What to do...what to do...
It wasn't an odd scenario. She was a lone woman traveling to the outskirts of the city Phendras. Certain individuals would take it upon themselves to accompany an existence such as her's, no matter how much she protested. Thankfully, it seemed a survivor of war had stepped forward and aided her in scaring off the ruffian.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. The older soldier shook his head.
"It should be thanking you miss."
"Oh?"
"Yer Kara Sitala right? The one who ended the war."
"I am, but I really didn't-"
He lifted his hand to stop her and shook his head.
"I'm not sure if you 'member me, but you saved my life during the Cirithian Siege."
He lifted his shirt to reveal a scar that covered the entierty of his lover chest and left side.
"Everyone else said I was done for, Just prayed for me and left me to my fate. It was so cold, and I whimpering for my mother."
He blushed at this, bashful at his past display of weakness.
"But then," he continued, "when my vision had all but faded, someone held my hand and told me 'I'm here, your mother's here.' I woke up a week later in the recovery ward, but I'll never forget the comfort you gave me, and how you saved my life."
Now Kara was blushing. Here in broad daylight and public transportation, was a man twenty years her senior professing his gratitude. She had helped so many, it was hard to keep track as people lived and died. But here was a living testament to her efforts.
"Please, you owe me nothing," She said embracing him. One living being to another. "I'm just glad you survived."
"If you're not busy later, would you like to come over to my place. I have someone who wants to meet you."
"Oh?"
"My wife and son, a former refugee and war orphan. They'd like to meet the hero who saved my life."
He was grinning ear to ear. And so was she.
___________________________________
The large skyship which looked somewhat like a giant gleaming silver stingray with a large metalic hump on its underside began its descend through the fluffy white clouds and soon the city of Phendras and the purple Obaaz River appeared far below them.
Kara was standing by the window bay taking in the sight. Her encounter with the man she had once saved, had replaced the frustration from the meetings she had just attended in Calys with a feeling of joy and accomplishment.
Another ship was further below them. It was a smaller vessel, dark blue, with a silvery figurehead and silver wings, and a green glass dome on its top. It was smoking and descending in an odd manner.
Twenty minutes later, the metalic stingray had docked on the top of the collossal building which was the Phendras skyship docks. A long metalic stairway extended from the platform below up to the ship. As Kara walked down the stairs, she saw the smoking ship docked on one of the other platforms. Large bronze canons was shooting water at the burning skyship, and a man with a blue beard was walking down the stairs from it.
Halfway between the docking platform and the arrival terminal, a large dome of copper and green glass, Kara ended up walking next to the man with the blue beard.
____________________________________________________________________
Characters: Bevis Mherone
You're standing by the bronze gate in the tall metal-spiked walls surrounding the Ives Estate in the east end of the Verdyntrent district. It is raining and it is dark. Sibilune the silvery moon is hidden behind a veil of black clouds, so the only light from above is the blue light from Aluen, the azure moon. But the street is also lit by the light from the magical orange spheres of light in the lampposts. The large three-story building which is the Ives Estate is a great black silhouette against the dark blue sky. A thunder strikes in the distance, and for a brief moment you get to see the features of the estate's facade: windows, gargoyles, balconies.
In the flash of the thunder, you catch a glimpse of a person with a pale white face in a long black jacket standing on one of the balconies.
A few days earlier...
You were sitting in your office going through some paperwork, when it knocked on your door. It was a pale-faced man with grey eyes, backcombed black hair and a thin black beard in a long black jacket befitting of a noble, black gloves, black boots and with a black cane with a silver handle.
"Mister Mherone, I presume." The man said, and you confirmed and invited the man to take a seat. Finally a wealthy client.
What followed was a strange tale: The man was named Ilidan Ives. He had recently inherited his father's fortune, and also some priceless possessions stoved away in a vault beneath the family estate, which his father had kept a secret. His father had written him a letter warning him about one of these possessions, a mirror with a beautiful carved black frame. Ilidan had been drawn to the mirror and despite his father's post mortem warning, he had found himself looking at himself in the mirror for a long time. It was as if he was looking much more handsome and vigorous in that mirror than when he looked at himself in a regular mirror. But then the face had begun not matching his expressions. He got scared and hid the mirror away, but about a week later, his curriosity got the best of him, and he used the mirror again. But this time the mirror didn't show anything. No reflection at all. That was the night, Ilidan Ives encountered his simulacrum. He thought it was a nightmare. He woke up in his room and couldn't move. A black figure was standing in the shadows of a corner of his room. He tossed the severed head of one of his business rivals to him and stepped into the light. Ilidan admitted he was stricken with fear and hid under his blankets. When he looked again, his simulacrum had disappeared.
