Treated in Kind IC

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Ace5762
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Treated in Kind IC

#1 Post by Ace5762 »

"Ay, mate- could you step here a moment?" Conroy requested of a passing carouser, who looked at him dazedly. He tried to pass a slurred comment as he was pushed aside, but found himself tumbling into a female cat keidran who had been following Conroy, under the influence of subtleflower being burned. They tumbled over in a drunken heap, Conroy laughing raucously over his shoulder as he made his way through the throng of men, keidran and the occasional basitin, finding a mug of ale and an over-generous shower of ribbons over him before he was through it. Fire works emblazoned the sky with the thunder of booms and crackles and the brightly coloured shimmers as the first night of the Festival of Beasts got into full swing.
A full host of bards were rousing the crowd in loud and merry folk songs of both the species, and a great circle of festival-goers were forming around them, dancing without a care to the world as the twanging of the bouzouki joined raggedly with the high tones of the violin. Conroy grinned and downed half the mug's worth in his hand before pushing the rest into the hands of the next person to pass, pushing his way into the circle of dancers and finding the hand of a female wolf, who smirked in response to his sudden arrival as they weaved and twirled with the rest. He managed a good half minute before he slipped, rolling over on the cobblestones and laughing in high spirits again.
The lady keidran stood over him with her hand outstretched
"Humans, so clumsy with your feet!" she said, giggling with him as she helped him up "Come, let's go again!"
Conroy chuckled and shook his head
"Oh, would that I could, Missy, but I've business as to be attended" he said, passing her off to another keidran eager to join in.
"You be having a fine night, now!" he called as he slipped back into the crowd.

It was a short while later that Conroy pushed his way through into the Sailor's Reprieve inn. There were revelers in here too, as there was everywhere, but things were slightly more subdued inside. He leaned over the bar counter and flashed the owner a smile, receiving a businesslike nod in response.
"Ay up- any rooms left?" he asked.
"As it happens- are you Conroy Williamson?"
"Why, who's asking?"
"A man named Edward made a reservation for you, you've got the parlour overlooking the harbour upstairs"
"Ah, that's braw news, it is"
"And he said you might be looking for hired hands- I've seen to spreading your name about; only to the right people, of course" the innkeeper said, with a knowing arch of his brow.
"Champion! Well I'll be dirtying your door for a bit- can you spare a pint for a wearied trav'ler?"
Not too shabby.
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Stryder221
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#2 Post by Stryder221 »

"As much as I enjoy the company, I'll have to ask you to stop trying to touch my ears. They're sensitive." Bastion said to a Fox-girl, who was trying as hard as she could to poke at his ears.
She would not be discouraged, however. "But they're so fluffy! C'mon, it's a festival, lighten up!"

"Look, I understand you're not thinking straight with this scent in the air, but I really need to go."
"Oh, fine! Be that way..." The fox sulked a little before setting her sights on other, more interesting targets.

The Basitin breathed a sigh of relief. "{Finally... That girl was just getting annoying... Now to get indoors, the scent's getting to me.}"
Several people had sent wary glances towards him as he searched for an inn, probably due to the fact he carried a pretty vicious-looking halberd with him.

Bastion didn't mind, it kept most of the crowd out of his path as he pushed through, entering an inn that he saw was called "Sailor's Reprieve".
Once inside, he couldn't help but overhear bits and pieces of conversation, to which he had his large ears to blame. Most of it was meaningless gossip to him, save for the conversation with the bartender and a dark-haired human.

The fact one of them (he didn't know which) was looking for hired hands got his attention rather quickly, causing him to take a seat next to the dark-haired man just as he asked for a pint.
"I'll have one too, if you don't mind, please."

While waiting for the inevitable response, the Basitin began forming his plans on how best to approach the subject of employment. His coin pouch was getting light, almost empty, in fact.
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Ketzal
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#3 Post by Ketzal »

Damn crowds. I hate these festivals...

Bael shouldered past yet another cloudy-eyed citizen, the alcohol in his system likely making him as loose as the Keidran here. It was times like these that reminded him of why he never liked cities: sights, smells, and sounds of thousands of people, all cramped into one area of land. Granted, many would argue the merits for a city, but Bael never cared about any of the pros. He just got tired of people, period, and given the choice he could probably do without them in general.

