Open Why Throw Your Life Away?

[Liminal]

Winter 512 AV, 2-60

Charm Wright’s home was tucked away among the foothills of the Zatoska Mountains. The gate was some half a mile from the house, and the path to the residence was lined with oak trees, skeletal in the winter gloom.

She had elected to receive applicants for her expedition to Darva here, as opposed to the Sailors’ Guild Hall, or some other place in the center of Zeltiva. For business of this importance, she wanted to be in her own space, her own domain.

When someone arrived, they were ushered into a study. The walls were lined with books – the whole collection must have cost thousands of mizas. There was a fire in the fireplace, which was flanked by two leather armchairs. Charm took one, and directed the visitor to the second.

”There is only one question that I want to ask,” she said, once introductions had been made. ”Why would you possibly want to follow an old woman to a cursed island, from which no one has returned?”

There was a trace of self-mockery in the way she asked the question, but when the answer came, she was all business. The woman's keen eyes seemed to take in everything, and all her attention focused on the matter at hand.




OOC: If you want to come on the Darva quest, please post here and answer Charm's question!

[Kenneric Crowe]

The 35th Day of Winter, 512th Year After the Valterrain.

He found the house reasonably well. Secluded and tucked away amongst the mountains, the old woman lived what seemed a slow, quiet life, albeit a more extravagant one than he ever partook. Interesting that she asked them to come all the way out her for this meeting, but he wasn’t about to complain. Crowe urged Flash further down the dirt path, gazing speculatively upon the home Charm Wright had made for herself. Word of this expedition had reached him in the city and once in his head had taunted him ever since. He had not been able to concentrate on another task until he resolved that he would, indeed, go speak to her about it.

He had thought about wearing his road cloths, but denied the notion. This was Charm Wright! He would have to wear his best on this venture. So he donned his mahogany velvet trousers, white velvet shirt, and brown vest inlaid with golden brocade, as well as the black half-cape for good measure. He aimed to impress her.

It took him a few more hours to resolve that he would be going. Such a venture had the potential to be extremely profitable. This could be the push he needed to find some direction. He had been all but lost since Lowych’s death. Everything he did seemed to be a shadow of some other better, more imaginative act Lowych would have pushed for. Well old man, how about a voyage to an uncharted island? Top that.

At the wood framed door, Crowe knocked and was admitted by the doorman. A tall, smooth looking man who radiated professionalism. “Good day, Sir. I am Mister Crowe, and I wish to speak on the subject of your Lady’s upcoming voyage. May I have the honor of entrance to this fine home?” He spoke smoothly with volume and confidence, wanting to make a good strong first impression.

After being admitted to the rather grand home, the servant lead him down to Miss Wright’s study and open the finely crafted door for him. She seemed old and at least a bit grizzled, but her eyes had a keenness about them that lent him, at least, confidence in her plan. After entering he gave a nod and approached her desk. “Maddam Wright, I am Mister Crowe, a resident of Zeltiva. And wish to speak to you on the subject of your voyage.” He said. She said nothing at first, staring him up and down for a moment before gesturing for him to sit. He complied with a gentle slide into the chair in front of her desk.

”There is only one question that I want to ask,” she said, once introductions had been made. ”Why would you possibly want to follow an old woman to a cursed island, from which no one has returned?”

Crowe only thought for a moment before answering. “Because there must be something worth keeping secret on that island, if no one has returned. I intend to find it.” He flashed her a white smile. Rubbing his hands together slowly he stared across the desk at her for a moment. “You know, obviously there is danger, but you know that if you are spear pointing the expedition. Like you, I believe, my curiosity has gotten the better of me.”

[Iskessah]

59th Winter, 512 Iskessah huddled against the chill Zeltiva wind, pulling her leather coat tighter around her torso. There was room left for only one thought in her head. She had to make it up this path. There would be warmth at the end of this path, she promised herself. By the time she reached the house itself, she was so sluggish she could barely move at all. But she managed to get inside while still conscious, and as soon as she was inside, the cold wind was cut off, and she began to recover herself. She hissed irritably at the human who ushered her into another room, but when she felt the heat from the fire-place blooming across her skin, she forgave him instantly. She basked in the glow long enough to wake up fully, though she still relaxed deeply into the chair. As the woman asked her question, Iskessah remembered what had brought her here in the first place. Since coming to this ridiculously freezing city, she had learned to confine herself indoors to warm areas. But it didn't take long for her to start feeling cooped up, and even more stuck than she had when she'd had a whole city to roam. When she overheard rumors of an impossible quest, a fools errand, really, she could almost hear Joshry's voice, an echo of when she'd last seen him, telling her that she had to go on this quest, for adventure, for Rhysol, whatever excuse he could use to get her to stop standing still and find a purpose to cling to. She finally answered the old woman's question. "Because I have a--" pet, "--friend who would want me to." She though of everything she had been through in the past few days and added, "And anywhere mussst be better than here." Warmer too.

