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 Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 8:13 pm
Tkal sighed, running towards the walls of Avandere at full speed under the light of the stars. He didn't like coming to the city, but sometimes it was simply unavoidable. One of his swords was chipped, and the best place to replace it was in the Red Circle. He ran up the wall as far as his speed and gravity would allow, then sent gusts of air shooting from his feet to get him the rest of the way up the wall. Grabbing the edge, the small halfing swung himself over it and let himself drop into the Red Circle on the other side.
He could've waited until morning and entered normally, but he didn't like waiting. And it would've been very unfun. He sent another gust from his feet to slow himself and ease his landing, his brown cloak fluttering around him as he walked casually into the network of alleys. He kept his hood up, not wanting to attract too much attention with his presence. Tkal had lived here for several years, after all. No need to rekindle old rivalries.
Tkal sighed as he watched shadowy figures moving around just outside the lamplight. "Not much has changed, ne...? How unfun," he mused to himself. They were probably trying to determine if he had enough money to be worth mugging. Well, that wasn't too important. They hadn't been able to beat him when he'd been among them; he doubted they could now.
"Weapon shop, weapon shop," he hummed under his breath, searching for one that was still open. One of them had to be, right?
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Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 9:11 pm
Altais stood with his back against the wall, leanly-muscled arms crossed over his chest. His tongue idly ran over on of his fangs, pondering the stars in the sky. He really needed to find a Mark to form a Contract with soon, otherwise he'd have to go around killing for the next three days to make up for lost time. The Demon ran a slender hand through his black hair, the Serpent tattoo behind his right ear briefly exposed to the cool night's breeze. He was watching the shop for one of the Cobras -- a commander in the Guild -- this night, as the man's family had been targeted by a thieves guild two nights past. And of course, the Serpents always looked out for one another, even the Guild master himself.
The Demon wished, though, that he could take the Sky Adder out tonight -- the airstreams were powerful, and there was a storm rolling in. Ah, he did indeed miss sailing the skies for weeks on end, with no destination in mind and no worries save those of freedom. A small smile lifted his full lips as he heard a voice mumbling about a weapon shop. "Ah, right here, Little Lord. We've the finest display in all of Avandere, and we do repairs as well, though they take twelve hours to be completed, especially as the Smithy's gone out drinking this evening." His voice was low, lilting, almost melodic in its cadence. "Might I interest you in any wares?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 9:33 pm
Tkal turned, smiling brightly at the one who addressed him. "I'm going to assume so," he replied. "The fact that you do repairs is even better." The halfling all but hopped over to the much taller man, coming to a complete stop a foot or so away. He untied the hilt at his waist, slowly drawing one of the twin swords from it. "The left one is fine, but the right blade has a nasty crack in it. If I can get it repaired instead of buying a new set, I'd appreciate it." He peered out at the man from underneath his hood, medium brown eyes fixing on the blindfold. "... I haven't seen you around before." He was definitely a new face--and hopefully someone interesting. There was nothing better than finding interesting people around the city, which, in itself, Tkal found extremely boring.
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Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 9:54 pm
"No, i should think not." A smile curved the Demon's lips. He always stayed behind the scenes in Avandere, letting the other Serpents manage the streets while he took care of the larger issues. He took the blade from the halfling, running a forefinger along its edge. The blade bit deep; halfway to the bone, which made the man nod. "Still sharp." He placed the digit in his mouth, allowing the blood to saturate his tongue. He licked length-wise along the abrasion, and the bleeding ceased immediately, though Altais fought down a shiver. At tasting the hot iron, his vision pulsed, and the monochromatic world gained a line of red along the halfling's blade where his blood remained. With practiced ease, he whipped a cloth from the stand and cleaned the iron before setting it on the stall's counter. "Fair enough. I'm sure we can manage the repair itself in about three candlemarks. Though, again, the Smithy won't be back 'til morning, and I was never one for working the bellows."
The Demon chuckled, as it was obvious with his leanly-muscled figure he couldn't work it for more than an hour at most. If he were a human, at any rate. He himself could fix the cracked blade in about three minutes, but that wasn't something he shared unless he was Contracted to someone. "Same with yourself. I've not seen you around the Red Circle before, Little Lord. Where is it you hail from?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 10:07 pm
The halfing allowed him to take the sword, though he fidgeted until it was back in his hands. "Hnn... how unfun," Tkal complained. "City life and I don't like each other much... Guess it can't be helped though." At the man's question, he simply shrugged. "Somewhere below." He smiled. "Forgot the name. I was here in the Red for a little while too. But this place is a little too unfun for me, so I left. It hasn't changed much, really..." He glanced up at the taller man. "What about you, Mister? Where'd you come from?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 10:33 pm
"Ah, now that's quite a long tale. To keep it short, I grew up in Corsairh before I bought myself an airship and sailed the skies for several years. Traveled all over the Lands Below before finally coming up here about six years past." The Demon lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug, idly fingering one of the tails of his silk blindfold. "Not much to say other than that, really. Now I mostly concentrate on business." He studied the halfling carefully. His Soul shone rather brightly, but he didn't see enough ambition or need for revenge to wonder about making a Contract. Sighing to himself, Altais habitually ensured that the knot on his blindfold was tight enough to keep it from slipping. Was there anyone in this damned town worth Calling to?
