No Rest for the Needy (Brandon, Turrin)

by **Brandon Blackwing** on May 14th, 2015, 7:15 pm

Of course, of course Turrin had to retort once more. Brandon growled silently, turning his head with a snap and glaring daggers at the endal. The halfbreed was doing a really good job pissing him off. Face twisted into a beastly snarl, and fists formed out of once relaxed hands. The endal should thank the gods he was being protected by his status; enraged as he was, Brandon still had his common sense –kind of. Snapping at the highest caste was one thing, but assault was another. In most cases even the former was enough to get you into some serious trouble. Well, if it came to that, the whole of Wind Reach would feel the consequences.

He’d had it with this mountain filled with red-haired idiots. This place was in dire need of some remodeling, of a new social system, and of new, decent laws. The endal –nay, no-body in Wind Reach- had a clue of just who the dark-haired outsider was. They had no idea why Brandon was here, and what he was capable of. Assassinations weren’t his preferred jobs, but if it was to reform this stupid mountain… He’d seen enough during his short stay, he’d heard the complaints and his opinion had been formed. People being beaten to death was nothing strange here, especially so if it was a dek that had been killed. Thick off the endal and before you knew it you were thrown into the heart of the mountain. The lower castes were supposed to throw away their lives for the higher ones, and rape was commonplace here. Fear ruled the volcanic city. Fear reigned supreme.

A life in fear was no life at all. A life without freedom was no life at all. The essence of Wind Reach was survival; indeed, but surviving and living were two very different things. Too many pointless deaths, and for what? Three bowls of soup a day with some bread, a room and clothes? Don’t be ridiculous! And for that you had to work until your fingers bled? And for that you were supposed to throw your life away if the higher castes demanded it? Don’t you joke around godsdamnit!

“Tell me Turrin,” Brandon growled more than he spoke, “do I look like I care? Do you think I care about your past and your struggles?!” His eyes met Turrin’s and glared ferociously. “As for what makes me better than the others living here; I have a spine!” He finished the line with another spat. “And don’t you start talking about effort, endal,” the word came out like a curse, “I’ve seen a lot of people here who work hard. Long bells of labor, honest effort put in their jobs. Dreams behind their stares! And how are they treated? Like filth! They are the lowest of the low!” Yet another blob of saliva was fired towards the floor. Then he turned around, some more words leaving his mouth in the meantime. “Petch off Turrin! I’m not taking orders from you! I’m not taking orders from anyone! Only the gods can order me around, you simply don’t qualify!”

With that the bat truly left, his mood ruined and his body drawing lots of stares. Easily overhearing the whispered conversations with his keen ears didn’t do him much good as he understood no Nari, but he figured they were all about him. The way the people froze and turned away when he glared at them reinforced that belief. It seemed he’d have his reputation sooner than expected; too bad it was not that kind of reputation he was looking for. Tsk, the endal would hear about this without a doubt, sooner or later one of them would come to mess around with him. It was in their best interest they didn’t though; the more that would come after him, the more he’d start to loathe the endal, and the more he’d want to reform the city.

A hypnotist would be rather welcome at this point; foul magic, yes, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t come in handy. With even a single hypnotist it wouldn’t be hard to start some riots; the lower castes were already disgruntled, and a huge majority had pent up frustrations building inside on them. There wouldn’t even be a famine needed. Riots were just one part of overthrowing the system though, getting rid of the endal was another. If he’d understood everything well, the endal had put an end to the riots; and thus the endal had to be taken out. No big deal for a skilled thief like Brandon. He could enter and exit the aeries of just whoever he wanted without being seen and without leaving a trace. Slitting a throat, stabbing a heart or crushing a windpipe was no big deal either. That is not to say he could do it in cold blood though; taking a life was taxing for his mind. But if it was in the best interest of the city, it was justified. Besides, the eagles didn’t need a rider anyway.

Speaking of eagle riders, one was coming this way, his onyx eyes had no difficulties spotting her from afar. It appeared she was speaking with one of the people who’d been assaulted by the undead corpse; the man pointing and making gestures with his hands as the endal woman frowned. Brandon smirked, kind of glad to at last get his reward for today. His body changed its message, calling its charisma back to replace it with insignificance. Brandon started to slump, his head was held down, even his feet rotated a little, so the tips of his boots slightly pointed towards each other. The art of hiding in plain sight was not strange to the bat; he’d been practicing it ever since he’d started picking pockets. Modifying your body language had a huge impact on staying unnoticed, whether you were an outsider or not. Right now his body practically screamed “timid” and “insignificant”. “Not worthy of anyone’s time”, a message for the subconscious mind, which would chose to ignore his existence, because he was unimportant.

