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GUARD TRAINING GROUNDS - MORNING
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Kira zips and flits around a suspended target, her tiny blade making quick slashes and jabs as she passes by. The target is no ordinary training dummy, but rather an over-ripe melon from the market, which has been helpfully put up in a rope harness by one of the guards for Kira to practice on. In the increasingly-skilled hands of the small moth, the small blade makes relatively easy
Kira work of the melon, making fragrant gashes and punctures in its thick skin.
Gareth moves around the training area, just kind of eying the guards as those coming in go about morning exercises. As he strides along, he runs his fingers through the fur atop his head and sighs, the barest wisp of foggy breath being whisked away into the slowly warming air. He follows the mist with his eyes for a moment, but they quickly fall upon Kira as she zips around a suspended melon, blade in hand. Curious, he tilts his head and watches from a respectful distance.
Kira is still clearly just learning the blade as much of her movement with it seems formulaic and a bit stiff. Her application of those movements and forms is good, though, soon enough causing enough damage to one side of the melon for the rope holding it to sink halfway into it and leave the fruit dangling rather precariously. At the sight of this, Kira flies back to a nearby table
Kira where a small cup of water sits. She takes a few sips as she catches her breath, her tiny heart still racing from the exercise.
Narrator: While at the training grounds herself, Lianne is more or less there as a spectator along the edge of the grounds. People watching, primarily. Seems she isn't the only one either, Gareth briefly catching her gaze here and there. If only because of their encounter two decades prior, Lianne hopes that Gareth might join in on the training himself. But for now, she'll just have to be satisfied by Kira's display on the mel
Gareth hums thoughtfully, intrigued by the mothgirl's desire to learn the ways of combat despite being a rather small and (to him) frail being. He strides forward a bit, waving as he draws closer to the table Kira's currently occupying. "Mornin', miss. Don't think I've seen ye around before durin' me wanderin' around this place."
Kira looks up from wiping the melon juice off of her blade with a bit of rag. "Ah, good morning. I don't believe I've seen you either, though I'm not about much in the daytime save when I practice here. Are you one of the day guards I haven't met yet?"
Gareth chuckles and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm just a traveler o' sorts, a bounty hunter by trade. Been spendin' a lot o' time in Respite lately, so I've been keepin' me skills sharp sparrin' with some o' the guards here and there."
Kira nods. "Ah, good. I don't think I'm ready to spar with a real opponent yet. I worry that I might hurt them..." She tucks her sword through a loop on her belt and flutters up to Gareth's eye level. "I'm Kira. I make sure the lamps stay lit at night. Of course the new generator makes that easy work, but I'm still there in case one goes out..."
Gareth dips his head, smiling a bit. "Pleasure to meet ye, Kira. Me name's Gareth." He flashes a bit of a lopsided grin, "And don't worry, I wasn't goin' to ask ye to spar with me. I think we might accidentally hurt each other if we're not careful, and I wouldn't want that happenin'."
Kira nods a bit. "Good. I'm pretty tired now anyway... Still learning... but getting better." She looks over at the defeated melon and gives a proud little grin.
Gareth likewise looks over at the slain melon and nods. "Aye, lass, improvement is always good to hear about. Even veteran fighters like meself still learn things every time we cross blades with folks."
Kira looks the wolf over more, noticing the weapons on his hips. "Ah... perhaps I should learn some sort of ranged weapon too? Though I don't know if they'd work at my size..."
Gareth tilts his head curiously as he looks back at Kira. A moment later, he pulls a pistol out of his waistband and examines it, comparing its size to Kira. "Well... there are some ranged weapons that could work regardless of size, but, uh... they've got their own problems ye'd have to learn to compensate fer."
Kira blinks. "Oh... aren't those loud?" She frowns at it. "And there's... what's it called? When it pushes you back as it shoots?"
Gareth nods as he stows his pistol back in his waistband alongside its mate. "Aye, guns are quite loud, almost like a peal o' thunder. Guns also kick back when fired, aye, and it's called 'recoil'. They pack a punch at range, but they take some trainin', or ye might hurt yerself or others without meanin' to."
Kira nods, then looks to the rapier-like blade on her hip. "Think I'll stick to this for now."
Gareth hums. "Mmh, wouldn't be a bad idea. Get comfortable with one weapon before tryin' to learn somethin' else."
Lianne Sparr has been slowly pacing around the edge of the training ground. She's worked her way to the edge closest to Kira and Gareth, in order to eavesdrop on the two a little bit easier.
Kira smiles. "I think so, yes..." She flutters back down to the table to get another drink of water. "So what's your work if not guarding?" she asks on her way there.
Gareth laughs a bit. "Bounty huntin', lass. Me partner and I will retrieve just about anythin' or anyone fer anybody if the price is right."
Kira cocks her head, not knowing the term. "Oh, so like the caravans that come to market?"
Gareth smiles a little awkwardly. "Eh... not quite, lass. Think o' it like guard work, but we're not tied to any one town. Sometimes, our targets can take us to other continents, even."
Kira nods slowly, understanding a bit more but still lacking much context. "Ah. Interesting. I've never been farther than Mean Peak... so not far at all."
Gareth smiles softly again. "Well, I imagine me partner and I are the first bounty hunters to show up, here. It's not the easiest job to get into, admittedly." He gives Kira a curious look, "So, I'm guessin' ye were born here in Respite Falls?"
