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Ssanya must learn to survive upon arriving in Ravok.

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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]

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A Snake Has Only One Head

Postby Allassanachassanya on July 31st, 2018, 6:57 pm

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Ssanya furiously shook her head at the notion that she was a carpenter's daughter, of all things. It took a lot of effort not to sigh with frustration - being a fake mute was more challenging than she would have imagined. Then again, as she looked down at the sheet with her minimal list of skills, it made sense that 'carpenter's daughter' was what Einar would imagine her to be. She should have agreed with him, but it was too late for a change of opinion. Ssanya ticked over what she could explain her skill set as, and settled for the job she'd taken when she had first moved to Alvadas, albeit somewhat begrudgingly.

She scrawled down the word artist -carver - beeds and necklases. That would have to suffice. She showed it to the man, to Einar, and then promptly stood up with a jolt as a loud knock came from the closed, ratty old door, followed by a voice and a crack of light as the door was nudged open.

"I've got your bath here. Food's coming soon." It was the innkeeper. At his feet, a small wooden tub bound in iron, was sloshing with water that was slightly steaming. A grey cloth hung over the edge, the hem damp with water that had already seeped into it. The man gestured to the Dhani woman impatiently. It took her a few ticks to realise he wanted her to carry the tub into the room, but when she understood what he meant she walked forwards and grabbed the handle and dragged the heavy tub into the room properly.

"Sir, you'll want to make sure your slave knows her place." He turned, almost confidentially, towards the grim-faced Einar and stood with his arms crossed as he delivered his small lecture from the doorway. The man's tone was warm and confiding, even stretching to fatherly if you used a bit of imagination, but his words were at odds with the cheery tone. "When y'haven't had a slave before it's difficult, but it's a slave's job to do things for you. Things will go better for both you and her if she knows that. Now, I'll get the maid to bring the food up in a short while- let you get settled again. Ta ra, and good evening." The innkeeper signalled his intent to leave with a small inclination of his head, and then he shut the door carefully behind him, leaving Einar and Ssanya alone with the steaming bath.

The Dhani only realised after the man had gone that her jaw was clenched so tight that her teeth were hurting. She breathed deeply, and then turned her gaze on Einar. She pointed at herself, and then at the tub, with her head tilted as if to ask, is this for me? If it was - and she assumed that it was given his previous statement - the woman glared at Einar as she began to take off her clothes in the grim hope he wouldn't ogle. Not that she was particularly bothered if he did. Nudity wasn't something she was that prudish about.

Besides, there wasn't much to see. She pulled the rough clothes from her body, revealing tan skin that was paler than it had been for some time. There were few, tiny scars across her body, and most of them were self-inflicted from her malediction practice's demand for blood. She climbed into the cramped bath, but there was little space, so her knees poked up from above the surface. It was just warm enough to be pleasant, but she hurried with her washing, keenly aware of the other person in the room and feeling horribly vulnerable.


"Meaning Through Death"


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Allassanachassanya
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A Snake Has Only One Head

Postby Belugnir on August 1st, 2018, 11:53 am

At the very least Sanya was feisty in spite of her obvious distress... An artist... huh? Ein didn't spare much care for the finer things in life, but he couldn't rightly figure out a reasonable way for an artist to end up enslaved, quickly giving him the impression that the girl was indeed kidnapped off the street without any previous debt or provocation. The thought irked him horribly, though he wouldn't get to dwell on it uninterrupted, as the innkeeper came in with the bath he'd asked for... Ein almost got up to drag the wooden tub into the room himself, but the the awkward exchange of gestures came to pass between the man at the door and the girl Einar now... owned. He remained seated, though the idea of having someone else doing mundane things in his stead simply didn't sit with him yet. If anything, he knew by now that Ravokians liked having their slaves around as much as the Sunberthese did, if not more so... Might as well keep up appearances, I suppose...

Yet when the innkeep spoke up with his 'advice', Einar replied with a brooding quiet, and a horribly exasperated, dismissive glare. There was a river of bickering just begging to have its floodgates open, but he'd remained quiet until the door was closed again, giving Anya a nod at the obvious question she wanted answered. Though when he'd noticed her brief glare, he'd replied by locking eyes with her in yet another dismissive glance, briefly after which he'd gotten up from his seat with an equally dismissive snort. He was a lowlife and a nobody, sure, but he still liked to think of himself as different from the depraved swine he knew certain slavers to be. He hardly ogled, but he did cast a glance at the girl several times as she undressed. She wasn't much to look at, true, but his concern was whether or not she'd been injured or beaten recently. The last thing he needed was to have her just keel over and die from excessive injuries that went unaddressed without him having so much as a clue...

Thankfully it appeared that wouldn't be the case, so with that Einar went back to the table where his pauldrons and gauntlets were discarded, and began to unbuckle his coat of plates in turn as well. Afterward, he would seat himself and go about gathering the collective sum of coin he still had to himself, before starting to count them down to a copper to form some sort of idea of what supplies he could spare to buy in town in the next couple days... he'd briefly entertained the thought of selling the girl by himself to try and get more than he'd spent out of her... though that idea quickly died off. He was no salesman and much less of a slaver, not to mention he'd sooner crack the nose of most people in this city than indulge them with conversation...

