[04:27:45] Crow stood at the firepit. His eyes drifted to the candidate. There was something in his gaze that was already a warning. “Some candidates remember me very well … by the blisters upon their hands. Their obsession with fire. He would put some logs into place and lit up the fireplace. “You failed to do as you were told. That …” he held pause. “That will be met with consequences.”
[04:32:40] Dust had only just woken after a lengthy night collecting people’s belongings from the boat and moving almost every bit of furniture around someone’s house 4 times before they were happy with the arrangement. He had slept in the Inn for maybe 5 hours before he had remembered about the fire and was about to sort it…. but then Crow was already there. He made no excuse. No defiance. He just stood. “I will take whatever punishment you have Sir.”
[05:08:58] Crow had the habit to find that one small moment of being late, not tending to the fire. Even his own son had taken it heavy for everytime he had forgot or was too late for adding a log. He would approach slow. As if there was no real sense of direction. It was like this snake, slithering with no real threat in mind and yet at the very moment in which he perhaps became uncomfortable close, his fist seemed to have come out of no where with the intent to strike the man hard across the jaw. If he was able to hit him (below 33 = failed between 34 = 66 = hit but will stand 67 to 100 = hard ) it would hopefully bring his point across. “This is your warning … this fire is your life … you protect it … if it dies you might die too.”
[05:18:32] Dust had caught the movement a moment too late, The punch hit hard against his face and he took a step backwards. his instinct was to fight back. To defend himself. His right hand balled into a fist. Though that in itself was a shock to the wayfayer. He was used to seeing punches coming. Used to feet trying to slice his feet from below him. This… was something else. His fist came around towards the man without even a thought – forgetting for a moment that he was meant to be impressing the man. Right at the last moment it was like…. a touch rather than a fist. “Understood.” a simple word – a look that crossed the man’s face with the etch of a man that still had anger boiling inside.
[05:24:42] Crow barely moved after the fist stopped short of his face. His eyes remained fixed on Dust, taking in the clenched hand, the tension in his jaw, and the anger the candidate had not quite managed to bury. For several Ihn, he said nothing. Then he gave a small, humorless smile. “There. That was the moment I wanted to see.” He stepped back, allowing Dust room to settle himself rather than pressing the advantage. “Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You were struck, and every instinct you possess told you to strike back. You nearly did.” His gaze sharpened. “But you stopped. At the last moment, you remembered where you were and why you came here.”Crow tilted his head slightly. “Do not mistake me, Dust. I am not praising you for allowing yourself to be hit. Nor am I asking you to become a man who never fights back. There will be times when hesitation gets you killed, just as there will be times when a drawn fist ruins everything you have spent weeks building. The difference is whether you decide to strike, or whether your anger decides for you.”A faint, dry edge returned to his voice. “And for the record, if you intend to hit me, candidate, I would prefer you do it because you have made a decision not because you forgot yourself halfway through a lesson.” Crow straightened, his expression settling into its usual composure. “Now tell me, Dust. When your fist came around, what made you stop?”
[05:31:27] Dust ‘s eyes flickered to the man for a long moment then back to the fire. The thoughts being processed like he was trying to walk through thick mud. On the boat, he wouldn’t had hesitated. He would have defended himself. Yet there was a small part of the man who he had left a long time ago on the banks of Lara – remembering the words from his father. He quoted them now. “The strike is not the defense you wish. It is the body’s reaction to anger. Know it, feel it, understand that and you will become a better man.” He then looked to the fire “You are right. I forgot myself and the instructions. Whether for a moment or for a long time, it does not matter.” He then placed another log on the fire as it slowly embered
[05:38:39] Crow watched Dust place another log upon the fire, the orange glow catching the hard lines of his face. For a moment, he said nothing. The words the candidate had quoted were not those of a fool. They were the words of a man who had been taught something worth remembering, even if life had buried it beneath years of habit. “Your father sounds like he understood the difference between a reaction and a decision.” Crow stepped closer to the fire, holding his hands behind his back. His gaze settled on the embers, though his attention remained on Dust. “You say you forgot yourself. Perhaps. But you also stopped. That matters.” He glanced toward the candidate. “Do not make the mistake of thinking discipline means never feeling anger. You will feel it. Fear, humiliation, frustration. Sometimes another man will strike you precisely because he wants to see what you do next.” A faint, almost wry smile touched his lips. “Do not make his decision for him by giving him the reaction he came looking for.” He crouched briefly to adjust a shifting log, then straightened. “You have spent your life learning how to survive at sea, Dust. Your father’s words suggest he was trying to teach you how to survive yourself.” His emerald eyes met the candidate’s. “That may prove the more difficult lesson.” Crow let the fire crackle between them for a moment before adding, more quietly, “Tell me something. When you stopped that fist, was it because you remembered my instruction… or because, for one moment, you remembered the man your father wanted you to become?”
[05:47:40] Dust again had to think long and hard about the answer. Not because he was choosing the right words to say but because he simply wasn’t sure exactly what the man wanted to hear. There were things he did not know yet – many things. Even after living 50 years in a place that hadn’t aged him much, a gorean man at heart – he still didn’t feel like he was much of that man that his father had wanted him to be. “My father was a man of steel but knew how to use it in the right way. My mother a woman of words. Long, lengthy, with the touch of a woman who cared for their only son.” He said plainly “I remember them daily as a way to try and shape a life I feel very much like is still to be shaped. I have led men into battle, I have discovered many wakes of life – North and South. When my boots hit ground, I go and make my living for a while. Slaver, Merchant, builder of boats. When the sea calls, I return. I believe that my father wanted more for me. More than just a man that does things because he has to but because he supposed to. So I would say the later. On a ship you have no chance to think for yourself. You are lead by a leader. A captain. You fight because you have to – to defend the very boards you live on. This choice today was not because I didn’t want to punch you back, but because – somewhere – the boards are no longer at risk.”
[05:57:00] Crow listened without interrupting, his expression thoughtful as the firelight moved across his features. There was something in Dust’s answer that interested him more than the candidate might have realized. Not the mention of battles, ships, or the many trades he had pursued, but the distinction he had finally begun to make between necessity and choice. “Somewhere, the boards are no longer at risk,” he repeated quietly. He let the words settle before turning his gaze toward the candidate. “That is worth remembering, Dust. On a ship, the threat is often clear. Someone attacks, you defend. Someone gives an order, you act. The survival of the crew may depend on it.” He paused remembering his own life upon the Stormcrow. A contract that had led him to the role of captain, because the men on board felt Crow, or his alter-ego Silas, the better leader. Their mutiny was not anticipated so he had remained Silas the Captain of the Stormcrow. A story he might one day tell at the campfire. “But here, you will encounter men who want you to believe that every insult is an attack, every challenge a threat, and every moment of discomfort something that must be answered.” Crow moved to the other side of the fire, unhurried. “Your father may have wanted you to become a man who does more than what necessity demands. Perhaps that is what you are beginning to discover for yourself.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “You have spent years being many things, Dust. A sailor. A slaver. A merchant. A builder. You know how to take on a role when circumstances require it.” His gaze held the candidate’s. “But who are you when no captain gives the order? When no enemy stands before you? When there is no ship to defend and no immediate danger to justify your actions?” He glanced toward the embers. “That is the man we are trying to find. Not the man your father wanted, nor the man you think we expect. The man who remains when there is no one left to tell him what he must be.” Crow nudged a settling log into place with his boot. “And for what it is worth, Dust, I would rather train a man who can admit he wanted to strike me than one who pretends he felt nothing at all.” A dry glimmer returned to his eyes. “Though next time, I would appreciate it if you kept your fists to yourself until you have decided what they are for.”
[06:08:16] Dust listened to Crow – his every word taken in as he digested it – and then – right at the end – he couldn’t help but let out a low hearty laugh at the man’s words. He watched the fire – the flicker of the flame – the change of the flames direction when the wind blew too hard. He remembered another lesson from his youth. Then he nodded to Crow “One i hope will keep alive once danger has passed – one who will achieve what he came here to achieve yet very much feels out of his depth doing. A life is merely one pathway taken where others remain or others could be taken. A choice between them unclear at the beginning, yet once you start to travel down there is no going back. That is what lead me to your gates, and why I continue.” he said simply “And why my actions were stopped. I wanted to punch you simply because I was angry. That is never a reason.”
[06:15:42] Crow regarded Dust for a moment, and the candidate’s laughter drew the faintest hint of a smile from him. It was good to hear it. Too many men, when confronted with their own shortcomings, chose either anger or silence. Dust, at least, was beginning to recognize the difference between being challenged and being diminished. “Then perhaps you are beginning to understand why you came here.” He turned his attention to the fire, watching the flames catch along the fresh log. “You speak of pathways as though choosing one means surrendering all the others. Perhaps it does. But do not confuse commitment with blindness, Dust. You chose to come through our gates. That choice deserves to be taken seriously, but it does not excuse you from questioning the road beneath your feet. And you are correct. Anger is not a reason to strike. Neither is pride, embarrassment, or the need to prove that another man cannot make you feel small. Unfortunately we are often met with the ego’s of warriors. You will learn there is little love between the Red and Black. There will be times when you must use violence. When that time comes, I expect you to know precisely why you are using it.” A brief pause, then a dry smile. “Preferably before your fist is halfway to my face.”Crow folded his arms, his demeanor settling back into its familiar composure. “You feel out of your depth. Good. That means you have recognized the depth of the water before throwing yourself into it.” He inclined his head slightly. “Now we discover whether you can learn to swim. Keep that thought about your father. Not because you must become the man he wanted you to be, but because you are finally beginning to decide what sort of man you want to be yourself.”
[06:25:47] Dust had never considered that the road that lead him here meant surrendering all others. He had just followed it because he felt like he had to. A desire to be something more than what he was. Being on the sea lead him to different ports and cities and had let him live life’s where there was always something missing. Even here today, he felt like he was drowning under the weight of what he taking on. But the Northern traditions were deep. He would not allow himself to drown. At least not yet. He nodded to Crow now – his eyes more resolved. He himself added another log to the fire processing the whole conversation. It had felt too long that he had remembered the small nuances his father had drilled into him over and over. Too long ago that his Mother had insisted him re-write his letters until they were perfect. But in that time he had learnt a lot about himself and the man he wanted to be – or didn’t want to be. The simple pleasures of a slave on his lap, a drink in his hand, nothing to worry for but the ne meal or the next fight on the open seas. He didn’t miss it – which he thought he would. For the moment it felt right being here. “Aye. The man I want to be myself.” He repeated
[06:43:10] Crow watched Dust add another log to the fire, noting the change in the candidate’s expression. There was still uncertainty there, and no small amount of doubt, but something else had begun to take root beneath it. Resolve, perhaps. Or simply the stubborn Northern refusal to go quietly into deep water. “Good,” he said at last. “Then remember that answer when the work becomes difficult. It is easy to speak of the man you wish to become beside a warm fire. It is considerably harder when you are tired, angry, frightened, or convinced that the men teaching you have lost their minds.” A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. “Which, I assure you, is a conclusion you may reach more than once.” Crow shifted his stance, his gaze settling on the embers. “You have lived enough lives to know what it is to be a sailor, a merchant, a slaver, a builder. You have known the comfort of familiar habits and the freedom of leaving when the sea calls. I won’t pretend those things mean nothing simply because you have come here.” He looked back at Dust, his expression growing more serious. “But you said something worth holding on to. You no longer miss the life you expected to miss. Pay attention to that. Do not dismiss it, and do not assume it means you have already found your answer. You are still learning what this path asks of you.” He gave a small nod toward the fire. “For now, keep it burning. Observe. Listen. Think before you act. And when you make a mistake, do not waste your time pretending you didn’t.” His eyes met Dust’s once more. “You need not become the man your father imagined, candidate. Nor the man I might prefer you to be. Become a man who knows why he makes his choices and is prepared to bear what follows. That will be a better beginning than most ever manage.”
[06:49:45] Dust listened quietly, his gaze shifting between the tents now. A faint chuckle escaped him at the suggestion that he might question his teachers’ sanity. “I think I’ve already reached that conclusion once or twice,” he admitted with a crooked grin. “Though I’m beginning to suspect there’s a method to the madness.” He nudged a stubborn log further into the fire with a stick, considering the Assassin’s words. “My father always knew what he wanted me to become. For a long time, I thought I knew too. But perhaps I’ve spent more of my life trying to prove something to others than deciding what I wanted for myself.” He glanced up at Crow. “I don’t expect this path to be easy. Nor do I expect to get everything right. But I’m still here, and that’s a choice I made myself.” His grin returned briefly. “Though I reserve the right to mutter about your sanity while I’m making it.”
[06:50:15] KeDjA strolls between the tents after returning to camp. A bucket in one hand, the other hanging loosely at her side, she hums as usual. Despite the increasingly changeable weather, her feet remain bare, so she makes hardly any sound… if it weren’t for her humming. With a flourish, she sets the bucket down on one of the tables in the kitchen area and wipes her hand on her kirtle. Then she grabs the kitchen knife lying there and fishes the first object out of the bucket… a fish. It hasn’t been dead long. But it’s dead enough that it’s long since stopped wriggling.
[06:53:42] Crow allowed a quiet, genuine chuckle at Dust’s remark, inclining his head as though conceding the point. “By all means. Mutter away. So long as you learn to do it quietly enough that no one mistakes it for an actual challenge.” His green eyes rested on the candidate a moment longer, the sternness in them tempered by a hint of approval. “You are still here, Dust. Not because someone dragged you through the gate, nor because your father expected it of you. You chose this. Remember that when the days come that you would rather be anywhere else.” He gave a small nod, accepting the end of their conversation without demanding more from the man. “Go tend to what needs tending. Keep your eyes open, your mind sharper than your tongue, and your pride on a shorter leash than your instincts.” As Kedja’s humming drifted through the compound, Crow’s gaze briefly followed her to the kitchen table and the bucket of fish. His expression shifted into faint suspicion. “Though I would advise keeping clear of whatever Kedja is preparing. I have learned that curiosity is useful in our work, but there are limits to how much a man should investigate his own supper.” A dry smile returned as he turned away, leaving Dust with the fire and the thoughts he had earned. His focus upon the bond.
[02:08:36] Crow (melchior.wardell) had been watching. He had seen Arsus give the man a command. He had not intervened. There was no raised voice. No sudden movement. Only the quiet weight of his gaze settling upon the seeker. Crow’s eyes dropped briefly to the man’s feet before returning to his face. “You moved.” He allowed the silence to stretch for a moment, letting the consequence settle before continuing. “You were given one condition. Remain as still as the stones beneath you. You were told precisely what would happen if you failed.” His expression remained unreadable. “Do not explain it. Do not justify it. The reason does not matter.” A slight tilt of his head followed. “Now you have a choice.” Crow gestured once toward the pile of belongings. “Pick them up. Leave.” He would give there a pause. A pause in which a life could flash by. “Or remain where you are and accept that you have failed this particular test. Whether you are permitted another opportunity is not yours to decide.” He stepped back, giving the man no assistance and offering no further words. The test had never been about whether Zavier could endure discomfort. It was whether he could obey when every instinct told him to act.
[02:12:11] Zavier Montgomary (zandarletts) felt his jaw tighten, the answer rising instinctively to his tongue before he held it back. He had obeyed the campmaster, yet here he stood condemned for moving; the frustration showed briefly in his eyes, though his feet remained planted upon the stones. His belongings lay within reach, but he did not look towards them. “I will remain,” he said quietly. “I accept that I have failed your test.” He met Crow’s gaze, swallowing the bitterness of words left unspoken. “Whether I am given another opportunity is yours to decide. I am here to learn.”
[02:16:30] Crow (melchior.wardell) regarded him in silence for several long moments. The admission came without excuses, and that mattered more than the failure itself. Crow had seen the frustration in the man’s eyes, the instinct to defend himself, and then the deliberate choice to swallow it. His gaze remained steady. “Good.” The word came quietly. “Not because you failed. You were supposed to understand that failure would be possible.” He shifted his weight slightly, the leather of his sword belt giving the faintest sound in the stillness. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You now know where the weakness appeared. Not in your legs. In your mind.” Crow’s gaze dropped once toward the man’s belongings before returning to him. He stepped closer, stopping well short of invading the man’s space. His expression remained stern, but there was a subtle difference in it now. Attention. “Do not mistake that for acceptance.” The man would breath him. Perhaps smell the scent of burned wood and leather. His green eyes were like emeralds. Hard and sharp as if they were able to cut the man right there and then.
[02:23:22] Zavier Montgomary (zandarletts) held Crow’s gaze with tired sky-blue eyes, the scent of burned wood and leather reaching him as the man stepped closer. His jaw tightened briefly at the words, though he kept whatever answer stirred behind it firmly contained. Hunger had settled into a persistent ache since the night before; even while gathering wood, he had not stopped to find food, and the few mouthfuls of water taken from the nearby waterfall had done little to sustain him through the hours that followed. Now his throat felt dry, his legs heavy, and remaining still required more deliberate effort than he cared to show. He swallowed carefully, resisting the urge to ease his weight from one foot to the other. “I understand,” he answered, his voice roughened by thirst but quiet enough to carry no challenge. “I will not mistake it.” For a moment, he felt the pull of his belongings nearby and all that leaving would mean, but his eyes stayed upon Crow. He drew a slow breath and remained planted upon the stones, allowing the silence to stand.
[02:30:11] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained still for a moment, studying the man before him. The signs were there now, the dry voice, the controlled breathing, the subtle tension in his legs. Crow had no need to be told what the body was beginning to demand. Yet he had not moved. That was what mattered. Crow’s gaze remained upon him, measuring rather than judging. “Then understand this as well.” His voice was quieter now. “Discipline is not proven when obedience is easy. Anyone can stand still when the body has no reason to move.” Crow glanced briefly toward the man’s belongings, then back to him. “You are hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Your body is asking you for relief, and your mind is looking for reasons to grant it.” He let the silence return for a long time. He was a man of patience. It had been beaten into him. And this man before him would feel the wrath of it clean and fresh. It must be clear by now that granting permission into the training was not an easy won thing. “Some men are considered worthless while they wait. Lower than slaves. As they can be commanded to do anything. Humiliated to the bone. All to test how eager they are …” he shrugged. “And here you are … only to stand still.” There was challenge and mockery in his voice. A slithering snake that hissed in the mans ear to give up and no longer endure the cruelty of those men that wore the black.
[02:36:13] Zavier Montgomary (zandarletts) felt the mockery bite more sharply than the ache in his legs, a brief tightening around his blue eyes betraying that he had heard it plainly. His empty stomach cramped beneath his ribs, and he waited for the worst of it to pass without bending or pressing a hand against it. There was little dignity in standing there while another man described how easily he might be reduced, but reaching for his belongings now would mean abandoning what he had come for. He drew a measured breath through his nose, careful not to turn it into a weary sigh. “It sounds a small thing when you say it,” he admitted, his voice dry and low. “It does not feel small now.” The words cost him a little pride, though he held Crow’s gaze as he spoke them. He wanted water, food, somewhere to sit; each had become difficult to keep from his thoughts. “But I still wish to be here.” With that, he fell quiet again, his feet remaining where they had been placed while he worked through the next stretch of silence.
[02:44:12] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied him for a long moment, the admission drawing neither approval nor ridicule from his expression. “Good.” The answer came quietly. “Then remember this feeling.” Crow’s gaze remained fixed upon him. “You have discovered that something which sounds small can become very large when it is placed between you and what you want.” He drew a breath as if to signify the words further. “That is why the test matters.” Crow let the silence settle again, but this time his voice held less edge. “You are not required to pretend that hunger does not hurt. You are not required to convince me that your legs are not tired.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “You are required to decide what you do with that discomfort.” Crow glanced toward the belongings resting nearby in a very obvious manner. “You already made your choice once.” He looked back to Zavier. “You moved because you feared the consequences of another … ” there was a devious smile playing on his features. “I always wonder … when it will dawn to candidates and seekers … which one they need to fear most.” he let the words hang there.
[02:51:28] Zavier Montgomary (zandarletts): me’s brow furrowed, confusion showing plainly in his tired blue eyes as Crow’s words settled upon him. He had understood the order to stand still, and he had understood the campmaster’s command when it came; what troubled him now was how he was supposed to choose between them. His lips parted, then closed again as he considered whether a question would be taken for another excuse. Hunger gnawed at him through the pause, and he swallowed against the dryness in his throat before speaking. “I do not know,” he admitted quietly, keeping his feet planted. “I fear the unknown. The fear of not knowing. The fear that one day the seas would have turned their swells against me and my crew and left me dead. But those days are then, and this is where I feel I need to be now. This is the unknown for me. Consequences and actions mater – words are taken exactly as they are meant. I fear that my whole knowledge is … worthless here and now and yet I remain willing to be changed. Molded as a new man.”
[02:59:46] Crow (melchior.wardell) listened without interruption, his gaze fixed upon the man as the words came. This time there was no correction waiting at the end of them. No immediate challenge. Only silence. Crow had heard men speak of fear before. Most dressed it in courage until it became difficult to recognize. Zavier did not. He had finally stopped trying to give the answer he thought was expected and instead offered something far more useful. Truth. His eyes moved briefly over the man’s exhausted posture. “You have spent your life learning how to survive what you understood. The sea. Storms. Men. Hunger. Death. And now you have deliberately placed yourself somewhere where those lessons may no longer be enough.” Crow’s expression hardened. He took a slow breath. “I wonder … how were you sure that the man that ordered you to gather wood was a man of any authority?” A faint, almost humorless curve touched his lips. “Surely you wouldn’t just take any mans word for it?” He would draw his dagger slowly. He carried two: chaos and order. ‘Chaos’ flashed briefly in that little light here this deep into the forest. The top moving slow over the mans chest but there where the man could see it. “Would you step back if I were to cut you, I wonder?”
[03:08:00] Zavier Montgomary (zandarletts): /me’s blue eyes dropped to the dagger as it passed before his chest, his breath catching despite himself. His stomach tightened with something sharper than hunger, and for a moment the urge to step away was so strong that he had to think deliberately about keeping his feet where they were. He could not keep that alarm from his face. “I took him for a man who had authority here,” he answered, his dry voice hesitant. “I did not ask him to prove it. I see now that I assumed.” The admission left his brow furrowed; he had acted upon a certainty that no longer seemed certain at all. With the blade so close, it was difficult to gather his thoughts. “If you cut me… I might,” he admitted. “I have experience pain before I even knew it was happening so I know how it feels, and do not like it. However, pain happens whether you prepare or not. I cannot promise you that standing here would stop that.” His gaze returned to Crow’s face, searching it with visible unease. “Am I meant to question a command when I do not know the man’s authority? To ask before I act? I am used to following instructions – the Captain’s command over a ship is final. Whether he has been a captain for 2 minutes or 50 years” He swallowed, leaving his hands at his sides. “I need to understand how to judge that.” [03:10:26] Im Strange is offline.
[03:15:19] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s gaze remained on Zavier, the dagger held steady for another moment before Crow slowly lowered it. There had been no need to cut him. The reaction itself had told him enough. “You are beginning to understand the question.” Crow stepped closer, his voice quiet and deliberate. “On a ship, authority is visible. A captain has a crew. A rank. A vessel beneath his feet. The command structure is known.” His eyes narrowed. “Here, you cannot rely upon a uniform, a title, or the assumption that the loudest voice is the one you obey.” Crow tapped the flat of the dagger lightly against his own palm before returning it to its sheath. “You ask how you judge authority.” He would wait and than stated “First, you observe. Who speaks? Who stands with him? Who obeys him? Who does not? What does the situation tell you before you ever open your mouth?” Crow’s gaze remained unwavering. “Second, you understand that uncertainty does not give you permission to invent certainty. You assumed the man had authority. That assumption moved you.” A faint nod toward the ground where Zavier had failed the test. “You may ask for clarification. You may choose to obey. You may choose not to. But every choice has a consequence.” Crow let the silence return for several heartbeats. “An Assassin cannot afford to act simply because an answer feels comfortable. And neither can you. Unless you take up your belongings and go.” The fact Arsus was campmaster he let unmentioned as there was not yet anything to explain for the ranks of the caste when it came to a seeker.
[03:23:12] Zavier Montgomary (zandarletts) released a shallow breath as the dagger was lowered, though the tension across his chest lingered after it disappeared into its sheath. His eyes returned to Crow’s face, his brow still drawn as he considered the explanation. “This man did tell me he was the campmaster,” he said quietly. “That was why I believed he could command me.” He paused, conscious of how easily that might sound like another attempt to excuse himself. “But I took his word for it. I had nothing beyond that.” His throat worked through a dry swallow while he tried to make sense of the distinction. A title had given him something familiar to grasp in a place where he understood so little, and he had accepted it without considering the order already binding him. He remained upon the stones, the ache in his legs making the silence uncomfortable and he shuffled ever so slightly. “I understand the lesson now.” There was no satisfaction in the admission, only a thoughtful crease between his brows. “I will have to learn to look more carefully—and to ask when I do not know. Now may I move again? And search for something to quench the thirst? Or must I remain here til I learn another valuable lesson or die… from that.”
[03:29:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied him for a long moment, the faint movement of his own eyes betraying that he had heard the distinction. The man’s answer was not entirely wrong. He had been given a title, and in a place he did not yet understand, he had relied upon it. But the question now was not about the campmaster. It was about what Zavier did with uncertainty. A faint twitch touched the corner of Crow’s mouth at the final question. “Ah.” Crow’s gaze travelled deliberately from the man’s face, to his bare feet, and back again. “We men of caste hardly act upon what we belief. There is need for certainty.” he allowed this lesson to exist. Crow allowed the silence to stretch for another heartbeat before finally giving a small nod. “Yes. You may move.” His voice remained firm. “Drink. Eat. Sit if your legs require it. You have stood long enough.” he held pause as to see the relief upon th man’s face before adding “Of course … only when you do not want to continue with your wait.” There was a dark gaze one of intensity and perhaps even cruelty. This was better than a punch or a good kick in the nuts. With that he turned and left, leaving the man once again alone with all of his thoughts and questions.
[10:56:08] Crow (melchior.wardell) couldn’t help but to spy Kedja with something strapped to her thigh. Curious perhaps, or was it the strong pull she had upon him that made him approach her. “What is that?”he asks pointing to the dagger. If something rubbed him the wrong way it was a slave wearing weaponry.
[10:58:48] KeDjA (lilli.breda) watches the butterflies fluttering over the flowers as if there were nothing better in the world than being a butterfly. When she hears footsteps and then the voice that goes with them, she turns around. Her first answer to Crow’s question, based on what she’s observed, is “butterflies.” Then she pauses for a moment when she notices his gaze, and her eyes drift down to herself. “Oh… that… a knife, Master,” she replies truthfully… and simply.
[11:03:24] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s eyes remained on the knife for a moment longer before returning to Kedja’s face. There was no anger in his expression, but the stillness in it was enough to make his opinion clear. “A knife, yes.” His gaze dropped briefly toward it again. “You know my view on slaves carrying weapons.” He stepped a little closer, though not threateningly, his voice remaining low and even. “I don’t care whether you intend to use it. I care that you could.” Ther was this pause. “Put it away for now. Then tell me why you have it.” He wasn’t accusing her. He was giving her the opportunity to explain before deciding what, if anything, needed to be done.
[11:07:39] KeDjA (lilli.breda) ‘s eyes follow his movements as he takes a step closer. “I was planning to use it. Otherwise, it would have lost its usefulness, Master.” For a brief moment, something like irritation flashes across her face. After all, she uses knives several times a day. Her right hand points to the flowers beside her. “My master’s orders,” she finally explains. “Flowers for the innkeeper.” As always, she uses no more words than she deems necessary.
[11:11:52] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s gaze followed the gesture toward the flowers, then returned to the knife. For a moment, he said nothing. “So. Your master’s orders.” His eyes settled briefly upon the blade again, his expression thoughtful rather than angry. “That explains its purpose. It doesn’t make me particularly fond of seeing a slave carrying a weapon.” His gaze returned to Kedja. “I’ve seen too many things go wrong when a weapon is within easy reach. Intentions have a habit of changing when circumstances do.” A brief pause, his tone remaining calm. “If you were mine, I would have you leave it behind unless the work specifically required it.” He glanced toward the flowers.“But you’re not mine. So the decision is ultimately your master’s.” A faint lift of his brow. “Just understand why it catches my attention.” He would speak on the matter as his attention was taken by someone approaching. “Ah greetings lady. I trust you are well?”
