Swords, Sex and Sorcery (IC thread)

kittenofdeath

*Confused screeching*
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Jun 27, 2007
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“Attention all passengers” a small gnome said, nobody in the cramped, makeshift bar paid him any mind, they had been in the air for over a month and most of the passengers holed up in the converted ships hold couldn’t give a rats arse what any of the officials had to say anymore. The gnome wasn’t going to quit so easily, he climbed on top of the bar and grabbed a metal pan and a serving spoon off the bartender “ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS!” The gnome yelled at the top of his lungs, bashing the pan and stick together to make one hell of a racket “we will be touching down in Rania shortly” he continued once they all turned to glare at him “we ask that all passengers of this vessel prepare their belongings, and all visitors make ready to return to their own ships.”

The mood in the room lightened considerably as that sank in, they were finally going to get out of the damned air and back on to solid ground. “By the gods its about time” Zell exclaimed with joy in his voice, tossing his hand of cards on to the table as he stood up. “Hey, I could have beat that” one of the other players complained with a scowl, but Zell didn’t care, withdrawing his gold coin from the pot despite the glares he was getting. “Too bad, I'm out of here, the faster I'm on the ground again the better” he said as a farewell as he left, the offense that would normally have started a brawl being ignored on account the good mood settling over everyone.

Zell pulled his goggles down and over his eyes as he made his way through the bowls of the supply ship, humming a happy tune as he went along, he had really detested the trip, he had managed to get himself a ticket on the best ship in the fleet, a real luxury cruise type, and within a week he had decided to stay as far away from the damned thing as much as he could. His ship was fancy, but everyone on it was too, fancy generally means stuck up and intolerant, all the rich folk didn’t like the scary, monochrome demon hanging around like it was people. Assholes.

Luckily this had been anticipated, so a number of smaller ships that berthed on the others did nothing but ferry people and supplies from one ship to another. The supplies were needed to survive, the people needed to move or go insane. So Zell had found a few nice haunts, such as the little brewhouse here where he could play cards, that helped to keep him from hurting people, which would have been a bad idea this far up.

He walked out in to the bright top deck of the ship, even with the goggles he squinted for a moment, then quickly joined a number of other people waiting for a ferry to their own ships of origin. It took a few minutes, but before long he was back on the exquisitely carved flagship of the fleet, and before he had taken two steps he had gotten a few bad looks from his fellow passengers. To be fair, he was a horned, black and white half demon with gray hair, clad in tough leather armour he had died black so he could sneak better at night, but it didn’t mean they still had to look at him like he was going to kill something, he didn’t even have any weapons on him, no one on the fleet had been allowed to keep so much as a boot knife on them.

He sighed and wandered over to the serving boy handing out refreshments and took some water, he may not have fit in, and he may have done his best to avoid the place, but he was a passenger here and he was entitled to every privilege the rest of them were.
 
Xarkl smiled up at the bright sunny day. Truly, the Goddess was with them all today. Her Eye scorched hotly down upon the airship, but Xarkl was used to far worse in his arid home, and the steady cool breeze kept everything exceedingly comfortable. The cerulean expanse of the sky above filled his vision from corner to corner, with not a single cloud to disrupt the endless swimming sensation one felt gazing into the infinite distance. The sky below swarmed with the relatively tiny forms of the interfleet supply craft, efficiently zipping between the bulk of the leviathan ships of the line.

Here on the flagship's boarding level the portholes and magical viewing fields typical of the decks below were rendered unnecessary by the yawning shuttle bay. Xarkl enjoyed coming to this level and wandering out as close to the open sky as he could, since the view was magnificent, and the physical presence of Sarenrae was constant in the daylight hours. The routine scrambling and hustling as the various ferryships docked and undocked was also a welcome source of stimulation.

Since leaving the Temple, Xarkl had slowly meandered across the land, the awkwardness of his final weeks with the Abbess and acolytes fading from his thoughts with every besieged caravan he'd helped to rescue from bandits and every dessicating former oasis he'd helped evacuate. Arriving at the city, the inexperienced desert dweller had been practically overcome with the vibrant energies he'd felt on the thoroughfares and the ominous auras emanating from the alleys. He'd purchased a few fascinating trinkets from the silver-tongued merchants of the bazaar, perhaps parting with slightly more gold than a native would have paid; observed all manner of intriguing behaviour at the various inns and taverns of all the districts, miraculously avoiding battle by virtue of his innocent demeanour, and finally, purchased his passage on this aircraft, off to a distant land.