"Here's the key to my house. I want you to find my simulacrum and destroy it. He might try to trick you into thinking that he is the real me. Don't be fooled. I will pay you 300 dret."
Of course, you managed to convince the man to raise the reward to 450 dret.
Now you were there. In front of the Ives Estate. There to slay an unnatural being not meant to exist at all. You unlocked the gate with the key Ilidan had given you and entered the estate's front yard.
Characters: Talya Nayth Doranis
"There's an abaia living in the Obaaz south of Phendras. It has killed three men in the last month alone. Venric, Phindrim, and Zald. And it has sunk two barges. The harbormaster has issued a reward of 300 dret to anyone who can bring him the abaia's head." The man with the silver eye said. "You look like the type who is fit for such a task. I could take you fishing for it maybe? For 50 dret."
You are sitting in the Boatman's Cask, a tavern and inn in the Caylan Isles district, Phendras' fishermen and sailors district, seven densely populated small isles in the purple Obaaz River. You don't know the man with the silver eye. He just came over to your table.
You have recently returned to your home city Phendras. You've been away for more than three years. Living by the blade. Honing your skills. Your latest job was as a caravan guard for the Demesha Trading Coster, guarding a caravan from Taladh Miras in Cirithia to Phendras. You've been in Phendras for some time and have already spent most of the dret you have earned drinking. You haven't visited your uncle Osis Nayth yet, and you're not sure if you really want to.
Characters: Preysh Kavaan
The gods are real!
You were face to face with him. Was it Amunak? You think it was Amunak - the chief deity of the Akhavari. He brought you back.
Is this real?
Everything feels so strange. Your body is gone. You only have your bones and the blue fire that burns within them. After looking at your hands for a bit, you move them up your face to feel if it is still there. Your face is gone too. There is only your skull. You remember faintly the man in the iron mask ordering his men to torch the village. The man in the iron mask. Your killer. The man who slaughtered your wife and your children. Your whole tribe.
Who is he?
He spoke in the Tradetongue with a weird accent you couldn't quite place. His voice was deep and menacing, reflecting his heartlessness. You try to conjure an image in your mind of what he looked like... He was large. Larger than most men. He wore metal plate armor, a metal mask and hooded black robes, and he wielded a gleaming green blade.
Was he even human?
If you want to find him, you have to first figure out where you are.
You look around. You're in some city. In an alley. But which city?
After I settle my mind of being transformed into some strange non-living being, I stand up right picking my bow to sling over my shoulder, and lift up my trusty Headsplitter, only to realize I have no sensation feelings in my hands. At first balancing Headsplitter was odd, so gave a few practising swings to familiarize myself with Headsplitter without the usual pressure sensation of holding Headsplitter.
This is going to take a bit to get used to...., as I give another swing.
Once I figured where I am, have a safe place to hold out, definitely need to practice notching the bow.
Looking upwards at the stormy night, to see if I can recognize any large structures sticking above the alley buildings
I begin moving towards the alley exit to carefully look out around the corner, to look for something to use to cover my head, and to see if I recognize any feature of this town or city.
Characters: Juna Kalaris
"I bet it is the Scalanza Coster or the Red Horse Coster!" Vara said with rage in her voice and painted on her face in a red color, enhanced by the shoulder long white hair framing it.
"They kept me in a room no larger than a closet! I couldn't even lie down and sleep, Juna! It was terrible!" Vara holds her hands up to her face and turns around quickly before she begins sobbing loudly.
You are in the private quarters of Vara Demesha at the house of the Demesha Trading Coster in the Raedanwald district of Phendras.
"I want them dead, Juna! DEAD!"
You see in the distance a huge building lit up against the night sky with magical lights with several skyships anchored on top of it as well as a great copper and green glass dome. A thunder cracks through the sky behind it. The clap of a lightning strike much closer to you immediatly accompanied by a flash lights up the street that the alley runs from. You see a couple of shops closed for the night, and a tavern with light in the green glass windows and music can be heard faintly coming from inside.
