V. Spoils

After blood is shed, the vultures descend...

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Stretching northward along the coastline of the Suvan Sea, the Cobalt Mountains are the home of the Bronze Wood, numerous ruins, and creatures both strange and fantastical.

V. Spoils

Postby Razkar on July 21st, 2013, 8:22 pm

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Continued from here

6th Day of Summer
Half a mile west of the Sukina Geysers
15th Bell


He went from corpse to corpse and went about his grisly business, and he tried to block them out. He'd done it before, on battlefields and killing grounds back home, but... no slaves. No survivors. Myrians had no need of them, unless they were to be taken for sacrifice, and in that case they were gagged.

This was different, and as Razkar drifted around the clearing like some kind of wraith or tethered ghost, his hands moved surely and his eyes flickered from prize to prize... but he could not block them out.

The slaves were still crying, and no amount of bawling or hammering from Ekvan would fully quiet them.

"Quit, gods fuck all of you!" The barbaric bastard roared again and slammed his sword against the nearest cage with a deafening clang, sending a handful of slaves inside scurrying away from the place it impacted. "Any more of that and I'll start cutting off fuckin' noses, cocks and tit. Fuck knows you're still worth selling as long as you got yer fuckin' hands!"

Razkar pushed away the dark and seductive thoughts that whispered to him; not for liberty had they marched, but simple theft... and they were stealing whole lives. The thought of it was strange to him; he'd killed dozens in his life, maybe more than that, but... slavery? Bondage?

The Myrian sighed and crouched down over the latest cooling corpse, setting down a bundle of weapons he'd already looted. He'd only gone to the corpses of those he had slain, of course, abiding by that unspoken and ancient rule of battle and spoils that sound if you killed it, you were entitled to it.

And whatever else there was...

A Child of Myri before anything else, the first thing he did with each body was scalp them, drawing his kukri across their foreheads just below the hairline and then ripping the scalp clean away with strands of muscle and hair clinging to the bare bone.

Each one was carefully tucked away, and then he got to more... corporeal matters.

The Myrian went through the corpse's pockets, finding a handful of bronze, silver and gold in there. He knew from experience that sellswords were usually pretty good for mizas once they were stiff and dead; they didn't exactly believe in banks. He added the gold to his purse, the spoils of eight other dead men in there, then moved on... to...

"Hmm... not bad..."

He lifted up the short sword that Ardan had wielded, the boy's body now forgotten. His pockets had been emptied, his scalp taken... now only the metal he had swung had any meaning to Razkar. In the bundle next to him were two bastard swords, two short swords, a cutlass, a mace... even a crossbow from that very first kill he had made with his bow.

Spoils of war. You kill it, you own it.

The Myrian inspected the short sword with a critical and veteran eye. Well-maintained, overall, but... yes... not the best construction. Just one of tens of thousands of cheap, mass-produced swords cluttering up the market. Still, like all the rest, he'd be able to sell it for a few mizas.

He added it to the bundle and stalked over to the Dhani, triumphant smirk on his face. Usually Razkar tried to keep such... gloating, off his features, especially in these lands. But when faced with the corpse of one of the Ancient Enemy, cold and stiff and with agony still stamped on its face...

"You died far from the jungle, scum," he said, delivering a kick to the corpse after he'd taken the short, curved wakizashi that remained, the other one being broken by his ax. He kept talking as he went through its pockets. "Good. Maybe that means... you won't get to rest... and we have one less snake-shit soul to worry about..."

He gazed down with contempt at the hairless-skull, hands rifling through pockets until...

"Well, well, well..."

A heavier purse than expected, but then again, this was the leader, apparently. Razkar stowed it away and drew his gladius instead of his kukri for this one, grinning into the sightless snake eyes.

"Time to cut some steaks and sides, serpent," he whispered, questing fingers finding a nice soft point in the thing's arm... right above the elbow... his first piece to take home. "And I still need rations..."

Ten chimes later, and the horse was confused as to this new state of affairs.

It didn't seem that long ago he'd been clip-clopping along with his rider atop him, thinking not much of anything to be honest. He had a fairly decent life, though his master - who carried some strange piece of long metal and often hurt other two-legs - hadn't even bothered to name him. Then there was terror and confusion and blood and fear and...

Suddenly the horse was alone in the clearing, looking around at his brethren shackled to the carts, a few others walking around the clearing in similar disorientation... and then...

"Come here, my friend... easy, now..."

A dark-skinned two-leg. He was... approaching... with his hand out... and a thick, clanking bundle under his arm. He smelled of blood and death but he was not in a hurry, voice so soothing...

... as Razkar placed his hand against the horse's snout, and soulful brown eyes peered into his.

"Not going to hurt you, big boy. Just need your back and your strength, then we'll find you a good home." Razkar spent a few moments stroking and whispering to the horse, if only to put it at ease. He wouldn't try riding him, but the masses of pilfered metal and Dhani meat would need more than his strength. "Good horse... now, now... be calm while I deal with the others..."

Razkar turned around, hand looped through the horse's bridle as his gaze scanned around. His trio were doing much the same as him, flitting or stalking from body to body, but whatever they found was a mere bonus compared to what he had in his rucksack.

"Hear me!" He boomed, getting their attention and beckoning them over. "Time to get paid..."

One by one, the Kelvic, the ghost and the other Myrian approached him, and Razkar went through the bags of clinking gold the Smoker had given him that morning. There were five of them, one for each of his band... thought two would now be superfluous.

Razkar grunted. Gold? Superfluous? The words did not go together.

"Each have ninety gold miza." He said, passing a bag to each one as he walked in front of them. "But, because other two ran-" he looked around and raised his voice scornfully, just in case the cowards were within earshot. Silence answered him. Oh, well... "Then we have more to split."

He dropped one of the bags into his own purse, and the last one he split three ways, counting out thirty gold-rimmed coins into each of his peoples' hands until the purse was nothing but an empty cloth pocket with a drawstring.

