Solo Just Ain't Cuttin'

Seju tries to glean rumors, but just gets into trouble

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Just Ain't Cuttin'

Postby Seju on December 14th, 2013, 1:46 am

Image
like a dull knife just ain't cuttin'
we're just talkin' a lot and sayin' nothing
- james brown


7 Winter, 513 AV

Tiny lizards spilled from the wall's jumbled cracks. They scuttled across the reddish hardpan of the road, eluding donkeys laden by bales and jars, and the careless heels of charlatans, traders, and pilgrims before melting with quick tail-lashing into a disused granary.

Seju regarded the lizards. The speckles and stripes melded before his gaze. They were gray and gold, things of lazy chimera that didn't bother to hide. Taking the toe of his boot, he traced a line before him. Tufts of grass picked from the dirt. The lizards did not cross. They looked up from the dirt, poked heads from pitted mortar. Judged him with their eye-beads. Painted hides and metal rings over his skin. Patches of whisker on his cheeks, the puffy scratches on clasped hands. Seju held out his palms, as if saying, look, there's nothing there.

Then a broad man jostled between him and the wall. There was a stink of rum about the man, but it wasn't all that unpleasant.

Seju jerked away from his line. Trudged down the lane, passing under a gate of cracked, brass-bound cedar that led to an alley lined by plaster havelis. There was graffiti there, but of the vulgar kind. Dirt hazed over green-glazed windows. Clay shards cracked under his heel. Passing under an archway, he emerged into a square with a few, dingy stalls and a wagon being divested of barrels. Obese flies hung around a brazier. Kebabs of spiced lamb charred over the coals, shedding grease. Seju squeezed by a pile of carpets, pushed against heavy timbers. They gave before him, revealing a chamber with low, curving rafters.

Taking a step inside, he blinked slowly. The lamps were lit. There was a tiled stove, and beyond it a jumble of large jars. The walls were lined by benches, some of them dubiously covered by pelts, and a few trestles covered by mismatched cups. The men at them played at bones. They muttered and fidgeted distractedly, gazed into their cups with a dubious anticipation. They jeered as well.

“Toss 'em, why don't you?”

“Petch!”

“Two fives? That ain't enough.”

Seju discarded his pack and joined them, sipping from a cup with a chipped rim. The wine was harsh, little more than dregs, but it dulled his anxiety. The bones clattered again. Taking a place along the wall, he slouched against a beam. That's it, he inhaled deeply. They'll not mind if you hear them. Seju untensed his jaw. Raised his cup again. Slurped loudly, letting some trickle over his chin. Dipped his head like it was his only mooring, thin lips curling in a grin. Listened.

“Took a few bales off that cromster, y'know the one that just arrived. The striped sails and all. That fat purser gave me double.”

“Double?”

“Double.”

“They must've been dirty, then.”

“That's what I thought, but I'll take it.”

Seju perked up a bit. That's something, he thought. Peering over the rim of his cup, he looked over the man who'd spoken of the vessel. Dirty hands jutted from a robe. Braids projected under a square cap, hanging against skin like milky coffee. Big nose making him ugly. Zigzags of black and red on his shawl, seeming a bit alien. Knotted beard like that of his comrade. Seju figured they'd just come from the wharf. There might've been illicit goods, but then again, what wasn't these days? This wasn't the kind of rumor he was after, though.

Brushing against the plaster, he kept his ears peeled. Three men slumped at a trestle, all ringmail and bearded jaws, looking like hell.

“Y'hear about those giant tarantulas?”

“Nope.”

“Ain't certain of it.”

“You want to?”

“Nope.”

“Nope.”

Seju gazed at the tarantula man, recognized the possible chagrin in the man's gimlets. The shrug as the jug was passed around again. Seju moved on.

“There we were, y'see – her with the axe, me with just a sausage in my hand. Tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't have it. The devil fire was in her. Didn't make any sense to me. I've only talked with that floozy, you can ask anybody. I just wanted to get out of there, but my old lady wouldn't let me, the crazy bitch. She kept swinging the axe around, just about hacked off my ear with it. Can you believe that? Broke up the best chair into kindling. She bangs up the kettle. Boiling soup spills over the fire, so now I've got no supper. Smoke billows all the way up to the rafters. Then I'm just coughing and stumbling. Trying to get away from her, but she came at me again. That just gets me upset, so I bop her a good one with the sausage. It stunned her a bit, I think. It gives me the opportunity to grab my britches from the ground...”

