Flashback No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

In which Finian meets his first Vantha, at sea of all places.

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An inland sea created by Ivak's cataclismic fury during the Valterrian, the Suvan Sea is a major trade route and the foremost hub for piracy in Mizahar. [lore]

No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

Postby Finian Truewind on November 21st, 2013, 3:37 am

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Ian was, for a few moments, more distracted by the tools and various contents of Ari's bag before he could bring himself to focus on the carving she set between them. He was already smiling, freckled countenance practically beaming at her complements on his ship. He knew nothing of Morwen, but the mention of a marking reminded him of his own gnosis from Laviku. The swirling waves that crawled up his left side were part of that mark, and while he grew that mark with ink under his skin that washed from hip to wrist on the same side, his gnosis was a very important part of his identity as a Svefra. He knew very well that not all people were born marked by the gods they followed, but he knew very little about the people of the north and their icy goddess.

While there were Svefra born unmarked by Laviku, most he knew were marked eventually. Were Ari's people born marked by this Morwen or did Ari have to leave her home because she wasn't? Now was perhaps not a good time to mention how his people dealt with babies not born with blue eyes. Never was probably best at this point, considering her recent encounter with the sea.

"My … my …grand-" he struggled for the right word in Common, hands moving for the Fratava sign as he wracked his brainbox for the right combination of unfamiliar syllables and sounds, "My grand'da an'I made this casinor together." He said simply, leaning forward in his blanketed heap to reach for the wooden bear, "It was his last boat."

His tone wasn't sad so much as nostalgic with a twinge of obvious guilt in his lagoon blue eyes. Then his expression hardened and he exhaled. The wounds that led to his leaving were still so fresh. He had no intention of bleeding all over his cabin to a stranger.

Instead, he picked up the Vantha's carving, turning it over in his calloused hands. His smile returned,

"I'm no good with nice, little things. Too impatient. You must be patient." The itinerant shipwright laughed, admiring the little wooden beast, "But I've tried. Making toys. Still boats, jus' smaller." It was, apparently, his talent. Regardless of the scale, the man had a peculiar passion for boats.

Without setting the bear down, he stood. Thankfully for his unexpected passenger's sake of modesty, he kept his blanket as he wandered to his worktable. Rummaging through a small box, he produced a miniature casinor, about the size of his hand. He returned to his seat and set both the bear and the boat down between them in comparison. The little vessel had a few details, and it looked as though it was designed to float just like the one they bobbed in now.

"Syliras, huh?" The platinum-haired Svefra finally looked up, rubbing his red-tinted chin stubble with the palm of his hand, "I may've been goin' that way anyway, so things look good for you." Finian leaned back under his blanket and rolled his shoulders thoughtfully, "My casinor, she's The Handmade'n, she's a little plain. Still new, y'see. Maybe there's somewhere you can carve something nice. To make her pretty. Fish or whales or those bears."

He'd never seen a bear. He had no idea if her carving was of accurate size or in miniature. It could be eating a minnow, after all. He'd heard they were dangerous, so surely, they were bigger. But, well, not all dangerous things came in big packages.

"I tell better stories when drunk, though. Jus' to warn ya." It was true, unfortunately. He didn't really sail better after drinking, however. Alcohol just seemed to smooth out his rough edges and loosen his tongue a bit. He grinned at this, recognizing that their curiosities were mutual. It was, to the Svefra, a fair trade. If he had felt comfortable being honest or wearing his heart on his tattooed wrist, he could have admitted to how much he disliked sailing alone. It was too quiet, too thoughtful, too boring sometimes. Other times, he needed the silence, but not as often as advertised.

"Syliras is still a few days' sail from'ere, so we'll have to share stories no matter what."
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Finian Truewind
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No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

Postby Vanari on November 22nd, 2013, 6:57 pm

















Vanari watched with curiosity as Ian took her bear with him to a worktable of sorts, then came back with a second carving in hand. He set them both down and the girl managed to maintain modesty for all of five ticks before she whisked up the little boat in fascination, inspecting its every surface and judging the weight of it in her hand. It felt so light, as though it too could float on water, just like its big sister.