Like that, Brandon approached, mingling with the rest of the people strolling about, getting closer and closer to the endal woman. He reached her when she set off, the man leading the way, towards the scene no doubt. Heh, bumping into her would attract her attention, and bumping into an endal was just not done. Fortunately though, Brandon was not a novice thief, he did not necessary need a distraction to pick pockets. He just passed by, one hand quickly shooting out, swift like a snake’s bite, though soft like a breeze. Into her pocket, his fingers went, and the retreated with a small pouch of coin. A grin, yes, this would do. But don’t worry endal, you’ll get paid for your job and be compensated for your loss of purse at the end of the season. And then both parties parted ways, one not ever having noticed the other, Brandon slipping said party’s coin into his pockets. She’d find out her purse was gone sooner or later, but he hoped it would be in front of Turrin. And he hoped she’d search the whole market for it. By then he’d be long gone anyways, so she could search all she wanted, she wouldn’t get it back.

by **Turrin** on May 15th, 2015, 5:07 am

Turrin could tell that he struck a cord with the dark haired human, and the endal was even more convinced that the man was taking out his frustrations on the city at him. In Brandon's mind, the half-breed was a tyrant because he was a endal. Since he had all power, it was easy to blame him for all the bad things that happen in the city. It was a common tactic of the lower castes to dehumanize the upper castes both Avora and Endal alike for the crimes against the Chiet and Dek castes. Regardless, Brandon still made a arse out of himself in public because he didn't get his way. The eye witnesses of event in the market square will quickly call bird shyke when the hear Brandon's ludicrous story of him of dispatching the undead on his own with the help of Khara. If not, the Inarta were truly as brainless as their hair was red. However, Brandon made it apparent to Turrin that he can not be trusted. If the man got so unhinged over something as a trival as not getting a reward than the gods forbid when the rest of the endal hear about the events in the square. Insubordination was basically unheard of in Wind Reach, and the endal will quickly swoop down to put down any unrest. Brandon was luckily that he decided to vent his frustrations at him because any other endal would have pulled their talon sword or put a arrow in his stomach for his insults against them.

Turrin could only chuckle quietly to himself when called the Inarta spineless. The people who could understand common definitely were taken back by his comment. Brandon might think the Inarta are spineless, but he hasn't been here long enough to know it was far from the truth. A well placed arrow could end his life quickly if he didn't control his tongue. Honestly, Turrin could careless about Brandon's fate if the Inarta decided to execute him or banish him from the mountain. The endal told him his story to see if Brandon could see the individual through the caste, but the man was to blinded by his pride to see past the veil of caste. It was pity too since Turrin enjoyed fighting with him. He had a good sense of humor too, so they might have been friends if he wasn't so narrow minded. In the end, Brandon showed that he had no regards for Inarta culture or society as a whole. Also, he stated to everyone in the market place that he had no intention on following the commands of authority in Wind Reach. This attitude would ultimately mean bad things for Brandon Blackwing and anyone who decided to associate with him if he decided take his insubordination to the next level. Whatever the next level was though only time will tell.

As the Brandon Blackwing continued rant, the endal just stood there with a amused grin on his face. Turrin was impressed with Brandon's unarmed fighting abilities, but he was wasn't with the man himself. The dark haired human acted like a spoiled child when he didn't get his way. When he stood his ground against Brandon, the dark haired human started to complain about the working conditions of the lower castes. He stated that they were basically overworked and under appreciated by the upper castes. Turrin knew Brandon was only seeing it from a outsider's perspective. He didn't understand the man hours it took for a Avora glassblower to make their glass, or the endal who risk their lives in the Unforgiving every day to provide just enough food to keep the city from starving for another day. If it wasn't for the eagle riders, the city would starve. The wind eagles won't hunt for the people out of the kindness of their hearts. Only the bond between a wind eagle and rider kept the great bird of prey compassionate to the needs of the Inarta.

The Avora hunters and chiet game scouts can only hunt far from the volcano before they reach the end of the valleys. Turrin knew from rumors that the valleys around the volcano were over hunted, so the Avora hunters could barely bring back enough food to feed themselves at times. This is why Turrin considered humans like Brandon soft because they tend to come from cities with plenty of resources to go around. When they see the harsh conditions of the day to day life of Inarta, they immediately feel sorry for the red heads and try to change things! It was a sign of arrogance brought about by complete disregard for the Inarta culture. In the end, Brandon was just a entitled little man who wants to be make a name for himself at the expense of everyone around him.