I cautious move towards the tavern, though keeping a watchful eye for anyone or the city guard, thinking to myself, Remember, this is a strange unknown city. Don't cause trouble, really don't want to deal with the city guard of an unknown city.
Looking up again at the stormy sky, speaking softly to myself, Amunak, where have you sent me?, even knowing I would not get an answer.
A beautiful ship...
Kara could admire the workmanship that went into the vessel, no matter how tarnished its metal or how scuffed its wood.
I wondered what happened to it...
She considered asking the bearded man to her side, but it wouldn't do to have a ambassador snooping around in someone else's misfortune. She couldn't really justify it, not like she could if someone was bleeding out in front of her.
She shook here head slightly, and let a small sigh escape.
Sometimes work as an ambassador was as restricting as it was troublesome.
Just as you have asked that, another lightning strikes nearby with a loud boom and accompanying flash.
A blind old man with milky white eyes in ragged drab olive robes crosses your path to the tavern. He is bald on the top but has scraggly white hair on the sides and back of his head and a scraggly white beard. His skin is covered in dirt. He holds up a tin cup. "Can you spare a few drets, samaer?"
Characters: Kara Sitala
You walk through the stone arch with several glowing blue spheres on the inside, which scans you as you walk through, into the copper and green glass dome.
Amir, your assistant, a young and slender Cerilian man with curly dark hair in the azure and silver attire denoting him as a Cerillian official of a lower rank (higher ranking officials such as yourself wear dark blue and azure) and an azure cloak with a golden Cerilian lionhead as cloak brooch, stands in the large hall waiting for you.
"Visaer. How was your trip?" He asks smilingly.
Amir, always a stickler for formalities..
How long had be with her, helping her with her schedule, paperwork, and taking over small intricacies that eased her workload to a survivable amount. They had grown to be close friends. He even brought her home-cooked meals from his wife on nights where she couldn't leave her office.
"Pleasant." She replied simply, also smiling. "But I am eager to return to my familiar surroundings. I trust everything is well?"
”Now that we have agreed on a fee, know that this matter will be handled with absolute discretion and professionalism. Your circumstances require the utmost care, and in order to provide as much, I will need several things to accomplish this task. Without meeting these minimum requirements you’re placing your life in danger. Initially we will assume your double is likely thinking the same thing about you, but appears to have something barring him from dealing with you directly, or it would have been your head he tossed at the foot of your bed instead of your rival’s. This isn’t to say he may be trying to improve the state of your life as seen by his world view, but we know this already won’t do as you will likely be chief suspect for any and all actions your double takes that violate the law here. I will need a list of all your known associates, enemies, allies, acquaintances and unhindered access to the estate.”
”Also, there may be a time when I need you to leave your estate. This notice will be brief, the duration undeterminable, and the location only known to me. Additionally, I may need access to the mirror, the suspected source of the malady. Your simulacrum is clearly not restricted to your estate but we cannot rule out that the simulacrum may still be able to find shelter through it.”
”Right, the first thing of import, my own safety. If the simulacrum is trying to simply scare Ives away from his estate, then I am just as good a target as his business rivals. Though it is unlikely that murdering a man would have been the first option to trying to scare Ives away. It may be safe to assume that the simulacrum knew exactly what Ives would do in response to such a display, and therefore will be expecting me to come to purge it from existence. So second thing of import, learn as much about the mirror and the two Ives men that currently have access to the estate. I will need to be ever cleverer than either of the two and set an inescapable trap if I am to correctly resolve this issue.”
Bevis crossed the front yard with a slow sauntering pace. Taking in what he could to draw probable conclusions about who the man Ives was. The yard was landscaped, immaculate but boring, which reflected the way Ives dressed meaning he was likely either unimaginative or extremely frustrated at his lack of freedom ”Probably deals more with contracts and/or bookmaking than marketing or direct sales. So not frustrated, but likely longing for days when he felt freer with all the natural energy of youth.”
The door to the estate glided open permitting Bevis to the entrance hall. ”What of your opinion?” Bevis wondered sliding the blade at his side from its sheath with his palm exposing only an inch of the Rinzin blade.
"Everything is more or less as when you left. There is a council meeting tomorrow evening regarding the most urgent matters in Phendras such as the rise of the Black Sickles and the trouble they are causing both in the outskirts, in the inner districts and in the whole Protectorate, the killings of both nobles, officials and figures of the underworld perpetrated by the mysterious Whirling Shadow, the matter of the trade embargo against Nerovar, and of course the situation in Odar. Both the Cynaadshar and Lord Azalan Merovin have requested to see you eye to eye before the meeting."