[11:15:51] KeDjA (lilli.breda) tilts her head slightly as he explains. “Even if I’m not, you should know me better, Master,” she replies quietly in a gentle voice, before her attention is diverted when she notices a movement behind him. Her eyes follow the figure for a moment before she looks back at Crow. “I understand, Master,” she finally says, before he turns around and greets the woman. As usual, she keeps a low profile from this point on and merely bows her head in greeting. Her hands rest on her back, as if to emphasize the words she first addressed to Crow.
[11:20:09] Róisín Russo (roisin.heartsong) would have woke early , and was exploring , and noticed them in the garden and said ” Tal , I am well , I hope the same goes for You ” as She nodded to the girl ” tal girl ” as She looked to the Flowers and smiled ” My Complements to whom ever has been tending These they are Lovely “
[11:24:21] Crow (melchior.wardell) turned his attention toward the killer that approached. Giving him a dip of his head. A respectful gesture to the man he knew well. Than his focus returned to the woman. “Tal. I am well enough.” His gaze briefly moved toward the flowers before returning to Róisín. “Your compliment will be passed to the one tending them.” His eyes shifted momentarily toward Kedja, then back to the woman. The earlier exchange remained quietly filed away in his mind. Kedja’s words had been simple, but there had been something beneath them. He did not press it. Instead, he allowed his attention to settle on the lady, observing her with the same quiet scrutiny he gave everyone who entered Black Ember Port. “Exploring?” he asked, casually enough that it could pass as simple conversation
[11:30:13] KeDjA (lilli.breda) glances to the right as a movement appears out of nowhere. The corners of her mouth twitch briefly before she steps back slightly to put some distance between herself and Crow, then reaches for her left thigh and pulls out the knife. The way she does it probably reveals more than she should. At least to men who use knives regularly themselves. She hums softly, probably barely audibly, as she begins her task, carefully cutting some flowers from their roots just above the ground. In doing so, she mainly selects those that the butterflies tend to visit less frequently.
[11:32:44] Róisín Russo (roisin.heartsong) nodded ” Yes I Love the Waterfalls , good place to go sit and think on Your Problems , and I was looking to see what Plants , and Herbs are Native to this area” as She nodded and smiled ” well they do a wonderful Job with the flowers ” as she noticed the Man she met Yesterday and nodded and said ” Tal , I hope Your day is going well “
[11:34:16] αяѕυѕ (daimos.baarer): Arsus, also known as “The Silent One,” set off for the inn. He hoped to meet Kedja there; after all, she had been tasked with getting some flowers. For that purpose, he had been given a knife. It was a simple knife that could be used to cut flowers, cut meat, and, if necessary, fend off animals. You can definitely do all that with a kitchen knife. He hoped to impress the innkeeper with the flowers; he had once heard, though it had been a very long time ago, that women like flowers. For whatever reason. He spotted Crow, who greeted him with a nod. Arsus nodded back. Twice, just to make sure Crow would notice. He then nodded to the woman, also as a sign of greeting. He raised his hand and motioned with a finger for Kedja to come closer.
[11:39:55] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s attention shifted briefly toward Kedja as the knife appeared. This time, however, he watched the draw rather than the blade itself. The movement was smooth, practiced enough to catch his notice. Interesting. His eyes followed the knife as she carefully selected the flowers, cutting those least visited by the butterflies. That detail earned the faintest lift of his brow. Crow then turned toward Arsus “I see the mission is proceeding successfully.” There was the faintest trace of dry amusement in his voice. His attention returned to Róisín as she spoke of the waterfalls and native herbs. “Then you’ve found one of the better places to start looking. The Port has more useful things growing around it than most people bother to notice.” He himself pondered on the mission of flowers by Arsus. Of course there was still that bet, which if Crow was honest, had not yet given it much effort. Perhaps because there were other matters that occupied his mind. Or perhaps because the woman was far more resisting than most.
[11:45:46] KeDjA (lilli.breda) works quickly and soon has a small bouquet of flowers in her hand that looks as if someone had picked it by the wayside. Nothing over the top, nothing exotic. Probably just the kind Namika would choose herself. She puts the knife away just as quickly as she’d drawn it and now closes the distance between herself and Arsus. “My Master,” she says softly, holding the flowers so he can examine them. She had noticed Crow watching her, but at first it didn’t unsettle her. Her voice is soft so as not to interrupt his conversation with the scribe.
[11:49:52] Róisín Russo (roisin.heartsong) nodded and smiled ” Yes good thing I have good boots , to maneuver around to find stuff , Have You seen My Father Recently , I’ve not in quite some time now ” as Sh saw the girl cutting the flowers , and said ” those will be lovely in aaa vase”
[11:53:37] αяѕυѕ (daimos.baarer): Arsus thought briefly about Crow’s words and wondered which mission he might be referring to. The one with the innkeeper, perhaps. Arsus smiled to himself. If that was it, then he was really going to get things started. Arsus rarely placed bets, and when he did, he intended to win. Women liked it when you listened. A trait Arsus was born with. He probably noticed the look in Crow’s eyes as he watched how skillfully Kedja handled a knife. Arsus hadn’t just taken Kedja to bed; he’d also taught her other things that worked to his own advantage. That Kedja benefited from this, too, was only natural. He would look at the flowers she brought him, just a bouquet of flowers. He trusted Kedja more than he trusted himself on this matter; if she thought the flowers were beautiful and worth cutting, then that was simply the case. “What mission?” he asked Crow, almost in passing, as he took the flowers and examined them like a trophy. He didn’t really want to interrupt the conversation between Crow and the Scribe. “Beautiful flowers, thank you, Kedja,” he then said to his slave.
[11:57:07] Crow (melchior.wardell) let his attention rest briefly on the simple bouquet before returning to Arsus. A faint hint of amusement touched his expression at the way the flowers were inspected as though they were some rare prize. “Beautiful, apparently. And efficiently acquired.” His gaze shifted toward Kedja for a moment. The knife had disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, but Crow had noticed the movement. He said nothing about it now. Then Arsus asked about the mission. Crow’s eyes returned to him. “The mission?” A slight pause. “Apparently, it was to acquire flowers without declaring war on the butterflies.” His tone was dry, though his eyes briefly betrayed the joke. “Judging by the result, she has succeeded.” He glanced toward Róisín and gave a small nod. “As for your question about your father, I haven’t seen him recently. Although I did receive word of him being in Valaris. The Killer Kage has placed his banner there once more.” he knew Roison slightly aware of these matters so he didn’t keep that intel from her.
[12:02:16] KeDjA (lilli.breda) lets her hands fall as Arsus takes the bouquet and wipes her palms on the black, silky fabric before placing them back on her back and interlacing her fingers. At Arsus’s compliment, she beams at him for a moment and then murmurs a quiet “thank you” during a brief pause in the conversation. At the mention of butterflies and war, the corners of her mouth twitch suspiciously and her eyes sparkle with amusement. Her imagination runs wild immediately, conjuring images of armed butterflies. To keep from getting completely lost in her thoughts, she clears her throat softly and moves a little closer to Arsus to ask him quietly, “Would you like to deliver the flowers yourself, or should I bring them, my Master?”
[12:02:54] Róisín Russo (roisin.heartsong) nodded ” thank You , I do Hope He is well , Kage I mean , I’ve not seen Him since Skull , when I told Him about the Physician , searching for a rock thief ” as She nodded about her Father ” well I assume I’ll see my Father sooner or later , but I wont go to Valaris ”
[12:08:04] αяѕυѕ (daimos.baarer): Arsus let something like a smile show. “Oh, the mission,” he paused and lowered the bouquet so he could see Crow better. “I think Kedja handled this mission brilliantly, as you can see. Without provoking the ‘War of the Butterflies.’” Somehow, Arsus felt he’d heard that expression before—probably from some Earthling who was actually referring to stars. Arsus listened to the conversation in passing. He turned back to Kedja and looked to see which knife she was actually carrying today.
[12:12:24] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s gaze moved briefly toward Kedja as she spoke, catching the quiet amusement in her expression before returning to Arsus. “The war has been avoided. A successful mission, then.” A faint smirk touched his mouth. His attention shifted toward Róisín at the mention of Kage, listening without interrupting. He gave a small nod, filing the information away without pressing her further. Then his eyes returned to Arsus and Kedja. “I’d let Kedja decide,” he remarked dryly. “She was the one who selected them. Besides, if the Innkeeper is the intended recipient, perhaps the woman who knows her preferences should deliver them?” His gaze settled briefly on the bouquet. “Though I admit, I didn’t expect you to become a man of flowers.” There was a small dig in his words or perhaps jealousy that he didn’t think of that approach. He turned to Roisin. “Do you wish me to pass him a message?” he offered as ever gallant.
[12:17:12] Róisín Russo (roisin.heartsong) shook her Head ” Oh Just That I was wondering How He was is all , thank You ” as She smiled then to the Others ” I’m sure the Women will be quite happy , Most women love gifts of flowers , they even like chocolate , tho that can be expensive if someone has a sweet tooth”
[12:22:11] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s brow lifted slightly at the mention of chocolate, his gaze moving briefly toward Róisín. “Flowers and chocolate. Apparently, there are rules to this business that I was never taught.” A faint smirk touched his mouth before his attention returned to Arsus and the bouquet. “Though if the Innkeeper has a sweet tooth, Arsus may have discovered that flowers are only the beginning of the expense.” He gave Róisín a small nod. “Good to know about Kage. If you happen to see him before I do, tell him I asked after him.” he would dip his head “But I fear I have to depart. Duty calls.” with that he moved off silently and quick. He had been putting it off too long already. As he would head to Avarra.
[12:26:27] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) sat reading her book quietly in the marketplace
[12:30:07] Crow (melchior.wardell) had developed an unfortunate sixth sense for certain things. Some places seemed to have a way of placing people exactly where they were least expected and Neeve had a habit of being found where he was already looking for her. So when he entered Avarra and found her seated among the flowers, book in hand, He did not pretend otherwise. He made no effort to pass by as though he had not come with a purpose. His gaze settled upon her, sharp at first, then softened by the faintest trace of amusement. “Greetings, Lady Neeve.” He came to a stop nearby, eyes briefly dropping toward the book before returning to her. “Reading something interesting. Something concerning the latest developments in serums?” His brow lifted. “Or perhaps a much more dangerous subject…”The corner of his mouth curved.“…the romantic affairs of an Ubar and his pleasure slave?”
[12:36:27] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) turned another page just as she heard Crow’s familiar voice behind her. Lifting her head, she greeted him with a warm smile. “Actually… it’s a fairy tale about a girl who goes down rabbit holes. I found it in the library here on Gor. An odd place for a book like this, I feel.” She glanced down at the pages before looking back at him. “It’s a story I know from Earth, called Alice in Wonderland. Have you ever read it?” She chuckled softly at his suggestion. “Though I’d love to hear about this Ubar and his pleasure slave, if you wish to share. I’m sure it’s a far more interesting story, involving… romance, intrigue, and perhaps even a death!” Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she folded the corner of the page to mark her place and set the book upon the table. “Care to join me?”
[12:42:00] Crow (melchior.wardell) listened in the way he always did when she spoke, not merely hearing the words but allowing the little details to settle into place. “Alice in Wonderland,” he echoed, considering the unfamiliar title. “No. I can’t say I’ve read it. Or even heard of it.” A faint smile appeared. “I have had my share of sandwiches, though. Courtesy of a Barbarian.”He offered no further explanation. Some experiences were not his to share, not even with her. At the mention of the Ubar, Crow gave a quiet shake of his head. “That story sounds dreadful already. And yes… I doubt either of them came away from it particularly well.” He lowered himself beside her, settling with the ease of someone accustomed to finding a place wherever he happened to be. As he did, he adjusted the daggers at his belt, making certain they sat comfortably. A necessary inconvenience of being perpetually armed. His gaze returned to her. “There isn’t much romance in the stories I’ve heard that actually lasts forever.” A faint, almost wistful curve touched his mouth. “Perhaps that’s because forever is a rather difficult promise to keep.”
[12:47:13] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) paused for a moment, studying the man who had settled beside her. Her fingers tapped lightly against the book as she noticed him adjusting the daggers at his belt, a movement so familiar that she suspected he had performed it every day of his life. At the mention of sandwiches, however, her eyebrows lifted, and a curious smirk spread across her face. “Sandwiches, courtesy of a Barbarian? Now there’s a story I’d like to hear someday.” She chuckled softly before considering his words. “I don’t know, Crow. I know a few stories from Earth where they live happily ever after, though I suspect fairy tales are rather different from the real thing. As I know all too well myself.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, reaching for a flower from the vase before her and turning it gently between her fingers. “Forever is a long time, especially here in this world, Crow.” Her gaze returned to him, a faint smile touching her lips. “I think I’d choose… now over forever. Or at least…” She glanced down at the flower, her smile lingering. “For a while.”
[12:58:35] Crow (melchior.wardell) listened, the faintest amusement touching his features as he considered her words. His hand almost lifted when a loose strand of her hair caught his attention, the impulse there for only a moment before he deliberately kept it to himself. “Fairy tales,” he murmured, “are dreams given words. Hope and longing dressed up as something that might actually survive the ending.” Her jest about a lifetime of happiness earned a quiet chuckle. “I suspect even a man like me might grow suspicious if everything suddenly became too easy.” When she spoke of the girl from long ago, his gaze drifted for a moment, memories passing behind his eyes that he had no intention of explaining. Then he looked back to Neeve. “What we have now,” he agreed quietly. “Perhaps that is the only part of any story we are ever truly certain of.” His attention fell to the flowers beside her. After a moment, one brow rose.“Flowers seem to be following me today. Should I bring you some next time?” The question was asked lightly, but there was enough seriousness beneath it to make clear he genuinely wanted to know her answer.
[13:07:24] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) watched him for a moment, a small smile playing upon her lips as she considered his words. “Perhaps that’s why we enjoy fairy tales so much, Crow. They give us something to hope for, even when we know the world doesn’t always work that way.” She glanced down at the flower still held between her fingers, gently brushing a thumb across its petals. “Though I suppose there’s something rather lovely about not knowing how a story will end. It would be terribly dull if we knew everything that was going to happen, wouldn’t it?” She popped the flower back into the vase, and then his next question about the flowers brought her gaze back to him, and she raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Are you offering to bring me flowers, Crow?” She chuckled softly, tilting her head as though giving the matter some serious consideration. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t object. Though I might begin to wonder what you were after if you started arriving with flowers every time you came looking for me.” Her smile softened a little as she looked at him. “But yes, I’d like that.” She noticed his restraint, too, the small nuances in his manner that spoke of the man beneath that carefully composed exterior
[13:14:10] Crow (melchior.wardell) nodded slowly at her assessment, the faintest trace of amusement touching his expression. “I have to admit, the element of surprise is one I could never live without.” The words carried a meaning of their own, though he offered no explanation. Some truths were better left where they belonged. As she spoke, Crow listened, not simply waiting for his turn to answer. He noticed the small things, especially when she spoke of flowers and what they meant to her. He gave a quiet nod, as though committing the information to memory. “It seems so easy,” he murmured. “So simple. So… effective.” His gaze drifted toward the flowers. “Apparently, I missed that particular lesson.” A faint chuckle escaped him. “Today I saw a slave cutting flowers so her master could present them to a woman who could simply look out of her window and see those same flowers growing.” He shook his head slightly.“I confess, I don’t entirely understand it.” Then his eyes returned to Neeve. “But if you like receiving flowers, then I suppose I should remember that. And next time, Lady Neeve, you shall have them.”There was nothing dramatic in the promise. Perhaps that was what made it matter.
[13:21:09] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) noticed more and more that he kept looking at her expressions and somethings he said were left… unsaid. She paused a moment and cleared her throat. “You leave a lot unsaid Crow. Unspoken like a beast from this world that can not speak. Yet you speak half of what it is.” She sighed a little and tapped the book again “Why not… tell me? Why do you keep it hidden? I have lived a far time you know. I can handle.. whatever it is. ” She then chuckled softly at his confession, glancing towards the flowers as she considered his words. “Crow, I think you’ve missed the point entirely!” Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she turned back to him. “Of course the woman could look out of her window and see those very same flowers growing. But there’s a difference between admiring something beautiful and knowing that someone thought of you when they saw it.” She continues “It’s not really about the flowers, you see. It’s about the thought behind them. Someone taking a moment out of their day to do something simply because they thought it might make you smile.” She paused, studying him again “Though I must admit, I’m rather enjoying the idea of you wandering about Avarra, trying to decide which flowers might please me most. Though I do hope you won’t go troubling some poor slave to cut them for you. I think I’d much prefer knowing you picked them yourself.”
[13:25:54] Crow (melchior.wardell) listened without interrupting, his gaze remaining upon her as she explained. There was something almost disarming about the simplicity of it. Not the flowers themselves. The thought behind them. His eyes lowered briefly to the book beneath her hand before returning to her. “You notice more than most.” A quiet breath escaped him, almost a laugh. “As for what I leave unsaid…” He paused, considering the words carefully. “Some things are safer when they remain that way. Others are simply difficult to put into words.” His gaze held hers. “And some things, Neeve, become considerably more dangerous once they are spoken aloud.” There was no threat in it. If anything, there was honesty. Then her explanation of the flowers drew the faintest smile from him. “So that is the lesson I missed.” He glanced toward the flowers around them. “It isn’t the flower. It is the fact that I saw it and thought of you.”His eyes returned to hers. “That seems considerably more complicated. But perhaps worth learning.” At her last remark, one brow lifted. “And you want me to pick them myself?” The faint smile deepened. “I suppose I can manage that. Though I make no promises that I will know which flowers are supposed to make you smile.” He looked at her for another quiet moment. “I may simply have to learn by watching you.”
Posted in Niamh, Synin on September 24, 2026 by crow1971
There are some stories that end. And there are others that simply disappear beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to be remembered.
For a long time, she was known as Amber. Before that, she had been called Raven. Nightshade. Synin. Niamh. And once, long before the years of collars, cities, captivity and loss, she had been Karlotte.
Perhaps the strangest part of her story is that none of those names were entirely false. They were pieces of the same woman. She came from a world very different from Gor.
She was a physician and a researcher, educated in medicine and specializing in the manipulation of DNA. Her knowledge extended far beyond ordinary healing. Genetics, biological alteration, medicine and the mechanisms of the human body were the fields in which her mind had once been completely at home.
Then she was taken. Why she was abducted from Earth remains known only to a very small number of people.The journey ended violently. The ship of acquisition carrying her crashed near Laura, and the life as she knew it came to an end.
She became property. She was enslaved and eventually auctioned by Ari Blackthorne. From there, her story became one of movement, captivity and survival. She was sold to an Assassin. And then she was lost again. During the chaos that followed, she was taken from the docks of Port Kar by those she knew as the enemy.
After that point, the story becomes fragmented. And for years, even she herself could not tell anyone what happened. Eventually she found herself in the cold north. The winds there were brutal, but for the first time in a long time, she found something she had almost forgotten existed. Safety. She became the personal bond of the Overseer. And then something happened that would change the direction of her life once again. She saved a woman’s life.
For that act, she was freed. No longer a slave, she became his companion. Together they travelled through several northern cities before eventually settling in Holmesk. There, she under the name of Niamh built something she had not expected to ever have again.
A family. She became the mother of six children: Caspian. Sasha. Elodi. Lova. Oona. Hildingr.
For a time, she was not a prisoner. Not a fugitive. Not a name passed from one owner to another. She was a mother. A physician. A woman with a life. And then she disappeared.
The Missing Years. Nobody truly knows what happened. Not the people who knew her. Not the people who searched for her. And eventually, not even to herself.
When she was found by the Assassin Vesper, the woman he encountered did not remember the life she had once lived. Her memories were broken. Some remained as fragments. Some had been buried so deeply that she could not reach them. And some seemed simply to have been removed from the story entirely. She did not know where she had been. She did not know why she had disappeared. She did not know what had happened between Holmesk and the moment she was found.
So she became someone else. Amber. A name given to a woman who was trying to exist without knowing exactly who she had once been.
Memory rarely returns the way people imagine. There is no sudden opening of a door and a complete history waiting behind it. It begins with something small. A word. A sound. A smell. A familiar movement. A pattern the mind recognizes before the conscious self understands why.
For Amber, the key was not a name. It was a phrase. “Begin with the first sequence.” To anyone else, the words meant nothing. To Amber, they belonged to another life. A life of laboratories. Research. Medicine. Patterns. Sequences.
The first response was confusion. Then came the headache. Then the images. White light. A laboratory. Gloved hands. A woman’s handwriting. A name. Niamh. And suddenly Amber understood something terrifying. She had not simply forgotten who she was.
Someone — or something — had buried her past.
Remembering Holmesk. The memories did not return in order. They came like pieces of broken glass. Torvaldsberg. Snow. The smell of cold air. A woman’s voice. A child’s hand. Then another. And another. Six children. Six faces. Six names. Caspian. Sasha. Elodi. Lova. Oona. Hildingr. The memories came with emotion before they came with clarity.
Love, fear, pride, loss, motherhood. And then came the realization that hurt more than anything else. She remembered Holmesk. She remembered her children. She remembered the woman she had been. But there was still a great empty space. A wall inside her mind. Everything after a certain point simply…wasn’t there.
Amber was never a lie. That realization changed everything. Amber had not been a false identity. The things she had experienced as Amber were real. The people she had met were real. The bonds she had formed were real. The woman who had survived after her memories were taken from her was real.
But Amber had been living with only part of the story. And now another part was returning. Niamh was not replacing Amber. She was emerging from beneath her.
The physician was still there. The mother was still there. The survivor was still there. The woman who had learned to live after losing almost everything was still there.
Amber had simply carried Niamh through the years when Niamh could no longer carry herself. Eventually someone asked her the question. Not Who were you? Not What happened to you? Simply: “What is your name?”
For a long moment she said nothing. Her fingers tightened. Her eyes closed. And somewhere beneath all the names she had worn, something answered. Not Raven. Not Nightshade. Not Synin. Not Amber.A name that had been waiting in the darkness.
“Niamh.”
It did not feel like becoming someone new. It felt like coming home. What remains unknown. There is still a missing chapter. Niamh remembers Holmesk. She remembers her children. She remembers the woman she was before the disappearance. But the time between Holmesk and her rediscovery remains largely inaccessible.
There are no clear memories of those years. Only fragments. Dreams. Sensations. Occasional flashes that disappear before they can be understood. Perhaps the memories will return. Perhaps they will not. And perhaps there are people who know what happened who have remained silent all this time. That part of the story has not yet been written.
Niamh
Today, she carries all of her names.
Raven taught her survival. Nightshade taught her caution. Synin taught her to disappear. Amber taught her how to live when she no longer knew who she was.
And Niamh reminds her who she had been before all of it began.
She is still a physician. Still a mother. Still a survivor. Still a woman shaped by every road she has walked. But now she knows that her story did not begin when she was found. And it did not end when her memory was lost. There is still a missing chapter. There are still questions without answers. There are still six names written somewhere in the deepest part of her heart. And perhaps, one day, the rest of the story will return. Until then, she walks forward under the name she remembers.
Niamh.
The Gods may demand that we follow their path, but only by our own will can we find our true destiny. And perhaps that was the truth hidden beneath all the names all along. She was never truly lost. She was simply waiting to remember herself.
[11:25:47] Crow (melchior.wardell) approached Hecate quietly, his thoughts still on what he had found beneath Kazoo’s collar. He reached into one of the pockets of his belt and drew out the old, bloodstained piece of cloth. He held it out for her to investigate, watching her reaction carefully. “Scent.” His fingers closed around the cloth as he gave the familiar signal, then he slapped his thigh once. “Find.” He remained still, eyes reading Hecate as he waited to see whether the old scent meant anything to her.
[11:28:36] Hecate had escaped the sleen pit for a time to avoid the younger two sleens that had been harrassing her. Whisper and Hilda not surviving any run in’s with her teeth without a proper scolding in sleen style. But as Crow approached her the grumpy beast gave a deep rumble. Looking to the cloth that had been brought to her nose. She sniffed it, taking in the lingering scents before she exhaled and sneezed, the key that she had taken in the scent fully. Before she went to start to lurk around the camp, checking to see if the scent was here. Only to return back to Crow, if she was human she’d be shaking her head and looking frustrated. Instead she just sat down next to him with a grumping noise. The villain was not here, and thus they’d have to go else where.
[11:32:25] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched Hecate return, the answer apparent in the way she settled beside him with that irritated rumble. “So. Nothing here.” He crouched beside her, taking the cloth back carefully. “You found the scent. Just not the one who left it.” hE looked toward the surrounding camp, his expression thoughtful. “That means we go elsewhere.” He gave Hecate a brief pat along the side of her neck. “Good girl.” A pause, followed by the faintest hint of amusement. “Now let’s see if Kazoo’s mystery has left more than one trail.” It was perhaps odd how quick their bond had developed. He trusted the animal blind, but in return hoped to ensure her safety and wellbeing. “Let us see if Avarra might bring more recognition. I am unsure what we might learn there.” with that he pointed and gave signal to heel.
[11:38:07] Hecate rumbed as she had followed after Crow, she never was a fan of being shipped but she tolerated it. Ending there on the bricks of Avarra where her handler had brought her. Her nose sniffing the air, a deep rumble running through her. There. She was unsure of where the scent was but it lingered in the thick from the water. Whoever they were tracking was here. Smells layered on smells, it would take her a while to catch the proper scent.
[11:38:32] Crow (melchior.wardell) entered Avarra at an unhurried pace, the familiar weight of his weapons settling naturally against him. Hidden beneath his clothing rested Chaos and Order, his paired daggers, while the blade given to him by Yoko rode securely at his side. A coil of rope hung from his belt, with his whip secured where it could be reached without thought. He carried no weapon openly for display. He never had. At his side came Hecate, massive and watchful, her six-legged gait steady as she moved through the city. Crow gave her no command. She knew enough to remain close. His hand briefly rested near the hilt of Yoko’s blade before falling again. “Come, Hecate.” He continued deeper into Avarra, saying nothing more, letting the city decide what it would show him. Just as he would see if Hecate would pick up a scent.
[11:40:58] Hecate pressed her nose more to the stone of the stairs, something familiar had been this way. She caught Crow’s own smell but the scent she was on lingered there. Her nostrils flared once, twice, and then she looked towards Crow. A deep rumble, of ‘its here’ given to him in a more sleenish manner. Her claws dug into the cobble but she didn’t move into the city without Crow. However the smell, the taste of the scent was here. And so she shouldered him, that response of ‘i found it’ before she looked around. The smell was everywhere.
[11:43:54] Crow (melchior.wardell) felt Hecate’s shoulder against him and immediately stopped. His eyes lowered to the great sleen, studying the intensity of her attention. “You found it.” He glanced toward the stone beneath them, then slowly looked down the street. The scent was not faint. It was everywhere. “Interesting.” He crouched and offered Hecate the cloth again. “Take it. Show me where it is strongest.” His gaze swept across Avarra. “If the scent is everywhere…”His eyes narrowed. “…then we’re not looking for one trail. We’re looking for where it begins.”
[11:46:59] Hecate took a deep breath of the cloth as she heard Crow’s words. The large beast taking in the scent once more before she started a slow lumber, one of careful consideration as claws clicked upon the ground. Sounding off as she went to find whatever was going on. Deep rumbling noises escaping her as she turned her head from side to side. Her fangs revealed a moment before they settled. As she started to trace to where the smell started. Heading back towards the crash, trying to figure out wither it was that being the general origin. Her tail swishing behind herself in a frustrated manner.
[11:52:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) followed Hecate without interrupting her concentration. He watched the direction she chose, the slow deliberate pace, the occasional turn of her head as she worked the scent through the city. When she began leading them back toward the crash site, His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “So that’s where it begins.” He adjusted the rope at his belt and glanced toward the streets behind them. “The scent travelled from the wreck into Avarra.” Hecate’s frustrated tail earned a faint smirk. “I know.” He reached down briefly, touching the side of her neck. “You don’t like following an old trail.” He looked ahead toward the direction of the wreck. “But you found it.” He straightened, his hand resting momentarily near one of his hidden daggers. “Let’s see what else is waiting at the end of it.”
