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.

[The Rectumbler]

"Shop til you drop attitude? What is Velius, a teenage girl?" Beck said, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the noble's vernacular as he went off with ...a teenage girl. "What a f**," he muttered, shaking his head at the noble's back before he took his little entourage with him. Their rag tag team had to have been quite bizarre looking. A queen with a parasol, a bandit king, Kingsley practically drooling like a savage over a peach (Seriously, his manners. Beck would have to talk to him about that later. It was getting to be really embarrassing.), the pale seer, and the girl who trailed behind with bare feet. Could she not afford shoes? There were really darling sandles being sold at the market over yonder...but then again, she wasn't Beck's responsibility, now was she? So she'd just be a little groupie. So many teenage girls. Yeesh.

In the past couple weeks, Beck had been ingratiating himself to all the right people in all the right places, and that had made life all the more simple for him while in Belorner. That reminded him, he needed to tell Rasheik something. "Sheiky, doll, I had a bit of a bite to eat earlier, and he alluded that there might be something amiss. He suggested that we ...leave town as quickly as possible." Beck looked to Rasheik's face and was disappointed by the lack of a reaction. He had thought that this would be questioned at least, something...but no, Rasheik played a tight pokerface. "He seemed quite serious you know. So get what you came for, and when you leave, take me with you. Someone needs to stay on top of admiring your arms, and Kingsley would love to breed with your mares. Wouldn't you dear? Yes, yes you would." Beck cooed at his little slave, stroking his cheek lovingly and pinching it gently.

They passed through the crowds with a certain flowing grace that stemmed from Beck's presence. They'd seen him with their consul, strolling so casually, and they could only speculate at the nature of their relationship - but deep down they knew that he had the consul's ear, and he was one to stay on the good side of. The man beside him looked equally intimidating, brooding with darker skin and wise eyes. Plus, there had been whispers of Rasheik the Bold making his presence in the city thanks to a blabbermouthed noble, and perhaps this strange man was him. They wouldn't put it past the pale b*****d to be his boon companion. Not at all.

Finally, they approached the hall of justice. He paused to take in the grand majesty of the building, climbing up higher and higher, supremely beautiful in structure, and it took him a moment to fathom that something so grand could exist. To think, this was nothing in comparison to the temples, especially the main one that Rasheik had sent the boy off to. Once more, he resumed his bored attitude with life and brought them all inside. He passed by government officials without a second thought, waving at the ones he found particularly charming.

He led them through corridors, and down a flight of steps carved from pristine marble. He paused for a moment to remove his boots, then handed them off to Kingsley. The cool stone felt delicious underfoot, and he wanted to treasure this moment. Silently, they approached a room kept dark, lit in the corners by candles. The smell of incense permeated the room, and in the center, on a pillow, sat a young boy cross legged. One hand was raised before him, his hand held with his fingers in the formation of a snake's head. His arm began at his knee and wound up, his wrist twisting slightly, his arm taking on the sinuous body. Not three feet ahead of him, the woven lid of a basket rose and fell backwards. A cobra emerged, hood spread as if ready to attack. And yet...the way the snake moved, it was following the boy's arm. The two of them were perfectly synchronized. The boy's eyes were focused, locked on the snake's, and the two continued their dance.

Beck turned to Rasheik, gesturing to the boy with one hand open. There he was, safe and sound. And, in case Rasheik was blind, he was also quite the charmer.

At the sound of their footsteps, the boy's gaze broke, and the snake slipped back into its basket with a soft hissssss.... The boy stood and approached Beck, bowing politely to him with his palms pressed together in front of his chest before he turned to Rasheik. For a moment, he looked as if he were holding something back, something he wanted to say.

"You have returned," the boy finally choked out. Awkwardly he moved to stand beside Rasheik, and his hand lingered near the other man's before slipping inside of it. Almost as quickly as it had been there it was withdrawn. Beck took Aria's hand in his gloved one once more,

"The exchange is fair Sheiky. Now, if you don't mind we should see to getting out of here. That is, unless you had something else in mind?" Beck knew he really didn't need to ask, he was sure that Rasheik had plenty in mind, and Beck, being bored, would like to be a part of it.