Normally, she might have set the carving hastily down in fear of overstepping any boundaries, but the sailor seemed to pay little mind to such things. Given the reputation of most Svefra and his likelihood of being one, his directness was only to be expected. And besides, it wasn't hard to guess who was a Svefra and who wasn't on the open seas--she'd seen one or two crazy enough to brave the waters of Storm Bay back home and suffice to say, they were distinctly memorable folk.


"Kas-en-nore, hand-may-den," Vanari repeated after Ian, sounding out the new words to get a feel for them.

She looked down at the sturdy little boat in her hands, then pushed the bear towards the Svefra.
"I keep yours, you keep mine. Our first trade?" she hazarded in an attempt to mirror his own forthrightness, unsure if he would be willing to part with his carving.

"And I would be happy to help carve something...fish...whales...beeaaahh--" Vanari yawned before she could finish her last word, no longer able fight the tides of exhaustion. Her eyes teared up and she rubbed them furiously. Never even mind the hunger that was beginning to gnaw at her from all that vigorous flailing in the salty seas; sleep was far more appealing and immediate of a need than anything else at that moment.

The Vantha felt tired enough to knock out where she sat, but she held desperately onto consciousness, resisting the temptation to just curl up on the damp planks and risk even more physical aches and pains come morning.


"Um, can I...may I sleep...here?"
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A lonely heart is better than a bored one.

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"My Speech"
"Vani"
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No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

Postby Finian Truewind on December 10th, 2013, 4:14 am

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"Fair'nough."

Finian laughed at the Vantha's offer to trade, nodding his agreement without any hesitation. Bartering came naturally to the Svefra, and since it was obvious there would be no Mizas exchanged for the journey, he was more than happy to be given something handmade and foreign instead. He had little interest in venturing onto dry land in search of a real bear, so one in less dangerous miniature was certainly appealing.

Not particularly concerned about the loss in coin for the moment, and naively unconcerned about another mouth to feed for the journey, Ian was reaching for the bear again when Vanari yawned and requested to sleep on the floor of his cabin,

"No, not on the floor." The blond shipwright stood in his blanket, leaving the carving where it was for the moment, and hooked a thumb over his shoulder, towards his berth, "Go on an' sleep in my bed. It's bigger. 'Sides, you're cold. More blankets."

His tone wasn't lewd or suggestive. Just practical, at least in his own way of thinking. While he was capable of giving even a mild case of hypothermia a run for its mizas with contributions of body heat or more vigorous activity as needed, those thoughts weren't really on the forefront of his mind at the moment. Fortunately or not, those sorts of ideas and activities were never very far from his thoughts, either, but this time, for this moment, his words carried no extra meanings or implications.

He had sailing to do anyway, or a map to go back to squinting at, even if the swim in the cold Suvan had made him tired. He hadn't been as close to almost-drowning, though he hadn't been that close in quite some time. Ian wasn't prepared to admit he wasn't entirely sure where they were, and he didn't have his chance to ask directions after all.

He offered both callused hands to help up his unexpected passenger, maintaining some form of veiled modesty by sheer dumb luck more than anything on his own conscious behalf,

"Up y'go. Rest now." If she let him, he'd pull her up with a wince, the rope-burned gash on his tattooed side objecting to the effort, and then help her across the cabin. He'd get her settled in his bed and most likely be half-way to handing her the last blanket—the one on his person—before realizing he was still in need of that one until further notice.
Last edited by Finian Truewind on December 17th, 2013, 3:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Finian Truewind
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No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

Postby Vanari on December 11th, 2013, 4:23 am

















At the mention of a bed, the girl's exertion-addled mind wandered to fantasies of warmth, comfort, and bliss. Vanari near wept at the very idea of a thing on which you could lie and not move. Sleep, sleep, sleep, was all her brain wanted to revolve around, and it left her rather sheepish as Ian led her across the cabin. It didn't even occur to her that the Svefra had failed to mention where he would be sleeping. She didn't care. The Vantha could have shared a bed with a smelly, pregnant boar for all it mattered at that moment. And, as a rare piece of good fortune, Ian was neither smelly, nor pregnant.

But there was still some sense left in her, and reality struck once upon seeing there really was only one comfortable place to sleep, and a second time when Ian helped her up, wincing as he did from his injury.

