[Rearing Stallion] Half-Formed Plans (Aren)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

27th Summer, 510 A.V. Disheartened, Sam had decided to pad his savings with those of someone else. He walked along like he was going somewhere, when really he was just keeping an eye out for likely targets. He was tall already for his age, having grown high and skinny like a weed, so he slouched a bit rather than be picked out from the crowd himself. Dark eyes settled on a man stumbling out of the Rearing Stallion, who wobbled over toward an alley, which he apparently thought was home. Glancing about casually to make sure nobody else shared his bright idea, Sam slipped into the alley himself. The man was still on his feet, which surprised the would-be thief, so he ducked into a shadow and watched the man pull his pants back up and totter a few steps to the side from the wet stain of his urine before falling over, dead to the world. Sam crept carefully out of hiding and up to the prone man, who had settled on his back, arms akimbo and mouth wide open as he snored contentedly. The young anti-Drykas smiled happily because this wouldn't require any sort of violence if he was careful about it. Crouching down beside the man, he rolled him over onto his side so he would not drown in his own vomit should he do so in his unconscious state. Happily, this good deed was rewarded. In turning him over, his money purse was revealed, the which Sam untied and attached to his own belt. "Thank you for the drinks, sir. I appreciate the sentiment. I hope you will be very comfortable here." He grinned, stood, and walked out of the alley without any fanfare. For the moment, he couldn't remember why he had started off so despondent. Now he had someone else's money to spend on drinks, so he walked into the Rearing Stallion himself.

[Aren]

Aren was heading to the Rearing Stallion for some stale human drink after his little escapade with Reimancy, when he happened to see a drunk heading into a dark, unfriendly alley. It was something which the Akalak imagined occurred rather frequently, and as such, unworthy of much attention. It wasn't until he noticed another man which seemed to be following the first -although perhaps follow was too strong a word- that he started to pay attention. It was dark, and the man was a good distance away, but the peculiar vision shared by all Aren's race allowed him to see this second alley-visitor clearly. Of course, he couldn't actually tell what was going on within said alley, but there weren't too many possibilities. As one of the men emerged, looking rather self-satisfied, the Akalak's mind went to one of the more stomach wrenching possible conclusion for his incursion. He headed back into the Rearing Stallion, from whence he seemed to have come, and was through it's doors long before Aren was even near enough to get a decent look without having to use his infravision. Taking a slight detour into the alley to check on the drunk, the Akalak was relieved to see the man was alive... if utterly disgusting. Murder, help, and pleasure almost certainly eliminated, that left only larceny. Helping to support this theory was the fact that the poor bastard seemed to have been relieved of his money. Now, it wasn't unusual for a drunk leaving a bar to be devoid of any coin, but assuming he hadn't carried said coins in with his bare hands, the unlucky sap had even been relieved of the pouch he kept them in. With a slight smile, Aren turned around and headed to his original destination: the Rearing Stallion. As he entered, he spotted his thief buying himself a drink, likely with his ill-gotten gains. Taking a seat at the bar, next to him, the Akalak motioned the bartender, "I'll have the most expensive thing you've got... on him." Aren pointed his thumb at the young man next to him, his large blue frame and massive scythe (strapped to his back) cutting an impressive, if somewhat humorous, figure. Humans stools, it seemed, were simply not built with Akalaks in mind.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam blinked and stared at the blue man sitting next to him, but the knowing look in his eyes and the arrogance with which he put himself on Sam's tab could only mean one thing: he had missed a pair of eyes upon him for all his attempts to be discreet. With a short sigh, he nodded to the bartender and held up two fingers to double his order. In no time at all, they both had an ale in front of them. He waited until the bartender was out of earshot and busy with another customer before speaking. "I tipped him over so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit," he said. There was a keen sense of balance to his code of morality, even if it seemed lacking to other people. "Anyway, the Stallion had already beggared him." At least Sam wouldn't be responsible for the inebriate's headache on the morrow, only his lack of breakfast funds, and in that he was an accomplice of the tavern and the man's own thirst. If he sounded sullen, it was only because he had apparently overestimated his own abilities. A theft was no good if you were seen. One had to be blocks away before anyone noticed something was amiss and one's face not even registered in anyone's mind. Ah well, perhaps if the blue man got drunk enough, Sam could lift a few coin off of him while he slept it off in the alley too. Sam was glad the Akalak was seated, though. Between his scythe and the height his race was known for, he probably would have intimidated Sam otherwise. Sam, who wasn't short for his own race, didn't particularly like it when people towered over him.