[Besnik]

Besnik 58th of Winter, 512 AV ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Whispers of rumour had been breezing through the streets of Zeltiva for the entire time Besnik had been in the city. The canine had spent the majority of his time roaming the seaside city when not in the surrounding area hunting. Thus, he had spent many a day resting in the shadows, concealed in a crevice many wouldn’t even consider looking in. From his position he was able to hear a lot of gossiping citizens talking about the latest waves of excitement hitting the city, especially when unnoticed in his dhole form. Not many would automatically suspect that a creature who for all intents appeared to be a street dog was capable of understanding their conversation. There was an adventure brewing, that much the Kelvic knew; to an island, some dangerous place that few seemed to know much about. Intrigued, Besnik had actively sought out those who seemed to know about it, finding out by these methods the location of the home he was supposed to travel to. The expedition sounded perfect for one who’d spent his life travelling around. He had few skills to boast of, yet he was more capable at surviving in the wilderness than a lot of those used to city life. Though he adored the people he’d met along the streets and out in the forest, he found himself yearning to explore. For once though, he had set out with intent to return. Besnik stood, the appearance of a young man with red hair that seemed to swirl with its multiple hues of oranges and browns, trailing off at the nape of his neck in a few hairs of pure black. His clothing was simple, a mere loose fitting fabric shirt and trousers, faded after so much wear, and a simple pack was slung on his back with only basic supplies in it. There was no falsity in his look; what you saw was what you got, and he knew little of status nor of how his dress could potentially be deemed rude. He pushed through the gates and headed along the pathway lined with bare trees. His pace was steady with the practise of an animal trailing a scent for hours, as he trekked the half a mile to the entrance of the grand house. There were scent trails surrounding the building, both old and new, mingling with purposes the canine would never know. He was met and moved quickly through the building to a warm room, the temperature difference appreciated as a contrast to the cold air his clothes barely protected him from outside. His gaze moved about the room as he sat down, both intelligence of a man and curiosity of a pup held in his wide brown eyes, until he finally settled on looking at the woman sat in the other of the two chairs. Charm, her name was, and her keen eyes settled on him in a way that showed there was to be no messing around. The usually excitable canine was strangely more subdued than was normal, most likely due to being in unknown territory and focused on being accepted so as to go exploring once more. Besnik’s answer to her question was a simple one. “I wouldn’t deny the chance to explore a new place,” his warm voice hid nothing, honesty his only wish to express, “I’m used to travelling, and being in one place for so long has me restless. I heard rumour of your expedition, and it sounded like a good aventure.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ||Besnik|| ||3 years|| ||Kelvic|| ||Bondmate - Valo||

[Red]

