Ьȴʊє Ͻ a r a v a n 🚙 🚙 🚙 (new thread!)

Favorite Character Poll Round 10!

Lucien Balthazar Mchale - Vicious hunter of humans and dragons.	27.3%	[ 3 ]
Vasul Calim Shahrad - Crown Prince of Shahrazad and righteous eagle among a flock of vultures.	9.1%	[ 1 ]
Lorelei 'Ellie' Katerini - Knight Errant and Defender of Justice who will kick your butt!	18.2%	[ 2 ]
Inyri Ven - Sharp-minded beauty and budding lady of wares.	18.2%	[ 2 ]
Eriol Epheis - Mysterious man with an eye for the prize.	27.3%	[ 3 ]
Total Votes:			[ 11 ]

This poll closed on November 27, 2014.
No longer accepting new votes.

[lilly_child_RP]

How long now? Three hours? It was a depressingly long time to be stuck in an objects shadow. But now the caravan cart had grown quiet, leaving room for all the sounds of the great religious city, Belorner. Despite being a creature whose face showed little if any emotion that did not pertain to utter boredom and displeasure, Astyri was quite pleased with herself.



Somewhere along the outside of the wall surrounding the city she had waited, pressed against the stone as a shadow. Caravan, horse, and person; many of each had passed but, and this was perhaps by chance though fate may have played a role, the first shadow heading into the city to cross the Shadow Elf, or Drow as some might call her, belonged to none other than the lead wagon of the Blue Caravan. Without hesitation Astyri slipped from the wall’s elongating shadow into that of the wagon and it had carried her through the line undetected. Like a minuscule parasite she had ridden the shadow right past the checkpoint and into the city.

And now it at last was safe for her to emerge. She was slightly fatigued from the lengthy expanse spent in the shadows, parallel to a jogger having just returned from a morning workout, but it was nothing that would not pass with time. As if attached to strings connected to the sky Astyri lifted from the wagons shadow. The horses behind her started slightly but all in all the elf gave them no reason to worry, and before long their attention had been relocated onto the fodder before them. She stretched wide and then settled her arms at her sides. A quick self check reviled her bow and arrows to be secure on her back, her knife pouch full and buttoned, and her dagger(a blade that appeared caught between sword and hunting knife) was attached to her thigh by reddened leather straps. All was in order.

As she moved behind the caravan, aiming to make it to the market without being seen by any of the travelers, her autumn red sarong flowed about her ankles on it’s own accord. That is to say that the wind blew in the opposite direction of that which her skirts and hair blew. Astyri took no notice to this, it was how it was, she was how she was and despite the winds direction she moved on her own breeze, one created by the shadows around her. Lazily she peeked out from behind the wagon, letting her candy apple eyes decipher a path. From there she moved forward, walking as if she was meant to be there amongst the wagons, as if she belonged. Her shoes were leather soled and made very little sound, which pleased her more for if she wasn’t distracted by her own sounds there was much more attention left to give to the sprawling market place before her. Long strides brought the woman to the first row of stands.

Food

Yes food was her first order of business. Her right hand, slender and dark like the night sky lit by a full moon, snaked to her waist and pulled the string which attached her coin purse to her belt. The contents of the bag jingled happily as she moved the bag. It seemed to her that the money was pleased to be spent. She chose a fried bred dish from the nearest food stand and paid for it with out so much as a “please” or “thank you“. The merchant would most likely mutter some obscenity behind her back, but Astyri hardly minded. Humans rarely understood the placid features and mannerisms of the Drow. That was fine with her, they need not understand to be beautiful and fragile, not in the slightest.

Hazy eyes with drooped lids scanned the crowds from behind a veil of nearly white hair. She stood above nearly all the women and was nearly as tall as most of the men, making looking around fairly manageable, though she still was required to stand on tip toe to see farther down the aisles of stalls. She moved off to the side after concluding that there was nothing else she wanted from the market. She had a gourd of water on her hip to drink from, and this wonderful pan-fried bread to satisfy the knot of hunger that had taken up residence in her stomach. Astyri found a bench, surprisingly empty, and placed herself upon it while she ate her simple meal. As she chewed her eyes eventually drifted back to the Blue Caravan. She’d have to go back and see about joining them officially instead of riding around in their wake as she had done earlier that day. But for now she was content to watch it and marvel at it.

