Open Hard Work Never Killed Anyone

But It Can Cause Lightning.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Moderator: Prophet

Hard Work Never Killed Anyone

Postby Alija on October 7th, 2016, 9:55 pm

Image
72nd Fall 516

Rositor was built like the mountains, with a cold heart and rough appearance. It suited him, for that was what he knew. He was master of the mountains too. Nothing happened there without his knowledge. A spy couldn't walk two steps on a trail without Rositor knowing. A traitor couldn't hide for a day. A strain of minerals couldn't go a bell without him noticing it.

Just like the one he had discovered, the reason why he had been waiting for one of the Ebonstryfe to actually come out and greet. He was meant to be a paladin; with his callous, private personality, few would actually be able to tell people that. Few would be able to tell people anything. That was one of the consequences of working in the Wildlands. No one knew him. He liked it that way.

Finally a soldier had come to greet him, and he had told them the details they needed to know. He had found a possible collection of iron, east of Ravok, about six bells of walking. He was setting out to gather it that day. Unsurprisingly, there had been no one to join him. Of course not. When was there ever.

The trader he spoke to didn't seem particularly interested in his problems. Rostitor didn't care, continuing his complaining. The trader had nothing better to do. He wasn't going to be let in, the paladin knew that much. So he may as well stand there and listen.

---

The ferry shifted to a stop by the docks of the Southern Trading Post, Alija stepping off briskly from the shifting platform. Syna had brushed the sky with her presence, but she was mostly obscured with the grey smudges of cloud that hid her face.

People moved in clumps around her, most shifting to the stone tower before them, with a select few fleeing from its place watching them. She followed them, setting up along the path with determination in her stride. Determination that she didn't understand. She had come here with a longing to flee the city, remove the clinging feeling of chaos, and to explore. No reasons, no important ones, anyway. Simply following her feelings, as she found herself having to do more and more recently. In fact, it was so much that she wasn't certain it was following any more - forced was a better fitting word.

The village of tents and wooden structures that met her took her in gratefully, letting her get lost in the wagons and crates of trade goods, from simple fruits to more exotic pottery and clothing. People were selling, people were buying, people were simple being and doing all around her, which let Alija lose herself in the commotion. The dirt felt nice, as did the lack of the lake. Truly, she longed for the sea, but this was good enough.

She brushed past a man with an over-large backpack, muttering a quick word of apology, before stopping. Did he just say something about mining? Yes, that was it. He was moaning. He was going to mine alone. Even with her limited experience with how the metal she worked with was mined, she had a feeling going alone wasn't a good idea. This man clearly didn't like it, didn't he?

Pausing for a moment, she debated it. It wouldn't hurt to try, would it? She longed to understand where the metal she got came from, and this man wouldn't mind some help, even if it was just company. "I'm sorry," she stuttered, tapping him lightly on his shoulder. He turned, cold face looking straight through her, "Sorry, I just happened to overhear you were going mining?"

"And what is it to you?" he spat out, twisting his head a little more.

"I just thought - I'm a smith you see, metal is my life - maybe I could come, learn a little mining? I'm a quick learner and work hard - I could help you, right? Sorry, this seems so..." she trailed off, wishing she commandeered the same confidence at all points in her life, rather than just in some.

He sized her up, and Alija hoped she made a good impression. She had muscles for mining, under her tunic, and her choice of clothing, leggings rather than a skirt or dress, was suited for the work, and the journey. And she was eager, definitely. Finally, he nodded, "You do what I say, you do all the work. Understand?"

Alija nodded gratefully, "Of course, more than happy to. I want to learn."