[11:56:00] Hecate rumbled as she heard Crow speaking to her. The human earning her head turning towards him as she chuffed like a diva. Her fangs opening in a frustrated hiss as she ended up where the smell of many animals and that single scent remained. A trail this old, but everwhere at the same time confused the sleen. However her massive head butted into Crow in a rare sign of affection before she waited at the gait. Watching, observing. She knew soon he’d re-open it and she’d find the quarry, though the process may take a day or two she was sure. Not that sleens weighed time like that but, when the gate opened did she start her hunt. Looking for the target that was lurking someplace. Though no one knew where.
[11:59:40] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched Hecate with a quiet amusement as the massive sleen gave that frustrated chuff, her fangs flashing in irritation at a trail that seemed to lead everywhere and nowhere at once. When her great head finally pressed into him, His hand settled against the side of her neck, fingers briefly working through the thick fur. “Yes. I know.” A faint smirk touched his mouth. “It is an inconvenient scent.” He glanced toward the gate, then back to her. The quarry was somewhere out there. Perhaps already watching. Perhaps unaware that something far more patient than a man had found its trail. He gave Hecate’s neck one final slow stroke before stepping toward the gate. “Then we hunt.” His hand reached for the latch, but he paused. “Not because we know where it is.” His eyes narrowed slightly toward the road beyond. “Because now we know where it came from.” The gate opened. He stepped aside, giving Hecate the first path beyond it. “Find it.” And he followed, leaving the choice of trail to the sleen.
[12:06:52] Hecate gave a deep grumble as she continued around, noticing something, the smell was layered. As though it was something drawing her around. She sniffed at things here, checked over things there. She was unsure to what she was looking for, quiet paces, small signs that she was getting frustrated. Yet she didn’t take it out on crow. Instead hissing at people who may step too close before leaving them alone. She allowed touches from Crow and mainly him alone, others if given permission could touch her at shorter periods. But he was an exception, he had always been respectful in his contact anyway. She scuffed her claws and then looked back to Crow. the scent was heaviest in the city, as she paced this way and that, trying to figure out where the trail would end but getting lost.
[12:13:10] Crow (melchior.wardell) slowed his pace as Hecate began to circle, watching the subtle changes in her movements rather than trying to direct her. The scuff of claws against stone drew his attention. Frustration. Not fear. Not uncertainty alone. She had found something, but the trail refused to behave like a proper trail. He crouched beside her when she finally looked back at him, resting one hand against the thick fur of her neck. “Layered.” His eyes moved across the city, taking in the streets, doorways, stalls and passing people. “That explains the confusion. Whatever left this scent didn’t simply pass through Avarra once.” He let his fingers move slowly through her fur, grounding her rather than restraining her. “Something brought the scent here. And something else carried it further.” His gaze returned to the streets. “Animals. People. Goods. Perhaps blood. Or someone deliberately moving it.” He straightened, his expression becoming thoughtful. “Don’t fight the trail, Hecate. If it is everywhere, then everywhere is information.” Hecate would have to find the thread herself. Hemerely intended to follow it.
[12:15:41] Rainy Francis-Vane (rainysky) walks up the stone steps, my feet silent and firm on the stones. With a breath, i look around and see, first the sheen, then the man, walking to the wall to give myself space as i breath in again
[12:17:39] Hecate continued to circle until Crow came to her. She turned her head to look at him with those sharp goden eyes before she chuffed at him. As though accepting what he was saying as she herself looked about once again. Trying to find the trail, where it started once more. Finding a scent once more she continued on her path. Only to pause at the sound of someone near by. Her head snapping the new scent before leaving the girl alone. The smell in Avarra leading her up and down the streets as she tried to find that threat of who she was looking for. Grumbles, chuffs, frustration. It was clear she was trying to do what she could, before looking to to the sky as a shadow flew over. The loose tarn and with that she left it alone. Continuing on her path once agian, searching.
[12:19:31] Crow (melchior.wardell) was no superhero, but his hearing was very well developed. And in his craft a six sense of being approached was trained well enough to feel the slave behind him. He cut a glance to her. His gaze not unfriendly but there was no warmth in it either. As the tarn flew he pondered if it was the same one he had seen days prior. Curious as a former tarnsman. “I know you can’t do miracles, Hecate, but you always do exceptional.” he soothed.
[12:21:57] Rainy Francis-Vane (rainysky) nods to the man, feeling the beasts eyes as well. with a soft, quiet voice, i offer “greetings Master” my eyes briefly looking to his, not in defiance, nor in fear, just in caution. quickly scanning my surroundings but allowing the moment to carry
[12:23:02] Hecate crawled over the wall towards the river and fountain, as though someone had washed their scent there, trying to figure out what it had been. There was no current sign of her target, whoever it was had little tidbits. She stuck her nose into a bush where a clue had been left. A mound of meat hiding in the town. It looked fresh enough like it had been to lure others there. As though it had been placed there a few times. She growled and pulled her head from the bush and sat down. The scent was heaviest here. It was whowever the target was had left this last. But the scent of rotten meat overpowered her scent. She was unsure to what would leave such things but disgust showed. The path ended here for now.
[12:27:31] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained still as Hecate settled, watching the great sleen rather than the people around them. The moment she withdrew her head from the bush, His attention shifted toward it. He approached slowly, crouching beside the mound without touching it. The smell reached him even before he could see the meat clearly. “Rotten.” His eyes narrowed. “Yet fresh enough to attract something.” He glanced toward the fountain, then the river, following the logic of what Hecate had discovered. Water. Washed scent. Meat placed deliberately. The same location used more than once. He looked back at Hecate. “You’ve done well.” His hand settled briefly against her neck, giving a slow scratch through the fur. “Someone has been feeding this place.” His gaze returned to the meat.”Or baiting it.” At Rainy’s greeting, He turned his head toward her. His expression remained calm, neither hostile nor particularly welcoming. “Greetings.” His eyes briefly assessed her, then returned to Hecate. “The trail ends here because the scent was deliberately buried beneath something stronger.” A faint, humorless smile appeared. “Whoever did this was either clever…”
[12:29:16] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): climbed the stairs from her house and crossed the courtyard, intending to check on the infirmary. A perfectly ordinary errand. She had almost begun to appreciate those again. Then a growl reached her as she emerged into the square. Gabbi stopped, one foot barely settled beside the other. Every hair upon the back of her neck stood to attention. Wonderful. At least some part of her was prepared for duty. The past few days had taught her enough to resist the urge to run. Sudden movement invited pursuit, and she had no intention of giving anything with teeth a reason to discover how poorly a small Physician ran in skirts. Nor would she risk a direct stare. For a moment, she considered continuing toward the infirmary with all the composure of a woman whose internal organs had not just attempted to retreat into her slippers. Instead, she slowly turned her head, looking over her shoulder without seeking the creature’s eyes. Please, let there be someone beside it. Someone on two legs, preferably holding a very substantial chain.She had meant to visit the infirmary in a professional capacity.
[12:31:31] Rainy Francis-Vane (rainysky) lets out a breath as the man’s attention shifted back to his task. my head tilting with curiosity, which seemed quickly, and purposely extinguished. scanning back to the docks, i step back before turning, to retrace my steps silently, a hint of urgency as i do
[12:35:03] Hecate turned her head at hte sound of a woman, lifting it, looking up to those ragid breaths before she looked back to the man who followed after her. Indeed no hefty chain attached too her. Her eyes met the woman before she turned her head back to Crow, chuffing as he scratched through her thick well kept fur. And with that she looked about, her nose working over time as the smell of something else approaching. However she didn’t approach Gabbi, she left the woman unharrassed.
[12:36:41] Crow (melchior.wardell) noticed the subtle change in Hecate before he noticed the woman approaching. The great sleen’s posture shifted, attention briefly drawn toward the square. His gaze followed.He recognized her. There was the faintest flicker of dry amusement as he took in the Physician’s careful attempt to appear as though nothing at all was wrong. “Physician.” His voice was quiet, carrying just enough to reach her without startling Hecate or the other sleen that was still in training. He moved half a step, placing himself naturally between Gabbi and the sleen without making any sudden gesture. “You’re safe.” A glance went toward Hecate. “Provided you don’t run.” He looked back at Gabbi, one eyebrow lifting slightly. “I imagine that was already going to be my advice.” he would point to both “These are mine. And fully under my supervision and responsibility. The other one … I think the one that your thrall knows very well.. I captured and took from the city.”
[12:39:06] Whisper was slow at getting up. She followed Hecate’s sent off the boat and up the stairs. She stopped and stared a few people before continuing on until reaching the courtyard. She approached Hecate only to pause seeing another person. A long stare. The slightest little growl before she climbed over the wall and passed Crow and Hecate and moving to push her muzzle down into the pond water for a drink.
[12:41:44] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): turned just enough to discover that one sleen had become two. There was Crow beside the black beast, however, which improved matters considerably. The absence of a hefty chain improved them somewhat less. Her eyes inadvertently met Hecate’s. Gabbi held still, releasing a careful breath when the beast turned away without charging. “Crow. You will be pleased to know that running was already losing favour with me.” Relief softened her shoulders at his explanation. “You captured the one Brokk rode? That is welcome news. I would prefer his next outing to involve walking.” Then a faint, rotten smell reached her nose. Her humour faltered. The docks came back to her: the wreck, the decomposing bodies offshore, and the discovery that the Killers had known for days before the stench finally alerted her. Surely she could wake up now. She had entertained this nightmare quite long enough. Her gaze followed the tan-striped sleen toward the pond before returning to Crow. “And the little one? Has the baby sleen been found? Perhaps it is still young enough to train.” A brief pause, her nostrils tightening. “Are you hunting something?” Her eyes shifted toward the black sleen’s working nose. “I suspect she smells it too.”
[12:45:55] Hecate chuffed and glanced to Crow once more before she looked back to Whisper, a deep rumble coming from her before she glanced over her shoulder back to crow. Waiting to see if he gave commands but also being patient as she sat there. Deep rumblings coming from her but not in aggression but disgust of the rotten meat. Her claws dug into the ground before she settled and turned to watch the young sleen behind her. Keeping it in line in her own manner.
[12:48:46] Crow (melchior.wardell) gave Gabbi a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly at her comment about Brokk. “That depends on your definition of captured. Kazoo is not captured. Not anymore.” he lifted his bandaged hand up for her to see. “He simply decided that leaving was less appealing than staying.” His other hand rested briefly against Hecate’s neck as the great beast continued to work the scent. “And the little one…” He shook his head. “I haven’t found it.” His eyes moved toward the fountain and the river beyond. “Though after what I’ve found here, I’m beginning to wonder whether we’re looking for one animal at all.” He nodded toward the mound of meat. “Hecate found this. Fresh enough to be deliberate, rotten enough to be unpleasant. The scent she’s following is strongest here, but it is layered beneath the smell of meat and water.” His attention returned to Gabbi. “The trail begins at the wreck. It enters the city. Someone or something has carried that scent through Avarra.” He looked back toward Whisper
[12:48:46] Crow (melchior.wardell): ready to correct her if she was overstepping the boundaries. He would signal for Hecate to leave the rotten meat for now. “Is there a thrall about that could clean up this mess?” he asks Gabbi. He felt himself already way more than the local undertaker in the city and wondered where those truly in power were.
[12:53:52] Whisper lapped at the pond. Feeling a bit more refreshed although irritated with the scents. She turned around with water dripping from her mouth and started to pace along side Hecate. She went up and down stepping through the flowers. A few times before finally settling herself down behind Hecate. Her gaze drifting from Crow to the woman he spoke with.
[12:55:55] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): allowed her shoulders to ease, though she maintained a respectful distance. Being excluded from the menu afforded her an opportunity to watch Hecate, following the chuffing and patient movements of her paws. To Gabbi, it looked rather as though the sleen wished to bury the offensive discovery. She sympathised. Her gaze briefly settled upon Crow’s bandaged hand. “I see staying required some negotiation.” The humour thinned as she listened. Meat deliberately placed, a scent leading from the wreck into the city… Her eyes returned to the disturbed earth. “Then perhaps hunger alone has not been bringing them through our streets.” A troubling possibility, though she would not dress suspicion as certainty. “Brokk is not with me, unfortunately. Whoever clears this should use a shovel and keep it well away from the water.” A faint smirk touched her mouth. “As for those with authority, these are neither my performing animals nor my travelling show. I merely tend whoever gets bitten.”She glanced across the square. “Perhaps seek the Commander, assuming he exists outside conversation. Failing that, one of the Heads of Caste. They at least have a voice upon the council, and this seems an excellent occasion to use it.”
[12:56:23] Hecate turned her head and chuffed at Whisper as she came closer before she herself laid down next to the other. Ignoring the meat smell as the two people talked she looked patiently to her handler. Her eyes taking in his movements. However she was quiet, for the most part besides hissing and chuffing that was typical for a beast such as her. Patience showing upon her features of an old wise beast.
[13:02:26] Crow (melchior.wardell) glanced toward Whisper as the second sleen settled beside Hecate. The two great beasts were suddenly quiet, almost statuesque, their earlier irritation replaced by the patient stillness of hunters waiting for their handler to decide what came next. Gabbi’s words drew a faint, knowing smile. “Negotiation,” He repeated, looking briefly at his bandaged hand. “That is a generous description of being bitten.” His gaze returned to the two sleen. “Kazoo has made his position on ownership remarkably clear. I suspect the negotiation will continue.” He listened as Gabbi suggested the Commander and the Heads of Caste. His expression became more thoughtful. “The Commander.” He let the title sit for a moment. “Yes. Assuming Avarra has managed to keep one. You’re right about one thing, Physician. Hunger may explain why a beast follows a scent.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “It doesn’t explain why the scent was put here.” His attention shifted to Whisper and Hecate. He studied their calm posture, then the direction both animals had been facing before settling. “You’ve done enough for now.” releasing them from their position, but as ever under his watch and supervision. His gaze lifted toward Gabbi as he moved over the wall.
[13:07:00] Whisper responded a chuff towards Hecate. She moved her muzzle curiously through the air then towards Crow but then towards the woman. She was settled for now but once released for her position she gets up and goes back to pacing.
[13:11:08] Hecate grumbled softly as she saw the movement from Crow, standing up she scaled the wall easily for the six legged creature was a forest sleen. Up and over she went before she looked back to the other forest sleen, chuffing at her in a ‘come on’ manner as she waited, seeing if she’d have to manually pull the other sleen over the ridge. Yet she still did not approach Gabby. Sensing the fear from the other before she nudged crow just once. A warning, the smell was starting to grow once more.
[13:12:52] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): glanced at his bandaged hand. “Then I trust Kazoo will forgive me if I favour your side of the negotiation. I hope one of our Physicians has already attended to that. A clean bandage is reassuring, though I am professionally obliged to care what is beneath it.”She watched Whisper rise, keeping her movements unhurried and allowing the sleen room. The faint smell of decay still reached her, though she could not see its source. Her nose wrinkled slightly beneath her veil. “No. Hunger accounts for the beasts following it. How it came to be here is another matter.” Her brow creased. “First the wreck, now a trail into the city. I was rather hoping our troubles had washed ashore by accident.” As Crow moved over the wall, she turned slightly to keep him in view. “I set out this morning to check the infirmary. A modest ambition, you might think. Yet here I stand discussing suspicious meat while congratulating myself upon not becoming any.” Her gaze flicked toward the square before returning to him.“If someone is encouraging these creatures into the streets, I suspect my quiet morning will become a very busy afternoon.” Her mouth tightened.
[13:17:56] Crow (melchior.wardell) felt the single nudge against him and immediately stopped. The change in Hecate was subtle, but he had learned long ago not to ignore subtle things. His eyes moved toward the forest sleen. The scent. Stronger again. He did not raise his voice. “Physician. Stay here for the moment. And yes an apprentice under supervision of Neeve stitched the wound and bandaged it.” There was nothing to further alarm her in his tone, only certainty. “The scent has changed.” His eyes returned to Hecate. “Whatever she has found, it is closer now.” He studied the animal “Easy.” He turned to Gabbi “I think they have picked up the scent. I will continue the hunt in hope to find more answers than questions.” He turned to Hecate “Find it. Don’t chase it.” His attention hardened as he looked into the terrain beyond the wall. “Something has come back.”
[13:19:17] Whisper watched Hecate. She sudden picking up one the ques from her body language. She would move to the wall and instead of climbing over as she did earlier she would also leap over. She herself wasn’t aware of what Hecate was locked on to but only that something was amist.
[13:21:03] Hecate turned her head towards Crow, her signal having gotten through as she grumbled. Deep rumbling noises as she was clearly upset at whatever trail she had been following. Yet the smell was strong in the air, something approaching. She chuffed at Whisper and moved off, clearly expecting the other sleen to follow after her as her nails clicked and clacked, the sleen starting off in a deliberate manner, clearly intent upon her search. She would not chase but…..that didn’t mean the target may not flee. She was unsure what was to happen for now? She stalked. Headed back down to the ship crash.
[13:22:19] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): gave a small nod at the mention of Neeve. “Then your hand has had proper attention. Good.” His next instruction earned a rather different response. One brow rose as the second sleen disappeared over the wall, leaving her decidedly short of company on her side of it. “Crow, a moment. If something has returned, I fail to see the advantage of remaining here alone while you depart with both sets of teeth.” Her voice remained measured, pitched low enough not to distract the animals. Fear had made her attentive; it had not rendered her agreeable to being abandoned beside the flowerbeds.“I will keep clear of their work, and I have no intention of blundering ahead of you. But I am not staying in this garden by myself.” She gathered the loose fall of her skirts, looking for a passage around the wall rather than attempting the sleens’ route.“A stronger scent need not mean whatever left it is directly ahead. The breeze can change, and neither of us has established what might approach from behind.” Her green eyes returned to him, steady now. “By all means, continue your hunt. Kindly account for one small Physician who intends to reach the infirmary in possession of all her limbs.”
[13:23:21] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched the two forest sleens disappear over the wall, his expression tightening as Hecate’s deliberate pace carried her back toward the wreck. That was not a hunt driven by hunger. Hecate was tracking something she expected to find. Crow crossed the wall after them, landing lightly on the other side before pausing. He listened. No command to chase. No command to attack. Only the quiet rhythm of claws moving over earth. “Good girl,” he murmured, more acknowledgment than praise. “Keep the trail.” he glanced over his shoulder to Gabbi “I wish you well, physician.”
[13:23:47] Whisper ‘s ears perked up hearing the chuff. Smallest little growl in her chest as she would follow after Hecate.
[13:26:48] Sabrina was quietly minding her own business, FOR ONCE, tending to a wound on her belly that was juuust starting to get infected. There was a handy dandy hole where the fabric had torn away, so it was nice and easy. She froze though, catching a scent on the air. Sleen. That scent was unmistakable. She’d start to try to slip away, not that avoiding sleen was particularly possible at this point, but the brain does funny things when in flight or fight.
[13:27:46] Hecate followed the trail, to where they had been searching, only to find something strong in the bushes. Fangs revealed, as the scent of her target was all to strong here. Her head lowered to the ground as she followed after. Click click click, went her claws on the steps, the smell fresh and new. And soon upon exiting the last gate she nearly bolted around the corner. And there it was. The target, the smell permiating off of her as ears went back and front paws splayed in an act of aggression and warning. Should her victim run she would go to block the path, growling to whisper in a clear dominant manner, to block the other side. Two herding and hunting animals hopefully acting as one to block Sabrina’s way.
[13:31:40] Crow (melchior.wardell) stopped the instant Hecate rounded the corner. There. His eyes fixed on the woman ahead as the scent finally made sense. Hecate’s posture told him everything before words were necessary, the lowered head, splayed forepaws, ears back, the deep warning rumble. He did not draw a weapon. Instead, his attention flicked toward Whisper as the second sleen moved into position. “Good.” Quiet. Controlled. He stepped forward just enough to establish himself behind Hecate, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “Hold.” His gaze remained on Sabrina. “You’ve been found.” There was no accusation in his voice yet. Only observation. He studied her carefully, the torn clothing, the wound at her belly, the way she was trying to retreat. His eyes narrowed. “You’re injured and if you move that will be the least of your worry.” he cautioned. “These sleens can hunt and heard.” he gave a small signal to Hecate and showed Whisper the one for ‘to stay’. But with only making a fist he could have them spring to action. “So I suggest you don’t run.” His voice remained almost conversational. “Now…Would you care to explain why the trail from the wreck ends with you?”
[13:32:52] Whisper watched Hecate and she noticed something in the foliage. She hunched down and her ears went back and her lowered body would start to move in from around the left as Hecate went right. Low growl as she took in the scent of what Hecate was focused on, a girl. She looked almost ready to pounce. Her tail whipping around a bit behind her. Her eye caught the signal to stay and she froze in her spot
[13:35:02] Sabrina quite soon found she was blocked off, a slee to her left, sleen to her right and a Crow in the center. She did back up slightly, but then she heard Crow’s suggestion to…not move and froze. She was shaking with terror, pale and wide eyed.
“U-um.” was all she managed in regards to his questions, her eyes daring between the two sleen, looking like she’d love to dash away but even she wasn’t that dumb… [13:35:27] Sassy (lysander.eguzkia): sleen* darting*
[13:36:43] Hecate rumbled softly and held still, the blocking of the way to the cave as she herself gave an irritated noise. As though being held back was annoying. She could smell the blood, and the wound. Her teeth flickered as she stayed there, crouched. Muscles rippling under her fur as she waited, watching. Yet she didn’t break training, and stayed there. She was a deterrent as was Whisper. As Sabrina stayed still, so too did she. Though an eye always rested upon Crow
[13:40:47] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied Sabrina for several quiet seconds. The fear was obvious. More importantly, so was the injury. His eyes briefly moved to Hecate, then to Whisper. Both sleens were holding position, but neither looked remotely convinced that the matter was settled. “Easy.” His voice remained calm as he gave the command again, directed toward both animals. He took one measured step toward Sabrina, deliberately keeping his hands where she could see them. “You don’t need to run.” His gaze dropped briefly toward the wound at her belly before returning to her face. “And you don’t need to answer quickly.” he stated with sarcasm. “But I need to warn you. I am not the type to repeat myself very often.” A slight tilt of his head. “And I often deal with things quite permanently.” he added in warming. “Now we can do this in several ways. You can walk with me back to the infirmary so you can be checked and answer questions. You can try to flee. If my sleens can catch you, I will not hold them back. If you think you outsmarted them. I will take my bow and aim pretty well to your head. So … what will it be?” His expression hardened slightly.
[13:42:43] Whisper held a crouch position. Her body flinched at the meer ‘um’ sound that slipped from the girl. She was so tempted to pounce but held herself in place. Her ears back low threatening growl. She heard the Easy and just held her place. Her gaze flicked to Crow then the girl.
[13:45:19] Hecate too stayed in position, but she didn’t attack. Waiting for Crow’s signals she stayed there. The growling had quieted for now but she was still on alert and on the job. Giving the girl a chance to obey or be hunted. The options where very few but wait she did. Her tail slowly snaking behind herself.
[13:45:39] Sabrina shuddered as she heard that growled warning from Hecate, eyes widening more”Pl-please! Call them off and I’ll speak, Sir!” she promised, her voice a stammer as she shook with terror.
She swallowed hard again “I-I will come with you, Sir.” she replied, that terror only dawning richer on her at his words.
[13:47:29] Crow (melchior.wardell) gave signal to both animals to heard her with him. A snap of his fingers to alarm them that they needed to remain focused. “Then by all means come and walk with me. ” he tells her as his hand waved towards the entrance of the city “And again … if you walk with me nothing happens. If you disengage … they will know what to do.” he cautioned her once more. He wouldn’t yet question her for now.
[13:49:16] Whisper quietly follows keeping her eyes locked on the the girl.
[13:50:23] Hecate trailed after, she was attentive and intense, her gold eyes staring as she stalked after, claws tapping upon the ground. She was following along at a distance, enough to make sure nothing could slip past should they turn and run, but also that she didn’t ram into anyone should they stop.
[13:50:47] Sabrina swallowed hard and nodded at his word s”I-I understand, Sir…” she said, moving to walk with him, the she-urt clearly quite happily following right behind him at his pace. Well. Not happily, but…she was still following. Her pounded in her chest, quieting considering her options as she followed in silence. There wasn’t any claims of innocence, nor attempts to barter. Not yet, anyway.
[13:52:20] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied her and noted that she was sort of injured. “Let us hope a physician is there. So you can not only be answering questions but also get that looked at.” as he indicated the injury on her belly.
[13:53:38] Kool Sim bell (wall): Crow (melchior.wardell) ♫ ◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡ ♪ PHYSICIANS: A visitor is seeking assistance with the Physicians ♫ ◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡◠◡ ♪
[13:57:50] Whisper stands off to the side watching the girl. Her tenses at the sound of the bell and growls a little. She otherwise kepts her eyes glued on the girl.
[14:01:39] Sabrina saw the two sleen diverge, opening up an exit for her. She was certain no matter what, death was likely coming for her. There was amoment where her body just seemed to twitch, like she was trying to work out what to do…
And then she turned and bolted.
[14:01:49] Crow (melchior.wardell): Go !
[14:01:53] Beast Claws LR Weapons 3.34 (only beast allowed): IRunOnCoffee Resident has enabled the Claws fight [14:02:06] LR Dagger of Assassin [dagger 25%] 2.24: Drawn [14:02:09] LR Dagger of Assassin [dagger 25%] 2.24: Sheathed [14:02:41] zCS ⚔ IRunOnCoffee Resident captured Lysander Eguzkia. ⚔
[14:03:43] Crow (melchior.wardell) let the animals have their hunt and fun and when the captive falls to the floor, only then he approaches. He takes his dagger and starts to roam her hair as he cuts through fabric and ribbons to disarm her.
[14:04:11] Hecate chased after, the second she heard the go command she was after the woman, lurching after, despite the turning and chasing of the girl she took her down with a well placed claw aimed to slam her into a building. She didn’t gobble up the girl but instead stood there, growling and snarling a warning, that should she move again before crow got to her, she would be ended. AS crow came she backed up, waiting….watching. And laying in wait. [14:04:22] Amoura Vale (irunoncoffee): ((wall not building*))
[14:04:38] Crow (melchior.wardell) would take a long piece of rope as he would take her by her wrists and starts to bind her. He was sufficient, quick even. He had a special signature knot that was hard to master as he tied her wrists together.
[14:05:03] Beast Claws LR Weapons 3.34 (only beast allowed): IRunOnCoffee Resident has disabled the Claws fight [14:05:18] Crow (melchior.wardell) would take another piece of rope as to tie her feet as to ensure that she was no longer very mobile. “So foolish.” he muttered as he tied them tightly together.
[14:05:25] zCS Melchior Wardell tries to bind Lysander Eguzkia. [14:05:27] zCS – Lysander Eguzkia has been bound by Melchior Wardell. – [14:06:12] zCS Melchior Wardell leashed Lysander Eguzkia.
[14:06:15] Whisper chased after the girl but Hecate was hot on her trail. Once the girl was down she hovered near growling and snapping but didn’t make a move to attack. She sat back and watched.
[14:07:29] Sabrina had no weapons nor anything nasty, the woman soon stripped however. She lay there wheezing and clearly in pain, bleeding from the claw marks.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks from that agony and the fact she was…well and truly caught. About the worst that could happen to a she-urt. She had a strong feeling that things were about to become…very bad for her future wellbeing as well, her pallor quickly paling.
[14:08:49] Hecate rumbled and turned her head to Whisper, chuffing once before looking back to Crow and his new victim. She stayed back, the human had it under control. Her teeth twisting as she ignored the blood on her claws. She had done her job and now she waited.
[14:10:19] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s expression changed the moment Sabrina made her choice. The long chain came free with a quiet metallic rasp. He fastened it securely to the bindings before taking the remaining length into his hand. “So incredibly stupid.” His voice was low now, stripped of the earlier patience. He looked over the woman, taking in the worsening wound and the condition she had put herself in by running. “Here you are… more injured than you were.” The chain tightened just enough to make the point, not enough to cause harm. “And you ran out of my kindness.” His gaze settled on Sabrina, cold and unreadable before he would look at the two sleens. His eyes with appreciation to Hecate “Stay.” Then back to Sabrina. “Now we find out what you know.” His voice remained quiet, but whatever warmth had been present earlier was gone. “And this time, you will answer me. For any question unanswered I will cut my dagger deeper. Is this understood ?”
[14:12:47] Whisper heard the stay growled a little but stayed. Her ears going from flat to alert. She lowered herself. Slightly annoyed, a bit worked up from the chase but remained obedient.
