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  1. #1
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar

    Curious Bird (Closed)

    I flexed my hand and stared down at it, watching my glove ripple on the back of my hand. The bar was rather quiet at the moment, and I sat in one corner, propping my feet up on the table in front of me. Currently I didn't have a Hunt to pursue, and it was a rare moment of down-time for me. The Academy had told me to take the chance to rest and recuperate after my confrontation with my treacherous friend, and that they would let me know if they had anything I needed to be aware of.

    So I was at a bit of a loss on what to do. I wasn't much one to sit around and wait, doing nothing - I was an active man and being told to just wait irritated the hells out of me. But I'd also been told that if I kept overly active without them contacting me then they'd hold back on giving me information right away, and I did not want that happening. No, if they got anything more about the people who had held me for those years that I was missing, I definitely wanted to know about it as soon as possible.

    So for now, I would be ‘good’ and wait. And drink slowly, because even on vacation I didn't want to dull my edges. As I sat I stared into the swirling alcohol glaring at it. At this point? I knew no one, nothing. My friend had betrayed me, tried to kill me, and died for it. Amari thought I was dead, and the only person close to her who knew the truth wanted me to stay away until I could help a prisoner get free. Vixen was the Moon only knew where.

    So on my little vacation, I didn't even have someone I could go and talk to. All I could fucking do was sit and stare moodily into my booze until the Academy sent someone to find me. It kind of infuriated me, being so passive, it I needed their resources, so I had to play their game.

    I let out a snort and drained the mug, ignoring the sharp bite of the alcohol as it burned its way down my throat. Before I had even finished setting the mug down, the barmaid had brought me another. I knew, of course, that this bar was associated with the Academy, and the dean - the only friend I knew who I still trusted - had likely told them to keep me occupied for as long as I was here. They certainly had been giving me enough drinks over the past few days, and refusing to accept payment.

    I sighed, shoulders slumping, before I ran my finger along the rim of the mug. This enforced peace was driving me up a wall, and I really didn't know how much longer I could take it. Hell. I was tempted to go try and hunt down a member of the Golden Lily, see if any of them were in Alerar, and try to pass a message to Philomel. I wondered if the Faunus woman still hated me for what I'd done to her?

    Bah. It was probably better if she did. She didn't need a Hunter like me in her life. She needed the nobles, the heroes who would strive to be good. I was, not that, not by a long shot. I tried, especially now that I had my memories, I tried, but I was too… Brutal, too vindictive. I couldn't be the noble hero, not for anyone. I growled and slammed back the alcohol, this time draining the entire thing in one gulp. I dropped it down, ignoring the slightly surprised look on the barmaid’s face as she brought over another mug.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  2. #2
    Legend

    EXP: 59,606, Level: 10
    Level completed: 51%, EXP required for next Level: 5,394
    Level completed: 51%,
    EXP required for next Level: 5,394


    Stare's Avatar

    GP
    150

    Name
    Avis Tsakaka
    Age
    16
    Race
    Kenku / Tengu
    Gender
    Female
    Location
    Corone
    Life had been steadily getting those small increments of easier. Ever since she had first stepped out into the sunlight at Vitruvion's side, Stare had found herself gaining freedoms, trust and confidence from him. Of course, that did not mean that she would ever gain full independence from her master-god-employer-definitely-not-lover - and that point had been made very clear ever since he had given her immortality - but at least it was better.

    She stared out across the academy grounds, this place as alien to her as another world. Alerar was, as they said, vastly different from it brethren country of Raiaera, where high fashion, elegance and decorum was the morals of the world. Here, the coal-skinned drow worked tirelessly, with industry and very little magic. They strove in a way that was more socialist than monarchist, that Stare found herself oddly attracted to. As she saw it, they worked as one here, valuing each other, savouring the importance of every cog in their mighty machine of industry.
    She saw one of the great factories of legend in the distance, it's towers pricking the dusky sky. Plumes of smoke became clouds, wafting away on the natural breeze. Her heart began to race also as she noticed a glinting rounded object in the sky that could only be one of those airships; a floating vehicle of wonder that ran on energy of steam. It glinted in the sky, like a star eager to be chased, and if Stare had not a direction today she would have.

    But the academy was where her purpose lay today, stretched out before her like a tumbling world of order. Buildings expertly crafted and suitably arranged for the few students here to wander past. Some of them naturally stared, as the kenku stepped away from their office building, but Stare was definitely used to being the odd species out.

    She had come here seeking guidance, sent by the decision of Vitruvion to enact a new idea after their failed attempt to capture her undead brother Avin by any degree. There had been a series of adventures with a young girl called McKinley that had gained Stare more confidence in what could be achieved in terms of finding her brother who was enslaved by Vindrexis, Vitruvion's brother and both their ultimate enemy. But it had all eventually tumbled to naught, without success and so now Stare was here, in Alerar, where she had never thought to have been, all to gain information about how to kill.

    The legendary academy of hunters was certainly a place to begin.

