Closed [GST Approved by Gossamer] Rotten (Azmere)

[Karin]

"It's not much, I know." The woman gestured to her surroundings, the half-completed shawl, the mats on the floor showing signs of wear and tear. Ailych moved over to the door, and tied it half-open, just enough to let a little light into the gloomy interior. She bustled about whilst gesturing for Azmere to take a seat, before bringing him a drink of a hot tea, served in a cupped dish.

When he had it, the woman stood with her back against the wooden support that ran through the center of the tent. "You may have noticed that Rourg has been acting strangely. Truth be told, he's always been like this, despite this horrible situation with the strider. Our family is somewhat disjointed because of it. Maybe they don't like me for giving them a reason not to cast him out."

The woman shrugged her shoulders slightly. Her speech was lyrical and warm. Rourg stood nearby, but she spoke as if he wasn't there. The man's face held no recognition that he was being spoken about, but then after a while a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Ailych continued, smiling at Azmere.

"So you've done our family a great kindness," she spoke whilst vibrantly signing with her hands, helpful, grateful. Whilst speaking, and unbeknownst to Azmere, the woman threaded Djed through her words. Hypnotism was her game, her method. Like me, trust me, believe me, she projected. Whether the man opposite her would notice its effects and grow suspicious, or whether they would pass by unnoticed, or whether they would sink in, the woman had no way of knowing.

"We'll take care of Tailey, and send her off with the greatest respect." Once again, the woman smiled reassuringly. She then walked over to Rourg, taking his hand as one would a child, squeezing it. He blinked as if waking from a reverie, and glanced over at Azmere, with an afraid expression, totally alien on his face and just as unreadable.

[Azmere]

Azmere was about to sip on the tea when her body and words shifted. It was almost like there was a flicker in the small pavilion. The contrasting eyes flicked back to the parted flap where dust and haze drifted in the dim light of Syna who was mostly obscured by thin clouds of cold rain. Even though the water refused to fall, its dampness filtered to the land below in the form of a light humidity that clung to the watchman’s skin. He set the cupped dish down having not sampled any of the beverage. He turned his gaze towards the woman as she spoke about her husband as if he was not even there. There were just too many things not adding up for Azmere to feel comfortable but he did his best to remain calm and quiet. So far, it was working.

The archer was close to interrupting Ailych when he felt heavy. His tongue, his eyes, his mind all felt as if they’d been soaked in honey mead and then tossed into the river. His lids began to dance in a lazy, uncoordinated dance that left his head to occasionally bob down to his chin. Lulling back and forth, he felt more and more feelings that were foreign. Words became muddled and didn’t match the shape of Ailych’s mouth. Inside, the Drykas was calling for reason and order but his body was steadfastly refusing though his suspicion was that it wasn’t a random occurrence. The woman seemed to transform before him, his eyes parting the listless glow of the home and finding stray particles of warmth to attach to her simple form. Whatever was happening to Azmere, whatever was trying to control him was winning and he was fearful of what that meant.

Fortunately, the break he needed presented itself in the confused expression of Rourg. Azmere was in limbo wrestling with the forces that pushed at his consciousness trying to drown him in whatever sorcery was involved. The moment his eyes fell upon the other man, his companion for the morning, the powers against him briefly let up on their fierce grip. That was all that was necessary for the watchman to impose his will and regain his functions. There was a tick or two where the lazy eyes and rolling head ceased. Muscles tensed in his back and straightened him out but experience taught him to play wounded. Many predators in the wild, if hungry enough, will taunt or attract food by baiting another predator simply by feigning weakness. Azmere resumed the strange behavior that had previously been beyond his control. Now he was using it to try and learn more about his situation. As his grandfather would say ‘The grass can’t lie…but it can hold its tongue.’