45th of Winter, 512. Red’s breathing was even and light as he strode along the path, his chest expanding and contracting in a steady rhythm with each inhalation of fresh, invigorating air that rushed down into his lungs. He was able to make this little journey without any true exertion as he often preferred to shanksmare it rather than use the horse which Thohorn had advised him to purchase a while back. The damned thing didn’t like him, and he didn’t like it. He liked to think they had a mutual agreement to respect each other’s personal space, and they had an uneasy pact that they held to, as well. The horse with no name, as Red refused to give the demonic beast one, was to carry his packs, tent and other heavier gear that Red couldn’t be bothered to lug around. In return, Red would feed the damned thing and be safe in the knowledge it wouldn’t try to trample him as he slept. There was a lot to say about peace of mind when it came to one’s slumber. Granted, most people would question whether a man with the intention of going to Darva had a mind at all, for surely he must have lost it somewhere, along with his common sense. Nobody ever came back from that accursed isle, and it was for that very reason that nobody ever went to the damned place. You may as well jump off a cliff, they told him when he’d asked about it. You’d have about as much chance surviving such a dive as you would surviving Darva. Not that that had deterred Red in the slightest. Oh no, not him. The more he heard of this island with its mysterious legend of figures in the trees, fires upon the shore and the sound of drums, the more he couldn’t wait to go see it. It made his heart pump faster just thinking about what such a place might be like. Imagine it! An island untouched by outsiders for who knows how long, populated by Gods knew what, with secrets to uncover and terrain unmapped by any man. If there was anywhere in the world that Red could find the thing he’d been searching for, for so long, it was Darva. And so he found himself making the trek along the pathway to Charm Wright’s residence, his long legs allowing him to eat up the distance with little hassle. Still, it was no short stroll and he was curious as to why she was holding the..Meetings? Interviews? Whatever you might call them, Red would have liked to know the exact reason why she was having them at her own house rather than the Guild Hall where she would likely have a much more impressive platform to evaluate her crew mate’s worth. Perhaps she intends to weed out those that can’t even be bothered to make the walk up to her house. Bound to be a lot of spineless daydreamers and unfit gloryhounds that think they can go off chasing power and untold riches on some dream island. Best to have them fall here where they can’t drag us down in a life or death situation. Then again, maybe she reckons inviting them to her own home for a cup of tea will put them at ease and foster some trust. , he thought to himself idly as he the house began to come into view. Though house wasn’t exactly the appropriate word for such an impressive dwelling. The Wright family evidently weren’t short on Mizas. Not that he’d expected such, from the sister of the woman who’d sailed around Mizahar. He rapped his knuckles against the door soundly, settling back to wait for someone to come and permit him entrance into the house. He did not have to wait long before a man he assumed was a servant opened the door to him and asked his business. With an easy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, Red raised a gauntleted hand at the older gentlemen, saying, “Hello there, friend! I’m here to ask about yon voyage to Darva that I’ve been hearing about, if you don’t mind.” With a curt nod, Red was escorted through the house swiftly, leaving the former pit fighter barely any time to admire the rich surroundings before he was shown into a room that was, at least to him, quite breathtaking. His earlier notion of her attempting to put potential allies at ease seemed silly when faced with such an imposing room. The heat from the fire washed over him in a pleasant wave as it crackled merrily before two very comfortable looking leather armchairs. What really drew his attention, though, was the sheer amount of books that lined the walls of Charm’s study, who resided in the armchair to Red’s left, a faintly amused twist to her lips as she watched him gawk at the literature for a moment before gesturing for him to sit. The array of books was astounding. The sheer money required to amass such a collection alone would let a man live a good, long life, not to mention the knowledge she must possess if she had actually read them all and they weren’t for show. Small wonder she had insisted on meeting applicants here, for it was quite the impressive room. Though he had to admit, as he leant back into the armchair, it was a rather comfortable place. Turning his attention from the books to their owner, Red’s face lit up with a rueful grin, the young man gesturing at the shelves with his right hand. “Sorry. I’m not used to seeing books, never mind so many in one place. You must be a clever lady after reading so many. Oh.” He leaned forward, extending his hand towards Charm and saying, “I’m Red, by the way. Pleasure to meet you, miss Wright.” Settling back into his seat after the handshake was accepted, he listened to her refreshingly simple answer, and took but a moment to think before he replied. Lips turning up at the corners in a small, warm smile, the young crimson-haired man answered, “I could tell you that I want to further the knowledge of man by conquering and mapping out this island, or I could say I’m here for riches and glory and the like, but to be honest miss Wright, I’m not that kind of man. Glory isn’t my thing any more.” He rubbed at the sanguine patterns dyed onto his skin, the gesture absent minded. “I want to go for the same reason I’ve been wandering from place to place with my companions. I’m looking for..Something. I don’t claim to know what it is, or where it is, all I know is that I have this sense of there being a big, gaping hole in my life that I need to fill. I just need to find the thing that’s made to fit.” He paused, then flashed her a quick, charming grin. “I guess finding a proper name for myself would be nice too, but I’m not sure if there’s anyone there to give me one I’d much like. Oh. And there's a few of us total in our little group but I'm not sure how many are up for going. You've definitely got me on board, though, if you'll have me. ”

[Miles]

Miles found the cottage without much a problem. The chance to seek knowledge drew him, or rather intrigued him to the point of motion. He fought with himself for a day before working up the courage to take the first step. But once that first step was taken...

Feeling like an intruder, he entered the house quietly- that is without grandeur. He hadn't a clue of who this woman was, but had an idea of her wealth from looking into her home. After entering and being ushered- by what he figured was a guard, or a steward- he concluded that only powerful and extremely wealthy people lived in obscurity and invited strangers into their sanctum. The book collection intrigued him, and he might have spent the day admiring the knowledge trapped within them if there wasn't a larger task at hand.

He smirked as he imagined mercenaries of East street here, mucking and sliming up the place, it was then that he wondered just how far the rumors traveled- what type of people had been here before, and would be here after him. It was during this train of thought that he was drawn back to the present when the question: ”Why would you possibly want to follow an old woman to a cursed island, from which no one has returned?”
Cursed Island? CURSED ISLAND? His mind went in a thousand directions- 900 of them involved immediate and irrevocable fear. He wondered what would happen, what would befall him, what he would learn, what this would do to enrich his life- even if it was cut short by the "Cursed" part.