Amir escorts you to one of the cylindrical green glass and bronze elevators and soon you are walking through the ground level hall of the Phendras Skydock building.
"The green cab over there is ours." He says as you exit into the busy avenue in front of the Skydock building.
Pausing when the old man approaches begging, thinking to myself, The old man is not frightened of my appearance, looking closely at his eyes, Ah, the old man is blind.
I let out a sigh before responding politely, I am afraid I have no drets in my possession to give. I just arrived here, not sure how I got here or where I am. What is this city called?
You hear the familiar echoeing whisper of Rinzin inside your head: "First off, I'd advise against breaking the mirror, if that was your idea. We have no way of knowing what that might do. Who knows if the simulacrum can even be killed... We might need the mirror intact to banish the simulacrum from this world back to wherever it originates from. I'm thinking there's a reason why Ilidan's father didn't destroy the mirror in the first place. I'm thinking that perhaps his father might have been guilty of using the mirror to get rid of business rivals and deemed it too valuable to get rid off, but another posibilty might be that the soul of the person peering into the mirror is somehow bound to it, and that the person instead of the simulacrum will perish if the mirror is destroyed."
Magical green lamps lit up the entrance hall. There was a double stairway leading to the floors above. A huge taxidermized six-armed bear standing on its hindlegs stood on a platform between the two sets of stairs. A beautiful dark red carpet covered the floor from wall to wall.
"You hit your head or something? I believe amnesiac is the term that the physicians use. If that is what ails you, you might want to seek out a mindprober or something. Either way, you are in the Free City of Phendras, and I am Dhurnac. Welcome and may your stay be pleasant."
Politely replying, Guess I must have bumped my head really hard it seems. Thank you Dhurnac informing of where I am.
Think about the name of Phendras if I recall anything about the city and it's location.
Located in land along the purple Obaaz River, the city of Phendras is built around an ancient skyship wreckage of mysterious origin. A sentient sphere inside the wreck called the Phendric Sphere protects the city, primarily by guiding the Phendric Cynaad, paladins who are mentally connected to the mysterious entity. Phendras was once a part of Cerilia, but it declared itself a free city after the Fall of Oderon. It is ruled by a council of prominent and powerful figures such as wealthy nobles and merchants and the Cynaadshar (leader of the Phendric Cynaad). The land surrounding the city of Phendras is known as the Phendras Protectorate.
Now knowing where I currently, well the city that is, Why did Amunak bring me here so far away from Ker Kavaan?, as I wait for the old man to move off.
Seeing the tavern again, I slowly approach it as I still look for something to drape of my skull.
Dhurnac lingers. "Valikos' bar. The Winged Serpent. They might kick you out if you don't buy anything, but they probably won't notice. Either way, it's not an inn. They don't have rooms. If you're looking for a place to stay the night go to Alendro's Camp. It's only a few blocks from here, on Copperleaf Square. If I'm not there myself, which I probably will be, tell him Dhurnac sent you."
Dhurnac wanders off.
As you approach the tavern the music coming from inside gets louder, and you can also hear the blended voices of the place's clientel. Sounds like the spirits are high inside. Will you enter the establishment?
"Never done with work, eh?"
She makes her way to the awaiting car thinking over the information she has just been given
"How does my schedule look for tonight? Cynaadshar and Lord Azalan Merlin will get there meeting, but I'd rather they not here my stomach rumbling and think I'm being mistreated. How is your wife doing? I haven't seen in weeks, we must get dinner together sometime."
Bevis clenched his jaw, while eyeing the six armed mammel. He gave an impressed, whispered whistle. "Very nice," he purred.
Then just as quickly scoffed, 'I loathe taxidermy. Basest expression of the arts." Bevis cracked a sly smile, "I wasn't thinking of smashing the mirror; give me some credit. Let's focus on what we can do rather than what we can not. Since we cannot assume anything at this point, let's begin with theories."
Bevis spun on his heels and slowly began to pace and file the carpet row by row, looking for dark spots where the stubborn stains of blood would have landed had the former rivals head be carried through here. "Your theory that the the mirror and Iver are linked, is as good as any. If that is so, then Iver and the simulacrum could be linked as well. This would explain why the simulacrum did not kill its original, but it may also mean we have to find another way of ridding the copy, unless it being a copy doesn't mean the original would be destroyed. If the three are linked we will need to learn more of the late Iver Sr. and the mirror to perhaps understand the relationship."