    Now she strode slowly away from the office, where a grizzled man with tiny spectacles had told her that one of their greatest might be found in a pub. It did not fill Stare with the greatest confidence, but she walked anyway, hoping that this pub-goer was at least sober enough to give some advice. Briefly, she checked her mind, and detected the very faint connection of her god's mind mildly paying attention. Sometimes he was altogether gone, or just appearing to be gone and secretly watching - so it was delivered positive.

    She rolled back her shoulders, adjusting her wings, set her hand on the hilt of the dagger at her belt and headed into the main forum of the academy. Her eyes (and feet) moved around the buildings until she found one on the outskirts that had enough people going in and out and a suitable name enough to register as a drinking house. Setting herself ready for whatever was to come she endured her wings were hidden beneath her cloak, shoved the door with her shoulder and barged in.

    It was dark, medium sized and fairly empty. But it still had enough occupants to need to ask. All were drow here, and Stare didn't know how to properly spot 'a good Hunter’. And so she moved to the bar, where one patron was glaring at the woodwork, and a barmaid was delightfully cleaning.

    “I am looking for … a Huntsman,” she said in a firm voice, “The office said that 'one of experience’ was here, without work?”
    Crows: Old nursery rhyme "One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a funeral, Four for birth, Five for heaven, Six for hell, Seven for the devil, his own self."

  3. #3
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    “You'll be wanting the angry man in the corner there, dearie. I hope you have work for him, or else he might try to figure out how many parts he can cut before you scream.” My ears had picked up the conversation, but I had initially pushed it out of my mind, firmly believing that this would just be one more wasted day for me. The fact that the barmaid was directing this newcomer towards me though, made me look up and study the individual who had come in.

    Avian hybrid species, a ‘Kenku’ I think they were called. Had originally appeared in Corone some number of hundreds of years ago - millenia, I think it was. Still, it was recorded that they weren't originally from this world, and had just shown up one day. No matter, though, they were about on average with every race out there, with exemplars and failures on equal proportion. I didn't know which this one was, but considering that the Academy had apparently sent her in my direction meant she had to be of some repute.

    Wait. Weren't Kenku the ones that Vixen had been searching for? I remembered her saying, claiming, that she was their deity originally, until she'd been deposed and imprisoned. Had she then, found one and sent them after me? Her way of trying to garner my attention? I tilted my head to one side, watching the female bird. I'd have to see then if she was a messenger; I doubted it, but who knows, maybe in the intervening time the Kenku had come to understand what they missed and welcomed the unusual woman that I had helped back into their midst and their pantheon.

    As she turned and looked in my direction, clearly not wanting to believe the other woman’s words, I merely indicated the chair on the other side of the table from me. I as not about to give up my spot with my back to the wall, and even if she decided to start hostilities, well. I could either handle her, or evade her. I doubted this would be a repeat occurrence of Philomel’s approach, though. I settled my hand back down on the table, not bothering to return my face mask to its normal position. The Kenku had already seen my face, and I wasn't about to scramble and hide it. I sat back as she looked at the seat I gestured, then slowly settled down into it, and I folded my arms over my chest.

    She didn't carry herself like a fighter. No, not a true fighter. She might be forced into it, might have gone through things that forged her into something, but it wasn't a fighter. A survivor, someone who had been forced to fight, and kill, but against her will, until she became used to it. She was more guarded than someone born to the fight, held herself closer in, more warily than someone like I did. Small, tiny gestures, the way she stood as she walked over to me and examined me with those inhuman eyes, tiny twitches as she tried to remain aware of everyone around her.

    Now why was someone like this searching for a Huntsman? She could probably handle a fair few things herself, and those like her rarely trusted people they didn't know. Someone must have pointed her to the Academy then, told her to come to us.

    “What do you need?” I studied her intently. Even small motions could give me more insight into this ‘Kenku’ being. If nothing else, it might be something worth sharing with Vixen if I ever ran into her again.

    “A tiny man with even smaller glasses at the office said I might find an experienced Hunter here. One who has a lot of knowledge on monsters of unusual type. You are they?” she asked in a low, to-the-point tone. Hmm. There were a few there that fit the description she gave, at least who knew I was here. I rolled my shoulders in a gentle shrug.

    “I have been around for a long time, miss, and hunted many things. I am likely one of the more knowledgeable Huntsmen around, yes.” I folded my hands together and watched as she sank down into the chair across from me. “So then. Are you on the trail of knowledge? Or do you need something slain?” I didn't know if I had the time to accept a hunt from an individual from another nation - but if this bird needed information on how to kill something, well, that was far easier to provide.

    “Both. Either. Or.” She blinked, fixing me with a fully black stare before she tilted her head a little. “There are two creatures really, both of them rather different. If you could start with the knowledge then that would be a start. And I can pay. Better than any other patron, but I need to know if you are willing to take the job.” She set a clawed hand on the table and dropped three golden Raiaeran crowns. I studied them for a moment. Well, I already presumed she was a foreigner, but really, to flaunt money from the nation that Alerar detested the most? Not exactly paying attention, was she? I snorted.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

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