Loot :
Sword, Bastard x2
Sword, Short x3
Sword, Cutlass
Wakizashi x2
Mace, Heavy
Crossbow, Light
X amount of Mizas from the pockets of the men Razkar killed
90GM from a bag of gold meant for Kyra/Daelyn, now taken by Razkar (second bag split between Kaie, Solin and Fubuki)
Horse

Note: Not sure exactly how this works, the spoils and whatnot, so I'm winging it. However, the 90GM fee is guesswork based on this thread I did, graded by Jackalope.


OOCHave at it, guys! Loot and pillage your weaselly lack guts out, to paraphrase a great and sexy man! As far as the looting goes, and the gold, I really don't know how it works. No dead man's going to need the weapons and the contents of their pockets, so feel free, I guess. As far as the payment for the job, I was allowed to roleplay thus far, and if I'm wrong, I'm sure the Grading Admin will correct me
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Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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V. Spoils

Postby Fubuki Kouri on July 22nd, 2013, 5:36 am

Fubuki Kouri




After following Solin and returning Razkar's hand ax. Kouri just sat there on the ground, drawing crude images on the ground with her soulmisting finger, her crimson eyes darted left and right to find Razkar doing something... odd, he was cutting the top head of the slavers' corpses and collecting them. Kouri tilted her head in curiosity, perhaps it was some Myrian thing to collect... head skin from their fallen enemies? It was most likely so, not that Kouri mind, these evil people didn't deserve any honorable death at all.

A heavy toll on her mind at the sudden revelation that they would not be freeing the slaves, Razkar didn't tell her about those stinky poos to be their new master once they killed the old ones. Kouri slammed her fist to the ground in not-so-silent anger and irritation. What... should I do... her crimson eyes glowed and a young man of Ekvan's company who just happened to be near her slowly edged away in fear. Kill them? Should I kill them? Kouri pondered on the matter and her mind concocted... something.

With than plan in her mind, Kouri stood up and floated to the spiritist responsible for her pain earlier, he was dead with his mouth full of blood thanks to Madame Kaie's deadly strike. "....." Kouri looked down with contempt and focused the soulmist in the tip of her high-heeled shoes, she lifted her right foot and... *SQUISH!* slammed down her shoe heels into the corpse's eyes, sickeningly sweet music emanated from his ravaged eye socket. Finished with spatting at this vile enemy.

Kouri searched for his pockets with her tendrils and found a leather pouch clinking with coins. She took it and made her way to the spiritist's wagon, multiple tendrils slithering around and searching the corpses for the familiar leather pouch filled with mizas, she got five so far, some filled some... lacking. It didn't really matter, Kouri didn't need physical sustenance but she developed a kind of... greed and a tendency for wealth hoarding driven by her wish to provide Rena, her beloved little sister, with everything she asked.

Kouri went inside the spiritist's wagon and sensed... "Ah..." ...soulmist, yes, good delicious soulmist. Guided by her instincts, Kouri spotted three glass jars filled to the brim with soulmist, most likely Declerk's. Looking at them as if she was a ravenous hungry beast, Kouri smashed the jars apart and absorbed them, moaning with a sound rather... unfitting for a little girl her age. Her wounded ethereal body was quickly restored to full strength and she sighed in contentment.

Taking her collected leather pouch, she went outside once more and began collecting back her daggers, joining them into two greater chakrams each made up of eight daggers. When Razkar called her along with the others, Kouri approached him, chakrams and leather pouches in tow. She received the pouch gladly and combined the extra thirty gold mizas to once pouch. Tying them all together in one tendril grab, Kouri was now carrying a bundle of leather pouches.

But then... a sinister smile combined with a deep frowned brow appeared on her face, she floated up to Razkar and inched closer to him, she then whispered her... 'plan' or more like ultimatum. "Razkar... tell those stinky poos to free the slaves or I. Would. Kill. Them. All..." She wasn't kidding, she would do it. In her eyes, Ekvan and his men were nothing more than pests deserved to be eradicated.

Loot :
Random amount of mizas (up to the ST to determine)
120 GM (90 GM + 30 GM)


OOCMore choices! Mwa ha h- *takes cover behind a wall*
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"common" | "vani" | thoughts

Important Note: I'm not accepting new threads unless I promised you beforehand, I'm sorry for any inconveniences caused.
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Fubuki Kouri
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V. Spoils

Postby Razkar on July 23rd, 2013, 2:50 am

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Razkar had already turn back to... Horse (yes, good enough name for the moment), when he heard... no... it was before that. A coldness that crept up his spine in a way mere weather never could; some feeling with sentience and will behind it, licking at his neck until he knew someone was there.

He didn't even need to turn around to know whom.

"Razkar... tell those stinky poos to free the slaves or I. Would. Kill. Them. All..."

Don't react. Don't panic. You do, and you're dead.

For once, Razkar decided to take the advice of that cynical, contentious little voice that seemed to occupy the back of his head. He'd seen Fubuki enraged before, mere nights ago, and knew then that this giggling little monster was possibly the most lethal creature he had encountered. Her skills with a blade were clumsy, sure, her movements mediocre at best.. but she had no skin to pierce, sixteen blades to wield and could fly.

And that was a few nights ago. Now, after seeing what she was capable of in a full-fledged battle, he knew he stood no chance against her... and she could carry out her threat.

The Myrian swallowed, trying to keep the sound quiet... and saw his options shrink and fade to one, desperate course.

"Fubuki..." He sighed, like a father with a child that just wasn't learning. "I do not have time for this."

And he walked away from her. He knew she would follow him, floating form trembling with outrage and frustration. Goddess, he could already feel her mind begin to fray, her sanity vibrate to the point of fracture; could picture her floating form drifting after him as her hair began to quiver and rise around her-

-following him to the dead spiritist.

"You take gold, girl," he said, walking swiftly, eyes scanning the ground, keeping her focused on him, "You took job and you say you do as I tell. You wet your blade in blood. You kill slavers. If that does not fill hole in you soul, not my petching fault. You follow orders. Orders are we go. We leave slaves to fucking Ekvan."