[artfreek]

~~~~Nesa Comec~~~~


“The others can fair just fine without me.” Nesa said back to Aria. “I have no doubt with how tough you are, but I would rather be safe than sorry.” She finished. She wouldn't except any protest from her and even if Aria did protest Nesa could stay with them without Aria knowing. It seemed a cruel thought to take advantage of her blindness, but watching over her was more important.

Nesa felt that she didn't belong with the group as she walked with them like she was trespassing, but she ignored it. It wasn't as if something as little as that could push her away. Nobody really seemed to mind that she was tagging along. In fact they didn't pay her much mind though she thought she had seen beck glance down at her feet. Normally should would have been waring shoes since they were in a city, but she was tired of them and was taking advantage of not absolutely having to wear them.

It was odd listening to Beck talk and when he referred to the bandit king as “Sheiky” she had to stifle a surprised laugh. What he said next dashed away her laughs however. Some one had told them to leave. It seemed as if it was because something bad was going to happen. Then Beck spoke of going with Rasheik when he left, so Aria would be coming with them. It seemed that Nesa didn't need to worry about Aria because she would be with her. What if Rasheik didn't stay with the caravan? They wouldn't have a leader anymore since Ausch disappeared. The caravan would probably just stay put in Belorner. Then Nesa wouldn't be with Aria. She never thought she would have wanted Rasheik to keep his control on the caravan, but she found herself having that exact wish.

The group kept walking finally coming to a big building that seemed important though Nesa wasn't sure what it was. They made there way into the building going farther and farther in until they came to their destination. It was a dark room only lit by a few candle's and it had an odd scent to it. Fitting, it seemed a lot of things that had to do with beck were odd. The boy sitting in the middle of the room didn't change the pattern. He seemed normal except for the fact that he seemed to be charming a snake in a basket. He stopped when he noticed people were there and he stood and bowed to Beck, before standing next to Rasheik. Apparently they knew each other and she was curious as to how, but she couldn't exactly just ask. He was the reason Beck got Aria. That made her resent the boy a little, though she knew it probably wasn't fair. She doubted the boy had any say in what was going on. With the new addition to the group Beck made the suggestion of leaving. Nesa assumed he meant the building, but she realized he could have meant the city. The caravan hadn't been in the city long. It seemed to soon to be leaving already, though Beck's words made you think that something else might happen. Nesa felt like she was getting half of a conversation. She was missing random facts that were key to what was going on and she was hoping she would learn them soon.

[Unais]

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX╠ Ҏᾀηɏῑɴ Ѥ
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX"I'm bad luck?"

The smell of leather and hay catches her in mid-breath. Noise of surprise suffocates in the throat. The struggle is unconscious. Body tries to fight the anomalous obstacle cutting off the airways. Then realization of conscious asphyxia. Heart palpitates. Struggle subdues into the entity behind her. Tendons and fibers become taut. Body still tries for air.

He waits behind her, a voice from the darkness making her aware in that mess of breathless coping of a cold, finite line touching along her throat. A familiar thing. Not something to be afraid of but the half minute of suffocation is dizzying. The hand goes from her mouth and she gasps for the few moments lost of air before the hand returns to bring her dropped head to attention.

She looks at him for a few moments, trying to calm the easily shaken flesh and resume a normal state. Strange how a brief moment of missing air can throw a mortal being.

Panyin wonders what intents and purposes the man holds for her. He has no plans for her future. He doesn't plan to kill her. He can, but would prefer to sharpen his sword on her skin. No torture, no blood. The encounter has robbed her of a previous balance but the two as hostage and threat... do not touch.

And what was it that he mentioned? Up to... no good?

A blink. A smile. Blank, serene. "...Just... stealing."

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¤ "Hardly."

[treasured one]

Keziah La'Tive; currently: Belorner, stealing from the rich, keeping for herself.
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It was an uncommon thing, getting to watch the city fill up with people. All shapes, sizes, wealth level, and the ones like Keziah, on the very bottom. She'd had her apple and one of the pieces of bread that she'd taken, and after replacing her scarf and hood, the young woman began making her way around the city again, taking what she could from those who could afford to lose it. The larger merchants were busy with paying customers, so she nicked a loaf of bread or two, instead of sliced pieces. Her cloak was bulging, but it seemed to pass under everyone's radar. It was the one thing she liked about this ridiculous city. Everywhere else, a fully cloaked figure hiding their face was a point of suspicion and interest. Here, a fully cloaked figure was just another religious nut job doing it because of what they believed. She would miss that, she realized, dodging around some arguing merchants.

Not everywhere she went would it be this easy to hide. Briefly, she thought about hiding out here for the rest of her life. Almost instantly, the idea was abandoned. The girl had passed another cluster of people around the wanted posters, the largest of which showcased her face. She hurried away, not wanting any of them to look at her. It really was time to leave Belorner, and this new caravan's arrival was perfect. She would have to find a way to get in with them... somehow. There might be a merchant that needed an extra hand or the guards might need an extra blade - she would be fine with either. Just long enough to get out of the city. And perhaps, Keziah frowned as the idea of returning to the ranch where she was born crossed her mind again. Her family, as simple folk as they were, were probably still there. They had never seen a reason to leave. Her sisters might be married now, and her brothers as well. Maybe her father was dead and mother running the show. If such were the case, she wondered if any of them missed her at the funeral or any of the weddings. They were all older than she, and none of them had ever been especially close. She'd always been the wild one; her departure had proved that.

In transitioning from market to market, it was not unusual to see some disruption. Today was no different - Keziah witnessed a woman demonstrate how to properly show a man who's boss. The woman must not be from around here. Keziah was impressed by her actions, albeit jealous as well. There was a time when she was the one causing scenes, drawing attention to herself to prove that she was not to be underestimated. The blond woman, now heading away from the man with the broken wrist, seemed to have done the same. Rarely were women in the business of fighting, and Keziah suppressed a smirk at the thought of the number of men who had been beaten, cut, had limbs broken, or otherwise disabled by her for assuming she couldn't. Absentmindedly, the raven haired fugitive shadowed the woman, wondering what her business was. When she deposited herself at a tavern, Keziah did not linger. She needed to find that caravan, but not without glancing back. She didn't even bother hiding the scar as she shifted her face; very little attention was on her as she walked.