The watchman rose and reached for his tea. In the sporadic movements, he spilled some of it on his hand and rather than apologize as a normal person, he simply stared at his hand with a blank expression. He turned that same blank expression with the uneven eyelids towards Ailych and Rourg. He allowed his jaw to slack a bit so that his words would slur just a little and made sure to sare directly at the woman’s nose. “I…am a Watchman.” He tried to smile but it was a more of a creepy grin than anything else. “I would be hon-“ He paused to swallow. “Honored to help someone as nice as you.” He kept his gaze fixed on Ailych while working very hard to keep up the loose-framed charade. It was very hard to control your body in a way to make it seem like you were out of control. He felt his legs and abdomen muscles burn from the exertion but he maintained and pushed through the pain. “What’s wrong ww-w-with Tailey?”

Scars are just stories that we wear. - Asmodeus

Textbox by Firenze

[Karin]

The woman smiled, softly, gently. She picked up a cloth and gently dabbed at his arm where the tea was spilt, before answering his question. If it weren't for the triumphant gleam in her eye, Azmere might almost mistake her actions for care. "Tailey is Rourg's horse, remember? How about we go and retrieve her body now, Azmere?" To Rourg she said, "You can stay here dear," before twisting her body to face no-one in particular, speaking in a hushed voice meant for no-body but herself. "I'm looking for a stronger man than you." The 'you' obviously meant Rourg, but the man didn't hear her, or at least didn't register her words.

Ailych gathered herself, and lightly touched Azmere's arm. At that subtle touch, she fuelled her djed, more subtly suggesting trust, and a willingness to overlook the oddities of the day. She was dancing a dangerous dance, and she knew it. Azmere's mention of his status and job had given her a warning, and her plan... well, she would have to tread carefully, very carefully indeed.

Rourg stood, with an abrupt clatter. "I'm coming too. She is my..- she was my horse." He was defiant, the couple shared a taut look before the woman nodded unwillingly, her head moving like it was being forced. "Yes, Rourg. Tailey was yours, before what happened to her happened. You can show us where to go Azmere." She picked up a set of daggers from the table and slipped them under her coat. Rourg looped a bow over his back, gathering a handful of arrows and placing them in a leather quiver. The preperations took a few chimes, but they were soon ready, they stepped outside. The other man went off and came back with a stretch of strong linen fabric, presumably for the corpse, whilst Ailych let out a piercing whistle. A wild looking Strider cantered up to her, and she swung herself up onto her horse.

They set off, with Rourg trailing behind, his lack of horse a painful reminder with every step that the situation was such a strange one. Ailych seemed more than content to fall in besides Azmere. There was something different- she looked twitchy, her gaze darting ahead and around and behind over her shoulder. After five chimes, she ceased her peculiar behaviour, and spoke with a low voice towards Azmere.

"Azmere, I need to tell you something. Truthfully, I've been looking for this opportunity for a long while. His horse... do you believe his story? Wild animals or raiders or whatever story he spun, it doesn't make any sense. I'm sorry that we were acting so strangely, but I suspect, well- that Rourg is a dangerous man. I have reason to believe... I have reason to believe that he killed Tailey." She signed disgust, horror and broke off. It was a big deal, a Strider was important, and the connection between a Drykas and his Strider wasn't one that was broken easily.

"I need your help. We've asked a lot of you, but I would like to ask one more, and that is, can you help me? He has magic, I think, I don't know what exactly. We'd need to be quick, I don't know what to do, I haven't known for so long, but maybe detain him? Ki-..." She broke off, unable to continue what would have undoubtedly been 'kill him'.

By this time, they had reached the sad corpse of the animal. Ailych shut her mouth as Rourg caught them up, and she dismounted her horse. It flickered its nostrils, and stood noticeably far away from the corpse. The flesh lay undisturbed as of yet, although a cloud of flies were hovering above the horse like a faint shroud made of clouds and death. Rourg crouched alongside his dead companion, face hidden from view. Ailych stood next to him, looking nervous, her dexterous hands twisting the handles of her daggers as she gazed at the man that was her husband.