The venom he spat into the final words would get her attention, he saw sure, have her guessing even in her frenzied state where Razkar's loyalties lay. The Myrian made a show of pausing by the crossbowman he's already looted, running his hands over bare sheaths and empty pocket... eyes fixed on the quiver lying further away.

Next to the spiritist.

With a handful of strange, sickly-gleaming bolts inside.

They hurt her. They nearly killed her. If this goes bad and you want any chance...

"Not like it more than you, girl," he said with a sigh, getting back to his feet and peering into the back of the wagon. It was bare save for rations, stinking of the sweat from a dozen sellsword cooped up in there, under cover and cramped up for days. Nothing interesting in there... as he stepped closer to the quiver. "But I gave word. So did you. And if you do what you say you do? People who hire us? They hear. They come kill you."

The Myrian blinked, realizing exactly what he just said.

"... really kill you. I hear you have money out for you. Ah... you have bounty. Men who hire us? Have much more than fifty miza. Five hundred. Five thousand. Bring all scum like this-"

He kicked the dead and mutilated spiritist, noting how close the bolts were, tensing his hand out of sight by his sight, his knees, ready to drop if he needed to.

"-and they kill you. And sister."

On that word he turned on her, face calm and collected, stern and focused. Razkar would not show fear to her; she fed on it, he'd seen it before, and showing any crack in his visage would only goad the blackness in her to grow and swallow him whole. He needed to talk her down, if only to stop his life from getting much more complicated than it needed to be.

And not die. That, too.

"Think they not know about other girl? Plenty see you. I just hear, not see, but if someone like me, that no-one talk to, can know, think what they can know, them who pay for all knowing. You kill that fucking animal over there, and him men, and free slaves, and us... you kill never stop running. And, some day, they will catch you. Both."

He made sure the last words were perfect: they were the very tip of the spear in his thrust at her insanity, fixing his black orbs into her red ones and not looking away. Razakr tilted his chin a little, toward Kaie and Solin, still watching them by Horse, looking confused.

"Kill them, too, hmm? Because I stop you. That mean they will. Kill Solin? I think maybe you could. But Kaie?" His voice softened slightly, head tilting back down to stare at her under his inked and scarred brow. "Kill her, too? Girl who protect you. Who help you. Not like walking from this. Not like hearing what I hear now. But that is job; that is what we take pay... and you take pay, too..."

Razkar shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, knees ready to drop out from under him. He blinked and saw the future that might have to be-

Dropping down and snapping his hand around the nearest arrow - maybe two or three, it wouldn't matter - then jerking his arm to stab diagonally upwards into the girl's stomach, ripping the soulmist-augmented bolts through her stomach.

Razkar blinked again and it vanished; one slightly better replaced it, a tiny floating girl with blazing eyes and trembling locks of alabaster hair, spinning chakrams at her shoulders like iron familiars. He tiled his chin up and felt his gnosis begin to burn...

"Make right choice, Fubuki. Remember what I say before. You join to kill slaver; we kill slaver. Time to go home..."

OOCOK, guys, feel free to post your reaction to this. Fubuki, wait for Kaie and Solin to throw in their posts, then you can do the same. Oh, and- *hurls heavy and smashable things* I HATE YOU!
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
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V. Spoils

Postby Kaie on July 23rd, 2013, 4:55 am

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Finally the battle was over. Swords were drawn and arrows were pulled back upon a bowstring. Men and women had fought and died. Blood spilled across this ground that had over night become hollow to her. Oh, how sweet the wine of the enemy was. That watery red that littered the forest floor in pools and irregular streams that resembled human capillaries. Tendrils splitting like a delta before the ocean. Never had this Myrian seen so much beauty. Almost for a moment in that bloodshed, that purge in the name of Myri, Kaie felt as close to home as she'd been in some time. An ancient tradition had been carried on in the name of her kin. Suddenly, her sacrifices hadn't seemed so pointless.

Home. The nostalgia instantly reminded her of her gladius. The one she had so carefully stored before she took center stage. With Razkar, her employer, far off in the field still collecting his keep, Kaie made a hasty break for her beloved weapon. It was just where she had left it. Leaned oh so carefully against a thick tree trunk wedged between the thickets. A well hidden place. Relief flooded her as soon as she laid eyes on it. Never mind her pack and bow as nice as it was to see them present as well. Kaie returned her weapons to herself, bow and quiver strung across her back with her pack, gladius attached to the belt at her hip. Perfect. Now it was time to return to the field and claim her victims.

Exhaustion flooded her body the moment her brain recognized the end of conflict. Fatigue spread through her muscles like a plague, burning with soreness. Most of her slices had clotted as expected, though the one of her calf was still an angry red wound. The shallow holes in her torso weren't unbearable. When she got her hands on some bandages and salve she'd be just fine. Well aware of her surroundings, not just the dead around her, she made a point to keep herself from limping. Limping would be taken directly as a sign of weakness. A signal any sellsword would gladly take advantage of after watching what goods she collected from her kills. Ekvan and his men went about their business. Any eyes that settled on her were rightly ignored while she tended to her property.

Kaie went around from body to body, those only touched by her weapon and fist, searching them for valuables. The Myrian woman made her rounds, collecting both Mizas and weapons alike. She quickly noticed that the youngest seemed to have the least amount of cash on hand. Probably just kids who jumped on the bandwagon, literally, in hopes of earning more weight in their pockets. No matter. They were useless now. Next came the girl. Her body had been frisked long before she was dead. Probably by her killer. Much to Kaie's dismay, the body was useless and without any loot. The mace wielder though? Different story. He was the young exception to the rule and after the Myrian emptied his pockets, she took his mace and kept the spear from earlier. A bit farther off she could see Razkar. He was cutting bits from the fallen Dhani, reminding Kaie of a cultural tradition. Cannibalism.