[14:13:42] Sabrina was shaking with a combination of pain and terror, the blood from the vicious claw mark beginning to seep along the ground. She nodded at his words, the woman certainly not looking the best. She didn’t want that dagger dug into her skin on top of everything else, so she was apparently ready to cooperate now. Fully…The assassin and his sleen were very…persuasive.
[14:17:34] Hecate stared forth, her tail slowly flickering from side to side as teeth bared. However she stayed, waiting, watching, not moving. She obeyed Crow and a glance to Whisper to make sure the other was staying as well. But they obeyed without other question.
[14:20:09] Crow (melchior.wardell) noticed the blood first. His eyes dropped to the ground, following the thin trail for a moment before returning to Sabrina. The anger in his expression did not disappear, but it became controlled again. “Good.” He gave the chain a little slack. “Cooperation.” He stepped closer, examining the claw wound without touching it. “You are bleeding more than you were when I found you. That makes this conversation considerably less convenient.” A glance toward Hecate, then Whisper, both still under command. He looked back to Sabrina. “I am going to ask questions. You are going to answer them.” His tone was quiet and absolute. “And when we’re finished, I will decide whether that wound needs a Physician.” He didn’t give her any comfort or room. She was tied and still laying on the floor. “First question.” His eyes settled on her. “Did you place the meat by the fountain? And before you answer, remember that Hecate my sleen, followed your scent all the way from the wreck. So don’t waste either of our time by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
[14:22:47] Whisper lays down and watches. Her eyes drifting from Crow to the girl awaiting the next command. Still a bit irritated and worked up.
[14:23:21] Sabrina swallowed hard as she caught his demeanor, saw that anger. The sleen were standing nearby and his dagger was out. She was naked and bound and while she’d been a bit of a dumbass in a final attempt for freedom, she wasn’t prepared to be stupid any longer. She nodded at his statement, that she would answer.
When he asked about the meat she swallowed hard, looking more afraid and stammered out “I-I did, Sir…”
[14:23:54] Hecate chuffed at Whisper. Before looking back to Crow, a clear sign to settle down from the older sleen. However even she seemed on edge. The chase having made her more upset. However even she was trying to settle so she didn’t take it out onto the others.
[14:25:43] Crow (melchior.wardell) held her gaze for a moment after the admission. No satisfaction crossed his face. Only the quiet calculation of someone who had just confirmed a suspicion. “I thought so.” His eyes shifted toward the direction of the fountain.”Why?” The single word was calm, but carried weight. He crouched slightly, bringing himself nearer to her level without softening the authority in his voice. “Was the meat meant for the sleen? Or was it meant to draw something else into the city?” he continued with his interrogation “And the scent you are carrying…” His eyes narrowed.”Did you come from the wreck?” He allowed the questions to hang rather than firing them at her one after another.”Start with the meat. Tell me what you were trying to accomplish.”
[14:28:16] Whisper chuffed in response to Hecate. She tilts her head slightly and silently drags herself closer to the pinned down girl.
[14:29:39] Sabrina was starting to feel warm and floaty as the blood continued to seep from her. Her senses beginning to dull slowly. She heard his question, seemed to take a long time to respond to it, almost seemed like she wasn’t about to respond at all.
“Wanted all the animals to come. Avarra magistrate had me unfairly earnotched. hadn’t stolen anything.” she murmured, revealing the intent of well, everything. Revenge. Simple, pure, devastating. “Never stole anything.”
[14:32:57] Hecate turned upon Whisper the second she tried to creep forwards, a singular paw going to slap the other sleen before she settled again, waiting, there had been no order to move! With that she waited, watching, seeing what was to be ordered next.
[14:40:45] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s attention followed the apprentice (NPC) as he took the leash and hauled the injured woman toward the infirmary. He watched for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Careful with her,” he called after him. “She’s injured. I want her alive and able to answer questions.” He then turned back toward the two sleens. The hard edge in his expression eased somewhat as he looked between Hecate and Whisper. The mystery of the cloth still bothered him. It had carried the scent that led them through Avarra, yet somehow that same scent had ultimately led them to Sabrina. He would have to examine it properly later. For now, the hunt was finished. He raised two fingers and snapped them sharply. “Come.” He turned toward the path away from the square, expecting the two forest sleens to follow. There was no urgency now. No trail to pursue, no quarry to corner. Only two hunters who had done their work. A faint smirk crossed his face. “You both earned something better than rotten meat.” He glanced over his shoulder at them. “And preferably something that isn’t trying to eat you back.” ((goodnight))
[01:16:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) entered the compound quietly, his attention immediately settling on Kazoo. He did not approach the sleen directly. Trust, he had learned, was easier to build when the beast was given a choice. Today, however, he needed answers. The injury needed proper examination, and the old collar beneath Kazoo’s fur had raised more questions than it had answered. He stated “Heel.” as he spotted the Sleen in hope the command was known.
[01:18:38] Kazoo had slept badly, curled deep within the straw of the shed as old memories stalked his dreams. Creaking timber. Salt. Iron bars. Men shouting. For a time Kazoo was back aboard the ship, trapped within his cage as the sea tossed it violently about, until came the crack of timber, freezing water and the terror of the wreck. He woke with a violent snarl, all six legs scrambling beneath him as his jaws snapped at bars that were no longer there. Only straw. The shed. The morning. His breathing gradually slowed, though the sharp musk of an agitated sleen filled the little shelter. Something pressed against his neck beneath the thick fur. The old collar. Kazoo twisted his head, teeth flashing as if he might somehow bite the hated thing from himself. He had escaped the cage and survived the shipwreck, yet still wore another creature’s claim around his throat. Then a voice reached him. “Heel.” Kazoo froze. His head turned slowly toward Crow, nostrils widening as he caught the man’s scent. The word was known. Somewhin that old life, someone had taught the beast exactly what it meant. A low, displeased rumble rolled from his chest. For several Ihn he simply stared at Crow, almost daring him to repeat it. Then, grudgingly, Kazoo crawled from the straw and moved toward him with that low six-legged gait, stopping close enough to technically obey. His flat head lifted toward the man, lips curling just enough to expose the tips of his fangs. He remembered the command. That did not mean he had to like the one giving it.
[01:23:27] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained still as Kazoo emerged from the straw, watching the beast rather than the collar he so clearly despised. The command had reached something buried deep within him. He noticed. His gaze moved briefly over the sleen’s posture, the uneven weight on his injured side, the tension beneath his fur. Then back to those exposed fangs. “Good.” He did not reach for him. Instead, Crow turned and walked slowly toward the training pit, trusting the command rather than forcing the beast to follow.
[01:36:27] Kazoo grunted a little. He followed a few paces behind, stopping every now and then to steal a snap at the air or some urt running by. Simply because he wanted to, not because he was hungry. He was thinking he could run at Crow’s legs for a few moments but this passed. Only just. Pain won through over the simple need to want to kill everyone or everything in sight. Then came the training pit. The cages. The weird spiky objects in the corner. The beast froze. He growled and thumped his tail again. If Crow thought he was going in there – he really should think again. His whole posture changed.. Snarls, head moving from side to side
[01:38:43] Crow (melchior.wardell) stood in the center near the crates that held livestock. He stopped and reached to one of the crates with two vulo’s. Letting them out so the sleen could take them. He waited, his hands deliberately visible and away from the whip. “You’ve already decided I am not your enemy.” A faint tilt of his head. “Let’s see if you can decide I’m worth trusting.” He took one step backward into the pit himself, never taking his eyes from Kazoo. “And if you behave…” The faintest trace of amusement touched his voice. “…you may even keep all six legs today.” As he moved toward the edge of the training pit and stopped, leaving plenty of space between himself and the sleen. “Come on. You eat. ” His hand remained away from the whip. Only after Kazoo had entered the pit would he need the next part. From another pouch he quietly prepared a small dart, keeping it hidden for now. The sedative would not harm the beast. It would simply make him slightly dazed long enough for Crow to examine the injury and, if Kazoo allowed it, finally investigate that mysterious collar. Crow watched the sleen carefully. “Trust me just this once.” A faint dry smile touched his face. “I promise the food is considerably better than an urt.” He noted the gaze towards the cages and he shook his head “Those aren’t for you.” he stated as if he could read the animals mind.
[01:44:50] Kazoo remained planted outside the pit, six legs stiff beneath him as his head swung from Crow to the cages and back again. The growl never quite stopped. He remembered this man. Remembered his scent, his voice and that he had been near him before without bringing pain. That counted for something in the simple, suspicious workings of the sleen’s mind. But cages counted for something too. Cages meant ships. Iron. No escape. His tail struck the ground once with an angry thump. Then the vulos fluttered loose. Kazoo’s head snapped toward them instantly, jaws opening slightly as instinct wrestled with memory. Crow had entered the pit himself. He had not reached for the whip. He had not tried to force Kazoo inside. The sleen snorted heavily, almost as if deeply offended by the entire arrangement. Slowly, one paw crossed into the pit. Then another. His body followed low to the ground, all six legs carrying him forward with deliberate caution, though his eyes kept flicking toward those cages. He stopped just inside and stared at Crow for several Ihn. Trust him? Perhaps. Eat? Definitely. Suddenly he exploded forward after one of the vulos, jaws snapping for it with considerably more enthusiasm than was necessary. If Crow wanted him in the pit, then Crow could watch what happened to things foolish enough to run from a sleen. Adds that of course he was lumbering like he was still in pain on one side!
[01:50:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched Kazoo cross into the pit, noting immediately the way the beast favoured one side. The pain had not escaped him, despite Kazoo’s determination to pretend otherwise. Then the vulos moved. He barely had time to follow the motion before Kazoo launched himself after it, the sudden burst of speed made considerably less impressive by the uneven hitch in his gait. It amused him. “Of course.” He folded his arms, watching the sleen make short work of his chosen prey. “You can barely walk properly, but apparently that is no obstacle when something decides to fly.” He waited until Kazoo had finished before producing another piece of meat. He tossed it deeper into the pit, away from the cages. “Eat.” His gaze remained on the injured side. “And then you are going to let me look at that leg. You may growl.” The faintest smirk. “You may glare.” He reached slowly toward his pouch, keeping the movement deliberate and visible. “But you are not biting me again.”
[01:58:10] Kazoo had caught the vulo eventually, injury or not, crushing it between those enormous jaws with absolutely no concern for manners. He was a beast, after all. What did Crow expect? When the other meat was tossed deeper into the pit, Kazoo’s head turned to follow it before his gaze shifted slowly back to the man. No. That was already dead. Where was the fun in that? With what could almost be called an insultingly dismissive look, the sleen lowered himself right where he stood instead, stubbornly refusing to move another step. His lips pulled back to bare his fangs at Crow, eyes dropping briefly to the man’s bandaged hand. He remembered that. Remembered the scent and taste of the blood he had drawn. His attention sharpened when Crow’s hand moved toward the pouch. Nothing escaped the sleen’s notice now. Kazoo’s head shot forward with a vicious snap of his jaws, not quite close enough to bite, but certainly close enough to make his opinion clear. Whatever Crow was reaching for, Kazoo had already decided that if he didn’t like it, the man’s other hand might soon require a matching bandage.
[02:04:38] Crow (melchior.wardell) stopped the instant Kazoo’s jaws snapped toward him. He did not retreat, but neither did he make the mistake of reaching closer. His eyes dropped briefly to those teeth, then to the sleen’s injured side. “Message received.” Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the pouch and held it where Kazoo could see it. “You don’t want me touching you. Yet.” He crouched slightly, keeping his posture relaxed. “But that leg needs attention, and pretending otherwise will not make it heal.” He glanced toward the meat Kazoo had ignored. “Stubborn.” A faint smirk. “I can work with stubborn.” He reached into the pouch again, this time deliberately revealing the small dart before placing it on the ground between them. “No tricks.” His gaze returned to Kazoo. “This will make you sleepy. Nothing more. You will wake up with the same number of teeth, legs, and opinions.” He nudged the dart slightly with one finger. “And I will finally be able to see what happened to you. You decide when.” He then sat back on his heels, making no further attempt to approach. He was willing to wait and quite certain that when it came to patience, his own training on that subject had been thorough. “I have all the time.” He was very much aware that all the words were hardly understood, but it was how he comforted the animals in his care. Make them feel as if they were still in charge of all what was important.
[02:18:54] Kazoo grunted at him as he retreated his hand from the pouch. Kazoo had won. Momentarily. When Crow reached into it again, another growl rolled from deep within the sleen’s chest. Most of the man’s words meant nothing to him, but two caught his attention. Dart. Sleep. He wanted neither. He had only just woken up! His tail slammed against the ground as he stared at the little object Crow placed between them. Kazoo’s head lowered, nostrils working as he sniffed cautiously in its direction without getting any closer. Sleep meant vulnerability. Cages. Waking somewhere he had not chosen to be. No. His ears flattened and his gaze shifted from the dart to Crow, then back again. Yet the man wasn’t advancing. That confused him. Kazoo gave another irritated snort before deliberately stretching his injured leg out in front of himself, almost seeming to acknowledge the very thing Crow wanted to examine. Then his jaws opened in a wide display of teeth. Look all you wanted from over there. Coming closer was an entirely different matter.
[02:28:04] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied the sleen in silence. The extended leg was not surrender, but it was something. His eyes moved carefully over the limb without advancing. “Better.” He left the dart exactly where it was. “You understand more than you pretend to.” He shifted slightly, lowering himself so he was less imposing, his gaze remaining on the injured leg. “I won’t take your choice away. But if you show me the leg, I’ll respect the offer.” Of course he was no fool. The animal had given him little choice. He could not approach it let alone touch it and yet that was exactly what was needed to see that things would be addressed. He could enforce it. Use rope to restrain the animal but he wanted to build trust and with it that meant patience. Letting the animal know that he wouldn’t back down, but also not force it to something it did not wish or was meant to. It is why Hecate was so damned loyal and well behaved. The bond of trust had been a slow process but it had been forged almost like iron. Crow very much aware that it was still a sleen with natural instincts just as he was. He waited, making no attempt to touch Kazoo. “I might be able to help you with that leg … but you should allow me to touch you … ” he started the negotiation, for as far the sleen understood such.
[02:35:03] Kazoo kept his head low, eyes fixed upon Crow as that growl continued to rumble deep within his chest. He did understand. Perhaps not every word, but tone, posture and intent were things a beast knew well. Slowly, Kazoo shifted his weight onto his other legs and lifted the injured paw from the ground, holding it awkwardly before him. His head dipped once toward Crow, almost a nod, though the warning rumble never stopped. It was as close to permission as the stubborn sleen was willing to give. He would allow the man nearer. Perhaps even allow him to touch the injured limb. His eyes flicked pointedly toward the pouch, however, then back to Crow as his lips twitched away from his fangs. The message was equally clear. The paw was offered. Trust was being tested. But if that dart came back out of the pouch, negotiations were very definitely over.
[02:39:07] Crow (melchior.wardell) noticed the pointed glance toward the pouch and gave the faintest nod. “Understood.” Slowly, he reached into the pouch but deliberately pulled out a clean cloth instead. The dart remained where it was. He moved closer, one careful step at a time, stopping well short of crowding Kazoo. “Good choice.” He lowered himself beside the offered paw, studying it before making contact. His fingers moved carefully over the fur around the injury, testing for heat and swelling without pressing directly on the wound. His gaze remained on the sleen’s face. “You gave me your trust. I won’t spend it foolishly.” He gently examined the paw, searching for anything embedded, broken, or badly swollen. “And after I see what you’ve done to yourself…” The corner of his mouth lifted. “…we’ll discuss that collar.” he would look about himself seeing there was fresh water. “Now I first need to clean your fur to truly see how bad it is.” he would again move slowly. Building trust was to allow the animal to see what he did and to read the intentions behind it.
[02:48:50] Kazoo grunted, a sharp hiss escaping him when Crow took the offered paw and began examining it. Pain was hardly new to the sleen, but allowing someone close enough to find its cause certainly was. His head remained low, eyes following every movement of Crow’s hands while a warning growl vibrated steadily in his throat. The sight of the dart earlier stirred older memories of being owned, handled and caged. Kazoo shook his great head irritably, making the tight collar shift beneath his fur and that strange little compartment attached to it knock softly against his neck. A fly chose that moment to buzz past his nose and his jaws snapped after it with a vicious crack before his attention immediately returned to Crow. The paw was swollen and tender. Whether it had come from the fight with Hecate, striking the stalls, or something else entirely was lost somewhere in the blur. Since escaping that cage on the wrecked ship, Kazoo had done little more than survive as he had for many years before it. When Crow’s fingers found a particularly sore place, the paw jerked instinctively in his grasp and Kazoo’s lips peeled back from his fangs. Yet he didn’t bite. Instead, after a moment, he reluctantly offered the paw again, watching Crow closely as if to say he had exactly one more chance.
[02:57:22] Crow (melchior.wardell) felt the paw jerk beneath his fingers and immediately eased the pressure, making no attempt to hold it in place. The flash of teeth earned only a calm glance.“There.” His voice remained quiet. “I found it.” He waited as Kazoo reluctantly offered the paw again, then resumed his examination more gently, working around the swelling rather than forcing the sore point. “Bruised. Swollen. I don’t feel a break.” His thumb moved carefully along the limb, testing the joints one at a time.“You’ve been walking on this far too long.” He glanced briefly toward the collar as it shifted beneath the fur, the small compartment making a faint sound against the metal. His attention returned to Kazoo. “And you’ve been carrying that for longer than you’ve been carrying this injury.” He released the paw rather than keeping hold of it. “One problem at a time.” A faint smirk. “Today, we start with the leg.” He reached for the clean cloth, leaving the dart completely untouched.“You didn’t bite me. I’ll consider that progress.” with the wet cloth he slowly started to clean the fur so he could see if the pain was still from a wound that still needed to be closed.
[03:09:56] Kazoo watched Crow release the paw and gave a low grunt, almost approving of the fact the man hadn’t tried to hold him. Progress worked both ways, apparently. When the wet cloth approached, Kazoo immediately lowered his head, nostrils flaring as a growl began again, but he kept the paw where it was. The first touch made his muscles tense. As Crow cleaned away the dirt and dried blood tangled through the fur, the cause became clearer. A cut ran across the thick pad of the paw, not terribly deep but angry and swollen from being walked upon, and buried near one edge was a small splinter of wood. Kazoo hissed when the cloth passed over it and his jaws opened threateningly, head turning toward Crow’s hand. Still, he didn’t bite. Not yet. Instead his claws dug into the ground and he endured another pass of the cloth before giving Crow a look that suggested his patience was not limitless. His head shook again, making the little compartment upon his collar rattle against the metal. That seemed to irritate him almost as much as the paw did. He snapped uselessly toward his own neck before settling again with a disgruntled huff. Crow had been permitted to find the problem. Fixing it, however, might require considerably more negotiation.
[03:16:49] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s attention settled on the exposed cut, his fingers pausing when he spotted the small splinter lodged near the edge of the pad. “There you are.” He glanced briefly at Kazoo’s bared teeth. “I’m going to remove that.” His tone remained calm, almost conversational. “You may object. I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” He reached for a pair of clean tweezers, keeping his movements slow and visible. He waited a moment, allowing Kazoo to see exactly what he intended to do. “No dart. No cage.” His gaze met the sleen’s. “Just the splinter.” He carefully positioned the tweezers near the wood. “And if you behave, I’ll even pretend you weren’t threatening to eat me five Ihn ago.” It was in the sleens advantage that crow was a man of precision and a razor sharp focus. His work with tools was on point as long at the animal wouldn’t jerk his paw back. “I wonder if you have a name …” he mused. For some reason he liked to call his animals by their given name.
[03:23:50] Kazoo let out a yowl and a hiss at him. Words were one thing, obience… allowing him this close to see…. but taking it out? whatever it was? He’d tried several times himself. Licking, poking with teeth. Nothing worked. PErhaps he needed this human to help. But that was it. After that they were done. Once he wasn’t in pain, he wouldn’t stay or trust. Those cages, that feeling of being trapped again was something kazoo just didn’t want. Of course there was the collar too. Again it was too tight even though it moved around. Perhaps his skin below was even sore from wearing it so long. Perhaps he would allow…. A growl again and he lowered his head – fangs still presented but a little more accepting of the fact that the man was helping. For now.
[03:29:35] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched the change in the beast carefully. The fangs remained, the growl remained, but Kazoo had lowered his head. That was enough. “Good.” He waited another moment before bringing the tweezers toward the paw again, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “I know.” His voice was quiet. “You don’t like this. Neither would I.” He gently caught the splinter and began to draw it free, stopping immediately when Kazoo tensed too sharply. “Almost.” A final careful pull removed the piece of wood. He held it up briefly between the tweezers. “There.” He set it aside and cleaned the wound again, inspecting the pad before releasing the paw completely. “No cage.” His eyes moved toward the collar as it rattled beneath the fur. “And I haven’t forgotten that either.” He rose slowly, giving Kazoo space. “One thing at a time, beast.” A faint smirk. “You let me help with that too?” it was a question while he would see if the wound needed anything more.
[03:35:09] Kazoo would snarl loudly as the tweezers caught on the piece of wood in his paw. Pain etched on Kazoo’s face. Every muscle in his body was ready to pounce, flee or… attack. But he kept himself from doing so. Somehow he knew the man was trying to help. For a second he remembered the kind person who had found him as a pup in the wild. Raised him. looked after him. A flicker of this would be seen in his eyes. For a moment. He heard the word Cage too… it wasn’t passed over…. but it came with a No before it so he knew the two words together meant exactly that. He gave them a stare anyhow just in case and nudged Crow. He was trying to tell him that he wanted the collar off in his way. Whether he stayed afterwards was quite a different question.
[03:41:29] Crow (melchior.wardell) felt the nudge and looked down at Kazoo. The meaning was clear enough, even without words. After ensuring the paw needed nothing further. He would release the paw. His gaze settled on the old collar beneath the thick fur. “So that is what you want.” He crouched again, but made no immediate attempt to touch it. He studied the collar carefully, noting how tightly it sat against the beast’s neck and the way the small compartment shifted with every movement. “You’ve made one thing very clear.” His hand lowered slowly, stopping short of the metal. “You don’t want another cage.And you don’t want that collar either.” He looked into Kazoo’s eyes. “I can remove it. But I need to know what is beneath it first. If it has been there long enough, I won’t simply tear it away and risk hurting you.” He let his hand fall back. “You trusted me with the paw.” A faint smile was given with an almost apologetic smile. “Perhaps we can make that two things.”
[03:48:08] Kazoo stared at Crow for several Ihn, the growl still there but quieter now. His paw had hurt and the man had made it hurt more… then somehow less. Kazoo understood that much. When Crow’s attention moved to the collar, the sleen’s head followed his gaze before he shook himself violently, making the little compartment rattle once more. He hated that sound. Hated the weight around his neck. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Kazoo lowered his great head toward Crow and stretched his neck forward. It was an unusual position for the beast, exposing himself where normally he would protect his throat at all costs. A warning rumble reminded Crow not to mistake trust for submission. As the thick fur parted around the collar, it became obvious just how long it had been there. The metal sat far too tightly against his neck, almost buried beneath the fur. Beneath it the skin was red and rubbed raw, patches of fur worn thin or missing entirely where years of movement had caused the collar to chafe. Kazoo gave a small hiss as it shifted against the soreness, then nudged Crow’s hand toward it with his muzzle. Off. Whatever the man intended, that seemed to be the one thing Kazoo wanted him to understand. His eyes remained fixed upon Crow as he held himself unnaturally still, though the tips of his fangs remained visible. The paw had earned the man this much trust. What Crow did with it would decide what happened next.
[03:54:12] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied the exposed neck in silence. The condition of the skin beneath the collar told him more than Kazoo ever could have. His fingers hovered near the metal, but he did not touch it yet. “You’ve had this on a long time. Too long.” His voice was quieter now. He carefully examined the fastening, the raw skin, and the small compartment attached to it. He understood why the beast wanted it gone. “Alright.” He looked directly into Kazoo’s eyes. “Off.” Slowly, he reached for the collar, making certain Kazoo could see every movement. He would try to see if the collar was locked in a manner he could undo by hand or if it needed more tools. The last option he feared as he could see the skin already injured by simply wearing it. “Hold still. You gave me permission.” His hand settled carefully against the collar. “I won’t waste it.”
[04:00:03] Kazoo grunted, the low hiss and growl continuing as warnings even though his options were becoming rather limited. One word Crow spoke was understood perfectly. Off. Kazoo shifted his head to one side, exposing more of his neck and, if Crow looked closely, just beside the small compartment was a tiny lock that had kept the collar secured all these years. The movement caused the compartment to knock against him again and Kazoo snuffled angrily as its edge struck one of the bare, raw patches of skin beneath. This time the little compartment battered open. Kazoo froze. Inside, tightly protected from the elements, was a small rolled scroll and beneath it an old piece of rag, worn and faded with age. His head immediately twisted toward Crow’s hand, lips lifting instinctively as though suddenly uncertain whether he wanted the man anywhere near those things. Yet he stopped himself from snapping. Instead his head lowered again and he gave a deep, unhappy rumble, eyes fixed upon Crow. The collar could come off. Apparent whatever secrets it carried were coming with it.
[04:07:56] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s hand stopped the instant the compartment sprang open. His eyes went to the tiny scroll first, then the faded scrap of cloth beneath it. The collar could wait for a moment. Whatever had been hidden there had survived years of wear, water, and whatever life Kazoo had endured. Crow noticed the sudden uncertainty in the sleen’s eyes. “I see.” He did not reach for the contents. Instead, he carefully steadied the opened compartment with one hand, keeping the other well away from the scroll. “These belong to you.” His gaze returned to Kazoo. “I won’t take them.”Only then did he examine the tiny lock more closely. “But that collar… That comes off.” He produced a small tool from his pouch and began working carefully at the old fastening, taking particular care not to press the metal against the raw skin. “No cages. No dart. And apparently, no taking your secrets.” He worked patiently at the lock. “Just getting this damned thing off your neck.”
[04:13:35] Kazoo remained unnaturally still while Crow worked at the lock, though every scrape of the tool against metal brought another low rumble from his chest. The opened compartment shifted beneath Crow’s fingers and the little scroll loosened enough to reveal old writing upon it. One word remained clearly marked despite its age. Kazoo. At the movement of the compartment, the scrap of cloth beneath slipped partly free as well. It was old and weathered, stained dark with dried blood. The instant it was exposed, Kazoo’s nostrils flared. His entire body stiffened. That scent. Old now, faint beneath salt, metal and years trapped inside the collar, but known. His head jerked toward the cloth and he snuffled at it urgently, drawing the scent deep. For a moment the pit seemed forgotten. There was only water. Broken timber. The wreck. And somewhere amongst it, that scent. The same blood that had lingered around the shattered remains of the ship. Kazoo gave a strange, frustrated whine before it twisted back into a growl, his muzzle nudging toward the cloth but not taking it. Then his attention returned to Crow and the tool at his neck. He lowered his head again, allowing him to continue, though his six-legged body remained tense. The man knew something now that he hadn’t before. Kazoo had a name.
[04:22:26] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s movements slowed as the single word became visible. Kazoo. His eyes remained on the writing for several Ihn before shifting toward the faded cloth. The beast’s reaction to it had not gone unnoticed. “Your name.” He said it quietly, almost as though confirming something rather than asking. His gaze returned to the cloth, then to Kazoo. “And that…” He left the sentence unfinished. Carefully, he continued working the old lock, refusing to rush despite the sleen’s tension. At last there was a soft metallic click. He steadied the collar before allowing it to loosen, making sure the metal did not scrape across the raw skin. “There.” He slowly lifted the loosened collar away from Kazoo’s neck. His eyes settled once more on the old scrap of bloodstained cloth. “You remember that scent.” It wasn’t a question. He did not touch the cloth. Instead, he left it where it had fallen, allowing Kazoo to decide what to do with it. Then he looked at the old scroll again. “Kazoo.” A faint crease formed between his brows. “Now we find out who gave you that name.”