Once satisified with the carpet Bevis began up the stairs to the left looking for clues such as recent scuff marks or stains that a left handed person might have made during his ascension.
Walking forward with fast and determined steps, as Aleyn cursed to himself as well wishing all the damnation upon the last scoundrel scum of pirates, whom happened to attack his ship and resulting in the aftermath.
Noticing the young woman walking nearby but deciding to ignore her for now, as the costs of repairs were taking most part of his thinking and desire to just let it out. One arm closing on his blue beard and smoothing it over as Aleyn eyes scanned over the place to see possible repair crews.
About to step into the tavern when I suddenly pause, Wait! I am dead! Well walking dead. I have no need for food and drink.
Looking into the tavern, Really no need to scare the folk and be the cause of trouble.
Stepping back away from the tavern door, Perhaps I take Dhurnac recommendation. Alendro's Camp sure be a quieter place to figure out what to do here in Phendras.
I smile to myself, not much of a smile to see on a bony skull, as I begin heading in a new direction towards Copperleaf Square. Ever keeping an eye out for people still roaming the streets on this stormy night.
"Moira is doing well, Visaer. She is doing a wonderful job with the little ones. I'm sure she would love if you joined us for dinnner tonight, if you would like?"
After seating themselves in the green two-wheeled carriage, the doors closed in front of them, and the driver who sat on the raised driver's seat at the back of the carriage, a man in a dark green jacket and hat matching the color of his carriage, gave the horse some slack on the reins and clicked his tongue, and the strong brown horse began to move, pulling the cab down the avenue, its big black wheels turning round and round.
"Good thinking Mherone. Ilidan spoke of a vault beneath the estate, where the mirror and other of his father's possessions are being kept. I suggest we either start looking there or in Ives Sr.'s office. I believe Ilidan said it was on the third floor. I am sure that I will be able to hurt the simulacrum due to my magical properties, and I suggest you keep me in hand, as it is probably somewhere around the house, and it will most likely fight to the death for its existence. Hmm.. Perhaps... No, nevermind. Look, there's one of Ives' machinemen. The command word was 'Whisk-Whask'"
A mechanical man walks into the hall from a side corridor, its large yellow eye locked on you. "Command word?" it demands.
Characters: Juna Kalaris
"I bet it is the Scalanza Coster or the Red Horse Coster!" Vara said with rage in her voice and painted on her face in a red color, enhanced by the shoulder long white hair framing it.
"They kept me in a room no larger than a closet! I couldn't even lie down and sleep, Juna! It was terrible!" Vara holds her hands up to her face and turns around quickly before she begins sobbing loudly.
You are in the private quarters of Vara Demesha at the house of the Demesha Trading Coster in the Raedanwald district of Phendras.
"I want them dead, Juna! DEAD!"
At attention in clothes still bearing the stains and stresses of weeks seeking every dark crevasse and hidden place seeking her charge Juna listened. As her princess's rant turned to tears and she held herself back for a moment to quell the shaking rage in her own form. The taller and war-bred female then stepping to her sobbing charge and offering a hug. She will not listen to reason at the moment. I can't tell her the impossibility of the tasks she sets me. Only vow to achieve it and hope Deisha Tara guides my path. I will make it happen though. As the blade queen my witness I will find them and discover the depths of this conspiracy. Too many coincidences for it to have been a small cell.
" Highbor- Vara. I am never going to be free of the stain on my honor of permitting this to occur in the first place but know that until the forces who conspired to trap you are caught I will find no rest." The warrior admits bleakly as she glances out the window to the bustling city below."I do not know how but I will find those brigands and bring them to heel. So that they might understand the enormity of the mistake they made in laying hands on you. To stand testament for all who would attempt such an act in future."
The warrior vows, looking Vara in the eyes as she does.
"but for now we must regain our center, find balance and only then strike. To attack while unfocused will only result in failure. It is as true in politics and intrigue as it is in combat."
Characters: Aleyn Soath
You barely made it. Few other pilots would have been able to fly, much less land, a ship in such a condition as what Vynchalassar was currently in. The repairs were going to be costly this time. Half of the dret from the meager last haul would all go to crew and for the docking space, and the rest wouldn't be enough to get the ship properly repaired. You are going to need more dret.