In truth, Kaie hadn't really sat down on a whim and devoured another race's flesh on her own. Yet now that she was here making her pilgrimage for the sake of religious plundering and murder, how could she not obey the higher power's wishes? Being the one enemy who gave her enough to injure her, he was worthy. Crouching beside him, Kaie unsheathed her gladius and drew it down his sternum. She tore the still heart from the chest with her bare hands, bloodying them in the process. Then, cupping the warm organ in her hands like a feral child, she began her feast. The red waters from the streams of life were intoxicating to her. Already she was found she had that primitive Myrian taste for flesh. She realized then that men were just another breed of animal up for the slaughter. It was upon their hide she could feed as well.

Minutes later she had finished her looting in satisfaction for the weight of gold in her possession. Blood from her meal had left its residue upon the edges of her lips which she licked away in one slow swipe. The cries of slaves were a haunting, eerie symphony of misery. A musical production Kaie made a point of ignore. Chained men, women, and child whose most precious hopes for freedom once more went up on violent flames when Ekvan raised his voice. Kaie had looked at Razkar when that time had come, gauging his reaction. She remembered being impressed by his discipline and facade. Calm, cool, and collected. Unimpressed and unconcerned with external affairs. Whether he truly gave a wet shyke for the captives or no wasn't her business. Best not to ask. Call her cold and apathetic, but Kaie found little empathy for the slaves. It wasn't that she had no regard for life at all rather she couldn't afford to let such thoughts of sympathy disease her. In a sick sense, Ekvan's announcement had turned away other concerns she had. Initially her main concern was the possibility that Ekvan may betray Razkar or his team. Kill them off and take all the gold and glory for themselves. With the slaves their new priority? Kaie felt a huge weight off her shoulders. Her emotions were objective. She could tell that wasn't the same for everyone though...

As Razkar handed each their fair share, Kaie nodded her head in gratitude when the weight hit her palm. One hundred and twenty in gold to her name? Not a bad cut at all. She pocketed the earnings gladly.


Thank you, Razkar of the Shorn Skulls. It has been an honor fighting beside another Myrian in barbarian lands," She thanked him with a short nod of her head, sincere in their own language. After all, she owed him for this opportunity to give to the Goddess Queen. Not much else was more rewarding than such a task. Money was just a bonus. Feeling the power of the wealth, Kaie's amber eyes couldn't help but stray toward the cage Ekvan had pounded upon.

The slaves... If the sellswords had so much invested in them, if they were worth so much, why was she letting them have those assets to themselves? God damn barbarians. They could kill Ekvan and his crew, steal the cart, and sell the slaves for themselves. Split the profit. Earn. That's when the reality of her thoughts struck her like no mace could. Sell slaves? Kaie shook the thought from her head visibly with a deep displeasure in herself. Her morals might've been questionable at times but that? How dare she think such barbaric thoughts. She was a proud Myrian and follower of Myri. A member of the Cutthroat Shadows. A cannibalistic savage in the eyes of the barbarians. A warrior and a killer but not a slaver. That line she would not cross. Fists clenched at her sides for just a moment, staring at the cart. She so desperately wanted to destroy their hold. To free them and rid herself of the guilt that plagued her conscience. Sanity was all that kept her to her senses. Such a level of control, she found, was rare.

Kouri smashed her fists into the dirt like the child she was. A temper tantrum caused by moral injustice. All in perspective, Kaie didn't find Kouri so malevolent as most outsiders saw. Misunderstood perhaps was even a good description for the ghost girl. Of course it was known that Kouri was...Well...Unstable. Kaie herself had seen it in the Bazaar. The way her eyes changed, let alone her mental state. Two very different sides of a ghastly coin. Her bipolarity when it came to her emotions gave Kaie whiplash sometimes. Mostly due to confusion or surprise. No doubt the dead girl had murderous thoughts floating about that mind. Absently, the Myrian wondered if she should hold out her bronzed hands and request she hand over her blades. A gesture no different than a mother scolding a child for drawing along the walls, demanding the writing utensils out of their possession. With a purposeful float, it seemed Kouri would be sharing her homicidal plans with their current leadership.

Kaie watched them speak, noticed Razkar's initial rigid reaction that left as quickly as it came. No doubt he would show no emotion at all if he could help it. Just assertive words and commanding gestures. A speech all backed by rationality, she'd guess. Kouri seemed tense, infuriated even or verging on it. Was any of it going in her favor? Kaie hoped not. She'd had plenty of holes poked into her today and though she'd love nothing more than returning the favor, intelligence took precedence. She'd have plenty of time to learn the art of ass kicking later when she was in better condition. Kaie turned to glance at the blonde Kelvic at her side, probably in the same jubilee as herself at their cut. Enraged like Kouri over the inhumanity of the ordeal most likely. Maybe he'd surprise her with the opposite reaction though. Either way, with the battles over she might as well interact with him off the field.


"Well fought, Kelvic....How do you think it's going over there?" She asked the wolf-man without making eye contact, focused on the pair speaking tensely off to the side with a quizzical expression on her face. Kaie had spoken few times with Solin to know he was intellectual and formed his own thoughts and opinions quickly. No doubt he'd have his own two cents to put into the recent circumstances. The ones Kaie was careful not to ask for specifically. In the end she knew it didn't matter what they thought. They had agreed to follow Razkar's leadership. As a fellow Child of Myri, Kaie trusted his judgement. What he said was final in her mind. Yet...What about theirs?



Loot: :
Spear
Flanged Mace
Human rations
Dagger
Kukri x2
Flamberge
Double Bladed Axe
X From looted kills (ST determined)
90 GM reward from Razkar for services
30 GM bonus split from deserter's cut




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V. Spoils

Postby Solin on July 29th, 2013, 4:50 am

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When Solin saw the battle was over, he nodded to Fubuki and said softly,
“I will be right there.” The kelvic had no moral code to speak off since he didn't really care for the traditions of the civilized peoples of Mizahar, so he went over to the fourth slave wagon to collect his winnings from the bodies of people he slew. When he got closer, he heard the slaves pleading for him to release them. He saw in front of the wagon the driver was still writhing on the ground with his arrow sticking in his stomach. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he saw a child stick out his hand to him and pleaded with tears in his eyes, “Sir, I can cook, groom and saddle your horse, and mend the tears in your shirt. Just please take me with you!” Solin looked into his innocent blue eyes, and the kelvic heart started to sink into his stomach. He couldn't believe the humankind and the rest of the mortals could condone slavery, but over his short five years, he started to wonder if there was any hope for the people of Mizahar including himself. Solin turned his head away from the slave boy and watched the myrian and the awful smelling talking. The kelvic wondered if they were deciding the fate of the slaves, and when the two men separated, the sound cheering went back to moans of despair. He knew the fate of the people in the cages were decided for them. He shook his head at the boy and said plainly, “I am sorry, Pup, but I was just paid to kill these men and nothing more.”

