Date: 7/30/2002 10:52 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
He paced now, having exhausted most of the other time-eating processes he could think of. The floor underneath seemed to shrink away from his steps as he did so, as if reacting to the nasty glare that preceded his boots.
No, they weren't boots, they were slippers... silly ones at that. Somehow he didn't think that Koy would have interpreted Sasha's orders incorrectly, being the impeccable seamstress she was, so either Sasha had a funny idea of what the women of this society wanted, or a cruel sense of humor. He couldn't decide which.
The rest of the outfit didn't do much better. He was supposed to look like a dain, a manservant. In this case, a glorified pack animal, since he and Sasha would be impersonating travelers from distant lands coming to this city, Mauthril.
The briefing Sasha had given him the night before ran through his mind. In this land there were only three laws that concerned them. One: males weren't allowed to own anything more than they could carry. Two: males weren't allowed to be outdoors without female companionship. Three: males deferred to female authority, if there were to be any orders given or conflicts resolved, it was between the females. Basically do as you're told type thing.
Bah.
So he had to play patsy to Sasha's whims while they were there, giving the anthropologist her due. Granted she knew the society, but damn if it didn't feel like the woman was using this excuse to validate her existence in the form of imposing her will a little more than necessary.
He'd only met Beck once or twice in the rings, but he was already beginning to hate the boy. If they did manage to find him, you could be sure he was going to receive a Grade-A Tareth ass-whoooping.
The elder elf entered the atrium, carrying two familiar amulets and a pouch. They all looked rather ordinary, disks of stone etched with runes and a hole in the center and a plain leather bag with a drawstring about the size of Tareth's fist. However, they were some of the standard fare for Tareth and his travels. The amulets were transportation devices. One would stay here at Rousse's house, a homing beacon of sorts. The other would go with
Tareth, the ticket home. The pouch was something Tareth was rather proud of, having crafted it himself. Well, not himself, but it was his idea.
He claimed the two items he was taking with him, tucking them into his ratty old rucksack which he refused to go without, leaving the other amulet with Rousse. Seeing the stash of varied explosives, handguns and ammo inside the sack was somehow reassuring. Aside from the amulet, pouch, weapons, and single gem tucked into his waistband, that was all he was bringing with him. Everything else was dispensable and attainable once they were there.
"I have news." The old elf stated as he seated himself in one of the chairs of wrought-iron leaves and vines.
"Sasha's ready?" Tareth allowed a glimmer of hope.
"No, not yet. Other news." Rousse replied. Tareth motioned for him to continue, resuming pacing.
"The reason we had such a hard time finding a portal to this world was because most of them had been sealed or destroyed. That's why it took so long for the preparations to finalize, even with Ms. Greenbow's help."
"Sealed?" Tareth prompted.
"Yes. Very powerful magic the likes as I've never encountered before. Whomever has planar control of this world either decided they simply didn't want visitors anymore, or something very bad happened to them." Rousse left off, staring with those pupil-less green eyes at Tareth as he completed once circuit, moving back the other way.
"Is that going to prevent us from coming back?"
"Yes and no." Rousse, in maddening elf fashion, always seemed to have that answer. However, he learned long ago that his human companion had little tolerance for such riddling, so quickly expounded. "No, in the matter that the amulets open their own temporary portal. Yes, in the possibility that whomever created, sealed, and destroyed the permanent portals to and from that plane would certainly have the power to block these simpler magics should
you be detected and they so inclined."
"So tread lightly." Tareth responded, clasping his hands behind him. "Minimal impact was always part of the plan, easier to get what we need and get out than make a big fuss. I guess now it's more an imperative now."
"Indeed so. I won't be there to help you in this case." Rousse stated matter-of-factly.
"It wouldn't be a trip without you saying that, would it?" Tareth grinned ferally. "So everything else is ready to go?"
"Aside from your traveling companion, yes." Rousse nodded, tucking the tiny braid that hung down before his ear back behind it.
"Where the hell is she?"
Into the fire.
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire.
Date: 8/3/2002 1:03 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Sasha Dushku
"You need me? Why don't you just tell me where I'm going and go collect your paycheck from Rousse, or is he just paying you for your pretty looks?" he had said in a caustic tone, to which she had easily replied with her own harsh statement.