“Jem?”

“Yeah, wuzzat?”

“Don't want to interrupt or anything, but I've got to ask. What kind of sausage is this?”

“Pork, I'm told. Spiced with garlic.”

“Ah.”

“Why d'you ask?”

“Um, forget it. Then what did she do?”

Seju passed them, heading for the table where all the jugs were. There was a chubby woman in a head-cloth there. Torches poked from the walls. They gave off an acrid smoke that wasn't hasty in leaving through the hole in the ceiling. The haze made his eyes water. There must be something else, he scowled. There just has to be.
Last edited by Seju on January 4th, 2014, 8:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Seju
I like to grumble
 
Posts: 17
Words: 23291
Joined roleplay: December 7th, 2013, 10:40 pm
Location: Alvadas
Race: Human
Character sheet

Just Ain't Cuttin'

Postby Seju on December 21st, 2013, 7:18 pm

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Night arrived in a daze. Lamps guttered and went out, including the one over his head. Seju swirled the wine around in his cup. Plunged into gloom, he inhaled the smells of garlic sausage and spilled rum. Jeers bounced off the low rafters. Jugs scraped over tables. Eventually a boy came over, hefting a black and red-painted amphora in skinny arms. Juvenile teeth clenched a taper. Dipping a gourd into the amphora's tapering maw, the boy lunged up to fill the lamp. Seju noticed how the boy's hands trembled. Tiny beads of oil plopped onto the stones. Taking a shallow breath, the boy made the taper flare. Then he lifted it, and the lamp caught.

Yellowish light rushed over the corner.

Tendrils of shadow writhed under patrons' legs like serpents. The faces had changed, it seemed. Trestles ringed by scruffy men, a couple of spears leaning against the plaster. Ragged mendicants slurped up gruel. Swarthy women picked at pork ribs piled on a trencher, traces of what seemed like ritual scars on their chins. They licked at the juice covering their fingers.

Seju blinked. Took another pull from his cup. The game of bones was over. There hadn't been a big winner, just some grumbling.

Three men vacated the bench beside him, scaled armor rattling beneath stained jerkins. They were quickly replaced. The pair of men were older, one with sparse hair and the other a bit shorter. This man pulled at his crooked nose as if distracted. They both had rough hands.

“The staves were still green,” explained the shorter man. “Tried to fit them in anyway, though. They leaked badly, nearly fell out of the hoops.”

“You mean you even tried fitting them?” The taller man frowned. The clay cup halted before it reached his mouth. “You know better'n that.”

“Well, what was I s'posed to do? I just used up all mine.” The shorter man gulped at his wine. “It's so busy lately, I just don't have time to wait around.”

“I wouldn't have done it.”

“Yeah, well that's you talkin'. You got to take risks if you want to get anywhere, see? There were few that came out good, so I put them with the rest. That's seven barrels in all.”

“That doesn't make ten, though.”

Seju slouched against the wall. Tried to banish the itch under his chin. The corner of his mouth turned down as he considered leaving. This isn't working, he sighed. They've got nothing for me. His tail-bone ached and he was bored, but he just couldn't leave yet. He needed to get his fix. Taking a firmer grip on his cup, he gulped down the remaining wine, shuddered.

Abruptly, the single man sitting on his other side gave a snort. Seju looked at him while trying not to look at him, but failed. Tatty poncho draped over narrow shoulders, black and orange, or maybe it was reddish. Patches of iron-gray in the man's curls, a strange glimmer in his eyes. There was a scruff of beard on hollow cheeks.

Thin lips twisted slightly.

Seju realized the man was looking at him. “Y'got something to say, then say it,” he grunted. That grin made him uneasy. It seemed to strip away his glib deceit.

“I don't like talking,” drawled the man. “If I did, wouldn't I just talk to you?”

Seju bit his lip. “I don't know about that. It's suppose it's possible, but then again I don't know you. I wouldn't say that I enjoy talking, either.”

“Then why'd you talk to me?” The man just wouldn't leave him be. This wasn't going well.

“I don't know,” Seju lied. “I mean, I wanted to find out if you were smiling because you wanted something.”

“Does it look like I'm smiling?” The smile got wider. Seju scowled, unable to tell if the man was goading or screwing with him. There was a sinister patina over that smile, he imagined. Tried to pull himself together. The sooner he got away, the better.

“Yeah. You're smiling,” he replied.

“I'm just pretending to smile. I believe there's a difference.”