He snorted to himself. Well. Besides people who were hooked on drugs, drunkards, or idiots who had god-complexes. He returned his attention to Tkal once again, holding out his hand. "Altais, at your service, Sir." Now, it was in folktales the world 'round; never shake hands with a Demon unless wearing gloves. While most scoffed at the silly notion, it was entirely true. Demons could make a quick connection with people through skin-to-skin contact, thus making them better able to succeed in Contracting with the person in the future, if the need ever arose. Well, perhaps this one might blossom in a year or two and be worth the pain in the a** of being a slave for five or six years.
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Posted: Sat Sep 15, 2012 10:46 pm
"Corsairh... I think I might've been there before." Tkal's face lit up when he spoke of traveling in an airship. "How interesting. That sounds like a fun way to travel." He, of course, didn't have the money to afford such transport, and was forced to wander the old-fashioned way. It had its perks, like being more likely to find interesting people, but he remembered the thrill he'd had when he'd stowed away on one to come to this floating island.
He tilted his head and stared curiously at the man as he snorted, apparently amused by something. The halfing inspected the offered hand before tentatively grasping it. One couldn't be too careful in the Red Circle, after all. "Tkal."
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 1:53 am
Altais clasped the halfling's hand and a jolt was sent through the man from the Demon's fingers into his own. Altais' consciousness traveled up through Tkal's arm and into his very being, searching for something there. Finding nothing, the Demon returned through the contact of skin against skin as if nothing had happened. All had taken place within the space of a single heartbeat, and aside from perhaps slight disorientation, the halfling was none the wiser.
"Pleasure to meet you, Tkal. You say you've been to Corsairh before? I'm sure you'd remember, as it's truly Hell on this earth." He lifted a bare shoulder in a shrug. "It's a place filled with anything and everything rank, disgusting, and demented that you can imagine." A low chuckle fell from his lips. "Yes, I'm sure you would remember it."
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 2:08 am
Tkal's skin crawled and the instant the man released his arm, it disappeared into his cloak. Responding to his mild but abrupt disorientation, his entire posture changed into something less casual. He had no idea what had caused the change, but he reacted nonetheless. He nodded slowly to the description of Corsairh. "I've seen a lot of hells on earth," he replied flatly. "I don't remember most of their names. Since it sounds familiar, I was probably there more than once." Brought there by his "owners," of course. Fighting for his life against men three times his size for the entertainment of those--as Altais had put it--"rank, disgusting, and demented" men. Just the thought of it made his fingers twitch, his blood boil, and the slave brand on his shoulder ache. He closed his eyes, willing the thoughts back into the dark corner where they were kept. His ever-present smile widening again, he inquired, "If you aren't a blacksmith... what do you do?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 2:56 am
Ah, what an interesting question. What did he do? What should he reply with? That he was a Demon? Perhaps that he was out seeking for a Mark, so he could be just about a slave to them for a year or three in exchange for their soul? No, no. The halfling would probably scream and head for the hills. Ah, this then. "Ah, I sail the skies, my friend. I've a glorious ship, the Sky Adder, waiting for me at the docks. I had to dock here to see to some business within my guild and to watch the stall here for a friend, but I plan to be back in the air tomorrow or the following day."
Yes, that should do it. And while he generally told people that he was the Guildmaster of the Serpents, since technically it wasn't a crime to run it -- as no one had proved that they had ever assassinated anyone -- a lot of them got scared and clammed up. And while scaring people to the marrow of their bones was definitely a hobby, it was a nice night out and he had told himself earlier that he'd take it easy this evening. "And yourself, Tkal? What sort of business are you involved in, friend?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 3:09 am
"Ara, must be nice. The sky's a wonderful place. Almost makes me wish I had wings." He grinned. "I'd probably be light enough," he joked lightly. The grin shrinking back into a casual smile, he thought about Altais's question. "What I do, ne...? I am in the business of staying alive." The halfling shrugged. "By definition, I am technically a masterless, wandering swordsman. Which, by stereotype, is apparently a rogue who taught himself swordplay." And a pretty accurate description of how he became one, actually. "So... what's this guild you're with?" His voice dropped a bit as he continued. "I'm going to assume it has something to do with bashing skulls into bricks and slitting throats." After all, the man was "watching over" a stall in the Red Circle at night.
