OOC: Jack feel free to summarize what you've done over the past two days.
IC:
The morning of the 22nd was no different than any of the other recent mornings. The sky was cloudless as the morning sun rose over Sabata’s harbor. A faint breeze blew in from the harbor bringing with it all the appropriate smells. It would not last long under the burning sun. Before long, the breeze would fail and the city would begin its slow bake.
The citizens of Sabata were used to the heat but the summer had been long and it was time for the chill that was never quite cool enough to arrive. They shielded themselves as best they could, the People of the Sand in their various colored robes, wide-brimmed hats of the locals and shaded rickshaws for the wealth. They would toil beneath the desert sun as long as necessary. There was coin to be gained.
In the warehouse district, though, there was a buzz of activity unlike most days. Trade was the lifeblood of Sabata. Indeed, if there was no market and no port, there would be no city. The warehouses served their masters dutifully, holding their merchant’s goods until needed. Inventory came and went. Porters came and went. The warehouses did not complain; they served.
It was here that Jack arrived. Short squat buildings sat beneath the some of the smaller domes. Wagons were being loaded by men in foreign uniforms. Shouts in strange languages rang through the air. It was extraordinary to the former slave.
The whole area hummed with excitement but the commotion centered around the largest warehouse beneath the largest dome of this area. Massive doors were open to the workers going about their business. Jack could see all manner of goods being organized for some massive transport. Off to the side, reviewing his books with an underling was Badar.
Convergence - (Samheen 22nd, MT, Open)
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Convergence - (Samheen 22nd, MT, Open)
Last edited by Guest on Sat Aug 20, 2005 6:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack had not been idle these last few days. He had spent much of Badar's coin on possibly the largest blade he had ever seen.
The Creation had been hanging over the wall in the smithy and Jack had not stopped thinking about it since he had first layed eyes on it. His dreams were occupied with shimmering images of the flashing blade and the vague mystery of the Mouth. He had taken it from the wall to test the weight whilst the smith looked on with a certain pride. Such a thing was rare in Terra Incognita Jack was told, it had been pawned by one of the merchant guards after a particularly bad day at the tables. Few had the skill to use it, favouring smaller quicker blades. Jack knew however that this blade was his, its camel hide sheath and dull braided hilt belied a blade that was of cold, polished Steel. Jack had spent most of his coin on it and would do the same again. That night he had slept - one arm curled around the scabbard.
Apart from his simple shopping list, Jack had spent much of his time in the Crying Dragon. Such a place was a hotbed of tales and Gossip and he had wiled away the hours trading stories, playing the Odd part on his pipes - such services had earned him a drink here and there and for a few hours cleaning dishes he had slept in a corner of the stable. He had not the finances to purchase his lodgings but he was more than used to sleeping under wagons with the sand flies.
When the smoke and crowds of the Dragon got too great he just walked a little way from the City and played with his sword. Playing was all you could really call it. He had not yet plucked up the courage to unsheathe it yet but he would spend a few hours a day swinging against the wind, letting his arms get used to the weight and balance of the sword which favoured the blade - he would never move this quickly, even with two hands. He had swung wood at people, but never an edge - he needed a tutor really. He did not much like his chances if he ever had to unsheathe the blade.
The chain whip was another danger to him. He had bruises and welts from where the links had caught his calfs and his shoulders. In swinging it around he hurt himself as often as the thing flew true. He would take a lot of practice before he could begin to use either of these as weapons. He just hoped they were not stolen from him before he learned to defend himself (figuring that in the mouth, a big sword might get you some respect, but also a lot of attention)
He liked Sabata. He was grateful for the opportunity to go to the Mouth. Travel was the luxury of the rich and to do so earning a little money would be a true gift. He would Leave Dejark in his dust.
Jack smiled, he could only imagine the opportunities that would await him in the labyrinthine City, though in truth he liked the feel of Sabata - he would return here. That was if Badar managed to secure him transportation.
Jack toyed with the cool metal on his wrist, the chain was heavy but he was happy with the strength of the links. It was not an obvious weapon but one he liked the feel of. He had tested the reach and weight of it this morning when he had picked it up. He would have to practice a little more before he would feel comfortable using it. Gods willing he would never need to. He smiled and walked over to Badar.
"Kal'essen Badar." Jack offered, he had not picked up much of the local language but he caught a few words. "How's business?"
The Creation had been hanging over the wall in the smithy and Jack had not stopped thinking about it since he had first layed eyes on it. His dreams were occupied with shimmering images of the flashing blade and the vague mystery of the Mouth. He had taken it from the wall to test the weight whilst the smith looked on with a certain pride. Such a thing was rare in Terra Incognita Jack was told, it had been pawned by one of the merchant guards after a particularly bad day at the tables. Few had the skill to use it, favouring smaller quicker blades. Jack knew however that this blade was his, its camel hide sheath and dull braided hilt belied a blade that was of cold, polished Steel. Jack had spent most of his coin on it and would do the same again. That night he had slept - one arm curled around the scabbard.
Apart from his simple shopping list, Jack had spent much of his time in the Crying Dragon. Such a place was a hotbed of tales and Gossip and he had wiled away the hours trading stories, playing the Odd part on his pipes - such services had earned him a drink here and there and for a few hours cleaning dishes he had slept in a corner of the stable. He had not the finances to purchase his lodgings but he was more than used to sleeping under wagons with the sand flies.
When the smoke and crowds of the Dragon got too great he just walked a little way from the City and played with his sword. Playing was all you could really call it. He had not yet plucked up the courage to unsheathe it yet but he would spend a few hours a day swinging against the wind, letting his arms get used to the weight and balance of the sword which favoured the blade - he would never move this quickly, even with two hands. He had swung wood at people, but never an edge - he needed a tutor really. He did not much like his chances if he ever had to unsheathe the blade.
The chain whip was another danger to him. He had bruises and welts from where the links had caught his calfs and his shoulders. In swinging it around he hurt himself as often as the thing flew true. He would take a lot of practice before he could begin to use either of these as weapons. He just hoped they were not stolen from him before he learned to defend himself (figuring that in the mouth, a big sword might get you some respect, but also a lot of attention)
He liked Sabata. He was grateful for the opportunity to go to the Mouth. Travel was the luxury of the rich and to do so earning a little money would be a true gift. He would Leave Dejark in his dust.
Jack smiled, he could only imagine the opportunities that would await him in the labyrinthine City, though in truth he liked the feel of Sabata - he would return here. That was if Badar managed to secure him transportation.
Jack toyed with the cool metal on his wrist, the chain was heavy but he was happy with the strength of the links. It was not an obvious weapon but one he liked the feel of. He had tested the reach and weight of it this morning when he had picked it up. He would have to practice a little more before he would feel comfortable using it. Gods willing he would never need to. He smiled and walked over to Badar.
"Kal'essen Badar." Jack offered, he had not picked up much of the local language but he caught a few words. "How's business?"
Last edited by Jack Farrell on Mon Aug 22, 2005 11:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Badar looked up at his visitor and smiled.
“Ah, Jack, how are you? You look rested. Picked up a little of the local flavor, eh? Though, I daresay, that blade seems a tad out of sorts for this little desert hole†said the salt merchant warmly. Badar was much more lucid than the night before. He spoke lightly, smiled a lot and was in general excited about everything.
At Jack’s approach, Badar’s underling departed leaving the two alone. Badar put his arm around Jack and began walking him around the side of the warehouse to a wide lane running between the buildings. Servants seemed to be rushing by with luggage of a sorts and Jack could make out another group of men on the far end of the road. They were well dressed and looked to be discussing something heatedly.
“I believe I owe you an introduction,†continued Badar with a wink. He seemed truly pleased to have Jack along.
“Rezon!†he hollered and waved his hand. One of the men in the distance looked up in recognition and returned the wave.
“Come, let us go meet the pilot as I promised. He’s a dashing chap, forsooth! I’ve told him you’d be joining their little trek East,†said Badar excitedly, revealing his much more Western roots. The pair continued walking to the rear of the warehouse and the pilot eventually broke from his circle of comrades and began walking toward Jack and Badar.
“Ah, Jack, how are you? You look rested. Picked up a little of the local flavor, eh? Though, I daresay, that blade seems a tad out of sorts for this little desert hole†said the salt merchant warmly. Badar was much more lucid than the night before. He spoke lightly, smiled a lot and was in general excited about everything.
