A Night to Regret (Flashback)

[Fenilen]

33rd of Spring, 510 AV

No matter how much time Fenilen spent with the Talon Sword, he could never discover the intricacies it held. He could never uncover how some could wield the weapon so gracefully, moving their hands up and down the guardless hilt without stumbling onto the curved blade and ridding themselves of their fingers. Every time he tried to imitate their grandiose feats, he would simply fail in one way or another, and to one such as him, failure was never an option. After his most recent set of failures, for with the Talon Sword, they never seem to come one by one, he had simply decided to work his way back up from the basics. Perhaps his time without the weapon had been too great for his mind to handle without running back through the little he did know. Considering he was scrambling for any excuse to cover up his failures, it only took two moments until that was what he honestly believed, with heart and soul.

So, now, Fenilen stood alone in his personal room, the heat of the volcano on his bare back as he clutched the sword within his hands. The day prior had been eventful enough to leave a feeling of emptiness in him yet again, one that he knew from experience could be quashed only through the satisfaction that labor and its fruits brought. With the blade only measuring three feet in length from pommel to tip, Fenilen was lucky, in the sense that he could legitimately practice with the weapon in the cramped and sparsely decorated room he called his home. After all, that was this was the most likely environment for him to get stuck using the weapon within. It was only fitting to train in the place one will fight, if it is available. With pale hands clenching the end of the hilt, as far from the blade as Fenilen could possibly hold it, only half of the weapon bore lethal potential. If the hilt were to smack against a close enemy, it would simply leave a nasty bruise. He took solace in the fact that if his foe was too close for him to hit, than he was too close to his foe to be hit properly, as well.

It was only after this moment that Fenilen realized that maybe, just maybe, he was analyzing his weapon a little to much when he knew far too little about how to actually use it. Theory was always nice, in theory, but in things martial, it was never a substitute to hands on practice. In theory.

A quick swing of lanky arms brought the sharpened edge arcing through the air, parting the particles effortlessly. However, as the blade hummed through the air, Fenilen noticed, yet again, a theoretical problem. Only the force of his arms was being applied to the slash, leaving it pathetically underwhelming. It needed more umph behind it, something that could pack that extra punch that would cause it not only to swing faster, but to bite harder. He brought the weapon back once more, going into a slash, but as he did so, he found himself subconsciously moving his hips ever so slightly, so he could swing his torso just a little with the attack itself. The result was as he had wished it. Of course. He had already known that, too. See? Basic knowledge comes back to the surface with practice. He had proven the point that he had decided upon at the beginning. A smile wormed its way onto his face, one of blissful satisfaction.

The sword came back for another slash, which was executed with the now-expected whip of the torso, and then his arms drew back, travelling of their own accord, and thrust the weapon forward. Only half way through his thrust did Fenilen remember that his weapon had no thrusting edge to it, only sharpened on one side. As such, he was forced to abort the strike, wondering why someone would design a weapon that felt so natural for thrusting without a thrusting edge. It was like designing a furnace without an openi-

His chain of thought was splintered into a million pieces, which, in turn, liberated his mind, when a series of knocks echoed through the room. His eyes flew to the source-- the wooden door that allowed entry into his room. Although he was somewhat suspicious as to who would be lurking around at such an hour of the night, Fenilen went against his better nature and sheathed his weapon before approaching the door. A hand flew to the latch and opened it quickly, pulling it back so that the person on the other side was in plain view. Had Fenilen been less alert, he would have mistaken the woman for either Sairque or Aidara, but the short length of her hair indicated it was neither. It was Katrina, a Chiet that Fenilen had met a season or so ago.

"What brings you here so late?" was all he could find the words for, as she gently shoved past him to gain entry into his room. She smiled over her shoulder at him, settling down in one of the chairs as she placed her bag on the ground. He heard a resounding clink float to his ears. It seemed she had brought something, if if he had to guess, it was made of glass. He knew the tinkling sound it made a little too well, considering his livelihood was based around the substance.

"Oh, I just have some things I want to share with you, is all," Katrina purred, looking up at him with a coy smile. Interested, Fenilen strolled across the small room as she reached into the bag she had brought, removing several bottles of a dark liquid. It took a few moments to recognize the substance inside the bottles (though he immediately recognized the foreign glasswork-- so much less elegant!), but when he did recognize it, he wasn't entirely sure how to react. "Alcohol?" he declared, a little stunned. "I-I-I," needless to say, he was at a loss for words. Alcohol was expensive in Wind Reach, as it was something that was not produced within the city itself. That which was sold in the city was bartered for from traders that made occasional voyages to Wind Reach. "Thank you," was what he finally decided on saying, before returning to his line of interrogation. "Why? Why did you spend so much money for this, Katrina?"