Though her tastes lay with men, after losing her pristine face, she found she more appreciated other womenfolk's beauty. And the one at the table was beautiful, whatever her job may be. As Keziah moved onward from the woman and tavern and towards the area in which she believed a caravan would have been sent, she hoped that the unknown woman would never have her past stamped on her face like Keziah did. It was a fate none should suffer.

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[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

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ABEL'S FABLES
Volume Two Chapter Forty Seven
Abel can't handle Ebosia's rock n' roll lifestyle.

Whoa.

Was she...was her hair..."Uh...Miss, I ...uh, your hair is green." Abel swallowed hard and took a quick step backwards. Maybe she wasn't from around here. It was all a bit hard for him to take. A woman, with green hair. Bandit kings he could take, and men made out of sand, sure, sure. But women with green hair?

Maybe he should try this again before he found out that she had tentacles in her armpits to strangle him with.

"Well, m'name is Abel. N' I'm kinda Rasheik's hostage, bu' s'more...of makin' me be his cohort b'force. Anyway, well, 'e sent me on this mission...n' I gotta get special water. N'...I gotta be a priest or a healer, n' m'neitha. M'real good with crops n' horses n' such, but ...priestin'? I donno nothin' about priestin'. I think ya have ta be a real good person ta be one of them, n' I've loosened m'fair share of teeth. N' healin'...that requires smarts, n' I donno much, so i don' have those either.

"I kinda need help findin' someone who does." Abel removed his hat, which he began to rotate in his hands, fingers hesitantly pinching the edge. "If'n ya could just point m'in the right direction, I'd be much oblig'd." Abel shuffled a little from one side to the other, "Or, if'n ya'd just prefer I leave...I can do that ta." Which might even be safer. She had green hair, and possibly armpit tentacles to kill him with.

OH GOD NO, SHE'S RAISING HER ARMS. HE IS DOOOOOMED.

[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

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Dutifully, he followed Beck. He watched the people around him, noticed his surroundings, and stored it all away for later. He always liked to know the lay of any land that he was in. If only in case he ever needed to make a quick escape or hide from someone he'd rather not be caught by. The building he was led to was certainly impressive, and it became apparent that his associate had made quite the name for himself.

"Who did you have to sleep with to get yourself here?" he murmured, and he doubted Beck heard him, for there seemed to be no noticeable reaction.

When Beck addressed him as 'Sheiky' he frowned. It was cutesy. Bandit Kings didn't do cutesy. Bandit Kings rolled hard, they had names with hard sounding letters. But Beck was Beck, and when it came to cutesy, Rasheik would let him get away with murder. So Beck had been warned had he? He frowned at the thought of needed to shorten their stay. He really wanted that water from the fountain, and he really doubted that Abel could take care of it in that short of a time span. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he doubted his choice in sending Abel. Sure the boy was great with people, and he was sweet, but that didn't really get people as far as it used to.

They made their way down marble stairs, and he paused behind Beck who had stopped to remove his boots. You really didn't get more eccentric than little things like that. He chose to keep his own boots on for sanitary reasons. That, and because his feet didn't look nearly as dainty and perfect as Beck's. He froze when he saw the boy in the center of the room, drawing a a sharp breath. His heart pounded, and he actually felt a little nervous. It was almost as if the boy were putting on a show for them, showing them his newfound talent. This was what he had learned when he was with Beck, and Rasheik would admit, he was impressed. When the boy finished and approached him, he knew he should say something, but no words came to mind. There was the touch of the boy's hand, soft fingers against his own callused palms, and then it was gone.

He had returned, just as he had promised.

"Did this ... morsel of yours tell you why we should leave? Or was he just an ignorant twa--" Rasheik looked to the boy next to him and immediately changed his word choice. "-- twit like a lot of other people you associate with?" He paused, then looked at the boy again. Bandit Kings didn't hold a child's hand...but..

...well...

maybe just this once. Rasheik took the boy's hand in his own, leading him gently from the room and down the stairs, back out into the sunlight. Instantly his demeanor changed as he spoke to the boy, who silently observed the bandit king. "You won't believe what I managed to get a hold of. A whole caravan full of people. That's right. It's what I've been up to since I've been gone. Keeping busy, but safe just like I told you I would. And I sent one of them off on a little mission for me, and I've always wanted to explore this place..."

Eh, screw the warning. He was a Bandit King, and he was immortal. Plus, he was on an emotional high right now. He'd do as he pleased.

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[The Rectumbler]

Beck felt a twist inside of his stomach as he watched Rasheik walk with the child's hand in his own. He instantly recognized it as jealousy, but a silly jealousy. It wasn't because he wanted to be frolicking along beside Rasheik in bliss, but rather since this was a part of Rasheik's life he knew very little about. Here was a side to this man that he had never been privy to before. It wasn't much - just a sign of tenderness, but it was more affection than he had ever seen the bandit display towards anyone. Who was this brat anyway? He had been obedient, quiet, and well disciplined. Did a man hold the hand of a mere slave?

Beck looked over at Kingsley and pursed his lips. So maybe he did. Sometimes. Well, he supposed he could forgive Rasheik for that fault then. The boy was looking up at Rasheik now, with wide eyes of a startling shade of blue. Cute kid actually. "No, my morsel didn't say what it was. I didn't really think to ask at the time either. I was busy. But now isn't the time to be a petulant child about things Sheiky. Especially when we have a genuine child around to do it for us, and a slip of a girl trailing behind us who I am sure could proffer the same attitude. So don't you dare stamp your Princess feet and demand that you get your way." But it seemed that Rasheik was no longer listening.

He thought he was so damn great because he had a caravan. Well wasn't he just the prettiest princess in the pageant? Beck rolled his eyes, and stopped to put his boots back on before they traipsed back out into the sweltering sun. "Besides, you never know what it could be when it involves religious folk like these lot. They're always the ones who go batshit crazy at the drop of a pin." Rasheik peered at him over his shoulder, and the child did the same before they both looked away from him. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when it all goes to s**t and falls on our heads."

When they entered the sunlight, he popped open his parasol to cover both his and Aria's heads, a little extra oomph thrown into the opening of it, taking away from the delicacy of the act. Obviously Beck's little feather's were ruffled about something. "Blah blah, I'm a sassy bandit king with such glorious arms. Lookit me! I work out! I lift weights! I lift women as weights! I've even bench pressed a camel, just for giggles!" What a jerk. A jerk with great arms. He continued a bit in silence before turning to the seer, "So m'dear, what have you been up to? How'd you meet that queen, Velius? Who is who is this little nest of weirdos that I'm about to enter?"

[artfreek]