"I would LOVE to send you to where he lives. I'd happily go collect my "paycheck" for being his pretty little brains, but then I'd never get what I want either because you'd be snatched up so fast and made into a slave it'd make your arrogant, disgusting little head spin. I'd love to see that also, but for now, this is what we've got. You need me as much as I need you, and if you want your whatever you're looking for, I'd suggest you shut
that dirty hole in your face and grow up."
She remembered that conversation well from the night she'd tracked him down at the Outback and watched him fight. She also remembered going home and getting drunk after that. She had always wanted the chance to actually be apart of Kommordia, but it all had that impossibility to it.. and now.
Well, it was still unbelievable that she was actually going. Even in Koy's outfits that Sasha had had no time in actually going to pick up herself since she'd been so wrapped up in getting the museum ready for her departure, it felt beyond belief.
"Oh.. my stars." The outfit was just what she needed but as to actually wanting? Uh. No.
"It's granola bars, and wheat grass from here on out if I intend to keep this charade up." She chastised herself in the mirror. She knew that Tareth was out there waiting on her, knew that Rousse was probably tired himself and wanted his company to leave him to his peace.. but.. she still didn't have the courage to step out there in this outfit.
She smoothed her hands over her hips, criticizing in her mind how wide they were and how stuck out they looked in the tight pants, and then threw her hands up in the air.
"Oh stop it, you're obsessed. Time to get the show on the road." She was quite fond of talking to herself, it helped to ease the violently swirling thoughts in her head. She turned, tucking her stuff into her bag and thinking of her conversation with Tareth earlier that evening.
"Mautheril was founded when that particular piece of land went through a rebirth if you would..The land went through a major change, and those who were still alive were mostly women. They then built their own empire from the crumbled city, women in the before age were treated poorly, disregarded and treated worse than slaves. When the new era began, women sought to change this, and a new idea was formed as most of the people that had been found
were still half beaten down by the destruction. The change that had been made was completely opposite and the women began to rule, dominating over the men easily. Even the women that remained submissive in nature were regarded higher than men and left to live on their own. They procreated carefully, choosing their males selectively based on strength, looks and constitution. Male babies were sent to certain nannies to be raised as the submissive
and needed slaves, while the female persuasion were sent to another nanny to learn how to live and survive in this world that they'd created. They were taught how to dominate, how to control and how to keep their hands. It was a strict upbringing and laws are very rigid there. You'd be wise not to wander too far as all males are treated the same. You're either a working slave, or a breeding."
She took one last look in the mirror, gawking for a moment at the mistress outfit and turned to open the door, there was no turning back now.
From: Sasha Dushku
"You need me? Why don't you just tell me where I'm going and go collect your paycheck from Rousse, or is he just paying you for your pretty looks?" he had said in a caustic tone, to which she had easily replied with her own harsh statement.
"I would LOVE to send you to where he lives. I'd happily go collect my "paycheck" for being his pretty little brains, but then I'd never get what I want either because you'd be snatched up so fast and made into a slave it'd make your arrogant, disgusting little head spin. I'd love to see that also, but for now, this is what we've got. You need me as much as I need you, and if you want your whatever you're looking for, I'd suggest you shut
that dirty hole in your face and grow up."
She remembered that conversation well from the night she'd tracked him down at the Outback and watched him fight. She also remembered going home and getting drunk after that. She had always wanted the chance to actually be apart of Kommordia, but it all had that impossibility to it.. and now.
Well, it was still unbelievable that she was actually going. Even in Koy's outfits that Sasha had had no time in actually going to pick up herself since she'd been so wrapped up in getting the museum ready for her departure, it felt beyond belief.
"Oh.. my stars." The outfit was just what she needed but as to actually wanting? Uh. No.
"It's granola bars, and wheat grass from here on out if I intend to keep this charade up." She chastised herself in the mirror. She knew that Tareth was out there waiting on her, knew that Rousse was probably tired himself and wanted his company to leave him to his peace.. but.. she still didn't have the courage to step out there in this outfit.
She smoothed her hands over her hips, criticizing in her mind how wide they were and how stuck out they looked in the tight pants, and then threw her hands up in the air.