[azora natashi]

XXXXXXXXXXXX❀ R є s υ ι a ❀

Resuia exhaled deeply, the breath that she had held knowingly escaped. Air without worry or fear filled her lungs and made life seem so much sweeter, like rose colored glasses being painted an even pinker pink. A smile widened on her face, as she let him press a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. It almost made her want to grin, but she held it back, trying not to get overly excited with the wooing musician. But she couldn’t help the girlish giggles that escaped her lips as she was complimented in a way that previously only the other girls at court were subject to. “W-why… you’re too kind!” ‘No really, you’re too kind.’ She could feel the uncool blush seep into her cheeks.

Turning her head in mock negligence, she tried to occupy herself with crumbling the wanted poster in her one available hand, refusing to pay attention to her overly conscious senses. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he was looking at her. Or that he looked at her at all. It was probably one of the most awkward moments of her short life. Her hand was slowly taken back from him, care put into being as polite as her embarrassment allowed. The silence persisted between the two, ‘This isn’t quite how I imagined attention would feel. But I guess it’s close.’ The ball of paper was tossed over the girl’s shoulder and the merchant’s shopping list was taken out in an attempt to distract herself once again by staring at the confusing letters.

Ebosia and Mohini might have had frustrating and undecipherable ingredient names, but for this one moment she was glad. Resuia chanced a quick look at the bard, he was still smiling at her. She giggled, this time from nervousness, and focused on her errand once again. “S-so… do you want to come with me to the market?” Even if the courtesan hadn’t a clue as to where such a place of that nature might be. At the very least she wasn’t going to turn down company. “I have to go buy some things for my… bosses.” The hesitation in her words was not out of contempt, but rather she had only now begun to realize that she was, in a sense, their employee. Up until that point in time she more or less thought of herself as a freeloader.

[Edited]

[The Rectumbler]

"What's his name? Your old slaver?" Beck's lips pursed. He probably knew the b*****d. He seemed to know all the bastards lately. At least the ones who were worth knowing. (Example, the b*****d striding just a little bit ahead of him who...did he just step on his boots? Twice? Oh what a b*****d.) Beck froze, waiting just a second before giving Rasheik a good swift kick in the behind with one of his long legs.

"Oh sorry Handsome, I needed to buff my shoe on a firm but soft surface. Some brash fool trod all over my boots."

Beck too was curious about the wee little bratling. He was a polite child, studious and sweet, and Beck had no idea why the hell Rasheik had taken an interest in him. Kidnapped? He found that a bit too hard to swallow. Well, this kid's mom is a b***h, so I think I'll just snag him for fun and romps. Mentally, I'm nine, so why the hell not! Really Sheiky? Really? "Well, pretty soon all the kids are going to want to be kidnapped by you to escape their mothers," Beck muttered, rolling his eyes at Aria before realizing that she probably couldn't see him. Soon, they were back to the caravan, and he eyeballed the wagons. "Sheiky dear, where is this slaver? I'd love to meet him."

[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

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ABEL'S FABLES
Volume Two Chapter Forty Eight
Abel can't handle all these ladies at once either.

Double whoa.

All of a sudden, there were other girls approached Abel. This was new. Usually it was one girl at a time who drug him about as if he were on a leash. Or, he would be chasing a finely rounded set of breasts and some well toned legs. Never was he the one who attracted attention. Was he becoming..more attractive? He ran his fingers through his exposed hair, adjusting the cloth tied about his forehead. Nawww. Maybe it was because he was one of a limited breed on the caravan - male that is. When the first woman approached asking for Rasheik, he immediately blushed a bit, thinking that maybe she was the bandit king's girlfriend. Or maybe just one of many. He bet a bandit king could get any girl he wanted. Especially when you were as famous as Rasheik was. He saw the man returning from wherever he had gone, and he pointed him out to her.

