'! Swwwaag!

by **Siiri** on November 28th, 2011, 1:54 pm

Siiri watched the interaction between the two humans with more than a passing interest. The woman mercenary seemed angry at the male, by an unreasonable amount by the Myrian's estimation, considering they were outsiders in a society that was suspicious and barely tolerated them. She had expected the two to develop a bond more than anything else because of the setting they were in.

Strange, she thought, noting that Revy was close to drawing her weapon and it appeared that she only refrained from doing so due to being surrounded by people who would likely interpret such an action as hostile intent. This Revy seems to have some sort of chip on her shoulder. She wasn't like this when we ran into her...

And it was true too. The woman was raring for a fight when Siiri's fang found her in the eastern dock, but there wasn't a trace of rage in her even while she dueled with Siiri nor after the fight after the warrioress knocked her silly. She wondered what it was Carsten that had so set her off. The male was a strange specimen, even for a human, but Siiri disregarded it as something to do with his unheard of religion. So why was Revy so mad at him?

Kind of reminds you of you, doesn't she?

The thought came unbidden, and it surprised Siiri not because of what it entailed, but rather that the mental voice sounded much like her mother's. Ehra was gone for more than a season now, her soul no doubt serving Myri in the Ukalas, or perhaps waiting in line to be reincarnated into the world again, but her presence still lingered within her, coming to remind Siiri of her nature in the most unexpected of times.

Siiri did not get the chance to introspect any further, as she heard an unfamiliar dialect spoken behind her. It was alien to her, very strange sounding but it reminded her of the people of the desert of Yahebah.

Except...different.

The warrioress whirled around, to find herself looking at a deyhan no older than her sister Kara, maybe even younger. The obsidian black eyes easily gave her appearance away as an outsider more than anything about her. Siiri recalled a girl with similar eyes back in her youth, but that girl was half-Myrian at least. This one appeared a full-bred...whatever-she-was.

Siiri's instincts, deeply ingrained into her as a warrior and a guardian of Falyndar's jungles and Myri's lands to outsiders, kicked in. She scanned the crowd, looking to see if any one among the hundreds of Myrians milling about the trading square was tailing this girl and making sure she wasn't up to any mischief. To her surprise, she found no one among paying any particular interest to the girl. Some did cast more than one suspicious glance at the deyhan but they went about their business as soon as they lost sight of her.

Siiri's reaction to the girl's presence was swift and immediate. And unfortunately for the poor Chaktawe girl, also brutal.

One hand darted to grab the girl's arm and, with her strength, Siiri easily twisted it behind her back into a shoulder lock, violently forcing the girl into a forward-leaning position. A flick of the wrist of her free hand and the dagger strapped to her bracer quietly slipped into her waiting fingers. She pressed the cold steel of the blade close to the girl's cheek, not too much to draw blood, but just enough to tell the girl that she meant business. The Myrians near them were surprised by the sudden move, but after the initial jump of surprise, everyone quickly went about their business, as if what Siiri had done was the most natural thing any Myrian would have done to an outsider.

"How did you get into the city, deyhan?" she hissed into the girl's ear. "Who's your watch, and how did you get the slip on her that you're wandering out here alone in the Plaza?"

She increased the torque on the girl's twisted arm ever so slightly, very painful even for such a miniscule increment, just to make her talk that much faster. Whoever was assigned to watch this girl would get a talking to from her as well, for allowing her free reign into the city.

OOC Notes :