He gave a half laugh, turning back to the trader he had been talking with, "Wait there, I'll be with you in a moment," he directed at her quickly. She nodded, stepping back. Her mind was focused on the ore she hoped they would find.
spoiler :

oocIf you want to join, you can have your PC show interest after overhearing him moaning. And agree to be a temporary slave.
Last edited by Alija on May 24th, 2017, 9:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Alija
Blacksmith and Aurist
 
Posts: 495
Words: 323487
Joined roleplay: November 11th, 2014, 6:35 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Overlored (1) Mizahar Grader (1)

Hard Work Never Killed Anyone

Postby Roan Blacktide on October 8th, 2016, 6:25 pm

He had been going about his business that day just like any other day. Tiered after the early morning shift at the docks he would stumble groggily along the tents and stalls on his way home, looking to buy some food and a fresh fish for the cat, a bit of grain to go in the pot. Such was this living - day to day. Hour by hour. But he didn't mind it. Things came easier to him when he let his mind wonder. His body was automatic, chiselled by the routine.

This was perhaps the reason the unexpected sight grabbed the boy's attention so very instantly. Ravok was filled with beautiful women but they weren't 'his kind' of women. He didn't quite care for the most recent fashion and fancy upper-class makeup. She was pretty - this one. Naturally pretty as he stood frozen for a moment watching the as golden rays brushed though her hair like a comb. As she walked past him Roan's eyes trailed, entranced by the way her body moved beneath her. The way her ankles owned the path. He quite liked her posterior.

Perhaps a minor detour wouldn't hurt anybody.

Roan would weave though the crowd after her, falling quite enough steps behind so that he'd not seem the creepy stranger stalking a girl home but rather a charming, electric gentleman catching her off guard with a polite hello, perhaps a spicy flirt - or so he had imagined it in his head. Like all boys however he lacked the charisma and vastly overestimated himself.

And perhaps his luck was cursed that day or perhaps he had never any to begin with, but by the time he had caught up enough to her and the time was just right, just perfect to come out with some cheesy pickup line, she was already conversing with someone else. Rotten luck. He was truly the child of Kelwyn - a lost cause.

"Sorry, I just happened to overhear you were going mining?"

"And what is it to you?"

"I just thought..."

Roan overheard the conversation with his heel already dug into the dirt, ready to turn around and carry on his way, banishing that pretty face from his memory.

"I'm a smith you see, metal is my life - maybe I could come, learn a little mining?"

And there it was - his in. His context. An excuse to save all the cheesy chat-up lines for another day and not embarrass himself just yet. He took a moment to size up the man she was talking to before attempting to grab her attention.

"A smith, eh? You don't say. What a coincidence cos, well, so am I." he lied though his teeth and did his best to make it as convincing as he could with a wide smile on his face and an unwavering to his voice and a general jolly tone."Forgive me. I really didn't mean to overhear your conversation . Geez, these coincidences, right?" he would nod his forehead in a greeting, filling the air with his voice so that she hadn't the opportunity to dismiss him. "I'm Roan by the way. I work just a little while away from here. Tell you what, if there's a spot for a 3rd in your party I wouldn't mind helping out. When it comes to mining you could always use extra muscle right?"
Roan Blacktide
True strength is forged by the blackest tides
 
Posts: 8
Words: 2915
Joined roleplay: October 8th, 2016, 3:14 pm
Location: Nottingham, England.
Race: Human, Svefra
Character sheet

Hard Work Never Killed Anyone

Postby Alija on December 2nd, 2016, 5:55 pm

Image
oocThis is still open if anyone wants to join - just PM if you have any questions!

A voice behind her made her head spin, catching the man in her view. He was young, but with muscle, and his smile made him all the more believable. She didn't recognise him though, which annoyed her. Surely she would have seen him if he worked in any of the city's smithies - she had spent plenty of time in all of them, whether it was for work or because she found it the best place to spend her time off. Thankfully, he didn't recognise her either. Perhaps he had his own little shop, or worked at one similar. Maybe he didn't even work as a smith at all, but had another profession that stopped him from smithing.

"Pleased to meet you, Roan," Alija stuck her hand out, much more open and relaxed. He was a smith, after all, one of her kind. They were on the same ground, the two of them, "My name's Alija. What sort of smith, may I ask? I myself don't like to specialise, but perhaps you do?"

