Completed Sour Luck

[Savio]

Savio followed closed behind the man, looking around at his surroundings so that he could remember the route for the next time he had to come through this part of the Quarter. Nyka was very different than back home. Everything was so spread out and there were so many buildings and roads. It was a wonder that anyone found their way around here!

His attention would occasionally slip back to Devlin. The man was a snake, metaphorically speaking. Syliras had her own con men so Savio had learned what they were like, and Devlin was no different. The way he scanned the crowd suggested that he was already looking for his next score. The man was a little smaller than Savi, by about an inch with an even smaller body frame. He didn’t look like he had done an honest day’s work in his life. And unless Savio was mistaken, the man looked proud of what he does.

Savio snorted at Devlin’s request, and even rolled his eyes. “I would be doing this city a service if I didn’t teach you.” Savio fixed his eyes on Devlin’s, showing that even though his tone was light, he was completely serious. “If you knew how to free run, you could have gotten away from me. What would the common man do if you had to escape from him for stealing from him or conning him out of his hard earned mizas? Hm?”

When Devlin showed Savio to the door to the addressee, Savio stepped forward and knocked on the door. A lovely young woman answered, she looked stressed and tired. Savio offered her a wide smile as he spoke in a cheery tone. “Delivery for Miss Vedrana Zoric?”

Her eyes seemed to light up as she stepped out of her home and held out her hand to Savio. He fished the package out of his messenger bag and handed it to her. She pressed the payment into his hand. No tip. She then went back inside and closed the door, Savio having already been forgotten. He sighed and backed away from the door and walked over to Devlin.

“Today I have run into some sour luck. I mean, what else is going go wrong?!” Savio growled, mostly to himself but loud enough for Devlin to hear.

[Savio]

When Savio had fully focused, he then realized that Devlin was no longer there. In fact, the thief was nowhere to be seen. Savio sighed loudly and ran his fingers though his mussed dark brown hair. Great. Well, on a higher note the guy had guided him here.

Savio shook his head before taking off running once more in the direction of the Southern District. He had this last delivery and then he was done for the day. As he ran, he peeked inside his messenger bag to check the name. Žarko Jankovic. It sounded like another typical Nykan name. And Savio knew that he should never attempt to pronounce it before hearing it. He had gotten in trouble for that before as well. Nykans were touchy about everything it seemed.

He soon took to the roofs once more to avoid the steady traffic below. It was in short moments that Savio became focused. His footing and strides were calculated and well placed, and he had very few missteps. All that he could hear was the sound of his boots hitting the slated roof tops and his own breathing. The wind was blowing past his skin, tousling his hair like a lover’s caress.

This is what Savio loved most about this job. The focus and feeling of running and pushing himself. There was a certain therapy to running like this. He no longer felt home sick or alienated in a city full of strangers.

In a few chimes, Savio reached the end of the Eastern Quarter and dropped back down onto the street so that he could cross the bridge into the Celestial Quarter. He didn’t have to get back onto the roof tops again while in the Celestial Quarter, because all he had to do was run along the edge of the aperture until he got to the Lover’s Bridge.

It was named thusly because it was adored by loving couples. Savio’s face always turned beet red when he had to cross this bridge, and he always kept his eyes adverted from their cuddling forms or ignored the whispered “I love yous”. It was embarrassing and it reminded him of a certain black haired beauty that had slipped through his fingers.

In short moments, Savio had crossed the bridge and found himself in the Southern Quarter.

[Savio]

The Southern Quarter had a more lived in look that the other Quarters in Nyka. The Buildings were a little dirtier, and the smell of animals and farmland hung heavy in the air. For most people, that smell was retched, but it was comforting to Savio. It reminded of his home with his parents. Sadly, Savio was not able to come to this Quarter very often. His work rarely sent him over here and he currently was living in the Celestial Quarter. Unless you worked the farm land or you were a monk of Skerr, you had no real business in the Southern Quarter. Perhaps that was why the monks eyed Savio with curiosity and just a little bit of open distain.

Savio paused for a moment and looked at the address of the recipient of the package. It was out towards the fields, which meant that the addressee was a worker. Savio shrugged; at least it would be easier than searching for a house. The young man took a deep breath before continuing his running. Chances were that he wasn’t going to get a tip from this one either since it was unlikely that someone would bring too much of their Laats to work.

Savio ducked into an empty alley and carefully climbed up the side of one of the buildings. The stone used here in Nyka had wonderful grip spots that Savio could use to shimmy up the side of buildings, even if he wasn’t all too good at climbing. Once topside, Savio was able to get his bearings. He could almost see the gates that led out unto the fields. It looked like a good half a bell away though. Might as well get moving then.