~~~~Nesa Comec~~~~


Nesa was astonished by Rasheik's gentleness towards the child. He held the boys hand just they Nesa's father held her hand when she was young. His words were so warm the way he spoke, completely different from what you would expect from some one like him. It made Nesa smile, maybe he wasn't as bad as the stories told. She could help, but keep her eyes on the two as they walked.

Despite Nesa's eyes being directed towards the father son looking duo her ears were still listening to Beck. She was referred to, in passing, but apparently they did know she was there. She wasn't quite sure what his words meant though. He used a few words she hadn't heard before, but she thought it could be taken as an insult, but she was quite sure. She got the impression that it was something like an misbehaving child. That wasn't really the part of the part of his words that he focused on though. She realized she was trailing behind the group. She thought about getting closer, but she wasn't sure what that would do for her.

She stared at the three in front of her debating. She was curious about the Kingsley person. He seemed to be interesting and Nesa wanted to see if her impression was right. She was hesitant to just go up and talk to him though, not sure what the reaction would be. So she decided to stay behind. She was close enough to hear what everyone was saying, but she could also see everyone. Beck seemed to be ranting about Rasheik, or he was until he directed some questions to Aria. Nesa really enjoyed Beck's little outburst about Rasheik. It was odd how childishly he was making fun of the bandit king. He was like a gripey, over dramatic teenager. She found it incredibly funny.

With Beck and Aria having the beginnings of a conversation Nesa's tongue was itching to have a conversation of it's own. She was talking less than she normally did and her tongue could do no more silence. A question that had been swimming around lazily in her head popped to the surface. Well she might as well take advantage of Rasheik's seemingly kinder demeanor. She quickened her step bringing herself up next to the child. She walked a few steps quietly before she spoke. “If I were to ask how the great bandit king Rasheik happened upon a child would I get an answer?”

[jadeshaw88]

If only night could hold you...


Ari frowned at Velius' parting words. It almost sounded like he was trying to be helpful but...if she had just been traded as a slave, what good was his information. Was he just trying to confuse her so that the blow was that much harder when she found out her life was no longer her own? Well, fine. If he's going to be like that, see if she sought him out once she finally freed herself. As nice as this Beck fellow appeared to be, she was not going to remain a slave for long.

When Beck started grumbling about Velius, she bit her lip to hide a laugh and let him lead her through the city. This man had to be the strangest man she had ever met but she liked him. He had a good sense of humor and he held the same opinions that she did...mostly anyway. She was fairly certain that they both enjoyed the company of men too. Interesting. It wasn't like she hadn't met others with such a preference...in fact, she was usually quite friendly with such men. They were fun to talk to and they usually made her laugh until her sides were near to splitting. Beck seemed to be that type. Would it be so bad to be his slave for a while? Yes, unfortunately. She would not stand for the title. Still, he hadn't actually said that she was a slave, none of them had. Oh this was too confusing!

She had let her mind wander as they walked along and she hadn't been paying attention to where they were going. It wasn't until she felt a coolness on her skin and smelled burning wax that she realized they had walked out of the sun. Considering that there were candles burning and there was a slight echo from their voices, she assumed that they were inside somewhere....possibly underground. She could take her blindfold off, probably, but she didn't like the idea of letting Beck know that she could see in the dark just then. Maybe after she got to know what he was about. She thought she heard a boy speak but it was gone as soon as it came. Then more talk of exchange and an urgent need to leave. Had she ever been in Belorner at this time of year before? Didn't the priestesses at The Temple of the Mother say something about Belorner? She couldn't remember.

Beck's complaints when they started back up the stairs and into the sunlight brought a fresh smile to her face. Yes, they definitely shared a common appreciation for men. When his attention finally turned to her, she smiled again and shrugged. "I was kidnapped by bandits and held in a cave for a while before they took us to Shahrazad and released us. Then I stuck my foot in my mouth when I discovered the real name of a slaver who wished it to be kept secret and used it. I was the reason that the Red Tavern burned down because the slaver mentioned above decided to smoke me out where he could get me...or rather where he could send his banshee after me." She paused to take a breath when her voice left her in a shudder. "I was brained and thrown into a dirty slave wagon, nearly raped and beaten. Then I was rescued by my friends in the Blue Caravan where I met...how did you put it?...'that queen, Velius' who invited himself into my wagon. For all that he's a jerk, I think we're friends...in a strange sort of way. Anyway, then the Caravan was taken over by Rashiek the Bold who was pretending to be a woman at the time. He used me as a hostage at first and somehow brought up a sandstorm...either that or it was extremely good luck...for him anyway. Abel exchanged himself for me, sweetheart that he is, and now...here I am. Covered in dried blood and gods know what from the slave wagon, half starved, sand burned and bruised. My walking stick got left at the Red Moon Tavern along with my other clothes."