Almost immediately, she responded. "Because I could, Fenilen. It was cheaper than usual because the merchant was looking to get some money in his pocket. You don't have to have a reason for everything. Sometimes, it's just right to. Now, don't let me drink alone," as the last words left her lips, she removed the cork from one of the bottles with a sharp tug of her arm, bringing it to her lips. Fenilen pulled a chair next to her to join her, sharing the bottle with her. Needless to say, the drink was something almost entirely unfamiliar to Fenilen. He had had alcohol once before, and that time was a blurry memory. The taste assailed his palate violently, but warmed his throat and his body as it passed down his gullet. Every sip or two, the bottle went to the other's hands. Friendly words passed between the two just as freely as the drink. Of course, with two mouths drinking, it wasn't long until one bottle was gone, and the next was open. After the second was gone, an interesting dialog passed between them

"Fenilen?"

"Mmm?"

"Dance with me?"

[Fenilen]

The request was extremely forward, as was to be expected after two shared bottles of some sort of mead. She was already up on her feet, that intoxicating smile shining at him as she extended her hands, a sultry smile on her lips. When he hesitated, the smile turned into a pout, part of her hair moving to hide her face. All in all, it made for an irresistible image, and it wasn’t long until Fenilen found himself up on his feet, despite the fact that all there was to follow was her motions. There was no music, no beat. All there was in the room was Katrina. The moment he was up, he felt her arms snake around his waist. He found himself reciprocating the action instinctually, ignoring the fact that she was pressed up against him. Their faces were a few inches apart, the smell of alcohol apparent in their breaths.

Soon enough, they were dancing. She had the lead, indisputably, as Fen’s graceless, tipsy feet followed behind. As their feet plodded along on the ground, Katrina held him close, the warm skin of her midriff against his gut. A quiet hum began to come forth from her lips, one that soon controlled the tempo and motion of their dance. Fenilen, though just as inexperienced in singing as he was in dancing, couldn’t help but join in. He opened his mouth ever so slightly, letting out a low hum that resonated beneath hers. Just as she led in dancing, she led him singing. The changes in pitch were of her design and her design alone. When she went up, he would go up, albeit ever so slightly, and when she went down, he would go down. Together, they moved gracelessly through the room, one of them letting out a beautiful song, the other an untrained mess. It was an adorable sight, to be certain.

Suddenly, her humming stopped, and her head came closer to Fenilen’s, tilted ever so slightly. “It’s funny,” she said softly, her voice lilting sweetly, her golden eyes staring silently into Fen’s, “how close something like music can bring two people,” when she finished speaking, her dancing led them back over to the pair of chairs, and a gentle little nudge sent Fenilen back into his seat, where she sat down upon his thighs, draping her own legs over the arm of the chair as she rested her head upon his shoulder, sighing ever so slightly. Fenilen’s face flushed bright red as he was uncertain how to respond. Katrina was literally sitting on top of him, which was not exactly unwelcome, but it was entirely unexpected. What was the real reason she had come here? It seemed to be more than sharing some drinks she had bought, after all. He heard a soft giggle as she noticed the blazing red on his face, accompanied by a worried frown.

“Relax,” she said softly, bringing her head closer to his neck. “You look like you’re about to have your throat slit,” the last words were accompanied by a quiet laugh, and then a soft sigh. They sat there in silence for a long while, the warmth of their bodies passing freely between them. Finally, a third bottle of mead was opened, and Fenilen asked a question through .

"It's clear this is for something more than sharing. Why?" he looked down at Katrina as he asked this, still unable to conceive why she would ever remain where she was perched. She was apparently starting to get every so slightly annoyed that he was missing whatever he was missing, because she rolled her eyes very apparently at him. Her hand grabbed his, weaving her fingers between his own as she looked up at him, looking for any sort of recognition in his eyes. A little whisper left her lips, barely audible as they sat there together on the chair.

"Not everything needs a reason, Fenilen. Sometimes, you just need to go with what comes at you and enjoy it," with that, she sat up, leaning forward. Her other hand had looped around his neck, and now, it pulled down hard, yanking his head down to hers. Her lips pressed against his in a drunken mess. She tasted like alcohol as her tongue slipped through his lips, meeting his own. Though surprised at first, Fenilen grew to take Katrina's advice, letting himself throw a little more into it as the kiss grew more passionate. She broke it for only a moment, righting herself in his lap so she was straddling him, sitting upright instead of in the awkward cradled position she had been in earlier. A flying elbow knocked over one of the empty bottles, littering the ground to their side with broken glass. The pair were too drunk and too occupied to care. All that mattered to them at the moment was one another. A few minutes later, the pair was on their feet, avoiding broken glass only through pure luck. It wasn't long until they found their mark-- the bed.

Suffice to say, Fenilen would later regret not having a reason.

[Mercury]

Fenilen Skill(s) Weapon: Talon Sword +4 XP Dancing +1 XP Singing +1 XP Seduction +2 XP Lore(s) Failure is not an Option Talon Sword: Design Flaw Rapping at My Chamber Door Late Night Visitor Social Drinking: Nightcap The Seductive Power of Music Musical Tonality: A Lack thereof Awkward at Getting Seduced Living in the Moment Method to my Madness: Great writing on the Talon Sword; you really deserve those points. I couldn’t give Feni too many seduction points since most of the moves were being put on him instead of vice versa. Gut? Insinuating Feni is a little out of shape? . Loved the thread: hope to see more from Feni! You can address any questions or concerns to the little voice in your head. A.K.A. PM me.