Atheryin: Fall of Thyros

[VirtualWeasel]

The Lyrian Camp
The Lyrian guard approached the merchant conversing with Baldric, handing him the cloak in a frustrated thrust straight into the merchant's face.
"Ta-Paia kamaiek." The guard said loudly, causing some of the other Lyrians to fidget a bit, and exchange childish looks of entertainment at the thought of the disappeared girl's punishment.
"Aen val dreiaita pa, itrae ta-draen ka afilas." The merchant held the cloak, turning back quickly for the other trinket, which the guard forgetfully gave him after a slight pause. The Lyrian carefully felt the cloak, making sure it was in top condition, and proceeding to fold it delicately before handing it to Baldric. "I trust you'll find it to your satisfaction." As he was pushing the cloak toward the Jarvah, the Lyrian merchant slipped a silvery brooch on top of the cloak. It was the shape of a sun, eclipsed by the moon. The half exposed, crescent-like part of the sun was a bright, gleaming golden material, while the smaller, circular moon was a dark, but nearly monochromatically iridescent, pale blue-black color. "For the good company, eh? Free of charge. Keeps the cloak together."
The merchant grinned the typical Lyrian grin: A sly, charming one, with an animalistic danger to it.

One of the Lyrian merchant assistants handed Aneira one of the pipe's hoses, implying she join in on the smoking around the camp. Another did the same to Ran.

Saroné & the Tallin
"Quite the story. But I've got one that could certainly top it." The Tallin paused for a moment, shifting around on the crate to find a more comfortable position.
"There's a crusade, an elven crusade in the south of Atheryin, to retake the city of Amazaʀayë Zaron, the elven ancestral homeland held in the clutches of the cruel Himara. A society of men, these Himara, and a particularly filthy one at that. They have had no regard for our people's heritage, an no respect for its values. So, those elves who are willing, whether they be mercenaries or trained soldiers, it does not matter, have been called to aid in a crusade to finally free the great elven city.
I myself recently decided to join the crusade, nearly five months ago I joined the first assault on Wēihn, a powerful barony in the far northwest of the Himara Empire. As we marched toward the city, men of the horde, atop their horses and chariots, armed with the highest grade of weaponry the foul apes could scrape up, waited for us. Our general insisted there was a traitor among us who notified the enemy of our coming. We waited for three days outside the baron's hold, in a low field looking up to the castle, a short distance away. The armies never moved from their position, until the final dawn we had planned to stay. The nightwatchmen had noticed the troops and their mounts had completely vanished, and were dumbfounded. Expecting a charge straight from the castle, our men assembled in the front of the camp, awaiting the enemy's planned attack.
But we were foolish. Those ingenious [&@%!] knew we'd be too curious for our own good, and charged out from the forest behind our camp, where we were least expected. The horses were too quick for ground cavalry, and the pikemen were too disorganized... The camp was torn to shreds, along with its denizens. Elf after elf was slaughtered mercilessly by these Himara, as a message to our crusaders that we will not be tolerated. Anxious to save at least part of his unit, our commander escaped atop a hill and hailed the last men that remained to fall back. And we did.
Needless to say, morale was down, but we expected an Aednun reinforcement in several days. After the Himara had cleared, the devils took the heads of nearly every elf in the camp, sticking their heads on stakes around the ruined siege camp... But the true horror was that they had removed each soldier's spine, and taken them as a trophy. We buried what little was left of the dead in our camp, the limp, deflated corpses of each elf crusader, all of which were unidentifiable beyond all comprehension.
When the Aednun finally arrived, we charged Wēihn once again, where the Himarans waited once more outside the castle, this time bearing the disembodied spine of our warriors fashioned to their own backs, or across the necks of their horses. Some even used them as weaponry.
But, this time stronger in our hate and vengeance, we struck the barony harder than any army before us, destroying each Himaran man the same way they defiled ours.