Kira shakes her head. "Out by the mountains, in a grove of fruit trees. I came out of my cocoon at night, and the lights of the town attracted me."
Gareth raises his eyebrows. "Ah, I see, so not quite yer birthplace, but close to it. Definitely a home fer ye."
Kira nods. "I don't remember much about being a crawler... so most of my memories are from Respite, yes."
Gareth smiles a little more warmly. "I can see why ye'd want to help protect the place, then. If ye need any help with yer trainin' and I'm around, I could try and provide some advice and the like for ye, if ye like."
Kira flutters up from the table and smiles. "Ah, how nice. Thank you, Mister Gareth." She gives a little yawn. "But I think now it's about time for me to go home and sleep..."
Gareth glances up towards the sky, noting that it's getting rather late into the morning already. "Aye, I almost forgot yer kind is nocturnal. Well, it was a pleasure meetin' ye, Kira, and I look forward to seein' yer skills later on." He raises a hand and gives the moth a little wave, "Have yerself a good sleep, lass."
Kira waves back and smiles. "And you have a good day!" She flutters off into town and out of view.
Gareth chuckles a bit as he watches Kira flutter away, then turns to continue wandering the training grounds, only to blink upon seeing Lianne standing nearby. "Oh, mornin' to ye, Lianne. Recovered enough to take up some sparrin'?"
Narrator: Still watching from the sidelines, Lianne's gaze follows Kira until she is no longer able to. Then, her eyes lock with Gareth's, with a smile. "It would certainly do me well to stay in shape. Are you offering?" Lianne questions.
Gareth blinks, then smirks a little at the question. "Well, if ye feel up fer it, we could, sure. I was here to do much the same, but I think I've beaten on the guards enough fer the time bein'. I should give them a break."
Lianne Sparr gives a polite chuckle. "Come now, the guards can't be that bad. I think there's something deeper to it. Are you trying to test me?" She questions.
Gareth shakes his head. "Nah, not this time. Just offerin' a little spar if ye want it." He spends a moment stretching one of his shoulders, "The guards are good, aye, but they've got rigid styles. Too easy to trip them up, sometimes, and bounty huntin' is anythin' but rigid."
Lianne Sparr: "Of course, of course." Lianne concedes, though doesn't seem convinced. "Very well, Gareth. I accept." Lianne swings herself over the barrier into the training grounds proper. She's still rather ornamentally dressed much like from the Thirsty Minnow a few nights prior. Either she's confident her clothes won't get roughed up, or she legitimately does not care for them. "I doubt this place has my kind of weapon in practice form?" Lianne asks.
Gareth nods over at a rack of wooden weapons near the edge of the arena. "They've got a bunch o' different weapon types we can bop each other with, but not everythin', if we're usin' more exotic stuff. Else, they've got protective material fer edges and points so we don't draw blood usin' our own weapons. Yer preference, Lianne."
Lianne Sparr: "Quite. I'd prefer to use my own, of course, as I'm sure you would as well." Lianne nods, pulling out her pair of ornamental gold sai. She moves to cork the tips of the two of them.
Gareth chuckles and nods again as he climbs over the barrier into the arena. He takes a few moments to add a protective edging to his own cutlass. "Aye. The wood swords and such are nice enough, but nothin' quite matches the balance o' me own cutlass."
Narrator: With protected weapons, Lianne moves to take space in the arena with Gareth. "Ready?" She questions. If and when Gareth is ready, she offers him a very formal bow, arms and hands tucked by her sides. Then, she enters a combative stance. Low to the ground, arms criss-crossed with sai in reverse grip. With a small smirk, Lianne uses her expression alone to dare Gareth to make the first move.
Gareth smiles and dips into a formal bow as well, something he definitely wouldn't have offered the last time they'd crossed blades. A few moments later, he kneels and takes a moment to pull out a parrying dagger from a hidden sheath on his left leg. He continues to smile as he straightens up again and settles into a casual ready pose. "Aye, ready."
Lianne Sparr is taking the brief moment to size Gareth up. From his stance, to how he holds his weapons. Then, given that Gareth has not advanced, she decides to initiate. She strides forward, entering the reach of Gareth's cutlass, attempting to bait out a response.
Gareth starts to back away and move to the side as Lianne approaches, keeping her at the extreme edge of his reach while staying out of her reach. He can't help but smirk at her trying to bait him. "Let's just say this blinded eye taught me a thing or two about makin' the first move, lass."
Lianne Sparr: "Quite alright, my dear." Lianne responds in kind. She moves in again, intent on closing the gap more aggressively now. She takes a strike at Gareth's hand holding the parrying dagger with one sai, keeping the other poised to catch Gareth's cutlass if need be.
Gareth sees the attack coming and shifts his hand in response, catching Lianne's sai against his dagger. He gives his dagger a little twist, locking their weapons in place as he takes a swing at Lianne with his cutlass, aiming at her midsection.
Narrator: Predictably, Lianne moves her other sai to catch Gareth's cutlass, sliding her sai down it's edge to meet it at the crossguard. With both of their weapons locked for now, she attempts to push down on Gareth's weapons, intentionally trying to force his cutlass into the ground and his parrying dagger away. While presumably not as strong as Gareth, her better leverage should prove helpful.