Rositor was less cordial, giving the man a sharp nod, before focusing on the trader he was conversing with, clearly finding that conversation a tad more interesting than the one the blacksmiths were having. It didn't take long for him to finish, however, grumbling something neither could understand to him, before turning around steadily. "I'm ready. Shall we go?"

The party moved away from the bustle of the outpost, to a carriage that was tied up roughly at the edge of the outpost, mountains all around. Most was covered in a layer of canvas, but you didn't need to see the contents to know what they were. Supplies, tools, anything the group would need for a journey up the mountains with mining on their minds. A small pony was tied to it, stocky but strong, despite its stature. Rositor grumbled at that thing too, before leading the troupe away, carriage alongside them.

The paladin moved quickly, taking long strides and rarely stopping. His rucksack shook as he moved, towering over him, but it didn't slow him, Alija struggling to keep up with his pace. There was no time for a casual stroll and a pleasant conversation - her mouth felt dry and her lungs were empty, unaccustomed to walking this fast, this far. Sharp teeth rose up to the sky around them, but they seemed to be an eternity away, despite their speed.

Their silence was only broken by the noise of the pony and carriage, by their footsteps and panting breath. The wildlife was still around them, Alija peering curiously around just in case. She hoped for a waterskin, then realised she had none, and continued, swallowing nothing and licking her lips.

The journey continued for three bells, but she wasn't certain exactly. By now, Syna was clearly in the sky, beating down on them, except from when the dark mountains gave them shadows. As they neared the base of a particularly daunting one, they slowed, Alija grateful for the change in speed. The hairs on her neck began to prickle, half from excitement, half from fear. All alone, out here, so far from the city, was strange. She was never one to adventure far from her home, and when she had, she had always been with friends, with people she knew and trusted.

Dark grey, clouds moved to cover the sun, the atmosphere changing quickly. The weather was definitely worsening, and Alija wasn't certain whether it was a good idea to proceed. Turning to find Rostitor, who had gathered a few more items from the cart, she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to call the expedition off.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped gruffly, still his grumpy mood. The walk had done nothing to temper it, the man looking completely unaffected. "The next part's tough, lots of rough terrain. Anyone for dropping out, or can we get going?"

So the possibility of rain didn't daunt him. Alija opened her mouth to protest, to say something, to question him, but she stopped, too scared of the man who clearly had more experience than she had. Surely he knew what was best, and if that was continuing up the mountain, so be it. "Can I have some water?" she asked instead, getting a waterskin roughly. She enjoyed her drink, but left plenty, handing it back quickly. When would they get to the metal? That was the part she wanted.
User avatar
Alija
Blacksmith and Aurist
 
Posts: 495
Words: 323487
Joined roleplay: November 11th, 2014, 6:35 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Overlored (1) Mizahar Grader (1)

Hard Work Never Killed Anyone

Postby Alija on May 24th, 2017, 9:20 pm

Image
The other man - who claimed to be a smith, but said nothing else - trembled nervously. It was clear that he was worried about the weather too - but unlike Alija, he decided not to trust the more experienced one here, and shook his head quickly. "Then go, if you don't want to take the rest of the journey!" came the quick reply, rough and gravelly as the man turned and fled.

So it was just Alija and Rostitor. She didn't know how she felt about that. Even with one extra person, whoever he was, she felt that tiny bit safer. There was one extra person to keep an eye out out here. One more person to keep her safe.

Her eyes flickered up to the mountain. It was just Alija and Rostitor. That didn't mean she was backing out.

"Too rough up there for the cart." Alija looked back at Rostitor, distracted by the huge peak, black and huge. It massed over her, and she had to climb that. The paladin had gathered up his possessions, and carried a large pickaxe in his hand, another across his back. Roughly, he shoved it in her direction, Alija reaching out quickly and stumbling with it as she felt its weight. Like a hammer, only distributed differently, and she wasn't ready for it.