"Oh stop it, you're obsessed. Time to get the show on the road." She was quite fond of talking to herself, it helped to ease the violently swirling thoughts in her head. She turned, tucking her stuff into her bag and thinking of her conversation with Tareth earlier that evening.
"Mautheril was founded when that particular piece of land went through a rebirth if you would..The land went through a major change, and those who were still alive were mostly women. They then built their own empire from the crumbled city, women in the before age were treated poorly, disregarded and treated worse than slaves. When the new era began, women sought to change this, and a new idea was formed as most of the people that had been found
were still half beaten down by the destruction. The change that had been made was completely opposite and the women began to rule, dominating over the men easily. Even the women that remained submissive in nature were regarded higher than men and left to live on their own. They procreated carefully, choosing their males selectively based on strength, looks and constitution. Male babies were sent to certain nannies to be raised as the submissive
and needed slaves, while the female persuasion were sent to another nanny to learn how to live and survive in this world that they'd created. They were taught how to dominate, how to control and how to keep their hands. It was a strict upbringing and laws are very rigid there. You'd be wise not to wander too far as all males are treated the same. You're either a working slave, or a breeding."
She took one last look in the mirror, gawking for a moment at the mistress outfit and turned to open the door, there was no turning back now.
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire.
Date: 8/3/2002 2:21 AM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
The marketplace was teeming with life, justifiably so since this was the heart of the city's commerce. The crowded row, stuffed with carts and lined with huts, offered little in the way of personal space.
Glancing around, Tareth eyed the daily life around him. He stood clinging to the post holding up a gable in front of the jeweler's shop, waiting for Sasha to finish selling the small ruby he'd brought with him. Vendors were largely leary of foreign coins, but jewels were universal tender.
He got more than his fair share of odd looks as the locals passed by. The costumes were proper, but not exactly in fashion. One thing was certain though, and that was the truth behind Sasha's warnings. It was hard to spot most of the men in the crowd, because the women were so prominently dressed in bright hues and jewelry, their dain usually scurrying behind burdened down with packages and barely clothed in natural tones, tans and beiges.
Here and there strolled groups of women, chatting amiably with a boy or two accompanying them pulling carts. A rather self-important woman strode by, voluminous purple robe billowing behind her, followed by two armed female guards pulling a large man in chains.
That just made him look back into the mortar building behind him, anxious to see where his escort was supposed to be.
She emerged a few moments later, silently beckoning him into the narrow space between the buildings.
"Here, it's the best I could do." Sasha stated as she dumped thirteen gold coins into Tareth's awaiting hand.
"That's it?" Tareth scowled. "Either they don't have very good trade prices, or you got swindled. I paid twenty for it back in Rhydin. Eh well."
She scowled and tossed one more gold coin in his hand, as she'd really gotten 14 and had been holding out that one. "Well it's the best I could do as a stranger, you should be lucky I got us that much, slave."
He ignored her though, slinging his sack down to the ground to start digging though it. Producing the small leather pouch, he pulled the drawstring open and dropped one of the coins in it, sliding the rest into the front pocket of the rucksack.
Grinning, he tugged the string tight again and lifted it, letting it dangle before Sasha's gaze like some great prize.
"Uh, yeah, that's great." She replied, giving him an odd look.
Twitching his wrist, a soft clinking noise emanated from the sack. He looked at her expectantly.
"So?" She was getting cross now, folding her arms in front of her.
"So, it was empty before." He pulled the drawstring again, pulling out a coin and handing it to her. Then he pulled out another... and another. Again he shook the small bag, again it clinked delicately as if there were still coins colliding inside.
"It's magic, obviously. The coins you're holding are an illusion, replicas of the original we put in. They generally last for about a day before they fade away. I figure you have about a week before someone catches on, so spread it around. You can only pull one out at a time though." He held out the pouch to her once more. "You're the woman here, you have to pay for stuff. Just be careful with it, you have no idea how long it took to make."
As she gingerly accepted the sack, Tareth continued. "We need new outfits, ones that fit in so we don't look so much like outsiders. And I need a grappling hook, and some food. Then we can start sniffing around for rumors of FireStar. Any questions?"
Sasha just smiled sweetly. "Yes, where's the humility shop? You're running severely low."
