Treasure Chest Of Left Behind Items

by **Brandon Blackwing** on January 11th, 2016, 9:10 pm

Day 8 of Winter 515AV

Yesterday Brandon had only just arrived, and already he had done most of the necessary things he believed were important to have gotten out of the way first. He’d informed after the state of affairs, the major recent events, and of course he’d exchanged the Pinions he’d earned in Wind Reach to Lhavit’s own currency; Kina. He had also found out that his house hadn’t been among those that had been destroyed by the landslide, which was extremely fortunate. If all his belongings rested below the Zintia peak, there really was no reason to stay in the Diamond of Kalea.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the case at all, and Brandon had been more than glad to sleep in his own bed, in his own house. Ah, and here he didn’t have to get up to work. Here Brandon lived by his own rhythm, doing what he wanted, whenever he wanted. The best way of living. Yesterday he’d been awake until the wee hours, so he’d slept all day, only waking up when the dusk rest was about to start. Ah, good old nocturnal rhythm that was absolutely no bother in Lhavit at all. Gods bless Zintila’s crystal city of duality!

Today he wasn’t going to do all that much, but what he would do was rather important. Quietly he padded over to the chest standing lonely against the wall, a large layer of dust gathered on its lid. To be fair, there was a thick layer of dust everywhere, even on the floor. Perhaps he should clean a bit, his house was in dire need of it, although housework was certainly not at the top of the Kelvic’s list of pleasant activities. He sighed, hated or not, it would have to happen, if only for the sake of the contents of his chest. He wasn’t going to place his beloved scarf in the dust! It’d only become a dirty rag if he did.

So he cleaned, borrowing a broom from his neighbors, sweeping all the dirt and dust bunnies out of his house. Despite the place being extremely dusty, it wasn’t really all that unclean. There were no rats that had infested his home, much unlike his room in Wind Reach; possibly a result of there not being any bit of food left in the whole of his residence. Well, that and Lhavit was quite clean, it had to be, with all those people who cleaned up the streets if the crystalline city for a living. Okomo droppings couldn’t –no matter how sacred the creatures were- be allowed to crust on the walkways. Never mind the sight, but think of the smell! Personal hygiene was not one of Brandon’s priorities, but no one wanted to have to walk through inches of crusted poop. The diamond of Kalea would get a different nickname quite soon, if that were to happen.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Brandon Blackwing** on January 22nd, 2016, 2:13 pm

At last, with his home cleaner than before, the bat kneeled down in front of the large chest he had used to store all his possessions in after having decided to leave Lhavit. Clothes, weapons, keys; all those could be found within, and to some, the inclusion of the aforementioned keys would be a problem. How would they retrieve them then? The chest was locked, but so had the front door been. When he’d left, Brandon had been in his bat form, having chosen to clamber through the chimney, as it would allow him to lock his house without having to take any kind of key or other lock-opening device with him.

Upon returning though, the bat had been in the possession of makeshift lockpicking gear, and thus getting inside his own residence was no big deal. The lock on the chest too was opened without any effort; for a man of Brandon’s skill, opening those simple ones was as easy as breathing. He opened the lid, and a waft of stale odor escaped. It smelled like himself, only stale and old. It wasn’t a bad scent, to be fair, Brandon liked the smell of his body and sweat.

The first thing that caught his eye was obviously the object laying at the top of the pile of all other things. Fragile objects were placed on top in order not to destroy it with the weight of the pile itself, but this piece of cloth was not fragile at all. It was a simple black scarf, one that Brandon had missed more than everything else he’d left behind. Carefully, the bat picked it up and wrapped it around his neck, bringing part of it closer to his nose to inhale the odors trapped within. He sighed contently. Naturally, Brandon’s own scent was strongly present, more prominent than the other, but that was not the one he was interested in.

It was the other scent he had missed, the true reason why his scarf was so important to him. His mother’s smell was in there, having crept into the fabric during the long bells of work she’d put in making the scarf, from all the time spent handling the fabric. Brandon suspected that actually sewing the cloth was not the part where most bells had been poured into. Lethia hadn’t said anything about it, but Brandon suspected that she’d been wearing the scarf for a while so her scent would be in there for sure. He smiled as he leaned back ever so slightly, memories flashing through his mind.