When the second girl approached, he realized that she had been traveling with the nobleman. Wasn't she his guard? Why was she being so meek? It must be his overwhelming masculinity. He paused for a moment to flex once for no apparent reason other than to look really buff and awesome. Or foolish. Either or. "Ya, sure. Sounds fine." Simple enough. He kicked a rock away with the toe of his shoe, stubbing it in the process. He winced, hopped on one foot for a second and looked to the girl with green hair. Eh, well, maybe she could just...join them if she wanted? Or ... scowl at them as they left? "Nice ta meet ya Miss. Real nice. M'Abel Conway by the by. So uh...if'n ya eva need me, ya know m'name." Abel turned away from the wagon, hoping that Eve would just follow without any prompting. "Didja see her hair? S'green! I ain' neva seen th' likes a' tha' before. 'ave ya?" Abel continued to stroll along, pausing for a moment when he saw the child on Rasheik's shoulders. For a moment, the two made eye contact, and Abel tilted his head to the side. The child immediately mimicked him. Cute.

He hoped Rasheik would keep him. He'd always wanted someone to go on adventures with, just like his older brother had with him when he was a little scamp.

PLEASE SIR MR BANDIT KING CAN WE KEEP HIM OH PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASEEEE?.

[artfreek]

}|{Joesephine Jenkins}|{

“Your a Father! How many kids do you have? Could I meet them? I haven't gotten to play with kids for a while.” She was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. She was sure playing with kids would be so much more fun than playing with adults. They got tired easily and didn't always want to play the games she played. This would be so much, fun she couldn't wait to meet them.

“Nope, I came all by myself.” She said after calming herself down a bit, but she still giggled every once and a while.“I' m not that young, besides I've been by myself for years. I move around a lot. I haven't found a place that I really liked yet. Though I like this city so far. It has nice people who give me colors to draw with, but I don't think I'm going to stay. The people can be really boring.” She no longer had a hold Linus. Instead she walked with her hands clasped behind her. Her focus wasn't completely on what she was saying though. It was wandering through the market checking out what was there. She wondered if they had colors anywhere here. She really wanted them if there were. They were her most favorite thing in the world.

