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 Posted: Mon May 25, 2015 10:20 pm
Meanwhile poor Sherith remained on the ground, not disturbed even by the sound of conflict going on above her. If anyone had taken a moment to look, they would have noticed that she's still breathing, though her breaths are slow and shallow.
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Posted: Mon May 25, 2015 10:28 pm
She narrowed her eyes. The man spoke as though he was a foreigner, and she furrowed her brow, though she was sure to maintain eye contact. She couldn't help but notice the downed Immortal noble and felt a rush of pride.
"I don't know what any of that means," she said slowly, trying to keep herself calm and collected. "But you've got a tattoo, so I know you're part of the Immortals. If that's the pretentious name you people still call yourselves."
She examined the scarf, looking for any sign of the underground society. Winding it around her left hand after a few moments, she glared at him, her right hand rubbing the scar that ran from the right half of her forehead to her cheek. Revenge was so close she could nearly taste it.
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Posted: Mon May 25, 2015 10:59 pm
Veiris couldn't help when his head tilted in confusion. Immortals, he wondered. He'd been called many things, some good and some bad, but Immortal was never one on the list. Shifters had the same life span as an human, as far as he knew. Even the Shifters from the old legends didn't have abnormal lifespans. But his tattoos did mark him as guilty, no matter the term she decided to use.
He stepped back, wanting some distance between them so he'd have room to shift and wondering if it was worth it to try to retrieve his scarf. He stopped when his foot struck someone on the ground. He'd seen the well-dressed woman when he entered and had just assumed that she'd spent her wealth wisely on top-shelf ale.
He glanced down at her now. Her laying there gave him an idea, and he was suddenly glad for her apparent inability to hold her alcohol.
"Aren't you Cleric's meant to be healers above all else?" he asked, addressing the armed woman once more, "You're just going to leave an injured woman on the ground? Without even trying to offer aid?"
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Posted: Mon May 25, 2015 11:16 pm
Claudette's face twisted into a scowl, and furiously, she spat, "Spoken like a true undergrounder, always trying to force us to do your work for you. You're the ones who know magic, so why don't you heal her?"
He was using that word again, cleric, and not wanting to admit she had no idea what he was talking about, she swung her large ring-blade that was resting in a sheath on her back out in front of her body defensively. There was no doubt he was going to use some sort of magic, and she braced herself for impact. But that word bothered her. It was probably another idiotic term they had created for topsiders, and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction that she didn't know what he was talking about. It would just be another reason for them to call her stupid.
"It would probably suit her better if she went back underground, so why don't you take her with you? I don't know why you even come up here anyway."
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Posted: Mon May 25, 2015 11:26 pm
The woman on the floor twitches ever so slightly as Veiris steps back towards her, his foot lightly impacting her side. However, she doesn't rouse from her unconscious state. Not yet.
Ah, if only the man knew: Sherith had never had a drop of spirits in her life. They simply had never been made available to her. Though if he, or the woman, got close enough they'd notice that there was no smell of alcohol on her clothes or her breath. Nor, upon closer inspection, would it seem as though her current state is from an obvious wound, as there is no blood or bruising.
Either way, she looks very pale, and her braided, red hair makes her face seem even paler by contrast.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 9:22 am
Veiris raised an eyebrow at the woman, feeling more lost now than when he first entered this weird place that was still definitely not the Black Coral. His tactic had backfired, and the woman seemed more angry at the prospect of healing. He wanted to move further back, away from the blade, but the other woman was still on the floor behind him. His dagger would not be enough against that blade. Is she fast enough to slice before I can shift? he asked himself, wishing for more information.
He decided a new tactic was an order, having always been more of a speaker than a fighter. That was his sister's job. He moved to stand straight and raised his hands in the universal sign of innocence. At least, he hoped the woman saw it that way.
"I believe we may have jumped to some conclusions about each other that are quite false," he said wanting to resolve the tension. "I'm not one of these Immortals, and I've never lived underground. Well, there was a few weeks one winter, but I was a bear. It came with the territory," he watched her as he talked, waiting for her to realize he was being sincere. "And you are clearly no Cleric. Otherwise you'd know that a Shifter is the only magic-user who can't use healing spells," he continued.
