Brandon Blackwing's Day Off

by **Zhol** on March 24th, 2015, 8:43 pm

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"Cyphrus," Zhol confirmed and corrected quietly, much more politely than he might have done if Brandon hadn't brandished his wounds. Drusilla had told him that her little wounded bat had been attacked by an owl, of course, but it took until now to make the connection, to realise that the wounds of Brandon's magical bat form transferred across to his seemingly human self as well. That explained things, he supposed: perhaps Brandon had deceived Drusilla about his nature for so long because he had been stuck, unable to transform into a shape that was able to speak. Was that how it worked? More questions about kelvics flooded his mind; he'd have to learn the answers to them later though, preferably from someone more disposed to being helpful.

"And you're right: there wasn't anyone standing there with open arms to welcome me. I didn't even arrive alone: I came with a whole party of people, an expedition from Alvadas. Some of them wanted to reach Wind Reach; some wanted to learn about the Inarta's glassblowing methods, or just to see a wind eagle up close; some were just along for the journey, wanting to hike through Kalea's treacherous regions just for the sake of it. I -"

He frowned, nose wrinkling as he contemplated what to say. He didn't want Brandon's sympathy; but more than that, he didn't want to seem as if he was seeking it either. "I am from Endrykas. It's like Wind Reach, only worse. In Wind Reach, if a wind eagle chooses you, you are an Endal: treated like royalty. Everyone else is respected for their role, their skills, and their use to the city: artisans and hunters above labourers, and so on. In Endrykas though, if you have not been chosen by a Strider - an especially intelligent breed of horse - to bond with it, you count for nothing. You are not just a lower caste; you barely count as a human."

He shrugged; his tone was oddly calm and factual, given the sensitivity that the subject held for him. "That was who I was. I allowed myself to be initiated in reimancy so that I could try and earn the attention of a Strider; but my first element manifested as fire, and after I lost control my family forced me to leave. I left the only home I had ever known in the summer, three years ago, and didn't arrive in Wind Reach until the following spring. I spent two and a half seasons circumnavigating Kalea to get here. I struggled to be here. Earned my place here. The fact that my skills make me an Avora - make me more than the nothing I was at home - is the only scrap of respect that an outsider like me, like us, can hope to have."

He hoped against hope that Brandon would listen, that he would take onboard the vital wisdom, the vital understanding that Zhol was trying to impart. "That's what matters here, that's what is important: respect. In Wind Reach, respect isn't earned, it is mandatory: even if someone has lost your respect, or never even earned it, if they are a caste above you must respect them - to their face, at least. If you do not, then it is within their rights to treat you as they please, and take from you what they please, up to and including your life."

There was more sincerity in his words now, but still that undertone of urgent hope that Brandon would listen. Annoying as the kelvic had been thus far, the treatment that Endals and Avora could - and did - inflict on the lower castes was not something he would wish upon even his worst enemy; not even upon the blacksmith who had harmed Khara; not even upon his own father.

"This is a city where rape, beatings, executions, and every prejudice under the sun are not merely tolerated, they are an essential part of life. You -" He searched for a way to word it delicately. "- seem comfortable taking things for others, without earning them. That is dangerous here. The only trials here are trial by combat, and there are no prisons: the only punishments are flogging, exile, and death."

"Keep your head down," he finished with a sigh. "Use it before you act; else you'll more than likely lose it."

He hoped the bat would listen. He hoped the bat had enough wits about him to at least watch his step until he learned his way around possibly. Brandon seemed like the kind of man who liked to flaunt, and dodge, and evade the rules; a choice that he was free to make, but hopefully he would be wise enough to learn those rules before he began trying to exploit them -

A wave of dread washed over Zhol as Brandon collided with the Endal, made worse by the tone in which the bat had answered back. Oh, Brandon... for a moment, Zhol wondered if he should simply stand there in silence, and let Brandon learn his lesson the hard way. The Endal would not tolerate such insubordination; a painful punishment would no doubt be in store, and Brandon very much seemed like he deserved - and needed - one of those. Agony was the strongest teacher, after all. On the other hand, Brandon had already proven that he was quite formidable, whereas this Endal was an unknown quantity. True, most Endals were tough, but if this Endal did resort to violence, might Brandon be capable of defending himself? Might he dig himself in deeper, escalating the situation, turning the minor misdemeanor of insulting an Endal into the serious crime of assaulting one?

