Open A Common Bond (Jabran)

[Viridae Kabre]

Timestamp: Day 67, Summer, 513 AV
Location: Hunter's Gather

The air was livid with chatter at Hunter's gather this morning, as many of Kalinor's inhabitants had dropped in for a bite before beginning the work day. Viridae sat at a table in the center of the room, eagerly awaiting the arrival of a rabbit he had snared the night before, roasted and made into a thick pulpy soup containing tomato and celery. As he sat, he couldn't help but keep his mind from wandering back to what his sister had said to him two nights ago at this very table.

You're going to loose your life, Viri. She had said, in her trill, almost songlike voice. Every man in our family that has died in the past, lost his life during the hunt. Her words echoed endlessly. She was thoroughly convinced that he should marry and begin a new life, closer to Kalinor's heart. Further from the dangerous lures of Predators and bloodlust. In the past, her words would simply bounce off of him. He was always so caught up in improving upon his livelihood, that he was blind to see his withdraw from society. But things were different now. He had a deep sting of loneliness in his heart, and a fear of dying with no one to take notice. The world felt like it was just too vast for him now, even the dark ghost city of Kalinor.

And that's when he decided upon a plan. He would hunt. Oh would he hunt. He would bring sport hunters and young hunters along with him. Sharpen his skills, and make new ally's. Viri was tired of wandering the streets as a ghost wanders the void. So he decided to stop eating within the house, and take his meals at the hunter's gather, so as to get a more "Social air" about him.

The barmaid approached with a large bowl, and Viri snapped suddenly from his thoughts. She was very pretty, Long slender legs, thick crème colored hair, and sea blue eyes. She smiled kindly at him and set the bowl down on the table, before passing him a large mug full of deep amber liquid. "Anything else?"

"That's all, thank you," He said with an awkward smirk. She turned to leave and he lifted the bowl carefully to his mouth, feeling the hot liquid flow past his fangs. Viri set the bowl back on the table and stretched his neck. Being social wasn't too bad.

[Jabran]

Hours and days past unnoticed for Jabran in the depths of Kalinor. In the desert he had learnt to tell time by the sun. It would arise in the east in the morning and travel lazily across the sky, setting in the west when the day was done. There was no sun in Kalinor, no frame of reference, no nothing. He couldn't tell day from night in the dimness of the caves. The little light given off by the phosphorous stones never changed. He had tried to keep track by his sleep patterns but they were so askew now that that was impossible. He was beginning to adjust to the dimness in the city cave, though his eyes of black meant that such a thing was more difficult for the Chaktawe than it would be for a human. The phosphorous stones helped but he still spent a good deal of his time where he worked and lived, in the Meadows Public House.

The Symenestra still seemed an unnatural race to Jabran. The long arms he found strange but what bothered him most of all were the hooks that they had. His narrow minded view of the world and limited upbringing meant that he struggled to grasp an intelligent race that were so different. Though they interested him, he might not be able to accept them. One thing he was grateful for, however, was their fluency in Common. Since he arrived in Kalinor he made an effort to increase his ability to speak it, even if only for his job in the public house.

Jabran was not used to cities at all and he did not like this one. For one it was too cold. He had taken to wearing a tunic and cotton pants, usually with a cloak over it all. The streets, if streets they could be called, were dangerous with drops to nothingness on either side and the dimness made everything even worse. He had kept to the road that was coloured with red cord since he arrived but had seen other colours. He knew that they must signify something but didn't know what. The city seemed to be bigger than he first thought and he only walked where there were other people. Then there was the smell. A foreign odour that made him feel sick most of the time. It seemed to come from below and infect his very being, unavoidable and inescapable. But most of all, he missed the sun, the warm giver of light and life that shone down every day. He missed it's regularity. It was difficult to believe that he could take such a thing for granted.