Solin was surprised at the callousness of his words, but it was true. He was a mercenary now, and he needed to act like a professional and bury his feeling in the deepest part of his heart otherwise he wouldn't find anymore more work. The boy's blue eyes filled with tears and said with a hate in his voice, “You are a horrible person! I hope you get what coming to you in the end!” The boys words felt like a knife in his stomach, and Solin just stared at him for a chime or two. Finally. The kelvic wet his lips with his tongue and said softly to him, “Pup, I see strength in you, and you need to hold onto your strength, so you can endure your future. Let me give you advice if you have a chance to die standing up and fighting for your freedom than your life will have meaning in this life.” Suddenly, the boy stood up and spit in his face. Normally, the kelvic would have struck the boy for his insult, but he deserved the boys reaction, so he turned to the wagon driver and unsheathed his dagger. The man's eyes widened when the kelvic approached him with the knife and pleaded with the kelvic, “Please, I have a wife and son! I was just hired by them to drive their carts to Ravok. I mean no ill towards you sir!”

Solin knelt down next to him and saw the arrow in his stomach. He shook his head and said softly, “I am hunter, human, and I care little for your life in the civilized world.” He shook his head and said with a toothy smile, “In my world, you are just prey to me.” He put his dagger up too the human's neck and slit the man's throat. The man twitched for a few ticks before Dira took the man into the underworld. Solin gave the slaver the courtesy of closing his eyes before he looted his body. The kelvic looked at his belt and saw a throwing axe and hand axe. He took the throwing axe and the and secured them both to his own belt. He started to rummage through his vest, and he found a case. When he opened the case, he saw a silver flute nestled in the velvet cloth. He closed the case tucked it in his backpack. Cleaning the dagger on his shirt of the dead wagoner, he walked around to the other end and saw the crossbowman laying there on the ground with a broken neck. He would over to him, inspected the body, and found a light crossbow and a waist quiver with nine crossbow bolts. Ignoring the cries from the slaves, the kelvic took the crossbow and the bolts and walked towards the forest with the other two dead men.

When Solin got to the other dead humans, he looked at the younger man, knelt down next to him, took the broad sword and scabbard from his waist, and unfastened the buckler from the dead man's left wrist. He walked away from the young man and knelt down next to the old man. He tilted his head at the exotic mercenary from the south. He rummaged through his pockets for anything valuable before he found a angle knives at his hips. The kelvic took the sheathe holding it with a grin on his pale face. It was a interesting blade, and he hoped to train with it in the future. Solin saw and took a scabbard used for a curved weapon, so he started to look through the woods for the strange weapon. Walking the path of the charging horse, Solin notices a glint of metal in the green undergrowth. He picked up the scimitar and strapped it to his hip.

When Solin was finished looting, he saw a horse wandering the woods. It looked like the horse the young horse rider used when he charged him. The kelvic walked over the horse slowly and grabbed the horse's reins. He knew with all the loot from the dead. He would need something strong and sturdy to carry it. He loaded the crossbow, bolts, buckler, and the two swords into the saddle bags. He noticed in the bags their was a bottle of clear alcohol in the pack along with clean white shirt. The kelvic took off his chest piece of his leather armor, shirt, and looked down at the slash across his chest. He wished the medic didn't run off like a coward, so he had to do his best to treat the wound. He took his shirt, poured some of the contents onto his old shirt, and he started to dab the slash wound with alcohol. The pain was sharp and intense, but it eventually the pain subsided into a dull throbbing pain. Solin ripped the shirt down the front to make bandage larger, and he tied it tightly across his chest. The kelvic yelped in pain and leaned on the horse till the pain subsided. He knew he would have to see a doctor, but for now, the makeshift bandage will do. He packed his armor into the saddle bags and walked the horse over to the Myrians.

When Solin got the the group, Razkar handed him his pouch of gold, and he stuffed it into his backpack. The kelvic didn't know if he would see any of them in the future, but he knew his time with them was over, so he said to Razkar with a smile on his face, “It was good hunting with you, Razkar, and I hope to never have to take a job with you on other side of my sword. Good luck in your travelings and happy hunting...” He didn't really had much else to say to the fellow warrior, so he gave the man a nod of respect. Solin blue eyes glanced at the ghost who seemed to be livid with the turn of events with their employers. The kelvic started to wonder if she would actually kill their employers, and he knew if she tried something now. They would all be dragged into the battle. It was something he didn't want to do. Luckily, the Myrian named Razkar was trying to talk her out of it. Suddenly, the female myrian spoke to him for the first time, and he turned with a shake of his head and said softly, “Thank you my name is Solin Valhir. Sorry I never caught your name?”