Seju crossed a leg over his knee. Tried to look calm at least, but his every nerve shrieked of failure “I mean, yeah there is,” he explained with a nervous cough, “but you're still smiling. It doesn't matter if the smile is faked. If you're smiling then, well, you're smiling.”

The man gave a shrug. “I suppose you're right. I'm also right, aren't I?”

“That's up to you. That bit about pretending is hard for me to see through,” Seju replied, then blurted, [b]“There a reason you've got an arm under your jacket?” That wasn't very subtle, and he immediately regetted it. The wine might've made him sloppy.

“That's easy.” The man grunted, and jerked his left wrist from under his poncho. “ This left one ain't got a hand,” he smiled wider, holding up the stump. This was getting grotesque.

“Um, I see.” Seju replied without thinking. The stump had him shaken a bit, so he pretended to sip from his empty cup so he wouldn't have to say more.

“Tell me,” the man leaned nearer. “You hear anything about, say, tarantulas?”
Last edited by Seju on January 4th, 2014, 8:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Seju
I like to grumble
 
Posts: 17
Words: 23291
Joined roleplay: December 7th, 2013, 10:40 pm
Location: Alvadas
Race: Human
Character sheet

Just Ain't Cuttin'

Postby Seju on December 24th, 2013, 7:23 pm

Image

Tarantulas?

Seju thought deeply, but he hardly recalled the men's faces. They hadn't uttered anything important. That's what he'd thought, at least. His cracked lips parted for a moment, but he quickly pressed them together again. He didn't want anything slipping out yet. He just raised an eyebrow. “Why d'you ask?”

“Well, I just thought I would.” The man retracted his stump. “We don't have to talk about it.”

“We don't have to talk at all,” Seju grunted. He didn't want to deal with the man's perplexing questions. He just wanted to leave. The man's eyes were still and drab, yet dangerous – like discarded musket balls. They seemed to look through him.

“But we do.”

“You said you didn't like talking.”

“Yes, I did say that,” the man pointed out, “but you talked to me. That means we've got to go through with it now.” This he said quieter than before, with a slight hiss. These weren't just banalities now. The grin seemed malicious.

Seju jostled at his cup, more forcibly than he'd intended. It skidded across the trestle before falling on its side. He sat there seething. His jaw tensed. He'd just been threatened, but despite his unease he wasn't going to let this indignity slide. “No we don't,” he snarled.

“That's not up to you.”

Seju jerked up from the bench, his head spinning with anger. He wasn't going to take this. “That so?” He gave a false chuckle. That was rash of him, but he didn't care right now.

The man clutched at his sleeve. “Tell me, then.”

Seju, already unsteady on his legs from the wine, sat back down.“Tell you about what,” he grunted. “The wax y'got in your ears” This was where he'd usually begin kicking and biting, but he was too scared for that.

“The tarantulas.”

“There isn't anything to tell,” snapped Seju. “Those other men didn't want to listen about them. Then everybody left.” The caution receded from him in a blur, and the pushed away the restraining hand. Tried not to look back as he slipped across the room.

Yanking at his pack, he frowned at the prickly heat on the nape of his neck and hurriedly pushed out into the night. Thick dark air pressed against him, and he blinked hard. It seemed like the square was slightly altered. Tall domes were tinged green. There were a few guttering torches. Twisted statutes seemed to have crept nearer the far side. They didn't matter, though. The imagined dagger grated against his nerves, aggravated the roiling dread in his gut. He risked a glance back, but nobody had left after him. He was alone in the square.

And he was desperate.

Seju hustled down the wall to his right, where stained plaster yielded to loosely mortared stone. He bit his lip at the jangling of his gear, way the strap bit into his clavicle. He wasn't willing to slow to put It on properly. Turning into a side street, he began to run. Striped awnings flew by him, their contours blurring into a greater darkness. Bereft wagons and piles of baskets gave way as he jolted over the cobbles. His heels slapped against them. He turned again, hastily flung himself through a yawning gate. This led to triangular garden that was swiftly transmuting to jungle. The battered doors, missing hinges, leaned against the wall. There was a scent of jasmine. Barren fruit trees loomed over him. Dry leaves crunched under his uncertain strides.

Vines tangled at his ankles and he staggered, caught himself with a desperate hand. There was a sting in his palm as it scuffed on the dirt, but he pushed himself back up and kept going, lungs rattling wildly. The rim of his shield bumped against his leg with every step.