His excursions away from the public house were few and far between. He failed to gather the enthusiasm or motivation to leave and explore most days. His sense of adventure was limited. It seemed to be something that had been beaten out of him at an early age. On one of his rare trips abroad he happened upon a peculiar looking building. It was very big and seemed to rise from the nothingness below. He couldn't see the shimmer that came off it, or the moss that covered it in patterns, or even the water that ran down it, what made him halt was the stone. He realised that he not seen any stone since he had arrived in Kalinor. He looked through the windows and saw people sitting at tables and eating. He suddenly realised how hungry he was but failed to find an entrance. "Where is the door?", he wondered to himself. "Door", he said in Common. He didn't like the word and struggled to say it. It never seemed right to him. "Door", he repeated slower and more deliberately as he still looked for one. He stopped for a moment and thought, searching for a word, a question. "Whe... ", he started. "Where... where door?". A proud smile crossed his face.

[Viridae Kabre]

Upon finishing his food and carefully placing 16 CM on the table, Viridae stood to make his leave. Though he enjoyed being around the people of Kalinor, He could not help but feel a nagging desire for the hunt. Though he had trapped a few Sparrow hawks the day before, He felt he needed to take down something bigger, and with a rack, so as to sell its skull.

His bare feet glided elegantly over the silk rope as he climbed out of the Tavern. He paused a moment at the building's entryway, gazing at the whole of the city, before gracefully scaling the side of hunter's gather and landing on a slight lip of its stone exterior. Then he saw something peculiar. An outsider of some sort. Having grown up in Kalinor, Viri did not have many encounters with visitors to the city, and thought an opportunity to meet someone interesting was to good to pass up. He approached the man with a calm and inquisitive look displayed across his face. "Excuse me sir, you look a little lost, is there anything I can help you with?" After speaking the sentence, Viri instantly felt embarrassed, noticing his thick accent whilst speaking in common.

[Jabran]

Jabran stood staring at The Hunter's Gather, lost in his own little world, for longer than he realised. In his concentration he hadn't seen the person rise from the building, nor climb down the tavern wall. In fact, he didn't notice the Symenestra until he had landed beside Jabran. He seemed to be of the same height as the Chaktawe and his skin pale as with all of his race. His eye colour reminded Jabran of the colour of the Eyktol sea on a beautifully hot day with a sparse scattering of wispy, thin clouds floating high above the sands.

The surprise would be clear on Jabran's face for just a moment before he managed to compose himself again and the steely plain visage would be all that Viridae would see. He recognised the string of words as a question from the inflection in Viridae's voice but the only word that he could properly register was 'help'. He repeated the word to himself and then a little louder which Viridae would definitely hear. He pointed to the mysterious building in front of him. "What... ", he began, slightly awkwardly and trailing off into nothingness.

His confusion was growing by the chime. It felt as if the culture shock of the new city was only hitting him now, his first real encounter with a local. He had been thrown from a tribe oriented existence where everyone helped everyone else to a place where he knew no-one and had to try and survive on his own.

He looked back to Viridae and considered the man closely. When he had spoken Jabran caught a glimpse of the dangerous looking fangs that all of this race seemed to have. The Symenestra was also taller than he had originally appeared which Jabran put down to his lean physique. In truth there was a couple of inches between the men. Jabran could also make out the dreaded claws, the instruments that made climbing buildings such as The Hunter's Gather so easy for them.

"What... ", he repeated, the ignorance of his new life and language shining through. For a moment he thought trying to recall his Common. Finally he said, "Where door?".

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae squinted his eyes as he looked over the man. His skin was clearly darker than the usual traveler's and his hair and eyes where deep and dark, much like the vast cavern's beneath Kalinor. Now, Viridae had never seen a desert, only heard story's from his mother's Gleaning, but Viri imagined that would be the sort of environment this man hailed from. The man was a few inches shorter than him, but was exceptionally more muscular, with firm hands and the stance of a person that would not be moved for the world.