He dodged a wolf that was practically barreling down the street in a giddy haze and rolled his eyes. At the same time, being alone didn't pay for food and shelter. He wasn't a stranger to foraging and camping out, especially with how much traveling he did, but he also knew when it was simply better to buy food from a vendor and stay at a local tavern, like when the cold set in for the wintry season. Thankfully his past ventures and current abilites left him with more than enough skill with a knife and bow to come in handy for anyone willing to part with enough coin.

It was for this very reason that he was dealing with the idiotic antics around him. He'd caught wind earlier in the day that someone was looking to hire a crew for a certain job. He hadn't heard any of the details, but with the tension between the races still bubbling under the surface, he couldn't imagine them not needing at least one hired blade.

Soon, Bael found himself at the Sailor's Reprieve. This ought to be the place...Hoped they haven't already hired all they need yet. He ducked through into the entrance, coming into a busy-looking bar area with the low hum of conversation from various festival-goers. The crowd still annoyed him, but at least it wasn't the insanity that was outside. He scanned the place for a minute, quickly noticing the Basitin with a large weapon at his side.

Well, hello there. He must be looking for the same guy as me... Unfortunately Bael didn't actually know who to talk to. He had been begrudgingly planning on asking around to find the potential client, but he could bet money that whoever this Basitin was was looking for the same person as he was. He doubted the weapon was some sort of party favor.

He decided the best way to find out for sure would be to hang back and watch. He took a place at the bar a few spots away from the Basitin, ordering a pint of whatever their regular ale was and looking as nonchalant as possible. An amber-eyed man in a black cloak wasn't going to blend in well, but hopefully he could find out more about this job before making his own move.

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Chaosye
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#4 Post by Chaosye »

The Festival of Beasts is an absolutely wonderful experience. Camaraderie of all the races of Mekkan took precedence over whatever minor conflicts had been plaguing their varied relationships. Issues of taxation, of borders, of fugitives were forgotten, if only for one night, to embrace one another and ease oneself. Dazzling and vibrantly colored fireworks lit up the sky in the fluorescence of merriment, and upon the earth the scents of subtleflower filled the streets, flowing through the gentle breezes of the wind and the breaths of the passionate. A festival that, to be sure, caters to one's primal senses, with bone-rattling booms and copius amounts of spirits.

Had it been under better circumstance, Naira would have enjoyed it.

But, as anyone's senses go, the more fun a person is having, the less they'll pay attention to anything that seems amiss. Drunkenness and the sensual effects of subtleflower certainly aided this lack of cognition, and there were those who take great advantage of it. After all, when's a better time to show absolute hate and disrespect for a fellow than when they're too drunk to notice?

On the harbor, Naira's 3-foot square crate shifted, and was lifted onto a small cart, and there was the jingling of glass bottles next to her. She heard speech, but it was obscured by the blast of a nearby firework. Even if she could hear; she wouldn't have wanted to. It's always the same thing. She shifted her weight. The walls of the cart were tall, and her crate was heavy. Nothing changed.

The cart was pulled through the city. Cheers, whistles, and every other cry of revelry was heard, by both Keidran and Human alike. How they could revel, while this unholy trade went on right under their aroused noses. She'd weep, but the gag in her mouth was so tight that if she tried, she'd probably drown in her own mucus.

Actually...

The thought was dismissed. She's not desperate for a slow passing. It wouldn't even be possible, with how little she's had to drink. The cart stopped. Doors opened nearby and the sound of glasses clinking together followed by laughter became the most frequent occurrence. Somebody lifted the crates next to her, their jingling contents heard and various inarticulate one-liners were mentioned. Only two crates were left on the cart, and she rolled on.

Her crate was incredibly, terribly crammed. It wasn't uncommon for them to try and fit a second Keidran in. Even with just one, though, the stench was appalling. Naira assumed she had been in the crate for at least a day, but the lack of light made it impossible to tell, and impossibly unbearable. The cart stopped again; it was close to the prior stop, but much more quiet. Her crate began to slide. And then it fell.

This was definitely an accident, for Naira had hardly shifted, and the man cursed. The crack of wood was loud, but it held its shape. The drop certainly dazed Naira, and added to her many bruises from the travel, but she saw something. Just barely, she beheld opening in the edge of the crate. The man tied a rope around the crate, and began to drag it along the floor. Was this going to be it? No. He's going to just nail it back down as soon as he's finished dragging her along. It's happened before, and it will happen again.