Before the battle, Solin stayed away from her since she always seemed to be around Razkar, but he was curious about the attractive warrior woman. Solin reached into his pack and pulled out the bottle of clear alcohol and looked for another clean shirt. When he found them, he answered her question, “Honestly, I understand what the spirit is feeling, and I even contemplating freeing them too.” Solin torn the shirt down the middle and continued his thoughts, “However, we are mercenaries and professionals, so we have to set aside our emotions to get the job done. Regardless, of our personal feelings for the real victims. Unfortunately, the slaves are spoils of this war, and their fate was decided by our employers.” He looked at the ghost child and said without looking at the Myrian woman, “I think the ghost will see reason in the end because of her respect for our leader.” Holding out the alcohol and the torn shirt to her, Solin looked at the female Myrian and said softly, “I am no medic, but I think we should treat your wounds. If you need help, I will assist you if you like?"

lootBroad, Sword
Buckler
Scimitar
Light Crossbow
(9)Light Crossbow Bolts
Throwing, Axe
Hand Axe
Angle-Knife
Metal, Flute (Silver)
X From looted kills (ST determined)
90 GM reward from Razkar for services
30 GM bonus split from deserter's cut


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V. Spoils

Postby Kaie on July 29th, 2013, 5:31 am

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Solin Valhir, huh? Kaie appraised the Kelvic for the first time, now able to put a name with his face. His words were just what she expected. Wise. In such a stressful atmosphere and unfavorable turn of events, Kaie was almost betting the man would turn fiercely toward morals. The wolf-man had pleasantly surprised her. So many barbarians strutted through the streets spewing empty claims to morality and social justice. It was refreshing to see one who understood the nature of what they had faced that day. The things they had given up the moment they accepted the job. Certainly she wouldn't forget his name when they crossed paths again. Gods be good, she'd pair with plenty more like him in the heat of battle.

"You impress me with your intelligence...Solin Valhir," She said with a knowing smile, tasting his foreign name on her tongue sparingly. The Myrian woman wasn't trying to flatter him. She only spoke what was true in her eyes. Kaie knew to give compliments when they were well over due."I am Kaie of the Cutthroat Shadows and I must say I agree with you. More out of hope than belief perhaps. After all I do think that little spirit can poke plenty of holes in us before we can get a grip on her," She added with a gentle shrug of her bruised shoulders. The visual of that lopsided battle wasn't anything less than a troubling idea in her head. She knew she spoke the truth to Solin. Kouri was beyond anything Kaie's own weapons could touch. Subduing her would prove to be the greatest challenge all night by far.

A torn shirt and bottle of alcohol broke her from her twisted imagination. Her face contorted with confusion at first at his words, head cocking just a tad. Wounds? Rose colored lips parted as if to speak, eyes dark with a confused indignation before reality struck her upside the head. Oh... She looked down at herself remembering the shallow holes in her torso from that damned mace. Gods, was she a bloody mess. Certainly she wasn't about to meet anyone in the dead of night in this condition. Hopefully black and blue was her color. Had she really believed in the aftermath she was still invincible? Kaie found herself more ridiculous by the day. Bronzed hands went forth to take the shirt and alcohol but then abruptly stopped. I don't have a petching clue what I'm doing, She thought to herself with a bit of irritation. For Myri's sake, this was embarrassing.


"I must admit I'm real shit at cleaning up. All that training and I never bothered to learn a thing about healing. Guess I should've thought that part through before I took the job, huh?" She said bitterly though her satire wasn't aimed at the Kelvic, only herself. Still she raised her head to look at him with an apologetic expression. As much as she hated feeling dependent, Kaie knew she needed Solin's help on this one. It was about time she swallowed her pride.



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V. Spoils

Postby Fubuki Kouri on July 29th, 2013, 9:46 am

Fubuki Kouri




"Ehehe... ehehehe~" A low giggle escaped from her lips, Kouri tilted her head and her reptilian gaze bore deep into Razkar, the fact that she was the only thing in the group that could intimidate the veteran warrior did not go unnoticed. The spinning chakrams at ther side showed him that she was actually capable of slaughtering everyone here if she wanted too... and if she would have to leave no witnesses, she was willing to murder the slaves as well, at least they could find salvation in death than endure a living hell.

"...." Kouri kept following him as he walked away from her, soundless floating ever stalking the Myrian, forcing him to answer her. His answers didn't satisfy her, why should she follow their orders if she was the strongest menace in the area? Those stinky bastards couldn't do a petching thing to stop her... and neither do Razkar, should by some divine intervention, he took their side.

"Kill me? Ehehe..." Her giggle faltered when Razkar mentioned about his employers could send an army of spiritist to her. She wasn't convinced yet, not until he mentioned about Rena. Kouri's eyes widened before suddenly narrowed in anger, she would utterly mutilate anyone that would dare to hurt her little sister, but then again... an army of spiritists did present a clear threat, if one could incapacitate her, what about two? Or five? Or ten? Kouri found herself faltering a bit.

Kouri scoffed and floated away, leaving the Myrian worrying heavily on whether his persuasion succeeded or not. Kouri kept thinking and thinking... until she passed a particular slave caravan and... "Oh..." her eyes made contact with a girl, kneeling inside the cage's corner... looking older than herself perhaps by five to six years. The girl had back-length black hair, ragged excuse of a dress, and... those eyes, those blackish eyes with dark bags, looking dead. For some reason, she found this particular slave to be interesting... she could sense faint traces of soulmist from her, was she a spiritist?

"Hello..." Kouri approached, all of the other slaves immediately backed away in fear, but not her... this older girl merely turned her head and faced Kouri with an expressionless face. "...uhm... who are you?"

"......" The girl kept silent for a good fifteen seconds before she opened her mouth slightly, her voice low but alluring "...Kriemhild". "!?" Kouri's eyes widened in surprise, that distinct black tongue akin to Madame Isolde, this older girl was one of those undeads? So... even an undead can be a spiritist? Kouri had gotten over her fears over Nuits, attracted by the traces of Soulmist on Kriemhild's pale skin she approached closer and grabbed the bars of the cage with her hands.

"Are you a spiritist?" Kouri tilted her head, her voice only filled with genuine curiosity, not hatred like to the spiritist Kaie murdered..

Kriemhild looked slow to answer, but no fear could be detected from her expression, just eerily calm and expressionless. "Spiritist? Like that dead human over there... no, I don't... consider myself as one. Yes... I have some... talents with beings like you... but, I'm weak... far weak to be called a spiritist..."

The other slaves just watched in fear, but some of them was genuinely curious, a late-teen creepy girl was talking with another creepy ghost little girl. Creepy attracts creepy it seemed.

"So uhm... Ehehehe~ I'm Kouri~ So... what are you doing here? How can you be captured?"