At Jack’s approach, Badar’s underling departed leaving the two alone. Badar put his arm around Jack and began walking him around the side of the warehouse to a wide lane running between the buildings. Servants seemed to be rushing by with luggage of a sorts and Jack could make out another group of men on the far end of the road. They were well dressed and looked to be discussing something heatedly.
“I believe I owe you an introduction,†continued Badar with a wink. He seemed truly pleased to have Jack along.
“Rezon!†he hollered and waved his hand. One of the men in the distance looked up in recognition and returned the wave.
“Come, let us go meet the pilot as I promised. He’s a dashing chap, forsooth! I’ve told him you’d be joining their little trek East,†said Badar excitedly, revealing his much more Western roots. The pair continued walking to the rear of the warehouse and the pilot eventually broke from his circle of comrades and began walking toward Jack and Badar.
Last edited by Guest on Wed Aug 24, 2005 5:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack smiled at his comment about the blade. It was a big one, much larger than the scimitars that most of the locals wore, or the straight edges that the foreigners carried at the waist. Jack had seen great swords before, in Amun Rah, but nothing with the Falchion's distinctive wicked curve.
"She is a beautiful thing isn't she?" Jack grinned, he knew it would catch people's eyes. What he really needed was a tutor, but he was not about to advertise that he could barely use the thing slung to his back. Even hitched like that the tip of the blade swung aroung his knee. It was more a weapon of war he reflected - it was difficult to move around crowds. But regardless, he liked it.
Jack turned to the group and watched the pilot as he made his way over. Jack tried his best to be a good judge of character and so tried to note every detail of the individual. Jack smiled and extended one hand to greet the other.
"Morning." Jack was not entirely sure how to greet a pilot - having never met one before - nor flown.
"She is a beautiful thing isn't she?" Jack grinned, he knew it would catch people's eyes. What he really needed was a tutor, but he was not about to advertise that he could barely use the thing slung to his back. Even hitched like that the tip of the blade swung aroung his knee. It was more a weapon of war he reflected - it was difficult to move around crowds. But regardless, he liked it.
Jack turned to the group and watched the pilot as he made his way over. Jack tried his best to be a good judge of character and so tried to note every detail of the individual. Jack smiled and extended one hand to greet the other.
"Morning." Jack was not entirely sure how to greet a pilot - having never met one before - nor flown.
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Guest
OOC: My apologies for the delay. There’s been some planning going on.
IC:
The pilot, Rezon, returned the smile and clasped Jack’s hand heartily. Rezon was older than Jack, by about 10 years or so. His face was tanned and weather beaten, and his hairline was just beginning to recede. His eyes were buried beneath heavy brows, so blond they were white. Jack could imagine they were a light blue, like the sky. His grin was confident and toothy with just edge of arrogance at the corners.
“Badar, good morning,†he drawled. “Now this is a fine day for sailing.†His eyes went from the plump trader to the young man standing at his shoulder and he waited for an introduction.
“Good morning yourself, pilot Rezon,†replied Badar. “This,†he said waving his hand in Jack’s direction, “is Jack, the representative my letter indicated.â€
“I thought as much,†answered Rezon. The older man shot his friendly but piercing gaze to Badar’s partner.
“A pleasure,†he said and turned toward Badar. “Let’s walk and talk at the same time, my friend. It’s a very busy morning†The pilot put his arm casually around the merchant’s shoulder and began to walk him to the rear to the warehouse where a large, flat expanse of sand held crates upon crates of goods.
“I just talked to the other fellas and they’re nervous about not knowing where they’re goods are going, but not overly so. I’ve assured them that Eastern Sands knows what we’re doing. The powers that be,†he said, nodding westward, “are concerned about all kinds of things if the destination is known. Our coin is good, that should be all that matters.â€
“I mean,†he laughed, “It’s not like we’re transporting an army or anything!â€
“I know,†responded Badar in a carefree tone. “It has never bothered me. My salt is sold to whoever can pay,†and in a tone mocking Rezon’s jest, “it’s not like salt ever started a war.â€
“Good attitude, good attitude. I really like doing business out here,†Rezon continued agreeably. “Though, it is rather warm. Indeed, a bit too warm. Not enough breeze like you have up there, for sure.â€
Rezon turned toward Jack as they rounded the corner. Their eyes met and with the skill of a father showing his son a new toy, Rezon drew Jack’s eyes toward the horizon. Just above the highest visible sand dune, only a few leagues away, Jack could make out what appeared to be the vague shape of hull, with several odd round shapes, cresting the horizon.
“Here she comes son. The Scillus . She’ll fly us straight through this desert faster than you could climb the Grecus,†boasted the pilot, referring to one of the massive watch towers straddling the river for which the airship was named.
A voice shouted Badar’s name from the distance and the merchant turned.
“If you’ll excuse me,†he said politely, bowing his domed head. “I have some business to attend. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.â€
IC:
The pilot, Rezon, returned the smile and clasped Jack’s hand heartily. Rezon was older than Jack, by about 10 years or so. His face was tanned and weather beaten, and his hairline was just beginning to recede. His eyes were buried beneath heavy brows, so blond they were white. Jack could imagine they were a light blue, like the sky. His grin was confident and toothy with just edge of arrogance at the corners.
“Badar, good morning,†he drawled. “Now this is a fine day for sailing.†His eyes went from the plump trader to the young man standing at his shoulder and he waited for an introduction.
“Good morning yourself, pilot Rezon,†replied Badar. “This,†he said waving his hand in Jack’s direction, “is Jack, the representative my letter indicated.â€
“I thought as much,†answered Rezon. The older man shot his friendly but piercing gaze to Badar’s partner.
“A pleasure,†he said and turned toward Badar. “Let’s walk and talk at the same time, my friend. It’s a very busy morning†The pilot put his arm casually around the merchant’s shoulder and began to walk him to the rear to the warehouse where a large, flat expanse of sand held crates upon crates of goods.
“I just talked to the other fellas and they’re nervous about not knowing where they’re goods are going, but not overly so. I’ve assured them that Eastern Sands knows what we’re doing. The powers that be,†he said, nodding westward, “are concerned about all kinds of things if the destination is known. Our coin is good, that should be all that matters.â€
“I mean,†he laughed, “It’s not like we’re transporting an army or anything!â€
“I know,†responded Badar in a carefree tone. “It has never bothered me. My salt is sold to whoever can pay,†and in a tone mocking Rezon’s jest, “it’s not like salt ever started a war.â€
“Good attitude, good attitude. I really like doing business out here,†Rezon continued agreeably. “Though, it is rather warm. Indeed, a bit too warm. Not enough breeze like you have up there, for sure.â€
Rezon turned toward Jack as they rounded the corner. Their eyes met and with the skill of a father showing his son a new toy, Rezon drew Jack’s eyes toward the horizon. Just above the highest visible sand dune, only a few leagues away, Jack could make out what appeared to be the vague shape of hull, with several odd round shapes, cresting the horizon.
“Here she comes son. The Scillus . She’ll fly us straight through this desert faster than you could climb the Grecus,†boasted the pilot, referring to one of the massive watch towers straddling the river for which the airship was named.
A voice shouted Badar’s name from the distance and the merchant turned.
“If you’ll excuse me,†he said politely, bowing his domed head. “I have some business to attend. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.â€
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Jack Farrell
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Jack stared at the airship as it flew through the clear skies. He had only heard of them through tale himself and though he knew them to be a thing of craft rather than magic, there was still a certain mystique about them. Five years ago he would never have dreamed that he would ever one day fly on one of these things let alone be talking to the pilot. He wondered in his own mind how such a thing was fabricated - and how one rose to pilot such a complex craft. Then again your life was what you made of it. To forge as it were in your own path.
Jack did not believe in destiny. Life was what you made it and he wanted his to rise in glory.
The boy grinned wolfishly and turned to face Rezon. He was not sure what to make of the man but decided to engage in a little small talk.
"That would be pretty fast." He laughed in accordance with the Pilot's boast. "Seriously though, and Airship most cover some distance - no need to stop I suppose overnight if you have someone to watch the controls... You must travel nearly as fast as a horse at canter with the wind behind you. Faster maybe.. no need to alter course, just fly as the crow does." Jack caught himself and appologised.
"Sorry my friend I lost myself. My name is Jack Farrell, it is a pleasure to make your aquiantence." He smiled and bowed a touch formally.
Jack did not believe in destiny. Life was what you made it and he wanted his to rise in glory.