Except that it didn't. Peering through the small crack in the crate, she could see the man leave the stone-walled room and she heard another crash. Coupled with this one, there was jingling; merchandise had fallen out. To these men, a wasted product was worse than any sin. This was it. This was her chance, and she had to do something immediately. If they catch her, what's the worst they could do? There is nothing more painful than what she's been experiencing for the past three years; even death would be a boon. Shifting her position around in the crate, he pushed her back up against the top of the crate and pushed. She was weak, to be sure, but with the adrenaline flowing from the possibility of escape from a living hell? Not even a god could stop her.

Wood cracked, splintered, and fractured open. By the Masks! It was loud, but the booming fireworks and bustle of the street must have been louder. She leapt out of the crate, scrambling, and fell onto the floor. Her mouth was still gagged and her hands were still bound with cloth. She scanned the room, a cellar. Grimy walls and a worn, wooden table were all, and a set of stairs upward. Only one way to go, and that was up.

She had to pause for a moment as she scrambled to stand up. She had been immobile for so long that had she just sprinted out, she would've cramped up immediately and fell over. A few kicks and movements gave her some moments to think. Where would she run? The whole city, the whole region was complete unfamiliar to her. A firework crackled. She needs to get away from here, first. Somewhere with plenty of people, crowded. Somewhere they wouldn't be able to catch her without drawing incredible suspicion to themselves.

"Clink!" went the bottles.

Running up the stairs, thank god he wasn't standing there, she paused before the entrance and peered outside. There was the man. Hunched over, gathering up... Were those manacles?

The man became sprawled on the ground, and soon he was unconscious. And then Naira's right foot was soaked in blood.

Naira was standing in an alleyway, her foot pounding with pain and covered in gray matter. Her mind began to clear of its red cloud, and she was terrified. She had to get out. She had to free herself. Looking at the man's flat body, she saw a knife on his belt, and bent down to grab it. Running, she cut her restraints as well herself in her bewildered state, and pulled the gag out of her mouth.

Upon reaching the main street, she hid the knife behind her back. She almost immediately became surrounded by revelers. The boom of fireworks were deafened by her rattled psyche, as were the cheers and scents surrounding her. Humans and Keidran looked at her with a smile on their face, but her expression made them turn around. Backing up against the walls, she stepped into a deep puddle, tripping backwards, and fell through a pair of doors into her destination.

It's not uncommon to see people fall over in a tavern. It occurs for various reasons, and many are provided by such an environment. As such, Naira's dramatic entrance did not seem to avert too many gazes towards her; at least as far as she could tell. She was still shaking, and it was likely there was some blood still on her; she couldn't sit in that crowd for long. I can't stay here. I can't! They'll know! Why am I here? She quickly stood up and began to walk towards where she thought the rooms were. She tried the handle of every door she walked by until one was unlocked, and immediately walked in, the view of a harbour before her. The room was empty, as far as she could tell. A firework shot off in front of the room.

Naira shut the door behind her, but neglected to lock it. She was out. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and she was growing tired. Deathly tired. She was horribly thirsty, unbearably hungry, but more than anything...

She slumped, and thumped onto the floor. The breaths she took were intoxicating; even as stuffy fragrances breezed about, the air was, if anything, reassuring. Reassuring that she wouldn't be living in muck for weeks on end, reassuring that she be forced into spaces that could hardly hold a child for days on end. After three unendurable years, she was out.

Naira had escaped.

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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#5 Post by Phantom »

The narrow confines of the room, although rather tight suited him just fine. He considered himself lucky that he was able to find one for not too high a price. He walked over to the window and sat down on the ledge, looking out down on the crowded streets bellow. Fabien never understood why Keidran would be celebrating such an occasion, and especially not with humans. Rubbing his swore wrists, he turns his head towards the door as someone on the outside attempts to open it, luckily for him he had thought of locking it.

Jumping to his feet, and rushing for his sack, he grabs a flimsy looking knife, well more like a letter opener. As he approached the door, he heard the footsteps head down the hall and a door close. Opening his door ever so slightly enough for him to peer down the hallway to see if there was anyone, he pokes his head out the door, looking down both ways of an empty corridor. Strange....... he thought, I could have sworn..... meh.... and at that moment his stomach gave out a small grumble. He hadn't eaten since a while, not since the start of his journey.....