Some Skydock personel meets you in front of the copper and green glass dome.
"Is that your ship? What happened?"
Vara Demesha is comforted by the hug and stops sobbing. She listens to what you have to say, nods, and then she takes a seat in the carved black chair behind the matching desk and activates the scrivener device, a bronze box with an attached inkwell and black-feathered quill, which writes whatever the owner tells it to write and makes as many copies as is requested.
"Scrivener activate. Scrivener font type 14. Scrivener write: I, Vara Demesha, High Mercantor of the Phendrasian Branch of the Demesha Trading Coster, hereby invite any Sellsword, Private Investigator, Bounty Hunter, or other capable Vardeen seeking to earn an honest Profit, to attend a Meeting at the House of the Demesha Trading Coster, Ebendrocia Row 6, Raedanwald, on Noon of Abalday, Yarnaath 6th. Stop. Scrivener make fifty copies." The scrivener device makes a stack of papers with Vara's message written in a beautiful but easily readable black font. "Scrivener deactivate."
"Juna. Take these and put them up around Phendras, on noticeboards and in taverns and inns."
You make your way to Alendro's Camp on Copperleaf Square. The tent camp is lit by several campfires and surrounded by Copperleaf trees and is full of people in ragged clothes, some of them cripples and mutants, and not all of them humans.
People begin to whisper and give you strange looks as you walk into camp. A man in brown hooded robes with a shaved face approaches you.
"Greetings Samaer. I am Alendro. Who might you be?"
Walking slowly into the camp I observe the people whispering as they look at me.
Guess not many of the likes of me come here, before giving myself a silent laugh.
As the brown hooded man approaches me, I slow down to a stand and once he spoke I reply politely, I go by the name of Preysh. During the storm I arrived here in Phendras. I came across an old man by the name of Dhurnac, who mentioned to me of this camp. What is this camp, may I be so bold to ask? Seems filled with many strange folk.
"Arh, Dhurnac told you about us. I see. Well, this is a camp for the city's unfortunate and homeless. I am Alendros, priest of Selentris, the Caring Lady. Might I inquire as to what you are, Samaer Preysh. I haven't seen one such as you before."
~The Demesha Trading Coster~
Juna nods picking up the stack of freshly inked papers and turns to leave the room "A clever ploy then. I will deliver these quickly as I assume you've arrangements to make. So our prey does not know it is them we hunt. Shall I bear my glaive to draw more attention to the invitation?" The warrior states neutrally as she waits for a response before beginning to move.
As implying she didn't think of something would only irk her, better to let her say she was already planning to than insult in her state today.
Well,[b ]pausing briefly, [b]to be honest. I really have no idea what I am now, besides being dead very recently. I have no idea what I currently look like other than seeing what sticks out of this armour, while moving my free hand about in the air, rotating it to show more.
Not sure who these people are, thinking, Think it is best not to mention Amunak brought me here from the dead to avenge the loss of my tribe.
If I may ask, there there a quiet spot for me to have time to ponder on what to do with my new life, this new form. I have no drets to give in form of payment. Oh, have a mirror I can make use of so I can see really what I look like. It would put to rest that annoying curiosity I been having since I had my sight restored.
Kara nodded.
"It'd be nice to have some pleasant company during a meal, though you must promise me, none of this Visaer business while we dine. I'd rather eat with my two friends Amir and Moira, rather than my assistant and his wife."
She paused to let out an unlady-like yawn. Traveling was tiring as always.
"What's next in my schedule?"
"I don't care." She motions for you to leave.
"Oh, one more thing before you leave, Juna." Vara opens a drawer in the desk then gets up and walks over to you, gracefully in her exquisite red dress, and hands you a pouch of drets.
"Here's 150 drets. Find me a Mindprober, but one who is not from the Valamyrian Wizard's Enclave. Pay them the drets just to come see me today, and tell them that I will pay them more for the probing."
Alendros nods. "I see. *Ahem* Well, I should probably prepare you then. Your skull is showing. Like, all of your skull. Your face is a dark grey, almost black, skull and you burn with an unnatural blue fire. I have no idea how you ended up in your current state, but I suggest you cover yourself up so as not to frighten anyone. The tent over there is empty. You can use that. I will bring you a mirror."