Zhol's decision made itself for him. He placed a gentle but firm warning hand on Brandon's shoulder. "Forgive us, Endal," he cut in, just enough deference to sound respectful, but little enough to avoid sounding like he was fawning to his social better. "This one is new to the city, and he has not yet learned how to distinguish one caste from another."

"Perhaps I should educate him," the Endal warned, his switch to Nari a clear attempt to demonstrate his lack of respect for the new outsider who presumably couldn't understood a word of it.

"Allow me," Zhol countered, glad that he had worked so hard to make polite phrases and social graces a part of his fledgeling command of Nari. "I am an Avora. Allow me to discipline this one on your behalf."

He added a quick glare in the bat's direction, his voice taking on a hushed tone. "Apologise to the Endal, Brandon," he urged firmly, a silent prayer uttered to Eyris to grant Brandon the wisdom not to dig himself deeper into this hole.

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 25th, 2015, 6:35 pm

An Endal, just his luck. Zhol's speech from barely a chime ago sat still fresh in his memories, along with the warnings he'd given Brandon. The switch to Nari did not sit well with the bat, and when Zhol urged him to apologize, an almost pleading glance shot in his direction, the Kelvic pondered. His mind raced, his rational side kicked in, clashing with his pride and his view of himself. Endal could make his life a living hell, but on the other hand, Brandon was just as capable of returning that favor. Burning down buildings, pickpocketing, breaking and entering... he had done all that before, he could do it again. He could follow this Endal, track him down day in day out and make sure that his prized possessions disappeared one by one, that the money he'd earned vanished from his pockets and that his house burned out. True, a cave was hard to hurn down, but that didn't mean the fire couldn't easily destroy the inside of his house.

Respect, show respect. Impossible, Brandon could not give what he did not have, and as such he couldn't give this Endal, or any Endal what they wanted so badly. But, his mind cut in, humans have this obsession with politeness and often confuse the two. Show the man how polite you can be, wear it like a mask, just like you always have. In Lhavit the social mask was never necessary, unless you passed a Shinya patrol, right? It's the same thing here, it's subterfuge. Yes, it had a point, but Brandon had no desire to be ordered around, it wasn't just because of Kriegsfelt's blackmailing, it was because the tone very much annoyed the thief. He couldn't stand it. He didn't want to do anything when he did not want to. He wanted to do his own thing, his way.

But why had he come to Wind Reach? His mind chose to remind him, flashing memories, images and spoken lines through his mind. Lay low for a while. Hide where the Shinya could never find him. Lay low. Getting in trouble would only jeopardize that goal. There were no prisons here, only corporal punishment and trials by combat. The latter did not scare the bat at all, not in this stupid city where the highest ranked people attained their status by luck and could do little more than fire a bow. The Endal in front of him was muscular, yes, his torso was. He had abs he proudly displayed, a broad chest and set of shoulders, and his biceps were buff too. However, that was all there was to him, it was the body of a bowman, not a fighter. True, there was a strange sword dangling at his hip, but the bat guessed he used it sloppily, using his arms and not his whole body. His blade was not an extension of himself. Not if he used it that way.

Bowman on the other hand -Johnathan Lytlle, as his name had been- had been a boxer, his body had been way more bulky than this guy's. His punches had been extremely powerful, and rather fast too, and not only had he used his body to intimidate the bat and thus setting the pace of the fight, he had had a lot of defense because of that muscle as well. Fortunately though, as an archer he was quite bad, his aim rather off and eager to fight man to man rather than firing arrows at his opponents. Either way, Brandon was not quite impressed with the man in front of him, just as the Endla didn't seem very impressed with the bat either. True, though he looked fit, Brandon knew that his body wasn't the muscular sort. He could train to a certain extend, and he was surprisingly strong if he used raw strength alone, but barely a match for the likes of Bowman. Brandon's victories came from technique, tactics, speed and agility. As long as he was faster than his opponent, Brandon could win any unarmed fight.