The next day, unfortunately, I was called away from service among the crusaders, to serve in the legions against Emperor Navarro. I regret not being there with my fellow elves to take on the great city itself, and I take no pleasure in being here to fight a man's war." The Aednun took a long, heavy breath, clearly suppressing both rage and remorse.

Aes & The Girl
The Lyrian girl smiled at the poetic rhythm to Aes' sentences, and stood up rather quickly, implying he follow her where she was going.
"I'm sure we have something. Let's go see." There was innocence and kindness in her voice, and she began to walk forward with a light grace and bounce in her step.

The Duel
"Come on, Dunaan, we don't have all night!" The Jarvah swung his axe from above his head, this time with the full blade hurling forward toward Odhran's left side. He began to stumble a bit, but kept minor balance as the axe came forward.

[Baloth-Kul]

Baldric nodded and accepted the cloak. He swept it over his shoulders, and fastened the brooch. "My thanks. How much for the cloak?" The Jarvah reached for his coinpurse. He silently hoped it wasn't terribly expensive.

[Derp53]

Aneira was not enthused at the idea of getting high on Kvurian Nightshade before the possibility of war and only inhaled a small fraction of what Baldric's regular inhalation would have been. As the smoke hit her throat she coughed loudly, completely unused to the drug despite its somewhat common use by a few nobles and merchants in Rin "Baldric, I don't know how you've been handling this, but anymore than one whiff of this and my throat is going to be sore for the next week." Quite insistent on refusing anymore of the drug, she put the hose back on its slot on the pipe.

Then a thought hit her and leaned back on the log to face the Lyrian who had handed Baldric the cloak "If you wouldn't mind, do you have poisons or healing salves you could recommend before we go into battle? I'd like to be prepared before facing an enemy that requires a certain method of being killed or the possibility of a wound."

[Sav]

Odhran tried his best to dodge to his right, attempting to hit the Jarvah with a blow to the head after he had done so. Unlike the opponent, Odhran was silent as a ghost the entire time, focusing on dodging the attacks.

[The SheoDovah]

"I have to admit, your tale is far bigger then mine." Saroné told the Tallin as he looked up at the sky. "We'll make those steel [&@%!] pay for what they have down to our kind." Sarone said to his fellow Tallin with a serious voice. "Now, i don't take many things seriously but my heart and soul is telling me to use my gift against those dicks however, i may as well chuck stones at them as those utter, utter [&@%!] will most likely use their fancy anti-magic crap to stop us from casting spells." He said to the Tallin as he looked at his own hands.

[VirtualWeasel]

The Lyrian Camp
"Eh..." The Lyrian appeared to be counting in his head, muttering several calculations of conversion to himself. "60 of the Gaichré." He awaited payment, but began to talk with Aneira in the meantime. "I am not the expert of alchemy, that is Kapas." He pointed across the fire to one of the other three merchants. Kapas wore the large, silver-cord necklace adorned with curious scales, and spoke up not too short after the other had mentioned him.
"Poisons yes, salves, no. Things to make salves, yes, but I have none pre-made. They do not keep when carried across the Kamunadi, so I do not waste my ingredients to make them." Kapas stood up on his long, digitigrade legs. He was built leaner and significantly taller than the others in the camp, with white fur, speckled with black spots and patches. His face was nearly half black as a result, the charcoal color invading from above his left eye in a large patch with spotted edges. His eyes were a deep, crystal blue, with a slight black ring around the inner and outer edges of the iris.
"Follow me, and I will show you."

The Duel
Odhran moved out of the way, but the combined lateness of his dodge and the axe's position caused it to snag the Dunaan's chainmail. The ebony snapped the mail like a knife through butter, making an entire ream of his left torso seem to shatter and fall to pieces. The blade grazed the side of his abdomen in the process, cutting through the thin tunic underneath and leaving a nasty, bloody scrape on his left obliques. The axe hurled to the ground, pulling the Jarvah forward a bit as it struck the ground. The blade dug deep and stuck itself in the dirt slightly, but the Jarvah began to free it with ease as he recuperated.