[Aren]

Aren promptly put his hand up, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, I'm not a knight." Besides that, the Akalak had an odd way of looking at larceny. To him, it was a job like any other. If you did it right, you got paid, if you did it wrong, you didn't. Of course, if you did it wrong, you might find yourself running for your life... but that might also count as an added health benefit, as long as you didn't get caught. As a trade off, at least the money was tax free. "Just keep your hands to yourself around me and you won't create a need for me to separate them from your body," Aren coldly stated, looking rather serious and sounding all matter-of-factly. After a few moments, however, he couldn't maintain the pose any longer and an impish smile broke out on his face. Finally taking a swig of the ale his "generous" acquaintance had provided, the Akalak mused that perhaps his taste buds simply weren't suited for human drink. "Bah, does everything you people put in your mouth have to taste like glassbeak pi--" he had almost begun to rant, when the bartender came around for another pass. After a well timed cough, Aren glanced at the young man siting next to him, "So, what's the name of my benefactor?" Though cognizant of the fact that his "benefactor" was practically blackmailed into generosity, Aren couldn't help but prod him for some identification, at least.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Sam," he said grudgingly. It didn't seem like the Akalak warrior was going to give him any trouble, but one never knew. The elders of his pavilion had always warned that Akalaks were prone to violence, but he had only been seven when the pavilion was destroyed so he might not have remembered it all correctly, or only through a childish memory. "And you?" he asked. He didn't think it bold or impertinent. They were drinking together, though, even if the Akalak had pushed himself upon Sam. There should be some degree of amicable relations between them, otherwise it was bad luck, he thought. If he refused to play, then Sam would just call him Mysterio the Grim Reaper and at least one of them would be entertained. He sank the ale without qualms, but he had never been rich and so his tastes were cheap, except where women were concerned.

[Aren]

"Aren," the Akalak replied in turn, happy to oblige. "But you know, you should really work on your, huh..." he made sure that pesky bartender wasn't close enough to make out what they might be talking about, "...clandestine dealings." Aren didn't really know anything about that, but he knew that a knight wouldn't have been as understanding if they had caught Sam in the act so plainly. "Just a word to the wise," he stated, shrugging off the entire event a moment later. Looking at his drink, at these strange surroundings he found himself in, Aren was suddenly reminded of Riverfall. "I miss home..." he whispered, clearly saddened by the thought, "...it's been so long." Probably longer than Sam was old. It was odd, though, he had been in away for a long time, and yet he had never felt the desire to return. Perhaps near a week in isolation and solitude had done more of a number on him than he thought.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"It's not really my day job," he admitted. "More of a skill that I acquired by necessity that I'm trying to keep up because... well, you never know." He drank more ale, washing down some of his defenses. Glancing at the strange, tall, blue man as he admitted being homesick, Sam bit his tongue for a moment, then sighed, shrugged and nodded. "I know how you feel, man," he admitted. "I miss home, too. But home doesn't exist anymore. Still... maybe it's time to go back to what's left." He paused, corner of his lips quirking up with wry humor as if to shield himself from scary thoughts. "See if anyone there still wants me." Is that what he had been waiting here for? Waiting for Endrykas to be in its summer spot, closer to Syliras than at any other time of year? Was he just waiting for himself to come around? It was difficult to say, and he didn't know what had become of Lillis, his friend the fortuneteller. "If I were to say I'd see you to Endrykas," he began, half-joking, "would you want the company? The Sea of Grass is dangerous."

[Aren]

Aren eyed the young man sitting next to him, "Believe me when I tell you that I know just how dangerous that place is," he muttered, keenly aware of the dangers of the Sea from personal experience. That wasn't exactly odd, however, as every Akalak knew it's dangers, and many had gotten more than close enough to be intimately familiar with it's stench. Aren gave Sam the ol' once over, attempting to gauge the fitness of his would-be traveling companion. He looked like a strong, healthy lad, if nothing else. If he was willing to brave the Sea of Grass for a sentimental trip back home, he likely knew how to defend himself to some degree, at least. He did look a little skinny and flaccid to Aren, but Akalak physical standards were difficult to live up to. All in all, there were certainly worse people to be crossing the Sea of Grass with; he could have been a singing charoda or something, after all. "But, I suppose now might be as good a time as any to make the trip,"Now seriously thinking the idea over, Aren also realized that having someone to make the trip with was not an unwelcome prospect, either,"And, company is always appreciated."

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Assuming Aren would decline, Sam almost began to bristle at the measuring look. He had never lived up to his own expectations, and other people adding their own to the mix never sat well with him. But against all odds the Akalak agreed. Was he joking? Sam blinked. "I... really?" After a pause, he undid the leather cuff from around his left wrist and showed him the intricate windmark there. It was just the seed mark, which should have grown up his arm and across the rest of his body like an inked cartography of his life and times. Small though it may have been, it would guarantee them safe passage, at least with the human inhabitants, through the Sea of Grass, and likely rest and shelter with any pavilion they might encounter. "My pavilion is gone," he said quietly, "but this might make me more useful on the way. I have a bow and my scimitar. I fight better from horseback, so it's good I have a horse..." Was this really happening? He felt a sense of elation even at the idea of it, something he never would have expected.

[Aren]

Aren smiled at the young human sitting next to him, "I'm sure it'll be an interesting trip." And hopefully, they wouldn't run into any nasty, over-sized birds on the way. Of course, the chances of that probably weren't too good; those damn glassbeaks were everywhere in the Sea of Grass. "Your pavilion? Is that your family, your clan?" He didn't really know much about humans, and even less about specific human tribes. To him, Sam looked pretty much like every other human he had met, though Aren was aware that they were so populous that they were spread out all over the place, in stark contrast to his own people. "So, do you have a particular day in mind, or is this a "whenever" type of thing?" The Akalak asked because he still had business to finish in Syliras, mostly involving one particularly strange and foolish Knight. Other than that, nothing kept him here. Some humans were damn odd, and most seemed far too soft to him.