However, even he realized that while he might have been able -no, that he certainly was able- to kill this man in three different ways as things were now, it wouldn't be a wise thing to do. He shouldn't waste his life on this city, it wasn't worth it. There were other things he needed to do, grand things, things that would earn him a reputation all over the world. Besides, he already had this guy's coin, this was satisfying already, right? Alright then, he'd put up a little act.

A bow was made, a real, genuine Lhavitian bow, though the bat didn't mean anything with that gesture. “I am terribly sorry for not recognizing you,” the bat spoke, imitating the exact same tone of voice Zhol had used. ”And-” And for your pitiful status. What did you ever do to prove yourself? Luck, pure luck. Getting chosen by an Eagle takes no skill. Depending on luck is idiotic and you should be ashamed for taking pride in it. “-for bumping into you.” There, he'd said it, was he happy now? “It won't happen again, Endal …?” The intonation of the end subtly encouraged people to give him their name, and people with mis-placed arrogance like this one were usually all to glad to spread their name. “Turil, you'd better remember that.” Oh, he would. “You are lucky to have slipped away without consequences, but next time I won't be so kind.” Brandon nodded a quiet “Of course,” and the Endal left, striding away full of pride and cockiness. Brandon grabbed Zhol by the arm and tugged him into motion, an encouragement to follow the bat while he slipped through the gaps between bodies like mercury. It was not without reason that Brandon hurried, for he wanted to be as far away as possible before the Endal put his hands in his pockets, if ever.

Then, after having asked Zhol for directions a couple times, he returned to his normal pace, he sighed, and turned towards the horse boy. “Looks like I might no be that great a fool after all,” he commented, “but I'll always be one nonetheless.” Another sigh, a hand ran through his man of hair. “I shouldn't have come here, Wind Reach clearly isn't the right city for me. 'Wind Reach, the home of scantly clad sexy redheads', they said, and I thought that sounded great. 'The Inarta are thrill seekers, daredevils, and have fire in their blood' they said. And I though I'd fit right in. Clearly this place isn't as idyllic as I thought it would be.” He grumbled, and frowned, “I'd been thinking I'd made a mistake when I was flying through the unforgiving, and it seems I was right. I should have returned to Kalinor, gods damn it!” Though he wasn't angry, but merely grumbling about it, the bat was and sounded severely disappointed.

“You know,” he said, his eyes settling on Zhol once more, “you said they saw you as barely human. I don't think that's a bad thing. I thought the Symenestra were just about the worst people you could have as company, but it turns out humans are no different. As far as I am concerned, all of you are the same. There's good people, there's bad people. There's annoying people and gentle people. Some nag about everything, others would stab you in the back for a jade kina. Except your appearance humans are no different from the Symenestra, you know? Besides, both of you believe to be the superior race,” he laughed at that, a rather sad bark, “Well, except some rare individuals, that is. I'm not different though. Either way,” the bat concluded, ending this consolation of Zhol to get to the point, “consider this a thank you for saving my hide...” A frown. “Or rather his hide. And mine by extension.” While Zhol hadn't seemed all that sad when telling Brandon about his past, and two years was quite a long time, the bat did want to somehow show his appreciation on the warnings. Zhol wasn't a friend, and he had made it quite clear he was helping Bran so Drusilla wouldn't be upset, but that did not take away the fact that Brandon realized he might have been dangerously close to committing a serious crime on his first day exploring Wind Reach. Not that it changed anything between the two of them.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Zhol** on March 26th, 2015, 2:36 am

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Zhol let out a near-silent breath of laughter. Gratitude from the man-bat? That was unexpected, and appreciated, though he wished it hadn't taken quite so much of an adventure to earn it. He studied Brandon, studied the look behind his eyes, the all too familiar frustration and resentment towards the Endals and the castes that Zhol knew all too well.