They had reached the bed and, to her complete bewilderment, Ian actually started to tuck her in. For a single, painful moment the Vantha found herself hurled back through time, watching a different set of hands and kind eyes settling the blanket around her weary form, putting her safely to bed. Ari stared soberly up at the Svefra, then at his wound. He had been halfway in the process of handing her the blanket draped around his naked form, managing to realize just in the nick of time what that would entail but not quick enough to spare her the sight of the gash. It was an angry sort of red and stretched across his side like a morbid, leering grin. It made her cringe.


"You have to fix that," the girl blurted before she had proper time to think, "or it will leave a scar, or grow bad. I know a little...what is the word...med...med-ee-sennn. I can help."

Vanari pushed herself back up, careful to keep covered beneath the blanket. Filled with a sense of purpose, which was strangely invigorating after all her helpless flailing at the mercy of the Suvan, she wrapped the blanket snugly around under her arms, kept it secure by tucking one end inside of the top folds, and padded back over to rifle through her scattered belongings. Focus, discipline, efficiency--all of her lifelong habits came flooding back as she devoted herself to the task.

Thank Morwen, her mother's emergency kit was unharmed and not lost, and thank her mother for always being so blessedly paranoid. She upended the pouch and two vials clinked into her open hand, one a dark, berry-colored liquid and the other a creamy salve.

The girl hurried back, unmindful her ridiculous, makeshift garb, and beckoned for Ian to sit down on the bed. Peering closer at the wound, she wondered silently to herself if she had enough salve. Well, only one way to found out.


"This is Jile," Ari explained, holding up the juicy liquid for Ian to see, then set it down in her lap to exchange it for the vial of cream. "And this is Lidgefar, which help stop bleeding and heal the flesh. But first, we make sure the wound is clean, which is what Jile is good for. It is made from berries, you can even drink it. They smell nice, too. Fresh."

Vanari uncorked the darker vile, sniffed it, and offered a whiff for the Svefra with a smile. "Interesting, no? In my home land, there are many trees that smell like this. Here, I put on the juice now. It will hurt a little."

The girl looked around for something to apply the herbal remedies with, something clean. But all her spare clothes were damp, her actual clothes even damper, and their blankets were out of the question. So, instead she poured a little of the Jile at a time onto her fingers and dabbed them as gently as she could to the gash, hoping the stinging wasn't too severe. It was a useful trick, telling an injured person Jile wouldn't hurt much, but in the end any suffering depended on the severity of the wound itself. And Ian's looked rather promising in terms of pain, given the fact that it had been caused by a rope that'd been lying around gods know where, and come into contact with much sea water.

Nonetheless, the Vantha pressed on, blowing cool air at the gash to ease the sting of the Jile. She corked it when the wound was sufficiently covered, then opened the second vile of Lidgefar, dipping her finger in to reach the salve before spreading a thin, even layer across the length of the gash. The cream should have offered a bit of relief from the sting of Jile, or so Ari hoped.


"There, done," she announced with a huff of triumph, then corked the vial of salve, hesitated for a moment, and handed them over to the Svefra. "You can keep, in case you need more and I am sleeping."

At the mere mention of sleep, her mind reeled with exhaustion again. Vanari scooted backwards, not giving a fig about anything else, and managed to unwrap and burrow into her blanket without completely exposing herself. Once settled, she blinked up at Ian's bare back, already feeling herself sinking into sweet oblivion.

"You are tired, too," Ari muttered, not bothering to stifle a yawn as she bunched herself into as small of a lump as possible. "There is room, I do not take up much, and I do not care. Mother always taught...us to share...not care, even if...smelly, pregnant boar..."

And then she was gone.
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A lonely heart is better than a bored one.

"Your Speech"
"My Speech"
"Vani"
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Vanari
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No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

Postby Finian Truewind on March 22nd, 2014, 3:28 am

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Just as he was getting his new passenger into bed to rest, the Vantha was clambering out of it again, chattering on about his wound. She shuffled around, returning with a handful of items that were rather completely unfamiliar to the Svefra. He tried to catch all her words, snorting as she shoved vials under his nose. The darker vile smelled earthy and sharp, but not unlike some wood he had worked with over the years.