Shortly after you have entered the tent, Alendros comes and hands you a mirror. "I think it's best if I gave you some privacy. *Ahem.* If you need anything, you know where to find me. Oh, and here. Take this as well." He hands you a dark blue scarf. "To cover your face."
~The Demesha Trading Coster~
One hand takes the pouch and slips it into a safe spot. Juna then gives a light bow to the younger woman, careful not to upset the papers in her arms. "As you command, it shall be done."
The warrior walking out of the room, casting a glance to her glaive as she passes it. Few know of what has occurred, to bear such a weapon about will attract attention. I shall hope it is the right kind. The woman taking a moment to place down her papers and don the blade before leaving out into the bright day.
"Of course Visair.. *Ahem* Kara." Amir says with a hearty smile, obviously appreciating the fact that you consider him and his wife to be friends.
"Well, you have nothing on your schedule for today. The cab is taking us to the Embassy, but perhaps you would rather be taken straight to my house, or something else entirely? We still have a couple of hours before dinner time. Perhaps you would like a walk in the Thrune Park? I know you like it so much there. Or stop by the Temple of Selentris? Or maybe a bathhouse?"
"Aye, I tell what it was. A damn bloody pirates that be it. Damn buggers tried to rob ma ship, ma cargo, kill me and ma men! And I do not take non of that bloody begging, but rather kicked the men out of my ship, down all the way to land, thats what I did!" Aleyn seethes with rage but tries to keep his calm
"Nao what those buggers next did was shoot ma ship, but as ya can all see, still here, all livin' and well but those scounders for sure wer' not so lucky. Nao ma beauty there be all dirty, damaged and down right sullied." rumbling on and on as his fingers tap on his falcata
"I bet that you thiefs also will be charging a small fortune to get it repaired but that be the game which I need to play. So, most likely the hull be damaged somewhat, some quarters need to be repaired and most likely there will be need for some special repairs too, just to make things mor' fun for me and you. How much ya charging then" gruffing the last words out of his mouth as Aleyn eyes the speaker, assuming him to be the leader of the lot
You exit the Demesha Trading Coster House to Ebendrocia Row in the Raedanwald district, and go to the nearest bar, "The Hovering Stone", a bar in a large dome of greenglass, built around a hovering boulder.
A Maraak in white and brown robes stands behind the bar.
"I see." the green-eyed man in brown and blue uniform says. "You should file a report at the Council Basilica. The Council will want to know that there are pirates in Protectorate airspace."
He goes over the prices of repairing the ship for you, and you realize that you will need to get a lot of trets if you want to have the ship properly repaired. For now, you pay for docking space for a week.
~Upon A Rough Landing~
Sighing at the amount of trets needed for the repairs and sighing more as he payed for the docking space, Aleyn moves back to his own crew and pays their wager so far as well inform about the one week docking "Now you sorry lot got some free-time. Do not get drunk, get in trouble or cause headache for me or you wont be havin' a headache next time. Nao off you go, but remember, always two of ya lot here to watch out for the ship or I wont be so all-smily face" buffing out his orders as he watches his own crew soon disappearing
Turning around and beginning his own way towards city, as Aleyn stops at midway to ask one of the local guards "Ay, mister guard, could ya spare a bit of yar time and tell me, wher' I could find this so called Council Basilica. Got some reports to make and would be much easier and time saving for me to get there faster" Aleyn motions as he watches around, not really feeling at home on ground
Taking the mirror, though keeping it turned downwards, Thank you Alendros. I will return this to you once I am done.
Taking hold the dark blue scarf, while waiting for Alendros to leave closing the tent behind him, How bad must I be appearing.
Taking a seat on a nearby crate, my hand holding the mirror quivering, at the anxiety of seeing my transform appearance. Slowly lifting the mirror upwards, revealing firstly my armoured chest with an occasional small bluish white vapour appearing through, then the exposed neck.
Gasping at the sight of seeing the spinal vertebrae of the neck embedded in flowing bluish white vapour. Resisting the temptation to putting done the mirror, I brace myself for the shock of seeing my skull.
As I see my face fully in the mirror, I gasp before speaking, Amunak! What have you done to me? You removed my flesh, leaving me only my bones held together by my spirit? Why! What is the purpose of transforming me so in order to avenge the killers of my tribe and family. ...
After some time passed, I calming place the mirror onto the crate, and my weapons onto the crate. Standing up, I begin removing my armour, Just as well see entirely what I have left for a body.