Savio took off in a full sprint. His feet hitting the tile slats of the roofs as he ran. When he jumped from building to building, he even ventured to do a flip or two, just because he felt like it. He was proud of how far he had come in the ways of acrobatics. He was so focused on having fun that he didn’t notice the Monk of Skerr that had been also traversing the roof tops, if only as a guard.

At first, Savio didn’t even hear the monk call out to him. It wasn’t until he heard the rapid footfalls behind him that he took notice of a very angry monk chasing after him. Savio had seen the monks in Nyka in action, and it was a well-known fact that the monks were above the law that normally bound the common citizen. So naturally, Savio panicked and ran faster.

[Savio]

Savio cursed his horrid luck as he ran. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. But this had to take the cake in terms of his work luck ever. He couldn’t think of why the Monk would be so angry. He had made sure to avoid any religious buildings and he hadn’t caused any damage that he knew of. Did the monk seek to take Savio’s delivery? Savio surely hoped not, since he would his job if he lost a package!

Savio pushed himself harder and faster than he had ever gone before. But no matter how fast he ran, the monk was steadily gaining ground on the young acrobat. Savio was quickly losing energy, and his breathing was ragged. Even his legs ached and his side ached from a running stich. In no time at all, the monk was right behind him. Savio glanced behind and saw the angry glare of the monk as he raised his arm, holding a strange whip like weapon. The Monk of Skerr brought the whip down on Savio’s back with a loud snap. The metal points at the ends of each of the nine small whips that were bound together stuck Savio’s back, slicing though fabric and flesh.

The young man cried out in pure pain, losing his footing and rolling down the roof for the second time that day. This time he was unable to catch himself and fell to the ground below, but luckily he was able to think fast enough to hit the ground with his feet and then roll with the momentum so that he wasn’t hurt from the fall. Savio was gasping for air as he got back to his feet and started running again, this time on the ground. He could feel the warm blood drip down his back, and cause his shirt to stick to his skin.

He didn’t have to look back to know that the monk was still hot on his trail. He knew that he would never make to the fields like this. The other monks would surely join in on the chase and Savio could kiss his arse goodbye. So as a last ditch effort, Savio dodged into a small alley to climb back up onto the roofs in hopes to lose the monk. But like most of his day, it didn’t work out as planned. The monk was too close and Savio could feel the sting of the whip as it struck and wrapped around his ankle while he was attempting to climb the wall of a building.

The monk tugged on the whip and brought Savio down once more. Savio fell onto his stomach, winded for a short moment as the monk kicked him hard in his right side to roll him over. Savio cried out in pain as he complied, his wounded back pressing back into the rough dirt, making it sting all the more.

“Thought you could get away, thief?” The monk barked in the typical Nykan accent. But Savio could also see that the running had taken a toll on the much larger man. Now that Savio was no longer preoccupied with running, he was able to get a better look at the monk. The man was tall and the skin of his face was darkly tanned from possible hours spent in the sun. Most of his body was hidden by his Monk’s Habit, but Savio could tell that the man was rather largely muscular. During the chase, the cowl of the robes had fallen to expose the monk’s head. He face was hard, but he still looked young; perhaps a year or two older than Savio. The monk’s hair was also pulled back in a short, tight pony tail.

Savio gasped for air, but still managed to speak “A t-thief? I’m not a thief!” Savio couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The monk thought he had stolen something? Is that why he gave chase?

The monk narrowed his eyes and leaned down, grabbed Savio by the front of his shirt, picked up the young, and then slammed him into the wall like a ragdoll before pinning him there. Savio hissed in pain as the lashes on his back hit the rough wall. “Then why did you run if you were not guilty?” The monk’s voice was whispered and dangerous. Savio was petrified; his stone grey eyes were wide with his fear.

“Well Tiny, Did you expect me to just stop and have small talk with a massive armed monk who was charging at me?” The words had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. Why was it that when he was fearing for his life, his filter decides now of all times to disappear? Stupid, stupid, STUPID!

The monk narrowed his eyes with righteous rage before slamming Savio back into the wall once more before back handing him so hard that his head jerked to the left and his lip split. The monk then grabbed a hold of Savio’s messenger bag and yanked it off of him before tossing the young courier to the ground.

“Well let’s just see what you stole, shall we?”

Savio watched as the monk yanked the bag open and took out the package. The monk examined the packed with thoughtful eyes. But his eyes shot open wide when he saw the address card. “Where did you get this?” the venom in the man’s voice sent jolts of terror down Savio’s stinging back.

“I am a courier. I was in the process of delivering that when you started chasing me.” Savio answered with a shaking voice.

“How do I know that you are telling the truth?” The monk questioned.

Savio pointed to the messenger bag, there was the symbol of his employer on it. “T-that bag belongs to m-my boss. Inside, you will find a written note of passage that allows me to get into certain areas so that I can deliver to my addressees.”