Saroné & The Tallin
"Aye, and pay they will. I've no doubt in my mind that the crusade will be a success." The Tallin said, confidently. "The Himara and the Templars, which I assume you speak of, are not one in the same—those you believe will manipulate you with magic-blocking substances and weapons are the Templars, and they are mostly men, yes, but their technology is rare, and expensive to acquire. The things they possess are nearly exclusive to them as a result, so the Himara are no match for the power of elven magic. That is to say, however, that their Arano blood makes them more inclined to magic than any other type of man in existence... Save maybe the Thyrids. Why this is, we don't really know, but one thing is for sure: they are a formidable foe, but no match for an elven master."

[Baloth-Kul]

Hidden:

How bout a perspective, here? Does 60 seem a fair price? How much for an average meal, for a horse, a house?

Baldric considered bartering, but 60 was quite a fair price. "Here." He handed over 60 gaichre to the Lyrian merchant.

[Derp53]

Aneira stood up and subtly stuck her finger in her coinpurse counting out how much she had under the guise of adjusting some things in her satchel "I'm ready when you are, show me what you have."

[Baloth-Kul]

Hidden:

You have 100 Gaichre, if you missed Weasel's saying that before. Everyone does. Except for ME. I have one hundred and ONE. Yes. Ha-haaa. ...Not for long, though.

[Derp53]

Spoiler:

I already knew that, just had Aneira recount because its in her nature to be meticulous, also I already spent a lot of it for something later in the RP.

[VirtualWeasel]

Hidden:

It took 75 Gaichre to tailor Aneira's Templar armor. Given this is a new fur, probably a bearskin at that (given Baldric's size), it's actually a pretty fair price for the work that would have been put into it. I don't personally know the value of the Gaichre, Pom doesn't have a table up on the wiki for it, but 60 should be fairly cheap for a cloak like that. Plus you're getting a free brooch, so, good deal.

And no, Aneira's only got 25 Gaichre left, after the whole tailoring thing.

[Baloth-Kul]

Hidden:

Edited! No bartering. Heh.

[Sav]

Odhran reeled back in pain, but, seeing an opportunity to wound the Jarvah further, tried his best to ignore it. He immediately swung his sword at the Jarvah, hoping to land a hit on him.

[VirtualWeasel]

The Lyrian Camp
The merchant happily took the money from Baldric, and bowed his head in gratitude.
Kapas led Aneira over to the front wagon in the circle. Its back was turned slightly away from the campfire, far enough to keep the light from casting on its doors, but close enough to hear the occasional laughter and mutters of those surrounding the fire. The Lyrian opened the large doors of his wagon, and climbed inside. The vessel was large enough to stand in, and was rather livable on the inside. Padded and layered bedrolls were tucked in corners, a table was fastened to swing down from the wall when needed, and various other contraptions helped to clear space when needed. Close to the front of the wagon's insides was a whole wall, lined with a large mahogany cabinet bolted into the wall, with glass doors framed with wood to keep the alchemical materials inside visible. On one side, all sorts of bottles off different colors and shapes were stacked within it, and on the other, the shelves were stacked with various dried and living plants, as well as all varieties of animal products, metals, and magical items. Kapas opened the side full of bottled potions, and looked back at Aneira over his shoulder.
"What is your budget? I have poisons, yes, but they are not all so cheap... Some are harder to make than others."

The Duel
Odhran's swing hit the Jarvah's other leg, cutting through the metal plate entirely, but bouncing slightly off the chainmail after fracturing its ringlets a bit. The Jarvah let out a loud groan, and was clearly bruised from the impact. His skin was not broken, however, and he recuperated quickly, twice as enraged. He grasped the axe higher now, so he could swing far more nimbly. The Jarvah brought the axe behind him slightly to take one quick swing at Odhran's weakened left side. He stumbled and faltered a bit more as the axe's weight pulled him back, but maintained a decent balance.