The young paladin beamed widely as he saw a small craft pull into the docking bay. With his winning ways, Xarkl had befriended practically everyone he'd encountered thus far on his voyage, passengers and crew alike, and the prospect of meeting a new set of interesting and diverting friends on the same voyage enthused him completely. Turning his light brown face away from the view of the outside sky, Xarkl made for the metal ladder connecting his catwalk to the main part of the deck below. Free of his customary encumbering platemail, the Sun-worshipper slipped down the ladder in no time at all, touching down lightly after he leapt off the final rung.

Casting a glance around the milling group of just-debarked passengers, Xarkl noticed that one of them, a horned fellow kitted out in black, was standing by himself with a watercup. Seeing that this traveller wasn't engaged in a conversation which would be rude to interrupt, Xarkl openly walked forward, directly towards the man, and stopped a polite distance away before he hailed him in cheerful greeting.

"Brightness of Morning to you, good sir! I am Xarkl of the desert, and would like very much to make your acquaintance, should you find that amenable."
 
Unusually, today Lexavier was sat outside. A pleasant secluded seating area close to the bow gave a breath taking view of the cloud strewn landscape, and gave her a certain peace she'd been unable to find since stepping onto this infernal ship. Many times since this voyage she'd regretted her decision to join the many adventurers on this unnatural mode of transport. Most of the journey she'd spent alone in her room, unable to enjoy the beautiful scenery as it bobbed gracefully up and down causing many sleepless nights.
Propping her chin upon a slender arm, she gazed across at the flagship. The so called "Pride" of the fleet, its ungainly appearance annoyed her somehow. She desperately tried to calm herself, what use was being irritable now the journey was almost complete?
She adjusted the loose skirt, crossing her legs underneath her, briefly considering returning to her cabin and putting on her armour again. There was something comforting about wearing the protection, especially around so many strangers.
It was hard to hide the fact that she was an elf, and although racism was fairly uncommon, she had already met one human who'd had too much to drink and too much to say. Still, it made her smile thinking how she'd surprised him by turning into a Dog, he certainly didn't laugh at her growl.
 
Zell was vacantly scanning the crowd, a mix of paranoia and bordom making him take note of everything he saw, untill he noticed the large fellow making his way through the crowd towards him. He sized him up as a target in his head, the man was clearly a warrior judging by his build, but didnt appear to armed or armoured in any way. Besides, the guy looked happy, thats not how people normaly looked when walking up to him.

"Ummm..." Zell was a bit unbalanced by that introduction, sliding his goggles up from over his eyes, he didnt like having them off in sunlight, but he was looking away from the light so he was fine "okay" he took a sip of his water, still somewhat bemused "I'm Zell, of some random cave. Aquaint away" he finished, taking another sip as he tried to figure out what angle the guy was playing, they always had an angle.
 
Scully didn't pay too much mind to the cramped conditions of the ship. In the warrens and congested streets he had grown up in, personal space was a rare luxury as it was. He'd by lying however if he said he didn't enjoy walking on deck and feeling the cool wind across his face. He had heard lots of conflicting stories about what to expect when they reached Rania. All of them involved more wilderness than he had ever seen though. But given the pleasant, fresh air, maybe nature would be a welcome switch. Whatever got him away from the capital anyway.

He still felt just a little bit vulnerable without his daggers. Security had confiscated all weapons while on board and they wouldn't be returned until everyone was off the ship at the earliest. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was likely more nimble than anyone else here. His philosophy in regards to fighting was that the winner wasn't who dealt the most damage, but whoever didn't get hit. And he was still a good shot with any found object he could get his hands on.

He spotted another passenger at the bow, an elf maiden by the looks of it, and smiled to himself. He had largely kept to himself for most of the trip, sizing people up, though he never missed an opportunity to talk with a pretty lady. He swept a hand back through his dark hair to straighten out any whisps that had gotten loose from his braided ponytail and strolled up beside her, leaning casually against the railing as if just as interested in the view as her. "Afternoon, pretty lady." He could tell before he had finished speaking that she probably kept to herself more than he did. Just the way she carried herself suggested she preferred to be alone. Nevertheless, no harm in trying. If all he got out of this was a short but pleasant conversation, it was still worth it as far as he was concerned.
 
"At last!" boomed Tarik, at the announcement. He raised his recently refilled tankard in one giant, tanned fist, shouted "Praise be to Cayden Cailean!" and drained the vessel in one go, slamming it back down onto the bar before turning to survey the room.

He grinned widely, running a hand through his shagy aurburn hair, pausing breifly on the almost concealed stumps of his horns. Clad in his simple tunic and kilt (and as a couple of bored ladies had found out during the voyage, nothing else...), he was an imposing figure, standing easily head and shoulders above anyone else in the bar and just as impressive in width of shoulder. "Make way!" he bellowed amiably as he began to stride out of the bar on his bull-like legs, his hooves noisy on the wooden decking as he moved with exagerated care.