There was a rope slung around it, and she pulled it up, positioned it across her back like he carried his. So both hands were free, and the pick wouldn't weight her down fully. Which, according to his next words, was going to be important.

"Terrain gets really rough up there. You any good at climbing?"

Alija shook her head nervously, scared for his reaction. His face grew darker like the skies above, but shook it away. "Better learn quick then. There's a few rough spots. Just do as I tell you and it'll be fine."

A few rough spots. How many times had he mentioned that it got rough up there? Three times, four times? It was almost starting to irritate her. She wanted to get up there and get past this rough terrain already. "I'm ready," she finally spoke, choking over the words as she said them. With a sharp nod, they were off again.

The bit just after where they had stopped was roughly the same, the climb only a little steeper. Then it got steeper, and even more steeper, and the woman huffed as she followed, feet treading into the ground sharply and watching as the ground fell around her. Occasionally, she kicked up the stones that formed the rough path, and her whole body slid backwards, flattening out against the ground. The stones tore at her knee, leaving it bloody and raw, while her hands had the same treatment as they gripped the ground tightly to stop herself falling.

Then the path turned sharply to run alongside the mountain, flattening out, and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Using the flat ground to catch up with Rostitor, she felt the bite of her boots on her feet, the blisters rising on heel and toe. This better be over quick. The clouds were still rising, her feet were just hurting more and more, and the terrain...

She couldn't help but curse under her breath as she caught up to the paladin, turning around the mountain sharply. What lay before was definitely rough terrain.

The trail shrunk away sharply, leaving piles on piles of exposed rock before them. The boulders ranged from the size of a small rowing boat, to her cottage back in Zeltiva, cracks and cuts pouring down the rock. The wind that had picked up battered against the hikers, testing its strength against the boulders with no luck. They stood, as they would have always done, firm, unbroken, a challenge waiting for them to pass.

And Rostitor was headed straight towards them.
User avatar
Alija
Blacksmith and Aurist
 
Posts: 495
Words: 323487
Joined roleplay: November 11th, 2014, 6:35 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Overlored (1) Mizahar Grader (1)

Hard Work Never Killed Anyone

Postby Alija on October 24th, 2017, 8:47 pm

Image
If she had the strength left in her, Alija convinced herself that she would have said something. Protested against bouldering. Told the paladin that they had to take another route, else she wouldn't be joining him, and he'd have to mine it alone.

But even in her thoughts, the unsaid moans sounded petulant and pointless. Rostitor wouldn't care if she wasn't there to join him - he had always been planning to do it alone. He'd probably enjoy the solitude, and the fact that he didn't have to babysit this little smith, who wanted so hard to try some mining, even when she knew that she would fail.

Besides, her hunger for this chance had pushed her too far now. If she gave up at this point, everything else would have to go to waste.

And that wasn't even considering the fact that she had to make the journey back alone, if she left now. As peaceful as it had been so far, Alija didn't fancy testing her luck in the wilderness, alone.

So that was her decided. She'd climb over those boulders, not because she had the strength, or the knowledge, or the skill, but because it presented itself as the best choice.

Following after Rostitor quickly, she was careful to adjust the pick she carried to ensure it was out of her way. Without even showing any sign of indication at how hard this was going to be, especially without any practise before hand, the man stared at the first large rock, before hooking his fingers around something that he had seen - and she hadn't - and pulling himself upwards. His body twisted and turned, muscles tightening to drag himself up, and deep grunts could be heard over the scraping rock.

Amazed, she watched, lost in how impressive it looked, the ease at which he scaled the rock.

Then it was her turn. Alija had been too lost watching Rostitor climb that she had forgotten to watch him properly. He had grasped ledges and tucked his feet into dents, but she hadn't been paying enough attention to see where.

Cursing her own foolishness under her breath, the blacksmith stared at the rock like he had, hoping that remembering the first step would make everything magically come to her.

What had he been looking for?