From: TarethThrn
The marketplace was teeming with life, justifiably so since this was the heart of the city's commerce. The crowded row, stuffed with carts and lined with huts, offered little in the way of personal space.
Glancing around, Tareth eyed the daily life around him. He stood clinging to the post holding up a gable in front of the jeweler's shop, waiting for Sasha to finish selling the small ruby he'd brought with him. Vendors were largely leary of foreign coins, but jewels were universal tender.
He got more than his fair share of odd looks as the locals passed by. The costumes were proper, but not exactly in fashion. One thing was certain though, and that was the truth behind Sasha's warnings. It was hard to spot most of the men in the crowd, because the women were so prominently dressed in bright hues and jewelry, their dain usually scurrying behind burdened down with packages and barely clothed in natural tones, tans and beiges.
Here and there strolled groups of women, chatting amiably with a boy or two accompanying them pulling carts. A rather self-important woman strode by, voluminous purple robe billowing behind her, followed by two armed female guards pulling a large man in chains.
That just made him look back into the mortar building behind him, anxious to see where his escort was supposed to be.
She emerged a few moments later, silently beckoning him into the narrow space between the buildings.
"Here, it's the best I could do." Sasha stated as she dumped thirteen gold coins into Tareth's awaiting hand.
"That's it?" Tareth scowled. "Either they don't have very good trade prices, or you got swindled. I paid twenty for it back in Rhydin. Eh well."
She scowled and tossed one more gold coin in his hand, as she'd really gotten 14 and had been holding out that one. "Well it's the best I could do as a stranger, you should be lucky I got us that much, slave."
He ignored her though, slinging his sack down to the ground to start digging though it. Producing the small leather pouch, he pulled the drawstring open and dropped one of the coins in it, sliding the rest into the front pocket of the rucksack.
Grinning, he tugged the string tight again and lifted it, letting it dangle before Sasha's gaze like some great prize.
"Uh, yeah, that's great." She replied, giving him an odd look.
Twitching his wrist, a soft clinking noise emanated from the sack. He looked at her expectantly.
"So?" She was getting cross now, folding her arms in front of her.
"So, it was empty before." He pulled the drawstring again, pulling out a coin and handing it to her. Then he pulled out another... and another. Again he shook the small bag, again it clinked delicately as if there were still coins colliding inside.
"It's magic, obviously. The coins you're holding are an illusion, replicas of the original we put in. They generally last for about a day before they fade away. I figure you have about a week before someone catches on, so spread it around. You can only pull one out at a time though." He held out the pouch to her once more. "You're the woman here, you have to pay for stuff. Just be careful with it, you have no idea how long it took to make."
As she gingerly accepted the sack, Tareth continued. "We need new outfits, ones that fit in so we don't look so much like outsiders. And I need a grappling hook, and some food. Then we can start sniffing around for rumors of FireStar. Any questions?"
Sasha just smiled sweetly. "Yes, where's the humility shop? You're running severely low."
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire.
Date: 8/4/2002 5:10 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
As it turned out, the humility shop was just down the row, full of leather accouterments of restraint and discipline. Sasha thought it was funny as hell.
After gathering some appropriate clothes, the grappling hook and a length of rope... essentials for Tareth's trade... he was ready to retire to an inn for the night. Sasha, however, was too entranced with the wonders of her new world.
They stood outside an old bookshop, Tareth watching the people as Sasha thumbed through old manuscripts written in a language that was indecipherable to Tareth.
"Anything in there about Beck?" He inquired offhandedly, knowing full well there wasn't.
"I'm learning." She replied curtly, flipping a page and continuing her reading.
"About Beck?" Tareth returned, annoyed.
She ignored him. Several moments passed with only the sound of the crowd around them filling the space between.
"Yanno, it sure would be good to find that opal." Tareth stated again, exasperated.
"So go find it." She replied, still buried in her book.
He glared at the top of her head. He couldn't very well leave without her, nor could he reprimand her in public. Not here. Muttering obscenities, he returned to watching the street.
A flash of color in the background caught his attention. Peering closer, he could see a train of brightly dressed people coming their way. As they got closer, he could see that the bulk of the group was composed of female guards in blues and whites. In the middle of the procession, a curtained-off dais rode on the shoulders of eight men. The crowd parted around the group like water from a vessel's prow.