Miles allowed a second of hesitation and stated- "Life without risk is art without color. I will do this, because now that you've told me, I couldn't bare living with the question 'what could have been' buzzing around in my head. I will learn- one way or another, I will." He sighed with that last remark, seeing it chiseled on his grave stone. Here lies Miles Muround- At least he learned. It would be better to die in the pursuit of knowledge than in any other way- thievery gone wrong, dueling, war, disease, none compared. Steeling himself for the best and worst scenario, Miles awaited her answer and went idly back to perusing her book shelf.

[Tamyriel]

45th of Winter, 512

Adventure. The word hung on the dewy air like a slithering viper, weaving in and out of Tamyriel’s thoughts while whispering poison sweet encouragements in her ear, all while its fangs hid just below the surface to strike if one was not properly prepared. She knew the song and dance well, craved it, sought it out even. The more dangerous, the better the story, if they made it out alive that is. Adventure. The tiger tasted the word on her lips like it were the sweetest wine.

Unable to keep the smile off of her face, the Kelvic was lightly jogging up the path past the impressive gates. Enjoying the chill morning air that set the light coat of sweat down her back to ice as she jogged. When one of her companions, Red, had told her of the opportunity, Tamyriel knew she wouldn’t let the chance pass her by for the world. An expedition to the uncharted island of Darva. A place so dangerous none who braved it before lived to tell the tale. What a tale it must have been in that case, and she vowed to be part of the group who would bring the stories of success back to the mainland. Just thinking of what wonders they might see, what dangers they might overcome and what secrets that old island must hold, sent a shiver of unadulterated delight down her spine.

Long waved hair glinted auburn and orange gold in the morning light, the long tresses untamed and trailing behind her as she picked up speed. Her lips curled in a smile of pure delight, and her eyes ablaze with excitement. Tamyriel had not particularly dressed up or down for this occasion, though, as she reached the impressive house steps, she wished that she had finery in the first place to have even thought to do so. When a servant came to greet her, Tamyriel gave a small curt bow and offered what she thought to be her most winning smile. Despite her fangs, the servant seemed to be unnerved and awaited the Kelvic to tell him why she was there. Though as visitors had been showing up all morning, he had a fairly good idea as to why.

“Well met friend. I am here to meet with Dame’ Wright about the Darva Expedition?” The tiger offered, shifting between her feet and smoothing out her blouse while she awaited positive response. When it was granted, the Kelvic broke out into what looked like a more natural smile, following the manservant. While they walked through the rather grand living arrangements, Tamyriel watched the man’s back and studied his scent, piecing together a story for him in her head, and quietly wondering how close she was to the real thing. It was an activity she found almost as pleasing as hearing real stories, making up these little tales about strangers, and one she did quite often, whether in her head or whispered to a companion.

When they entered the study, a bludgeoning force slammed into her chest without warning, faced with a collection that would put most village libraries to shame, Tamyriel was jealous. How much knowledge, and how many stories were hidden in those old pages. Thousands upon thousands she was sure. What made this room all the more saddening to the Kelvic was not so much that she could ever hope to amass such a collection in her own lifetime, as she was saddened and humbled to know that even if she could.. She would not be able to read a sentence of it. This seemed to somber the young woman, her smile fading as she let herself be lead to a rather comfortable chair. Snapping out of it the tiger let the warmth from the fire seep into her bones and warm her out of the harsh reality as she met her eyes with that of the old woman's. “It is a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Wright,” Tamyriel said lightly, saying it just as Thohorn had instructed her prior. She must seem polite yet capable. “I am part of the group who you have undoubtedly already met a member or two, one man who refers to himself as Red, and so clearly fits the title? And another man whose head skims the sky, Thohorn, perchance?.”

After a few bouts of small talk, Charm Wright posed to her the same question she had likely asked so many others, Tamyriel’s lips curled into a warm and pleased smile. “I am seeking my story.” She said simply, folding her hands into her lap as she tilted her head at Charm. “It is a land undiscovered, with stories and legends that no one has lived long enough to add to the living traditions. I want to be one of the first to go and collect those stories and make my own. It is dangerous I know, but every good story needs the uncertainty that everything turns out alright in the end.” The tiger cast her eyes around at the collection of books that surrounded them, like mocking motivators, the orange under cast colour in her hair igniting in the firelight, her hand absently moving up to stroke on the thick waves thrown over her shoulder. “A woman who cherishes the written word as much as you so clearly do, must have a story or two to tell.” She met Mrs. Wright’s eyes, the gold colour purely molten in the heated air that hung between them. “I’m now hoping that if I follow you.. I might get to hear one or two of them as well.” Tamyriel smirked. “ An adventure. That’s why I am willing to risk my life and join this expedition, will you let me?”