The boy grinned wolfishly and turned to face Rezon. He was not sure what to make of the man but decided to engage in a little small talk.
"That would be pretty fast." He laughed in accordance with the Pilot's boast. "Seriously though, and Airship most cover some distance - no need to stop I suppose overnight if you have someone to watch the controls... You must travel nearly as fast as a horse at canter with the wind behind you. Faster maybe.. no need to alter course, just fly as the crow does." Jack caught himself and appologised.
"Sorry my friend I lost myself. My name is Jack Farrell, it is a pleasure to make your aquiantence." He smiled and bowed a touch formally.
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"Jack, nice to meet you. I, as Badar indicated, am Rezon. I'm the pilot," he explained.
"Down here, I don't mean much, mostly cargo coordination, but up there," he whistled, "up there, she's mine and no one else's."
As they approached, the grand airship landed like some magical insect, hovering unnaturally before descending into the middle of the wide expanse of ground. Men rushed out to meet it, securing mooring lines to stakes shoved deep into the sands.
"She does fly fast, or at least as fast she can. There isn't much up there that can stop her, dragons maybe, but I've never seen one." He brought them close to the hull away from the spinning blades and the great wings and fins. A second gangplank smaller, obviously for people only, was lowered toward the pair.
"Did Badar tell you much about the job, Jack? Essentially, I'm looking for a cabin boy . . .and Badar, of course, is looking for someone who can watch out for his interests on the journey. You up for some travel?"
"Down here, I don't mean much, mostly cargo coordination, but up there," he whistled, "up there, she's mine and no one else's."
As they approached, the grand airship landed like some magical insect, hovering unnaturally before descending into the middle of the wide expanse of ground. Men rushed out to meet it, securing mooring lines to stakes shoved deep into the sands.
"She does fly fast, or at least as fast she can. There isn't much up there that can stop her, dragons maybe, but I've never seen one." He brought them close to the hull away from the spinning blades and the great wings and fins. A second gangplank smaller, obviously for people only, was lowered toward the pair.
"Did Badar tell you much about the job, Jack? Essentially, I'm looking for a cabin boy . . .and Badar, of course, is looking for someone who can watch out for his interests on the journey. You up for some travel?"
Approaching the pair, the shaman stopped a respectful distance from them, for it would have been inexcusable to interrupt their conversation. Instead she waited for one of the men to acknowledge her where she stood, her bag slung over one of her shoulders that ended in a gloved arm and hand that held her runed glaive upright. She kept her right hand free, for she was accustomed to the ways of some guarrdi and how they would greet each other, and some required her to be prepared in this way.
She used her time wisely, inspecting both men. That they were guarrdi wetlanders was certain, but the tall man...he was tall, taller even that Amica herself, a very attractive quality in a man...had a golden tint to his skin and light, blue eyes...eyes the color of steel or the sky, a very becoming shade. He might have been a warrior for the weapon he carried, a weapon the shaman could not have even held much less use effectively, and he spoke with the Sky Captain with respect, another trait she found very becoming in a man. She knew at once that she would like this Jack.
Waiting patiently, she prepared her bow for the man that would acknowledge her first, for a bow was perhaps the most customary of greetings, while her black shaman's sari billowed and swayed in the breeze.
She used her time wisely, inspecting both men. That they were guarrdi wetlanders was certain, but the tall man...he was tall, taller even that Amica herself, a very attractive quality in a man...had a golden tint to his skin and light, blue eyes...eyes the color of steel or the sky, a very becoming shade. He might have been a warrior for the weapon he carried, a weapon the shaman could not have even held much less use effectively, and he spoke with the Sky Captain with respect, another trait she found very becoming in a man. She knew at once that she would like this Jack.
Waiting patiently, she prepared her bow for the man that would acknowledge her first, for a bow was perhaps the most customary of greetings, while her black shaman's sari billowed and swayed in the breeze.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack was intrigued by the airship. Like most men he had a natural curiosity towards technology and devices - the kind of instinct that led to the vandalism of music boxes in an effort to discover their workings. He kept his hands close to his body, the various propellers and fins looked delicate and he truly did not wish to interfere here.
"Dragons?" Jack asked as he gazed in awe at the ship. But then, this was Terra incognita - such beasts did still exist in the mountains if tales were believed. Personally jack doubted it, he was a man to believe what his own eyes would tell him - nothing more, the only dragon he had seen was long dead and lay atop a tavern.
His fingers found the chain on his wrist and he toyed with the links, tucking in the loose ends and running his fingers over one of the rough links.
Jack returned his gaze to Rezon and his eyes held vacant for a few moments as he tried to remember the path of the conversation.
"A Cabin boy?" He laughed to himself - more in delight than anything else. "Certainly my friend, it would prove far more interesting i am certain than spending my time in the hold like a bag of salt!"
Jack smiled and let his eyes run over the smooth lines of the hull. It was in doing this that he caught the figure behind him. His heart beat quickened as he recognised one of the people of the sand. His eyes were drawn instantly to the Glaive at her side and he remembered the red guards at the city gates. A hundred fears past his face, Dejark had found him, the guards had sent a friend to finish their work... someone at the dragon disliked his stories.
Brief seconds passed as Jack considered his options. He had had precious little interaction with the People of the Sand. Spending his time more with the travelers and foreigners like himself, but he had seen precious few instances of violence and this one wore black not the red of the warrior tribe. Secondly, the figure had not called him out and the weapon to their side was casually held. Thirdly, the curve of her hips, the frame of the body revealed her a woman. Though he knew from experience that this made her no less a threat, it still made him feel a little more at ease.
Jack exhaled and nodded his head towards her. "Good morning" he called, curious. He did not suppose that the woman was here to see him, but it would be impolite not to greet her.
"Dragons?" Jack asked as he gazed in awe at the ship. But then, this was Terra incognita - such beasts did still exist in the mountains if tales were believed. Personally jack doubted it, he was a man to believe what his own eyes would tell him - nothing more, the only dragon he had seen was long dead and lay atop a tavern.
His fingers found the chain on his wrist and he toyed with the links, tucking in the loose ends and running his fingers over one of the rough links.
Jack returned his gaze to Rezon and his eyes held vacant for a few moments as he tried to remember the path of the conversation.
"A Cabin boy?" He laughed to himself - more in delight than anything else. "Certainly my friend, it would prove far more interesting i am certain than spending my time in the hold like a bag of salt!"
Jack smiled and let his eyes run over the smooth lines of the hull. It was in doing this that he caught the figure behind him. His heart beat quickened as he recognised one of the people of the sand. His eyes were drawn instantly to the Glaive at her side and he remembered the red guards at the city gates. A hundred fears past his face, Dejark had found him, the guards had sent a friend to finish their work... someone at the dragon disliked his stories.
Brief seconds passed as Jack considered his options. He had had precious little interaction with the People of the Sand. Spending his time more with the travelers and foreigners like himself, but he had seen precious few instances of violence and this one wore black not the red of the warrior tribe. Secondly, the figure had not called him out and the weapon to their side was casually held. Thirdly, the curve of her hips, the frame of the body revealed her a woman. Though he knew from experience that this made her no less a threat, it still made him feel a little more at ease.
Jack exhaled and nodded his head towards her. "Good morning" he called, curious. He did not suppose that the woman was here to see him, but it would be impolite not to greet her.
"Kal'essen," she bowed, though her bow was little more than angling her face down and bobbing her form, her free hand held wide. Even as she responded to the subtle invitation to present herself, Amica knew some relief that she had not been attacked or challenged by the travelers around her. It had only been perhaps a week since she had destroyed the guarrdi prisons in City by the Great Water, destroyed it with the help of the Dragon of Water and giving the one they call Remassu to know great anger at her People. She had not seen a great many of her kind walking the streets of Sabata in these days...and those she had seen, such as De'sel, were preparing to flee before this Remassu's anger.
"I am called Amica Tempestatis, of tribus negrus, shaman of the People," she said, once more pondering how it was that the word her own kind used to refer to themselves meant only 'People' in the guarrdi tongue. It was sensible and reasonable...in their spoken history there was once a time when they were alone in the world...but it left for some confusion. Casting her curiosity aside, she shifted the sack upon her shoulder and smiled, for smiling came very easy for the shaman today, the memory of her past two nights fresh in her mind and upon her body.
"I would speak of this great guarrdi device, for I would barter to be upon it when you would depart Sabata, City by the Great Water. I have many coins to purchase such a thing, both for myself and my husband, but first I would know where this great machine will next go?" she asked, motioning towards the airship and falsely referring to T'Kil as her husband, a cute little joke that the poor man would be powerless to deny now that she had established the deception. Since he had accepted her to him a couple nights ago, she had become much taken to cute jokes, her foolish, youthful, girl's heart unable to remain sensible when she remembered his touch upon her.
The irony of her question was not lost upon the shaman, for Amica knew that if she heard the wrong answer for the airship's next destination, it could likely mean violence and possibly some deaths for those poor men that were aboard. Deaths that will come by my hand, realized Amica, finding no great love killing anything at all...especially those that deserve it not. Let us hope that fate has seen us through...and that the Captain is reasonable... after this thought she turned her eyes upon the other man, the Sky Captain, smiling at him as well and hopeful that if the worst should come to pass, he would at least be reasonable.
"I am called Amica Tempestatis, of tribus negrus, shaman of the People," she said, once more pondering how it was that the word her own kind used to refer to themselves meant only 'People' in the guarrdi tongue. It was sensible and reasonable...in their spoken history there was once a time when they were alone in the world...but it left for some confusion. Casting her curiosity aside, she shifted the sack upon her shoulder and smiled, for smiling came very easy for the shaman today, the memory of her past two nights fresh in her mind and upon her body.
"I would speak of this great guarrdi device, for I would barter to be upon it when you would depart Sabata, City by the Great Water. I have many coins to purchase such a thing, both for myself and my husband, but first I would know where this great machine will next go?" she asked, motioning towards the airship and falsely referring to T'Kil as her husband, a cute little joke that the poor man would be powerless to deny now that she had established the deception. Since he had accepted her to him a couple nights ago, she had become much taken to cute jokes, her foolish, youthful, girl's heart unable to remain sensible when she remembered his touch upon her.
The irony of her question was not lost upon the shaman, for Amica knew that if she heard the wrong answer for the airship's next destination, it could likely mean violence and possibly some deaths for those poor men that were aboard. Deaths that will come by my hand, realized Amica, finding no great love killing anything at all...especially those that deserve it not. Let us hope that fate has seen us through...and that the Captain is reasonable... after this thought she turned her eyes upon the other man, the Sky Captain, smiling at him as well and hopeful that if the worst should come to pass, he would at least be reasonable.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack smiled and felt himself relax as the woman, Amica, spoke. Though he still felt a little nervous, particularly as the lady refered to herself as a Shaman. Jack had precious little experience of magic and viewed those who practiced it with a certain awe and more than a little fear.
Jack listened tentativley to her words - he was much used to putting people at ease and even conducting informal negotiations so talk came freely to him.
"Well coin has been known to grease more than a few wheels M'Lady." He smiled at his own joke, inwardly cautious at the prospect of spending too much time with the People. Jack knew enough not tointerfere too greatly in this matter, The Scillus was Rezon's and he alone could conduct negotiations as to its course.
As he spoke, Jack took his time to study the Shaman that stood before him. She was shorter than he was but most women were in truth. Though her robe hid much of her figure, her features were striking, her eyes most of all. Most of the people he had seen were dark eyed, green was a rare colour to witness. He smiled to himself - perhaps this journey would not be too bad. Though, he reflected, he had not yet met her husband.
He pressed his lower lip between his teeth as he envisaged a giant beast of a man clad in blood Red and jealous as a harlot scorned. Maybe they could find another airship...
Jack listened tentativley to her words - he was much used to putting people at ease and even conducting informal negotiations so talk came freely to him.
"Well coin has been known to grease more than a few wheels M'Lady." He smiled at his own joke, inwardly cautious at the prospect of spending too much time with the People. Jack knew enough not tointerfere too greatly in this matter, The Scillus was Rezon's and he alone could conduct negotiations as to its course.
As he spoke, Jack took his time to study the Shaman that stood before him. She was shorter than he was but most women were in truth. Though her robe hid much of her figure, her features were striking, her eyes most of all. Most of the people he had seen were dark eyed, green was a rare colour to witness. He smiled to himself - perhaps this journey would not be too bad. Though, he reflected, he had not yet met her husband.
He pressed his lower lip between his teeth as he envisaged a giant beast of a man clad in blood Red and jealous as a harlot scorned. Maybe they could find another airship...
His words were sensible...coin did indeed make the workings of all guarrdi swift and simple...but she detected that this Jack did not regard her highly. His smile and his greetings were genuine, and his words were innocent, but he did not give to her his name, for it was likely he feared and mistrusted her. Just as I fear and mistrust the guarrdi. This is the Way of things, I think. In time they will come to cast away their fears, or they will come to realize them, she thought sadly, the knowledge of her deadly task filling her mind and giving her to know that it would most likely endanger both men before her.
Also, she had announced herself a shaman, a practice that was not perhaps wise in Sabata just now, but a careful decision Amica had made considering all things. If she had not announced as much, they would guess it to be true anyway...and suspicion, fear, and gossip would give them to fill in what truths she did not reveal herself. Instead she chose to embrace her affiliation and perhaps avoid such gossip by doing so, for in this way she might cause less suspicion.
"Are you he to whom I must speak to arrange such a thing?" she asked Jack, his eyes inspecting her person carefully. Amica was perhaps quite vain and always enjoyed the looks she might receive from men, often seeking to display herself for their greater amusements. Today was hardly different, and she found her weight shifted to one hip and her back straightening and perhaps bending back slightly so as to present her breasts more readily. Her head leaned slightly to one side, all movements designed to display herself to greatest affect where she could actually be seen, her sari was left open down the front of her body to reveal her at least to some degree. "As I have said, I should like to know where next Flying Ship would go, and what fees you might take from us that we might be upon her," she said, turning her gaze to include the other man in her questions though this was little more than an excuse to toss her hair lightly.
Also, she had announced herself a shaman, a practice that was not perhaps wise in Sabata just now, but a careful decision Amica had made considering all things. If she had not announced as much, they would guess it to be true anyway...and suspicion, fear, and gossip would give them to fill in what truths she did not reveal herself. Instead she chose to embrace her affiliation and perhaps avoid such gossip by doing so, for in this way she might cause less suspicion.
"Are you he to whom I must speak to arrange such a thing?" she asked Jack, his eyes inspecting her person carefully. Amica was perhaps quite vain and always enjoyed the looks she might receive from men, often seeking to display herself for their greater amusements. Today was hardly different, and she found her weight shifted to one hip and her back straightening and perhaps bending back slightly so as to present her breasts more readily. Her head leaned slightly to one side, all movements designed to display herself to greatest affect where she could actually be seen, her sari was left open down the front of her body to reveal her at least to some degree. "As I have said, I should like to know where next Flying Ship would go, and what fees you might take from us that we might be upon her," she said, turning her gaze to include the other man in her questions though this was little more than an excuse to toss her hair lightly.
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Jack Farrell
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Amica's actions did not go unnoticed. Whilst desperately holding his eyes on her face, Jack felt more than watched her movements. The tilt of the hips, the languid stretch that pulled the fabric of her garment tight across her chest. Jack felt his gaze flit down to scan her body - an instinctive reaction that he kicked himselt for.
Yet Jack was no fool... In his time spent in the bars and even as a slave in the company of women he had picked up on many of a woman's wiles. To one who sat at a table and watched, many things became apparent. From a young girl leaning just so to charm a man of just one more drink to the subtle hintings a woman gave to let her man know a night might be continued elsewhere.
He smiled.
Jack knew she was flirting intentionally and he surely felt her alure. She was an attractive girl of the same age as he, the fact that she was one of the People gave her a certain exotic nuance to the situation - in this it would be too easy to let the circumstances overwhelm but Jack fought such feelings down.
Being careful to keep his face friendly, Amica might have noticed a slight tightening to his eyes that belied a more hidden smile.
Are you just playing coy girl? What is it you really want? It seems strange that a shaman of all things should flirt so readily. Particularly a married one.
Jack let out a slight laugh at her comments. "No, no M'lady - It is he that you must speak to as regards the Scillus" Jack said jerking his head towards Rezon. "I am just one of the Crew."
Jack kept his smile, but as he held her stare he knew his thoughts drifted onto other things, the prospect of days spent on the Scillus with such a flirtatious girl. Why one of the people would want to use a Foreign craft at all was beyond him; they were a traditional people he had thought. But this one did seem a little different to him - it was certain she sparked many questions in his mind... The answers he felt would take some searching for.
Yet Jack was no fool... In his time spent in the bars and even as a slave in the company of women he had picked up on many of a woman's wiles. To one who sat at a table and watched, many things became apparent. From a young girl leaning just so to charm a man of just one more drink to the subtle hintings a woman gave to let her man know a night might be continued elsewhere.
He smiled.
Jack knew she was flirting intentionally and he surely felt her alure. She was an attractive girl of the same age as he, the fact that she was one of the People gave her a certain exotic nuance to the situation - in this it would be too easy to let the circumstances overwhelm but Jack fought such feelings down.
Being careful to keep his face friendly, Amica might have noticed a slight tightening to his eyes that belied a more hidden smile.
Are you just playing coy girl? What is it you really want? It seems strange that a shaman of all things should flirt so readily. Particularly a married one.
Jack let out a slight laugh at her comments. "No, no M'lady - It is he that you must speak to as regards the Scillus" Jack said jerking his head towards Rezon. "I am just one of the Crew."
Jack kept his smile, but as he held her stare he knew his thoughts drifted onto other things, the prospect of days spent on the Scillus with such a flirtatious girl. Why one of the people would want to use a Foreign craft at all was beyond him; they were a traditional people he had thought. But this one did seem a little different to him - it was certain she sparked many questions in his mind... The answers he felt would take some searching for.
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Guest
Rezon watched the exchange between the nomad and the former slave with a smirk. At least the boy had enough sense not to assume authority, he thought. He put a restraining hand on his charge's shoulder.
"This ship is mine, miss. Or, at least, she will be in the air. I have to say, though, that we're really not taking on passengers. We're headed eh -." Rezon stopped, realizing he would be saying too much and breaking his client's confidence.
"We're headed out of Sabata on the eve of tomorrow. There might be room, but I'm not sure there's room for two."
He looked at her quizzically.
"Just what kind of trouble are you in that you'd want to take a trip in a contraption like this, girl? Don't you think I have enough of my own problems?"
"This ship is mine, miss. Or, at least, she will be in the air. I have to say, though, that we're really not taking on passengers. We're headed eh -." Rezon stopped, realizing he would be saying too much and breaking his client's confidence.
"We're headed out of Sabata on the eve of tomorrow. There might be room, but I'm not sure there's room for two."
He looked at her quizzically.
"Just what kind of trouble are you in that you'd want to take a trip in a contraption like this, girl? Don't you think I have enough of my own problems?"
The Sky Captain had not offered her his name either, a situation that gave Amica some frustration. That they knew apprehension could hardly be a great surprise to her, and she would have to deceive them to give them to know some comfort with her and her master as well as to draw upon their sympathies to accept them without further question. While the shaman was not fond of deceit, it was far more ideal than force.
"Remassu will not suffer our kind among him any longer, so we must go from his city," responded Amica quickly, invoking the name of the man that was the source of so much frustration among her People. "And so we will go. But I cannot travel into the open desert in my condition," she added, letting her eyes fall and refusing to meet either man's gaze for a moment as her free hand moved to her belly, as if she might emphasize what condition she had.
As Amica knew the early signs of pregnancy well, it was the most convenient and ideal lie she could offer, hopefully giving them to know both compassion as well as amusement and hopefully sympathy at her awkward situation. She might happily sacrifice a strong measure of her pride to achieve her ends, and few were the men that might truly understand the particulars of being with child. It was depressingly common that women among the People lost children in their wombs, a fate that visited them with savage regularity and one with which she, as a healer and councilor, had seen often enough. It seemed perhaps unfair...the desperation she placed upon these men was such that they were left with no honorable choice but to help...but such a need as hers was not one that allowed for anything less.
"We can pay well, Captain of Skies," she offered, her face taking on a hopeful, almost pleading look. "And we will have nothing but the bags we carry upon our shoulders. And we will bring with us what food we must have, and we will be no burden to you," she said, adding tones of hope and desperation to her voice such that she might finalize her persuasion.
"Remassu will not suffer our kind among him any longer, so we must go from his city," responded Amica quickly, invoking the name of the man that was the source of so much frustration among her People. "And so we will go. But I cannot travel into the open desert in my condition," she added, letting her eyes fall and refusing to meet either man's gaze for a moment as her free hand moved to her belly, as if she might emphasize what condition she had.
As Amica knew the early signs of pregnancy well, it was the most convenient and ideal lie she could offer, hopefully giving them to know both compassion as well as amusement and hopefully sympathy at her awkward situation. She might happily sacrifice a strong measure of her pride to achieve her ends, and few were the men that might truly understand the particulars of being with child. It was depressingly common that women among the People lost children in their wombs, a fate that visited them with savage regularity and one with which she, as a healer and councilor, had seen often enough. It seemed perhaps unfair...the desperation she placed upon these men was such that they were left with no honorable choice but to help...but such a need as hers was not one that allowed for anything less.
"We can pay well, Captain of Skies," she offered, her face taking on a hopeful, almost pleading look. "And we will have nothing but the bags we carry upon our shoulders. And we will bring with us what food we must have, and we will be no burden to you," she said, adding tones of hope and desperation to her voice such that she might finalize her persuasion.
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Jack Farrell
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It was all that Jack could do not to blush. He felt some guilt at entertaining distinctly impure thoughts about a woman with child. Among the caravans it was so common for women to die in childbirth, as his own mother had, that every effort was made to accomodate for pregnant women. Slavers knew that they were useless for working and so any care given was the responsibility of the Slaves themselves.
Jack for one had his heart moved to pity.
Keeping his voice low, for Rezon's ears only, he spoke. "I have heard of this Ramassu. From what I can gather he is a statesmen of sorts for the city and it is possible she, or her tribe, have some quarrel with him. It is not my call but we only need to drop her off at the next stop. Unless you were heading straight for the Mouth that is."
Jack knew Rezon was in a difficult place. A Pregnant woman was a burden even in such an early stage as Amica what with the morning sickness and the mood swings. He hoped this would be a short journey.
Jack for one had his heart moved to pity.
Keeping his voice low, for Rezon's ears only, he spoke. "I have heard of this Ramassu. From what I can gather he is a statesmen of sorts for the city and it is possible she, or her tribe, have some quarrel with him. It is not my call but we only need to drop her off at the next stop. Unless you were heading straight for the Mouth that is."
Jack knew Rezon was in a difficult place. A Pregnant woman was a burden even in such an early stage as Amica what with the morning sickness and the mood swings. He hoped this would be a short journey.
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Guest
Rezon looked down at Jack with an annoyed expression on his face. The last thing he wanted on a trip like this was a smitten little boy. Pregnant! Indeed. That should definitely be reason enough not to take her. He didn't believe one word of the tribeswoman's reasons except perhaps that Ramessu was irritated with her.
"Listen, Jack. If Ramessu wants her and her kind gone, it's best you and I stay out of this. I know exactly who he is. He wields a lot of power in this city and, believe me, you and I do not want to be on his bad side. By the One, I think he's financed half this journey."
He turned back toward the young Shaman woman before him.
"I'm sorry, Miss Stempteasis, er, I'm sorry. But this is the wrong type of ship for you. Perhaps you should try the docks for one of the regular boats. Sabata has several that leave on a daily basis."
He put his hand back on Jack's shoulder.
"I've got to get moving and see about this cargo, Jack. Take care of this and meet me at the Crying Dragon, later, ok? Tell Garibu you're looking for me." The taller man gave Amica a once over and a quizzical look before turning and walking up the gang plank and onto the ship's deck.
"Listen, Jack. If Ramessu wants her and her kind gone, it's best you and I stay out of this. I know exactly who he is. He wields a lot of power in this city and, believe me, you and I do not want to be on his bad side. By the One, I think he's financed half this journey."
He turned back toward the young Shaman woman before him.
"I'm sorry, Miss Stempteasis, er, I'm sorry. But this is the wrong type of ship for you. Perhaps you should try the docks for one of the regular boats. Sabata has several that leave on a daily basis."
He put his hand back on Jack's shoulder.
"I've got to get moving and see about this cargo, Jack. Take care of this and meet me at the Crying Dragon, later, ok? Tell Garibu you're looking for me." The taller man gave Amica a once over and a quizzical look before turning and walking up the gang plank and onto the ship's deck.
That she was disappointed was apparent, though why she was disappointed was perhaps more carefully hidden. Barter, negotiation, and even trickery had failed, so she would have to take the machine by force, and that was never a pleasant circumstance even in the best of situations. Already she could imagine the number of guarrdi that might die for her task...they would not be the first she had been given to slay in her quest...but she never enjoyed such indiscriminate killing, and she could not predict how many would be sacrificed when the time came for them to make the Flying Machine theirs.
She turned her disappointed eyes upon Jack, her expression one of crest-fallen hopelessness, before she bowed slightly and turned, intent to leave. She would not leave of course, choosing instead to withdraw to a safer distance and inspect the machine carefully as well as those loading their goods within, preparing a strategy that would give her and T'Kil to be aboard and ready to do what had to be done. Once again we will have to come as the shadows, she decided, considering the Sky Captain's words about his appointment later at this Crying Dragon, a local tavern where the guarrdi went to drink. It will be then that we strike, descending upon Flying Machine without notice and securing our place within Him.
She turned her disappointed eyes upon Jack, her expression one of crest-fallen hopelessness, before she bowed slightly and turned, intent to leave. She would not leave of course, choosing instead to withdraw to a safer distance and inspect the machine carefully as well as those loading their goods within, preparing a strategy that would give her and T'Kil to be aboard and ready to do what had to be done. Once again we will have to come as the shadows, she decided, considering the Sky Captain's words about his appointment later at this Crying Dragon, a local tavern where the guarrdi went to drink. It will be then that we strike, descending upon Flying Machine without notice and securing our place within Him.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack looked at Rezon with a certain resignation. Ramessu was a powerful enemy to make and it made sense not to irritate him however much it went against Jack's moral fibre. He bit his lower lip. A pregnant girl against a powerful statesmen - it seemed like something from his father's tales. Except Jack was no shining knight with not the means to protect her.
Jack nodded and, seeing the woman turn he stepped down the gang-plank after her. He was not entirely sure what Rezon meant, whether to simply escort her from the landing strip or be perhaps a little more through. Jack smiled and considered the latter.
He hurried through the crowd after her. "Miss Tempestasis!" he called. As he drew near, Falchion clipping his heels as he ran, he dropped his voice into a more conspirational whisper.
"Wait a moment, if you need to leave the city it is possible I can help." Jack drew up to her and offered her an awkward bow, more an inclination of the head but an honorific all the same. "My name is Jack, Jack Farrell and I have the fortune of having made a few contacts in the city. But come, tell me more of your circumstances - how does a shaman of the People come to anger a man like Ramessu?" Jack thought that the more details he knew the more he could help and he felt honour bound to do so to the best of his ability. Even if all he could to was wave her off onto a boat by the Eveningtide he would try his damndest.
ooc:que amica, improvisation
Take care of this
Jack nodded and, seeing the woman turn he stepped down the gang-plank after her. He was not entirely sure what Rezon meant, whether to simply escort her from the landing strip or be perhaps a little more through. Jack smiled and considered the latter.
He hurried through the crowd after her. "Miss Tempestasis!" he called. As he drew near, Falchion clipping his heels as he ran, he dropped his voice into a more conspirational whisper.
"Wait a moment, if you need to leave the city it is possible I can help." Jack drew up to her and offered her an awkward bow, more an inclination of the head but an honorific all the same. "My name is Jack, Jack Farrell and I have the fortune of having made a few contacts in the city. But come, tell me more of your circumstances - how does a shaman of the People come to anger a man like Ramessu?" Jack thought that the more details he knew the more he could help and he felt honour bound to do so to the best of his ability. Even if all he could to was wave her off onto a boat by the Eveningtide he would try his damndest.
ooc:que amica, improvisation
The speed and certainty of the Sky Captain's response was such that the shaman knew no further negotiation was possible, and while it left Amica somewhat crestfallen, it had served to lay her heart at ease in that it had closed all other options save the one she would never attempt unless it became truly necessary. For a moment she had imagined Jack's death, the respectful foreigner burned by her magics or opened by her spear, the image filling her with great pain and hesitation. She would know great regret for this.
And then he called to her. He is unwilling to leave me to my plight. Then I was not mistaken about him, she thought, though his compassion would quickly become a burden to her. Every word or deed this Jack would offer to help her only served to further the guilt she would feel when she betrayed him. I will seek to spare as many as I can, and he will be among them, she thought, turning to speak with the man once more.
Smiling broadly, she blinked slowly before she spoke. "It is not Miss Tempestatis, for the People have no great Clan Name that they would pass on to their children as do the guarrdi," she said with a broad, meaningful smile. For reasons unknown to her, she found herself pleased to offer small truths about her heritage to this wet lander. "I am only Amica Tempestatis, which means Lover of Storm, daughter of Veris Lapidis, which means Strength of Stone. You would honor me to call me Ami, Jack Farrell," she added, pleased that he had at least introduced himself at last, a certain sign that he was perhaps not so apprehensive of her anymore.
Her style of speaking was customary among her kind...slow, deliberate, and patient. She considered his question for several flickers before she would answer, both truths as well as recent events coming fresh to her mind. Amica had never met this Remassu, but she had heard his name more than once since returning to Sabata, and she could only assume that it was own actions that gave him to rage against the People. Her battle with the Witch had left the People to rise up against the city that would hold T'Kil a criminal, and she would destroy a portion of this same city to free him, unleashing the Old Power in such a way that could not be ignored. Amica was settled in her heart that she had done right...the riot had been stopped, and T'Kil had been freed...and Remassu, like any other creature of this Waking World, would respond as his heart gave him to do. He would seek revenge.
The shaman would not lie, but also she would reveal none of the truths he wished from her. She would like to have told him...his was a kind face, at least...but prudence gave her to give protection from such knowledge, both for the guarrdi as well as the two shaman involved. "Why does the sea battle endlessly with the beach? Why does the wind mold and shape the sands? Remassu does as he feels he must, for We stand between him and his profits. All the People have been given to leave City by the Great Water, else we will suffer his tyranny and abuse," she said, cocking her head to one side to consider her companion for a moment.
It was then that a new thought occurred to her. It was a dangerous thought, but she had some time with this Jack Farrell to determine if it might be possible. If she were to make an ally of Jack Farrell, she and T'Kil could board the Flying Machine with ease...and they may not need to take the machine by force at all. It was a very unlikely, almost ludicrous possibility, but something in the eyes of Jack Farrell gave her to believe it was the Way that Fate had meant for her. Does he not look upon me with at least some lust? Did he not show some apprehension with my black sari, the mark of the Shaman? I could recruit him, and through him we might know a victory without the evils or hardships of violence. By seduction, truth, or even lies, Amica would try to recruit Jack Farrell to her cause.
But first she must speak with him alone and at length. "I would discuss this with you, Jack Farrell, for I know more than I say. But I suspect you have a great task to do here, and I would not keep you from it. I would not have you bring shame upon your name by suffering one of my kind," she said, certain that he would rise to her challenge and come away with her for a time.
And then he called to her. He is unwilling to leave me to my plight. Then I was not mistaken about him, she thought, though his compassion would quickly become a burden to her. Every word or deed this Jack would offer to help her only served to further the guilt she would feel when she betrayed him. I will seek to spare as many as I can, and he will be among them, she thought, turning to speak with the man once more.
Smiling broadly, she blinked slowly before she spoke. "It is not Miss Tempestatis, for the People have no great Clan Name that they would pass on to their children as do the guarrdi," she said with a broad, meaningful smile. For reasons unknown to her, she found herself pleased to offer small truths about her heritage to this wet lander. "I am only Amica Tempestatis, which means Lover of Storm, daughter of Veris Lapidis, which means Strength of Stone. You would honor me to call me Ami, Jack Farrell," she added, pleased that he had at least introduced himself at last, a certain sign that he was perhaps not so apprehensive of her anymore.
Her style of speaking was customary among her kind...slow, deliberate, and patient. She considered his question for several flickers before she would answer, both truths as well as recent events coming fresh to her mind. Amica had never met this Remassu, but she had heard his name more than once since returning to Sabata, and she could only assume that it was own actions that gave him to rage against the People. Her battle with the Witch had left the People to rise up against the city that would hold T'Kil a criminal, and she would destroy a portion of this same city to free him, unleashing the Old Power in such a way that could not be ignored. Amica was settled in her heart that she had done right...the riot had been stopped, and T'Kil had been freed...and Remassu, like any other creature of this Waking World, would respond as his heart gave him to do. He would seek revenge.
The shaman would not lie, but also she would reveal none of the truths he wished from her. She would like to have told him...his was a kind face, at least...but prudence gave her to give protection from such knowledge, both for the guarrdi as well as the two shaman involved. "Why does the sea battle endlessly with the beach? Why does the wind mold and shape the sands? Remassu does as he feels he must, for We stand between him and his profits. All the People have been given to leave City by the Great Water, else we will suffer his tyranny and abuse," she said, cocking her head to one side to consider her companion for a moment.
It was then that a new thought occurred to her. It was a dangerous thought, but she had some time with this Jack Farrell to determine if it might be possible. If she were to make an ally of Jack Farrell, she and T'Kil could board the Flying Machine with ease...and they may not need to take the machine by force at all. It was a very unlikely, almost ludicrous possibility, but something in the eyes of Jack Farrell gave her to believe it was the Way that Fate had meant for her. Does he not look upon me with at least some lust? Did he not show some apprehension with my black sari, the mark of the Shaman? I could recruit him, and through him we might know a victory without the evils or hardships of violence. By seduction, truth, or even lies, Amica would try to recruit Jack Farrell to her cause.
But first she must speak with him alone and at length. "I would discuss this with you, Jack Farrell, for I know more than I say. But I suspect you have a great task to do here, and I would not keep you from it. I would not have you bring shame upon your name by suffering one of my kind," she said, certain that he would rise to her challenge and come away with her for a time.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack's expression narrowed, this girl - no, woman, was an intrigue in herself. Jack listened to her words with a certain guarded countenance - he felt there was perhaps a certain deception at place here.
If she knows more than she tells... what is it she is afraid or unwilling to share?
Jack's hand strayed to the chain on his right wrist again - he treated the thing almost as a charm, ironic that a slave should turn to chains for comfort. He smiled at the bitter truth.
"Amica, Ami - that your people know oppression is not something unfamiliar to me, I have suffered it my entire life." Jack inhaled. He was getting into something deep here and he knew it. He ran his hand through his short crop of hair.
"I think I am going to regret this aren't I?" He looked at Amica, torn between the dream of flying the ship and the curiosity that surrounded this girl. He still felt it his duty to see her safe, although that spear seemed to indicate she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
"But If you have more to say then say it, I would like to at least understand what It is I am getting into." As an aside he added. "And I would not concern yourself of my shame. It is more likely I that bring disrespect to you." The last was softly spoken, not for Amica's ears though she may have caught the words amongst the noise of the crowd.
If she knows more than she tells... what is it she is afraid or unwilling to share?
Jack's hand strayed to the chain on his right wrist again - he treated the thing almost as a charm, ironic that a slave should turn to chains for comfort. He smiled at the bitter truth.
"Amica, Ami - that your people know oppression is not something unfamiliar to me, I have suffered it my entire life." Jack inhaled. He was getting into something deep here and he knew it. He ran his hand through his short crop of hair.
"I think I am going to regret this aren't I?" He looked at Amica, torn between the dream of flying the ship and the curiosity that surrounded this girl. He still felt it his duty to see her safe, although that spear seemed to indicate she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
"But If you have more to say then say it, I would like to at least understand what It is I am getting into." As an aside he added. "And I would not concern yourself of my shame. It is more likely I that bring disrespect to you." The last was softly spoken, not for Amica's ears though she may have caught the words amongst the noise of the crowd.
It would not have done to tell this Jack Farrell the whole of the truth, for she would incur the wrath of the elders if she did so...but she might reveal enough, and what she would reveal might surely give him to at least trust her. Curiosity was a devilish sin even among her own people, but even the guarrdi knew when some questions should remain unanswered. She would reveal only enough to convince this man of their need. And in time perhaps he will come to learn more of our secrets? Great trust might bring as much.
"Will you walk with me, Jack Farrell? We cannot speak with so many ears around," she declared, moving away to a more secluded alley before she would continue, her eyes sharp and careful for those that might catch any of her words. Even when she spoke, she did so very quietly, her words meant only for his ears. "This Remassu may seem a great threat, but in truth he is nothing to me," remarked Amica as they walked. "His is a world of fear and obligation, and he will soon enough realize that without the support of the People, his hopes for the desert will shrivel and die. Perhaps when my task is complete, I will return here to negotiate with Remassu and show him the error of his way," she added, truly amused with the dream of bringing several thousand of her people to demonstrate the futility of Remassu's silly activites here in City by the Great Water. "Do not think it is unusual that so many of the People leave this city now, Jack Farrell, for his actions may have given this place to be...unsafe," she added cryptically.
"I will tell you a great many things, Jack Farrell, and I will trust you to know discretion with them. Remassu hunts the People because we have defied his power. To free my companion, I destroyed his jail with the magics given to me by Dragon of Water. He has grown hostile with us, but this quarrel is not so strange a thing. He will always do as he feels he must, just as we will do the same. But to me he is but an inconvenience, one that does not concern me at all. Instead, I have a greater concern...and a greater enemy. Tell me, Jack Farrell...what do you know of the Dragon Kind?" she asked, having already revealed that she herself was an ally to Dragon of Water, the creature she had come to call Peshawgo, or He Who Is Misplaced.
"Will you walk with me, Jack Farrell? We cannot speak with so many ears around," she declared, moving away to a more secluded alley before she would continue, her eyes sharp and careful for those that might catch any of her words. Even when she spoke, she did so very quietly, her words meant only for his ears. "This Remassu may seem a great threat, but in truth he is nothing to me," remarked Amica as they walked. "His is a world of fear and obligation, and he will soon enough realize that without the support of the People, his hopes for the desert will shrivel and die. Perhaps when my task is complete, I will return here to negotiate with Remassu and show him the error of his way," she added, truly amused with the dream of bringing several thousand of her people to demonstrate the futility of Remassu's silly activites here in City by the Great Water. "Do not think it is unusual that so many of the People leave this city now, Jack Farrell, for his actions may have given this place to be...unsafe," she added cryptically.
"I will tell you a great many things, Jack Farrell, and I will trust you to know discretion with them. Remassu hunts the People because we have defied his power. To free my companion, I destroyed his jail with the magics given to me by Dragon of Water. He has grown hostile with us, but this quarrel is not so strange a thing. He will always do as he feels he must, just as we will do the same. But to me he is but an inconvenience, one that does not concern me at all. Instead, I have a greater concern...and a greater enemy. Tell me, Jack Farrell...what do you know of the Dragon Kind?" she asked, having already revealed that she herself was an ally to Dragon of Water, the creature she had come to call Peshawgo, or He Who Is Misplaced.
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Jack Farrell
- Civus
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- Location: Citadel
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Jack nodded appropriately to her words. He was getting into deep, deep water here. Word of the Gaols had littered the city, rumours ranging from structural faults, earthquakes and of course the damning of the Gods. Jack had dissmissed them - in dry heat bad workmanship could do strange things to dry mortar.
Amica's words filled Jack with a strange foreboding he had not felt since... Images stilled in his mind. Blinding cold, distant voices and death. He shook his head and tried to focus past the images of last night's dream. They were something to dwell on later, not now. Jack's face was carefully neutral. He was not entirely sure whether to believe this girl, she must be have been younger even than he was but she spoke with a certain conviction. She was either totally insane or a creature far more complex than he had first considered. He looked at her black shawl. If she truely was a shaman then likely the latter was the truth.
His mind boggled at the Idea of disregarding Ramessu as an enemy. The man owned an entire City. As she spoke of dragons he was ready to dismiss the girl as a crazed fool. He had never seen a living dragon, they were dead surely - hunted out long ago. Even Rezon, with all his time spent in the air had never seen one... but he had not said that they did not exist...
"Dragons Eh?" He remarked, leaning against the wall with one hand. "Nothing truth be told, locals reckon they live up in the mountains to the west and they are as rare as a virgin whore." He caught himself as the slight profanity slipped his lips - not sure how a Shaman would react. "Erm apologies lady, that is to say that I have yet to meet one who has seen one live." He nodded slightly in a placating bow.
Dragons... Airships... Running from Dejark was the wisest decision he had ever made in his life. Something however unsettled his soul. He felt apprehensive about this girl - she was something totally different, outside his ken if truth be told. He was treading the sands blind here with quick pools to either side. He felt that regardless of the choice he made here if he even had one, tonight would be eventful.
Amica's words filled Jack with a strange foreboding he had not felt since... Images stilled in his mind. Blinding cold, distant voices and death. He shook his head and tried to focus past the images of last night's dream. They were something to dwell on later, not now. Jack's face was carefully neutral. He was not entirely sure whether to believe this girl, she must be have been younger even than he was but she spoke with a certain conviction. She was either totally insane or a creature far more complex than he had first considered. He looked at her black shawl. If she truely was a shaman then likely the latter was the truth.
His mind boggled at the Idea of disregarding Ramessu as an enemy. The man owned an entire City. As she spoke of dragons he was ready to dismiss the girl as a crazed fool. He had never seen a living dragon, they were dead surely - hunted out long ago. Even Rezon, with all his time spent in the air had never seen one... but he had not said that they did not exist...
"Dragons Eh?" He remarked, leaning against the wall with one hand. "Nothing truth be told, locals reckon they live up in the mountains to the west and they are as rare as a virgin whore." He caught himself as the slight profanity slipped his lips - not sure how a Shaman would react. "Erm apologies lady, that is to say that I have yet to meet one who has seen one live." He nodded slightly in a placating bow.
Dragons... Airships... Running from Dejark was the wisest decision he had ever made in his life. Something however unsettled his soul. He felt apprehensive about this girl - she was something totally different, outside his ken if truth be told. He was treading the sands blind here with quick pools to either side. He felt that regardless of the choice he made here if he even had one, tonight would be eventful.
Last edited by Jack Farrell on Tue Sep 20, 2005 11:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Virgin whore?
"They are more common than you have been given to know, Jack Farrell," replied Amica mystically, having met several herself and having seen several more. The custom among her people was to always run and hide when the Dragon came, but in recent weeks the young shaman had learned that even among Dragon Kind there were loyalties, ideals, and division, just as there was among the elder council of Shamans. One of the Dragon Kind had become Amica's nemesis, while another had become her lover. "And it is one of their kind that concerns me. Let me now tell you of lies and truths."
"I have already lied to you and Sky Captain in hopes to deceive my way into Flying Machine. I am not married nor am I with child, both designs to bring me aboard your machine that it might carry me to the western mountains quickly, for I have precious little time to do that which must be done," she began, watching Jack closely for his reaction to her words. "I have also deceived you in my reasons for departing, for while Remassu is of no great concern to me...the bulk of his strength is made of the Red Tribe, and they will not obey this wet lander over the will of their own Shaman...he has become a most appropriate reason to explain my haste to depart quickly."
"Now I will speak to you of truths. There are Great Dragons, and one of them makes war upon my People. She is the Dragon of Wind, and she must be slain if my People...if all people...will survive. I go to do this now, and I will use Flying Machine to carry me to her swiftly," declared the shaman, nodding her head in the direction of the airship that was no longer in immediate eyesight. "I would prefer to use deceit such that no one must suffer my passage west, but such is the nature of my struggle against the Dragon of Wind that I will happily do anything to carry this battle to her."
Amica stepped close to Jack such that she nearly brushed against him, daring him to back away, her stern, serious, emerald green eyes unblinking as she stared into his own. The Talisman of the Peshawgo writhed and squirmed between her breasts as it always did, weakly motioning Amica towards the distant Peshawgo even now. "Dragon of Wind has already struck the first blow in this new war between Dragon and Man, a war that was fought and lost a thousand, thousand, thousand yahren ago. We cannot survive another struggle against Dragon Kind, Jack Farrell, for it will spill out beyond the desert and carry to the races of the guarrdi, to the City of the Flesh Peddlers over the mountains west to the Cities of the Seas to the East. United against Man, the Dragon Kind cannot be stopped, and this is what Dragon of Wind would seek with her treachery. I go to stop her, and I will have you help me to do this."
"They are more common than you have been given to know, Jack Farrell," replied Amica mystically, having met several herself and having seen several more. The custom among her people was to always run and hide when the Dragon came, but in recent weeks the young shaman had learned that even among Dragon Kind there were loyalties, ideals, and division, just as there was among the elder council of Shamans. One of the Dragon Kind had become Amica's nemesis, while another had become her lover. "And it is one of their kind that concerns me. Let me now tell you of lies and truths."
"I have already lied to you and Sky Captain in hopes to deceive my way into Flying Machine. I am not married nor am I with child, both designs to bring me aboard your machine that it might carry me to the western mountains quickly, for I have precious little time to do that which must be done," she began, watching Jack closely for his reaction to her words. "I have also deceived you in my reasons for departing, for while Remassu is of no great concern to me...the bulk of his strength is made of the Red Tribe, and they will not obey this wet lander over the will of their own Shaman...he has become a most appropriate reason to explain my haste to depart quickly."
"Now I will speak to you of truths. There are Great Dragons, and one of them makes war upon my People. She is the Dragon of Wind, and she must be slain if my People...if all people...will survive. I go to do this now, and I will use Flying Machine to carry me to her swiftly," declared the shaman, nodding her head in the direction of the airship that was no longer in immediate eyesight. "I would prefer to use deceit such that no one must suffer my passage west, but such is the nature of my struggle against the Dragon of Wind that I will happily do anything to carry this battle to her."
Amica stepped close to Jack such that she nearly brushed against him, daring him to back away, her stern, serious, emerald green eyes unblinking as she stared into his own. The Talisman of the Peshawgo writhed and squirmed between her breasts as it always did, weakly motioning Amica towards the distant Peshawgo even now. "Dragon of Wind has already struck the first blow in this new war between Dragon and Man, a war that was fought and lost a thousand, thousand, thousand yahren ago. We cannot survive another struggle against Dragon Kind, Jack Farrell, for it will spill out beyond the desert and carry to the races of the guarrdi, to the City of the Flesh Peddlers over the mountains west to the Cities of the Seas to the East. United against Man, the Dragon Kind cannot be stopped, and this is what Dragon of Wind would seek with her treachery. I go to stop her, and I will have you help me to do this."
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Jack Farrell
- Civus
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- Joined: Sun May 22, 2005 1:05 pm
- Location: Citadel
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"That is a great deal of deceit." Jack said, but his mind was not really on her words. He was reeling from the wealth of information that Amica had delivered, to a slave boy the sheer scale of the events she described was epic.
She intends to Slay a Dragon. This Dragon of wind. He thought. Was such a thing even possible? And how could a girl so slight have the necessary skill to accomplish such a deed? Magic. It is the only was she could hope to accomplish it, but then to overcome a Dragon she would have to be powerful indeed...
Jack looked at her with curiosity. She did not seem that powerful - but then there was something in her presence, a depth that had yet to be divined. Yet she was a girl asking for help, he was a freeloader with no brighter prospects than babysitting salt. Though 2 hours ago that had seemed like a dream come true.
Thoughts blurred his mind, how was she to take the airship? It needed Rezon to pilot it and it was unlikely that he would be swayed to altering his course. Then again, if they were heading for the Mouth, then they might make a stop at Dragon's Keep, that fortress carved out of the stony hills.
Jack shook his head. This was too big for him - too great. What possible help could he bring? He could not even use the sword he carried...
Even so something called to him. Take every opportunity in life, if you face difficulty, adapt, if you face rial, learn.
He smiled. Perhaps he could learn to be useful.
"Very well then." He replied. "How?"
She intends to Slay a Dragon. This Dragon of wind. He thought. Was such a thing even possible? And how could a girl so slight have the necessary skill to accomplish such a deed? Magic. It is the only was she could hope to accomplish it, but then to overcome a Dragon she would have to be powerful indeed...
Jack looked at her with curiosity. She did not seem that powerful - but then there was something in her presence, a depth that had yet to be divined. Yet she was a girl asking for help, he was a freeloader with no brighter prospects than babysitting salt. Though 2 hours ago that had seemed like a dream come true.
Thoughts blurred his mind, how was she to take the airship? It needed Rezon to pilot it and it was unlikely that he would be swayed to altering his course. Then again, if they were heading for the Mouth, then they might make a stop at Dragon's Keep, that fortress carved out of the stony hills.
Jack shook his head. This was too big for him - too great. What possible help could he bring? He could not even use the sword he carried...
Even so something called to him. Take every opportunity in life, if you face difficulty, adapt, if you face rial, learn.
He smiled. Perhaps he could learn to be useful.
"Very well then." He replied. "How?"