She raised her eyes to Azmere, and in that instance she projected an image to his head. A brief flash of a feminine wrist, with a discoloured, angry bruise marring the skin. It was her wrist, but if Azmere was to look, he'd see no such bruise on her. All the while, she maintained the look of a damaged, worried woman. A woman who had something to fear...

[Azmere]

Azmere allowed himself to be cleaned by Ailych. The tea didn’t burn but he almost enjoyed having her wait on him. Her touch made him feel comfortable and welcome. He continued to feel this way even as they rose and began to prepare for another part of the journey. Today had been a weird one but in Azmere’s mind, things seemed to be making sense. The woman addressed Rourg and then said something to herself. While the archer couldn’t distinguish her words, he suddenly felt stronger and looked at the broken man with pity as one looks at a wounded animal. It was strange and Azmere wasn’t sure why but he felt drawn by the humble woman. He bright eyes and loose braid tugged at the unscarred corner of his lips trying to force a smile.

Azmere went outside before his hosts and walked to where Hephiestian was grazing on some sweet grass. The Drykas grinned in his crooked way and admired how the beast always found that little patch of clover no matter where they went. He patted the horse on the neck. The watchman felt overly drawn to his stallion with good reason seeing as how they had just come from the grisly murder of a noble strider. He mounted with ease and then Azmere took hold of the yvas handle. He waited a moment for Ailych to climb her steed and then they set off at a slow walk. During the course of the whole thing, there was a great deal of silence which Azmere enjoyed. He loved to be on the back of his horse and just took in the dreary day with a grateful heart.

After some time, the intriguing woman began a dialogue of which, Azmere was not a fan. He abhorred deceit and furthermore didn’t trust what he considered blind accusations. Ailych was making claims about Rourg being dangerous but she seemed perfectly fine. She bore no scars or bruises. No limp or impedance to her movements. Stranger still, Azmere realized they were going to retrieve the body of a dead strider. His brow furrowed. Drykas left the dead to the grass to be claimed by its soil and creatures. This was all wrong; very, very wrong. Azmere stiffened some and tried to play it cool. Fortunately, they had arrived and things went as he expected. Rourg eventually caught up and went to his horse’s side. Ailych joined him but locked eyes with Azmere. A vision in his mind of her with a bruised wrist flashed before his open eyes. He staggered back in his yvas and decided to dismount while he dealt with this information.

Azmere stood using Hephiestian as support, his hand going idly to his club. Bruise? He hadn’t seen any before. Was it possible he overlooked it? He shook his head and looked back to the couple. Ailych had daggers strapped to her back but Rourg only had a bow. He had no weapons when Azmere had met him earlier and certainly nothing that could gut a horse. The watchman buried his eyes into the details of the woman. He studied every inch of her and tried to mask his investigation with a hungry look. He wasn’t sure what lustful would seem like but tried to mimic some of the younger men he’d had to straighten out at Baultimes. With his mouth open slightly, he ran his tongue over his lips and kept his eyes narrowed while trying to keep his face relaxed. She seemed fine. The bruise appeared again at his call; it was on her wrist. He investigated her wrists with his eyes and saw no markings. Now he knew something was wrong. The questions quickly became…what to do? Certainly Rourg would defend his wife. If Azmere told him what he suspected, the man would probably turn on Azmere simple for the accusation. The archer simply stood aside and watched. He had to think and wait. An opportunity would present itself…they always did.

[Ferrin Al'Mandrikan]

TITLE

Ailych appeared almost dismantled, she was lost in thought for a few ticks of time. She gazed lustfully towards Azmere. Her eyes flickered, gleamed a little too. Her expression bore a look of a lost woman, but more importantly this lost woman had something trickle down her arm, a plan. Her plan. She smiled wearily and looked over to her husband Rourg. Smiling gently.