"It is not your hide that I am worried about," he admitted, cautiously glancing down the tunnel to ensure that the Endal - or anyone else for that matter - was safely out of earshot. "Not all Endal are the same. Some are kind, and honourable men; others are exactly the opposite. Some have what in Endrykas we call a burned grass approach. I believe in common it is called scorched earth?"

He frowned; the expression sounded strange, though it was sure it was the one that he had heard people used. He understood the premise at least - you did not only attack your enemies, you made it so that they could not ever return. Perhaps it was something to do with the strange custom that some peoples had of growing food - like the Inarta did, deep in the caves - rather than harvesting or hunting it. Regardless, he hoped it was an idiom that Brandon could understand.

"The bad kind of Endal will not only retaliate against you, but against those you know, and those you care for. That means Drusilla, at the very least. If you are not careful, harm will come to her..." A slight edge crept into his voice. "...and if it does, the Endals will be the least of your concerns."

He let that threat hang for a moment, his hand scrubbing across his jaw as he thought. "I know what it's like: you come to Wind Reach expecting one thing, and then you clash against the castes, discovering that it is another. But those aside, the Inarta are not bad people. There are exceptions, minorities; but the rest are bold, daring, and adventurous. They love a good challenge. Get yourself to the Fighting Pits, and you can knock as many Endals onto their over-smug asses as you desire. They fight against the harshest of conditions, and yet they win; sometimes it is a costly victory, like last winter, but they always survive. Always endure. They're a little stuck in their ways, but there are victories there as well: outsiders who teach, who broaden their minds, who question their indoctrination and manage to be free-thinking, kind-hearted, infinitely tolerable individuals."

A breath slowly sighed out of him, a hand clapping Brandon gently on the shoulder, careful to avoid the area still riddled with scars. "Be patient. Find a job that the Endal care little for, don't run at them head-on, and they will seldom get in your way. Subvert them when no one is looking. Petch, if you can fight as well as you boast, you could even teach; spend your days with the young ones, the Yasi; the ones who aren't beyond hope of change yet. Who knows: maybe even a shykewit like you could do some good in the right place."

"Besides," he chuckled again, more audibly this time. "I find it hard to believe that you haven't managed to get yourself on the wrong side of an asshole upper class before. Do they not have something akin to Endals in... wherever it is you are from?"

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 26th, 2015, 7:03 pm

Scorched earth approach? Brandon hadn't heard of the term before, but the description did ring a bell, and the ringing sound of it filled him with a cold sort of anger. His eyes turned harsh and his speech became akin to hissing. “Maybe. Maybe not. But if they do, they will have stuck their hands in a fire and find themselves unable to retract it, or quench the flames. If they'd try such a thing, I'll have their head.” He wasn't kidding, one time having someone he loved attacked because they wanted to get back at him was enough, and that one time had done enough to change Brandon. One such a threat would be enough for him to take action. This time he wouldn't wait, he wouldn't try to handle it subtly, he'd act immediately. A life for a life.

As quickly as it had come though, it disappeared. He raised an eyebrow at Zhol's words. “Ever met such a teacher? Sounds like some sort of story that's too good to be true to me.” Despite his words, he grinned, thinking of the other things the horse-boy had said. Fighting pits, challenge and beat the shyke out of Endals without consequence... it sounded great, but he was not naive in the slightest. There would be consequences, not in the ring but out. Grudges, Endals that might feel humiliated,... Still, he'd give it a try. Perhaps if he was lucky, he'd find Turil and get his revenge. He cracked his knuckles absentmindedly.