[artfreek]

~~~~Nesa Comec~~~~


Piggy back, tickling his feet, the child's laughing carrying through the crowd. Nesa couldn't help, but smile as she watched the two of them. She waved and grinned back at the boy. He was adorable. She really wished she would be able to play with him sometime. For a child that was kidnapped he seemed extremely happy with his situation, but from the sounds of it she, the mother, wasn't a very good one or Rasheik just had a bad opinion about her. Did she break his heart or something? That she wouldn't ask, who knew what those kind of thoughts would do to his mood, but there were other questions she wanted to ask.

“Is he your son or did you just take a liking to him?” Nesa asked hoping it wasn't too probing. She was curious and she was set to learn the answers to her questions. Asking the wrong questions to some like Rasheik could be dangerous though. At the moment she was using the boy as a shield of sorts. He kept him in a good mood and hopefully would keep him from doing anything too violent.

[Watervoir]

■ □ ■ - - Evelyn Alinari

┐

Briefly, Evelyn’s placed notice on a woman, or more specifically the details surrounding her sudden appearance. The woman was appreciably less conspicuous than the lady at the door, her curtness helping to that effect, and soon attention was removed from her when she shuffled herself past the door into the wagon. Evelyn glanced at Abel, curious to see whether or not she would spot a hint of recognition for the woman on his face. There didn’t seem to be, or perhaps Evelyn had simply not caught it, for quick he was to turn and speak to her, approving her aid, albeit with some exuberant and superfluous gestures. The response was short and definitive, perhaps owing to a little disappointment. Possibly he preferred the company of the fluorescent lady, who brimmed of a more cohesive confidence and greater promise than her. Evelyn wouldn’t have known and likely would never find out.

The woman manifested before them once again. This time her presence was made more prominent, though no less slight, as she sought help in finding Rasheik. Guidance was offered by Abel, and Evelyn made use of the time taken to scrutinize the woman’s face before she shuffled off. Anyone with ties to Rasheik was likely to be found again coming and going around the caravan, thus worth taking note of.

Farewells were bid, Evelyn contributing with a small nod of her head, and they were off. He seemed mildly content; maybe the farmboy hadn’t required the company of the lady after all. “She certainly is uncommon,” she provided. It was a careless response: terse, firm and out of character.

Whether he noticed or not was a different matter. Evelyn followed his gaze to find Rasheik, atop of who was a boy. The child remarked Abel, and for a frightful second, Evelyn waited for the man to as well, hoping gravely he wouldn’t. Although the farmboy might not have questioned her assistance, the bandit king could. Easily, she could offer him a credible answer, though she would rather have not been troubled to do so in the first place.

“Um...Do you have a plan?” she asked him, hoping her question would stop any potential advance towards the bandit king. She would follow through on the timidity, she decided, until it became too false or too tedious. The ploy seemed apt for her circumstances though as she wanted to see what knowledge he had to do with their goal, and as far as she was aware, it was satisfying for some individuals to show off what little they know to inquisitive, young girls.

“I think we will need one.” But for all Abel was, he did not look like a tactician, so she didn’t expect him to have much of any arrangements mapped out. She started running preparatory measures in her head. He had mentioned getting water, but it couldn’t have been a regular errand, could it? It was probably not a legal endeavour if they were going to need the experience of someone holy. If it involved sneaking around, they would need appropriate disguises, which they could likely whip up with items from the market.

But what if that wasn’t the case? It seemed she needed more information before she could plan any further. “Where is it?” She expected him to make an inference as to what she was referring to since they were on the topic of their quest, but then she realized he may not have been capable of doing so, or may not even think to do so, so she added, “...The water.”

└

[John Van]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxӺatђeɍ Ƚȋnuʂ Ӻoωʆeɍ

• • • • • • • • • ⊶ ✠ ⊷ • • • • • • • • •

Did she plan to stick by his side? What kind of person decides to hang on to a total stranger they just met, priest or not. One would think slavers would have picked her up by now. Is she lucky or was God paying special attention to her?

Is she naive or just plain stupid? Both were a given. Both were unclear. Either way it was in between. Perhaps that was why he was hesitant to let her wander off on her own.

"I have no biological children. 'Father' is a title given to the priests of the Children of the Light. Its a reflection of the role we take in relationship to our congregation. You could say that my children are the ones in our church."

There was no point in lying to the girl, even if it was a little white one. It was a struggle to maintain a balance of compassion and tough love. For Linus, that usually fell into the latter category. It was easier that way.

"If you say you're alright, then I'll trust you to take care of yourself. I would see you to tour home, however, my brothers are waiting for me at the Hall of the Gods. They would be very cross with me if I was late for my own sending off."

He crossed in front of her, barring her path for only a bit. As long as she was capable of looking after herself, that was good enough for him. With an outstretched hand he gently laid it on her head.