Putting away his letter opener and grabbing the book and letter he has with him, Fabien heads down into the bar area and finds a comfortable seat at one of the free tables and watches the others around the room. Before sitting down, he walks over to the bar and attempts to order something to eat. His first attempt was somewhat a failure, "<Ehm... Sorry but would it be possible to have something to eat?>" he tried, only to be stared at blankly by the barmaid. Seeing as he had made no impressions at all"[Would it be possible to get something to eat?]" he manages to say, thou with a bit a pain and heavily accented. After a quick confirmation, he heads back to the table and settles down, checking the letter, while trying to find something in his book.

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Ace5762
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#6 Post by Ace5762 »

"Right you are, Sir" replied the innkeeper to Basitin, pulling one of the barmaids over to bring ale for the both of them, clunking the heavy tankards down on the bar, froth spilling lightly over their rims. Conroy palmed a few coins into the innkeeper's hand, unwittingly paying for both of them.
Conroy took a swig and gave a satisfied sigh before lifting his mug in a toast, turning to face the room.
"To peace, m'dears!" he cried brazenly.
"Let be the days of man and keidran, long and fruitful!"
"To peace!" called back many of the inn's patrons merrily, some joining the toast more hesitantly, accompanied by the sounds of clinking cups. Conroy grinned and downed more of his pint, wiping some away from his chin with his sleeve. He turned to the Basitin beside him and raised his tankard to him in a gesture of companionship.
He was about to speak, but his head turned as the doors fell open and a female wolf keidran tumbled in.
"Firs' mistake! Overdoing it on the first night, you see" he said, nudging the Basitin's shoulder and laughing softly as the wolf pushed her way unsteadily upstairs to the rooms. He turned back to the Basitin and gave him a wide smile.
"Finding all the festivities to your satisfaction, mate? They've sure as tendered mine" he chuckled warmly.
"Hell of a thing to be lugging about, though"he said, his eyebrow raised as he peered past Bastion's shoulder at the impressive pole arm holstered there.


"Oh, food! Well, there's fresh rabbit stew simmering in the back, if that suits" the barmaid said, who'd been primarily dishing out alcohol all evening. She disappeared into the kitchen for a brief moment, returning with a steaming bowl of soup for Fabien.


The innkeeper stopped opposite the newly arrived fox keidran and gave him a searching look.
"They ARE burning subtleflower out there again, aren't they?" he said, pointing toward the outside meaningfully, unaware the fox would probably be unable to follow what he was saying.
"Blasted stuff. The Watch were supposed to keep it under moderation this year. Probably all too busy getting drunk themselves, I reckon"
He sighed frustratedly and shook his head "Anyway, a stiff drink'll set you back on your feet. Plenty of keidran stuff in tonight, they're behind the bar here-" he said, motioning his head to some full bottles bearing keidran writing on the shelves behind him.
"Pick something you want and I'll come back in a minute" he said.
Not too shabby.
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Stryder221
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#7 Post by Stryder221 »

"To peace..."
Bastion toasted as well, though not as eagerly as some folks around him, and took a hearty swig of his ale.
Privately, he thought it was a damn miracle the two races hadn't started killing each other, with rumours of slavery floating around here and there.

"I haven't had much chance to enjoy anything, really. The instant I arrived, I got mobbed by overexcited Keidran, something like that fox-girl over there. Might be the same one, too."
The fox in question had apparently tackled someone to the ground.

"You'd think someone would get the hint about that scent in the air, right? But no, of course not."

The Basitin was in the process of taking another drink when he heard the inevitable remark about his halberd.
"I don't mind, really. One can never be too careful, and It keeps most of the crowd away."

Bastion decided that now would be the perfect time to mention what he'd overheard.
"{How to say this...} I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with the innkeeper earlier, about the need of hired hands. My coin pouch holds barely enough to pay for the drinks here. So..."