"....Kouri." Kriemhild nodded slightly to the girl. The Nuit seemed to have no purpose in life so she answered without hesitation "I don't know... and I don't really care... perhaps I'm captured while wandering... my memory is not too good regarding that..."

Kouri seemed to be thinking, but she didn't think long before her crimson eyes figuratively shone and she was basically phasing her neck to inside the cage. "Would you like to come with me?"

"With... you?"

"Yes! You can help me! I'll introduce you to my little sister, Rena~ I'm away much, doing things, so... I want you to take care of her! Like like uhm... ah, a maid!" Maids and butlers were very okay with Kouri, it was how all slaves were supposed to be, treated like people and with respect, not as objects and tools.

"Your maid, huh... the maid of a ghost..." Kriemhild seemed to be thinking, but her expression remained the same "Very well... Mistress. I accept. At least I can find better things to do than sitting here with these... mortals"

"Yaaay! Ahahahaha!" Kouri was basically twirling, she then dashed back to Razkar, a happy grin plastered on her face. "Razkar! Razkar! Ehehe~ I'm willing to let those stinky poos live... if you just give me that one big sis over there! Her name is Kriemhild! And I. Want. Her. Or... I will kill all of them.... So~ Tell them that okay~♪ ?" Kouri was sure to accentuate her last words. Ekvan would have to accept this offer or... else.

OOCI want the Nuit! I want her!
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V. Spoils

Postby Razkar on July 30th, 2013, 1:33 am

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"Are you fucking with me, Myrian?"

"No, I am not fuck with you."

Ekvan's glared ratcheted up a few notches, and had about as much effect on Razkar as a pebble thrown at a stone wall. Dark eyes half-buried under bushy eyebrows looked past him and to the fluttering, jabbering ghost fussing over the only slave that was out in the air. He men were shuffling uneasily behind him, unsure how to handle this, so just made do with looking tough and matching their leader's glare.

Razkar had to fight not to roll his eyes. If you have to ask, you'll never know...

"You know your orders. We kill the guards and take the slaves. You get paid and we go our separate ways. Nothing there about taking a pet-"

"I not make this. She does." He thumbed over his shoulder casually at Fubuki, now apparently regaling the huddled girl she'd saved with how hot her sister's bath water should be. "She wants slave girl. She wanted to make all slave free, but she settle for one. One for fifty. That is deal."

"Or what?"

"She kill us all."

Razkar had to admit, it was worth uttering it aloud just to wipe that sneer of Ekvan's face. His muscle were made of even softer shit than him and naked fear was on a few of their faces now. They'd all seen how horrifyingly effective the ghost was in combat: flying, stabbing, slashing, impossible to harm and able to strike from a dozen directions with her blades. There were ten of them left now, Razkar's men and Ekvan's. They could make a stand, and they would die.

But "they" would not include Razkar; he would already be running.

"Fucking unbelievable." Ekvan finally snarled, words spewing out as he gained speed and focus to his rage. "We hired you to do a simple fucking job, simple fucking snatch and grab, even let you hire on some help, and fuck do you do? Have us running with some demented ghost?! Now it's costing us-"

"This is compromise." Razkar cut in brutally, accent growing more guttural with each word until everyone was focused on the showdown between the two men. "Word you know, yes? That is how things do in civilized place, yes?"

And gods, but didn't he just spit that fucking word out? Civilized. That was what these weaklings always said they were: beacons of civilization, bearers of the light, and what were they having him do? Give a cruel glimmer of hope to a handful of slaves and then crush it in front of them.

Razkar's hand wavered close to his weapons and Ekvan's breathing hitched just a little. He'd seen the Myrian in action, too...

"Let one go. Keep the rest. You have fifty in wagons. Lose one not mean much. Thing is decided?"

Ekvan was a petty man, and like all petty men he relished any mote of power he held over others. Razkar shuddered at how he would treat those poor souls in the wagons... but they were not his problem. He told himself that over and over as Ekvan made a big show of carefully deciding what they both knew would happen.

"... she can have the little cunt." Ekvan said with one last snarl at the frail-looking slave. "Bitch looks sick, anyway."

"Good. Is there any more?"

Ekvan shook his head, looking out at the waiting wagons, now bereft of riders and guards, all of them dead and leaking on the leafy dirt. He made a quick gesture and his men fanned out, jumping up to take the reins and snatch up crossbows for themselves.

"No. Fuck off back to Syliras, Myrian. Good work."

Razkar gave him a broad, fanged smile in return, knowing how much those last two words must have hurt. Ekvan whirled away from him and stomped to the nearest wagon, the new driver already getting the horses whipped up-

"Alright! Lets get moving!"

The Myrian and his people watched them leave. The horses strained and wheels creaked and turned, the stalled convoy moving again under new ownership. Razkar ground his teeth as the slaves wailed and pleaded one more time, a multitude of scrawny, begging hands waving at them from between the bars. Children and mothers; proud men broken and women with tears streaming from their faces. He saw them all... and he turned his face.

"We are leaving!" He shouted to no-one in particular, grabbing Horse's reins and beginning to walk back the way they'd come. Within a dozen days and nights the scavengers and prowlers, armies of bugs and the elements themselves would obliterate all sign of this massacre. "Take what you carry and return to city!"

The Myrian stopped briefly at where Fubuki and the shivering (now ex-) slave sat, looking up at him with manic glee and fear respectively. Razkar frowned a little, seeing something deeper than mere pallor in the features of the girl... but shrugged it off. Gods knew how many days in the back of a wagon would make anyone look like Dira's play thing...

"You have girl, you have gold, you have blood." He said to Fubuki, then nodded curtly. "Now go home... and stay from trouble." He snorted as he started to move away again, voice a mutter but loud enough to hear. "Might well ask for rain to turn to mizas..."

Only two left. The Kelvic had acquitted himself quite well, by the looks of it, loaded down with his spoils. Razkar had seen him take two of his enemies, and now, most importantly, when the battle was over, he was still standing.