Brandon couldn't help but grin widely at Zhol's comment, he had to agree that while there were no Endals in Lhavit, he did had gotten himself in trouble with the nobility there. Well, it wasn't a surprise, seeing as he usually breached their homes. They had the most money, and usually more interesting objects to steal. “Well, there are no castes in Lhavit,” Brandon started with a shrug, “not in theory. But there's the wealthy folk, the common folk and the rather poor people. Upper class and lower class. Both classes have a bit of disdain for each other so they rarely mingle. There's the Shinya as an entirely different group altogether. They are the guards, they keep the city safe. Unlike Endals though, they have gone through rigorous training to become a Shinya; they're really tough. Not because they can wield their weapon of choice like experts, or because they are quite skilled in fighting unarmed, but they have some strange magic to their disposal too. Each and every one of them can use it. ”

He sucked in a breath. “It's not like reimancy at all. They just stand there, and tackle you without touching, they hold you down without being within an arms reach. I've even seen a man get knocked out while they were nearby. They didn't lift a finger. From how he collapsed, you'd think he was at the receiving end of a right hook. It was creepy.” It really was, it had freaked him out and it still did. A shiver ran across his spine. “I... might have gotten on their bad side,” Brandon admitted, “and on that of the Councillor Radiant -she's a high official in Lhavit.” To be sure Zhol understood what he was talking about he added; “Lhavit is ruled by Zintila, goddess of Stars, though people rarely see her. According to the rumors, she spends all her time in her chambers at the top of the twuele. That's a giant tower where the trials are also held. Anyways, two Ethaefal truly govern Lhavit; Aysel, the Night Lord, and Talora, the Day Lady.” A short pause to see whether Zhol was able to successfully process that information.

“So, those two take care of the paperwork, and all the other stuff the head of a city has to take care of. But, half a year ago there was some sort of council founded to take care of various things. Each member of that council would oversee a couple aspects. I imagine it was to diminish the workload a bit. Anyways, there was still only one Councillor when I left. I believe I got on her bad side pretty … badly...” No kidding, he had breached her home trice, one time for business, once to mock her and a third time when he had kidnapped her. Not to mention he had tried to start an uprising against her and burned down the house of one of her friends. Said friend also happened to be an Animator, so his deeds were justified, but still... there was a reason he'd fled Lhavit after kidnapping her.

“And then there's a whole lot of wealthy people who probably want a piece of me as well.” He shrugged it off as if it was nothing, and it truly was. Unlike Alses, who could identify him by using her magic, and the Shinya, who might have gotten his description from Alses, the various merchants and wealthy citizens had no leads on him, except the note he'd left behind. Fortunately, the only one of them who actually knew the bat's identity was dead, but that had probably caused only more trouble. Instead of theft and destroying another's property, he'd alos be charged with kidnapping and murder, if he ever got caught. The statement that he had gotten on the bad side of just about the whole population of Lhavit would be a serious understatement. “You have no idea what kind of trouble I would have been in if I had stayed... Though I can't say I don't miss that city. ” He sighed. If only he'd used his head a little bit sooner, he'd have been able to stay.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Zhol** on March 27th, 2015, 12:36 am

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Zhol's demeanour softened as he listened to Brandon's words. it wasn't that the bat had managed to earn any additional tolerance or patience for his behaviour - if anything, Zhol was even more convinced than ever that Brandon was reckless, and a dangerous, disruptive influence - but he did earn understanding, and empathy. It was becoming clear that Brandon was a slave to his nature: he was impulsive, he took and did what he wanted, and consequences were always an afterthought. Part of Zhol looked down on such things; but another part pointed out that Zhol was very much the same in a way, just as driven and manipulated by his fiery nature, just as judged by factors about himself that he could not control. Beneath all the specifics, there was a core of truth that the two of them had in common: they had both been forced, reluctantly, to leave their homes, simply because of being what their lives had made them.

He struggled to understand his way through all the names and terms that Brandon uttered. Day Lady? Night Lord? The city, ruled by Zintilia - an actual goddess, ruling an actual city? Zhol had never heard of such a thing outside of children's fables - or at least, what he believed to be such stories. Had any of those tales been true? Were any other such cities real? Zhol's mind griped beneath the weight of it's sheltered education. How much more was there about the world that he simply did not understand?

The guards though? They're magic, to touch without touching? That he had heard of, though he couldn't recall the name. He rolled the unfamiliar word that Brandon had used to describe them over in his mind. Shinya. Perhaps the Enclave would have more to reveal about such intriguing things.