[04:30:40] Kazoo ‘s ears flattened at the sound of that name. Kazoo. Something buried deep stirred at it, a name almost forgotten beneath years of instinct and survival. He had come aboard that ship anything but tame, transported in a cage because those who had captured him knew better than to trust him loose. He remembered fighting them. Teeth against bars. Men shouting. Darts buried in his hide until his legs would no longer obey him. Then came the click. The collar loosened and, for the first time in longer than the beast could understand, its weight disappeared from his neck. Kazoo immediately shook himself violently, six legs shifting beneath him as though testing this strange new freedom. He scratched once at the raw skin before beginning to back toward the gate, his eyes never leaving Crow. The man had helped him. Kazoo understood that much. But help was not ownership, and without pain in his paw or metal around his throat, there was suddenly very little keeping him here. The bloodstained rag remained where it had fallen, carrying its silent link back to the wreck, while the scroll held one secret Crow had yet to discover. On its other side was another name: the person who had once owned Kazoo long ago. A person now dead. Kazoo gave Crow one final low rumble, no longer quite a threat but certainly no promise either, before edging closer to the gate. No cage. No collar. No owner. For the first time in a very long while, the sleen could simply choose where he went next.
[04:37:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched Kazoo begin to retreat toward the gate, but made no move to stop him. For a moment, he simply looked at the beast. No collar. No cage. Freedom. His gaze shifted to the open compartment and the faded cloth, then back to Kazoo. “You’re free to go.” He crouched and carefully retrieved the old scroll, keeping the bloodstained rag where it lay. “But before you decide to disappear…” He turned the scroll slightly in his fingers, noticing the writing on the reverse. “I think you should know something.” His eyes lifted toward the sleen. “I know your name. And now I may know who gave it to you.” He did not open it further yet. “You’ve earned the right to hear what it says.” He stepped away from the gate, deliberately leaving the path unobstructed. “No collar. No cage. Your choice.” A faint, thoughtful expression crossed his face. “But if you stay… prhaps we can find out what happened to the one who owned you.” He knew trust wasn’t earned overnight and yet he was certain the animal knew too that survival on his own was hard. It would be hunted, chased away, every day a difficult life as it was no longer fed but in search for its next meal.”Perhaps in time you might even see the benefits of remaining and who knows once you will trust me enough to place a well fitted collar that bares my sigil to warn those that wish to harm you.”
[04:44:09] Kazoo stopped near the gate. One more step and there was nothing between him and freedom, yet the sleen did not take it. His head turned slowly back toward Crow, ears twitching at the familiar sounds amongst all those words. His name. Stay. Collar. That last one earned an immediate growl, his lips lifting enough to show exactly what Kazoo thought of ever wearing another one. But he did not leave. The beast looked beyond the gate for several Ihn, nostrils working at the air. He knew what waited out there because he had already lived it. Since losing the one who had once cared for him there had been hunger, hunting and being hunted. Then the ship. Capture. Bars. Pain. Darts that stole his senses and left him waking helpless inside a cage. Here there was food. Water. Straw. No bars around him now, and the man had removed the thing that had hurt his neck instead of replacing it. Kazoo turned away from the gate with a disgruntled snort and prowled several paces back into the training area, though deliberately not toward Crow. He lowered himself onto the ground and began licking at his injured paw as though the decision had absolutely nothing to do with anything the man had said. He would stay. For now. Not because he belonged here, and certainly not because Crow had mentioned another collar. Food, water and shelter simply made considerably more sense than wandering off recovering. Tomorrow, Kazoo might decide differently.
[04:49:19] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained quiet as Kazoo turned back into the training area. He watched the beast settle and begin tending to his paw, making no comment about the choice. There was no need to. He understood what had just happened. He lowered his gaze to the scroll in his hand, then carefully rolled it closed again. “Wise.” The word was directed toward Kazoo, though he did not expect a response. He placed the scroll and the bloodstained rag carefully in one of his pockets on his belt. He would take up the old open collar. “You’re right. You don’t belong to me.And I won’t pretend otherwise.” He stepped back, giving the sleen the space he clearly valued. “But you can stay. Eat. Sleep. Heal.” He turned away, leaving Kazoo undisturbed. “For today, that is enough.”
[12:15:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) took Hecate through her usual daily walk, allowing the great sleen to set a comfortable pace rather than pushing her. She had been fed beforehand, so there was little reason for hunger to dictate her behaviour today. That, however, did not mean he stopped watching her. Every so often he slowed, calling her closer with a quiet gesture. “Here.” He ran his eyes over her coat, inspecting rather than merely admiring it. He checked the fur along her flanks, shoulders and belly for anything caught, matted or out of place. A few fingers moved carefully through the thicker fur, searching for burrs, dried blood, scratches or the telltale stiffness of an injury hidden beneath a healthy-looking coat.
[12:17:12] Oriana Candace Mishin (heavenlyurt.mother) slowly nears looking at the beast and man” eh tal”
[12:18:07] Hecate allowed such hands too seek in her fur as she idled next to Crow, burs were indeed there but no new wounds. Her massive head turned towards Crow and looking to him with a low grumble rippling through her. A noise of contentment which was rare for the creature to show more than Crow. However as someone neared she slowly turned her massive head, revealing her fags. For now she was intently watching the woman.
[12:18:26] Crow (melchior.wardell) would wave his hand galantly “You can pass, lady. I will ensure nothing will happen.”he promised positioning himself between her and the sleen. “She is well trained. Although any owner will say – that she has never done something like that before.”
[12:20:27] Oriana Candace Mishin (heavenlyurt.mother) stepped back. she knew what the creature was and was happy to shower. the smell of the forest surely was off of her” eh ye yes sir” she stepped back” I eh will go back into the the city I think perhaps….” she looked away despite the veil covering her face. she looked uncomfortable and nervous. she kept stepping back some times stealing a glance at the two
[12:22:49] Hecate gave a low grumble before she pressed her head against Crow lightly. Her nostrils flaring as the scent of something caused her attention to be caught. Her tail twitching behind herself before she gave a singular flat warning, a deep rippling noise. Should something come at her from behind it would be met in turn with a not so gentle retaliation.
[12:26:06] Kazoo had been hiding. Ever since Brokk had decided to use him as his own personal riding beast, venturing back into the city had seemed like an exceptionally bad idea. He’d managed to survive for a few days on little urts and whatever else he could catch, even wandering down to the water to snatch a few fish. But fish and urts only went so far. He needed something more substantial. Something meaty. Preferably something with bones he could gnaw on for a few days.
Hunger eventually won out over common sense, and the sleen slunk cautiously back up the steps toward the city. He was still a little shaken from being slammed into that damned wall down here, and every few steps came with a suspicious glance around, just in case Brokk—or worse—was lurking nearby.
Still, he’d gotten rid of the thrall.
So… bonus.
[12:26:51] Crow (melchior.wardell) noticed Hecate’s change before he gave any attention to the woman’s retreat. The low grumble against his side, followed by that singular warning note, made his posture still. His hand lowered briefly, fingers brushing along Hecate’s neck. “Easy.” Not a command to relax completely. A reminder to hold. His eyes moved past Oriana toward whatever had caught the sleen’s scent. He did not turn his back on it. He shifted half a step, placing himself between Hecate and the direction behind them, while keeping the animal from advancing. “Stay.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the sleen. Perhaps somewhat smaller than Hecate, but still an animal to reckon with. “You’ve been nervous since you approached us,” he said to Oriana, his tone matter-of-fact rather than accusing. “Now be smart and do not make any sudden movements.” he cautioned.
[12:29:14] Oriana Candace Mishin (heavenlyurt.mother) frowned and stood still not moving once she looked their way again. she gulped as a look of concern now showed on her eyes. she seen the other one”I I s so ma many things I ha havent do done ye yet” she whimpered lowly. she slowly moved her hand behind her back and the other to her chest VERY slowly afraid that the sleen may see them as snacks.
[12:34:22] Hecate gave a low warning growl once more before she settled under the hand of Crow, to a point where she wouldn’t attack right off the bat. Her teeth flickered, her tail lashed slightly and then she calmed. Relaxing and giving a grumble. She kneeded the ground with frustration but accepted that she was not to attack whatever was coming behind her. Yet her eyes turned towards the woman in a warning manner as not to try any tricks!
[12:41:32] Kazoo The sleen slunk slowly up the steps, belly low, his six-legged gait carrying him forward with an unsettling, almost serpentine smoothness. Six sets of claws clicked against the stone before suddenly going quiet as he stopped. His broad snout lifted, nostrils flaring as he tasted the air. People. His lips peeled slowly back from his teeth. Oh, he’d missed people. Then came another scent. Sleen. A deep, ugly rumble rolled through his chest as he crept higher, His head appeared above the final step first, cold eyes surveying those gathered there while the rest of his long body followed. His attention settled upon the other sleen, then drifted toward the person there around it. His tail gave one slow, deliberate lash. This looked promising.
[12:48:50] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s hand settled lightly against Hecate’s neck. He looked toward Oriana then, noticing the fear in her eyes. “Don’t run.” The words were quiet, almost conversational. “Running is likely to make this considerably more interesting than it needs to be.” He felt the tension ease beneath his hand as Hecate finally accepted the command. The flicker of teeth and lash of her tail earned only a calm stroke along the side of her neck. “Good girl.”His eyes narrowed as he studied Kazoo’s approach, taking in the six legs, the low posture, the deliberate tail movement and, most importantly, Hecate’s reaction. He shifted his stance just enough to put himself more towards Oriana rather than directly between the two animals, keeping a clear line of sight to both. “Well.” His gaze remained on Kazoo. “Apparently Avarra has acquired another hunter.” The corner of his mouth twitched faintly. “And judging by that expression, this one has considerably less interest in being polite.” His attention returned to the two sleen. “Let them decide what they think of one another.” he moved slowly towards Oriana. “I’d rather not spend the afternoon explaining to Neeve why her infirmary has acquired another patient.”
[12:52:02] Oriana Candace Mishin (heavenlyurt.mother) frowned and would calmly and slowly walk towards the man. she would hide behind him but give him enough room to draw on the beast should he need to. she was afraid more of the beast then him at this point since he is the only one who could save her. as she walked over she kept her eyes on them both watching closely. once she got behind him” sir what is this…why so many sleen things…like…eh are you a sleen over or something” she pauced to think about her words” eh sleen keeper…you know” she mumbled lowly in a fearful innocent tone
[12:56:39] Hecate turned upon the other sleen. Letting out a bassy rumble from the female as fangs revealed. A grumple and a hiss and claws digging into the ground, she skirted around and placed herself between her and crow, front feet lifting up and then slamming down in a dramatic warning. Her tail lashed once, a hiss coming from her before she calmed down. Her warning was clear ‘this human is mine’ and with that she stared at the other. There was enough room for him to get past but also she herself was showing that she wasn’t moving. But he could get past her.
[13:03:54] Kazoo watched the female sleen place herself between him and the human, his head lowering as her warning was answered with a deep, vicious rumble of his own. Oh, she wanted to play. His lips peeled back, exposing his fangs, and for several heartbeats he remained utterly still before suddenly launching himself forward. Six powerful legs tore across the ground as he charged straight at Hecate, jaws snapping viciously as though he fully intended to barrel into her. At the last possible moment, however, something caught his nose. Meat. His charge faltered, head jerking sharply toward the city square as his nostrils flared. Meat. Lots of meat. Whatever murderous thoughts had occupied his sleen brain were abruptly replaced by considerably tastier ones. With a final snapping of his jaws toward Hecate, Kazoo veered past her and tore toward the square, claws scrabbling against the stone. Someone, somewhere, had a meat market… and Kazoo had absolutely no intention of paying.
[13:07:11] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s eyes flicked briefly toward Oriana as she slipped behind him, then immediately returned to the two sleen. He made no move to draw a weapon. The last thing he wanted was a blade entering a confrontation that, for the moment, remained a warning exchange. He watched the charge abruptly become something considerably less murderous. He stared after the fleeing sleen for a heartbeat. Then another. He slowly exhaled.“Well. That was disappointing.” he would give signal to Hecate to follow the animal and herd it if she was able. To Oriana “I fear I need to see what this animal is up too. There is still a mystery to solve.”
[13:09:04] Oriana Candace Mishin (heavenlyurt.mother) slowly nodded to him, she didn’t do much or say much since she felt I dangered” ye yes sir, I thi think ill leave thi this city now” she said knowing the sleen was gonna rampage. she would not wish to risk her life
[13:09:24] Hecate stamped her feet. She was not in the mood, the large female chuffing and baring her teeth in blatant warning before she shook her furred body. However as the male ran towards her she papared to snap back at him. Only to see the command from crow as the other veered off. She was after him in a heart beat, the female larger than normal sleens chasing after and intent on hounding the other sleen to rope him back towards the killer. She was a hunter and so was he. It would be a battle of wits now. And with that she chased, six paws, thudding silently after the other. As silently as one could be for her size. She darted past Oriana without a second glance. [13:10:31] zCS # [Roll] IRunOnCoffee Resident rolled 68 (100).
[13:16:12] Kazoo burst into the square like a small furry catastrophe, skidding toward the meat stalls with an eager snort. His nose plunged toward the nearest slab before he immediately recoiled, lips curling in disgust. Rotten. Stale. Barely worth feeding to an urt. He let out an offended hiss, glaring at the butcher’s wares as though personally insulted. Then another scent rolled in behind him. Sleen. His head snapped around, cold eyes locking onto Hecate as she closed the distance. The meat was forgotten in an instant. With a savage roar, and a flick of his tail at the stalls beside him, at least damanging them or possibly even making the wares go flying, Kazoo wheeled and launched himself at her again, six legs driving him forward as snapping jaws aimed for her shoulder. ((2 rolls: 1 for the damage to the stalls: 0-49 just some wood or supports falling, 50- 100 for the whole thing to tumble. Then to attack Hecate. ;D))
[13:19:54] Hecate saw the other sleen attacking the food before she growled her deep rumbling warning as she came in full force. Her paws slamming on the ground before she launched herself up towards the side of the building, avoiding him as he locked eyes with her. Her fangs bared and her teeth gnashing in alert as she dodged to the side, avoiding the attack before she stuck out at his hid quarters, trying to snap the sleen to attention and herd him away from the food and into a more containable area. An Area she could block off so he could be caught.
[13:21:11] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s followed at a measured pace, Hecate moving before him. He had no need to hurry. As he reached the stalls, he spotted Kazoo immediately. His gaze moved over the scene, taking in the meat laid out, the two sleen, and the inevitable potential for chaos. He sighed quietly. “Of course.” His hand went to his belt and drew the whip, letting the coils hang loosely from his hand. He did not crack it. The weapon was there for one purpose: to give his commands something behind them should either animal decide that the market belonged to them.
[13:25:31] Kazoo snarled as Hecate’s teeth caught his hindquarters, the bite wrenching a furious yelp from him and sending him stumbling sideways into the nearest stall. Wood cracked beneath his weight, sending baskets, meat and half the display crashing across the stones. Pain only seemed to make Kazoo considerably less reasonable. Twisting with frightening speed, he launched himself back at Hecate, jaws snapping for the thick skin along her neck and shoulder as his weight drove forward. Whether he caught her or not, six flailing legs and one thoroughly enraged sleen were apparently enough to try to finish what he’d started. Another stall toppled as his hind legs smashed through its supports, a table overturned, and several baskets went rolling merrily across the square. Somewhere beneath the snarling, snapping chaos, Kazoo caught sight of Crow’s whip. His eyes narrowed. Oh, he remembered them. That only seemed to make him angrier.
[13:28:34] Hecate turned at Kazoo as he reacted to her slap against his hind quarters, her teeth bared her fur on end. She was angry. She was intense. Her eyes flared in anger as he snapped at her neck. Her paws reaching out to slam back at the sleen as she saw him eying crow. Her own fangs sought to seek his neck and if successful she’d try to drive him into the ground. Trying to hold him there as she hissed and growled. What turned out to originally being hearding, had turned into an all out brawl she was trying to keep away from the delicate humanoids. Lest she break the one that commanded her.
[13:31:24] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s expression hardened as the market erupted into splintering wood, overturned baskets and snarling fur. His attention snapped to Hecate as Kazoo twisted back toward her, jaws seeking her neck. “HECATE. BACK.” The command cracked across the square. He didn’t want to loose his own sleen over an animal that was traumatized and in hunger and perhaps pain. He stepped forward, whip already uncoiling in his hand. He did not strike yet. The first priority was to break the momentum before the fight became a killing struggle. “ENOUGH!” he called out in an attempt to not have it escalate. His keen eyes searching for a way to capture the animal without being pulled right through the city as the thrall had been.
[13:38:45] Kazoo twisted viciously beneath Hecate’s attack, using the chaos to wrench himself free as Crow’s command thundered across the square. Then his eyes locked upon the man. Kazoo charged. Six legs hammered across the stones, claws scraping for purchase as he barreled straight toward Crow, only to suddenly skid to a halt directly at his feet. For one strange moment, the sleen simply stared up at him. Silent. Still. Almost as though somewhere inside that malicious little skull, a moment of clarity had finally arrived. Perhaps he remembered he or the whip. Perhaps he understood the command. Perhaps there was hope after all. His head even tilted slightly. Then his lips peeled back. Nope. With a vicious snarl, Kazoo lunged upward, jaws snapping for Crow’s arm as his forelegs came up with him, claws seeking anything they could catch.
[13:39:48] Hecate heard the roar of enough from Crow, the tone, and the whip causing her to lunge backwards away from the other creature. Spinning about and facing her hind quarters to him for a split second before she herself tugged off towards her handler, stalking at the rim of the outside. The fight had gotten messy, though she had avoided injury she did not wish to get killed either. Instinct of survival kicking in as she growled at a distance. Her posture defensive instead of aggressive this time! Yet the second that Kazoo lunged for Crow she snapped at him. Trying to grab a leg and topple the other sleen before Crow could be bitten. Without getting in another straight out attack.
[13:45:48] Crow (melchior.wardell) saw the lunge coming. His arm pulled back instinctively as Kazoo’s jaws snapped upward, while Hecate’s sudden counter from the side disrupted the charge. Crow stepped sharply back, putting distance between himself and the snapping jaws, the whip already moving through his hand. He could not completely avoid the sharpness of the fangs and felt it rip through skin of his hand. “NO.” he called out. He was a man that had lived his life always dangerously and he knew that in these moments it would matter to remain focused. The word was directed at both sleen. He gave Hecate a sharp gesture toward him. “Back. Stay.” He ignored the sharpness of the pain and considered the moment he would tell Neeve about the loss of limbs. “You are hungry … and yet you want to bite the hand that can feed you?” his words were calm once more as if to sooth the animal that was not designed to simply attack without reason. He head seen it previous. It only played or felt cornered. It wasn’t a merciless murderer unlike himself. “I am beginning to think manners are beyond you.” He kept the whip ready, watching Kazoo’s shoulders, jaws and feet rather than the threat of the teeth alone. He would use it but only in a last resort. He was a reasonable trainer and kept his animals well.
[13:55:47] Kazoo felt his fangs catch flesh before Crow pulled away, the taste of blood bringing a low, satisfied rumble from deep in Kazoo’s chest. Hecate’s attempt to catch his leg barely registered, but that single, sharp “NO” did. His head snapped toward Crow, body tensing as though another attack might follow. Yet it didn’t. The man stood his ground, whip ready but unused, his voice calm despite the blood on his hand. Kazoo stared at him, nostrils flaring as he scented the blood and studied his posture. Something in that tone was familiar—not the man himself, but the authority behind it. The authority of one accustomed to commanding sleen. Slowly, reluctantly, Kazoo’s belly lowered to the stones, six legs folding beneath him as his ears flattened back. His lips still twitched around exposed fangs, and a disgruntled growl rumbled in his throat. Submission, perhaps… but manners were definitely still beyond him. If Crow were to try and collar the beast, however, that would be another matter entirely. Buried deep beneath the thick fur around Kazoo’s neck was already an old, badly worn collar, fitted tightly enough that it might easily have gone unnoticed. Age had dulled its surface, though there were faint signs that it had once belonged to someone—or somewhere. More curious still was a tiny compartment worked into the collar itself, its purpose impossible to tell without examining it more closely. Perhaps the beast had not always been quite as wild as he appeared.
[13:56:43] Hecate hissed as she was called back once more. She could smell the blood and revealed her fangs. Her attempt to get involved failing and now she backed up. Her legs shifting to put her in a couch as she didn’t get involved again, her fangs bared but she stayed back no matter what until the next command. Normally well behaved ‘to a point’ this was a testing trial for her. Those golden eyes locked upon the other sleen. However for now she waited, biding her time. And clearly disgruntled with the whole situation as messy fur stood upon end. However as Kazoo calmed so too did she. Starting to settle as the feral hisses quieted down.
[14:05:37] Crow (melchior.wardell) did not move immediately. The blood on his arm was noted, but it was the sudden change in Kazoo that held his attention. The beast had lowered itself, the rage still present but contained. Crow kept the whip ready, though he made no attempt to use it. “Better.” His eyes remained fixed on Kazoo. “Stay there.” Then he glanced toward Hecate. Her fur was standing along her back, but she had obeyed and withdrawn. “Good girl. Stay.” Only then did he look down at his arm, briefly inspecting the bite. It was superficial enough to wait. His attention returned to Kazoo almost immediately. Something about the collar caught his eye. Crow narrowed his gaze. “Well.” He did not approach yet. Instead, he studied the worn band around the sleen’s neck, noticing the age of it and the small compartment worked into the material. “You’ve been wearing that for some time.” His voice remained calm. “So you’re not quite the wild creature you were pretending to be.” A slight tilt of his head. He lowered the whip slightly, but did not put it away. “Who owned you clearly lost you. So with that … we need you fed and cared for.” he sighed.”and with that .. how much do I owe the butcher?” he stated – a sign of his dark sense of humor. “Hecate, let us bring this one out of the city so we can see how to have it eased and cared for.” he would allow Hecate to correct the animal, but only when Kazoo gave indication not to comply.
[14:11:56] Kazoo remained low, watching Crow with cold, calculating eyes as the man’s attention lingered upon the old collar buried beneath his fur. At the word “owned,” Kazoo’s lips twitched back from his fangs and a low growl vibrated through him. Apparently that particular subject was unpopular. Still, when Crow indicated they were leaving, the sleen understood well enough. He unfolded his six legs and rose, giving himself a violent shake that sent dust, bits of market debris and possibly someone’s dinner flying from his fur. His nose lifted toward Crow’s bleeding hand for one long, interested sniff before his tongue slid across his jaws. Tempting. Very tempting. But the promise of food won—for now. Kazoo began moving in the indicated direction, though as he passed Hecate he deliberately bumped his shoulder hard against hers, tail lashing as he continued onward. Obedient, perhaps. Sorry? Absolutely not. As Kazoo moved, the old collar shifted beneath his fur, briefly exposing the tiny compartment Crow had noticed earlier. Its fastening was worn and slightly loose, enough that the edge of something pale could just be seen trapped beneath it before the fur fell back into place.
[14:14:30] Hecate rumbled, seeing the other sleen submitting for now she chuffed. She heard the words from crow and gave him a sleen style hiss as though accepting his words as she fleebit her leg for a moment. Eyes locked upon the two before she raised her large head. Shaking her fluffed body. Only to feel the hard run in against her shoulder. Snarling once but not attacking as she went to follow after, guiding the other sleen in her own manner. Trailing after and cutting off escape routes as she let him think he had the upper hand. However with a curious glance back to crow she continued on, herding the other sleen but also being careful. Lest another scrap broke out.
[14:19:10] Crow (melchior.wardell) knew he captain well and was grateful it didn’t ask to many questions as he boarded the ship not with one but two sleens. He kept a close look upon Kazoo as he was unsure of it’s behavior. But his voice was calm and soothing. Not only the promise of a meal but also care. Not that he treated them as pets, they were still wild and dangerous. But they received respect as long as that was mutual. He tossed a coin to the captain and paid little to no mind to the women.
[14:28:50] Kazoo had found himself a snack somewhere between the market and the ship, carrying the questionable lump of meat proudly between his jaws as though he’d personally hunted it rather than stolen it. The journey itself earned several unhappy growls, but the moment his six paws touched unfamiliar ground, Kazoo stopped. The meat dropped forgotten between his feet as his head lifted high, nostrils working furiously. New land. New scents. New people. His eyes narrowed as he tasted the air, taking a few slow steps before glancing back toward Crow and Hecate. Whatever authority Crow had managed to establish was apparently holding—for now. Kazoo lowered his head, retrieved his stolen prize and followed, though his eyes continually swept their surroundings for anything interesting enough to bite. Beneath his thick fur, the worn collar shifted again, the loose edge of its tiny compartment briefly catching against the fur before disappearing beneath it once more.
[14:32:06] Crow (melchior.wardell) presented the three sleens with three cages. In them there were Tabuk. Alive and very willing to leave the cages if he would allow them too. He would position himself so he wouldn’t step inbetween. “Feed.” he would tell them while he would spring the opening so the tabuk could escape. Allowing them their hunt and prey.
[13:10:55] Crow (melchior.wardell) returned to Avarra without announcement, as was his habit. There was no entourage, no banner, no reason given for his arrival. This time, however, he was not alone. The massive sleen moved with him, keeping to his pace with the quiet, unsettling confidence of a creature that knew exactly what it was capable of. Hecate was no ornament and certainly no pet. She was a hunter. A good one. His gaze moved over the city as they approached, taking in the walls, the streets beyond them. “Try not to eat anyone important.” He continued toward the city,
[13:13:48] Hecate growled softly in response to the words, she heard the word eat and try not too before she tilted her massive head to the side. Giving a baleful eye towards Crow, as though he had said something funny. Not that a sleen could understand common speech but she was intelligent, and thus she slunk after him, heeling to his side in a crumbly manner as she hissed to those who got too close but she attacked no one.
[13:18:39] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) had already met Crow before, though the enormous sleen accompanying him was considerably harder to dismiss with a polite nod. Her gaze settled upon Hecate almost immediately, and despite knowing the beast travelled with Crow, Neeve instinctively gave her a wider berth. With the recent attacks still very much in her thoughts, the sight of a predator quite capable of tearing a person apart did little to put the physician at ease. “I would rather she did not eat anyone at all, important or otherwise,” Neeve remarked dryly toward Crow, though her attention remained fixed upon Hecate as the beast hissed at someone foolish enough to wander too close. She resisted the urge to retreat another step, instead drawing herself upright and smoothing a hand over her skirts. “I am trusting you have considerably more control over her than appearances suggest.” Her attention eventually shifted from the sleen to the purpose of their meeting. The wreck needed surveying, particularly after everything that had happened of late, and standing here staring suspiciously at Crow’s hunting beast would tell them nothing. “Come then. We should see what remains of the wreck while there is still enough light to make a proper assessment.” She gestured toward the direction they needed to take before starting forward, though she made quite certain Crow remained between herself and Hecate whenever possible. Physician she might be, but she had absolutely no desire to discover firsthand what a sleen bite looked like from the patient’s perspective.
[13:23:26] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s eyes shifted briefly toward Hecate as Neeve spoke, the corner of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. “Considerably more.” The sleen’s hiss drew his attention, but he made no move to reprimand her. Instead, he gave the creature a quiet look and a small gesture of his hand. Hecate remained where she was, alert, her head following the movement of the fool who had ventured too close. “She knows the difference between curiosity and command.” His gaze returned to Neeve. “And between prey and someone she has been told to leave alone.” He fell into step beside the Physician as she started toward the wreck, deliberately keeping Hecate behind them. His attention, however, was already working over the surroundings. The scent was still there. Faint. Old. But unmistakable. He glanced toward the wreckage, then toward the ground around it. He wasn’t looking merely for bodies this time. He was looking for signs that something had returned. “You are right about one thing,” he said quietly. “There is little value in standing here staring at the wreck.” His eyes narrowed. “But I did not bring Hecate because I expected to find nothing.” He paused near the edge of the wreckage, letting the sleen’s instincts work from behind them. “The scent of animals is still here. When Sheikh arrived he would again signal to Hecate that there was no need to charge.
[13:24:40] حكيم Sheikh Jaziran عظيم (anvarra.alecto): Having followed the healer he chuckles low seeing the large sleen and remembers the days uncle Yusef use to hand over the sand sleens and say ..go hunt down the lost slave animals..And he ran off to go hunting .Seeing this one he saw a great forest sleen and knew the larger breed is well fed and tended “Bring the animal by the meat stall will toss em a full side of tarsk to knaw on some morn should enjoy that good sleen master”
[13:25:42] Hecate followed along with crow, stopping suddenly as her nostrils flared. She turned her head off to the distance where she saw something skirting around, as though eying them up. Only for the large beast to fall back into step and run her shoulder against Crow in the only warning he’d get for now. They were being watched by something and the giant creature who was massive even for her own kind bared dual fangs for a moment. However as Neeve spoke that head swiveled towards her. A chuff coming from the large furred almost reptile. Her six legs moving before she noticed the fire. She paused and then looked to the wreckage. She was not a cuddly creature, but nore did she step out of line. She was well trained since birth. The moment however crow motioned for her to stop her head lifted and she held still. As the next signal from crow with the new person arriving she gave a grumble and then continued to survay the around areas. Her ears flicked back against her head. She was on edge but not about to maul anyone. It was evident from her posture, though she still held that grumbly demeanor.
[13:33:22] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw): me glanced back at Hecate when Crow spoke of the sleen knowing the difference between prey and those she had been told to leave alone. That was reassuring in theory, though Neeve was not entirely convinced she wished to discover how firmly she had been placed into the latter category. “I shall endeavour not to resemble prey, then,” she murmured dryly, continuing alongside him. Sheikh’s arrival drew a brief glance and a faint smile at his offer of an entire side of tarsk. “Do not encourage her. She is quite large enough already.” Her amusement faded as they reached the wreckage. Neeve slowed, eyes passing carefully over the remains before Crow’s words drew her attention. “Animals?” she repeated, brow furrowing. “The same as before?” Recent attacks made that considerably more concerning than merely finding old tracks around a wreck. Then Hecate stopped. Neeve noticed the change immediately: the flaring nostrils, the sudden turn of the sleen’s head and, more importantly, the way she pressed against Crow. Whatever reservations Neeve held about the beast, she trusted an animal’s senses considerably more than her own when it came to detecting something hidden beyond sight. Her gaze followed Hecate’s toward the distance, one hand instinctively gathering a little of her skirt as she moved closer to Sheikh and Crow. “Something has her attention.” Her voice lowered, all humour gone now. She knew there had been animals here. The empty cage still stood discarded. She saw the tracks that lead away. She remembered all too well the bodies – the blood possibly still evident on the ground. A slight shiver down her spine made her a little cold.
[13:37:47] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s attention shifted immediately when Hecate stopped. The change in the sleen was subtle to anyone who did not know her. To him it was as clear as a shouted warning. His hand lowered, resting briefly against the thick hide of her neck. “I know.” He didn’t look at Neeve at first. His eyes remained fixed on the direction Hecate had chosen. The scent was there. Not merely the old musk lingering around the wreckage. Something fresher. Fainter, perhaps, but present. He slowly crouched, examining the ground without touching it. His gaze moved over the dirt, the broken timbers, the old tracks and the places where weather and footsteps had disturbed them. “No…” he murmured. He rose again. “Not the same.” His eyes narrowed. “Older scent beneath it. Something else over the top.” He glanced toward Neeve and then Sheikh. “Whatever she smells, she doesn’t think it is gone.” He lifted one hand toward Hecate, keeping her settled. “And now I am wondering whether bringing a hunter to Avarra was unnecessary…” A faint, humorless smile touched his face. “Or simply late.”
[13:43:11] حكيم Sheikh Jaziran عظيم (anvarra.alecto): “Too much blood for too late for sure and there is something morehere” leans down and breaks off a small bit of the tree root near the ground and smells”scales like a tharl but small not very large ,I am sure you know the smell of tharls. In the desert we use too many breeds not to know the stink of em”
[13:44:20] Hecate gave a low rumbling thrum from her chest. Her claws digging into the dirt and sand as something continued to watch them. A growl rippling through next in a clear ‘shove off’ manner towards whatever was watching them. The massive sleen keeping an eye on the ridge and ignoring the two new comers for now as she observed. She didn’t burst from her position, instead watching, waiting. Patience that came from years of training clear while she herself sounded like a warning bell for those humans near her. The scent of those creatures that had escaped and something new. She turned her head after a time towards Crow, looking to him with those dark golden eyes as he touched her long fur. The hunting sleen huffing once in a self soothing manner before she turned her head back up. Waiting and poised, like a larl ready to pounce, but in this case as sleen. Whatever was watching them, had not left yet.
[13:50:44] Natalie (natalie.blakewell) The journey south had been long and unforgiving, each day pushing her closer to the edge of exhaustion and desperation. How had circumstances conspired to strand her here? Her stomach gnawed at her insides, yet caution kept her movements deliberate, controlled. The young redhead secured her canoe and set off to explore. She needed to blend in, to disappear into the fabric of this place. A veil. A free woman’s dress. Without them, she was nothing but a marked target. That’s when she heard them, their voices. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved forward with practiced stealth, each footfall barely disturbing the earth beneath her. Then she saw it through the bars: the distinctive, bone-chilling image of a beast shifting. A sleen. Her pulse quickened, blood roaring in her ears as her body went rigid. Every nerve ending screamed at her to run. Instead, she forced herself to breathe slowly, deeply, pressing her body against the nearest wall. She became stone, she wanted to become invisible.
[13:52:04] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) remained where she was as Crow crouched to inspect the ground, making no attempt to follow his examination as though she might somehow discern what he did. Scales and animal scents were well outside her expertise. Give her blood, wounds and a body and she could likely tell them considerably more, but dirt beneath her feet was simply dirt as far as Neeve was concerned. Her gaze instead settled upon Hecate. The sleen’s behaviour was enough to make the hairs at the back of her neck rise, particularly when those claws dug into the earth and that low growl carried through the air. Whatever Crow and Sheikh were smelling, Hecate certainly appeared convinced it was still nearby. “Well, I smell blood,” she said, nose wrinkling slightly as she looked toward the wreckage. “Human blood, unless I am very much mistaken. Beyond that, you gentlemen may keep your tharls, scales and mysterious scents. I would only embarrass myself by pretending to know one beast’s stink from another.” Her eyes moved toward the ridge Hecate continued to watch. Crow’s remark earned him a sideways glance. “Considering what has already happened here, I am inclined toward late rather than unnecessary.” Neeve edged nearer to Sheikh almost without thinking, though she attempted to make the movement appear entirely casual. Her attention remained fixed upon the same distant point as Hecate’s, despite seeing nothing herself. “If whatever is out there has enough sense to understand that growling, perhaps it will decide we are not worth investigating.” A pause followed before she added more quietly, “Though given our recent luck, I rather doubt it.”
[14:00:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) s gaze remained fixed on the ridge as Neeve spoke. Human blood. That changed the calculation. He slowly turned his head toward her. “How fresh?” There was no alarm in his voice. Only the quiet precision of a man adding another piece to a puzzle. Hecate’s growl deepened. His hand settled against the sleen’s neck again, not restraining her so much as reminding her that she was not yet given permission. He looked toward the wreckage once more. “If you can smell blood, Physician, then something bled recently.” His eyes lowered briefly to the ground. “And if Hecate can smell something else…” He paused. “Then we have two pieces of information pointing in the same direction.” A faint, dry smile appeared. “At least not until we know whether whatever is watching us has decided we are prey, competition…” His fingers moved once against Hecate’s hide. “Or simply an inconvenience.” He could sense something nearby but was unsure. He signaled for Hecate to guard the area and bring anyone that came to close and was not yet pointed. He knew she could herd too. He looked toward the Physician. “I sense we are not alone.” he would moved beside her if it was to protect or simply to overlook the area was for anyones guess.
[14:03:10] Hecate smelled something different, the sleen already on alert pressed her head against Crow once more, a silent warning as those baleful eyes turned towards the area behind her. Her head turning slightly before she let out another rumbling warning hiss of something approaching her. The creature already on edge now being torn in two directions. However what ever was on the ridge left for now. The nostrils flaring of the sleen returned to whatever was near by. Her claws kneeding that ground but she didn’t move, nore attack. Simply warning and waiting, that hand upon her neck reminding her of a signal that had yet to be given. However as Crow moved off, she turned her head, looking to where the new smell was coming from and turning to it. Though she made no move to the target, she still pointed out whatever it was. A low rumble emitting from her. It was a human. Though to what end the sleen had no clue. Simply….that it was less of a threat than whatever she had smelled.
[14:10:02] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) looked to Crow at his question, lips pursing. “I am not certain.” Rather than pretend otherwise, she moved cautiously nearer the wreckage and bent to inspect the blood again, drawing a careful breath. “Some is old…” she murmured, before indicating another trace. “But that smells newer. Not much blood…. a cut, perhaps? I cannot tell you precisely when, only that it was not all spilled at the same time.”Hecate’s sudden shift had Neeve straightening, eyes immediately following the sleen. “Oh, I dislike it when she does that,” she muttered, though Crow moving beside her was certainly not discouraged. In fact, Neeve edged subtly closer to him a little like he was suddenly her protector now Sheikh had gone. Her gaze flicked back toward the ridge before meeting Crow’s. “Between your instincts and hers, I am beginning to feel rather outnumbered in opinions that we are not alone.”
[14:14:17] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied Neeve as she examined the blood, listening without interrupting. A cut. Little blood. Recent enough to matter. His gaze returned to the ridge. “Then something bled here after the rest.” Hecate shifted again. He felt the movement beneath his hand and glanced down at her. He gave the sleen a quiet look before looking back toward the ridge. “You’re not outnumbered.You’re simply standing beside two hunters who happen to agree.” There was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice. He noticed Neeve edging closer and made no comment on it. Instead, he shifted half a step, placing himself between her and the direction Hecate was watching. “Stay close to me.” His attention sharpened. “If it is merely an animal, Hecate will tell us and most likely deal with it far more efficient than we both can.” His eyes narrowed. “If it is a man…” his hand drifted nowhere near his weapons. Not yet. “I’ll tell you.” He studied the physician for a moment. He could see that her hair had escaped the ribbon and flowed over her shoulder. “One wonders … all the animals were trained one time or another. But I doubt the one that cut himself here, came for them.”
[14:17:30] Hecate flared her nostrils as whatever she had caught wind had left. The creature on the ridge had retreated for now but whatever it was would most likely come back later she knew. She sat down after a moment, a sign that everything had passed for now. The humanoid gone and the ridge beast disappeared from her bellowing and warnings. Her eyes looked back to the hunter and the woman. Her massive haired body shaking just once to give a sign that the coast was clear before she yawned. The tension clearly having gotten her rialed up as nails continued to stay digging in the dirt. Yellow eyes turned to Crow before she chuffed at him. And then looked back to the woman he had been protecting.
[14:26:04] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) heard the distant toll of the Physicians’ bell carrying from the city, her head turning instinctively toward the sound. Whatever called for attention would have to wait; for once, she ignored it and remained exactly where Crow had told her. “Two hunters who happen to agree sounds suspiciously like being outnumbered,” she replied, though there was a trace of amusement beneath her unease. When Crow stepped between her and the ridge and told her to stay close, Neeve did not argue, remaining comfortably within the protection he offered.
She caught his gaze lingering upon her and followed it down to the strands of hair that had escaped their ribbon and fallen over her shoulder. One brow lifted as she swept them back with her fingers. “My hair is hardly the most suspicious thing out here, Crow,” she teased lightly, though she made a small attempt to tuck it back into place. Her attention returned to the wreck as he spoke of the animals. “No, I doubt it too. Which leaves us with the rather unpleasant question of why someone came here at all.” Hecate settling finally eased some of Neeve’s tension, though she eyed the enormous sleen when that yellow gaze turned upon her. “I take it sitting down means I may breathe again?”
[14:30:40] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s eyes followed the loose strands of hair for only a moment before returning to the ridge. Her teasing earned the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I wasn’t looking at your hair.” he lied. “I was looking at what was behind you.” His gaze shifted toward the wreckage again, though the dry amusement remained. “Your hair is considerably less suspicious. For the moment.” He stepped away from the Physician only enough to crouch near the edge of the wreckage, studying the disturbed ground. “And yes. You may breathe.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Quietly.” The question she had asked lingered. “That is the part that interests me.” He rose slowly. “A ship carrying dangerous animals doesn’t simply break apart, lose its cargo, leave bodies behind and somehow produce four different beasts wandering around a city. Someone put those creatures on that ship.Someone restrained them.” He looked toward Neeve. “The question isn’t why they came.” His voice dropped. “It’s what they were looking for.”
[14:34:48] Hecate grumbled and looked towards Crow and Neeve before she chuffed, her tail flicking behind her thoughtfully before she stood up once more, waiting, watching, observing. She was peaceful for now. But for now she was just observing. Her eyes tracing where the other creature had gone and not returned.
[14:39:34] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) gave Crow a thoroughly unconvinced look at his denial, fingers still gathering the escaped strands of hair but failing a little. A job for a mirror and some decent clips. “Of course you were,” she replied, the hint of a smile betraying that she did not believe him for a moment. His instruction to breathe quietly earned him another look. “You are becoming terribly demanding,” she murmured, though she did lower her voice and watched as he crouched beside the wreckage. The humour faded as she listened to his reasoning, her gaze travelling over the broken remains. “Four different beasts…” Neeve repeated thoughtfully. “Which means someone went to considerable trouble to capture them, restrain them and transport them together.” She looked back to Crow. “So perhaps the wreck was never the important part at all.” Her eyes briefly moved toward Hecate, relieved to see the sleen calmer now. “If you are right and they were looking for something…” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think they found it? Or are they still looking?” She thinks a few moments – clearly her instinct kicked in “Or perhaps….. They were the ones that caged them thinking they would arrive safely and now…” she lets that thought just wonder into the wind “There’s someone behind this and they are still here. In Avarra.” Conclusions perhaps… but it was like creating a dot to dot in her head.
[14:45:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s expression remained unreadable as Neeve’s theory took shape. He listened without interrupting, eyes moving from the wreckage to the tracks and finally toward the ridge where Hecate remained fixed. “That…” he said quietly, “is considerably more interesting.” He crouched again, fingers hovering above one of the disturbed marks without touching it. “If they were transporting the beasts, then someone had a purpose for them. They weren’t cargo in the usual sense. They were chosen.” His gaze lifted. “Which means the wreck may indeed be incidental.” Hecate gave another low rumble. Crow’s eyes immediately followed hers. “And if the person responsible is still here…” He slowly straightened. “Then they have been watching what happened to their animals. Perhaps watching us.” His hand settled against Hecate’s neck, keeping the sleen calm while his attention swept the ridge, the shoreline, and the wreck.”That would explain the newer blood.”He looked toward Neeve. “Someone may have been injured while trying to recover one of them. Or while trying to control one.” He glanced toward the Physicians’ bell in the distance. “Either way, I don’t think we should assume the animals are the only things hunting in Avarra. But that is not something we can resolve from here.” He dipped his head towards Hecate. “She will be hunting in Avarra. She wears my insignia and is easy to be recognized. Now go to that bell … or call. I do not wish to detain a physician from saving a persons life.” he would give her a playful wink. “What do you think I am ? A murderer.” he laughs there.
[14:47:12] Hecate rumbled, continuing to idle there. Her eyes looking about before she started to pace about, sniffing at things but not eating or even licking the blood. She kept her head high for the most part, the creature though dangerous had strict training, she was not going to get into anything she shouldn’t. Before she turned her head to the water, sniffing at the air to check if it was fresh or sea water. She was cautious now, as though trying to get her barings. However during this whole thing she never left the vision sight of Crow, keeping him in her vision as well. As though ready to heel to his next command. As the bell sounded however she raised her head and looked to the sound in the distance and then back to the two conversing. The sleen giving a rumble before moving back to Crow.
[14:49:52] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) glanced toward the distant bell again, knowing she could ignore its summons no longer. “No, Crow, I do not think you are a murderer,” she replied with a small laugh, catching his wink. “i know you are. But that’s not for now.” Her gaze passed once more over the wreck and then Hecate. “I doubt we have heard the last of this.” She gathered her skirts, stepping away before looking back to Crow. “Try not to find anything too interesting without me, and keep your sleen from eating anyone important.” With that, Neeve turned toward the city and the insistent call of the Physicians’ bell.
[12:27:15] Crow (melchior.wardell) went about his business, content to move towards the city. Then he saw her. The physician. Alone. He regarded her for a moment before approaching, his expression settling into that familiar mixture of calm and faint amusement. “Well.” A pause. “Thinking of leaving?” His eyes briefly swept the street before returning to her. “I assume this is coincidence.” Another beat. “Though I’ve learned that coincidence tends to become considerably less convincing the longer I know people.”
[12:30:17] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi had, in fact, been studying the wall. Somewhere along this stretch Brokk had met stone after being unceremoniously launched from the back of a sleen. Given his size, she expected the wall should have fared worse. But the search had been abandoned when a cluster of flowers caught her attention. She crouched near them, fingertips hovering over delicate petals as she considered their usefulness beyond simply looking pretty. Crow’s voice came from behind her. She stilled. Perhaps wandering alone near the docks, with her back to the ships, had not been among her more brilliant decisions. Gabbi rose slowly and turned, green eyes settling upon him. The robes she wore belonged unmistakably to his caste, while the gorget at her throat and jewels worked into her crown quietly proclaimed her own. “Leaving?” Her brow lifted. “Hardly. I have only just finished putting one enormous man back together. I haven’t the energy required to dramatically flee the city.” Her gaze flicked toward the ships before returning to him. “And coincidence?” A small smile appeared beneath the veil. “You approached me, Crow. If anyone needs to explain themselves, I believe it is you.” She glanced pointedly around the empty docks. “Though admittedly, I have made myself remarkably easy to hunt.”
[12:36:10] Crow (melchior.wardell) noticed Neeve approaching and, for a moment, simply watched the two Physicians gathering near the ship. His brow lifted slowly, a flicker of genuine amusement crossing his otherwise unreadable expression. He glanced from Neeve to Gabbi, then toward the city walls. “Don’t you ladies think the city within the walls is less dangerous than here?” His gaze returned to them, one eyebrow still raised. “Broken doors. Escaped beasts. Wounded tarns. Hungry larls…” A small pause. “And now two Physicians appearing at the docks.” His mouth twitched faintly. “Either Avarra has become considerably more dangerous…” He looked toward the city again. “…or the two of you have an unusual talent for finding where the trouble is.” There was a hint of humor.
[12:39:11] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) was out for a nice walk, deciding to head down to the docks today with Miden, hoping to point out a few herbs that she could use in the infirmary, some of which only grew here. She was enjoying the fresh air and the quiet of the walk when she came across Gabbi and Crow at the bottom of the steps, causing her to slow and eventually come to a halt. She offered them both a warm smile before greeting them. “nice to see you both..” then she heard Crow’s words and she chuckled a little “I suppose when you put it that way, it does sound as though the docks are considerably more dangerous than the city,” she admitted with a quiet chuckle. “Though I wouldn’t say we have a talent for finding trouble. We are physicians, after all. Trouble tends to find us when there are wounded people and creatures in need of tending. As for two physicians appearing at the docks… perhaps we simply decided that we were allowed a peaceful walk for once, though judging by your list, I may have spoken too soon.” She gave him an amused look. “Broken doors, escaped beasts, wounded tarns and hungry larls? I think I’ll keep a particularly close eye on Miden today.”
[12:40:09] “Miden” padded gracefully after the Mistress, still acutely aware of the very little clothing she had on, even moreso after the educational session she just had earlier. Her wrists remained crossed at her back, head held high. That was until she caught sight of the man at the docks, and judging by the way he carried himself, the clothing he wore, she froze, summizing his caste and began to shake with terror, paling a little as her head lowered, swallowing hard. She remained silent, stopping just behind the woman and to her left, although she was more hiding behind her than not…
[12:41:45] Stones (stony2526): greetings all .. [12:41:59] Stones (stony2526): did the stairs wear you all out ?
[12:43:55] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi’s eyes narrowed slightly at Crow, though amusement still lingered behind them. “Easy to hunt, perhaps. Entirely without purpose? Hardly.” She gestured toward the wall. “Brokk came home today. Somewhere along here is where several hundred pounds of him met Avarran stone after a sleen decided he no longer belonged upon its back. I was curious which survived the encounter with greater dignity.” Her attention drifted back toward the flowers. “Then those distracted me. I was wondering whether they might be useful in the infirmary.” A pause. “So yes, coming down here alone was perhaps not the wisest decision I have made this hand.” Neeve’s arrival drew a warmer glance, though Gabbi’s brow soon lifted. “Interesting. I come looking for damaged walls and find herbs. You come looking for herb s and find me. Perhaps Crow has discovered a conspiracy after all.” Her gaze slipped beyond Neeve to Miden, catching the sudden pallor, trembling, and the rather determined attempt to disappear behind her Mistress. Gabbi knew that fear. More importantly, she knew what usually inspired it. Green eyes returned slowly to Crow. “Well,” she murmured dryly, “at least someone here possesses a healthy sense of self-preservation.” to the man that just arrived Gabbi gave a polite nod of her head as a silent greeting.
[12:44:58] Stones (stony2526): sets off up the interminable stairs to find the tavern [12:45:02] Stones (stony2526): be well all
[12:46:12] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s eyes shifted toward Neeve as she spoke, the faint amusement remaining in his expression. “Peaceful walk.” He repeated the words as though testing their accuracy against the evidence already gathered around Avarra. His gaze then moved to Miden. The reaction was immediate. He noticed the way she froze, the lowered head, the tension in her posture and the attempt to place Neeve between herself and him. “I seem to have ruined someone’s peaceful walk already.” His attention returned to Miden, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. “Relax. If I intended to cause you trouble, hiding behind a Physician would be a remarkably poor strategy.” A beat passed. “Although behind that physician might not be all that bad in decision.” He turned to the man that spoke of the stairs. “No.” The corner of his mouth lifted. He listens to Gabbi and a brow rose “Several hundred pounds of Brokk versus a sleen.And you were disappointed enough by the outcome to come looking for flowers.” A faint twitch of amusement touched his mouth. “Physicians are an unusual people.”
[12:51:23] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) felt Miden’s sudden movement behind her and glanced back, noticing the girl’s pale face and trembling posture. Without making a fuss about it, she reached back and gave Miden’s head a gentle, reassuring pat, her touch lingering for a moment before she turned her attention back towards the others. “I have yet to encounter any of these beasts on my walk to here that you speak of, save for a giani who I am sure is rather cute rather than potentially going to scratch my eyes out,, so I think you are quite safe for the moment.” She gave the girl another gentle pat before looking towards Crow with a small smile. “Besides, I brought her down here to learn about the herbs that grow near the docks, not to throw her into the path of a hungry larl.”
I then glanced towards Gabbi, then back to Crow with a faintly amused expression. “And perhaps Physicians are unusual, but I would argue that wandering around looking for flowers is considerably more sensible than deliberately going looking for trouble. Although, judging by what happened to Brokk, perhaps the trouble simply has a habit of finding us regardless.”
[12:53:37] “Miden” was being hit with a double whammy there. Trauma from what a man had done to her quite recently and that self preservation kicking in. Her fear was palpable, even with the attempted reassurance from the Assassin. It was only the leash and training that stopped her from bolting. She remained completely silent, still shaking away. That tension only grew as the other man came closer, then walked past her, her chest rising and falling faster.
The touch from Neeve grounded her though, enough that she remembered what was expected of her, her head quickly lifting, chin held at an angle just below proud and arrogant, falling instead on elegant and servile, with just a touch of the expected pride.
[12:57:53] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi glanced back toward the wall, studying it once more with considerably less satisfaction than when she had arrived. Truthfully, she had expected carnage. Cracked stone. A Brokk-shaped impression, perhaps. Something worthy of the tale he had recounted from the infirmary cot. Instead, she gave the wall an almost offended look. “Rather disappointing, actually. After listening to Brokk explain his newest instructional course, How to Tame a Sleen, I expected considerably more damage.” Her fingers indicated the unimpressive evidence. “Apparently the wall won.” Crow’s assessment earned him a slow turn of her head. “Unusual?” There was a thoughtful little hum behind her veil. “Interesting. Erebus seemed equally surprised by this particular physician.” Her green eyes rested deliberately upon Crow. “I am beginning to wonder whether it is physicians who are unusual, or whether men of your caste simply have very narrow expectations of us.” Neeve’s defense brought a quiet laugh from her. “Precisely. We look for flowers. They look for trouble. Yet somehow we are the unusual ones.”
[13:00:46] Crow (melchior.wardell) listened to Neeve, his gaze briefly settling on Miden as the Physician reassured her. There was no mockery in his expression now, only the quiet assessment that came naturally to him. “A giani.”He glanced toward Neeve. “Then perhaps the docks have shown unusual restraint today.” His eyes drifted back toward the wall, then the flowers Gabbi had been examining. “Though I suppose that is the advantage of looking for herbs rather than trouble. One occasionally finds something useful.” A faint smirk appeared. His brow rose slightly at Gabbi’s words, his gaze moving once more toward the wall as though reconsidering the disappointing evidence of Brokk’s encounter. “How to Tame a Sleen.” He let the title hang in the air for a moment. “I suspect the first lesson was poorly understood.” His attention returned to Gabbi as she challenged his expectations. “Perhaps.” His gaze briefly shifted toward Neeve, then back to Gabbi. “Though I wouldn’t call Physicians unusual because they are Physicians.” A pause. “I call them unusual when they willingly walk toward things that most sensible people walk away from.” His eyes settled on her. “Which, if I recall correctly, includes damaged walls, strange herbs, wounded beasts… Assassins?”
[13:03:15] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius) walked off the gangplank of the ship and onto the dock of Avarra. He pulled out his sword…a double katana kept sharp with his always available whetting stones….and then slid the katanas back into their sheaths. On his thigh was a trio of quivas. In various pockets on his belt he carried a bag of readily accessible sand, tharlarion oil, a fire starter, lock picking tools, and a small medical kit with a box containing a vial and needle given by a physician, coin, and some treasured mementos. And hanging off the side of his belt was his multi-bladed fan, a crossbow and bolts, several grapples attached well to various lengths of rope and a flask of water. On his fingers were covered with hook rings, Caste rings. and around his neck and along his arm various daggers. The helmet worn was an homage to his background and Caste. He caught the words of the Caste Master nearby and a feint smirk crossed his face. He moved closer and yet held his tongue.
[13:09:38] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) noticed how Miden’s nerves seemed to increase even further as the man made his way up the steps, though she was pleased to see the girl’s posture settle into something more composed and servile. The small change brought a gentle smile to Neeve’s eyes beneath her veil, and she gave Miden another reassuring pat before turning her attention back to the others.
She listened to Gabbi’s account of Brokk’s unfortunate meeting with the wall, her brow furrowing slightly as she glanced towards the stone. “Well, surely the wall would win?” she asked innocently. “It is rather difficult to imagine even Brokk being stronger than an entire wall.” Her eyes showed a hint of amusement as she looked back to Gabbi, clearly finding the whole story rather entertaining despite herself.
Crow’s words about Physicians earned him a slightly raised brow. “I’ll have you know, I am quite a good shot when I need to be,” she replied, a faint smile touching her lips. “And why would we walk away from something wounded? It doesn’t matter what it is; if it is injured, then surely it needs help. Whether it has claws, teeth, wings… or happens to be an Assassin.” Her gaze flickered briefly towards Crow, the amusement still evident in her eyes.
Then she caught sight of the heavily armed man approaching from the ship, and her attention immediately shifted to Miden. With so much black and enough weapons to outfit a small army, Neeve suspected the poor girl had quite enough excitement for one walk. She moved calmly a little further down the steps, keeping herself between Miden and the newcomer as she gently guided the girl towards a quieter corner, giving her a little space to breathe without making a spectacle of her fear. “Come along, Miden. We can look at the herbs from here for the moment.” Her tone remained soft and reassuring, as though nothing at all was out of the ordinary.
[13:11:21] “Miden” was half beginning to wonder if she was the only one with sense in the group, her instincts telling her ro run but her training rooting her to the spot. And the leash of course. Then another assassin joined the gaggle and she tensed up more, her breath coming just below hyperventilating as she trembled even harder.
She at least kept her posture, even if she didn’t manage to keep her composure particularly well, tension written all throughout her body. Her eyes remained downcast, looking at the stone below and she remained as silent as the dead, save for that rapid breathing.
There was definite signs of relief as she was led a little further away from the pair, a quiet “Thank you, Mistress” heard, as she then pretended to peer at herbs, although her senses were acutely aware of the pair still.
[13:13:28] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi’s expression went utterly still as Crow finished his inventory of things she apparently possessed too little sense to avoid. “I am a Physician, Crow. Running toward what everyone else has the good sense to flee from is rather inconveniently part of the profession.” Her green eyes held his without challenge, but equally without fear. “And your caste does not frighten me simply for existing. I respect what you are. There is a difference.” A faint lift of one brow. “Walking down to the docks hardly qualified as danger.” At least, it hadn’t until Avarra apparently began collecting Assassins. Her gaze shifted toward the newcomer and traveled, quite shamelessly, over the extraordinary assortment strapped, sheathed, hooked and hanging from seemingly every available portion of him. Katanas. Quivas. Daggers. Crossbow. Grapples. Rings. Even a bladed fan. Gabbi blinked once. Then looked at Crow. “Is he here to kill someone or accessorize the women of Avarra? Because I believe he has brought enough for both.” Whatever amusement might have followed died when the breeze shifted off the docks. Gabbi stopped mid-breath. Her face contorted behind the veil as something truly vile assaulted her nose. One hand flew instinctively toward her mouth and she turned aside, swallowing hard against the sudden urge to retch. So much for dignity. “What the fuck died?” Her eyes watered as she stared toward the docks, physician’s curiosity already beginning to overcome her stomach. “And please do not tell me that is another damned sleen.”
[13:17:55] Crow (melchior.wardell) would dip his head towards Vesper when he felt the man approach. Slightly turning to have him somewhat included in this gathering. He watched Neeve guide Miden farther down the steps, his attention following the small movement without comment. The girl’s fear was obvious enough, and he had no interest in making it worse simply by standing there. Then Neeve’s words about wounded things earned a quiet look.”I suppose I should be flattered to have been included among the injured. As for being a good shot, I don’t doubt you. But there is a difference between being capable of shooting something and deciding that shooting it is the best solution.” His attention shifted toward Gabbi and back to Vesper, taking in the impressive collection of weapons Gabbi had just catalogued. The faintest smirk appeared. “As for him…” Crow looked at Vesper with that glint of Koskinen sarcasm.”He claims it’s all necessary. I have yet to determine whether that is true or simply an elaborate expression of poor packing discipline.” at the outburst of what died he arched a brow. “I fear due to my profession I hardly detect that kind of smell.” of course that was untrue.
[13:25:16] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius)’s amber gaze moved slowly toward Gabbi as she conducted what appeared to be a remarkably thorough inventory of everything attached to his person. He said nothing at first. Then Crow offered his assessment of Vesper’s packing discipline. Vesper looked down. His eyes traveled deliberately over the paired katanas, the quivas, crossbow, daggers, grapples, bladed fan, hook rings and the various implements tucked into his belt. He appeared to give the matter serious consideration before looking back up at Gabbi. “No. I dressed lightly for the docks.” His gaze shifted toward Crow. “I left the excessive things aboard.” The faintest shift touched the corner of his mouth before his attention returned to Gabbi. “Though I admit, accessorizing the women of Avarra had not occurred to me. I shall consider diversifying.” Then the wind changed. Unlike Gabbi, Vesper gave no visible reaction to what it carried. His gaze simply moved past her toward the wreckage for a long, quiet moment, as though the answer to her question was both known and considerably less interesting to him than it was about to become to her. His eyes returned to Gabbi. “Not a sleen.” A beat passed. “Probably.” Another beat, “But then again, I have not come across the local warriors of Avarra yet so I dare not hazard a guess as to their toiletry discipline.”
[13:25:45] “Miden” blinked at the words from the physician, and then the smell caught her. Composure? Posture? What was that? She herself moved straight to the ledge, possibly tugging Neeve slightly as she doubled over, hands on the stone ledge and lost her breakfast into the garden, not that she’d had a whole lot. Rather violently at that. She hadn’t seen many dead people in her short life and she certainly hadn’t smelled them and it was about the most vile smell she’d ever smelt. And then the next wave hit, throwing up even more and carrying on it was just bile, the slave looking even more pale than she had before. She was definitely the paragon of kajirahood in that moment…
Throwing up was the last thing the slave had needed, given she was still recovering from malnourishment and wasn’t eating a whole heap as it was. She bolted down fluids, but seemed almost disinterested in food, her body having grown used to not having it. One never gets used to not having fluids though. That would tend to have her added to the stin [13:25:45] “Miden” pile apparently nearby.
At least she managed to yak it into the garden? [13:27:12] Ɓяιηα Hendrix (janet.mai) is online. [13:28:38] Lokeana Doe (aelita.biedermann): stinky* [13:31:08] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) gave Miden’s hand a reassuring squeeze as they moved further down the steps, allowing the girl a little more distance from the gathering. “There you are, just concentrate on the herbs for now,” she murmured, though her attention was soon drawn away as a foul stench began to drift across the water. Being closer to the docks than the others, Neeve caught it – possibly before the others – her nose wrinkling beneath her veil as she slowly turned her head towards the source.
She stepped nearer to the edge and peered across the water, trying to see past the wreckage and whatever remained hidden beyond it. Her expression changed almost immediately, and she let out a long, weary groan before waving one hand slowly in front of her face as though that might somehow make the smell disappear. “Oh dear…” she muttered, staring for another moment before looking back towards Miden.
Her gaze softened as she saw the girl bend over the ledge, and Neeve moved quickly to her side, one hand resting gently between her shoulders as she rubbed her back. “Easy, Miden. Just let it out. Don’t try to fight it.” She glanced briefly back towards the water, then grimaced beneath her veil. “Perhaps the girl should prep the infirmary? I’m not sure she has… seen this sight before.” There was a pause as another unpleasant waft reached them, and Neeve’s nose wrinkled again. “Actually, I think she may have seen quite enough for one day.” She gave Miden another gentle stroke between the shoulders, keeping her attention firmly on the girl rather than whatever horror lay beyond the water. “Go home Miden.” she said simply. She then detached the leash and let the girl run off – knowing that’s what she had wanted the moment their feet had touched the bottom steps and they saw the collection of people.
[13:33:49] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi shot Crow a flat look. “How fortunate for you. I assure you, some of us have retained functioning noses despite our professions.” She had smelled death before. More times than she cared to count. Putrefaction ranked somewhere alongside burning flesh among odors the mind never quite forgot. Her eyes moved toward the wreckage offshore as understanding settled in. “The shipwreck.” Her humor faded. “There were dead among it.” What troubled her was the realization that followed. “Yet not a single body has come through the infirmary for examination or documentation.” Her gaze sharpened toward the water. If they had been left exposed for days, that would certainly explain what the wind had just delivered. Vesper’s remark about Avarra’s Warriors pulled her attention back, and despite herself, one brow rose. “You haven’t encountered them because apparently neither have the rest of us.” She counted casually upon her fingers. “Kaiila. Sleen. Larl. Tarn. Four encounters, and I have yet to see a Warrior arrive before the excitement is over.” A pointed pause. “Come to think of it, our Commander has been equally elusive.” Her tone remained carefully diplomatic, though the criticism beneath it was unmistakable. “One would imagine escaped predators, injured citizens and a shipwreck containing the dead might eventually warrant his attention.” Miden’s violent retching cut through whatever Gabbi might have added. She watched Neeve tend the girl, concern briefly overtaking irritation. When the leash came free and Miden was sent home, Gabbi made no attempt to stop her. “Probably wise.” Her gaze returned toward the wreckage, nose wrinkling as another foul breath of wind rolled in. Then, quieter, to Neeve, “We should find out why those bodies were never brought to us.”
[13:35:29] “Miden” finally stopped throwing up bile, although her stomach kept threatening to release more into the garden. The rubbing at her back definitely soothed her a little, and then the command to head home “Y-yes Mis-” she cut off as anothe retch hit her, but nothing came out “Yes, Mistress” with that she was padding back up the stairs, her arm pressed against her belly. If she could have, she would have definitely run, but she wasn’t up to that. A brisk walk was what she could manage, the girl not even bothering with posture in that moment ((sorry need to go lay down rl, so forgive the double post))
[13:36:09] حكيم Sheikh Jaziran عظيم (anvarra.alecto): “Probably because your skills are for the living not for a dead Neeve”chuckles as he wanders up from the docks
[13:37:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod at Vesper’s assessment. His gaze moved across the city, lingering on the stairs nd the noticeably scarce presence of its Warriors. There were too few of them, and worse, too little evidence that they were actively watching. For a city such as Avarra, that was not merely an observation. It was a concern every citizen should eventually understand. His eyes shifted briefly toward the girl, catching her distress. He released her from his attention almost as quickly. There was nothing to be gained from watching someone suffer. The scent from the wreckage, however, barely disturbed him. He had known worse in his years as a tarnsman, and his work as an Assassin had taught him something else entirely: efficiency. Where others left chaos behind, He preferred his work clean, deliberate, and without unnecessary mess. His attention returned to Vesper for a moment. The bodies had been found days before if not a week. By now, they would undoubtedly be in a considerably worse state. But they were not Crow’s concern. They had not carried the names that had been paid for. A man crossed through the gathering, drawing his attention. His eyes traveled over him in a quick, practiced assessment, stance, clothing, hands, weapons, the way he carried himself. Nothing obvious escaped the habit of a man who had spent a lifetime learning to notice what others overlooked.
[13:43:18] beastofangels stepped further down, smiling at the Women who face i remembered from showing in”Tal Masters, Mistresses”slide down knees with leg closed
[13:43:27] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius) watched the girl retreat up the stairs, his gaze following her only long enough to assure himself that she was no longer his concern before his gaze returned to Gabbi. The humor that had rested faintly upon his features diminished as she began listing the incidents. Kaiila. Sleen. Larl. Tarn. His eyes moved briefly toward Crow. That was no longer an amusing absence. It was a pattern. “Four?” he repeated quietly. His gaze traveled over the docks, the stairs, the approaches into the city, taking stock again of what was present and, perhaps more importantly, what was not. “Then either Avarra possesses remarkably well-behaved predators who have agreed to conduct their affairs around the Warriors’ schedules…” A small pause. “…or someone has mistaken absence for security.” The amber of his eyes shifted toward the wreckage when Gabbi spoke of the bodies. “The dead have been there for days.” There was no disgust in his voice, only observation. “If no one has examined them, then no one knows who they were, precisely how they died, what they carried, where they came from, or whether anything among that wreckage explains why they are dead.” His attention settled on Gabbi. “A corpse is considerably less interesting for being dead, Physician. It is not necessarily less informative.” The approaching man’s voice drew Vesper’s attention then, his eyes moving over him with much the same quiet assessment Crow had given. “And I would imagine a Physician knows better than most that determining why someone is dead can occasionally be useful to those still attempting to remain otherwise.” A glance passed toward Crow, brief but meaningful. Vesper had arrived only recently, but the information was accumulating quickly. “Kaiila. Sleen. Larl. Tarn. A shipwreck full of unexamined dead. No Warriors.” His fingers moved idly against one of the many weapons Gabbi had so diligently inventoried earlier. “Perhaps I should retrieve the excessive things.” He looked toward Gabbi and said, “Physician, while we deal in similar things in different states, do not look past the very shadows that may have a world of information at their fingertips….for the right price.” Vesper knew enough now to make the statement, especially when warriors were scarce if not absent. Information was part of what Assassins could provide.
[13:45:14] حكيم Sheikh Jaziran عظيم (anvarra.alecto): Well I am off to make sure the stalls are still safe and earning money
[13:47:21] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) watched Miden disappear up the steps, her attention lingering on the girl for a moment before she turned back towards the wreckage. Gabbi’s quieter words had not escaped her, and the arrival of Vesper’s observations only seemed to confirm that the bodies had been left there far too long. She looked across the water, squinting slightly as she tried to make out what lay beyond the wreckage, before another foul gust of wind reached her.
Neeve groaned softly and immediately lifted a hand, waving it in front of her face. “Oh, that really is becoming rather unpleasant.” She glanced towards Gabbi, then back towards the wreckage. “We should go and collect them now, if you think you can handle the smell?” Her eyes then shifted towards the two Assassins, and a small, wicked smile appeared beneath her veil. “Though perhaps we should get them to help us. They seem remarkably nose-blind, so they can do the carrying while we do the examining.”
She listened to Vesper’s words, her expression becoming more thoughtful. “You are quite right, though. Being dead does not make someone uninteresting to a Physician. There may still be a great deal we can learn from them, particularly if no one has examined them yet.” Her gaze returned to the wreckage. “We should at least determine who they were and what happened to them. Leaving them out there certainly isn’t going to make the mystery any clearer.”
A faint smirk returned as she glanced towards Vesper and his impressive collection of weapons. “And if your excessive things are needed to retrieve them, I suppose you may bring those too. Though I confess, I was rather hoping today’s walk would involve nothing more dangerous than gathering herbs.” She looked towards Gabbi with a small shake of her head. “It seems we have somehow managed to turn flower collecting into corpse recovery.” She looked to the girl who had descended down the stairs and then to Sheikh who’d arrived in the middle of all this and she smiles to him first before greeting the girl “Tal there. “
[13:50:19] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi squinted toward the water. From where they stood she could barely make out the wreckage, which presented the rather obvious problem Neeve’s enthusiasm had skipped over. “And precisely how are we getting over there?” Her gaze traveled along the docks, recalling the gate and whatever lay beyond it. “There is a gated area down here, if memory serves. I generally make it a habit not to wander through gates without explicit permission.” A dry glance found Neeve. “Rather like the tavern. Unless someone calls for a Physician, I have no business descending some mysterious staircase simply because curiosity suggests something interesting might be at the bottom.” She looked toward the wreck again. “The bodies absolutely should be examined. But I would prefer not to begin the examination by creating two additional corpses requiring retrieval.” The unknown man’s remark drew her attention. “My skills are for the living,” she agreed evenly, “but the dead frequently have something useful to say about what may threaten them.” Vesper’s offer of information earned a longer look. Gabbi understood his meaning perfectly well. “I do not underestimate the value of your caste’s eyes and ears.” Diplomacy softened the words without diminishing them. “Nor am I foolish enough to assume such information comes freely.” Another gust carried the stench toward them and her nose wrinkled. She looked between Neeve and the two remarkably unaffected Assassins. “Though I wholeheartedly support Neeve’s proposal that the gentlemen with defective noses be promoted to corpse retrieval.”
[13:51:48] beastofangels kept silent as the Free spoke, yet paying attention and taking faces in, being quit curious about all was told”Tal Mistress”said in soft sweet whisper, letting hands rest on knees while blowing away a strain of hair that tended to tickle my nose and almost made me sneeze
[13:52:04] حكيم Sheikh Jaziran عظيم (anvarra.alecto): leans over to tap a hand onto Neeve’s shoulder and smile before moving off to the money market and grumble about lousy crates of goods for stock”You should get some hands to gather the corpses and just burn em before flies and disease set upon em let alone beasts and wild things. And if you need burial herbs I can gather a few crates worth of mere ,sage,frankincense and sandalwood.”
[13:54:56] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s gaze shifted toward Neeve as she spoke, and for a moment the faintest hint of amusement touched his expression. “Remarkably nose-blind.” His eyes moved briefly toward Vesper. “That may be the kindest description I’ve heard.” He looked back toward the wreckage, the stench apparently doing little to change his composure. The suggestion of carrying the bodies earned a quiet exhale through his nose. “Very well.”His gaze returned to Neeve.”You examine. We carry.” He stepped closer to the stairs, studying the wreckage and the water beyond it. “So your peaceful herb walk has become corpse recovery.” He would turn to Vesper “Shall we humor them ?” he suggests as ever gallant.
[14:00:10] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius)’s gaze settled upon Crow when he volunteered them both for the work. There was a long silence. Vesper looked toward the distant bodies, then back to Crow, as though attempting to determine whether his father had suffered some recent injury to the head. “We carry?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I believe the Caste of Peasants has thralls for precisely the sort of career advancement you are proposing for us.” A pause. “I have spent considerable effort becoming qualified not to carry corpses I did not make.” The matter apparently settled in his mind, his attention returned to Gabbi. Her acknowledgment that information did not come freely earned the faintest inclination of his head. “Good. Then we understand one another.” He looked toward the wreckage. “You wish to know what happened to those men. We have already stood among them.” His gaze returned to her. “We examined the wreck before the bodies had spent quite so many days ripening in the Avarran sun. We saw the condition of the dead, what remained aboard, what had been restrained there, what escaped, and where the evidence suggested it went.” He let that settle without elaborating. “You have just told us of a kaiila, a sleen, a larl and a tarn appearing within your city. That makes certain things we observed several days ago considerably more interesting than they were then.” His eyes shifted briefly toward Crow before returning to the Physician. “One silver for what I observed. One silver for what he observed. Two Killers, two sets of eyes, two silver. Between us, Physician, you may find that your examination has already begun…and the solution is also known by us.” A glance went toward the bodies again. “As for bringing your patients to you, employ a thrall. I deal professionally in creating the occasional corpse. Delivery is an entirely separate service.”
[14:06:53] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) glanced between Gabbi and the wreckage beyond the water, then back towards the gated area with a thoughtful frown. “Well, we will need to open this said gate if we wish to explore how to get there, I think. Unless there is a small boat hidden somewhere that we can use to get from here to there…” She looked out over the water for a moment before giving a small shake of her head. “No, I really don’t fancy that either. I’ll take the dry route, thank you.” She gave Gabbi a small, amused smile. “And I agree, I would rather not add ourselves to the list of bodies needing to be examined.”
Neeve felt the gentle tap upon her shoulder and turned, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected gesture. There was something almost kind about it, and after a brief pause she gave the Sheikh a polite nod, though he was already making his way towards the money market before she could ask him to lend a hand with the bodies. “Thank you,” she murmured, watching him leave before turning back to the others. “I suppose that answers one question at least. We shall need to get the bodies somewhere safe before anything else gets to them.”
Neeve then listened carefully as Vesper explained that he and Crow had already examined the wreckage, her expression becoming more serious as she absorbed the information. “Now that is useful information,” she admitted, looking between the two Assassins. “If you have already seen the wreck and the condition of the bodies before they were left there to…” She paused, wrinkling her nose slightly as another foul breeze reached her. “…ripen, then I would certainly like to know what you discovered.”
She glanced towards Crow when he offered his services as a carrier, then towards Vesper as he rather firmly separated corpse-making from corpse-delivery. Upon hearing about the call for coin, She looked towards Gabbi. “If you wish to pay for their observations, perhaps we should make good use of what they know before we go opening gates and crossing water in search of answers.” Her gaze returned to the wreckage. “And once we know what we are dealing with, we can decide whether those bodies still need bringing back to the infirmary. Although either way, we need to stop the stink. So something or someone needs to go over there to do that at least.” She did not want to ignore the slave by her feet so leant down and whispered in her ear “Are you an infirmary girl at all? We might need some preparations done.”
[14:08:20] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi’s head turned sharply toward Sheikh. “Thank you, Merchant, but I believe the Physicians can determine whether bodies require examination before you prescribe fire as their treatment.” Her tone was perfectly courteous. Almost. “Should we require incense afterward, I shall remember where to shop.” Then Vesper spoke. Whatever humor had occupied Gabbi’s features disappeared. “You were already there.” Her gaze moved between Vesper and Crow, stone cold now. “You stood among those bodies days ago. You knew they were there, knew beasts had escaped, examined what restrained them and followed evidence of where they went.” Her voice remained measured, which was usually when Gabbi was most angry. “Yet neither of you thought perhaps the Physicians should be informed that there were dead requiring documentation and burial, or living citizens about to share their streets with whatever escaped?” Then came the price. Two silver. Gabbi stared at Vesper for several Ihn before something almost resembling a smile touched beneath her veil. “No.” One small word. Entirely polite. “I respect your caste far too much to confuse valuable intelligence with information that should have been reported days ago.” Her head tilted. “And I suspect you are far too clever to believe I would pay you for withholding it until the consequences wandered through my infirmary.” Her eyes flicked toward Crow, then returned to Vesper. “Keep your two silver’s worth, Killer. I have corpses, wreckage, escaped animals and four separate encounters from which to draw conclusions. Physicians are remarkably good at diagnosis.” A beat. “And now I have learned something considerably more interesting than what lies aboard that ship.” Her brow lifted. “Who knew.”
[14:12:41] beastofangels gave a soft bite to my upper lip, showing a nervous twitch, hating myself if i felt like faling”No Mistress but i am eager to learn” my voice driven by the wind to Your ears as the conversation went on, which was very interesting. Shifting a bit on my knees, seeming to move closer to the Mistress
[14:14:02] Crow (melchior.wardell) regarded Vesper in silence for several heartbeats. The expression on his face remained perfectly composed, though there was a distinct glint of amusement in his eyes. “Creating corpses, apparently, falls within your professional qualifications.” His gaze drifted toward the bodies. “Carrying them does not.”A small nod followed, as though this distinction had now been properly recorded. “Noted.” He turned his attention back to Gabbi, the humor fading into something more focused as Vesper explained what they had already discovered. The wreck. The restraints. What had escaped. The trail. “He’s correct.That is no longer a collection of unfortunate accidents” His gaze returned to the wreckage. “Something was being transported.” Then, quieter: “Something got out.” He listened as Neeve considered the situation, his gaze moving briefly toward the gate and then back to the wreckage. Her reluctance to swim earned the faintest twitch of amusement. “Wise. Do not worry. I have the key to that gate.” he stated. His gaze settled on her. “Information first. Decisions afterward.” He looked toward Vesper for a moment, then back to the Physicians. His eyes moved to Gabbi as she spoke, and for several moments he said nothing. Her refusal was delivered without hostility, but there was enough steel beneath the words to make the point clear.He could respect that. “Fair. We could have made that distinction sooner.” There was no apology in the words, but neither was there defensiveness. Simply an acknowledgment. “Still I think these men were already dead and from what I know of dead bodies, they never get more dead than they already were.”
[14:17:36] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius) tilted his head, he understood arrogance when he encountered it. He had that beaten out of him hundreds of years back. His head tilted in the other direction, his eyes never moving from Gabbi now. “Well, of course, you know best.” His voice was dry, without any form of tone to it. His Caste had multiple lessons that taught him what the purpose of the Black Caste was, mercy was not one of those lessons, in fact, the opposite was. He could have simply walked away. He thought of doing so. He held position for only one reason and that he kept to himself.
[14:25:53] Neeve Barbosa (kristie.tigerpaw) listened quietly as the exchange between Gabbi and the two Assassins unfolded, her attention settling on Crow when he admitted that they had known about the bodies for days. Her expression became noticeably more disappointed, and she shook her head slowly. “Crow… I must admit, I am rather disappointed to hear that you already knew about all of this.” Her voice remained calm, but there was a clear firmness beneath it. “I understand that they were already dead, and no, they cannot become any more dead than they already are, but that does not mean they should simply be left there.” Neeve took another glance towards the wreckage, her eyes narrowing slightly. “The dead still deserve some dignity. They deserve to be identified if that is possible, properly examined, and eventually given a decent burial rather than being left exposed to the elements and whatever creatures happen to find them.” She looked back towards Crow. “And if there was something being transported that escaped, then surely informing the Physicians would have been useful, even if only so we could be prepared for whatever might eventually turn up in our infirmary.” She gave a small sigh, her gaze moving between Crow and Vesper. “I am not asking you to do a Physician’s work, nor am I suggesting you should have brought the bodies yourselves. But a simple word to someone responsible for the infirmary would have been enough.” Her expression softened slightly, though the disappointment remained. “We cannot tend to people or protect a city from what we do not know about.” Neeve then glanced towards the girl as she edged a little closer, giving her a reassuring smile. “And you, girl, stay close. There is plenty to learn today, although perhaps not quite the lesson that perhaps one should start with.” She looked back towards the wreckage and gave another quiet sigh. “I think we have quite enough to investigate now.” She would then begin to wonder up the stairs hoping the rest would perhaps follow her.
[14:28:27] beastofangels returned the smile, rising with grace and starting to follow Her, giving all present a soft nod and wiggle of fingers “yes Mistress”
[14:29:54] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi’s gaze remained on Vesper. His dry concession did not move her an inch. “Do not mistake refusal for ignorance, Killer.” Her voice was quiet. “I know enough of your caste to understand you owe Avarra neither mercy nor civic duty. You are not Warriors. You are certainly not corpse bearers, and unless one of those dead carried a name upon which coin was paid, I imagine their fate concerned you very little.”A slight tilt of her head. “But you offered information for a price. I declined it. That is commerce, not arrogance.” Her eyes held his. “If what you know is worth two silver to me, eventually I shall discover that. If it is not, I have saved two silver. Either way, threatening me with my own ignorance is unlikely to improve its value.” Then Crow mentioned the key. Gabbi looked toward the gate, then the barely visible wreckage beyond it. Suddenly the problem seemed considerably simpler. “We needn’t retrieve them at all.” Her physician’s mind had already shifted to logistics. “If they cannot reasonably be brought to the infirmary, we bring the infirmary to them. Instruments, gloves, linens, specimen jars, writing materials. We examine them where they lie.” Days beneath the Avarran sun would mean advanced decomposition. She grimaced. “There may not be much intact tissue left, but bones, wounds, clothing, bindings and whatever remains with them can still tell us something.” Her gaze found Neeve. “Afterward we build a pyre, assuming that is permitted. I will not have them simply thrown into the water and contaminate it further.” Then her attention returned to Vesper. “And if your observations prove something my examination cannot?” The smallest smile touched beneath her veil. “Then perhaps your price will become considerably more persuasive.”
[14:34:29] Crow (melchior.wardell) listened to Neeve without interruption. He watched her for a moment as she spoke, taking in the disappointment behind her words rather than simply the words themselves. When she finished, he gave a slow nod. “You’re right.” There was no attempt to argue. No sarcasm this time. “The dead deserved better than to be left there. And the living deserved to know what had escaped.” His gaze moved briefly toward the wreckage. “We should have passed the information to the Physicians.” A quiet pause. “That was an oversight.” He watched Neeve begin to make her way up the steps, then glanced toward Vesper. His expression carried the faintest trace of dry resignation. “Apparently we have been properly diagnosed.” He looked once more toward the gate and the distant wreckage. “We know what we saw. Now they know enough to act on it.” His eyes followed Neeve for a moment before returning to the others. “That is probably the better outcome.” Then, with the faintest hint of his usual humor: “And I suspect the next time we discover something unpleasant, the Physicians will prefer a message before it begins walking into their infirmary.” The fact that he was not part of the Home Stone. Did not carry the obligations nor the privileges of it he left unsaid. He did not battle their tongues. “I am just surprised .. that none found them who surely must have been sent to search.” again that hint of what he believed was far more urgent than telling two assassins who had been there to protect – free of charge – no less while several citizens had been nearly attacked.
[14:41:20] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius)’s gaze moved to Crow as he conceded the courtesy of notice but not the duty. When his father finished, Vesper gave a slight inclination of his head. “An oversight, perhaps. An obligation, no. We do not hold Avarra’s Home Stone, wear its scarlet or green, nor have we been retained by its officials. No contract was sealed and no coin crossed a palm. Yet we investigated when apparently those charged to do so did not.” His attention returned to Gabbi. “Courtesy freely given should not be confused with duty owed. But you are correct about one thing, Physician. You declined two silver because you believe you can acquire the information yourself. That is commerce.” He gestured faintly toward the wreckage. “Go. Examine your dead. Examine the wreckage. Draw your conclusions. I sincerely hope you find everything we found. If not, you are welcome to ask again.” The corner of his mouth shifted almost imperceptibly. “Only do not assume today’s price survives until tomorrow. Information does not possess a fixed value. Two silver was the price when you merely had questions. Certainty becomes considerably more expensive when consequences establish the urgency of the solution.” A beat. “But perhaps you will discover everything yourself. Think of the two silver you will have saved each time another patient enters your infirmary.”
[14:48:43] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi looked at Crow, and somehow the expression she gave him was worse than anger. Her brows lifted slightly, lips pressed beneath the veil, disappointment written plainly across her features. “You should have told us.” Nothing more was needed. After a moment, her expression softened. “I know you owe Avarra nothing, Crow. Neither of you do. And considering the remarkable absence of those who do, I appreciate that your caste has been watching when apparently no one else was.” Her eyes narrowed faintly. “I simply prefer not learning about danger when it arrives bleeding through my infirmary door.” Then Vesper continued. Gabbi slowly turned toward him. “You do enjoy hearing yourself negotiate.” There was no heat in it. If anything, she appeared entertained now. “Today it is two silver. Tomorrow, perhaps four. Another patient arrives and suddenly I require a financing arrangement.” A tiny shrug followed. “Unfortunately for your business model, urgency does not make me more inclined to purchase certainty. It makes me more inclined to investigate.”She stepped toward the stairs, then paused. “And I have assumed nothing about your obligations. Quite the opposite. You investigated because you chose to. You withheld what you learned because you could. Now you offer to sell it because you may.” Her gaze settled steadily upon him. “All perfectly consistent with your caste.” A smile barely touched beneath her veil. “But if you intended to frighten a Physician into paying by reminding her that people may arrive wounded while she remains ignorant, you have misunderstood this particular Physician.” She glanced toward the wreck. “People arrive wounded. I treat them. People die. I learn from them. Information becomes expensive only when I cannot obtain it elsewhere.” Then back to Vesper. “So perhaps you should hope I don’t find everything you did. Otherwise tomorrow your information will not be worth four silver.”A beat passed.“…….It will be worth nothing.”
[14:53:10] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained where he was, listening to Gabbi’s final words without interruption. There was no offense in his expression. If anything, the Physician’s answer seemed to earn a quiet measure of respect. “Then we understand each other.” His gaze settled on her. “You don’t frighten easily. And you don’t purchase information simply because someone tells you it is valuable.” A faint, dry smile touched his mouth. His eyes moved briefly toward the wreckage. “But you are right about the important part.” A pause. “We could have told you.” Crow glanced toward Vesper, then back to Gabbi. “Not because Avarra is entitled to what we discover.” His voice remained calm. “Because people were living here. And whatever escaped that ship eventually became their problem.” He let the words settle. “As for the value of the information…” The faint smile returned. His eyes narrowed slightly toward the wreckage. “But if your investigation proves that what we found was incomplete, then perhaps the information wasn’t worth two silver after all. Perhaps it was worth more.” Crow turned his attention toward the city. “And that is usually how useful information works.” He looked back once toward Gabbi. “It becomes valuable when someone knows what to do with it.” He had dealt with women such as her way too often and way too long to truly be effected by it. Little did they seem to understand what they were. He wasn’t a knight in shiny armor or an cuddle assassin. He was a murderer and any information he gathered was his to sell. “I wish you well, lady.” he added as to indicate the conversation had ended.
[14:55:21] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius) regarded her for several quiet ihn, his expression giving nothing away. There was no correction, no defense of his intentions, and certainly no further attempt to sell her anything. At last, the faintest suggestion of amusement touched his eyes for how much she had misunderstood everything about him, but he would not waste his breath in correcting her. “You know best, Physician…” A small inclination of his head. “…of course you do.”
[14:59:21] Gabbi Del-Moro (gabbisapphire): Gabbi held Crow’s gaze as he spoke, allowing him every word without interruption. There were reasons she regarded his caste with a respect neither man standing before her would ever fully understand. Old reasons. Family reasons. Reasons rooted in protection, blood and debts that had nothing to do with fear. But respect had never required Gabbi Del-Moro to become small. At his final dismissal, one brow lifted. “I believe we do understand one another.” Her voice remained measured. “I have never mistaken either of you for knights, guardsmen, or men obligated to protect this city. I know precisely what your caste is.” Her gaze moved briefly between them. “Perhaps that is why I can appreciate what you have done without pretending I must agree with everything you choose to do.” Then came the faintest smile beneath her veil. “And Crow? You may dismiss the conversation. You do not dismiss me.” No anger. No challenge. Simply fact. She inclined her head respectfully toward both men. “I wish you well, Killers.” Then Gabbi turned away first. There were bodies decomposing beyond a gate, an infirmary to prepare, and apparently an entire wreck investigation that had gone unattended. She had spent quite enough time debating the price of answers with men who already possessed them. She started up the stairs without looking back. If Vesper wished to discover whether his information would appreciate in value, he was welcome to wait. Gabbi intended to depreciate it herself.
[15:03:27] Hosokawa Kinsei – Vesper™ 細川金星 (razius) looked to Crow, “She still needs to get beyond that gate.” he said with a dry tone as the woman moved beyond ear shot. “May she have luck with that as well.” He knew full well that Crow and he had the keys and perhaps few others.
[06:00:17] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s rounds through Avarra had become almost habitual by now. He moved without hurry, his attention drifting naturally across the streets, faces, doors and the small details most people passed without a second glance. He slowed near Eva’s Perfume establishment. Something was wrong. His eyes settled first on the middle doorway or what remained of it. The door had been violently destroyed, glass scattered across the shop floor and the stairs outside. Splintered wooden beams lay in the street, while inside, one of the displays had been knocked over, its wares broken across the floor. He did not immediately enter. Instead, his eyes traveled over the damage with the detached precision of someone accustomed to examining scenes after something had happened. Broken glass. Torn wood. A fallen display. He looked at the frame of the doorway, studying the direction of the damage and searching for anything that might tell him how it had happened. “That wasn’t an accident.” His gaze moved slowly across the street. No weapon was drawn. No immediate threat presented itself. But he had learned long ago that a quiet street did not necessarily mean an empty one. He stepped closer, careful not to disturb the glass, and examined the splintered beams. “Someone wanted their way through.” His eyes shifted toward the interior of the perfume establishment. “And judging by the mess…” A faint narrowing of his eyes. “…they weren’t particularly concerned with being invited.”
[06:04:58] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s attention shifted as he noticed the details that had been hidden at first glance. The shattered door was one thing. The blood was another. He crouched near the edge of the steps without touching anything, his eyes following the faint trail inward. “Blood.” His gaze moved from the entrance toward the display. Something had entered wounded. Or had been wounded after entering. The damaged food display drew his attention next. A few treats had clearly been eaten, others crushed into the surface and carpet. The large dent in the display suggested considerable force, while the long damage across the carpet caught his attention more than the scattered food. “Something came through here.” His eyes followed the trail carefully as it continued out of the Book Nook and toward the neighboring perfume establishment. Crow slowly straightened. “From the Book Nook… into the perfume shop.” He looked back toward the shattered doorway, then down at the blood once more. The destruction was not random. There was a direction to it. A trail. And he had learned that trails were rarely accidental. He stepped toward the Book Nook, deliberately avoiding the blood and debris. “Now the question is whether it was looking for the food…” His gaze settled on the blood trail. “…or whether the food simply happened to be in its way.” A faint narrowing of his eyes. “Either way, something wounded is moving through Avarra.” He glanced toward the street, quietly checking the surroundings before following the evidence any further. “And I doubt it stopped at the next shop.” his thoughts back to the tarn of the other day.
[06:12:33] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) cries out, her body tilting backwards until she stumbles down a few steps. Her clothes, barely miss the large paw of the beast, train flailing in the wind but catching slightly on one claw. The thin fabrics tears, not so much as a tug allowing her to regain her footing as she falls, hands hitting the ground with a thud. Her eyes fly wide, breathing increasing with growing fear, as there was nothing around to assist her. Nothing to ensure a bit of hope that she could get out of this situation uninjured. She stays on the step, hands stinging from the blow of her fall, gaze never wavering from the larl. “Stay back,” she calls out, voice shaking from both being out of breath, and the adrenaline of her predicament
[06:14:44] Crow (melchior.wardell) stopped. Ahead, the sight of the black larl immediately changed the rhythm of his rounds. He knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. A larl could be trained, handled, even trusted by someone who knew it well, but that did not make its teeth any less capable of ending a man. His eyes moved first to the beast, studying its posture, ears, tail and breathing. Then to Zareen standing before it. Was she controlling the animal? Was it accustomed to her presence? Or was she simply standing very close to something that had not yet decided what it wanted to do? He made no sudden movement. His hand remained well away from his weapons as he stopped at a respectful distance, his body turned slightly rather than presenting himself squarely to the larl. “Easy…” The word was directed toward the animal, quiet and even. His voice was calm, firm. His eyes never left the black larl. “Slowly. Stay where you are.” he called to Zareen. He watched the animal’s head, shoulders and paws, looking for the smallest indication of whether it was preparing to advance. A trained beast might respond to its handler. An untamed one might interpret sudden movement as an invitation. “Don’t make any sudden movements. Let me determine what we are dealing with before either of us makes a mistake.”
[06:17:40] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): The larl wasn’t in the least bit put off by the woman telling her to stay back. She lunged forward, about to attempt another vicious swipe when the game changed. Another human was there adn she’d abort her lung, hind legs slamming into the ground as she sat back on her haunches, circling around to appraise the situation, tail swishing wildly as she paced back and forth. The fact it was only attempting to use its paws and not its teeth was a clear sign the creature was being more playful than hungry…
[06:22:44] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) hears a voice, somewhere from behind her perhaps, but not once does she turn to face it. She sits, back straight, eying the creature with spinning thoughts. The train that had been torn, flutters to her side, landing softly on the ground beside her. “It’s a bit late for sudden movements,” she calls out, unsure if her voice would carry the distance. There was a throb to her hands, and she was sure that the skin of her palms would be scraped. Even still, she pushes up, rising once more to her feet on shaky legs. “Back,” she commands unsteadily. In all her years, she was not familiar with the ways or training of a larl, but she was familiar with the game of survival. “Stay back,” she repeats more fiercely, her own body stepping behind her to lower on the stairs
[06:26:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the larl circle, his attention following the swishing tail and shifting weight rather than the teeth. The change in posture does not escape him. His shoulders ease by a fraction, though he makes no attempt to approach. His gaze flicks briefly toward Zareen before returning to the larl. “Don’t run. Whatever you do, don’t make yourself the more interesting target.” A faint, dry smile touches his mouth. “And perhaps someone should explain to your companion that greeting people with claws is considered poor manners.” Whoever said that Assassins had no sense of humor, clearly hadn’t met Crow. His eyes remained fixed on the larl as Zareen rises. Her command earns only the slightest tilt of his head. The animal’s attention remains on her, but its posture still lacks the commitment of a true attack. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “The sudden movement has already happened.” His gaze flicks briefly to her scraped hands before returning to the beast. “Don’t back away any faster. Let it decide that following you is less interesting than whatever else has caught its attention.” He shifts one measured step sideways, placing himself where the larl can see him without blocking its view of Zareen. “Easy…” he murmurs again, voice calm and even.
“So you are two.” he stated to the animal. He had left his home with enough weapons to either end or correct the animal. But he was very much aware that he was no match if the animal would simply leap their way.
[06:29:05] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): The larl lilted her head, an ancient memory triggered in it from when she had been a tamed best. A soft growl came, but she backed up, her eyes still pinned on the pair. Her demeanor changed slightly, both aggression and playfulness leaving her as she stilled, no longer pacing, no longer hunting.
She was still far from the tamed beast she used to be but it was apparent that it had been some time since she’d been under the command of a human, more than half wild now. It turned, keeping half an eye on them as it went to the top of the stairs and onto the small landing there, keeping a wary eye on the pair.
[06:34:42] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) turns her head then, looking for a long moment over her shoulder at the man dressed solely in black. Her eyes narrow slightly, though nothing of true anger behind their depths. “I can’t be anything but interesting. My presence isn’t one that can be dimmed,” she says slightly haughtily. Her head turns, and she brings her attention back to the beast once more. It retreats, further in the direction she was once going and she releases a breath of relief. “For the best,” she says, trembling hands brushing down the front of her dress. She turns, looking to the man more fully now and crossing her arms. “And what is someone such as you doing on this day?” she asks, clearing her throat as the fear dwindles from her veins. Every so often, her gaze shifts in the direction of where the larl once stood.
[06:37:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) studies the change carefully, watching the larl’s ears, the angle of its head, and the way it withdraws rather than advancing. The soft growl earns no reaction from him. He simply remains where he is, giving the beast the distance it has chosen. “Good,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His attention shifts briefly to Zareen. His mouth twitches faintly at her words, though whether it is amusement or simple acknowledgement is difficult to tell. His gaze follows hers toward the landing for another moment before returning to her. “I had noticed,” he says dryly. “You do seem to possess a certain talent for attracting attention.” He glances down at the black covering him, then back to her. “As for what I’m doing…” He pauses, considering how much of an answer she has actually earned. “Walking. Observing. Learning the city.” His eyes briefly travel toward the damaged shops and the direction in which the larl disappeared. “Today, apparently, that includes avoiding hungry beasts and investigating why one of them has decided Avarra is its dining hall.” He looks back to her, expression calm. “And you? Aside from commanding larls and making yourself impossible to overlook?”
[06:42:07] нαzєℓ ßιαςкωợợd (jasmine.vandyke): The larl saw nothing more that interested it in the pair, starting to slowly stalk off while keeping its ears flicked back to listen for any movement of an advance towards her, the large feline having all the grace that came with being exactly that. Its tail swished as it continued on its way, giving a hard shake of its head and a loud yawn. Thankfully for the woman, she had feasted on the supplies the inn, tavern and cafe had had to offer and ancient memories in training had resurfaced. it would appear the danger had passed for now.
[06:44:22] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) studies him, her gaze falling upon each aspect of him silently. There is no comment made, only a quiet appraisal of the man before she finally speaks. “Do you read?” she asks, never one to assume things about anyone. Again, she glances up the stone stairs, her breath bated in preparation to run if needed. “There have been many signs around the city that speak of the beasts…..I simply never expected to run into one…..call it naive hope for the safety of my well being.” She sighs, shoulders relaxing a bit more. “What is it that you have learned of the city? Beyond perhaps that there is danger lurking within its gardened walls.”
[06:47:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the larl move away, noting the relaxed tail, the yawn, and the absence of any further interest in them. Only once the beast has put sufficient distance between them does he allow himself to focus more upon Zareen. “That,” he murmurs, “went considerably better than it might have.” He considers the question for a moment, his eyes briefly following hers toward the stairs before returning to her. “Do I read?” A faint hint of amusement touches his expression. “Yes. It is generally more useful than pretending to know things.” His gaze moves across the street, taking in the buildings, the people moving through them, the signs of recent disturbances. “As for what I’ve learned…” He was weighing his words. “Not enough yet to claim I understand Avarra.” he paused there once more. “The beasts are another matter. Signs of them were visible before I encountered one. That tells me the danger isn’t entirely unexpected. What interests me is how prepared the city actually is to deal with it. Signs tell you something is wrong. They don’t tell you who is responsible for fixing it.” His gaze returns to her, quietly curious. “Isn’t it irony, that a man that murders for his profession, sees to your safety while the warriors are no where to be found?”
[06:57:42] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) hums, fingers extending to their fullest length, deliberately avoiding her palms that still stung. “I must be inclined to agree with you,” she says looking down at the train of her dress. “I will take torn fabrics over an injury….or worse, the loss of my life. I should have known better than to leave home without my dagger, but I was in a rush. Foolish of me,” she mutters. “Avarra is beautiful in its own right. There is much to be studied and learned…..preferably without the presence of such animals destroying the beauty of it.” In her mind, an image of the poster floods her and she shrugs a bit. “Is it not the people of the city’s responsibility to deal with it. We each have a purpose, a role in which contributes to our society. The responsibility lies not on one person or caste….Although, for someone who murders for a profession, would it not be in your line of work to handle the beasts?” she asks, a small smile touching the corners of her lips beyond her veil. “I suppose I should thank you for your assistance. I am sure your presence helped scare off the larl.”
[07:02:21] Crow (melchior.wardell) gives a quiet huff of amusement at her final remark, his gaze settling on the torn fabric before returning to her. “Scare it off?” he says, almost thoughtfully. “I would prefer not to give myself that much credit.” he glances toward the direction the larl disappeared. “It had eaten. You were no longer particularly interesting to it. I merely happened to be standing there when it decided to leave.” He looks back to her, the faintest trace of dry humor in his voice. “As for your dagger… forgetting it once is foolish. Forgetting it twice would be a lesson. But I doubt it would have done you any good. The moment you were able to stab, the animal was already way to close.” He folds his arms loosely. “And no. Killing is part of my profession. That does not mean every creature that inconveniences a city becomes my target.” His expression grows slightly more serious. “Though I will admit… I’m becoming increasingly curious about where these beasts came from.” His eyes return to her. “And curiosity has a habit of becoming work.”
[07:09:02] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) purses her lips. “It is a good day when the killers are preoccupied with things beyond the murder of others.” She looks him over again and raises a brow. “You aren’t working now are you?” A pause. “Actually it is best if I do not know, but for one who is wanted by the warriors, you walk without much fear. Do you think yourself immune to being thrown into prison upon capture?” Subconsciously, she reaches for the empty space at her hip. “Foolish indeed,” she repeats softly, the words being carried only barely by the wind. “I will do well to remember.”
[07:11:48] Crow (melchior.wardell) regards her for a long moment, one brow lifting slightly at the question. His expression remains almost entirely unreadable. “Immune?” A quiet breath of amusement escapes him. “No.” His gaze briefly travels over the street. “Warriors have every right to arrest me if they believe they have cause. Whether they can keep me there is a separate question.” He adjusts his stance, relaxed rather than careless. “Fear has its uses. So does knowing when it is unnecessary.” A faint smirk touches his mouth. “And at this particular moment, I’m not working. If I were…”, looking at her pointedly, “…you would probably be better off not asking.” He lets the silence sit for a heartbeat before adding dryly: “Though I suppose you already arrived at that conclusion.”
[07:17:48] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) nods her head in agreement. “I am sure they would love to have one such as yourself stand on trial, but I am also sure that one such as yourself does not leave behind traces that would give them cause to do so,” she says with a slight laugh. It is short but there nonetheless. “I know a great many things. I am a physician’s apprentice, we see all. Perhaps more of your own kind as well even if we do not realize it. We work in tandem with you….in a way. You make more work for us.” Her eyes narrow again and she point at him. “I do love my work, but it is never a good day when I have to do it,” she says, wincing a bit when her fingers curl onto her scraped palm.
[07:20:17] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s eyes drop to her hand as her fingers curl against the scraped palm. For a moment, the amusement fades, replaced by the practical assessment of someone accustomed to noticing injuries. “Physician’s apprentice,” he repeats, looking back to her. “That explains the questions.” A faint smirk returns. “And perhaps explains why you seem entirely too comfortable discussing what my kind does.” His gaze settles once more on her injured hand. “As for making work for Physicians…” He pauses. “I suppose that depends on the Physician.” He gestures subtly toward her palm. “You’re making work for one right now.” His expression remains perfectly dry.
[07:25:13] Zareen Barbosa (tinylulu) huffs and lowers her hand. “One can only learn if one asks questions….I do not ask that many,” she adds, the words sounding almost petulant. “It is not my fault that beasts decided to take over the city. I was between losing my life or falling down the stairs….” She gestures to the space where they stand. “I chose the latter of course. A few scraps is much more manageable, and with the right salve, it’ll be healed before the day ends.”
[07:28:40] Crow (melchior.wardell) gives her a sidelong look, the faintest hint of amusement touching his expression at the petulant defense. “Of course not. You simply ask questions until people begin to suspect you’re collecting answers.” His gaze drops briefly to her palm again as she lowers it. “And you chose correctly. Stairs are considerably less troublesome than claws.Though I wouldn’t be quite so confident about being healed before the day ends. Salve can do much. It cannot make poor decisions disappear.” Suddenly his attention is taken once again. “Best to stay low, lady.” as he starts to advance to see where the tarn was heading.
[07:31:58] Tweet (voraciousbirb) had been circling above the Scribe’s hall for a while until he advanced for the stairs. His gaze swept the area, barely noticing the humans below, he was looking for something. A few droplets of blood fell down upon the steps before he flew back towards the Scribe’s hall and crashed down where a trail of blood led into the building.
The tarn straightened himself, that massive head lowered to rearrange the cut feathers and trying to pick at them to pull them out of the claw wound on his stomach. Blood still dripped down, landing on his feet and the ground beneath him.
[07:32:28] Crow (melchior.wardell)’s attention shifts abruptly upward, his eyes catching movement against the sky. For a moment he says nothing, simply tracking the tarn as it circles above the city. His expression changes almost imperceptibly. “I know that tarn.” He watches its flight, remembering the scarred bird from the wreckage and the broken cage yesterday. His gaze follows every turn, every correction of its wings. He watches it descend toward the Scribe’s Hall, then hears the faint patter of blood striking the stone. He moves toward the stairs, his attention fixed on the trail of blood rather than the massive bird itself. He stops several paces away, giving the tarn room, his eyes narrowing as he studies the trail. “Yesterday you were hunting.” His gaze shifts briefly toward the Scribe’s Hall, then back to the tarn. “Today you’re wounded.” He crouches slightly, examining the blood on the steps without reaching toward the bird. “And you’ve come here looking for something.” A quiet pause. Crow’s expression hardens with recognition. “Whatever you’re looking for, … it seems something found you first.”
[07:37:32] Tweet (voraciousbirb) let out another screech after the human spoke, his wings spread momentarily and he’d carry that massive body over to the the first door, nudging at the broken window with his beak. He couldnt fit in there, but something must have taken his attention. The tarn was out for revenge after his failure the day prior, however that furry four legged beast hid better within the buildings and he was too large to go snoop around.
[07:41:07] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn move toward the broken window, his eyes narrowing as the pieces begin to fit together. He doesn’t approach the tarn, instead following its attention toward the building. “So that’s what you’re after.” He would approach careful and slow. Hoping the animal understood that he meant no harm due to prior experiences. He was sure the animal remembered. They always did. He studies the tarn’s wound again. “You’re trying to get inside?” he asked wondering if the animal searched the Larl he had encounted a moment ago.
[07:44:40] Tweet (voraciousbirb) began to remove the glass shards poking out from the door frame, tossing them aside until nothing was there that may injure someone who decided to walk in. Sure, the human could have just opened the door but the tarn didnt think that far, he was hunting still and he wanted someone or something to go shoo out whatever may be inside, if, it was inside.
There was no sign of threat towards the two-legger, having remembered he pose no threat to him the day before and let him eat in peace. The feathered creature also recalled the other one who accompanied him too, but he was not present. Inside the building was blood on the wall, on the curtain and more trails leading through the Scribe’s hall.
[07:48:28] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn clear the remaining shards from the frame, his expression remaining unreadable. He had expected the animal to simply force its way through. Instead, it had removed the danger from the doorway. “Considerate,” he murmurs dryly. He steps closer to the now-cleared entrance, but pauses before coming to close. His eyes move over the blood on the wall, the curtain, and the trail disappearing deeper into the Scribe’s Hall. He looks back “You want me to go in there?” He studies the tarn’s wound again, then the blood trail. “You’re bleeding badly enough that following your quarry may leave you unable to finish what you started.” It wouldn’t be a first that he tended to a injured tarn. His own loyal companion was harmed more than once.
[07:52:45] Tweet (voraciousbirb) required help, so he tried to show the need of assistance. The tarn was not wild, he had a rider before yet during a war, the man was shot off the back of the black beast and the large bird tried to save him, which ended up with him diving into the water yet all hope was too late. Men retrieved the tarn and the body, burning the remains of the corpse and the tarn was not able to be handled due to grief. They had opted to bring the bird away, to find another place where he may forget what happened, so, the beast wasnt just wild and free, there was some training still in him.
With his head lowering, that beak scratched along the stone wall and he’d sit, as if waiting for something. Those yellow eyes fixated upon the human and he made no more anymore.
[07:56:37] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn settle, the movement of its massive body oddly deliberate. His eyes remain on those yellow eyes, studying the bird rather than the blood for a moment. There was something familiar in the posture now. Not obedience exactly. Expectation. His gaze shifts briefly toward the wound before returning to the tarn. He steps closer, but slowly, giving the bird every opportunity to object. “You remembered me from yesterday. You remembered I did not threaten you.” He glances toward the blood trail disappearing into the Scribe’s Hall. “And now you’ve brought me here.” He studies the bird’s face, then the injured feathers around its stomach. “You’re trained.” The realization comes with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “Not tame. Not anymore. But trained.” “Let’s see if you can trust a Black Caste Assassin long enough to let me look at that wound.” He extends one empty hand, palm visible, but does not yet touch the tarn.
[08:02:47] Tweet (voraciousbirb) ‘s head tilted a bit as the extended hand was offered, palm visible yet nothing in hand. He’d lower his head with that same tilt, casting his gaze up onto that hand and let it travel back to his face. The tarn didnt snap at him, he didnt even puff himself up, remaining there rather calmly even though he was hunting something and believed it could still be inside.
Any sound from within the Scribe’s Hall would have been noticed should something stir and move around, but it was completely silent.
His large feet shifted a bit, pushing themselves over the stone ground with the claws leaving faint marks, but he only did so to not rest the wound on his feet. He was hurt, it still phased him in a way.
[08:06:33] Crow (melchior.wardell) studies the tarn in silence, watching the small adjustments of its feet and the way it keeps the wounded side from resting. The bird is clearly hurting, but it remains calm. That matters more than the blood. He slowly lowers his extended hand, keeping it within sight rather than forcing the contact. “You’re hurting.” His eyes move over the wound again, assessing without touching. “And you’re trying very hard not to show it.” He glances toward the silent Scribe’s Hall, then back to the Tarn. Nothing stirs within. Whatever the tarn had been hunting was either gone or was very good at remaining still. “You brought me here because you need help with that wound.” he paused”And because you want me to look for whatever is hiding inside.” He takes one careful step closer, stopping well short of the bird. “Two problems. One solution.” His gaze remains fixed on the tarn. “Let me see the wound first. Then I’ll see what your quarry has left behind.” His voice was calm and his demeanor showed no fear, but simple understanding of what the animal could do. There was a natural kind of authority to him. One that had been taught from an early age. As a tarnsman he knew that his calmness was essential.
[08:11:49] Tweet (voraciousbirb) turned his head towards the broken door, as if watching it while the human got closer. He still showed no sign of threat but he did stand up again. Knowing how low he sat, the two legger would have to nearly crawl underneath him and if something dangerous was out there, the human would be in great danger since he’d have to come out from underneath and get up.
The wound on his belly bore deep claw marks of a larl, the tarn had ripped some feathers out to get to the wound that hurt him yet he couldnt heal himself, still, everything around it bothered him. Luckily, he had evaded alot of the attacks, so it was only one injury, but one was enough.
[08:15:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches as the tarn rises, immediately understanding the problem. Getting underneath the enormous bird would put him in a poor position, especially with whatever had wounded it potentially still somewhere inside the Hall. His eyes settle on the deep claw marks across the belly.”Larl.” The word is quiet, but certain. He studies the wound without reaching for it. The missing feathers tell him the animal has already tried to deal with the irritation itself. “You’ve done what you can. Pulling at the feathers may have made it worse.” His gaze shifts toward the broken doorway, then into the silent darkness beyond it. He doesn’t step underneath the tarn. Instead, he circles slightly, keeping both the bird and the entrance within his sight. “You’re right not to trust that doorway. Whatever hurt you may still be inside. And I’m not going to crawl beneath a wounded tarn just to find out. Come outside with me. Let me see the wound where I can actually reach it.” His tone remains calm, almost conversational. “Then we can decide whether your little hunt needs finishing.”
[08:19:30] Tweet (voraciousbirb) didnt quite understand what the human wanted, but when he stepped away, it irritated the bird to the point he’d call out, almost like he was complaining. One last gaze went through the broken door and he’d walk down the three steps. Unsure if the building was safe, his head turned back again to keep an eye on it.
The only reason the tarn had come here, was because he saw the trail of blood that led into the building, the blood inside was a give away for a potential attack too and considering he had met a kaiila that didnt seem to willy nilly attack people, a tiny sleen that could never do this much damage, this had to be the larl he fought against the day before.
[08:24:24] Crow (melchior.wardell) watches the tarn descend the steps, and the complaining call earns the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Yes. I heard you.” He follows at a measured pace, keeping himself to the side rather than directly in front of the tarn. His eyes move from the blood trail inside the Scribe’s Hall to the wound on its belly. “The blood brought you here.” He studies the marks on the stone and the torn feathers. “I think I met your ‘friend’ earlier.” he states as he glances back to where the tarn wanted to go. “I bet you on all your and my feathers it is a sleep. But let us not detain. We do not know how long it sleeps after it has toyed with womens dresses.” He now closed the distance as he moved with confidence. “You have shown me the wound. Now let me work without having to put my head underneath you.” His tone remains calm, almost dry. “After that, I’ll follow your trail inside.”
[08:30:27] Tweet (voraciousbirb) didnt take his eyes off of the building and the items inside. He was looking for movement, anything that may give away his enemy within the stone walls. The tarn remained unmoving, merely the faint breeze brushing through his feather coat. As the human moved, his head snapped forward briefly, watching him come closer and scanned the area for any other who may walk up, but no one was there. He turned his head again to observe the hall. Hunger caught him suddenly and the bird spread his wings, gazing back to the human again to nudge against the rim of his shield, as if telling him he would be back again before flying off.