She sighed and the hand that wasn't being held reached up to feel her makeshift blindfold. She didn't even have a decent veil. She shook her head and let her arm fall back to her side. "I'm sure that you saw Abel back at the Caravan. He doesn't go far from our leader these days." It was clear what she thought of that bit of information from her tone and the wrinkling of her nose. "You know Velius. Nesa was the girl that talked to be at the Caravan. She's a dancer and a good one at that. She does her best to look after me but...well, I kind of call trouble. There's a priest named Krios and a pair of merchants though I haven't met them. Our previous leader is missing." She frowned and her lip trembled for a moment but then she got her feelings under control. "He was a good friend to have in a pinch and he was always fair with us. I think that's everyone but I could have missed someone. I'll tell you if I remember them." She said, changing the subject before she lost her grip of her emotions again. She missed Aus and she worried for him. All she knew as that he was missing and she couldn't help but fear the worst. He wasn't one to simply hand over the Caravan, even if the hijacker was famous.

...Where I can see you, my love

[nouveau-riche]

Stealing, from her own? A peculiar expression spread across his features, one made partly of amusement and partly of sympathy. Whatever went on in this caravan must have been bad, to the point where it caused its travellers to turn their backs on one another. “I see,” he scoffed, staring down at her curvaceous figure with an inward smirk. “It must be tough.” With a knowing smile, he loosened his grip and let her go. Whatever she decided to do next was completely up to her; he didn’t wish to govern over her actions.

“Do you ladies have room for one more?” It would’ve been nice if he didn’t have to travel on horseback for the rest of his adventures—those beasts were a hassle to care for. “If there is a payment, just name your price.” Gradually, he tucked his blade away and walked back to where he’d momentarily settled: in the darkest corner of the compartment, it was most comfortable there. His arms folded over his chest, his hand brought up to stifle a yawn. He was tired, he wanted shut his eyes for a moment; take a nap for an hour or two.

“Oh,” before he forgot, Lucien searched his pockets, pulling out a small, worn out sack and tossing it over to the female traveller. “There are about a dozen gold coins in that bag. Buy yourself something nice—don’t steal from your own crew.” Mockery, condescension and a slight pinch of pity was imbued in his words. He didn’t expect much more from women, to be honest. Always out there to better one another, always seeking the best for themselves. They were cunning creatures, masking their true intentions behind that alluring, demure grin. Of course not all of them were as able enough to use their powers to their full extent, but she was, and she did, and that was more than enough to tear down his perception of the entire female persuasion. Women were advocates of the Devil himself, and Lucien knew this; he spoke from firsthand experience.

The corner was tight, but cosy, nonetheless. He stretched his legs out, careful not to knock over a tower of books. Tilting the brim of his hat, his head fell with a nod; heavy lids dragged his eyes shut and another yawn slipped past his lips. “What’s your name?” he sighed, his hand casually resting around the hilt of his sword. “Maybe I’ll dream of you in my sleep.” A smirk lifted the corner of his lips, charming and amused as always.

[John Van]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxӺatђeɍ Ƚȋnuʂ Ӻoωʆeɍ

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Nearly toppled by the girls embrace, Linus shifted his weight to keep his balance. His spine arched tiny knots swirled up his spine. His arm stiffened under the girls weight. An unpleasant feeling, awkward and unnatural. Linus never understood the physical need to latch onto something during times of duress. Maybe it was because people felt the need to hold onto the closest thing grounded so whatever was causing them duress wouldn't sweep them away. Hugging, holding hands, a firm grip. It set his teeth on edge. He had a bubble; one that always seemed to get popped Stop touching me. Stop touching me.

Gradually the girls grip on his armed loosened. Linus, however, did not relax. To keep his mind off of another human being dragging him down, he decided to keep his mind fixed on moving through the crowd. Just pretend she's a very heavy tote bag... keep dragging along and she'll let go.

It was easy to go along with the illusion. Until the bag began to talk, that is. Through a sincere yet strained smile he nodded at Joese.

"My name is Linus Fowler. Though everyone just calls me Father Linus."

With all the traffic in the streets it was easy to get swept up in the mob. Working against the current, Linus struggled towards a calm in the river. The taverns served many purposes. It helped ease the pains of the day for the slightly more skeptical believer. If you could not find God in a shrine, you could find him in a bottle. Escape was a powerful drug that unfortunately swallowed a good many souls. Despite the evils of alcohol, it provided the lubrication needed to loosen the lips of the city. The taverns were a hub for gossip, news, politics and debates that ran the gambit from important to mind numbing.

"So, what brings you to the city Joese? You're a little young to be traveling by yourself. Did you come with someone?"

The sooner I get her back to where ever she came from, the better. Linus wasn't too thrilled about the possibility of becoming a babysitter for the day. He needed to prepare his effects, find a way out of the city and do it all without being mugged or stabbed.

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

Here abidith Faith, Hope and Love
The greatest of these, is Love.

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

Watch ❅ My ✾ Arrow ❂ Fly ❃

❅ She had finished half of her pint before a man in robes caught her eye. He had a long, full beard and a belly that was growing probably along with his wealth. His pudging fingers were being choked by lavish rings and his ears had several rings lined along the lobes. When he gave her a smile, she felt disgusted by him though her face remained neutral. Recrossing her legs, Lucia gave a finger signal that was well known in her business. The man's smile grew bigger. After a few minutes, he came to her table and sat next to her. "Lovely weather, is it not? Unfortunately, I feel that it threatens to become a storm soon enough."