Ailych then looked up at Azmere, she saw the peculiar expression through his eyes. "You look troubled..." She crowed, it might've seemed dark to her, but she morphed the attitude through hypnotism attempting to manipulate Azmeres thoughts. The weaver then let go of her daggers slowly, gazing gently at the hunter before her. She used her lovely index finger and stroked his arm, looking up to Azmeres eyes and relinquishing the known Djed out of her and towards Azmere. Merely entrancing the man.

Ailych signed Trust, pride, passion. She looked up at Azmere once again, then back to Rourg still holding his hand, squeezing it. It was once a friendly gentle squeeze, but her grip was like iron. Rourg appeared to be confused, just only so. Then she slowly releases her grasp on her husband's hand and as it comes unlatched, Rourg takes it with his other hand and rubs it gently almost looking depressed about it.

Rourg contemplated whether or not he should feel upset about the lack of passion given by his wife, or that he had lost his bond. Tailey meant the world to him, yet she is gone and he is utterly hopeless currently. Rourg looks up to Azmere with a pleasing gaze. He was lost in thought, unsure of what to exactly say as he watched Azmere.

Ailych, stroked Azmeres arm softly. "You wouldn't mind... Sending some words of praise for Tailey would you..." She signs love to.Rourg, helpful. She smiles gently gazing up at Azmere hopefully engraving him with her use of Djed. Hypnotism, definitely a game of lewdness. Ailych had to be careful of how she presented herself to the Watchman. If Azmere ever discovered of her intentions she'll definitely have to resort to her next plan if it doesn't work.

"I believe that Rourg would greatly appreciate it, Azmere." She spoke almost charmingly, hoping to catch Azmere off guard. Rourg nodded over to Azmere and dragged his feet back over to Tailey only to crouch and slightly moan about his loss.

Ailych looked at Azmere. "Come, come. It'll be okay my sweet Azmere." Her eyes flickered a little more Djed hoping to entrance him even further, though she could sense a small headache coming on and she simply pushed it aside as if it were nothing and she didn't let her expression show if pain or anything similar to the sort. Ailych rubbed at her arm; or mostly assuming that it was her arm. On her arm, another bruise, but a scar located over it as well. She took the lovely Azmeres hand gently, if Azmere would allow it and stroll with him towards the dead corpse of Tailey. Rourg didn't notice the two approaching he was to entranced by the loss of his companion almost crying now, like a child when their favorite toy was lost.

"It's definitely upsetting to see a man like this." She said to Azmere as Rourg stayed crouching over his lost bond. Ailych gently stroked Azmeres shoulder, she would then infuse a little Djed and project an image through his mind. An image that he would see as Ailych; is a beautiful woman. One that could feel like she's the "one" an image so strong it would pang Ailych herself just projecting the image. The image fades and she slumps a bit, her other hand resting lightly over her head. "You should go, talk to him." Ailych signs Talk, good. Spirits rise. She signed.

"Azmere." She called and reached out for his shoulder cordially. "I'm starting to not trust my husband." She said in a hushed voice. "I think he's getting mentally deranged."Feared. Scary. She signs a but fast than usual.

"If he does anything." She pauses. She doesn't want to mention the word kill. Or, whatever else comes to mind of Rourg, but she wanted to play Azmere. To trick him. To deceive him into thinking that Rourg is the antagonist of this day. If she gets Azmere to control Rourg, than she has done it. Or she'll think she has done it. Her little game of hypnotism. It's definitely dangerous, dangerous than by any standards. She feared that Azmere might manage to circle around her game though. A loophole. She hasn't discovered one yet, but she prayed that Azmere wouldn't. Especially if this is her game. This game isn't meant for fun either. As long as Azmere can't see past her. She'll be fine. So she hopes. The board is tipping and some of the game pieces are falling.