It was never good to be around someone important when your motives were shady, so he looked back to see if he could grab Sasha out of the way real quick.
However, she wasn't there. Nor was she anywhere in sight.
From: TarethThrn
As it turned out, the humility shop was just down the row, full of leather accouterments of restraint and discipline. Sasha thought it was funny as hell.
After gathering some appropriate clothes, the grappling hook and a length of rope... essentials for Tareth's trade... he was ready to retire to an inn for the night. Sasha, however, was too entranced with the wonders of her new world.
They stood outside an old bookshop, Tareth watching the people as Sasha thumbed through old manuscripts written in a language that was indecipherable to Tareth.
"Anything in there about Beck?" He inquired offhandedly, knowing full well there wasn't.
"I'm learning." She replied curtly, flipping a page and continuing her reading.
"About Beck?" Tareth returned, annoyed.
She ignored him. Several moments passed with only the sound of the crowd around them filling the space between.
"Yanno, it sure would be good to find that opal." Tareth stated again, exasperated.
"So go find it." She replied, still buried in her book.
He glared at the top of her head. He couldn't very well leave without her, nor could he reprimand her in public. Not here. Muttering obscenities, he returned to watching the street.
A flash of color in the background caught his attention. Peering closer, he could see a train of brightly dressed people coming their way. As they got closer, he could see that the bulk of the group was composed of female guards in blues and whites. In the middle of the procession, a curtained-off dais rode on the shoulders of eight men. The crowd parted around the group like water from a vessel's prow.
It was never good to be around someone important when your motives were shady, so he looked back to see if he could grab Sasha out of the way real quick.
However, she wasn't there. Nor was she anywhere in sight.
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire.
Date: 8/4/2002 5:25 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
"Report."
"We've secured him m'lady."
"Well done captain. How many injured?"
"12, m'lady. Only one seriously."
"And the prisoner? Is he wounded?"
"Only minorly, your ladyship."
"Then I wish to see him in the arena tomorrow."
"As you wish, m'lady."
From: TarethThrn
"Report."
"We've secured him m'lady."
"Well done captain. How many injured?"
"12, m'lady. Only one seriously."
"And the prisoner? Is he wounded?"
"Only minorly, your ladyship."
"Then I wish to see him in the arena tomorrow."
"As you wish, m'lady."
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire.
Date: 8/4/2002 6:07 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
He awoke cursing, with a headache, surrounded by stone and iron bars. Although it had been quite a while since he'd done this, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach of waking up in a dungeon was rather nostalgic.
The first thing he did was groan. The second thing was let loose a long string of cursing, most of the colorful phrases ending in "Sasha" or "damn woman".
Once he was done venting, he took stock of what he had. An aching head, bruised back, bloody knuckles (he couldn't recall offhand if that was his blood or not), a twisted elbow, no boots, no bag, no weapons, and only vague memories of what happened after one of the guards asked him where his female companion was.
He remembered coming up with a really good excuse, one that almost let him off with the guard, until whoever it was on the platform behind the curtains reminded her guard that there were no exceptions to the law. After that there were brief flashes of running and some fierce beatdowns he delivered before being nailed with a rock in the back of the head.
By the time he'd finished his little recollection, he'd done the usual inspection of his cell, finding the few flaws that most mideival-style dungeons possessed that made escape possible. But he'd need time, and recon on what lay between himself and the outside world first.
Moving back to the place he'd woken from, he assumed much the same posture as when he'd been dropped in there. It wouldn't do to let them know he'd been awake yet. Let them underestimate him for now. He needed to think and rest.
From: TarethThrn
He awoke cursing, with a headache, surrounded by stone and iron bars. Although it had been quite a while since he'd done this, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach of waking up in a dungeon was rather nostalgic.
The first thing he did was groan. The second thing was let loose a long string of cursing, most of the colorful phrases ending in "Sasha" or "damn woman".
Once he was done venting, he took stock of what he had. An aching head, bruised back, bloody knuckles (he couldn't recall offhand if that was his blood or not), a twisted elbow, no boots, no bag, no weapons, and only vague memories of what happened after one of the guards asked him where his female companion was.
