Closed [Riverside Isle Park] Damsel in Distress (Razkar)

[Star]

Star kept quiet as the man smoked, nodding slightly when he said he was staying at Sunset Quarters as well. She was busy thinking about that boy in the only memory she had. Who was he? Why was she so sad thinking about him? Would she be able to find him one day? She sighed slightly and shook her head. She snapped out of her reverie when Razkar said "a child of Leth", turning her violet eyes to him and blinking tears she didn't even realize were there, away. "Yes I would much prefer somewhere more peaceful but where should I go? I have no money, no transportation, no food. I'm lucky that I don't need to eat when Leth shines, though the hunger pangs do bother me when he leaves the sky. But I can handle it I guess. Most of the time. If not, I can try to beg food off someone. I fell from the sky here quite a few seasons ago and traveled away and that's how I survived. "

[Razkar]

She was bizarre and barbarous and what sympathy Razkar had was reserved for for few in the world and fewer beyond the jungle... and yet...

"I am sorry for your disappointment," he said, sad smile following a shake of his head, "The gods have... a strange sense of humor, letting you fall from a place so peaceful to one so... cruel."

He could think of no better word to describe Sunberth, Myrian or not. The very nature of the city seemed designed to turn everyone on everyone else. The mob was public opinion; the sword wrote laws and killers prospered where kind men were ground into the dirt and forgotten. Many would have thought such savagery would appeal to, well, a savage.

Razkar shook his head again. So little they understood.

"For you, though," he said, trying to inject some levity into his voice and following it with a brighter smile, "I would say... Riverfall. A beautiful city. Spires and arches of marble. Clean, wide streets, not these endless alleys. Law is... just."

The Myrian nearly choked on that, knowing full well their pompous "justice" had tossed him out on his arse a year before. Still, it was worth a smirk: they'd tried to kill him in the Arena, and he bested their champion, instead. No wonder they hounded him out of town.

No-one likes a clever bastard.

"The whole city shines like Leth at night," he said, voice almost coaxing, trying to pain the beauty and grace he had seen on the canvas of her imagination, "The water glows, not like here, where it just... oozes. The Color People, they are... difficult, sometimes. Proud. But their city is safe and there is plenty of work, I think. Better than here. A female of worth has no place here."

Before he knew it, Sunset Quarters were looming ahead of them, massive blocks of wood and stone dotted with scores of irregular lanterns. Each one was a pinprick of life, a whirling universe of dreams and hopes and fears and passions within a single room. Razkar felt his eyes shine as he tried to pick out his own, where she waited for him.

His love. His own great and unexpected adventure.

"Where is your block, female? I will take you there. Then I will go to my own. A word of advice?" He pointed to the bulge in her pocket where the brass knuckles nestled. "Learn to use those. And remember: grip it tight when you punch with it. The idea is to let the brass do the punching. Don't hold it tight enough, just let it rest over your hand, and when you punch, you'll grind it against your bones just as much as against his. Not a good idea."

Razkar stopped and cleared his throat a little when the female eyes him curiously. Eyes flickering around for a tick, he soon rallied and kept up the pace, letting her feet guide him.

"Oh, don't be surprised. Like it's a shock I know how to throw a punch..."

[Star]

Star smiled sadly and nodded when he apologized, nodding at his suggestion of a city as well. "Thank you. But what do you mean by 'the Color People?'" She led him, not to any of the apartments, but to what was left of the orphanage. They were still repairing it but if she stayed hidden in the wreckage, she'd be safe. What else could she do? She stopped at an empty window frame, listening to his advice. "Thank you for the advice and the help Razkar. I'll try to stay safe. And try to find a way to Riverfall. "

[Razkar]

"Who are they? You've never met an Akalak?"

He found it hard to believe, but one look at her honestly befuddled fast told Razkar that no, she hadn't.

"Oh... well, they are huge, strong males. They are all male, their entire race. Even the smallest are larger than me. The biggest?" He shook his head and blew out quickly, remembering the lethal behemoth of Kevlar, proprietor of the Blue Bull tavern in Riverfall and the meanest brawler he'd ever seen. "Make me look like you. But they respect their females... mostly. They have a... tradition, I think, for wives. They buy them. Almost like slavery. I do not understand it."

But he did understand that he was somewhat queering his pitch for Riverfall, despite having suggested it. What female wanted to go to a place wholly controlled by males, let alone males who regarded her gender largely as chattel property? So as she stopped before he door he cleared his throat a little awkwardly.

"Which is, ah, not to say it... it isn't a bad thing-No! I didn't... didn't mean that, I... ah-"

"Thank you for the advice and the help Razkar. I'll try to stay safe. And try to find a way to Riverfall."

Razkar regarded the female for a long moment. Face pierced and inked and scarred in a half-dozen places, but his eyes... they were deep and steady and brimmed with intent. He studied there... and then he smiled.

"I think you may at that, mistress. If you have need for protection, and if I am still around, try to find me again at the Pig's Foot. Ask Merv."

Because dashing hero I may be for a needful female, I'm not above advertising myself afterwards. A man has to endorse his trade, after all.

"Fallen From Stars." He said, adding a little flourish to her name that went with his mirthful half-smile, bowing low as any Myrian male would do to a beautiful and grateful female. "My your gods favor thee, and the night pass in peace."

Halfway down the hallway he turned with a forgetful snap of his fingers.

"Oh-" he held up his right fist and winked "-remember what I said about the brass knuckles."

Then he was gone, footsteps growing fainter as he left her to her business, and went back to his own: probably sleeping in their room, his side of the bed growing colder and colder...

Rakar smiled as he turned the handle to the door, eyes sparkling as they prepared to feast on that gloriously mussy mess of red hair.

He looked forward to warming it.