"Aye, I feel it within the air. A storm may pass, but the beauty it brings with it will be worth the wait and loss." They looked at each other for a few moments. Their words were just the beginning of their deal. To most who might be over hearing, it was a plain conversation of the weather. Leaning forward, Lucia placed her arms on the table between them and gave a slight smile. "What news of late?" The question of her job.

The man pushed back his hair before playing with the end of his beard. His smile was that of sweet honey, yet Lucia could feel more slime than sweetness within it. "This spring, my son Costhus has decided to become a priest within this city. I have yet to see him since he began for he is always locked away deep within the confines of whatever sacred place he remains. I wish to have word from him and his studies, but the monks insist of keeping such things secret until he is ready." Lucia mind took note of key words he used. Costhus. Sacred. Locked away. Secret. He wants something from a certain place.

Lucia nodded and took a sip of her pint. "I pray that he is able to send word soon. How many moons and suns have passed since he has left the house?" She looked him in the eye. By the look of him, he should be able to offer a good enough price.

"Seventy suns have passed since his departure. What news of you?" His eyebrow perked and he smiled. Lucia thought about it, taking another sip of her drink. There was a long pause. The man's eyes turned a shade darker in annoyance. Lucia smiled inwardly before taking one last sip of her drink and leaning back in her chair.

"I have been traveling for seventy-five suns across the land, doing meager jobs in between to pay to join caravans." She was testing the line of his limit. With the amount he suggested, she would not need a job again for over a month or so.

When he nodded and stood, she gave a bright smile and held out a hand. Their hands clasped, his sweaty palm against her cool, dry one. "I am glad to hear of your progress. Welcome to Belorner, friend. Send me word by messenger to the Halls of Learning, I am currently stationed within the Scholar area in the Red Lecture Room." He gave her a nod and allowed himself to be swallowed back into the crowd of people. Lucia paid for her drink and did the same. She had a job to do.

✭xxxxxxxxxx✭xxxxxxxxxx✭

She started in the Farmlands, thinking she could strike up a conversation with a friendly farmer or two. As she walked between farmlands, she saw a group of women carrying laundry to one of the small creeks that bypassed ever couple of acres. Lucia smiled and came upon them. They were all around her age and older. The woman struck up a conversation to which the women were timidly willing to comply with. After several minutes, she was able to be accepted as a new comer to the city who was recently married to a man that lived here. They all walked to the creek where Lucia offered to help with the washing and was soon standing within the cool waters, her skirts hitched higher on her legs to prevent them from being ruined.

Through all the gossiping and chit-chatting, Lucia was able to ask some questions, mostly that of a sacred place called Costhus. One of the women- Aria, right? I think that is her name- smiled, "Oh, the Sacred Spring? It is one of the reasons why so many pilgrimage to this city! They say it can heal any illness and, in large portions, it can even grant immortality, should the gods allow it. But it is so well guarded that the swarms that come in seeking it are not allowed within the Spring's gates. It is sad really, but at least our husbands are able to sell their goods and make a good profit out of these travelers." The other women chuckled and agreed with her. A sacred spring, huh? Where have I heard that one before.

After the laundry was finished, Lucia excused herself from the other women with the lie that she had to go to market to buy food for dinner that evening. She was going to make her 'husband's' favorite. She took a cart back to her inn and ate a bit of lunch after grabbing her cloak from her room. Lucia suspected she would be out most of the night and that it would get severely cold once the sun fell. Stepping out of the inn, Lucia took a deep breath and let it out. Now, the real investigation would begin. The first place to look: the Hall of Gods.

[Watervoir]

■ □ ■ - - Evelyn Alinari

┐

They walked on, constantly exposing themselves to new streets, districts and sights, and Velius had been quiet ever since they started the expedition. Admittedly, Evelyn was not familiar enough with the noble to know what he was thinking, but she had been acquainted with him long enough to contrive a plausible explanation to his apparent lack of response to Rasheik’s chastisement. Velius was a good actor, and presented before the easily impressionable air of the group they had been with, she figured it was a simple thing for him to stop himself from wearing his heart on his sleeve. Unfortunately, if this was indeed the case and he truly had his mind set on not revealing anything, this trait of his would have been also what was making it so hard for Evelyn to read him. Whether he was currently brooding, plotting, a mix of both or something entirely different, she had no clue.

The atmosphere shifted as they entered the Artisan district of the religious city, a process that began with the visual obstruction of the ancient walls of the city by crowds that teemed with a cursory excitement. Every step they took brought them within the audible range of a fresh set of gregarious lips that told their owner’s firsthand experiences, or so they said, of a disagreement between merchants and their shoppers, their unbridled beliefs that black would soon to become all the rage within the city, or the quality of the metalwork displayed on the shelves of various shops. It wasn’t clear how much of what was heard was truth and how much of it was mere whispers down the lane.

The boundless spirit of the crowd might have been compelling to the noble, for suddenly he spoke.

“My back is starting to hurt.”

Evelyn’s eyes, which had been intermittently floating from him to the surroundings and back again, immediately focused on her charge. She knew better than to let her attention wander when Velius was talking, no matter how trivial his subject matters happened to seem.