He received nothing but friendly grins - on the journey he had proven to be a cheerful and generous drinking companion, friendly and open in spite of his imposing figure. Even those who were prejudiced against non-humans had held their tongue - it is surprising how few insults a fellow gets after he has demonstrated that he can crush a pewter tankard in one hand. The one brawl that had started had finished just as quickly as it began, and ended with both man and aasterion drunk and singing lewd songs together in off-key voices.

Not wishing to be stepped on by those massive hooves, most people quickly cleared a path for the huge bull-man as he exited the bar and those that did not were gently but firmly pushed aside. He returned to his common room and taking a key from around his neck unlocked the foot-locker into which he had stowed his gear. Slipping on his padded under-armour then sliding on his precious mithril maille, he strapped on his sword belt - sans sword, at the moment - and hefted his backpack.

He stretched and flexed, allowing the maille to settle comfortably over his shoulders, hanging down to just above the knee where his human-like legs began their transition into the digitigrade limbs of a bull. Then ducking his head as he traversed the low coridoors, he headed out on deck, seeking the quartermaster who had taken his weapons.

But he soon gave up his immediate quest - of course, everybody else had had the same idea. He decided that in this instance, he may as well wait, and seek a way to entertain himself whilst doing so. The company of a pretty lady, perhaps, even just in chat?

Standign head and shoulders above the crowd, he baegan to look around for a likely lady.
 
Lexy jumped a little, glancing up at the man. Had she really been so deep in thought her usual sense of awareness had dulled?? ... No, no, by the look of the man she guessed even if she hadn't been gazing off across the land, she wouldn't have heard him coming.

She mutely studyed him, from his stance to his tattoo and came to a conclusion. Her lips curled into a soft smile and she returned to watch the busy ships. "Hello" her voice soft and gentle, innocent sounding even. "It's nice here isn't it? I wish I'd found this spot at the start."
 
With an over-exaggerated sigh Kat slipped from the embrace of her lovers. Yes, it was plural, after all the more the merrier sometimes. She hadn’t even gotten the name of the young handsome guard she had seduced, nor the beautiful young woman he had been talking too. Not that it mattered much, she left them smiling and with a story to tell later. As that sleek, svelte frame slid from the mattress she felt her muscles aching deliciously, a reminder of those few moments of ecstasy. She would have preferred a bath or a shower to cleanse herself of the combined passions all three had left upon her, but already those feline ears perked as she heard the resounding cry of land at last. With a few arcane words and a subtle gesture of those delicate hands she rid herself of the residue; leaving her clean and fresh though did nothing for that ache in her sleek muscles.

Shimmering ambers pools danced over the small room she had shared with the others last night, lingering upon the still prone frames for a brief time as she dressed. The slinky attire did little to hide that all too alluring fame, a clinging top and shorts that clung to only one leg. A thick red belt was slung about her shapely hips and a light purple cloak tossed about her slender shoulders as well. As she gathered her meager belongings and headed for the door the young guard stirred, rising his head just as the sleek feline opened the door and was heading out.

“Wait!” He said, perhaps a little desperately. She hesitated for but a moment, casting him a side long glance as her ears perked in his direction. She lingered in silence there, which the young man took to continue.

“I don’t even know your name,” He stumbled over his words, which caused the feline to laugh lightly.

“I’m Kat. Remember that when you tell your story at the bar tonight,” She canted her head to the side and blew the young human a teasing kiss before she slid from the room, the only sound her departure made was the soft click of the door’s latch falling into place.
 
"It's more air than I'm used to," Scully said in reply. "I like it though. I'm from the city. Even the parks there smell like rotting garbage and wet rats, so this is a nice change." While the elf girl was staring out at the sky, he took a surreptitious look up and down her body. She had a stunning figure and a very alluring face. Scully never really considered himself a womanizer. He liked to think of it as being more like art appreciation. The city was an ugly place to live, and a vision of beauty was always welcome.

"I hear elves really like the outdoors," he remarked to spark up a little conversation. "There any truth to that? And if there is, any advice you can give to a city boy like me?"
 
Her nose crinkled cutely as she imagined the smell of wet rat. A smell she had experienced before and she must agree, not a pleasant one, although she wasn't about to tell him that the wet rat had been her...

"While I give no credence to racial stereotyping, I do have to admit you'll find more elves outdoors than in. We're at home amongst the trees. But even I have to say, this is 'more air' than I'm used to." She gave a little look over the edge and shuddered, drawing herself away from the side. "I shall be happier once we touch down, I am not fond of this mode of transport."