Narrator: If she is successful, she removes her sai from Gareth's cutlass quickly, keeping her other sai against Gareth's dagger, and attempts to strike at him. If she is unsuccessful, she instead attempts to strike her knee into Gareth's stomach.
Gareth manages to hold steady against the pushing, his strength at least partially overcoming Lianne's better leverage for a few seconds. However, as he feels himself losing ground, instead of letting Lianne push his cutlass away, he swings it backwards, releasing early and stepping to the side in an effort to avoid her follow-up strike.
Lianne Sparr's strike barely misses. With Gareth's parrying dagger still caught up in her other sai and a very brief opening available, she quickly retasks her pommel to bash against Gareth's hand while simultaneously twisting on her sai further, attempting to disarm Gareth of his parrying dagger. While doing so, she circles herself away from Gareth's cutlass side, to buy her more time from any potential cutlass based reta
Gareth notices the strike to his dagger hand just a moment too late. His hand is moving away as the pommel of her sai connects, so he doesn't drop his dagger, but she does manage to accomplish getting her other sai free from their blade lock. He leaps back as his dagger comes free, disengaging rather than pushing further in, but also wasting any attack opportunities he might have had.
Lianne Sparr doesn't let Gareth get far away, keeping pace with his disengagement. She wants to keep Gareth off balance and stop him from fully resetting the situation. To that end, she attempts to punch Gareth, such that she is able to quickly reposition her sai if need be to Gareth's parrying dagger. Her other sai waits in reserve for the cutlass once more.
Gareth braces as Lianne tries to chase him backwards, then launches himself sideways as she tries to punch him. Her fist catches the edge of his jacket as he moves, but it's otherwise a clean miss. Once he's off to the side, he leaps forward, aiming a slash at her wing.
Narrator: Smart. Attacking her rear, where her wings are much more of a nuisance, and a large target at that. She's forced to pull her wings in close to her body such that any vertical strike misses, while her other sai pokes out prepared to deflect a horizontal slide. That tail of hers flicks up as if to threaten to strike, though it hesitates before doing so. If not for the parameters of 'friendly sparring', Gareth gets the feeling that in an alternate universe, he just got severely stung. Lianne twists herself away as necessary to reset the situation for herself, or at the very least, be facing Gareth again.
Gareth misses his vertical strike, but hesitates to press his advantage when he sees Lianne's tail moving, extremely wary of the sting he knows is concealed within it. As she disengages, he breaks off and settles back into a proper ready position. He laughs a bit. "Glad to see we're more evenly matched than before. I'd hate to have given ye a poor showin' after almost twenty years."
Lianne Sparr enters her stance properly again, though takes the moment to banter with Gareth. "I'm glad. I would feel humiliated if a less capable person survived." She smirks.
Gareth rolls his shoulders a bit again as he readies up for another clash. "Well, lucky fer ye that I'm a stubborn one, aye?" He smiles, then surges forward with a sudden burst of speed, intending to close the gap before Lianne can bring up her defenses.
Lianne Sparr: "Lucky indeed." Lianne offers. She already has her guard up, prepared to catch any potential attack between her sai.
Gareth takes a heavy vertical swing with his cutlass, hoping to break Lianne's guard through momentum and sheer force as the gap between them closes. He keeps his dagger in reserve, preparing to catch any counterattacks Lianne may attempt instead of guarding.
Lianne Sparr's resolve appears fierce, if nothing else. She prepares her right hand sai to catch Gareth's cutlass, though it's a complete farce. She twists herself around Gareth's right side, away from his parrying dagger posing any potential threat. Her right arm and accompanying sai are dragged to the ground with the cutlass. She twists the sai around Gareth's cutlass once it hits the ground and there is no more force.
Narrator: At this point, she moves her sai down the length of Gareth's blade, to his crossguard, pressing down hard. She's forcing Gareth to be unable to directly lift the blade, instead forced to pull it backwards, though her left sai approaching won't give him the time to do that, intending to skewer Gareth's right wrist and threatening to lock it to the ground in her sai's guard too. Lastly, a knee to Gareth's right wrist. She really, really doesn't want him keeping that cutlass, attempting to disarm him with a gambit as multi-pronged as her weapons are.
Gareth finds himself forced into an awkward half-kneeling position as his cutlass is forced towards the ground. Instead of leaving himself open for a stab, he swings his parrying dagger around over his exposed wrist, intending to deflect Lianne's sai as it streaks towards his hand. With a grunt and bit of a growl, he jerks his wrist free from Lianne's knee and moves to disengage again, leaving his cutlass on the ground for the time being.
Lianne Sparr lets Gareth disengage, now having ownership over his cutlass, which she promptly kicks as far away as she can behind her. "Hope you've got another blade on you." Lianne playfully taunts. "But if you don't, I'll be a proper lady and fight you with only one blade of my own."
Gareth laughs as he deftly flips his parrying dagger to his dominant hand and settles into something of a conventional boxing pose, clearly ready to tangle as he bounces on his toes. "Noble of ye, Lianne, I just hope ye don't mind a bit o' fisticuffs mixed in, now." He grins, clearly enjoying the teasing banter, "Dirty fightin' isn't somethin' easily forgotten, ye know."
Lianne Sparr uncorks her sai, such that she's able to strap it back under her dress against her leg. Her remaining sai is in her left hand, intentionally - To get Gareth to question which of Lianne's hands is her dominant one. She holds it in a forward grip now. Right empty hand in front, left sai hand in reserve. "Certainly not." She smiles, stepping forth towards Gareth, keeping that cutlass behind her in mind in her positioning.
Gareth keeps his left hand up in a defensive posture as he watches Lianne, his eyes scanning her entire figure as he tries to spot any indication of where she's intending to attack. He doesn't really question which hand is her dominant one, however, as he just assumes she's just as effective with one as the other. He laughs quietly as he starts to sidle forward as well. "Heh, good."
Narrator: With an open palm, Lianne reaches forward to try and palm strike Gareth. A bold extension, though she keeps her sai trained in reserve specifically for any potential counter-attack from Gareth's dagger. If he tries to use it, the sai will be there a moment later to intercept or deflect it.
Gareth 's free hand moves to intercept the palm strike, his fingers wrapping rather firmly around her hand. With a deft little twist, he rotates her arm so her palm is aiming up, then tries to do a quick jab with his dagger.
Lianne Sparr's partially webbed hand locks in with Gareth's. Despite the strength difference, it's as if Lianne is totally fine with this having happened. The twist hurts, Lianne grunting, though she doesn't yield. Still, her exposed wing makes for a rather large target. Her sai intercepts the dagger as it has done several times before.
Lianne Sparr twists her sai's guard around the dagger, into a reverse grip as she does so, such that she can pull instead of push the dagger off to the side and down toward the ground. If Lianne is successful in pulling Gareth's dagger for juuuust long enough, she then launches herself forward at Gareth, not to knee-strike him, but to gymnastically plant one foot on his chest and use their locked hands as leverage to front-flip over him, forcing Gareth to either overpower Lianne's grip to let go, or have his arm twisted behind his back by the time Lianne lands.
Gareth finds himself stumbling forward a bit from the unexpected pull, only to get the wind knocked out of him as Lianne plants her foot against his chest. His grip slackens, but not completely releasing her hand as she leaps up and over. He realizes a moment too late that she's gotten the upper hand on him, and he starts trying to twist around again just as he feels his arm press against his back.
Narrator: Successful in her acrobatic maneuver, Lianne twists Gareth's arm up against his back, as painfully as she can manage. Trying to prevent Gareth from twisting around fully, she follows Gareth's movement as closely as possible with her own. Additionally, she drops her sai, letting it fall to the ground, her left hand and accompanying wing wrapping Gareth's front in an embrace. She attempts to latch her hand onto Gareth's wrist to restrict Gareth's movement further, pushing his hand up against his chest if she's successful and if Gareth lacks the strength to resist because of the pain from his other twisted arm.
Gareth grunts in pain as his arm's forced against his back, but he does power through it for a short bit as he tries to outmaneuver Lianne. He's very clearly at a disadvantage in maneuvering, however, as each movement results in his trapped arm being pressed more firmly against his back. He tries to flip his dagger around into a reverse grip in order to swing it around in one last defiant stab, but his wrist smacks against her open hand, getting trapped as it stabs at thin air. He resists the movement for a few seconds, before his arm gets pinned against his front, leaving him well and truly stuck. "Rrrgh... damn..."
Narrator: With that, Lianne presses her body up firmly against Gareth's in order to keep that arm of his behind his back. She then lets go of his right hand, reaching down the side of her dress to draw her uncorked, live sai she stowed earlier. She reaches around the front with her now sai-wielding right hand, both arms and wings wrapped around him fully now. The point of her sai rests itself lightly on Gareth's neck.
Gareth continues trying to break the grapple even as he's slowly wrapped in Lianne's embrace, his arms moving as best as they can, trapped as they are, though he doesn't manage much at all in the way of escaping. His struggles slow to a stop as the sharp point of her sai comes to a rest against his neck, but he doesn't seem all that worried at all. "Heh... guess ye still outmatch me in the end."
Lianne Sparr: "It would seem that way." Lianne whispers, the smirk across her face audible in her tone. She straightens her posture as much as possible and then stands right up on her tippy-toes. Gareth could easily push her backwards at this point to force Lianne to stumble, though if he doesn't, Lianne would lean her face over Gareth's shoulder and give him a kiss on the side of his face.
Gareth knows better than to move when there's a point of a very sharp weapon pressed against his neck, even if he could take the opening to try and push off, since all it'd take is just a quick prod to drop him permanently. He blinks in confusion, looking to the side without turning his head upon feeling the kiss. "Well... wasn't expectin' that as a consolation prize fer losin' the match..."
Lianne Sparr: "Why ask, when I can take?" Lianne responds. "Though our reunion has been brief, you have a charm about you. One that I find immediately enchanting."
Gareth laughs a bit, though he remains stock-still. "Fair enough. I guess we both know somethin' about takin' without permission, aye?" He chuckles, turning his head just a touch, "And 'enchantin'', hm? Yer just tryin' to sweet-talk me, aren't ye?"
Lianne Sparr: "Sweet talk is for a mark, Gareth." Lianne coos, letting Gareth come to his own conclusion.
Gareth mulls it over in his head for a few moments, then blinks and does indeed come to a conclusion. "W-wait... yer serious?" He pauses, "That's surprisin', considerin', but... not at all unwelcome."