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 3:37 am
"Ah, cut right to the heart of the matter, don't you?" The Demon grinned at Tkal and leaned back against the wall, idly running his tongue over a fang. "I'm not really with them, I'm actually the Guildmaster. I'm sure you've heard of the Black Serpents in your travels, then." Altais watched the halfling's face go from curiosity to surprise. The assassin nodded and sketched a mocking bow.
"Altais Malbain, at your service, Little Lord. I must admit, business has been flourishing what with all the excitement out there. 'Bandits' popping up, this whole deal with the Six. Guy wants his rival offed, a girlfriend's jilted lover wants the girl's nan to kick the bucket," He laughed, a high, lilting sound. "Some of these people crack me up with their petty squabbles."
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Posted: Sun Sep 16, 2012 3:56 am
"Only when I want to. If you really want me to speak in that overly flowery way that the nobles enjoy so much, I can do so." As the assassin spoke, he instinctively fiddled with a piece of wood he'd drawn from his pocket. After a minute he pulled out his whittling knife and shaved away bits of the block. "Sounds like an interesting time if you're in the business. Almost makes me want to try my hand at it." Almost. The cage matches of his childhood had made their mark on him.
When he heard someone call "East" from down the street, he turned enough to see a scowling man with an eyepatch storming towards them. "Ah... I've been spotted. And I didn't even lower my hood either..." He sighed as he pulled off his boots and set them by the stall along with his unbroken sword. "I don't like fighting without my swords... it's so unfun." He pushed the hood back, pulled out his hair tie, and shook his head, his long teal hair wild in its freedom. He set the hair tie on the hilt of his sword and turned again. "But I guess things can't be helped. Hn... it's been eleven years... I wonder if they're more interesting now?" There was one man storming up, but he was sure his friends were about as well. That's when things would get a little more interesting. It was a lot like a cage match, but even that was better than being completely bored. "How many do you think will show up?" he asked Altais, brown eyes dancing as if he knew something no one else did.
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Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2012 5:48 pm
The Demon eyed the man storming toward the halfling with amusement. A petty thug, no doubt seeking revenge for a wrong made years ago. At Tkal's question, Altais arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps five or six. Generally, no more than ten wander the Red at night, but always more than three." He lifted a bare shoulder in an elegant shrug. "If you need assistance, don't hesitate to ask, but I'd rather not dirty my blades needlessly."
Besides, once he began fighting, the bloodlust would sing to him, and he'd end up killing to take souls. And when that happened, he might turn on the little halfling, which wouldn't be so bad, really, aside from the fact that he didn't want the Guard showing up later, trying to figure out the riddle of a Demon sucking souls from people. A small laugh fell from the Demon's lips, genuinely amused. No, unless Tkal was in true danger, he would simply watch. Mid-night brawls were fun and all, but he had a reputation to uphold. And the Guildmaster of the Serpents fighting petty thugs would not be a good thing.
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Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2012 8:17 pm
Tkal sighed. "Barely worth putting my bag down for..." But he did, taking off his cloak and draping it over the rest of his things. When Altais offered assistance, the halfing just stared at him. "Why would I do that? That would be even more unfun." With a much too happy grin and pleasant tone, he added, "If you interfered, I might try to break you too." He walked into the middle of the street barefoot, wearing a shirt and breeches that had been ripped and repaired so many times it almost looked like patchwork. The smile nearly shrank off of his face as he closed his eyes, exhaling as his opponents approached.
In his mind, he could see it: the door to his little metal cage lifting, a makeshift ring with his enemies waiting to rip him to bits. There was that little inkling that told him to stay in the cage, to avoid the danger. But Tkal had been trained to ignore it. As the phantom sound of metal clanging filled his ears, he opened his eyes.
Ignoring the original man, he launched himself backwards, grabbing the arm of the man who'd been charging at him from behind. Using the man's own momentum, he threw him over his shoulder. He jumped onto the man's back and pulled his arm behind him. The thug howled in pain as he landed, his arm bones breaking from the impact. Immobilized, his mind declared. Cannot fight. Move onto next target. Abandoning the man with the broken arm, he ducked underneath the next man's fist, taking that moment to count the number. Two he could see, four he couldn't, by the sound of the footsteps.
To any bystanders, it would look like the thugs were being thoroughly beaten by a child raised by wolves. He didn't have any rules to his style of fighting: he'd swing from their arms, bite them, pull their hair, anything that would give him the advantage. His hair whipped behind him like a mane as he whirled about his opponents like a hurricane. He didn't dish out any lethal damage; however, the only one that remained unscathed was the one who ran away. The worst injuries were dealt to the original man, the one-eyed vengeance-seeker. The man was on the ground, gasping for air the best he could with his broken ribs, one arm bent at an unnatural angle. The others were nursing broken arms and legs. Only when the street was filled solely with the sound of defeated groans, did Tkal stop and close his eyes again, visualizing that cage's gate closing back up.
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