"God be with you, Joese."

And with that, he turned on his heel and made his way towards the center of the city. The girl would do as see pleased. That was for certain. A free spirit never stayed in one place for long. A part of him felt guilty for suddenly heading off from her, but another part felt the nagging sensation that a simple 'goodbye' wouldn't be enough to throw the girl off his tail.

⊶ • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ⊷

Here abidith Faith, Hope and Love, these three
But the greatest of these, is Love.

[Peaceful Revolution]

xx

L u c i n d a xxxx F r o s t

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for
and certain of what we do not see.

May I be worthy to be a Child of the Light.

Forgive the sins of my youth, I pray you, as I fulfill
the tasks you have given me; that I may have
the whispers of my heart within my hands . . .





Lucinda brushed her curls back over her shoulders as she rose from the vendor's wares. Coin exchanged hands and she left the vase behind with the old woman, jingling the money back and forth in her palm as she walked. It was her first day in the great city, a place she had only read or heard about before, and the sights and sounds had been overwhelming at first. The years she'd spent in travel had not taken her to a place quite like this. Her arrival, late the previous night, had startled the one soul awake at the hour who'd seen her. She was a toothless old woman, stooped with age, and she'd come upon Lucinda unawares.

"Was that magic?" she'd asked in a whisper.

Lucinda smiled. "I suppose."

"Best keep it quiet," she urged and looked around.

"I will," Lucinda promised.

"A long time, it's been, since I saw someone that can fly ...what's in your hand?"

"Hawk feathers. Fare you well."

She'd spent the night in an inn and woke early that morning, excitement driving her to dress quickly and wander the city. Her prayers were murmured and done with much faster than usual.

May I be worthy to be a Child of the Light.

Her possessions were carried in a plain, leather sack, slung over her shoulder. It appeared to bulge with a great weight that seemed surprising in contrast to her short, light frame, but was only stuffed with different varieties of feathers. More than once, eyes strayed towards her, but she was unconcerned. She'd been robbed twice in her travels. The first time, they'd only looked at the bag in confusion and let her be. The second time they'd cast the feathers about and called her a fool. Her ears caught the sound of a priest's blessing and she stopped, looking about in surprise for the source. It had been a while since she'd heard the familiar, comforting sound from lips other than her own, and her eyes landed on a man giving the blessing.

It shouldn't be a surprise. This city was famous for its religion. But, still, her mind wandered back to earlier times. Times that often kept her awake at night. She walked after the man without a word, unsure whether she should ask for his blessing or continue on her way and leave him be. There was a natural, deep respect in her heart for the clergy of the Children of Light. She had been quite close to becoming one. Of course, things had happened... Her impulses got the best of her and she quickened her pace enough to tap him on the shoulder.

"Father?" she asked. "Forgive me if I'm intruding, but may I ask for your blessing? I have not seen a priest in months. Oh!" She made a small noise as she remembered the coins she'd just gained and extended her hand, displaying them. The sun glinted off the silver and copper. The image of Father Felix danced in her mind and the way the wrinkles on his face seemed to multiply when he smiled. She had always given him (or, correctly, the church) a portion of the meager money her cousin sent to her. "For the poor," she said, then, sheepishly, "I have not kept much of the faith beyond my prayers, truth be told ... is there a church in this city?"

[John Van]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxӺatђeɍ Ƚȋnuʂ Ӻoωʆeɍ

• • • • • • • • • ⊶ ✠ ⊷ • • • • • • • • •

Linus felt a light tap on his shoulder. A sigh escaped him. Figures. What inane question did she have for him this time? His eyes flitted in surprise. Wasn't expecting a mass of curls to be talking.

The young woman behind the curls had a different demeanor from Joese. She was a Child of the Light. Asking for blessings and being overly polite about it none the less. He raised one of his graying eyebrows as she squeaked, remembering something as she rummaged through her pockets. A collection of silver and copper. She said she hadn't seen a priest in months, was she saving them for charity?

Like Joese, her stature and appearance made him ponder. Did women today travel on their own more often or did the slavers decide to take a holiday? It wouldn't be hard to pin the days uncommon encounters under the divine intervention category, but that would seem too uncharacteristically optimistic. Don't think about it too much. Just go with it. With the same hand he used to bless Joese, he rested it atop the mass of curls with a gentle if not lack luster plop. Linus tried to put more feeling into his voice, just in case she started to suspect that he was loosing enthusiasm.

"The Word is a lamp unto thy feet, and a light upon thy path. Let the Lord guide you, and turn thy darkness into light. God be with you, forever and always."

Blessings weren't hard to do. It could be simple or drawn out. The best ones were pieced together with verses from the holy scriptures. It sounded more impressive and divine that way. Either way, the effect was the same. Linus took the coins from her hand, dropping them inside the poor box. The woman's inquiry about a church prompted a small chuckle form his throat. It had been a while since he heard of someone ask where the Church of Light was. In a city were you're the minority, the little things are what stand out the most.