The garden receded and he ran down another street, hurtling a pile of ceramics. There was a whistling in his ears. Tiny beads of sweat trickled down the curve of his spine. Time yawed with every street and covered passage he ran down, desperation draining before a waxing exhaustion. Taking a final right, he emerged in a walled courtyard. Took a furtive look around before he slowed, clutched at the stitch in his side. Upon closer glance, he saw that circles were cut into the ground, each ringed by a low stone ledge. They were filled with strange-smelling liquids, and he realized they must be for mixing dyes.

Seju dragged a hand over his jaw, was surprised when he found it smeared with wetness. Took a look at his palm through the dimness, saw that he was bleeding. That was right. The stumble in the garden. He let his pack slip to the ground, sucked in a deep breath. He bit his lip again, reached for the handle of his sword as he began to tramp around the courtyard. There nobody here, he told himself. There was just him and the dyes here.

It didn't feel like it, though.

The night was absolutely still. There weren't any yowling cats, or lovers' quarrels going on. The jangle of metal rings was the only noise he heard as came to a stop in a corner, by a stunted pine tree. There a ragged blanket hung off a pole. The corner stirred slightly.

His eyes widened.
Last edited by Seju on January 4th, 2014, 7:59 am, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
Seju
I like to grumble
 
Posts: 17
Words: 23291
Joined roleplay: December 7th, 2013, 10:40 pm
Location: Alvadas
Race: Human
Character sheet

Just Ain't Cuttin'

Postby Seju on December 25th, 2013, 5:45 am

Image

Seju jerked back, ripping out his sword as the blanket exploded with malice. There was a swirl of zigzag cloth. The slipping of shadows along the back of a hand. That fetcher, he snarled. Then a tulwar sliced out, biting into the segments of his leather sleeve before it jounced off metal rings. There was a jolting pain. Seju cried out, darted behind one of the circles. The man jumped it like a dervish. The tulwar whirled. Seju knocked it away with a clumsy swing, wincing at the jolt to his knuckles, and turned to skedaddle. There was a hiss as the tulwar parted the gloom behind him. Then he'd broken away from the man.

Terror pounded through his skull, and then something else pounded against his thigh. He tumbled. Tried to roll but failed, chin skidding against the rough stones as he crumpled, head spinning. He jammed his thumb trying to get He scrambled to his knees, groaning and desperate. The bulge of his pack was right there, his shield there as well. Then a boot slammed into his side.

Seju didn't go completely down, just grimaced and hacked blindly, dominated by his terror. That was bad. There was a sickening crunch. The tulwar scraped through the hides over his ribs, jerked wetly at his skin. Seju hissed and scythed his sword, catching a heavy slash of the tulwar. Took a frantic kick at a knee, and to his surprise, made his foe stagger Then he'd grasped the shield, brought it around so the tulwar careened off it.

“Think you're something?” The man backed off then. Tulwar spinning in his hand, he just stood there. “They did matter, dumbass. That's why this is happening.”

Seju slowly got up, spitting blood from a split lip. “Just don't kill me,” he rasped. “There was too much noise. Those men didn't say anything. They didn't say anything.”

“Think again,” grinned the man.

Seju sighed, tendrils of fear lancing down his spine, and looked down at the stones. That look was clear as ice. There'd be no getting out of this. “Then petch you,” he replied. Then rage surged through him again. This was just... stupid. “Take your missing hand,” he grated, “and stick it up your arse.” Then he lunged at the man. Took the tulwar on his shield, keeping low, and reached out with his sword. Tried to jam it into the grin but missed. The man pushed him aside.

Spitting like a mad dog, Seju hacked out again but the man just slithered away. Seju ducked behind his shield, felt the tulwar scrape at it. They were in close now, so he stabbed for the ankles. That didn't go so well. There was a sudden yank as a heel stamped down on the upper blade. The sword, ripped from his grasp, clattered on the rocks. Seju tried reaching for it, but just cut his hands as he scrabbled around blindly. The man kicked it away, slashed again with the tulwar. Seju yelled as the point gouged at his cheek. Recoiled, blinking away the sousing blood, and yanked at the handle of his axe. But it wouldn't budge.