Zhol frowned, gathering his thoughts, and sifting through them for the relevant ones. "You seem to be labouring under a false belief," he pointed out gently, trying carefully not to make it an accusation that would raise the bat's hackles. "While it is true that the Inarta need only be chosen by a wind eagle to become an Endal, their arrogant nature is not unfounded. Endal have a responsibility to hunt for the city: they forge themselves in the Unforgiving wilderness that you flew over, day after day; and when they are within the city, they forge their skills in the Fighting Pits, over and over. They guard the city much as the Shinya you speak of, keeping watch from a tower on the side of the mountain. The wind eagles were the magical protectors of Ivak's prison, and they chose - and choose - those who they believe will make worthy allies in protecting the city. They live to fight, and their ego drives them to become as formidable as possible. Endal are not just chosen by chance; and being chosen is only the beginning, not the be all and end all of their existence."

He let a ponderous, conflicted silence fall between them. "Just use your head, alright?" Zhol wasn't entirely sure what sentiment he was trying to convey. "Think first, before you do anything stupid. You're still an ass, but..."

He shrugged, mouth echoing the motion of his shoulders. "You were jut forced out of one home. Don't be so eager to rob yourself of another."

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 27th, 2015, 1:13 pm

He listened attentively to Zhol, after having ignored him once, he did realize that in order to adapt, he indeed had to use his head. In Lhavit he'd always managed to be invisible as long as he didn't wear his mask, and even if he did, there had been only a couple people who got a good look of him, while the majority of the people that claimed to had only caught a glimpse, or hadn't seen him at all. It had been easy in Lhavit; pickpocket in crowded places, hide in the crowd. Steal by night, conceal your face, wear different clothes. Incognito didn't exist by day, only by night, and even then some people had doubted that there actually was such a person. There had been at least one investigator who had believed Incognito was just a tall tale people had made up, gossip spun out of control.

Brandon had to admit that the horse boy's words actually made sense, it was only natural for people to try and become stronger and tougher, especially so if they were supposed to guard the city. So, the Endals trained rigorously, but what did they train exactly? As far as he knew the Inarta were not really skilled in any form of Martial arts... Perhaps they just trained their bodies to increase their strength? It would make sense, even without technique, strength could even the playing field... Or was it the strange sword they trained with? Brandon had never seen such a blade before, so it could be that... Well, he'd find out. Either way, his black and white vision of the caste had been shattered already, things could never be nice and simple. Friendly Endal, riders that trained to strengthen their bodies... He sighed.

Well, if they were as tough as Zhol believed, there was one thing except staying out of their sight that the bat could do. He could prove that he was even tougher, that he was more dangerous, that they'd better not mess with him. Of course, that meant that the Kelvic would have to start training more himself, not on physical strength, but on endurance, stamina and technique. Apart from the basic weak spots he exploited now, and pinpoint blows his mother had taught him, he would have to broaden his knowledge of the humanoid body, and develop new methods he could use in combat. Yes, Lethia had taught him well, she'd noticed from the start that Brandon wasn't build for strength like she was, and had advised him to focus on speed, as well as showing him how to exploit the built-in weaknesses of the humanoid body.

A reputation, that was what the bat needed. Challenge those tough Endals, beat them, and grow as a martial artist. Run more, work on flexibility and become even more evasive and untouchable than he already was. He'd have to become slippery as an eel, he'd have to be able to keep calm and objective. Meditation should help to clear his mind and stop him from slipping up. In both body and mind he'd have to become unmovable -well, more in mind than in body. Increase his focus and stop him from overlooking things, every detail was important. The thief's observational prowess might already have reached its limit, but that didn't mean Brandon could use it to its full potential; more often than not he was not concentrated enough, his mind wandering and thus making mistakes. His confidence didn't help. True, it was a shield that aided in preventing the bat to be intimidated by his opponents, but it had its downsides; more often than not he tended to underestimate his foes, as illustrated by Zhol's description of the Endal.