“Joke or not, why did he have to hit me so hard? I probably have a bruise now too.” He stretched an arm and folded it at the elbow to roll his shoulder as he walked.

He must have wanted to hold conversation; Velius would never talk to himself in the presence of others. It was though rather odd of him to use such melodramatic approaches though. The guard, unsure of what to make of his outcries and whether she was expected to reply to them, chose to change the topic. She was going to try taking a subtle approach to figure out what he was thinking and how he was feeling.

“You have not given the list.” Advertently, she didn’t mention to whom.

“Ah yes. I didn’t forget. I’ll give it to him later,” he said hollowly. It was difficult to judge him based on that response alone, so she tried another prompt.

“What about the seer?”

The question was not so much out of concern for Aria as it was unease for whatever repercussions would arise for them to deal with because of Velius’ choice to leave her with the slaver.

Velius’ pace suddenly slowed to a stop and Evelyn nearly bumped into him. A terrifying silence erupted between them, and Evelyn braced herself. It might have been a mistake to ask about the seer. Thinking back, it might have been a bad idea from the start to ask about Beck. Perhaps the noble really had been staging an act of indifference all along, and this would be the moment in which all strings would become undone and he would fall apart. So was he going to collapse in front of her, or would he reprimand her for failing to protect him from Rasheik? Or maybe something worse? Evelyn, infuriated with her incomprehension, eyed the sword by her charge’s hip in preparation for either outcome. It was at times like these that the guard found herself verging on something akin to fear.

“Evelyn, I have a big favour to ask of you.”

It had not come quite the way she had expected. Perplexed, she said nothing, waiting for instructions.

“I need you to go find that guy he was talking to.”

It had taken her some thinking and numerous extrapolations to realize who Velius was talking about. “...The farmboy?”

It was Velius’ turn to pause. Evelyn felt a little pleased at the thought of having divulged it to him, particularly because it was obviously knowledge he had no prior notion about.

“Yes, him. Find out what he’s up to and...Help him out with it.”

Evelyn hesitated. Immediately, she ran into a problem with the request: in order to carry it out, she would inevitably be leaving her charge’s side. While there was no rule in her house against this from happening, it was heavily looked down upon, almost to the degree of a full-blown desertion. But then again, this was, no matter how gently it was delivered, a command, and Velius must have been aware that she could not stay with him. In addition to this realization, Evelyn had the feeling he was purposely holding back information, but she did not prod him about it as she was, again, in no position to.

“As you wish.” Right before she parted, she added, “Please remain in the city.”

It wasn’t so much an order as it was wishful thinking. Velius would be safe as long as he was in the city, where watchful, curious eyes would discourage anything pretentious; it had been that very fact that had protected him from Rasheik.

ҨҨҨ

She found Abel hanging around a wagon. It wasn’t blue, but it was parked close enough to the blue wagons for her to identify it as one of those that had been rolling with them all along. Stepping closer, she made out a lady at the wagon’s doorway to who he was in the middle of giving an explanation. Evelyn blinked. Atop the lady’s head and around her shoulders were tresses of florescent green, though they could hardly be called an eyesore. She couldn’t tell whether her hair was natural or not; she never believed there would be people who would dye their hair that shade though.

She started to wonder what business Rasheik would have had in sending Abel to see this peculiar lady when she heard him mention something about special water. He was asking for some help with it too. Oh goody. If the lady wasn’t willing to help, it appeared Velius would, even if indirectly. Through Evelyn. But boy, if only he didn’t send her. There must have been a decade between Abel and her and that wasn’t even the beginning of their differences.

Sidling beside Abel, she offered meekly, “...Erm...Could I accompany you? Perhaps I could be of service.” Would it a good idea to act as the weak one in the group? Maybe he would think her useless and turn her down. But then again, it should have made sense for a girl her age to be apprehensive, so maybe she would be invited to go with them on their quest out of sympathy. The range of outcomes was exasperating; there were many variables. She could act, but she wasn’t usually the one deciding on her role. Had she already made her first mistake? If so, this wasn’t going to work. And then she would have to find a workaround.

└

[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

x
x
x

Their hands swung between them, back and forth, back and forth. The image was far too playful when connected to the bandit king's severe persona. With one finger, he gently stroked the boy's cheek before his attention was turned back to Beck, bitching and moaning behind them. Mature.

He paused one brief second and rocked back on his heel, successfully stomping on one of Beck's well polished boots. Oops. "My bad. Sorry!" he sounded so cheerful when he said it, that it was hard to believe he was actually apologetic. Especially since he did it a second time.

The child switched so that he was behind Rasheik, bouncing up and down a couple of times with his hands on the man's shoulder. "Piggy back?"

"Yes please," the child said, and Rasheik kneeled so that the boy could scramble on top of him. His hands locked beneath his bottom, and he jostled him a bit to get him up high enough so that he was safe and secure. The boy wrapped his arms around the bandit king's neck, resting his chin on top of his head. When the young girl approached and walked beside him, the boy tilted his head to look at her and waved, a broad grin on his face. Rasheik yoinked off his shoe and began to tickle the bottom of the boy's foot, he laughed, and you could see that he was missing a tooth near the back of his mouth. He couldn't have been any older than nine or ten. When the child settled, he leaned forward against Rasheik once more. In response to the girl's question, the child answered merely, "He kidnapped me." He didn't seem particularly upset about it.

"And why is that?" Rasheik coaxed.