OOCHey Az, you can describe this last part however you feel necessary. Once the battle ends I'll put in another post and maybe you can conclude this thread. It looks roughly done to me. Just let me know thanks. P.S. Graders and other Staff, Karin has agreed with me that I can take on the last bits of this thread. So hoping to not throw anyone off, that's all.

[Azmere]

Azmere followed the couple to where he had first met Rourg. There was hardly anything to do with such a mess but the Drykas had decided that if a man needed a few bells to grieve that it would be ok. Normally, the Drykas would not bother with a dead animal but a dead Strider so close to the city could cause a disturbance with the other livestock. The scarred man felt more mental struggles as the woman continued to speak ill of her husband. Azmere was puzzled how the man didn’t seem to hear the conversation. The more it wore on the more he felt himself become tired of the run-around.

Finally, they stopped and the images of injuries and threats turned into brilliant lights dancing along Ailych as if she were some kind of Alivna. This only deepened Azmere’s frustration with everything. Grumbling to himself, the Watchman had decided that enough was enough. He kneed his mount in the flanks and steered the mighty stallion in a wide loop away from duo. He drew Vihar off of his body with his left hand. Once it was clear of his head, he took his right hand and drew an arrow, notched it and came about with the projectile pointed at the woman. His contrasting eyes were open and focused. He was no expert but at this range Azmere was almost a dead ringer for center mass. His arm straight and strong, his face sullen, he addressed the woman. While he did so, he made sure to keep Rourg in the corner of his view. Hephiestian continued to take very slow steps in the same circle. This drew them back around a bit but it would take some time before Azmere was close to Ailych again.

“No more games, woman. Explain yourself or tell it to the Watch.”

[Ferrin Al'Mandrikan]

TITLE

“No more games, woman. Explain yourself or tell it to the Watch.”

Ailych figured that this would happen. She did. Of course she wouldn't have complete control over a Watchman. One such man as strong as this, let's rephrase that, one strong Drykas like this one.

"Strong." She said to herself annoyed a bit. The flow of Djed continued to stream through her system, she contemplated, contemplated her thoughts whether or not this man was worth it. If Ailych snapped, she would have to tell Azmere everything, but she can't do that, no no no. She wouldn't have won the game then.

She could feel the board crumbling away to dust, the pieces evaporating move after move. She was losing time, and if that time ran out, she wouldn't be able to fix her mistake. She assumed that once the Watch figured out that she tried to Hypnotise Azmere, she assumed that bad things would be her consequence.

She looked over to Rourg he wasn't weeping by this point just a little upset and heartbroken, mortified even to know that his strider's still dead and that he'll never have the chance to be with him again. 'Unless he's dead,' Ailych thought morbidly looking back at Azmere. She was on the verge of breaking, she had one thought on her mind, death. It was either her or Azmere. She still had Rourg under her command, for all she knew, and if she can't have Azmere than nobody would and she'll have it be that way, no one would ever have Azmere. She cocked her head oddly, eyeing the man with malicious intent to strike, like a cobra sliding up near his prey to be able to get his chance to strike. She needed to find that perfect opportunity, she noticed that the Drykas cared not to disembark his mount which would be a difficult challenge.

Difficult being thst, that she has a disadvantage towards height. Combative scenarios relate to many ups and downs. She was on the downside of this scenario while Azmere had the upper hand. She growled. It was now or never, the Watch would never find out, will they? With a quick flick of her wrist, she swiftly unsheathed her dagger from her side. "If I can't have you-" she started to raise her dagger up in the air like she was about to stab Azmere. "No one can!" She charged, Ailych would swing her dagger wildly, Rourg observed the actions, but he decided not to participate, he didn't know what to do. Ailych began thrashing wildly with her dagger in anger and disgust, her movements were awful, and she'd be lucky to even get a chance to hit Azmere. She had an urge to win. She hoped she could.