[Baloth-Kul]

"If you don't mind, I think I'll...sit around for awhile." Baldric said to the merchant. "Not sure I want to wander around the camps in such a state."

[BetaB17]

The scholar followed in pace, with his arm behind his back and his chin low. Walking through these camps were far from ideal, he kept his eyes upon the ground never meeting eyes with any. It's not that he largely disliked any social settings but his history with such has proven troublesome to his works. Still, be it as it may, he was far better off amongst the merchants from distant lands than surrounded by men drenched in ale.

[Derp53]

Removing her coinpurse from her satchel, Aneira spoke frankly "20 Gaichres at the most, I understand that might be an inhibiting factor in our transaction but I trust in your experience and skill that you can make that work."

[The SheoDovah]

"They shall indeed. We have the goods and they have the coin so we shall make sure they fufill their end of the contract." Saroné did not doubt his powers but knew that he was no match for the templars and knew he would die fighting to his very last breath against the bigots. "Afterwards, we can all go back to our daily lives and hopefully have our boons granted by the duke." He said to the Tallin as he ran his hands through his own hair.

[Hissien]

Q'lorra nodded, and left Mak's tent. She decided that now would be the best time to practice before pressing forward. That and being a woman she did not particularly feel like being on the receiving end of any less than savory looks. Things were definitely different here, that was for sure. The mage sighed exasperatedly, feeling very much out of place in a large camp and could not help feeling like she would be more out of place both by virtue of her craft and her race. While many men had a respect for the destructive power of magic, they were still commonfolk, and commonfolk generally had little regard for the practitioners of the craft by virtue of their ignorance. And a woman? She might as well have painted a large proclamation on her robes saying that she had a bounty on her head and that she had insulted the Duke's honor. Pinching her brow she found her way to a relatively clear area, and began clearing her mind. She breathed deeply, attempting to clear all thoughts from her head. The air was cold as it made its way into her lungs and hot when it left them, such was the way of things. She thought on this process, dissecting as a necromancer would a corpse or a pyromancer his flame, she was air. Air was life. Life, consumed it, changed it and made it free once again. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling the faint breeze that was the night sky. She was ready, or so she hoped to face the coming threat.

Using her intaken breath, she released a concentrated burst of air directly into the sky above. The gale parted her lips with a mighty force, though for all the build it up was somewhat lackluster. The effort drained her ever so slightly, more emotionally than physically for she had hoped for more.

Hidden:

Sorry for my absence, hopefully this makes up for it slightly, if there are any problems with my post just let me know.

[VirtualWeasel]

The Lyrian Camp
"It is understandable. Men among these hills are not too keen on the outsider." The merchant said to Baldric. "So, tell me, Jarvah, why is it your people are after you? Surely you are no criminal... Or perhaps you are, and have spared us your wrath."

Aes and the Lyrian girl approached the back of the rear-most wagon, the girl trying hard not to be caught. She swung open the doors, and stepped inside. She searched several crates and barrels, until she found a small vial of black ink.
"Good quality ink... It's gonna cost you." She smiled playfully at Aes.

Kapas sighed slightly, and turned back to the shelves in the cabinet. He pushed aside several bottles, blues, greens, browns and golds alike, until he pulled a rather large jar out of the back of the middle shelf. The jar was at one time for food or drink, but now was filled with a sickly green colored liquid, that moved like molasses. The Lyrian reluctantly twisted the lid of the jar off, and almost immediately a foul smell of what seemed like a mixture of death and home-fermented liquor. There was a look of incredible displeasure on Kapas' face, but he tried to speak regardless.
"Hemlock leaf, Rush mold, and Dogbane, in fermented molasses. Boiled and left to simmer in a cauldron for 3 days. The hemlock paralyzes the muscles lightly, Rush mold locks the joints, and Dogbane slows the heart. The fermented molasses gives it a burning sensation when it gets in the body. The mixture is not horribly strong, though, as these ingredients are expensive, but it should do you enough good. 15 Gaichre for it." He paused for a moment, handing the jar to Aneira, before remembering she wanted healing ingredients as well. Kapas leaned back on the cabinet and sighed for his wallet.
"As much of a merchant as I am, I despise tyranny more than I am greedy. There are yellow flowers in the field outside. Crush the whole flower—save the stem—and add water. Heat it until steam begins to come off. There are ferns on the border of the plain here the forest begins; they are unlike the others, a result of a plantation master's mistake. Harvest their stalks, and squeeze the milk out of them, into the flower and water. The mixture will sputter and smoke, let it do this until it stops, then apply to any wounds. It is a weak remedy, but it will help any man in a tight situation." Kapas waited for Aneira to head out and do what he said, and also for payment.
Saroné & The Dude
"I sure hope I don't. After this, I'm heading first thing for the crusade. My daily life doesn't hold a candle to the thrill of liberating my own people." The Tallin stared into the ground, clearly in an inner deep thought.