He remembered coming up with a really good excuse, one that almost let him off with the guard, until whoever it was on the platform behind the curtains reminded her guard that there were no exceptions to the law. After that there were brief flashes of running and some fierce beatdowns he delivered before being nailed with a rock in the back of the head.
By the time he'd finished his little recollection, he'd done the usual inspection of his cell, finding the few flaws that most mideival-style dungeons possessed that made escape possible. But he'd need time, and recon on what lay between himself and the outside world first.
Moving back to the place he'd woken from, he assumed much the same posture as when he'd been dropped in there. It wouldn't do to let them know he'd been awake yet. Let them underestimate him for now. He needed to think and rest.
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire. (Sasha)
Date: 8/4/2002 6:37 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Sasha Dushku
She'd slipped into the book store out of the heat of the day and partially away from Tareth. He was annoying her with his need for answers. It wasn't until she stepped back out to ask him if he wanted lunch that she felt only slightly guilty that he was gone. However, the day was just what she wanted.
The day was high with laughter and the noise of celebration and ruckus. Banners and flags snapped in the wind breaking the milliseconds of silence that was available when the myriad of steps pounding on the cobble stone eased. Bottles could be heard clinking together and a roar of laughter here and there along with shouts of anger. Sasha walked around, taking deep breaths and generally enjoyed immersing herself into the actual life style and
momentum of Kommordia's routine.
She sampled foods here and there, tasted wines and other various drinks in another area, and bought several bolts of fabric and other such fanciness that she knew Tareth would not approve of, not that she cared. It was the thought of Tareth and her contract to Rousse that startled her out of her reverie. She knew she had made a promise, and her word was her word. With a resigned sigh she turned to drop her belongings into the hotel room and
headed off into the warm day towards the museum. She'd learned in the book she had studied that most of the history of the world was carefully exploited in the vast expanse.
Gingerly she stepped her way through the myriad of halls, seeing many things of interest, but none that was of what she needed. It wasn't until she was in the last leg of the wings that something sparked her interest and she blinked, startled forth into an array of questions. Kept, so very locked away behind a shield of glass was a very familiar bracer. Dashing looks left and right she pulled out the picture of Beck, careworn, but still
evidently the boy and .. the bracer. It was his.
She bent down to examine the markings, struggling to read the symbols.
Very few have passed through the Kithainis empire since it's destruction at the hand of a very intense explosion, said to be caused by a renegade unnamed slave, known through the land now as the Legendary Rage. The land, too inhibited by smoke and debris even months after the tragedy only yielded fine metals, such as the bracer found here by a wandering traveler and generously donated to our museum.
She righted herself and took a gasp in. Explosion? Did that mean... Beck? Her shoulders slumped visibly as she leaned against the column nearby.
"It brings them close." A voice nearby said, startling the red head into attention.
"What does?" She spoke carefully, looking the newest over curiously. The woman was immaculately dressed, or would have been had the outfit been any what new. It looked as though the woman barely thought to change her outfit at all as it had seen better days.
"The display. Of my former home. Launna sent us away."
Sasha froze, willing the woman on further but dared not to speak.
"I suppose she thought she knew what she was doing but then we heard it. Even miles away, we heard it." She broke off, wandering away from Sasha, lost in her own world of grief and still evidently blaming herself for the whole misfortune.
Sasha herself was giddy with excitement, she'd heard from Rousse what the opal was capable of. Maybe Beck had returned and blasted his homeland out of existence Maybe he was still out there, watching the ashes for any attempt at someone coming back. She'd find him oh yes, and she had many questions when she did. The other woman had already moved onto another display and was looking at it longingly. The redhead herself spun to move from the
museum and try and find Tareth, she had her answers now.
From: Sasha Dushku
She'd slipped into the book store out of the heat of the day and partially away from Tareth. He was annoying her with his need for answers. It wasn't until she stepped back out to ask him if he wanted lunch that she felt only slightly guilty that he was gone. However, the day was just what she wanted.
The day was high with laughter and the noise of celebration and ruckus. Banners and flags snapped in the wind breaking the milliseconds of silence that was available when the myriad of steps pounding on the cobble stone eased. Bottles could be heard clinking together and a roar of laughter here and there along with shouts of anger. Sasha walked around, taking deep breaths and generally enjoyed immersing herself into the actual life style and
momentum of Kommordia's routine.
She sampled foods here and there, tasted wines and other various drinks in another area, and bought several bolts of fabric and other such fanciness that she knew Tareth would not approve of, not that she cared. It was the thought of Tareth and her contract to Rousse that startled her out of her reverie. She knew she had made a promise, and her word was her word. With a resigned sigh she turned to drop her belongings into the hotel room and
headed off into the warm day towards the museum. She'd learned in the book she had studied that most of the history of the world was carefully exploited in the vast expanse.
Gingerly she stepped her way through the myriad of halls, seeing many things of interest, but none that was of what she needed. It wasn't until she was in the last leg of the wings that something sparked her interest and she blinked, startled forth into an array of questions. Kept, so very locked away behind a shield of glass was a very familiar bracer. Dashing looks left and right she pulled out the picture of Beck, careworn, but still
evidently the boy and .. the bracer. It was his.
She bent down to examine the markings, struggling to read the symbols.
Very few have passed through the Kithainis empire since it's destruction at the hand of a very intense explosion, said to be caused by a renegade unnamed slave, known through the land now as the Legendary Rage. The land, too inhibited by smoke and debris even months after the tragedy only yielded fine metals, such as the bracer found here by a wandering traveler and generously donated to our museum.
She righted herself and took a gasp in. Explosion? Did that mean... Beck? Her shoulders slumped visibly as she leaned against the column nearby.
"It brings them close." A voice nearby said, startling the red head into attention.
"What does?" She spoke carefully, looking the newest over curiously. The woman was immaculately dressed, or would have been had the outfit been any what new. It looked as though the woman barely thought to change her outfit at all as it had seen better days.
"The display. Of my former home. Launna sent us away."
Sasha froze, willing the woman on further but dared not to speak.
"I suppose she thought she knew what she was doing but then we heard it. Even miles away, we heard it." She broke off, wandering away from Sasha, lost in her own world of grief and still evidently blaming herself for the whole misfortune.
Sasha herself was giddy with excitement, she'd heard from Rousse what the opal was capable of. Maybe Beck had returned and blasted his homeland out of existence Maybe he was still out there, watching the ashes for any attempt at someone coming back. She'd find him oh yes, and she had many questions when she did. The other woman had already moved onto another display and was looking at it longingly. The redhead herself spun to move from the
museum and try and find Tareth, she had her answers now.
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire. (Sasha)
Date: 8/4/2002 7:02 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
"Right, listen up!" The bald, wirey old man hollared over the crowd. Tareth pricked his ears forward, even as the spear-wielding guards pushed him into the back of the room filled with other men and closed the iron gates behind him. They fetched him from his cell just moments before, forcing him to march up here without explaination. It seemed he was about to get one.
"You're here today because you're not good for anything else!" The old man called, hopping up on one of the stone benches to let his voice carry over the heads of everyone else in the room. Columns, arches and benches seemed part and parcel to the room, somehow Tareth was reminded of a kind of roman-style locker room. The only other door to the room lay behind the old guy lecturing them.
"Well, since you failed to look pretty enough, work well enough, or are just plain stubborn, here's your last chance. Either be entertaining, or get sent to the coal mines."
A rumble of disapproval rolled through the crowd. Obviously the coal mines weren't popular here.
"Rules are simple. Last man standing may make a request of her ladyship. Anyone who kills anyone else is subject to the same in return. Wait for her ladyship's gesture to start fightin' or yer disqualified. If ya win, or the crowd likes ya, you can stay. The rest of you buggers get carted off to the mines. Any questions? Too bad! You shoulda paid attention better."
The old man hopped down, disappearing from Tareth's field of view. The other men in the room somehow seemed too pressing, he knew each and every one of them would be his foe soon enough. Mentally, he started sizing up the ones nearest him, watching for flaws in their movements that might give away a bum knee, blind spot, or other such weaknesses.
The doors at the other end of the room creaked open, everyone began to file out. Somewhere outside in the bright light a gong began to sound, and Tareth's heart stepped up the tempo a few notches.