"We do not have a proper church here. Only a small chapel for worship and a monastery where my brothers live. The chapel is in the center of the city in the Hall of Gods. Big stone structure with gaudy statues, you can't miss it. Ours is the simple stone alter inside with the cross and rising sun. I'm on my way there if you would like to follow."

With out a second to spare he turned heel and began his journey to the heart of the city. A thought crossed his mind as he made his first step. Nagging, annoying little tug. He returned to the woman. Preoccupied with his own tasks he neglected to show the expected social graces.

"Pardon me. I am Father Linus."

⊶ • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ⊷

Here abidith Faith, Hope and Love, these three
But the greatest of these, is Love.

[Peaceful Revolution]

xx

L u c i n d a xxxx F r o s t

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for
and certain of what we do not see.

May I be worthy to be a Child of the Light.

Forgive the sins of my youth, I pray you, as I fulfill
the tasks you have given me; that I may have
the whispers of my heart within my hands . . .





Lucinda closed her eyes and bowed her head as he turned to give her the blessing. If he lacked enthusiasm, she didn't notice. Turn thy darkness into light. The words echoed in her head and struck a familiar chord. Her prayers always sent her to a quiet, bright place, deep inside her mind ... the same place she'd learned of the blue caravan (whatever or wherever that was.) Her eyes opened as he withdrew his hand and she looked at him frankly, taking in his appearance. His graying hair gave away that he was older than she'd first thought, but that only put her more at ease. She'd spent most of her life surrounded by people older than her and it left her constantly surprised by the antics of the younger generation.

There was only a small, simple chapel, she learned, but that was fine enough for her. The past few months had left her quite at an ends on her search. She wouldn't put it past the punishment of God for neglecting her faith. True, their religion was not the largest, but she had the means to find a church. Indeed, if anyone did, she did. Unconsciously, she shifted the bag in her hands.

"Thank you," she said and began to follow him, a few steps behind. His introduction reminded her that it had never occurred to share her own name. Father Linus? It rang no bells amongst the names of northern clergyman, but then again ... it was the distant, frozen north. Who, this far away, would have likely ever visited?

"Lucinda," she answered. She was tempted to suggest the name of the convent, but decided against it. "God pointed me here to find a blue caravan," she said, conversationally, "and I'm hoping I shall find answers at the church. This city ... is much too large. I hail from the north, and I've never seen a place this size. It seems a wonderful place to have your pocket picked."

[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

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His toenails were far too long, and they seemed to be polished. Had Beck done this to the boy's feet? He peeked at one of his toenails and wiped at it with the pad of his thumb. Nope. It wasn't coming off that easily. Beck was a right jackass, and this was thought even before the pale man gave him a good kick to the bottom. Thanks Beck, you're really awesome. So awesome in fact, that you might be missing a few parasols in the near future. They might just EXPLODE from the sheer awesome of your being.

And there, the hint of bitterness in Beck's voice. It was sharp, and he wanted to laugh at him, because it was so silly. Instead, he blew a raspberry against the boy's calf, and the boy fiddled with the metal emblem on his turban. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Abel, still standing there, looking dopey. He caught the boy's eye and motioned with his hand for him to move this along. Chop chop. As Panyin approached, he saw a convenient opportunity. One in which two birds could be killed with one stone."Panyin, if you could...Abel...not very gung ho as I'd like him to be. Perhaps you could accompany him and the both of you could take care of your obligations together?" The boy rubbed his hand over the scruff of Rasheik's beard, and he couldn't but smile. The girl's question made him slightly uneasy, but...it was a simple enough question, and the answer was fairly harmless. "Yes, he is my son. His mother didn't want him consorting with my ilk, but he has no other option. I'll be around long after she is. Will she even see him again? I don't know." The boy paused, and he could feel the uneasiness caused by his words. It was best to move on from the subject, and he moved to something more like business.

"The slaver, I have heard is name is Amir. I doubt it's his actual name, but names become less and less relevant the more of them you have. He's probably in his thirties, massive scarring on one side of his face.He has a wagon, multiple slaves inside of it, abused and chained.

"He's been laying low since I ...arrived. I haven't spoken to him, but I know he's aware of what is going on. You can do with him as you like. He is of little consequence to me."