Lianne Sparr: "Serious enough to suggest that you ask me out to dinner." Lianne suggests. Suggestively.
Gareth pauses again, smirking a little at the tone. "Well, we can arrange that, Lianne. If yer settin' me up as a mark, yer doin' a great job o' it." He smiles a little more brightly, "Want to get somethin' fer dinner later this afternoon?"
Lianne Sparr: "I try my best." Lianne gives an amused huff. With the offer of dinner, Lianne releases Gareth. "Why thank you, Gareth. I would love to join you for dinner." Her smirk grows. She picks up her sai on the ground, uncorks it and straps them both back to her inner thighs.
Gareth steps away from Lianne as she lets him go, then rolls his shoulders to work the kinks out from their extended grapple. Once the burning has subsided, he stows his dagger back in its sheath then goes to pick up his cutlass, which he removes the edge guard from and then sheathes in its scabbard. "Any preferences for where we'll go? If not, we could maybe take somethin' at the Minnow."
Lianne Sparr: "Surprise me, Gareth." Lianne responds. It's less that she doesn't care about what she eats, and more that the location choice will tell her more about Gareth.
Gareth chuckles and nods as he moves back towards Lianne again. "Then I'll go and give it some thought. I'll meet up with ye at the Minnow and then I'll take ye where I decide."
Lianne Sparr: "Excellent." Lianne smiles. "I look forward to it. For now, however, I shall bid you farewell." She bows.
Gareth smiles in turn and likewise bows. "Then I'll see ye this evenin', Lianne. Thank ye kindly fer the sparrin' match."
Lianne Sparr: "My pleasure, Gareth."
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BEYOND THE NORTH GATE - AFTERNOON
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Bracvar grunts quietly as his cart bounces along up the hill, the poor vehicle protesting under the added weight he's dragging along up the winding path. The front quarter of his cart is still full of ice and fresh, slightly frozen fish, but the rest is instead dedicated to re-sealed crates of heavy steel and copper pieces to a puzzle a certain stoat has been building, as well as a few other goods the crab had picked up in that uncommon trip to Orela.
Rhask rides along on the seat usually reserved for the wagon's driver, but with Bracvar being strong enough to drive the cart himself, she'd taken the offered seat just so she could see where exactly she's opted to travel and how they get there. She's bundled cozily in some thick, colorful clothing, her entire body covered save for her scaly Lizard head and most of her long tail.
Bracvar digs into the trail, leaning into the bar until they clear a rough slope after a few seconds of bouncing. He chuckles to himself as he straightens up a bit. "Apologies, seems there was a bit of wash out, miss Rhask." Though he's perhaps a little more sorry to his poor cargo for the jostling than his passenger, at least the expression is in his voice.
Rhask chuckles quietly as she casts a glance over the side of the wagon as Bracvar pulls it through the slope, though she does take a moment to adjust the shoulder wrap of her outfit for a moment, making sure it's secure. "It's fine, mister Bracvar. After weeks at sea, those little bumps just now were no problem."
Bracvar chuckles more openly, nodding, though his back shell would hide the gesture. "Aye, I suppose that would be true! I suppose the hike would be a bit much if'n yer sea legs hadn't gone yet, either, hm? Though this has been a fair trip, I think one o'the shortest within the year."
Rhask nods. "Yes, I could barely balance when I first got off of that ship from Vamas, but these few days we've spent traveling this way have helped me recover." She blinks, tilting her head slightly, "How long does this trip usually take?"
Bracvar hums, shrugging. "Sometimes just o'er a week, but we're settin' a good pace every day." He pauses to adjust his grip on the push bar to be able to turn a bit and speak more clearly to Rhask. "We're looking at what... Three nights? An' this is the last leg."
Rhask smiles a bit as she listens to Bracvar's speech, just enjoying the unusual accent he has, since it's nothing quite like the speech she's heard spoken around her hometown. "About three nights, I think. Do you know why this trip has gone so smoothly, though, if we're arriving so quickly?"
Bracvar grins giving a half hearted shrug. "Could be some old crab booked a smaller caravan fer getting precious cargo to town quicker. Near a dozen guards is a bit much for three carts of trade goods... Yer not too familiar with the area, are yeh?"
Rhask shakes her head. "No, I've never been this way before. I've never even been outside of Vamas until this trip."
Bracvar nods, turning forward again to keep the cart from finding any more nasty ruts. "That would certainly explain yer choices in fashion, miss. I don't know about you, but yeh'd never catch me wearing somethin' like that in Respite's weather. Going to be a bit of a shift from what yer used to in Vamas."
Rhask shrugs a little as she lifts a hand to once again adjust her shoulder wrap. "Maybe... I'll likely have to wear something at least a little lighter, here, but some of my clothing is... comforting. I'll tolerate the warmth if I have to."
Bracvar chuckles again, nodding. "I can understand that, fer sure. Well, relatively. Us crabs don't take too well to yer clothin' styles. Even had somethin' made special once, but we need too much range to move, yeh know?" He shakes his head a bit. "Ah, I digress. Respite can get hot, aye, but it's also so dry."
Rhask chuckles quietly. "Believe it or not, Vamas is similar, once you start going further inland. It can get so cold that the moisture in the air just... turns to snow. I'm used to dry air, just cold, not hot."
Bracvar laughs, nodding. "Fair enough, lass, yeh've got me there! So what brings yeh all the way out to this little piece o' frontier, anyway? I mean, if'n it's such a change."
Rhask hums thoughtfully, then shrugs. "I wanted to see places outside of Vamas. The place I'm from, we're far from Westport, but Glacier Bay is a font of news from areas on the other side of the mountain range."
Bracvar nods along, steering the cart around a fallen trunk. He seems calm despite passing a few guards hanging out near the trunk, knuckles white gripping their crossbows as they each scan the treeline. "Well yeh certainly know how to pick a place teh visit. Most who drop into this here town end up staying on a more permanent way, though."
Rhask curiously watches the guards for a few moments as the wagon passes them, but she tilts her head again as she shifts her gaze back to Bracvar. "Oh? Why is that?"
Bracvar hums, considering it for a few moments. "Well, that may be a bit of a weighted claim, thinkin bout it. I s'pose it depends. Frontier towns seem to attract a lot o'those that don't much intend on goin back in the first place." He turns to look past his shell at her, clearly smiling reassurance. "It really is a nice town, though."
Rhask laughs quietly. "Well, if I happen to become another such settler, it wouldn't be a bad thing... I trust that it's not quite as rough and tumble as some folks say it is back in Vamas?"
Bracvar shakes his head shortly. "No, not so much. Yeh've come well after it's built up, an' merchants like me keep bringing luxury goods fer yer enjoyment." He chuckles to himself, shrugging. "Respite is even less dangerous in my own experience than some bigger cities, as long as yeh aren't bein' rough and tumbling about with the critters beyond the wall."
Rhask shakes her head in turn. "If it's anything like the Vamese wilderness, I think it's best that I stay within the town's walls. The guards must do a good job of keeping the area around the town safe, if it's building up nicely."
Bracvar nods. "Aye, they do well in that regard. If anything, the guard numbers might even seem a bit high to what yer used to, but that's not really a problem, per se." He glances over his shoulder as trotting boots approach the cart from the rear, seeing the two trailing guards finally catching up.
Rhask hums softly. "True, I imagine it makes things safer, at least, having such a strong guard presence out here." She looks over her shoulder at the guards for a moment, then back at Bracvar, "Especially if they can afford to put guards out as caravan escorts..."
Bracvar nods, waiting until they've crested over their current slope before replying. "Some, aye. Some of these fine folks are from the Explorer's Guild, or Bairnell's Foothold's guard. An excuse to send quiet messages back and forth between the three groups, I figure."
Rhask nods as she sits up a little straighter in her seat, trying to get a look at what lies ahead of them over the crest of the slope. "About as efficient as one can get, I guess... Personal delivery rather than letters would be a bit more secure, this way."
Bracvar slows his pace briefly to take a bit of breath, his grin evident in his voice as he's finally able to ease up on the effort over flatter ground. The forest to their left shrinks away along the road, eventually revealing farm fields and a walled town in the distance. "Heh, was just the speculations of an old crab, but yeh have a point there. Ride's almost over, if'n yeh take a look ahead, miss Rhask."
Rhask 's eyes scan the farmland in the distance, along with the view of the town as the wagon leaves the cover of the forest behind. "Wow... for a frontier town, this is a lot more settled than I imagined it to be."
Bracvar laughs a bit, nodding. "Aye, they're likely on the edge of that description. I don't know if'n yer view's better than mine, but on the other side from us is desert and scrub, much less pleasant than this little bit of forest."
Rhask balances herself with her tail as she stands up a bit and uses a hand to shade her eyes as she tries to peer further out. After a few seconds, she shakes her head and sits back down. "I'm afraid I can't see much beyond the town, so I'll take your word for it, mister Bracvar."
Bracvar grins, picking up the pace to match the two carts ahead of theirs. "If it weren't fer my word, I wouldn't be worth much. D'yeh have something lined up fer a place to stay already?"
Rhask shakes her head again, but smiles. "I don't, no. I was thinking of searching for an inn for however long I stay here in Respite. Do you have any recommendations?"
Bracvar nods, shifting to push the cart with one arm, and then the other as he stretches the stiffness out of his joints. "Nearest one to the gate we'll be going through is the Thirsty Minnow. Probably the nicest I know in town, certainly my preferred roost."
Rhask adjusts herself in her seat for a moment. "The Thirsty Minnow? I'll be sure to give it a look, if you think that highly of it." She tilts her head when she notices Bracvar stretching a bit, "Oh, uh... want me to come down from here to lessen the weight a bit?"
Bracvar laughs, shaking his head. "No, yer alright up there if yeh prefer to ride. Would be uncouth of me to ask, and we're done the hard bits already. Beside that, I don't think yer adding much compared to the rest."
Rhask blinks, glancing back at the wagon's contents, or at least what she can see from her seat, then chuckles and nods. "Fair enough... I guess a single Lizard hardly compares to the stacks of metal parts you've got back there. But still... if you need me to climb down, I don't mind."
Bracvar chuckles, nodding. "Well, I wouldn't argue if'n yeh need to stretch yer legs a bit."
Rhask smiles softly and stands up. Without missing a beat, she deftly jumps down from the wagon's seat and lands off to the side, her knees bent to absorb the shock. After a moment, she stands up and strides alongside Bracvar. "I probably shouldn't get too comfortable, since I've been riding for most of the trip, so far."
Bracvar grins, nodding. "As yeh wish, miss. Thank you fer yer consideration! So if'n you don't mind me asking, what kept you busy back in Vamas?"
Rhask shakes her head a bit. "Not much, I'm afraid to say. Before I left, I was, uh... maybe just a little sheltered. I did what I could, but..."
Bracvar looks to her now that it's easy to do, shrugging. "Nothing wrong with that, can't blame someone fer what they're born into, just how they treat their fellows. So far, yeh've treated me kindly." He gives her a smile, which only really shows at the corner of his uncovered eye.
Rhask smiles a little more brightly. "Well, you've been nothing but kind to me even though I'm just a passenger. I've no reason to treat you any way else."
Bracvar chuckles as he turns forward again, keeping an eye on the pace of the caravan. "Well of course, what good comes of not treatin' folks kindly? Of the places I've been, I think you'll fit in pretty well around Respite, a lot of good folks here."
Rhask nods happily as she matches Bracvar's pace. "I hope so. It'll be nice to see what the town is like, and hopefully it'll make my travels worth it."
Bracvar: "If yeh need a guide that may be a bit familiar, though yeh don't seem the shy type to me, there's a lizard guard I know well, might be happy to give you some good directions."
Rhask hums thoughtfully. "A little extra guidance might not be a bad idea... At least I won't have to worry about getting lost around town, that way."
Bracvar nods, though he chuckles after a few seconds of silence. "I mean... It's not that big of a town. The 'falls' in it's name aren't even in the wall. I'll point out the path to them, actually, when we come to it. Some visitors apparently never get to seein' them, which is a shame."
Rhask blinks and tilts her head. "I'll have to give that place a look too, once I settle in for however long I mean to stay. It sounds like a nice spot."
Bracvar shrugs. "It is, especially fer seabound types like meself."
Rhask smiles again. "Then maybe I'll pay the spot a visit later on. Are you sure you're not a guide yourself, mister Bracvar?"
Bracvar laughs, glancing toward the lizard with a tilted nod. "Aye, I could be if one is willing teh hire me! Fifteen years of comin this way fer trade, I've picked up on some of the missed tourist points, I suppose."
Rhask chuckles. "Then I guess between you and this other Lizard you mentioned, I'll know the town like the scales on the back of my hand before long."
Bracvar: "Hopefully it suits you as well as yer own scales, as well!"
Rhask smiles. "We'll see soon enough, mister Bracvar, I'm sure."
Bracvar nods, smiling as he turns forward again. Some small talk later, the caravan reaches the North Gate, leaving the two to part ways as Rhask reaches her new destination and the crab makes good on his contract to Maybelline.
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THE THIRSTY MINNOW, EARLY EVENING
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Elizabeth is sitting at a table, the a-lot-younger-than-last-week skunk lady definitely not on her first glass of wine for the night. She's dressed in one of her better dresses, finding herself staring into nothingness a lot lately as she tries to deal with the shock. Absently, she lifts her glass in her magic - or rather, attempts to, then has to remind herself that the glass is not in fact moving one iota like that anymore. Sighing, she picks the glass in her hand, frowning at the taste of already-warmed white wine but nothing she can do about that either.
Tarbin pats the doorframe at the entrance as he steps into the dimly lit bar, though he's already become fairly accustomed to where the tables are, and the barkeep had graciously made the main aisle to between the stairs and entrance a little more clear. Instead of heading up to his room, the lizard hobbles on his cane to the bar, settling with a sigh onto the first stool he bumps into. He looks to his left after a moment, smiling at the person-shaped blur seated nearby. "Evening friend."
Elizabeth slowly wakes from her self-inflicted stupor, returning to the present instead of mistakes already committed: "O-oh. Hey... oh, hello. N-nice to see you again." She sounds somehow less world-weary and more so, at the same time.
Tarbin nods, his smile faltering slightly. After a moment of thinking, he tilts his head slightly. "I... Am terribly sorry, your voice is familiar... But I can't quite connect it. We did meet, yes?"
Elizabeth nods, looking at the lizard that's pretty hard to mistake: "Y-yeah... at the Clinic, we discussed magic for a long time." She swallows: "...I did perhaps look a bit different then." She then mentally facepalms when she recalls exactly how well Tarbin would be able to tell any visual difference.
Tarbin chuckles quietly, shrugging. "I would not know, I think. My sight is quite poor. But yes, I certainly recall you now!" He gives her a polite bow, grinning as he comes back up to sitting straight. "I think I hear a difference in your voice, though. Not unhealthy, is a good change, perhaps? A new incantation?"
Elizabeth winces again, doing a brief mental fight with herself as to how to explain the situation: "I uh..." She traces the edge of her wine glass with a finger, thinking: "...had some of my aging undone." She isn't entirely sure if it is actually so, but probably close enough to the truth.
Tarbin blinks, a lot of good that does him, then nods slightly. "That is not a bad thing, something many would pay a lot for... If perhaps a little against the flow of Nature." He chuckles once quietly, leaning toward Elizabeth and lowering his voice. "I know how Nature allows it to happen, but your magic is not the same... How did you do it?"