From: TarethThrn
"Right, listen up!" The bald, wirey old man hollared over the crowd. Tareth pricked his ears forward, even as the spear-wielding guards pushed him into the back of the room filled with other men and closed the iron gates behind him. They fetched him from his cell just moments before, forcing him to march up here without explaination. It seemed he was about to get one.
"You're here today because you're not good for anything else!" The old man called, hopping up on one of the stone benches to let his voice carry over the heads of everyone else in the room. Columns, arches and benches seemed part and parcel to the room, somehow Tareth was reminded of a kind of roman-style locker room. The only other door to the room lay behind the old guy lecturing them.
"Well, since you failed to look pretty enough, work well enough, or are just plain stubborn, here's your last chance. Either be entertaining, or get sent to the coal mines."
A rumble of disapproval rolled through the crowd. Obviously the coal mines weren't popular here.
"Rules are simple. Last man standing may make a request of her ladyship. Anyone who kills anyone else is subject to the same in return. Wait for her ladyship's gesture to start fightin' or yer disqualified. If ya win, or the crowd likes ya, you can stay. The rest of you buggers get carted off to the mines. Any questions? Too bad! You shoulda paid attention better."
The old man hopped down, disappearing from Tareth's field of view. The other men in the room somehow seemed too pressing, he knew each and every one of them would be his foe soon enough. Mentally, he started sizing up the ones nearest him, watching for flaws in their movements that might give away a bum knee, blind spot, or other such weaknesses.
The doors at the other end of the room creaked open, everyone began to file out. Somewhere outside in the bright light a gong began to sound, and Tareth's heart stepped up the tempo a few notches.
-
DoF Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 2684
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:28 am
Re: Into the fire.
Date: 8/4/2002 7:37 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn
The sunlight struck his eyes as he jogged into the daylight, momentarily blinding him. The sound of other men jostling alongside him kept him moving in the right direction though, until he could finally glance around and see something other than whiteness and other guys. He was only slightly prepared for the sight that greeted him.
It was a real-life honest-to-god collesseum, complete with roman-style columns, arches, steps and a magistrate's box at the end of the oval-shaped packed dirt display area. He moved away from the general crowd as they dispersed across the fighting floor, and thoughts of gladiators ran through his head as the seething throng gathered around them started to cheer and make his head swim with the amount of noise they created. Now he knew what the Lions
felt like on the one Sunday they made it to the Superbowl in 2011. Hopefully he wouldn't choke as badly as they did.
The adreanaline was amazing, he could hear a snippet of song coursing through his brain as he prepared for a melee. Shaking out his limbs, he bobbed slightly to Queen playing One Vision across his brain as he tried to dredge up some of the fighting reflexes pounded into him since he was thirteen.
Squinting and shielding his eyes with a hand, he tried to make out the magistrate's box, but couldn't manage. He didn't need to worry about seeing "her ladyship" though, again the gong sounded, and immediately the two men nearest him started rushing toward him, shouting.
From: TarethThrn
The sunlight struck his eyes as he jogged into the daylight, momentarily blinding him. The sound of other men jostling alongside him kept him moving in the right direction though, until he could finally glance around and see something other than whiteness and other guys. He was only slightly prepared for the sight that greeted him.
It was a real-life honest-to-god collesseum, complete with roman-style columns, arches, steps and a magistrate's box at the end of the oval-shaped packed dirt display area. He moved away from the general crowd as they dispersed across the fighting floor, and thoughts of gladiators ran through his head as the seething throng gathered around them started to cheer and make his head swim with the amount of noise they created. Now he knew what the Lions
felt like on the one Sunday they made it to the Superbowl in 2011. Hopefully he wouldn't choke as badly as they did.
The adreanaline was amazing, he could hear a snippet of song coursing through his brain as he prepared for a melee. Shaking out his limbs, he bobbed slightly to Queen playing One Vision across his brain as he tried to dredge up some of the fighting reflexes pounded into him since he was thirteen.
Squinting and shielding his eyes with a hand, he tried to make out the magistrate's box, but couldn't manage. He didn't need to worry about seeing "her ladyship" though, again the gong sounded, and immediately the two men nearest him started rushing toward him, shouting.