And then he frowned, a little sullen as he realized that eventually his scent would drown out his mother’s completely. He could counter this by not wearing the scarf anymore, but that would have the same effect. This item was meant to be worn, not to be lying about like some sort of trophy. Sure, within a couple seasons, maybe years, the scarf would smell of nothing else than Brandon, but that meant only part of the item had been destroyed. The part that amplified his memories, that made him feel at ease no matter where he was, that would be gone, but the scarf itself would remain, as would the actual memories. He sighed once more, pulling his face away from the soft folds of the black scarf.

He was reminded of something else then, too. Some sort of promise he’d made to Dru back in Wind Reach. He dug through the contents of his chest cautiously, placing the fragile things onto the floor. Then he found it, and pulled a grey shirt out, finding it was rather … worn. It was old, so it couldn’t be helped, but the amount of stitches and patches that had been used to repair holes and tears as almost ridiculous. Or so he would have thought had he not seen the majority of Turrin’s pants in Wind Reach. No, compared to those rags, this shirt almost looked new. Yes, this one would do; it was grey, it was old, and his scent was soaked into it to the point that he didn’t doubt it would take at least ten launderings to get it out, even if he stopped wearing it. In other words, it was perfect. Dru would love it.

Speaking of the Sym, if he hadn’t been paying attention yesterday, he might have believed she was still in Wind Reach, thus making it impossible for him to deliver the shirt. However, rumor travelled fast in Lhavit, and the word of a pregnant Symenestra roaming the streets of the crystal city had spread everywhere. If one cared to listen, one was always informed of the latest news and rumors. Some called that eavesdropping though, but Brandon couldn’t help being able to listen in on a whispered conversation even if he was standing a couple dozen feet away. From what he’d heard, the Shinya had assaulted her not even a chime after she’d stepped off of the Wind Eagle that had carried her. Well, he’d warned her about that, she’d decided not to listen. Still, it might be a good idea to check on her every now and then –from a distance, of course. And perhaps later in the season he’d go deliver the shirt, when people had adjusted to her… Hm. Perhaps he should write her an anonymous letter with the advice to go talk to the tattoo artists if she wanted to have a normal conversation?

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Brandon Blackwing** on January 24th, 2016, 2:23 pm

Those were worries and errands for another time though, right now he was going to do none of it. Instead, he grabbed one of the two masks he’d placed on the floor, a small black one with silver swirls. It took him a moment to recall where he’d used this one for, but once a sliver of a memory was caught, the rest came flooding back. As stated, this was a small mask, one that would cover only one half of his face, and just about all of his forehead. He’d worn this on a masked ball once, along with fiery clothes.

Speaking off, they were lying right next to him, so he grabbed the tunic and stood up, letting it unfold so he could inspect it better. As Brandon had only worn it once, the piece of clothing was as good as new, even after having spent more than a year in the chest. The bright orange and yellow embroidery felt too unfitting for the bat, which was likely one of the reasons he’d never worn it more than just one time. However, the clothes were comfortable too wear and move around in, they were perfect for a martial artist. Hm… the Azure festival was approaching, perhaps he should attend? He already had a mask, and the right clothes…

Bah, maybe, maybe. For now though, the Kelvic put the clothes to the side, reaching once more into the chest, fishing out a bandolier with six daggers. He checked briefly if their blade was still sharp and clean, and after contently seeing they were –Brandon had always made it a point to take care of his stuff- he put it on a different spot of the floor. The pile that would be formed there was for the items that he’d wear from now onwards. Brandon added the daggers and belts from Wind Reach to the pile. The gold dagger he’d gotten for his birthday went into the chest, as it couldn’t be used as a weapon, and Bran hadn’t figured out a task for it yet.