Rasheik proceeded to lead them towards the slaver's wagon, pausing about twenty feet away, watching it with a keen eye. He didn't see signs of movement, and so he proceeded forward. "Your boss inside?" he asked the guards outside. They glared their eyes and moved forward, pressing closer to the bandit king. Calmly, he pressed his forearms against their chests and pushed them aside. Amir was not inside. Perhaps he had wandered out into the market place, but there, along the sides of the wagon were various slaves in chains. "He's not here, but his slaves are. Aria could tell you more about them. And Beck, I see that you've ingratiated yourself with the officials here. Could you...use that charm to work me into their graces too? Perhaps for a meal before the festival?" He felt the child shiver on his shoulders, and he looked up at the boy. He was looking at the women in chains, and there was a frown on his delicate lips. Still sensitive. One of the perks to being a child - you maintained a sense of innocence and pathos that the years could scrub off you like the harshest of steel wool. Would he be the steel wool for this boy? He eyeballed the guards in the doorway, and arched a brow at their menacing stares. They looked away. "Make sure you told him that I was here. Tell him that I was looking for him." For the child's sake, he stepped outside of the wagon, but not too far away so that Beck could still speak to him. Or so that he could still listen.

x
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[Watervoir]

Ѵeȴɩus Kɩɾʈɑ
ɳoble

As he watched Evelyn leave, a doleful sigh escaped his parted lips. It was grating on his nerves to find Eve prodding him. Out of curiosity, out of concern...Heck, she could have been doing it out of fear for his mental stability. But whatever the reason was, there were moments in his life when he didn’t appreciate people examining him, especially so when it was clear they were taking a shot in the dark to do it. Besides, he needed time to get over the gaffe, so the less mention of anything to do with it in the meantime, the better.

Eve had been sent off on a hunch and with any luck he hadn’t mistaken the exchange between Rasheik and Abel for anything more than what it really was. In the best case, if the first part of learning about the farmboy’s objectives didn’t keep her busy, then the second part of her mission, where she was to poke around and see what she could reap from following him around, would. Her temporary leave was not too bitter a pill to swallow for learning a thing or two about others and some time alone. His order wasn’t given out on a whim... Well, it wasn’t as if she would die, unless Rasheik had sent Abel on a trip to his death. Velius smiled at the daftness of his own thoughts.

He entered the first bakery he found and left with a package of a neat half-dozen assortment of scrumptious pastries, soft, crisp and oven-fresh. Heavenly. Turning back to the road, Velius withheld the temptation to snack and began to contemplate the whole matter quietly to himself. It was bliss to be able to muse freely on subjects every once in a while. He had left Aria with Beck and one out of the many universal blunders that constituted him was his knack for treating his slaves well. It wasn’t to say the seer was truly one, but the slaver might decide to consider it so. While that would be ideal for Aria’s sake and sanity presently, it would also prove quite a dilemma later on; Beck was rather possessive.

As he continued down the crowded path, a sentence uttered under a single breath stood out amongst the muddle of conversations. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes drifting a ways down the lane in the direction of the voice. His previous thoughts had been chased away, his interests now perked by the mention of a sole two words. His wandering gaze met the sight of a scholarly man and, Velius having realized he could not have been the one to have spoken, it travelled to a point below his shoulder which the summit of the orange mane of a just barely surpassed. Velius had to tilt his chin to look at the redhead’s face. A younger looking but taller girl lingered behind and perhaps was with the other two, but Velius didn’t pay her much mind.

“Regrettably, there fares many things in this city far worst and stranger still than fervent pickpockets,” he told them blithely as he approached the group. Including Rasheik the Bold, bandits and, not any better than the rest of the lot, Beck. This girl might soon turn out to be one to add to the list, with the bloated sack dangling limply over her shoulder. With a smirk playing at the corners of his lips he continued, maintaining the speech that could only be considered foreign to his usual. “God had not been mistaken in guiding you here, for there truly exists wagons surrounded by walls awash with majestic blue within the confines of this city.”

He wasn’t the type to regularly engage in conversation with strangers, especially clergymen, out of the blue, but then again his curiosity had been driven to a point where he would be in downright lament should he have passed up the opportunity. If it turned out the talk of the Blue Caravan wasn’t just a thing of casual conversation and that this group, or at least one of its members, truly had the intention to join it, he wanted to know about it. Aria would laugh at him later.

[Nacht s t e a m p u n k]

Watch ❅ My ✾ Arrow ❂ Fly ❃

❅ It wasn't difficult to locate the way to the Hall of the Gods, the entire city was based around it. Lucia decided it was much easier just to follow the flow of the crowd to the innards of the city rather than ask for directions. On a map, the city seemed rather simple to follow, however with all the temples, closely built building, stands popping up at inopportune moments and the ever random square, Belorner was quite a labyrinth to someone who had been there less than a day. Lucia was just thankful for the rare breeze that seemed to pass in all the chaos due to the growing masses as she neared the nexus of the city.