Or squatting, rather, as he tended to his fellow Myrian. He frowned judiciously as he looked down, watching the Kelvic apply some stinking liquid to a rag and then to his bleeding Sister.

"That is for wounds?" He asked to the Kelvic, then slid his black eyes to Kaie, slipping into his native tongue. "Sure he knows what he's doing?"

OOCFubuki, you're free to make your exit now. I'd advise getting some rations together for your new... "friend" first. Kaie, Solin, Raz is sticking around for Kaie's benefit, but will be leaving solo, unless she wants to follow. Once she's patched, he'll get moving... then it's up to you guys.
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Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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V. Spoils

Postby Kaie on July 30th, 2013, 3:24 am

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Kaie had watched the exchange between Kouri and the slaves. Surely she couldn't have been the only one who had noted the desire in her little girl eyes before she said something to Razkar. There was nothing to guess. It was clear what the ghost wanted. Soon enough she watched her fellow Myrian tread on over to the large barbarian, probably going to state his case. She knew what the deal would be. Kaie had to work to keep her half grin from sneaking onto her features. She could only guess what Ekvan must've thought when he heard the inevitable ultimatum. The Myrian woman had no idea what was said but by the looks of the skiddish men behind their leader. Barbarians were proud creatures too but even the most arrogant could see a lost cause when it arose. Ekvan proved not to be as dull as she thought. Momentarily Kouri would be given the okay to take her little pet home. Pale and wretched looking thing, too. No matter. Kaie had other things to concern herself with other than living playthings.

Her small smile faded abruptly upon catching the stench of the alcohol. She truly dreaded what was to come. Kaie was more of a "we'll just flush the wound, bandage it, and then be on our way" sort of woman. In her defense she had never faced this sort of thing before. Well, certainly not to this degree. Honestly she couldn't decide what pissed her off more: the fact she allowed herself to be struck at all or the inconvenience it posed. Kaie had a tendency to be rather facetious about these sorts of things. Had she broken a leg, she might've shrugged her shoulders and limped off. Left them with something as idiotic as, "Yeah I'll just go walk it off." She'd probably smile too.

She bit her lip as she stared at the rag, anticipating the burn that was soon to come. Was this all really so necessary? Amber eyes flickered up to find her Brother before herself and the Kelvic, seriously appraising what the barbarian was about to do. Immediately she let her lip slip back into place as if she was once again in the Training Yards of Taloba. As if there was some sort of drill sergeant equivalent to insult her mental strength for making even such a simple gesture. The Myrian tongue helped her relax. Hell, it even brought that playfulness back to her eyes. Like there wasn't a care in the world. She arched a brow at the Son of Myri, a crooked smile gracing her features.

"Of course not. I do know he knows a hell of a lot more than I though," She said in their own tongue, adding an indifferent shrug to her words.

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V. Spoils

Postby Fubuki Kouri on July 30th, 2013, 8:47 am

Fubuki Kouri




OOCNaw~ Nuits doesn't need to eat, drink, or sleep. :D

"Hm~♪ Hm hm hm~♪" Kouri was swaying her body side to side, not-so-silently watching the exchange between Razkar and the leader of those stinky poos. When Ekvan shot glance at her, Kouri's eyes glowed for just a brief second and her chakrams spun rapidly for one rotation, Ekvan flinched and turned his attention back to Razkar. While it only lasted for less than a second, Kouri's threat bore itself deep into those mercenaries' mind.

She giggled and turned her attention to Kriemhild, who was now sitting on the ground, began speaking about various things that Rena liked, the temperature of her bath being one of them... even though they didn't actually need to bath. Kriemhild just nodded and nodded while occasionally mumbling "Yes, mistress".

The sight of Ekvan shouting for his leave and the screaming wailing slaves were drown out as Kouri focused his whole attention to the Nuit in front of her. "So~ You don't need to eat, drink, or sleep?"

"....I most certainly not, Mistress. But I can get tired if wounded... so, the last part might be partial. I don''t sleep regularly like mortals..." Kriemhild was starting to open herself up, she was always more comfortable being with one of the dead, being one herself, only she was corporeal and her new "Mistress" was ethereal.

Razkar then came, brining his new horse and all, he passed Kouri and her new maid. Kouri looked up to him, face happy like a true little girl, while Kriemhild just flinched slightly, not at the warrior, but more at his ghastly weapons. "This is Razkar~ My uuh... friend~"

Kriemhild just nodded to Razkar to acknowledge him. She wondered on did the warrior "befriend" the ghost or the ghost "forcing" him to become his friend, she bore witness on how child-like morality, glee, and combined with the power to actually kill someone looked like just moments ago after all.

"Go home? Okay! Let's go home, Kriemy~" Not one bell after meeting her, Kouri was already calling her nicknames. "Oh, can you carry this for me?" Kouri gave the bundles of leather pouches to Kriemhild, she tried to hold them all but some of them fell from her grasp, she frowned and think of something. Kriem's eyes then located a decent-sized wooden chest complete with its lock near them, most likely fell down from one of the wagons. "Mistress, may I suggest putting these pouches and..." she eyed the plethora of daggers at Kouri's sides "...weapons to that chest?"

"Hmmm~ Okay!" Kouri then put down her daggers on the ground and extended her tendril to pull the wooden chest. Kriemhild then opened it to put the pouches inside there, Kouri herself put all of her sixteen daggers in a neat fashion. Kriemhild closed it and tried to lift it.. "Ah.... my deepest apologies, Mistress, but... it's rather... heavy"

"Hm? Heavy?" Kouri extended two tendrils and tried to pick up the box, yes... unlike in the near future, currently her powers weren't enough to lift the box, due to the mizas and daggers inside, herself, she could drag it though. Kriemhild saw Kouri's struggling and helped her. With both of them holding the box, it was finally able to be lifted. "Alright! Bye bye, everyone! Heheh~ Bye Razkar, bye Madame Kaie, bye Sir Solin~♪" She waved good-bye and together with her new maid, floated happily to Syliras.

Second Loot1 Wooden Chest
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