[Lucas Arias]

Lucas strode into the study confidently, his head held high, as if he were a knight, a well known adventurer, a veritable giant rather than a young man who was shorter than a lot of girls. He was dressed in his best clothes that day because he wanted to make a good impression on Charm, and he had a sword at his belt. He’d been getting tired of the university recently. He enjoyed studying - and teaching - but he missed the fun he had in Nyka. He even missed the knights of Syliras. He needed a break, and this expedition was the perfect opportunity.

As his gaze fell on the books, he stopped for a moment, and his eyes widened. He took some time to look at their titles before he sat down opposite of Charm. „You have a lot of books“, he remarked. „How long did it take you to get them all? Would you ever allow me to read them?“

„I’m Lucas by the way“, he introduced himself and then he proceeded to answer her question. He was very relaxed, as if he were talking to an old friend rather than in a job interview.

„I’ve already been to cursed places and left with both my life and my sanity intact“, he pointed out and shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact that nobody had ever returned from the island. „I’m confident in my ability to survive. I fought in the tournament in Nyka and succeeded against all odds. I survived the Aperture and the great djed storm. Besides, I have an ace up my sleeve.“ He pulled the sleeve in question back to reveal Kelwyn’s mark. „This will save us if worse comes to worst.“

„As for my reason to follow you to that island, I’ve always admired Kenabelle Wright. She was the hero of my childhood. I always wanted to be like her when I grow up … well, not exactly like her“, he corrected because he had no wish to be a girl. „You are her sister, and you are pretty awesome as well. I don’t care about money or anything, but I would do anything to go on an expedition with one of the Wrights.“

„So what do you say?“

[Hadrian]

23rd Winter, 512 A.V. The long trip to Sahova and back had taken a great deal out of Hadrian. There had been illness, several near misses with overgiving, strange dreams that twisted his dreamwalking, orphans who needed his help, riots, and killer golems, Nuits and... well, Mizahar was, as everyone said, a dangerous place. He was not the whip-smart boy who had come to Zeltiva all those years ago to study. He was older now, a professor in his own right, a magecrafter in secret, though it was an open secret, caring for the orphans to Lord Maria's design. The djed storms in Avanthal had activated whatever Vantha blood there was in his blood, brightening his eyes to eerie effect, streaking dark blue through his dark hair. He looked different now from everyone else. The outside finally matched the inside. But he was tall, whip-thin, and well-dressed, at least. He bowed to the old woman with all the etiquette he had learned at his mother's knee in one of the more opulent homes within Syliras. "I confess, madam, that I have not come to join you in your adventure, though at another time, with fewer responsibilities, I surely would. But I have students and orphans to care for. My work is here, and I cannot afford another sabbatical so soon. But I trained as a magecrafter under Professor Stonemiller and Professor Nightshade. I'm in negotiations with the Sailors' Guild to create items to strengthen the fleet," the which she might know as a Wright, "and I was wondering if there was aught I could create for you, to help you be prepared for, well, the unknowable." That wasn't entirely true; there might have been Konti seers predicting what they would find on Darva. Hadrian did wish he could be involved, though, and this seemed to be the only way he could participate. So be it. The Sailors' Guild would pay him whether the item in question went on the voyage to Darva or remained on one of the more local ships.

[Liminal]

Kenneric:

Charm looked the well-dressed, but still gangly young man up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance. She tried to remember being his age, having that feeling that curiosity and discovery would bear one through every trial. Of course, by the time Charm was in her mid-teens, she'd seen her beloved sister return home, heavily weighed down by the suffering and death that she'd seen on her voyage. By the time she was in her early twenties, Kena was gone, and Charm was well into her apprenticeship. Charm had resolution in spades, but all the naivete had been beaten out of her early. Nonetheless, this Crowe fellow would probably be a good addition to the crew. She needed some optimism, some youthful vigor, someone who would help keep things going without the sheer lunacy of the whole affair weighing him down. It would be far too easy for this voyage to degenerate into an overlong funeral cortege. Perhaps this man could help prevent that. Charm smiled at him; she was a bit of a rarity in that most of her teeth were still her own. "Very well then, Mr. Crowe. Meet me at the docks on the seventy-fifth, and bring with you the gear that you'll need. I'm happy to have you." She stood, retrieving a sheet of paper from atop the mantle. "This is a contract for the voyage," she said. "It entitles you to a share of anything that we might find, and holds my estate not liable should you not return. If you'll sign this, it will be official."