He paused for a second, still trying to determine the best way to say what was on his mind.
"I'd like to offer my services. I, like most of my people, am trained for combat, this piece of fine craftsmanship I carry around isn't mere decoration, I'll have you know. Any task you require of me I will undertake without question."
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#8 Post by Ketzal »

Despite the calm of the tavern initially, it was already becoming active enough to grate on Bael's nerves again. Two Keidrans barreling in so quickly they fell on their furry behinds - one of them seemed dazed in a different way than most of the Keidran. Something seemed off about her, but he turned away before putting any more thought into it. Not his problem. And now a fox was occupying the space between him and the Basitin with his head on the bar. He heard the cheer go around to peace and long fruit or something like that. Bael wasn't really paying attention, barely raising his mug in recognition. Peace...Good luck on that one.

He took another sip, finally hearing the Basitin pipe up and talk to the man next to him. He figured the man was the client, but he wanted to hear if the job would be requiring people who knew how to use a weapon. He didn't mind if the Basitin ended up getting hired: he looked more like the type that would challenge an opponent from the front, whereas Bael liked to do so from behind or with an arrow to the throat. He was sure the man could use both if he needed any hired blades.

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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#9 Post by Phantom »

With his hot meal arriving, Fabien put the book and letter away, and prepares to eat when one of the humans at the bar offers a toast to peace. Not wanting to be the sour puss, Fabian raises his glass as well, although remains quiet, offering only a simple nod of acknowledgement before digging in to his meal. The sight of several Keidrans stumbling in did not surprise him. This incense smoke that was burnt during the festival made him feel awkward, light headed and relaxed, and thus he had decided to try and remain inside the Inn, where its effects where diminished down to a small headache.

As he ate he examined the other occupants in the room, especially the Basitin with the Halberd and the human he was now conversing with. He listened to the conversation as best he could without looking too awkward. He heard something about a job and needing hands.
Hmmm..... could be a chance to earn some coin.... he thought as he felt for his near empty coin purse.

As he finished off the last of the stew, and hatched a small plan on how to approach the man, but he tried to get more details first.

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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#10 Post by Ace5762 »

Conroy listened to the Basitin while he had his ale up to his mouth, making a faint nod and noises of agreement.
"Mm, mm- I wagered you were the sort of fella" he said while letting the mug sit on the table again and making a cursory glance over his shoulder. A few of the harbour hands, human and keidran had stumbled in with a ruckus and the rounded melody of a shanty being sung between them, but he didn't notice any guardsman about.
"See, I'm a trader, of a sort. Only, the kin' of trading I do don't sit well with the border guard. You follow?" he said lowly, smirking to the basitin.

"So happens there's a shipment I plan to leave wi' soon. 's a big haul I heard, so I'm needing hands to handle the goods, and a few sellswords like yerself to see away bandits on the road" said Conroy, touching his fingers lightly to the bar and leaning in a bit as his explained. The man's breath was a bit pungent from the alcohol that night.

"Big stack of the king's coin's the payment, you get payed a split 'fore and after if you're in" he concluded, leaning back again.

"Your name, by the way? I'm Conroy Williamson"


"Maria, I want you to take a bottle of the Firelily whiskey up to the parlour. Courtesy of the inn, you see" said the innkeeper, sending of one of the barmaids who replied with a dutiful 'Right away, Sir'. The maid waded her way through the patrons with a white, square bottle and a stack of small glasses and ascended to the upstairs.
"Head a bit clearer now, young Sir?" came the voice of the innkeeper, addressing Kaled as he came back around "What'll you be having?"


------------------------------------------------------------------------------
((Chaosye, you're up if you want to do some stuff with Naira, but you can just leave her unconscious when they find her if not))
Not too shabby.
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Stryder221
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#11 Post by Stryder221 »

"What sort of goods do you- Nevermind, I don't think I want to know... Best we change the subject, else my potential employer find himself a jail cell. Don't want any little birdies flying off to the guard, I'm sure."
Bastion was uncomfortably aware of the fact that anyone could be listening in on this conversation. Thus, when on the subject of possibly illegal goods, he spoke quietly.

"Cargo and bandits I can handle. I accept the offer, my blade is under your command."
The basitin glanced over his shoulder for a second, trying to determine who might've heard the conversation, before turning back to Conroy.
"Name? It's Bastion. Just Bastion. Pleasure to meet you, Conroy."
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Chaosye
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#12 Post by Chaosye »

But why rest on the floor? She slowly climbed up a padded chair next to her and rested. Really rested.

This was the comfiest chair she had sit on in her entire life. By no means was this an impressive chair; cheap, stained wood, and a simply quilted pad on top comprised the entirety of its composition. At the same time, there was no greater resting spot, a cathedra of pleasure...