[Azmere]

Azmere’s breath caught in his throat when the woman charged. The fanfare of her thought process only furthered the scarred man’s frustrations. Though he had been confused by the events and the thoughts and false images forced upon his mind, the watchman was not confused by present circumstances. He narrowed his eyes which reduced the amount of the washed out grey world and allowed his pupils to relax and expand. The texture of the material on Ailych’s jacket ran in a strange diagonal pattern that strangely complimented the loose braid of the woman’s hair.

“Foolish woman.” Azmere muttered. His heart broke as he zeroed in on her shoulder as that arm drew Aiylich’s dagger. Her waving and aggressive slashing did not affect Azmere’s aim much. He inhaled while pointing his left arm at the now charging Drykas female. For a two count, the archer held steady –hoping that this woman would turn from her course. Sadly, she did not. Azmere exhaled and allowed his fingers to relax. The bowstring snapped then twanged releasing the broad-tipped arrow at Aiiylch’s right shoulder. The arrow would land or miss before the Ra’athi was able to draw and notch his next arrow though that didn’t stop him from the process. His thumb ring snagged the closest fletching then his arm yanked the shaft free from the quiver.

[Ferrin Al'Mandrikan]

Date Here

“Foolish woman.”
"Not foolish! If I can't have you, no one can!" Ailych shouted, the arrow struck her within the middle of her shoulder. Her outburst just gave her a particular rush, and a lust to want to kill. She was completely focused on the Watchman. She'd rather die than to be justified against the council. Ailych thrusts her dagger aiming low for Azmere, she wanted the man dead, if she couldn't use her hypnotism on him and gain control, then Ailych wouldn't have the power that she so deserved. She decided to leave the arrow wedged into her shoulder, before she was able to attack, another arrow struck her other shoulder, allowing the woman to drop the dagger and she fell to her knees.


The she Drykas laughed. She looked at Azmeres eyes. A small twinkle beginning to form, her laughing was abrupt, and brief, she made sure to get his attention, at her final end, a sudden feeling would gain control of Azmere, his adrenaline would surge, and a lust to kill came into play. "Kill me, now." She smiled, she bothered not to look at Rourg, he was still focused on his Strider, crying his heart out, but the man glumly looked over to his wife, and noticed the conflict, he couldn't bear to watch. Something still seemed wrong with the man. Though, perhaps it was just guilt, overwhelming him inside.

OOCTwo more posts from both of us, and we can end it. I don't know if you'd think that the Djed for Ailych's hypnotism would force Azmere into killing her, but we can work that into play. But, I didn't want to make it seem I was controlling your character or anything Az. Let me know if you have any questions.


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"Pavi" | "Common"
"Tukant"

[Azmere]

Azmere did not blink. He watched his arrow sink into the woman’s shoulder but it didn’t seem to stop her from charging. His hands worked mechanically to nock and draw the second shot. Aiming was not difficult for the crazy lady was coming straight for him. The watchman drew his right hand back until his thumb rested against his cheekbone then inhaled. He held the breath and focused his gaze upon the tip of his arrow while his left arm pointed at the neck of Aiylch. At the last moment, the man adjusted his shot to the right. The clear image of the arrowhead coming into alignment with her blurry left shoulder. He exhaled and released just before the nose of her horse reached Hephiestian. After he shot, counter to his upbringing and character, Azmere turned his steed away so that any flailing of her knife would not come into range of his strider.

As Hephiestian kicked up into a wide circle away from Aiylch that drew back to Rourg, the archer drew a third arrow and nocked it but did not draw the string taut. The blue and gold eyes took in the sight of the man and his apparent lack of care for anything. This confused Azmere but he felt safer when he checked on the striderless Drykas. The stallion continued his trot and the watchman returned his gaze to the mad woman. He didn’t know what to expect at this point but he hoped that she would snap out of this crazed behavior. It was not his place to judge a person. Some things warranted swift and immediate punishments but others needed the consideration of wiser men. The Stormblood rider simply waited. A woman with daggers posed him no threat out in the open so there was no need to blindly continue the assault.