I hate cities. Lucia had actually grown up in a nomadic community, but that was really all she could remember of that distant past. Well, that and wind. So much wind and openness that one often wondered how their spirit was not yet released to join the ancient voices of the elements that swirled around them. Nonetheless, that was a far off place with the barest hint of memory in her mind. Lucia could only truly remembered what happened after. Tents burning, horses shrieking in pain, flashing steel and the haunting sound of chains. Too many, Lucia's past would be seen as a dark and horrific one. She preferred thinking it as a jump start on the reality of her world.

Walking down the road- which was really more of a dual carriageway as two large carts going in either direction could pass the other comfortably while not running over the pedestrians- Lucia carried her cloak over her arm and watched. She was currently being enveloped by a large group of men and women in long robes who were murmuring words that she guessed to be prayers of some sort. Patiently, she waited for the cavalcade of people to pass. More and more pious clothing could be seen, making her almost want to roll her eyes at such nonsense that most religions believed that their 'children' must wear certain types of clothing to be one of the faith. Lucia did, however give a chuckle after hearing a priest's words as he accepted money from a young woman only a few feet away. The Word is a lamp, my a**. The gods don't give a s**t who lives or dies as long as they get what they want and reap all the benefits. The procession was still moving when Lucia listened to the young woman with the priest. What she said was truly hilarious. Lucia had to cover her mouth with her hand to muffle the noise, but her shoulders shook slightly with laughter. Cities might not be that bad after all. You can find the most interesting of people.

The crowd of priests passed and Lucia gave one more glance at the pair before going on her way with a smirk. In a few minutes, she was within the center of the Hall of Gods. It was a large, round forum with all the temples outlining the open center where a large fountain stood in the center of the city. Lucia approached the nexus and looked at it with curiosity. Many marble nude statues of the gods stood at the center of the pool with their hands upholding a giant sphere of the world where water sprouted from. In the middle, under the sphere and behind the statues, was a revolving mechanical artwork. Each statue stood on their own platform with their names scripted in gold. It was a beautiful piece of work, Lucia thought. She sat on the edge of the fountain and looked at the temples which were parallel to their according statue in the fountain. If I were a sacred spring that was heavily guarded, where would I be?

[lilly_child_RP]

“Mmmmm” the audible expression of delight in a taste. And she, the quiet one who never made her feelings known, had just uttered it. Must be tiered... Astyri quickly put a frown on and prepared to stand up from the bench. Sitting made her so so very restless and with the whole of Belorner ahead of her, just waiting to be explored, she had very little reason to sit and rest on an empty-




Get the bloody hell away from me.As Astyri looked from side to side her eyes fell to her right. There beside her sat a man, attempting to appear like he didn’t realize the dark skinned elf at his side. With a swift motion she stood and quickly stalked off. The nerve of him, taking a seat by me It wasn’t so much that she didn’t feel he deserved to be in her presence, nay, the problem was that she distinctly despised people in such close proximity whom she was not acquainted with, such as the man left alone on the bench with that stupid look on his face. There was no doubt he was wondering if he smelled particularly bad or if there was something wrong with him. Silly humans, they never quiet understand the Drow, ever. The thin line that was her mouth pulled at the corners, elongating her lips slightly. This was her countenances’ version of a smile. Humans were pleasantly innocent creatures, they really were, and thinking of meeting those traveling with the Blue Caravan just seemed equally pleasant.

Her long strides brought her back into the river of bodies moving about the marketplace and here she drifted around for a brief moment before coming full circle so that before her sat the array of wagons and carts that made up the Blue Caravan. She paused, allowing the traffic to flow past her as she stared ahead. With a curt nod she made up her mind to go and find whomever was in charge of the group. Her eyes scanned with their half open lids, looking for authority. There was a man and a young lady slinking away, no not them. What about that man and woman…no not a woman, another man as well. And a child, how cute. The thought was very sarcastic, but not cruel. Children were okay hen they were obedient, but disobedient ones were to be sent away in her opinion. Astyri stood in the crowd still, observing, thinking, plotting. Her thin mouth stretched again into a muted smirk as she thought of a rather entertaining method of making herself known. Alas she had no paper to write upon, so sending an arrow into a caravan was less than plausible.

A lady similar in age to Astyri, appearance wise, came and spoke with the obvious male figure of the little group. She noted how the guards of the particular wagon they stood in front of obeyed the man, how he seemed to send orders from afar. “You” She stated out loud. The thin line curved up ever so slightly; a smile. This would be enjoyable in the least. Slowly Astyri made her way towards the turban donned man, coming up behind him with silent steps. No doubt he’d feel her presence if he was any sort of leader. Drow are hard to miss when they want to be found, and the child looking about with those wide clear eyes. Fall on me. And eventually they did. She held his innocent gaze, and waited for attention to turn to her in it’s own time.