He cantered his head, almost unnaturally to the side, as the man pointed towards hunter's gather, confusion sinking subtle tones into his expression. Very interesting indeed. But not like most of the city's male visitors, many of which where traders, well spoken in the common language. No, this man had come here for something else.

Upon Jabran speaking, Viridae also noticed a look in the man's eyes, wide and alert, and very aware of his surroundings. He knew in that moment, that this traveler would be alright. Trusted no harm would come to him, because he wasn't the same as most visitors. He was curious and inquisitive.

After Jabran spoke, Viridae returned to his naturally straight posture and pointed towards the building's roof. "You'd have to climb, or be carried," He said at a pace a bit slower than his first question.

[Jabran]

Jabran didn't understand enough of what the man said to make any sense of it even though it was said slowly. Again he looked through the windows of the Hunter's Gather. Inside were all Symenestra. They were talking and eating the liquid that that race seemed to dine on. Jabran had not yet gathered the courage to try foul looking and smelling concoction. He looked back at the man's eyes. He had been aware of the strange eyes colours of the non-Chaktawe, all of whom had ones of solid black, but he had never seen the strange colours of this race. This one had eyes of azure while others he had seen had ones of gold, purple or, his favourite, a deep red not dissimilar to the leaves of the trees in the Keerdash Grove. He was also intrigued by the size of the pupil as, again, he had never seen a race with such a large one, though he could not know the reason was to let as much light into the eye as possible so that the Symenestra could see better in the dimness of the cave.

It was clear that this man was trying to be friendly and genial. In the desert the Chaktawe are the same. The only ones able to survive are the one who have learned to survive. Many have, in the past, tried to make their way across the sands, most die unless they can meet a Chaktawe or a Benshiran. Both races would offer food, water and shelter to wayward travelers. To his despair, Jabran could not count the amount of corpses that he had seen lying motionless on the desert floor. Could it be that the Symenetra are similar. Life for an outsider in Kalinor is not easy. The Chaktawe have learned to have a healthy fear of the dark, for the nights in Eyktol are as cold as the day time is hot and there are beasts, such as the Baral, that prowl the land and devour anything that takes their fancy, including Chaktawe, Human and even, Jabran would suppose, Symenestra.

Still looking Viridae straight in the eye Jabran would extend his left arm looking for the Symenestra to grab his wrist and shake, a sign that he meant no harm. However, as his arm hung in the air, waiting to be grasped, he would also tighten the grip on his spear with his right hand. He had noticed that the man wore armour and had a bow also and if he was to, for some reason, try to attack the Chaktawe he would be easily blocked by the spear.

[Viridae Kabre]

Viridae looked to the man's extended hand then back to his face. He had a sort of hardened quality that came to those who had never been given much in their lifetime. The pure black of his eyes peered at him with an unsurmised intensity and Viri felt panic for a moment before gripping the man's wrist, refusing to break eye contact for even a moment, attempting to communicate what he could not say by word of mouth. With his free hand, The Symenestra extended his fingers and placed them on his chest before slowly and carefully pronouncing his name. "Veer-i-day," He said with the slight flicker of a smile.

Until that moment, He had not noticed the foreigner's hand wrapped tightly around the spear. Viri had met few people that wielded a weapon such as that, and those he had met where in the same field of work he was in. Hunters. At this moment, Viridae recognized the fire in the man's eyes to be the same fire he held as he was preparing for the day. A cold desire for the hunt.

He let got of the Chaktawe's wrist, and and spoke again with the thick accent of symenos hanging on his tongue. "You hunt, sire?" he said before making the simple gesture of pulling a spear over his head and hurling it into the darkness. He repeated the gesture and looked to the man again, awaiting a response.

[Jabran]

"Veer-i-day". There were foreign sounds to his tongue present and it took him a number of attempts to say it correctly. From the way it was said he assumed that it was the man's name. "Jabran", he replied cautiously, almost shyly.