Angrily, he stumbled forward. Tried to smash at the man, but he got turned around. The man grunted, kicked him in the ribs again. Seju groaned and began to stagger, but he curled around it. Took a grip on the leg before it receded, jerked the man close. Tulwar veering over his skull, he swiped out with the shield. The rim smashed into the man's jaw. Then the shield tumbled to the stones, ripped from his numbed hands. “That get your attention?” Seju snarled, seeing the man wobble. This might be his only chance. Tugging again at the axe, he rushed in and clenched at the man's tulwar-holding wrist. The man grinned again, spat out a gobbet of blood. The stump of the man's arm swept around, battered him down.

Seju grunted as the back of his head struck the stones, and he sprawled there groggily for a moment. Then the tulwar descended. The only thing he could do was roll to one side. There was a clatter as it struck just beside his cheek, tossed grit into his eyes. Seju had the axe in his hands then, and he jerked its curved head around one of the man's legs. The tulwar began to plunge again, but he yanked as hard as he could. The man yelled and tumbled over, ripping the axe away. Seju lunged while they were both on their hands and knees. Punched the man across the jaw, attempted to wrestle him down. The man just yanked him in. Then a bony forehead, complete with greasy curls, smashed into his nose.

There was an explosion of colors. Seju just whimpered. The lights nearly went out. Seju fell back

Seju didn't quite know what happened, but he quickly realized that a knee was mashing his face into the rocks. There was something clubbing him across the face, something fleshy it seemed, but he didn't remember what it was. “Errrgh,” he whimpered. Tried to get his hands up to make the punishment stop. The right was pinioned, so he gouged at the man's eye with the left. That elicited a yell.

The hand was ripped away. Then he got clubbed again.

Everything was distorted, the moon larger and pinker, devil-shadows dancing around braziers. Even the ants seemed jubilant. This was a shitty way to go, he decided. There had to be something he could do.

Seju gazed out through the mess of his eye, somewhat detached from his quandary. Then it came to him. Through the beating, through the hazy delirium that assailed him then, he ripped out his dagger and stuck it in the man's side. The point skittered off bone, so he jabbed it in again. This time it slid through, and he twisted it with all the might that remained to him.

That got the knee off his face. There was some frenzied thrashing. The dagger was jerked from his hand. There was a lot of shrieking, too.

Seju gazed up at the night for a while, began to giggle without knowing why. That hurt him a lot. Taking a shallow breath, he rolled over on his side. There was a surge of nausea and he vomited all over himself. The man was a little bit away, slouched against a wall of crumbling plaster. The zigzag poncho had a great, spreading stain, and his arms were flung out haphazardly. The left was swallowed up by the shadowy mouth of a nearby passage. There were blood bubbles at his lips.

They looked at each other.

The man tried to say something, but it was inaudible.

Seju just rested in his puddle, from which a few, sticky ants crawled. There was nothing for him to say. This was just a nightmare. That was why a pair of figures just stepped from the passage, their faces hidden by cowls. They stood over the man who'd just tried to kill him.

“There he is,” came a deep grunt.

“There ain't much left of him, though.” This was a female.

“Then take him.”

Seju watched the female lower herself on her haunches. There was a quick jerk. The dying man gave a shudder and then was still. The female fiddled with her robe, then placed her palm against the man's forehead. Seju squinted at them. There was something there when she took it off, maybe paint.

“And what about this one?”

They were talking about him.

“We'll leave him,” replied the man, and without hesitating, they silently vanished into the passage.

Seju began to tremble, looked past the dead man to the cracks in the wall. There was a pair of tiny red eyes, the judging eyes. The lizards had seen it all.
User avatar
Seju
I like to grumble
 
Posts: 17
Words: 23291
Joined roleplay: December 7th, 2013, 10:40 pm
Location: Alvadas
Race: Human
Character sheet

Just Ain't Cuttin'

Postby Tapestry on January 23rd, 2014, 4:55 pm

Image
Your Reward is in the Weave!


Seju:

XP Award:
  • +3 Intelligence
  • +2 Detection
  • +3 Observation
  • +2 Rhetoric
  • +3 Short Sword
  • +2 Shield
  • +1 Battle-axe

Lore:
  • Intelligence: The Art of Listening
  • Assassins: Those who leave a white hand-print


Comments :
Seju will need to seek medical attention within two days for his injuries. If he does not, he will come down with infection on the third day. If proper medical attention is sought, wounds should be fully healed in twenty days. Strenuous activity before that time will aggravate the wounds.

If you feel I missed anything, let me know. Sorry this took so long and AWESOME thread :)

TAPESTRY
Moderated threads 1/3

PM me! Let's talk plots.
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