Grooves. Imperfections in the stone face. Ones close enough to form a path, leading all the way to the top. Yet, as she looked, even with a goal in mind, she found nothing. The rock fell in there. And bulged to the right and above. There was a crack even higher, and to the left.

And a million other crevices, too many to name.

"Coming?" came the impatient voice. At least he wasn't standing there talking about the rough terrain.

Deciding to just go with it, and hope that the path became clearer up close, Alija swept back her hair, and began to approach the rock face.

Up close, it looked so much taller.

With a deep breath, Alija reached out, searching for a place to hold. The whole thing sloped, and she gave up with actual handholds, jumping up like how she might have done as a child, and shuffling, back hunched and arms outstretched, up as quickly as she could with momentum keeping her up.

At once, she straightened her body, and found the sudden change in centre of gravity threw her. Her feet slipped off the small sloped section she stood on, and her body slid, face down, across the rock. With a quick push off, she managed to throw herself to the ground before she landed on the next jut of sharp stone.

If she had acted quicker, been a bit more decisive, she wouldn't be on the ground, bruised, dusty, and listening to Rostitor chuckle to herself at her own misfortune.

Her eyes scanned up to where she had been. If she knew where she was reaching out to...

Just before the rock bulged to the right, a crack lined it, marking out and drawing the eye to the way it fell out. It appeared to be deep enough. The crack, that was. Deep enough to push her fingers in, and hope to keep hold.

Attempting her awkward climb again, Alija struggled with the run, but revelled as she reached out and found her nails snagging the stone. Her hand twisted - she hadn't considered this, the awkward angle the crack was to the awkward angle at which she was standing - but her fingers buried inside, flattening at the tips and curling at the joints.

She allowed herself a breath before she could continue. A glance was spared upwards - the paladin with her was busy with his own things, clearly disinterested in helping her climb this. Another breath. But only that; any more, and she would have slipped from where she stood. Although she didn't have a plan (what she'd give for a plan!), she knew she had to moved, because her fingers couldn't hold her like this for long.

Her legs swung round, searching the rock blindly for somewhere to stand. While her feet slipped endlessly, thinking they had found something solid while they hadn't, her right knee slammed into something hard and definitely there. Something she could stand on.

Her feet, in a scramble, kicked and pushed off the rock wall to find it. It was a strange position, but once the balls of both feet balanced on the rock, the smith could alleviate the stress from her fingertips. Where next? Her arms stretched up and over the bulge, using the fact that there was something beneath her to rest and keep steady. At the top of this bulge, her fingers found her next hold - another crack, only even larger, she could fit her whole hand inside.

So she did. Swinging her body up to follow, her muscles screamed at her, and the blisters on her toes stung as they collided with the boot as the boot collided with rock. Then she got a grip, and pushed herself up even further, until she was pressed against the rock face, almost vertical again.

The very top of the boulder was out of reach, but Alija could just about see the tips of Rostitor's boots. He had stopped doing whatever it was he had been doing. He was looking over now.

A rope had been lowered beside her, stretching to where she had been a minute ago. With all her effort to climb, she had managed to miss the help that had been provided, and now the rope was out of reach again.

A hand lowered, now. Her own, smaller, rougher, more scratched palm reached out, and they met, grasps shifting quickly with the sweat pouring off her. Slowly, the man pulled her up, the pull between her arm and her shoulder painful enough to force her to scramble with the rest of her body. Eventually, she flopped like a dead fish over the ledge, panting for breath, and Rostitor looked down on her disappointed.

But it was over. Struggling to her feet, she tried to show that she still had some grain of strength left in her. Then her eyes met the next boulder rising up before them, and even if there had been even the slightest bit left, it tumbled away in the relentless wind.

There was no way she could do another one.
User avatar
Alija
Blacksmith and Aurist
 
Posts: 495
Words: 323487
Joined roleplay: November 11th, 2014, 6:35 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Overlored (1) Mizahar Grader (1)


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests