Roht Mirage
10-22-13, 11:36 AM
Kale rapped on the back of the huge enforcer's armor. "You sent for me?" he asked, too out of breath to make it sound like a question. He put his hands on his knees to anchor himself while air violently returned to his body. As an errand boy in Ixian Castle, he had been able to get all the best seats for the matches, and nearly without disturbance. Once the blood started flying, no one sent for anything. However, with the second round long over, he was reminded in excruciating detail that he had a job to do.
The enforcer turned, preemptively ending a conversation with another armored man. "Shopping trip," he rumbled from the depths of his helmet. He handed the boy a piece of paper and a bag of coins.
"Roht Mirage," Kale read aloud, processing it for a moment before turning red in the face. "One of her little shit kids took my gold! You guys better shake it out of him."
The enforcer squared his already-impossibly-squared shoulders, every line of his frame saying, "You are in no position to make demands." Yet, what came out of his mouth was nothing but soft-edged professionalism. "She and her entourage have been taken into custody. We will attempt to return all the stolen goods. Unfortunately, we are short on time, and if her funds were to come back lighter than expected," he gestured to the bag, "there would likely be no one available to verify the receipt." There might have been a wink behind the visor.
"You mean... oh. Ho ho ho. Gotcha," Kale tapped his knuckles companionable against the man's broad chest plate, "Our secret." The helmet scraped with a wary shake of the head, and a sigh crept quietly out. Kale turned to go, but froze on his first step. "I'm not complaining," he said, twisting back halfway, "But why am I running errands for her?"
The enforcer shrugged like a mountain shaking off its hat of snow, "She said she needed it for the final round."
Kale's jaw dropped. "Roht? Roht Mirage?"
"Yes."
"Sand girl. Gets thrown around like a toy."
"I've heard."
"She advanced?"
Another shrug. "Apparently."
"Bloody hell," Kale snapped in a voice that carried far down the hall, "Is the mute going blind now?"
The enforcer snapped up a warning hand and spoke with unnatural caution. "I don't know, but his ears are still damn good, kid. Just go. I need to busy myself before they pick me to babysit those little monsters."
Kale looked up and down the hall, gave the enforcer a sheepish nod, then sprinted off.
~
Breathless again, Kale arrived in the central hall of Ixian Castle. It didn't look like it, though. The place was packed with people squawking to find out where the final round would be held, which yielded no answers as of yet. Thankfully, there was much to distract them. A large assortment of merchants had set up stalls from end to end, stretching like long centipedes, its thousand legs lunging out to snatch coins and toss out trinkets and memorabilia. Kale tried to ignore them as he wriggled his way through the crowd, though one particular stall caught his eye. A brightly-shrouded man sat amid bottles of dried and powdered orc testicle (for virility), unicorn horn fragments (for insight), and vials of ice wraith tears (for Thanes-know-what). His newest treasure, he held aloft in a jar that still had wet blood around the seal.
"Pieces of the Abomination," he crowed, "Unleash the monster within!"
Kale paled and tried to continue on. He caught a whiff of something delicious, though, and turned to see the flesh-hawker's next door neighbor. A burly dwarf had set up both a stew pot and a bed of coals. The stew smelled delicious, and the chunks of meat over the coals were searing just perfectly. Kale tested the weight of Roht Mirage's coin pouch. She owes me a meal, at least, he reasoned. But, as he drew closer, he recognized the cut of the meat. It was just like....
He looked back to the Abomination flesh held high. Don't want to know. Really don't want to know. He scurried on his way before the contents of his stomach could get ahead of him.
~
Finally, Kale tracked down an appropriate stall. Maps coated the back wall of it, making each featured location look far more vibrant than it likely would in person. He squeezed through a wall of bodies to sandwich himself against the stall's cluttered table, causing compasses and myriad other survival supplies to jostle around. Reeling, he slapped the note down on the table, not so much to be rude, but to keep from toppling over it.
"Um...," he began, meeting the eyes of a seasoned adventurer who held the other end of his display table in a death grip, "Hello. I need-" He looked down to the paper. "Ten meters of rope, whatever kind is lightest, flint and steel, and..." He trailed off, then turned the paper around and slid it toward the survivalist merchant. "Whatever this bloody thing is."
At the bottom of the page was a surprisingly intricate illustration, especially since it was likely done in mere moments by a woman who just finished having most of her blood put back into her body. Marked as to-scale, it looked like the housing of a compass, but the opening in the front was only one-third as big as the face. The diagram indicated that the flint and steel were to be sealed inside it. Never to escape, apparently. Kale didn't know how it was supposed to work, but it wasn't his money... yet. "I think this will cover it," he set down the pouch containing Roht's meager wealth.
The palm-sized compass thing is a Farohtian fire striker. Astarelle will be able to send a small amount of sand into the housing and use it to scrape the flint and steel against each other. Sparks fly out the small opening. I'm okay with all of the money going poof* if I can get a nice quality rope out of it, lightness preferred over strength.
*so long as 7 gold remain
The enforcer turned, preemptively ending a conversation with another armored man. "Shopping trip," he rumbled from the depths of his helmet. He handed the boy a piece of paper and a bag of coins.
"Roht Mirage," Kale read aloud, processing it for a moment before turning red in the face. "One of her little shit kids took my gold! You guys better shake it out of him."
The enforcer squared his already-impossibly-squared shoulders, every line of his frame saying, "You are in no position to make demands." Yet, what came out of his mouth was nothing but soft-edged professionalism. "She and her entourage have been taken into custody. We will attempt to return all the stolen goods. Unfortunately, we are short on time, and if her funds were to come back lighter than expected," he gestured to the bag, "there would likely be no one available to verify the receipt." There might have been a wink behind the visor.
"You mean... oh. Ho ho ho. Gotcha," Kale tapped his knuckles companionable against the man's broad chest plate, "Our secret." The helmet scraped with a wary shake of the head, and a sigh crept quietly out. Kale turned to go, but froze on his first step. "I'm not complaining," he said, twisting back halfway, "But why am I running errands for her?"
The enforcer shrugged like a mountain shaking off its hat of snow, "She said she needed it for the final round."
Kale's jaw dropped. "Roht? Roht Mirage?"
"Yes."
"Sand girl. Gets thrown around like a toy."
"I've heard."
"She advanced?"
Another shrug. "Apparently."
"Bloody hell," Kale snapped in a voice that carried far down the hall, "Is the mute going blind now?"
The enforcer snapped up a warning hand and spoke with unnatural caution. "I don't know, but his ears are still damn good, kid. Just go. I need to busy myself before they pick me to babysit those little monsters."
Kale looked up and down the hall, gave the enforcer a sheepish nod, then sprinted off.
~
Breathless again, Kale arrived in the central hall of Ixian Castle. It didn't look like it, though. The place was packed with people squawking to find out where the final round would be held, which yielded no answers as of yet. Thankfully, there was much to distract them. A large assortment of merchants had set up stalls from end to end, stretching like long centipedes, its thousand legs lunging out to snatch coins and toss out trinkets and memorabilia. Kale tried to ignore them as he wriggled his way through the crowd, though one particular stall caught his eye. A brightly-shrouded man sat amid bottles of dried and powdered orc testicle (for virility), unicorn horn fragments (for insight), and vials of ice wraith tears (for Thanes-know-what). His newest treasure, he held aloft in a jar that still had wet blood around the seal.
"Pieces of the Abomination," he crowed, "Unleash the monster within!"
Kale paled and tried to continue on. He caught a whiff of something delicious, though, and turned to see the flesh-hawker's next door neighbor. A burly dwarf had set up both a stew pot and a bed of coals. The stew smelled delicious, and the chunks of meat over the coals were searing just perfectly. Kale tested the weight of Roht Mirage's coin pouch. She owes me a meal, at least, he reasoned. But, as he drew closer, he recognized the cut of the meat. It was just like....
He looked back to the Abomination flesh held high. Don't want to know. Really don't want to know. He scurried on his way before the contents of his stomach could get ahead of him.
~
Finally, Kale tracked down an appropriate stall. Maps coated the back wall of it, making each featured location look far more vibrant than it likely would in person. He squeezed through a wall of bodies to sandwich himself against the stall's cluttered table, causing compasses and myriad other survival supplies to jostle around. Reeling, he slapped the note down on the table, not so much to be rude, but to keep from toppling over it.
"Um...," he began, meeting the eyes of a seasoned adventurer who held the other end of his display table in a death grip, "Hello. I need-" He looked down to the paper. "Ten meters of rope, whatever kind is lightest, flint and steel, and..." He trailed off, then turned the paper around and slid it toward the survivalist merchant. "Whatever this bloody thing is."
At the bottom of the page was a surprisingly intricate illustration, especially since it was likely done in mere moments by a woman who just finished having most of her blood put back into her body. Marked as to-scale, it looked like the housing of a compass, but the opening in the front was only one-third as big as the face. The diagram indicated that the flint and steel were to be sealed inside it. Never to escape, apparently. Kale didn't know how it was supposed to work, but it wasn't his money... yet. "I think this will cover it," he set down the pouch containing Roht's meager wealth.
The palm-sized compass thing is a Farohtian fire striker. Astarelle will be able to send a small amount of sand into the housing and use it to scrape the flint and steel against each other. Sparks fly out the small opening. I'm okay with all of the money going poof* if I can get a nice quality rope out of it, lightness preferred over strength.
*so long as 7 gold remain