Reality was breaking through her young ecstasy, and she weakly opened her eyes. It had barely been a few minutes, and she had already been thrown through nearly the most chaos and confusion in her entire life. It was going to be hard to relax for long without her mind straying. She felt scattered, like a spilt bag of a grain. Naira could almost call herself-

"<Scatterbrained...>"

Oh god.

She could feel vomit piling up inside of her. Acidic and corrosive, with just a touch of trauma. Naira tried to block it. Now was not the time! He- it was nothing more than a disgusting excuse for a person. Nothing more. H-it had to be to transport her crate. It must have known. Just another filthy broker of people.

Naira's mind cleared for a few seconds, and immediate danger was her priority again. She had just broken into somebody's room! If somebody found her, that could, at the very least, bode poorly. What if the people holding up in this room were the slavers-Aagh! "No!"

That outburst made her pause. Wait. There's something more. Slavers. Sla-vers. S-l-a-v-e-r-s.

There were horrible sounds she heard on the ship. The groan and whine of an old wooden vessel is one thing to keep one awake, but the groans and whines of fellow beings and their animal cries were not something she was going to ever forget. The sobbing of the newly indentured, the blank acceptance of the tired and used, the mad, feral cries of those who had lost their soul to the savagery of modern humans.

Naira was certain that the ship she was transported on had pulled into port only a few hours ago. Naira was also certain that she was not the only servant on that ship. Naira was especially certain that the ones in charge of their handling - their brutal, uncaring, devilish handling - were on that ship. She was not going to abandon her partners in misfortune.

Her anger began to repossess its hold. Of course, she wasn't going to go and strike that ship mad and alone. She had the chance to escape, and she wasn't about to completely waste it. She had an asset; rowdy, drunk, enterprising and audacious people, right under her feet. Of course, she had to approach it in the right way. Just walking out of the tavern screaming grievances would only make her look mad. Town guard were going to be difficult to gather in a mad festival. She looked out the view to the harbor. The streets were incredibly crowded. No, no guard were going to get involved. Those men did not deserve a fair trial.

She examined the window. To the sides were blue, floral curtains. Naira ripped one of the curtains from its rungs above the glass and tore it into smaller pieces, wrapping it around her sliced arms. She was still bleeding, but as much as it pained her she had to wait. How long would that ship stay in harbor? The rest of the curtain she draped over herself, not unlike a cloak. She breathed in heavily. Her whole body ached in paint, her foot must have been sprained from- But! She was free. And she could not bear knowing that, had she left and ran away, would have abandoned dozens of other full lives for her own comfort.

The door opened easily, and she stepped into the hallway. It was surreal. It looked completely different only a minute ago, she swore the walls were so much... closer. She turned, watching the walls, and almost immediately met face-to-face with some human woman and jumped, nearly screaming.

The two stared at each other for a few moments in surprise. "M-Ma'am?" Naira looked at the woman, and more particularly what she was holding. The barmaid was just as surprised, probably from seeing someone leave a previously-thought-to-be empty room, but that white bottle she was holding, oh god was Naira thirsty! It certainly didn't look like any alcohol Naira had ever seen before, in fact, it was more akin to a vase of water. Water! Ah! Naira grabbed it, to the barmaid's surprise and exasperation, and she immediately popped the top off and suckled from the bottle.

Ah, crisp, cold water. Absolutely nothing could be as wonderful, as it assuaged Naira's dry, barren throat; the cascades of cooling elixir as refreshing as menthol ran down her arid maw. It awakened and rejuvenated her, it fueled her mind and gave her clarity of mind as clear as the water she just drank! Truly! A long drink after days of ravenous thirst creates an experience that is without comparison!

Of course, this is what Naira had hoped, nay, prayed she would experience. Instead her eyes bulged as the whiffs of ethanol reached her nose, but by that point it was far too late. She tried to gag. The molten spirit had already reached her core, and began to wreak flaming havoc. Naira threw the bottle onto the barmaid's platter, which she expertly managed to balance, as Naira began to whoop and cough wildly, her throat burning with hellfire. She sprinted down the hall, nearly falling down the stairs while wheezing in pain. She leapt at the counter as soon as she could see it, and grabbed a glass of something clear that didn't smell like fire from one of the patrons, hastily gulping it down. Naira breathed heavily, the patron in front of her obviously infuriated, as she quickly remembered what she was trying to do. She was desperate to try to make the best of a situation which had already made her look absolutely mad.