As he got to the end of accounting for his remaining handful of coin, a horrid headache began to gnaw at the sides of his head. It was as though he could briefly hear the echo of a crazed wolf's growls and the snapping of its bones... though the echo of his overgiving was quick to pass, and he was left keenly aware of the sounds of Anya's hurried bathing behind him. Visibly irritated, Einar turned around. His tone was hardly a yell, but he was certainly aggravated enough to speak above a pleasant volume.

''Will you quit your sloshing?...'', interrupting his own words, he grumbled to himself for a moment, before settling his tone down again. ''I don't know what you think of me and I couldn't give a rat's arse to begin with, but for Cheva's sake, ease up. That bath is probably the only one you'll get in a fortnight, so scrub yourself good... and wash your rags and toss them over the window to dry when you're do--...''

There was a knock on the door yet again, and this time Einar went to open it himself. He'd only spared enough time to practically wrested a wooden bowl of potatoes baked with a side of molten cheese before almost slamming the door in the inkeep's ugly mug. Two bites in, and he'd have set the bowl upon the table, before going over to his backpack, where, after a brief rummage, he'd produced one of his own shirts, though the thing could easily serve as a short tunic for Ssanya, considering how tiny she was compared to him. In spite of what one would think of Ein on the first glance, he did try to keep his clothing as clean as often as he could. The old shirt only carried a slight, faded trace of his own scent upon it. It would be cast over the bed on the side nearest to where the tub was stood.

''Dress, eat, and lay down when you're done.'', he aptly pointed toward the bed, the baggy shirt rested over it, and the bowl on the table. ''And I'll wake you up when I figure I want the bed to myself.''

With that, Ein would return to his seat at the table where his equipment stood... he was tired, yet not rightly sleepy, and he frankly just wanted to get his mind off of this whole mess... it wasn't long before he'd come to concern himself with scribbling something akin to the glyphs he'd briefly studied on Sahova, of all things, scratching abstract, piss-poor representations of what he imagined could stand for fortitude and strength of mind... feeling that he would need those in abundance at the time.
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Belugnir
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A Snake Has Only One Head

Postby Allassanachassanya on August 9th, 2018, 10:46 am

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The bathing went off without a hitch, and Ssanya did begin to take her time once Einar shouted to tell her so. She was pensive and tense, but the warmth of the tepid bath was soothing, even though the waters cooled quickly in the open room. After she was done, she stepped out and pulled the man's old shirt over her head. The fabric felt rough against her skin, but she appreciated it nonetheless. Even though she was still wary, and still very apprehensive about her new owner, she couldn't help but wonder why the gruff man was so... nice. At least, in comparison to some of the other people she had seen at the Slave Market.

The potatoes were delicious, as far as she was concerned. Whether they were entirely fresh or not she couldn't say, but they were vegetables, which were far, far better than any of the dried and salted foods she'd been ingesting on the voyage to the city. She luxuriated in the butter, letting it coat her tongue in deliciousness. It would be clear to anyone who wasn't stupid that she was enjoying the meal rather more than any usual person would.

After she ate, she lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, studying every crack and whorl in the beams, whilst trying not to fall asleep. The rest was good enough, to be off her feet, which were aching from having been standing upright for a long while. Even the proper bed was a luxury. Ssanya felt like her bones could breathe again, after the hard floors she'd become used to recently. Even though she didn't want to sleep, not in the presence of Einar who she didn't trust, she gradually began to succumb to tiredness until her eyes closed and she drifted into a doze.

___

Rocking. Darkness. Her hands reached out into the nothingness around her, and her fingers collided with solid walls. All around, solid, unyielding walls. She kicked. Punched. The prison was unmoving, silent as the grave, hot and close. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Trapped, trapped inside an inescapable box...

Ssanya couldn't tell how much time had passed as she jolted from the dream, her mouth parched and her heartbeat racing. The covers were twisted around her ankles, although she had only been lying on top of them. The room was the same as she'd fallen asleep in, which was a good thing. She jerked up to sitting and looked around the room, trying to see..- Aah. Einar was still there, too.

She stretched and climbed off the bed. She wasn't sure if her nap had actually done any good; her tiredness only seemed to be magnified as she yawned three times in a row, but she was glad to have rested either way. The dream was just a distant memory, although she was aware of something unpleasant in her dreaming. It had been happening a lot recently, and it went some ways to explaining her sullenness and tiredness that seemed to be skulking after her.

A jerk of her head signified to Einar that the bed was free, should he wish to use it, then she flopped down to sit on the floor, legs in her usual crosslegged position. With nothing to do, she simply sat with her eyes closed and her hands clasped, trying to think of nothing at all.


"Meaning Through Death"


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Allassanachassanya
Sifting through the bones
 
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