Then he found his winter clothes, and added them to the ‘to wear’ pile. They were nothing special really; just a woolen black pants, a brown shirt also made out of wool, and a long black coat. Brandon never buttoned the coat all the way, as he usually wore his bandolier under it, and he couldn’t reach his blades if he did. His summer clothes, made out of lighter fabric than wool, were placed on the fiery clothes, as the bat wouldn’t be wearing them any time soon. Plus, he was now missing a shirt, the old one would be given to Dru after all. Or maybe he should just go buy a complete new outfit? It would make sense; the set had gone through quite a few reparations, and his cloak was torn. If people found his winter clothes –which were in a far more decent state- already shabby, then what did they think of his summer attire? To Brandon, that didn’t quite matter as much, but it remained a fact that he needed new clothes, if only because these ones wouldn’t hold out much longer.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Brandon Blackwing** on January 26th, 2016, 7:19 pm

His leather armor was inspected next, the bat checking for tears and cuts. He found none though, as he'd never encountered the Shinya all that frequently during his criminal outings. Of course, there had been that one time where he'd actually been discovered, resulting in a fierce battle between him and one of the guards. A battle where he'd only barely escaped with his life and freedom still in his possession. However, without the help arriving when it did, he'd have been caught for sure. The result of the experience was positive though, as the Kelvic had become a lot more cautious from then onwards.

The black leather was put aside, along with the cloak that he wore over it, but the mask he stared at for a moment. A familiar feeling bubbled up when his gaze fell upon the mask, however, not all of it was anger this time. Sure, Kriegsfelt had been putting the Kelvic thief through a lot, and the bat had loathed the man, but holding the mask in his hands after all this time... it felt as if he met an old friend for the first time in years. A hint of a smile formed on his lips, and he pressed the mask onto his face, letting the cold clay touch his skin. In a way, he'd missed this. For some reason he felt really safe when wearing a mask, and this one was no exception.

He removed the face-covering then, carefully placing it on top of his leather armor, then moving on to grab the multitude of belt pouches still lying in the chest. One contained a small coin pouch, holding perhaps twenty Kina or so, as Brandon felt it wasn't a good idea to walk around with all of his money. Whether Lhavit was a city devoid of -or almost devoid of- crime or not, some things were better not done. Another pouch held a skyglass orb about the size of a small apple, or more accurately, the size of an egg, only not egg-shaped. Ah, the memories... Yes, breaching Elysium Hall had been quite entertaining, if not a little on the easy side. Nevertheless, fun was had, and that was what mattered the most.

Next up was the pouch that held his lockpicking gear; a couple lockpicks along with a tension wrench. They weren't all that special, the picks were really just small, thin batons with a hooked end, and a handle so they could be held comfortably. The wrench on the other hand, was a bent strip of metal, long and thin, with the bent part on the end. He inspected them for a bit, checking the quality, as well as searching for any bent parts that weren't supposed to be bent. The wrench was a bit chipped in places, but the bat was quite sure it was still more than usable. He nodded contently, and put the tools back in their pouch.

Lastly, the belt pouch which held the glass cutter, the newest acquisition of the bat -though it wasn't a recent one. It was far larger than he remembered, though in retrospect it did make sense; its purpose was to cut a hole in glass planes, a hole large enough for an arm to fit through. Brandon spun the handle, and by extension the diamond knife hidden within the cone. The action felt smooth and was silent, a testimony that all those days in the chest had not had any detrimental effects on the mechanism. Good. However, the adhesive on the cone had dried up, and the flask with more of it was nowhere to be found. He frowned. He'd probably ran out of it before he left... which meant he'd have to get a new phial of the sticky stuff from the Starry Chalice some day. And while he was there, he could get himself a bunch of flammable philters too.

Those were all tasks for another time though. For now, the bat placed his stuff back in the chest, the things he might need soon easily accessible. His winter clothes, belts, tools, and daggers were all hung over a stool though, as he'd need those daily. He stood up then, stretching briefly, and padded to the window, pulling the curtains aside far enough so he could cast a glance outside. It was still light, though twilight was about to set in. Dusk Rest will be upon us soon.... maybe I should sleep a little too... He yawned then. Yes, perhaps that was a good idea.

Credit goes to Nyxie Nadira Draer

by **Bee** on March 12th, 2016, 5:10 am

Pollinating Your Grades!

Brandon Blackwing

Skills

Lores

Rewards/Consequences

Notes :

Solo Treasure Chest Of Left Behind Items