"I-I need," she tried to yell out, in her nervous and surreal state. She was really, really hoping she was articulate. She was just about to plan it out too! A few looked over, but her voice still incredibly hoarse,"I need help! I need-" The patron she had snatched the water from pushed her lightly, out of frustration, but in Naira's uneasy state she quickly fell down on the floor, face-first, and the curtain draped across her body fell off. Now, what previously could have been interpreted as a hilarious scene, viewed by what was now almost the entirety of the tavern, of some crazy, probably drunk, wolf dressed in a curtain falling down a set of stairs now turned far more... sobering.

Gashes of blood and splinters of wood were visible on her back, from previously trying to force a crate open from the inside, but far more noticeable were the large, pitch-black numbers and symbols, charred into her skin. A number of previously laughing bar patrons quickly silenced themselves or others, as Naira coughed heavily on the floor. "Somebody... I-I..." She tried to speak out, in between coughs and with the influence of an incredibly hazed mind. Oh god, I look insane... was her thought. Whether that was shared sentiment among the sea-weathered patrons, however...

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Stryder221
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#13 Post by Stryder221 »

"The drunk wolf again?" Bastion asked himself, seeing a female wolf keidran nearly tumbling downstairs.
It would've been an amusing sight, but the way she was wheezing made him uncertain.

"Is nobody going to escort her back to her room? A bit a rest might... might... Oh no..."
The basitin's expression turned far more serious as the wolf fell, exposing her injuries, and the brand on her back. He shot Conroy a dark look as he stood up.
Was this what he meant? The kind of trading that doesn't... Oh masks, no...

He rushed over to the wolf, kneeling down beside her, trying to assure her that she was now safe.
"I'd heard rumors, but I never... In the middle of the festival as well... Easy now, you're safe for the moment..."
The wounds and splinters themselves didn't seem to pose immediate danger, but they'd need to be taken care of at some point.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are any of you going to help? Someone get her some water, at least!"
Bastion said to the crowd irritably.
E͎͖̯̱̻͡r̲͇r͢҉͈͚ò͈̹̰̩̺͓̝̘̟̕r̨̡̺̥̲̰͕̭̬:̵͙̦̟̮̖̯̞́͢ ̴̛̞̙͙̠̲̝̟S̵͎̼̖̜̯͕̺͔̀i̶͉̟̝̻͕̺g̢̤͕n̴͈̩̝͓͖̹͕̟͢a͕̺̱͞ț̸̛͓u̢̥̣̣̰̪ͅr̨̠͙̯̣̣̘̠ḛ̡̨̟̗̥̰̱̻ͅ ̻̮̼̥͕̼͉͎u͏͔̳n͏͔͈̭̭͟a̮͕͖̲͕͙͔ͅv̺̦̼̥̭͙a͏҉̦̺̫̯i̝̙̳̜l̴̡̳̥͠a̢̘̬͈͢ͅb̶̶̦͉͙́ḷ̸̙̙̳̩̥́e͔̪̳̦̫͚̪̹ͅ.͖̠̗͔̖̞ͅ

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Ace5762
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#14 Post by Ace5762 »

"Bastion, hm? Well, t'is a pleasure-" began Conroy, before his attention drifted off to the wolf who snatched another bar goer's drink, to their vocalised displeasure. It took a few moments for the attention of the inn to gradually move to her, whispers being made as the marks on her were noticed, many now getting out of their seats. There were gasps as she collapsed, and quite a few of them now quickly sobered, rushing over, including Bastion and an imposing snow wolf.
The bar patrons were now roused in interest at the wolf keidran who had tumbled into the scene, and the murmuring of the bemused and slightly anxious crowd filled the room. Indeed, the celebratory attitude had drained from the room as it became apparent all was really not well with the girl.
"Man alive, she's in a hell of a state!"
"What's going on, who is she?"
"Blimey"
Conroy had left his mug on the bar and joined the crowd around the wolf, craning his neck to see over them with a concerned frown. He returned Bastion's dark glare with an affronted expression, not quite understanding what was going through the Basitin's mind at that point.