Q'lorra
The blast moved the air in the sky like a small torrent, before dispersing and circulating back down to the ground. It rustled the tall grasses around, making them dance in the moonlight. There were trees nearby as well that Q'lorra could use for practice.

[Derp53]

Aneira took a whiff and nodded in appreciation, setting the jar down she pulled out her coinpurse and handed Kapas 15 Gaichres making a mental note to start saving what little she had left "I really appreciate your help my friend, if your convoy ever comes to Rin, I'll put in a good word with Lord Rinnan for you and your people." Picking up the jar and screwing the lid on tight, Aneira bowed her head exited the tent gently putting the jar into her satchel and headed to obtain the flowers first.

[Baloth-Kul]

"But I am a criminal." Baldric replied plainly. "No papers." He stifled a chuckle. "Do I look like a fisherman to you? ...No. I would rather have been anything else. A miner. A trader. ...A merchant. But a fisherman? Being required, by law, to haul stinking fish out of the ocean, for 'my kingdom'? I'm a criminal to them. Couldn't stop to pick up a trade. They would have murdered my would-be master and I before I'd cast my first plough. All I can do is run and fight--or perhaps, now, stand and fight." He scratched the side of his head. "Perhaps even telling you this will be enough to put them back on my trail. I'm tired of running, anyway."

[Sav]

Seeing an opportunity to strike, Odhran immediately charged the Jarvah, aiming at his legs. He hoped that the blow would send him sprawling to the ground.

[The SheoDovah]

"Each to their own." Saroné stroked his chin and got off the barrel. "But it would be nice seeing our people become liberated and free to do whatever they want. If the women happen to be sexy and happen to want a handsome merchant in their arms, i'll be more then happy to take on that burden." Saroné told the Tallin. He felt the situation needed a bit of light hearted humour and knew that the whole rebellion thing would take up all of his time. He knew he could die fighting against the templars or worse, having another pair of robes get ruined by them.

[VirtualWeasel]

The Field
The empty field was dotted with the yellow flowers, between thick, tall green grasses. Aneira could spot at least 10 of them within countable distance.

The Lyrian Camp
The merchant chuckled with Baldric a bit, before stopping to speak. "A man who chooses freedom is the most honorable of all, no?" He put the hookah pipe up to his mouth once more, taking a slow, deep breath of smoke, and exhaling gently, so the smoke seemed to dance through the canine's teeth.

The Duel
Odhran's tackle threw the Black Axe Jarvah forward, as the Dunaan continued to roll under his legs and out of the way. He plunged face-first into the fallow ground beneath him, his back exposed. The Jarvah was in a minor state of shock, and only began to lift himself up slowly, but had trouble supporting his own weight. Try as he might, he could not stand now.
The crowd was ablaze with gasps of horror and surprise, as the Jarvah sat on the ground, looking shamed among his peers.

Saroné & The Crusader
The Tallin let out a hearty laugh. Although the situation was heavy, Saroné seemed to lighten the man's spirits quite a bit.
"I'll let you know when it's safe for you to pass through." He said, through a series of chuckles.