"Because she's a true harpie, and what kid needs to grow up with that?"

"That's m'boy!" Rasheik tickled his foot again, and the boy threw back his head with laughter. They were nearing the caravan once more, and he looked about for any sign of Abel. How successful was the boy being with his mission?

Not at all, there he was, chatting away with a girl over by a wagon. He would be easily distracted now, wouldn't he? Rolling his eyes, he watched him, curious about what he was doing. Normally, he would have gone over and yelled at him, but right now, he was in a better mood.

For obvious reasons.

x
x
x

[Unais]

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX╠ Ҏᾀηɏῑɴ Ѥ
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX"I'm bad luck?"

Pity. He looks like he pities her. Which is odd, because she's not sure if she's done anything worth pitying as of late.

'I see. It must be tough.' Oh. He seems to think she's destitute. Either way, he lets her go and she lingers as the conversation continues. She feels the edge of her shirt and the fabric is awfully close to coming apart. Easily mistaken.

Ladies? Panyin blinks. Who...

He asks her for the price of travel and goes to make himself comfortable. Blink. "Ah... hah... me?" Oh. He seems to think she's one of the wayfarers of the caravan. She is hitching a ride, yes, but...

Asking her for a price to pay. "I... I really don't..." Know. Care. Want to deal with this. Blackmail and keeping tabs are not things she concerns herself with. Well, blackmail on a few rare occasions but this is not in her best interest. Or of really any interest.

Something lands by her foot, and she bends to pick it up, hearing him tell her it holds about twelve gold. She glances at him before slipping Rasheik's coins into the sack.

Her personal cache consists of perhaps four or five dozen gold made from sales over the years... disregarding uncounted silver, bronze, and other findings... She's really never had any place to sink her money. Ingredients from shops. Rents, bribes, tolls, guides. Sometimes food. Charity. Assorted glasses do the most damage to her earnings. Everything else feels frivolous. But she does need clothes that stop scratching her.

'--don't steal from your own crew.' She pauses, a slight raise of the brow before the funny hits her. She knows he thinks she's one of the caravaners but hearing it makes the idea terribly amusing. To think of this group as one that she is a part of. One that she should attend to. People who are a collective, cohesive group. How funny.

But no laugh. Merely a tug at the mouth before the face returns to that of the expressionless observer.

His misunderstanding causes her to wonder if he is just a tad bit naive. Her gaze slides to where the bouquet is nestled. Stealing is what she'd said it was but... it is stealing merely to her. Hardly would others think of pruning dead leaves as stealing.

"Perhaps I was just... picking flowers?" A murmur to self before she begins to depart, only to be stopped again momentarily.

The alchemist looks back from the entrance, pausing, lingering because she wishes to leave but is held for a moment longer. "...Panyin." She steps out and closes the door, leaving it unlocked.

What a waste of time. Getting that plant was perhaps, not so much of a waste, but one simple task is being drawn out for longer than it should take. Panyin steps back to look at the line of caravans and gets to the ones that are more habitable.

She opens the door to find an occupant and steps inside. The other bint. Right, the woman who had made herself known to a group of bandits just as they were preparing for the raid. That one.

"Rasheik sent me to treat your wounds." Panyin states, bringing up the bottle she used earlier. She checks inside. Two or three gulps left. More than enough but she tosses the bottle to the woman and leaves her with it.

Her task effectively finished, she begins to trek back. But for why. She pauses back at the sticky caravan, looking out into the passing crowds. Rasheik won't be in the same spot. She'll see him later. Eventually. She moves her hand, the weight and jingle of the coins reminding her that it is there, and that was a second task. Somewhat. Panyin moves back to the entrance of the caravan, where some sort of conversation is going on. There's a small child, an older boy, and that green woman who kept whispered about her during the trip. At least she helps somewhat fulfill the balance of normalcy in Panyin's life; the death threats this week are making up for not having any verbal threats upon her a few weeks previous.

"Excuse me." Panyin passes the tall boy, small girl, and ducks under the green woman's arm to squeeze back into the caravan. She packs away all the extraneous things attached to her person, preparing to throw the clothing away after it is replaced. It really will be such a shame not to have containers on hand. A chance may spring up like earlier. But she doesn't have another bag.

'--buy yourself something nice.' Maybe. For now, she pulls a bit of willowy cloth from her things and wraps a few select bottles in it, taking the package and the sack out with her. She ducks back under the woman's arm and walks a bit aways before having another thought and returning.

She comes to the tall boy's unoccupied side, not coming into the center of the group or crowding the small girl. "You were..." She's unsure of this. "With Ras..." An expression sparks on his face that makes her stop at that. "... earlier... Were you not?" She pauses and resumes her point. "I'm just wondering... I won't go looking for him now, but do you know where he is?"

The boy is bashful or hesitant for a moment before scanning the area and pointing him out. Oh. Panyin'd completely missed him. "Thank you." Panyin scurries away, not knowing if she'd return soon or not but having an inkling that she'd be seeing him again sometime.

Her approach is slowed at the sight of the small child. She doesn't know if she'd be interrupting. But at her nearing, Rasheik seems to approve of her presence and she steps a bit more forward. "Ah..." Her gaze strays to the child and she offers a brief smile. Sweet. Hopefully unalarming. "I've finished with the first task you'd given me... I..." Obviously, "Haven't gotten dressed, but... was there a second task you had in mind for me?" He had mentioned it in a perhaps manner.

___________________________________
¤ "Hardly."