The Monk instantly dug through the bag until he pulled out the note and read it quickly. The monk’s expression quickly changed to that of embarrassment. “Then why the petch were you running on the roofs?! Are you mad?” The monk shouted at Savio, but the terrifying aura around the monk had faded.

“It’s faster. I can avoid the crowded streets and see where I need to go better.” Savio replied, his heart was starting to settle back in place and had stopped trying to jump out of his chest. The monk blinked in silence for a long moment, Savio’s point seemed to make sense but the monk didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“Um… May I go deliver it now?” Savio meekly asked.

“No need. You already have.” The monk sighed as he took the package and tossed Savio back his satchel.

Savio caught the bag, but was confused. “I have?”

“I am Žarko Jankovic.” Was all the monk said as he stored the package away in his robes and walked over to Savio. He reached out to the other male, and Savio flinched away from the hand. The monk gave an annoyed sigh as he motioned with his hand that he was going to help Savio to his feet. Savio flushed slightly as he took the hand that was offered.

[Savio]

Savio blinked in surprise as he got to his feet, but hissed in pain as his back reminded him of the lashings, and his ankle also stung. Savio looked down and saw how the whip has also cut the skin to shreds. Savio flinched at the sight. It was even difficult to walk on the injured foot. The Monk looked uneasy.

“You shouldn’t have ran.” Was all he said to Savio as he walked over and allowed himself to be used a crutch. “But since you delivered my package, I will help you to the Great Infirmary.”

Savio was grateful as the monk led him back to the celestial quarter. The sweat and the dirt made his wounds sting terribly. But he kept the whimpers of pain silenced since it would damage his pride if this man learned of that his pain tolerance was low.

The trip to the Great Infirmary was slow and tedious, but the monk was surprisingly patient as he helped Savio along. They talked a little bit. Savio learned that the monk was obviously a native of Nyka, and had become a monk of Skerr only last year. The pride was obvious in the man’s voice. Savio also learned that the weapon that Žarko wield with such ferocity was called a Cat o nine tails.

Savio also got to speak a little about himself. He told the young monk that he came from Syliras, and he was in Nyka to find the Teacher named Ximal. (Which the monk didn’t know where he was either.) Savio also explained about his childhood growing up with his acrobatic friend. The monk seemed interested in Savio’s free running skills. He even offered a small compliment or two.

In the end, Savio found that the monk was rather likable if one looked past his hard exterior. In less than a bell, the pair had made it to the Infirmary. He escorted Savio inside and got a stern woman to help him with his wounds. Her name was Thera Vasta. It seemed that even the young monk was cautious around her; with good reason too. The female monk booked no nonsense.

She made short work of Savio’s wounds. Some of the slashes on Savio’s back had needed stitches and both the wounds on his back and his ankle needed to be washed thoroughly. The woman was skilled and precise, so that was a small comfort. But petch, she could do with a lesson or two on being gentle!

After Savio was mended, Žarko and him went their spate ways. He told Savio that he would keep an eye out for him, and inform his brethren that Savio would be using the roof tops of the Southern Quarter as means to deliver messages more efficiently, as long as Savio stopped if a monk called for him to, to verify his purpose. Savio found that to be an agreeable arrangement. He only wished that all the Quarters could make such arrangements.

Since Žarko’s package was the last delivery for the day, Savio limped back to the Post Office in the East Quarter to drop off his satchel for the day and then returned to the Safe Haven Hostel for some much needed sleep and food. Finally, his sour luck was over for the day.

[Balderdash]

Delicious rewards! Happy days and jubilation!

Skill	XP Awarded
Running	5
Climbing	3
Acrobatics	5
Persuasion	2
Intimidation	1
Observation	1

Lores: Nykans Like To Punch Things, Rooftops Are A Superior Mode Of Transportation, Pushed By Magic, Taking Care of Thieves The Nykan Way, Devlin The Slightly Insane Con Man, Lady Don't Give A Damn, The Lover's Bridge Will Give You Diabetes, Monk Attack!, Mistaken For A Thief, Oh Gods I'm Turning Nykan, The Pimp Hand Isn't So Fun On The Receiving End, Weapon of Skerr: Wheatwhip, Zarko Jankovich: Incredibly Ethnic Monk Of Skerr!, Monkish Sensibility

Items and Consequences: New acquaintence!: Zarko Jankovich. Savio is now on peaceful terms with most monks of Skerr. Some bitchin' back scars. They look like tally marks! Also a messed up shirt.

D'awww. Poor Savio. I just want to give him a hug. But he got a new friend! Eee!

If you have any questions or concerns about this grade, please PM me. A happy you is a happy Balderdash!