Once the entire armour has been removed, I pick up the mirror once more holding it out in front of me, I study my body, noting the dark grey skeleton embedded within the flowing bluish white energy of my spirit. Remaining silent for a long time while simply watching the energy flowing around and through the bones.
Eventually satisfied my curiosity of my new body, I place the mirror down, and begin adding the armour to my body. Once done, I pick up the dark blue scarf, holding it for a while, before beginning to wrap it around my head in such a way that only a narrow slit exists for my eyes. Using the mirror to ensure my head is well wrapped up.
Seeing the bow, I pick t up and take out an arrow and practice notching it on the string, while keeping the bow facing towards the ground. Pulling the arrow slowly and repeating the pull until finally have the bow fully pulled. Once satisfied with the grip of bow and arrow pulled, I slowly release the tension without firing the arrow.
Picking up Headsplitter and the mirror, I head out of the tent to locate Alendros.
Once finding the helpful man, I hand back the mirror, Thank you for the loan of your mirror. As payment for the scarf and use of tent while I reside here, I am willing to take up night watch, considering I no longer reliant on food, drink and sleep.
"The bathhouse would be a wonderful idea Amir. Its not often I get time to relax for an extended period, and I do feel that it would help take the strain out after traveling so long."
It wasn't often that Kara used her diplomatic privileges, but she did treat herself to a few luxuries every now and then. The bathhouse in the city was exquisite. A sauna to sweat her stress away, expert massages from experienced masseurs. Although, there was that one pesky beautician who kept applying the highest quality lotion to her when she wasn't looking. As the embassy covered the cost as a business expense, they were a bit too eager to pamper her. No, a simple steam and rub would do fine.
"Just drop me off at the bathhouse and I'll make my way to your place in an hour or two. I'd invite you to join me, but it wouldn't do to make Moira jealous, would it?"
Kara smiled. She had seen Amir at the short end of a marital dispute before, and while no physical harm was done to either of them, he had never looked so amusing with trousers that were still wet and a suit that had a large stain on the backside.
Moira would not be pleased to find her husband had not invited her to a trip to the bathhouse.
Bevis trades Rinzin to his dueling arm, though still leaves the blade only slightly drawn as a precaution. "Whisk-whask" Bevis submits to the silver and bronze alloyed machine. With no incident, Bevis continues to explore the house as to better learn who Ives is on the way to the 3rd floor office.
"Perhaps my luck will be so fortunate that it could be so simple. A thorough process of vetting a convincing double is hardly that difficult, but a potentially exact copy? There is no way to know immediately how they differ. I'm hoping it is something as simple as the two favor opposite hands."
"The vault will be the next stop after the office."
You approach one of the guards standing by the stone arch with several glowing blue spheres on the inside, which acts as an entrance to the great copper and green glass dome which is the arrival and departure terminal of the Phendras Skydock.
The guard is a human wearing a blue and black uniform as well as metal plates protecting vital areas and a metal helmet with a metal viser covering all of his face except for the eyes. He has a sword and a shock baton in his belt.
"The Council Basilica is the huge blue building in the north end of the Verdyntrent District. You can't miss it."
As you move through the stone arch, a blue beam scans you, and the blue spheres glow yellow and a metalic voice emanates from the arch saying: "Unregistered male human."
"This way, Samaer, please. You need to be registered before you can enter the city." A guard on the other side of the arch says. You are not alarmed. This is pretty standard procedure.
You are escorted to a large room where a young male human scribe with curly blond hair in blue and brown outfit sits behind a table.
"Please take a seat, Samaer."
Once you are seated he dips his quill in the inkwell and puts it to the formular in front of him. "Please state your name, age, race, nationality and occupation."
Alendros smiles. "Thank you Samaer Preysh, but the people here don't really need protection. They own nothing of value, you see. Are you sure you do not need rest? You seem to have a mind, and every mind needs rest or it will go mad."
"As you wish Visaer, and no, I think I'd better get home. Moira will appreciate knowing in advance that we'll be an extra person for dinner."
You are dropped up in front of the bathhouse, a large stone building with three green glass domes on the roof.
A beautiful woman in her mid-thirties with long raven-black hair in white robes welcome you in the entry hall. You recognize her as Vizana, one of the bathhouse hostesses.
"Ahh, Visaer Sitala. The usual I presume?"