He wanted to kneel down to check on the woman- more to make him appear like a good Samaritan than out of actual concern for her well-being. But he also didn't want to move with the woman still poised to attack. He couldn't bring himself to look away from the blade.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 4:39 pm
The fallen woman's pulse is actually quite rapid, and her expression, stamped the way it was at the time she fell, looks more distraught than the slack expression of someone who passes out from drunkenness. Her brow is creased with worry lines, though her face in general shows little signs of general wear. Up close, it seems unlikely that she even has twenty summers to her name; one would place her in her mid to late teens.
She stirs slightly, but doesn't open her eyes.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 6:49 pm
Claudette slowly lowered her weapon. He seemed to be just as lost as she was, so maybe she could trust him. If he proved otherwise, she would slice him to ribbons in a heartbeat. She stepped back from him.
"So, you do use magic," she said slowly, a twinge of jealousy spreading through her. "I hope you're not like the Immortals, but since I'm still alive, I believe you're right."
She sheathed her weapon, not taking her eyes off of him. She fished around in the bag attached to the sheath.
"For your tea I spilled," she said, handing him a few wooden coins. "I think that if I was wrong about you, I was probably wrong about her, too. I don't really know much about magic, but I do have some medicine left."
She knelt down next to the woman and squeezed a few drops of amber liquid into the woman's mouth.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 7:53 pm
Veiris bit back of sigh of relief as the woman sheathed her weapon. Shifting may be acceptable in Sol Tier, but shifting in public and getting in a fight would easily land him into more trouble than he wanted. Sol Tier was too valuable a city to lose to an impulsive warrior.
He accepted the two coins as a truce offering and little more. He wasn't sure what good wooden coins were, for he couldn't think of a single city he'd traveled through that used wooden coins for currency or barter. With a small shrug to himself, he slipped the coins into his own pouch. It could be dealt with later.
"Yes, I shift," he responded, deciding to use 'shift' instead of 'magic' as the woman seemed to react somewhat negatively towards the concept of a magic-user, "but I don't know anything about her." He'd play at being concerned and offering aid to make himself look innocent, but he didn't want to be associated with the woman if she did turn out to be one of these Immortals the woman hated so much.
He knelt down when the woman pulled a container of amber liquid from her bag. "What sort of medicine is that?" Veiris asked, his interest more genuine than his concern.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 8:32 pm
As the liquid hit her tongue, Sherith sputtered and coughed, though since she didn't spit it back up, one could assume that some of it made it down her throat. Coming to, she looked around herself and began trembling.
"Where am I? Who are you?" Both her tone and her face made it clear that she was not only confused, but distressed as well. Her eyes cast about for something familiar and came up with nothing. A little sob escaped from her lips.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 8:39 pm
"It's an herbal blend mixed with fireball whiskey," Claudette said, grinning. "If she's drunk, it'll make her vomit, and if she"s sick, she'll be well again."
Claudette picked herself up off of the floor and addressed the now awakened woman.
"I'll ask the questions, thank you. Who are you? What are you affiliated with?"
She found her hand at her blade once again, ready to strike in case the sob was merely a ruse.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 8:59 pm
"Sounds like good medicine," Veiris replied with a small smirk. He'd take whiskey over the horrid bark teas he grew up with.
He watched the woman on the floor sputter back to awareness and offered her a smile. "You're at the..." he started but paused, remembering he didn't know either. "You're in a tea house," he finally settled on by way of explanation. Before he could offer more, he saw the warrior stand and saw her hand drift back to her sword.
He looked up at her sharply, eyes widening briefly. "What are you doing?" he asked, seeing the trouble he'd just nearly avoided coming back in his direction.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 9:16 pm
Her face reddened, and she removed her hand away from her blade. She crouched back on the floor and muttered something unintelligible, not making eye contact with anyone as she brought her knees up to her chest.
After a few moments, she composed herself, and looked back at the woman. She ran her hand through her pale, blonde hair, and folded her arms on her knees.
"My name is Claudette Francesca Wade. Um, this is a coffee house, I guess. I thought it was The Needy Magus, but this doesn't look like it at all."
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