Some of the more collected people gathered procured some water for the girl and passed it out to Bastion to give her. The innkeeper too, had pushed his way through the crowd. The man's wife had also appeared, sensing the trouble and was looking on.
Seeing that the snow wolf meant to cast a spell to heal the poor girl, the innkeeper chipped in.
"See if you can stop the bleeding but don't go overboard- there's a cleric just a few doors away. We can bring her in and get this poor thing back on her feet and all together- and then get some food down her, she looks half-starved" he said to Bastion and the snow wolf.
"Abigail! You go and fetch Ms. Carpenter, quick as!" he called
"On my way, Dear!" replied the innkeeper's wife briskly as she pushed her way out.

"Oh 'eck. I know them marks" said Conroy, who'd slipped to the front of the throng of observers. His hand trailed down his mouth in expression of concern, biting his thumb.
"Bad, bad business afoot. Those there are slave brandin's" he said to them, pointing to the blackened marks imprinted on the wolf girl's hide.
"I reckon we got a scunner or two movin em tonight, must be" he continued.
"Slave runners? In our bloody port!" cried one of the harbourmen, with a melody of guttural noises of agreement from his fellows. Amongst the group around him, murmured talk took on a harsher tone, of violence bubbling.
Not too shabby.
Born unto Bureaucracy.

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Chaosye
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Re: Treated in Kind IC

#15 Post by Chaosye »

It was a better reaction than Naira could have hoped for, especially considering she had practically forgotten the brand she had carried across her back for years. Her burning coughs and gasp for air, however, had dulled any understanding she was able to perceive of the current situation, as well as pulling her focus from the pain emanating from the various wounds she had been suffering from. A number of fellows had begun to crowd around her, judging from her foot-level view, and there were a surprising amount of Keidran paws among the various human shoes. Was that a Basitin's foot? Naira had barely paid any attention to the festivities that had been occurring, apart from the fact that there were festivities of some sort happening around her. What sort of gathering is this?

The thoughts immediately lost clarity as a mug of water was thrust in front of Naira. She hastily snatched it and sat upright on her sore breech, guzzling it down as more of a crowd gathered around her. She was starting to get... Nervous. Very nervous. Naira had never seen any of the people in the crowd before in her life. Not only that, but Naira had never done well being the center of attention, and was almost considering just running for it as another cup of water was brought to her attention. Quickly downed, it drowned her scalded throat, as well as her thoughts of flight.

Well, maybe it brought into mind a different kind of flight instead. A hand was laid on her uninjured arm, and she jumped away in fright, which was only worsened when she saw the authoritative, tall figure that touched her pull out a mana crystal. Naira sat in pure terror as the man spoke, and after a few seconds she instinctively screeched out,"<No!>" Every time she had ever seen a mana crystal in the past few years was one that was about to used to cast a binding spell on her. And so soon after escape, oh god, oh god!

And now she realized just how incredibly loud she just was. As she looked beyond the silhouette of the man before her, however, she saw that it was just another Keidran who was trying to help, and began to hear what he was actually trying to do before she had madly screamed out. She already saw the gazes of a number of linguistically untalented humans turn towards the snow wolf. She had to rectify the situation urgently. "N-No, I, sir..." She said, trying desperately to speak Human. Years of slavery in service and labor had supplied her with a Human vocabulary that was hardly satisfactory for any normal conversation in the language; it had been cultivated only for the ability to respond to orders. And right now, she was having trouble responding to anything. "<I-I'm fine, I need... Need help to...>" Naira needed to say it right, she needed to execute this perfectly, else she'd just be wasting the one shot she had to save all her fellow sufferers! Worthless! Naira gripped her head. A man was dead for this chance!

Her thoughts were getting louder than the crowd that surrounded her. What was she doing waiting there? She needed to get the whole damn tavern moving before it was too late! Too late for what? Before those damn ships leave! Ships don't just come and go that quickly! They do when they're transporting the damn slaves you need to save!

Naira was growing frantic, and the growing anger of the crowd around her certainly was not helping. She desperately searched for some sort of mental anchor, and grabbed the closest thing next to her, who, after jumping away from the snow wolf, turned out to be the cloak of some Fox sitting nearby. Naira looked up at him, and hoarsely said, "<I need quiet... Please...>" at a weak volume that was nearly inaudible among the increasingly loud crowd.

(Psst, Fawkes, that's you!)

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