"Hunt", he echoed. He thought for a moment, trying to place the word. He had heard it before... in Eyktol... and suddenly it clicked. "What does this man suppose to hunt", he wondered to himself. There were nothing but Symenestra in the dark cave. He knew little of these people but he hardly thought they were interested in hunting their own race. "There are always the traders in the Meadows Public House and the Orchard Market", he mused, seriously considering that Viridae might be talking about them. There was no humour in these thoughts, no sarcasm or irony. He did not entertain the ideas as a joke but seriously considered them and the man who proposed them. He could not fight the momentary flash of loathing that crossed him face. A loathing for this man who would kill those of his race and those outside it for sport. He was ready to impale Viridae on the spear that he held and leave him rot for all to see until he thought for a moment... "There is no way that this man could mean that." He thought of how how had arrived, the rocky surface that seemed longer than seven days past, the secret entrance that required claws to access, the screams of Ashara his guide. "Could he mean to leave? He has the claws to climb."

"Hunt what?", he asked simply, testingly, as one dips a toe in water to see if it is too cold. "Hunt where?", gesturing to the dimness of the cave, attempting to convey the lack of game save the few fat Humans.

[Viridae Kabre]

Upon hearing the man's name, Viri just blinked several times and looked at him Habran. It was definitely very different from the names of his people, which sounded longer and more appealing to the ear. This one was short and strong, more like it served a purpose rather than an attempt to sound interesting. He repeated it, pronouncing the H sound completely wrong, almost making it sound like a V. His pale cheeks reddened a bit and he chuckled out loud, muttering a quiet and accented "Forgive me," before growing quiet again.

Viridae couldn't help but smirk at the man's understanding of the word. Communication with someone that was hardly able to understand what he was saying was a completely new experience, but he had to admit he sort of liked it. Viri was never much of a talker anyways, and this little game of charades was somewhat amusing. "I hunt this," Viri said, thumping a fist against his white leather chest plate. "There," He said, pointing straight upwards to the cavern's ceiling, "And there," He repeated pointing straight downward into the abyss. He pointed up and said simply "Beasts," Then pointed down and said "Monsters."

"But for now, There." He pointed up again and tugged at the bowstring that ran across his chest, then gave Jabran a wide and polite smile. "Come along?"

[Jabran]

The formalities were strange and unprecedented for Jabran. His interactions with the 'outside world', the mysteries that lay hidden beyond the great desert of Mizahar, were very limited and he had always wished to keep them that way. The world could spin and move and change as much as it wanted, the great cities and heroes of the age could do as they seemed fit as long as the Chaktawe were left alone. However, he could no longer take this view. He had been flung head first into the heart of the world and could not afford to remain apathetic about such matters. He knew he would have to change even if he did not want to.

Jabran looked blankly at Viridae as he struggled with the formers name who was more interested in eating fresh caught food rather than bowing to social expectations. At the thought of food his stomach made a lonely groan, echoing from within his body, as if it came from the dark depths of a well and reverberated off the walls as it looked to escape.

Jabran looked over the edge of the road into the nothingness below, the dark, seemingly empty bowels of the great cave. Since he had arrived in Kalinor he had been keeping to the middle of the roads, never venturing to is extremes lest he lose his footing. Walking was difficult for the Chaktawe, more difficult than he would like to admit to, and in his shame he had occasionally been reduced to using the baskets set up for non-Symenestra to get around.

"Monsters", he muttered to himself. He did not know the word and did not want to, not at that moment anyway. Turning back to Viridae, Jabran followed the line his finger made, looking upwards, farther and farther until his eyes met the cavern wall and then on up to the roof. His excitement grew within him, though on the outside he displayed his usual blank expression. "Could he mean to leave?", he asked himself again.

"Hunt", he said simply, pointing his spear back the way he came, back towards the Meadows Public House and the secret entrance to Kalinor, looking for Viridae to lead him out to the surface and to freedom.