To Turrin, Brandon was mentally a child trapped in adults body, and with his fighting ability of a seasoned warrior, the endal knew this dark haired human was unstable, unpredictable, and dangerous, and it was only a matter of time before he hurt someone. Spending most of his time in the ranks of the endal, Turrin couldn't stand most of them outside the War Hawks because they were as Brandon said they were, but he knew from experience that the War Hawks might be hot heads, but they tend to be good people. All his comrades in the War Hawks signed up to fight threats coming from either inside or outside of the city, so they all had a stake to see Wind Reach flourish and survive another season. They were soldiers, but they were mortal too, so they all had there faults. However, he doubt the majority would go out of their way to hurt the lower castes. God forbid any of his War Hawk brethren would loose their lives to this unruly idiot.

As Turrin watched Brandon fade into the crowd, the endal didn't say anything at first because he knew that he had a duty to report this incident to the Valintar, so he had a emotionless expression on his face as he contemplated his next move. Almost forgetting the original threat dangling in his hand, Turrin pressed his lips together in annoyance as the crowd seemed to gather around the endal, Khara, and the body of the dead dek. The myrian could hear them chirping in Nari as they discussed the events of the market place. The half-breed endal could only imagine the stories that will start circulating through the mob in the days to come. A abomination rampaging through the Courtyard of the Sky. A “hero” outsider openly defying a endal for the sake of the lower castes. Once again the savage myrian endal dismembered and ate the body of a dead dek. The beautiful and talent chiet game scout saves the Inarta with the help of yasi boy.

Turrin knew that he had to live with the reputation all his life, so the myrian gave the crowd a sideways look and yelled a command to the crowd, “Everyone disperse now and go about your business!”

The myrian watched as the crowd quickly started to fade until there was a female endal standing in front of him. He wasn't sure what flight she was from, but he was glad that she was here. The endal woman was attractive with long crimson hair and green eyes with a talon sword on her hip. She gave Turrin a smirk and asked with a chuckle in common, “You look like shyke, Turrin Aponivi.”

Looking over her shoulder at the direction of Brandon, the woman said with a shake of her head, “You would have thought the foreigner would be smart not to enough to argue with a man who holding a severed head in one hand and bloody sword in the other...”

Giving Khara sideways glance, the endal woman looked the game scout over for a moment and asked in a some what uncaring tone, “What happened her, Chiet? Also please be quick about it...”

by **Khara** on May 19th, 2015, 12:21 am

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Khara wished there was something that could be done, something that could have been said to sooth tempers, but it was a lot cause. The Chiet couldn't help but wonder what would be remembered more; the initial incident with the undead drudge or Brandon's outburst and condemning of the upper caste. If the hushed whispers were anything to go by, it seemed the entire event would share its infamy. Maybe it was for the best she couldn't come up with some sort of miraculous fix, enough eyes were on her as it was and already she could feel the instinctual need to shrink away becoming all the harder to avoid acting upon.

It didn't help matters when Turrin verbally waved off the crowd and soon all that was left was the half-myrian, the nervous wreck of a Chiet, and an Endal woman that Khara had never met before. Even if her inquiry wasn't asked in any particularly demanding manner, the smaller lower caste member still had to avoid the urge to flinch as she stared at her hands and began retelling the story as best as she could remember. It came out emotionless, matter of fact, each piece spoken with the same air that Khara had learned to use when reporting back on migration movements or new game trails. Of course there were embellishments, but only slight ones, ones made to make Brandon and Turrin's involvement seem all the more important than her own.

"I only helped to distract it," was about the most credit she could see fit to give herself. There was no getting around how she had fired the arrow that had finally set the monstrosity alight, but Khara did emphasize it wasn't her plan to begin with. Brandon had seen the creature first, had acted first when she had been too stunned to, had come up with the plan of burning the monster and keeping it busy and dismembered until then.Turrin's skills with a talon sword had even made it so that burning the body almost was a matter of cleanup rather than a necessity to remove the danger.

Whether the Endal fully believed her or not, Khara couldn't tell. That sort of understanding could only come seeing the other person's eyes and the Chiet wasn't about to risk such an impertinent move. Even with Turrin occasionally chiming in, and the gruesome evidence in his hands, Khara felt like it took bells before she was finally dismissed. Another quick look was given to Turrin, speaking silent thanks before the Chiet hurried off, oblivious to exactly what she was leaving the marketplace with, the familiar weight of a bow and quiver resting against her back entirely forgotten as Khara found herself more concerned with the same questions that she could only guess plagued the others who had helped to destroy the creature - Was this all just a freak incident? Or was the undead drudge another harbinger of even more troubles for Wind Reach?

"Nari" | "Common" | "Pavi"

by **Ssezzkero** on June 18th, 2015, 6:34 pm

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Khara

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