“You're right,” the bat sighed, rubbing his face, “I've been making too many bad decisions lately.” Another sigh, and the ascension of a flight of stairs. It seemed they were reaching the upper levels of Wind Reach already. “Don't worry, I'll be laying low, that was the purpose of my coming here anyway, believe it or not.” He grinned at that, knowing he'd have to try a little harder, he'd actually failed that objective already. Today he had at least. “Anyway, are we there yet? I wouldn't want Dru to know I've slipped away while I was supposed to take it easy and rest.”

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Zhol** on March 29th, 2015, 9:35 pm

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Are we there yet? Really?

That was a phrase that Zhol had heard a hundred thousand times. Each time Endrykas moved, each time his family began to carry their pavilion and their belongings from one camp ground to the next, every few dozen paces one of the children would ask that question. Were they there yet? How much of the a few more hours had faded since the last time they had asked, mere minutes before? It was a complicated blend of impatience and intentional desire to irritate the adults as much as possible; and in that latter regard it always seemed to work. Zhol couldn't help remembering the answer that his mother had always given, whenever she'd been in earshot. Only a little further. Just over that horizon.

A knot tightened in Zhol's stomach; here within these weaving tunnels, there was no horizon. There was no sky above; no grass underfoot. Mostly it didn't phase him, but there were times when it did; times when the warrens felt more like a cage than a safe haven. That was the secret benefit and secret relief of working in the stables: Zhol might not have the skills necessary to venture beyond the city as a scout or a hunter, but at least his line of work gave him an excuse to have sky instead of mountain above his head from time to time.

At least Zhol had managed to have a small impact on the bat, though; that realisation allowed the knot in his stomach to unfurl a little. That reluctant You're right had felt like a victory, and while Zhol doubted that Brandon's assurances that he would lay low and think before he acted would hold true in the end, for now at least the intention was there, and that wasn't nothing.

"Not even nearly," he replied eventually, fighting the urge to smile. That wasn't his mother's answer to the question, but rather his eldest sister. Despite not being Etha's child, Lillah had grown to echo her in many ways; but while Etha's loving torment of her children was gruff and stoic, Lillah's was a little more mirthful and teasing. When Zhol, Dinah, and Yahalla had been small, it was Lillah that had told them stories about how eating their vegetables each meal was a way to confuse the grass, to make it think you were one of it's own so that the ground would not open up and try to eat you. It was Lillah who had told them that their destination was an arbitrary number of paces away, forcing the younger children to count their steps; if they reached that number before they reached their destination, Lillah would insist that they must have made a mistake, and would make them start over. It was Lillah who had told him that certain fruits - usually whichever fruit she happened to have readily available - would numb the pain and help his scuffs and scrapes to heal faster, just as a way to stop him making a fuss. It had taken many years for Zhol to see through those ruses; it hadn't been until the first time that Zhol had visited the infirmary in Wind Reach that he'd come to realise that most of Lillah's medical advice had been untrue.

Thoughts of home threatened to rob Zhol of his smile, but he managed to reinforce it instead, trying to channel some version of Lillah's wit and mischief into his words. "If the walk is too much for you though, we can always stop and rest. That was probably why Drusilla didn't want you to leave: must've known you were too weak and frail to walk around Wind Reach without getting tired out."

by **Brandon Blackwing** on March 30th, 2015, 3:12 pm

“If I’m too weak and frail to roam the city, then that would mean you are even more pathetic,” Brandon countered with a wicked smile, and a sparkle of mischief dancing in his dark orbs. “In all seriousness though, my body has deteriorated a bit indeed; loafing around for nearly twenty days is horrible for your physique. But, I should be back to normal in a few days. I’ve been training to get back in shape, whenever Dru’s not around. She means well of course, but you have no idea how annoying her worrying can be. I do believe she really thinks I’m frail and weak; a little bat that needs protecting.” He snorted.

In fact, it was quite the opposite; Brandon was fiercely independent and relying on someone else was something the bat only rarely did. He had worked hard to be allowed to spread his wings and fly away, and being pampered didn’t feel right. Nor did being worried over whenever he actually did something else than just standing, sitting or lying down. And even then she would be concerned about the wound on his back, even though it had almost healed. There was no helping it, he supposed, as it seemed to be Dru’s nature, and in a way he could understand her feelings perfectly; she’d been forced to sacrifice every pet she had, people she cared about died or were abused. Of course she would worry about people.