Elizabeth sighs, leaning back on her chair: "Honestly? I am not sure. I certainly wasn't aiming to do this."
Tarbin tilts his head a bit again, straightening up as his tails curl around the legs of his stool. "Oh, I am sorry, I thought it was your goal. Well of all the er... [unintended outcomes... Side effects.] Ah... do not know how to say it in Common. Wrong answers? Losing a few years doesn't seem very bad."
Elizabeth sighs again, looking down at the table as though it contains answers or was the guilty party here: "No, but... it isn't all." Her voice goes very quiet: "...Promise me you will not talk?"
Tarbin hears the tone of her voice, the last hint of his grin slipping away as the lizard moves to the stool directly next to her, nodding. "Of course, I am not one to gossip."
Elizabeth nods, blushing slightly. Her voice is tired, defeated even: "I... I lost all my magic, as well."
Tarbin pauses, turning to face straight across the bar for a few moments as he processes this news. He blinks, turning to her and wondering if something was lost in translation, keeping his voice low. "Your magic is gone? What? How?"
Elizabeth sighs, leaning her chin on her hands, trying to hold herself together: "Gone. I can not even lift a pebble of sand, now."
Tarbin drums his fingertips on the counter for a moment, still looking at Elizabeth, concern clear in his expression and tone. "Are you certain? I have rarely heard of a person losing everything completely..." He shakes his head slightly, thinking. "Perhaps there is a text? Someone must know."
Elizabeth shrugs, frowning: "I knew going in that charging a generator would drain me, but... not this much. Not... completely."
Tarbin pauses, his expression becoming colder, looking a little less directly at Elizabeth's blur. "The generator... Respite has large magitech? They make you charge? You let them steal your power?"
Elizabeth bristles slightly at this, not liking the tone: "I volunteered."
Tarbin shakes his head slightly, the ends of his tails twitching in his agitation, not that his voice hides it. "Foolish, magitech such as that is against Nature, is against Magic. Sharing our gift does not mean we have to hand over our bonds."
Elizabeth frowns, looking at Tarbin: "Against Nature or not, it's what keeps us alive in this desert dead-end." She lets out an agitated growl: "Would I rather I'd still have my magic? Yes. Do I regret doing it? No." She blinks and sits straighter, surprising herself as she realizes she means those words.
Tarbin growls in turn, his fingers curling as his twin tails grips the stool legs beneath him. "A fool's words and a fool's reason! You say you offered your magic, but now have nothing left! They say for little and take all, does not matter, a fool will believe, will give everything..." Voice faltering as his balled fist shakes on the counter top, Tarbin turns to face forward again. "Does not matter where, always one fool."
Elizabeth listens to Tarbin rant, then just rolls her eyes: "I've been a fool, an idiot, for a grand part of my life so far. If I have to be a fool once more to do something right, then so be it."
Tarbin scowls, glaring across the counter top for a few silent minutes, grunting before he speaks again. "You think you do good, what good does magitech do here that we can not?"
Elizabeth frowns, then glances around the noticeably non-dark bar room: "Light up this room with no fire hazard..." She smirks slightly at her own comment, though.
Tarbin huffs, calming slightly as Elizabeth's tone betrays her expression. "You should not have lost your bond for some light..." He sighs, the fight leaving him for the moment. "Perhaps difference in culture. It is wrong, but perhaps only to me. You think you did a good thing." He leans back a bit on his stool, looking toward Elizabeth again. "Perhaps is enough."
Elizabeth sighs, looking aside: "What's done is done. I've spent enough time in my life pining about the past to realize I'm not getting to re-do any of those decisions."
Tarbin turns his hand over, opening his fist. He looks at his palm, shaking his head slightly. "I can help Nature mend, but magic... Is beside Nature. Beyond it. Can see it, like with yours, but not reach. I am sorry, I don't know if I can help that way."
Elizabeth nods, looking down at the table again: "I understand. This is my... burden to bear, as the saying goes. I did this all myself."
Tarbin chuckles dryly, pulling his arm in to lean both elbows on the counter top. "Stronger for bearing it, in the end. A test of your bond, maybe you will get more for the time without." Shrugging, Tarbin stands from his stool. "I hope, anyways, I looked forward to having someone else that understands."
Elizabeth gives Tarbin an odd look: "I've been without magic for literally days. I had it for over six decades. I think I can still understand."
Tarbin blinks at her, noting her tone rather than expression. "You made the decision I refused, one I lost my vision for, and received exile for, and... No, I do not think we understand eachother as well as I would have hoped."
Elizabeth shrugs slightly, taking a sip of her near-forgotten wine: "I've made my own decisions, you yours. I've already been exiled once, I do not intend to repeat that mistake."
Tarbin picks up his cane, leaning on it and reliving his left leg. "Our exiles are not equal." He sighs, closing his eyes for a few moments. "I am sorry for being poor company, I'll leave you be."
Elizabeth frowns at Tarbin, but rather pointedly does not disagree with his notion.
Tarbin nods toward her blur wordlessly, limping toward the stairs to the rented room for the night.
Elizabeth looks at Tarbin go... and motions herself another glass of wine, sighing slightly.
Tarbin ascends to his room, dropping the cane and sitting on the edge of his bed, much to contemplate now. His vague hope that Elizabeth might be a solution to his curse dashed for now.