"Nah. I'm a'right. You don't need t—"

Ian tried to object. He was fine, really. It would heal. He held up a hand, but Ari's were faster, her explanations of what she was doing cutting off any words he attempted to start. She was smearing his inked flesh with her medicines and he hissed in surprise. A handful of siblings and the life of a shipwright kept him from making too much noise, though he winced and clenched his teeth as while her fingers prodded the Jile into his side. With a sharp exhale, a string of sea-worthy swear words in Fratava finally escaped his lips as the juice seeped its way inward like a blade and stung sharply along the arc of the rope burn under his ribs.

Petch. This was supposed to help?

He managed to sit still while she fanned the air, curious as to if that made the strange substance work better or if it just made it hurt more. He chewed the inside of his cheek as she reached for the stronger-smelling salve, bracing himself just in case it would hurt more.

However, the smear of cream was a little soothing and a little gross at the same time. She shoved both vials into his hands as if he wanted anything to do with them ever again—uh, no—and suggested he could keep them. For what? Self torture?

"Th-thank you." He lied with a crooked, white-toothed smile, unsure if he should be grateful or not. Perhaps the medicines would make him better, but he wasn't a Vantha … so he wasn't convinced. Was that stuff safe for a Svefra? Really?

He had his doubts, impatiently waiting for the sting to subside.

Still, the woman's yawn was contagious and Ian found himself stuffing the vials somewhere into a drawer while stifling his own. Those things were contagious, after all.

Was he tired? Maybe. A dip in the cold Suvan had not been in his plans for the day, and, well, apparently finding his precious landmarks had not been in his fate, either. Still, the stars would be out soon, and he needed them. He needed to figure out where in Laviku's watery realm he was, anyway.

"Tired, aye, but not yet. I'll be back'n'a bit." He admitted reluctantly, tucking the blankets around the mumbling lump in his berth before slipping away to stagger back up above deck, hopeful that the night sky would provide the direction he'd been searching for in the first place. He found himself moving in slow motion, however, unable to focus. The struggle in the brine of the sea had sapped his strength and eventually the stars became blurred bits of further confusion instead of reliable landmarks. It took about a bell for the blond shipwright to give up entirely, dozing off somewhere in the middle as he squinted into the sky.

He barely was able to go through the motions of preparing his ship for a night's rest. By the time he was finished, he all but fell back belowdecks and crawled his way back to his bed, perhaps a little more grateful than he should have been that it was pre-warmed by his unexpected guest.


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Finian Truewind
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No, Svefra are Never Lost (Vanari)

Postby Mayhem1 on November 16th, 2014, 4:22 pm

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You're an excited PC roaming around a thread.

You're not paying attention that the story's over.

Then...BAM! You're hit with a Grade.

I'm Mayhem, the ever-present Junior ST of Cyphrus. If you have any questions or concerns regarding this grade, please don't hesitate to shoot me a PM! And please, please remove or edit your grading request once you see this. Thank you!

 
Finian Truewind
XP
  • Cartography - 1
  • Sailing - 2
  • Swimming - 1
  • Rhetoric - 1
  • Socialization - 1
  • Observation - 2
LORES
  • Being Lost in the Suvan
  • That Boat is Not Svefran
  • Saving Someone from Drowning
  • Blanket: Makeshift Covering
  • Vanari: Vantha
  • Vanari: Of the Skyglow Hold
  • Vanari: No Gnosis
  • Vanari: A Carver
  • Jile: Cleans Wounds
  • Lidgefar: Stops Bleeding


 
Vanari
XP
  • Swimming - 1
  • Rhetoric - 1
  • Herbalism - 1
  • Socialization - 1
  • Observation - 2
LORES
  • Being Seasick
  • Being Tossed Overboard
  • Almost Drowning
  • Stripping Out of Wet Clothes
  • Blanket: Makeshift Covering
  • Ian: a Carver
  • Treating Rope Burn


Notes: A cute thread! I was worried that Finian wasn't actually going to save Vanari for a moment, until I remembered that it was a flashback. :P

With Regards,
- Mayhem
Syliras ★ threads: 0/4
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