While walking, the bat did his best to commit the travelled route to memory, mapping the areas he’d been to. A street plan of sorts, only this time it was more a maze of tunnels and caves. Usually he didn’t really succeed in remembering everything perfectly though, it took a while, a couple of times walking the route and then gradually exploring the tunnels around it, letting his map grow and grow. It would take several days, a dozen maybe of non-stop strolling, but knowing your way around the city was important, and once he succeeded, he’d have a perfect map of the city in his head. He’d know where he was, how far from whatever place he found himself, and the possible routes to get to his destination. And escape routes of course!

It was a bit of a talent, he had an aptitude for this, as well as patience, which hadn’t been the case when Gallan had tried to teach him how to write and read. With Symenos, things had been even worse. However, Gallan had been persistent and after having managed to convince the bat to put some effort into it, the Kelvic had picked it up and eventually he had been able to read fluently, and write rather well. That said, the mustached man hadn’t been able to fix Brandon’s handwriting.

But yes, it seemed as if the bat had always had a talent for just about anything that was connected to larceny in any way. Or maybe it was just that Brandon was really interested in those things and actually wanted to learn and use them. He didn’t know, and to be honest, he never thought about it much. Maybe he was destined to be a thief, maybe not. Either way, he couldn’t deny that he was gifted in his area of expertise, but that didn’t mean it had taken a lot of effort from his side to actually get the hang of things. Despite what others might think of him, Brandon did work hard; however only on things that piqued his interest or he liked doing.

After a while, the duo finally reached the aeries where Dru lived, easily recognizable by the wreath-like decoration, the vine that marked the right place. But before that came a lengthy flight of stairs, and Brandon made it a point to dash to the top, if only to prove to Zhol that he was at least twice as fast. Running up the stairs with three treads at a time was an exhausting task though, and by the end of it, the bat was out of breath, panting like an old dog. Racing Zhol had made him push himself to the limit, even though he wouldn’t admit it, and the thief decided he needed to schedule in some roadwork when getting back into shape. Nevertheless, it was rather satisfying to see Zhol all worn out and in an even worse state than the bat was; a horse trainer was no match for an athlete. Zhol had probably realized this as soon as Brandon had proposed his challenge, and had declined, but after having declared that the loser would be a mule’s arse, he’d been able to get him to run anyway.

All in all, it had been a great day off.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Estrellir Konrath** on May 13th, 2015, 5:08 pm

Zhol

Observation +2
Reimancy +1
Intimidation +3
Socialization +2
Negotiation +2
Rhetoric +5
Larceny +1
Philosophy +1
Storytelling +1

Brandon: Drusilla’s Bitta
Brandon: Arrogant for a reason?
Kelvics: Animal senses in human form?
Brandon: Knows little of Wind Reach
Location: Tisuma Baths Laundry
Wind Reach: Provides clothing
Brandon: Questionable morals
Wind Reach: More than black and white
Social System of Lhavit

Brandon Blackwing

Larceny +2
Tactics +3
Socialization +2
Subterfuge +1
Rhetoric +3
Investigation +1
Intelligence +2
Philosophy +1
Storytelling +1
Land Navigation +1

How to pick locks with a spoon
Zhol: Reimancer
Zhol: Fiery temper
Zhol: Drusilla’s brother
Zhol: Left-handed
Zhol & Khara: a couple
Wind Reach mentality
Location: Tisuma Baths
Wind Reach: Provides clothing
Cyphrus: Where horse boys live
Wind Reach: Respect is mandatory
Wind Reach: More than black and white
How to survive among Endal

Pouch with 7 pinions

Notes

Interesting thread, you two! I lt was exciting reading about the dynamics between Bran and Zhol. I loved how they bonded over stolen clothing and the incident with the Endal. PM me with any questions or concerns!