She stood up in one fluid motion, biting her bottom lip with a pondering expression. "As for advice. Tryyyy 'avoid the big scary beasts, they'll try to eat you'" She said with a perfectly straight face.
 
Scully made a show of looking shocked and wiping his brow. "Well, that saves me a lot of grief. I was thinking that if I saw any wild beasts, I should invite them in for tea. But they don't sound like very good house guests anymore." He wasn't sure if she had a really good gambler's face or if that was really all she had to tell him. Either way, he erred on the side of responding with humor.

"I take it you yourself are fond of nature then, but maybe not seeing it the way the birds do. So what is there to do in the woods? Other than frolic, I mean."
 
"The truth of it is, the forests are dangerous for more reasons than just the beasts. It's very easy to become lost, especially in the larger ones. You think you're heading in just one direction but you dont, you move at angles and if you're not careful, you'll turn yourself around until you don't know which way is out... thats when the beasts eat you..."
She suddenly beamed at him. "I am fond of nature. It's a part of me." Lexy answered softly, obviously a subject she enjoyed discussing. "The woods make you offerings, the trees give you shelter, the plants give you food and water.." She seemed to be gazing off again as she spoke, sighing as she remembered her home land.

With a snap she was brought back and looked at the man. "City life is very foreign to me too. The hustle and bustle of people, the air heavy and polluted, how do you cope?"
 
He noted the dreamy, far-off look in her eyes. Her description of the wilds as a dangerous place didn't sound too much different from life on the streets. One wrong turn and you ended up in an alley where your un-slashed neck was the only thing standing between a cluster of beggars and the money to buy food. At least out in the woods the danger would be more obvious. If it had sharp teeth, chances were good it could kill you.

At her question he smiled. "Booze. And lots of it. When we're not drinking, we usually complain to pass the time until we start drinking again. And every so often, we overthrow the local government. That's always fun."
 
"I see." she replied although she really didnt. It all sounded very complicated and not something she wanted to experience. The forest had its dirt ofcourse, but the city seemed... dirty dirty, was the only way she could describe it to herself.

"I must pick up my things from my cabin before we arrive." She turned to leave, but stopped, seemingly remembering something. Glancing round she added "It has been pleasant conversing with you, Mr...?"
 
"I'm Zell, of some random cave..." was all that entered Xarkl's ears before excitement overwhelmed his cognitive faculties.

The young paladin's eyes widened to the point where one worried for the security of the brown orbs' fastness in their sockets. Trembling slightly with frenzy, he inhaled deeply, and let his next words gush forth in a ceaseless, unremitting torrent.

"A r-random cave?! That..that is completely incredible, sir!" the knight of the Sun ejaculated. The verbiage continued apace.

"Pray tell, Master Zell, what nature of randomness possesses your birthplace? Mayhap it is stochastically situated, in that it drifts about from Plane to Plane, one day firmly here in the material, another drifting slowly on the Ethereal? Or is it instead protean in its quiddity, such that the walls and floors shift from rock to honeyed pudding to green mist to even more fantastical stuff and back again? I can conceive also of a fluctuating variance in the denizens, shifting and changing form according to the dominant dweomers of the demesne; be that instead the true nature of the flux, and if so, is that how you received those horns?"

The imminent debarkation announcement interrupted the peculiar flow of Xarkl's thoughts. A pained expression spread across his boyish face. Agonizingly contrasting the cost of rudely breaking off this fascinating talk with his new friend against delaying his obedience of the clear instructions delivered by the authorities of the ship, his Lawful nature won out over his urge for politeness, just barely.

Sending his forehead rushing toward the ground in an uncannily deep bow, the paladin spun as he rose, the apologetic tone on his face colouring his words as he beat a rapid retreat.

"I am deeply sorry for the boorishness of my withdrawal, sir. An it please thee, we must continue this discussion anon, Zell of the Random Cave! I shall await you at the arrival area of Rania Skyport, clad in a blue cape. Light of the Goddess shine on you always!"

The desert-dweller swung one foot well past the other as he zoomed off out of the docking bay to the bow of the ship, where the levitation tubes lay waiting to rise him back to his cabin.

Miraculously avoiding what would have been torturously painful collisions with the passengers and crew he saw en route, and yelling out cheerful hails and greetings all the way, Xarkl spun around the corner of the bow. He was darting through another open area before arriving at his ultimate destination when he saw two other passengers engaged in a light conversation. Not wishing to interrupt them, but unable to break his stride without causing grievous accident, he waved to the two, a charming blonde lady in a green leaf-patterned bodice and a brunette man in a grey shirt and brown vest.

"Brightness of Morning to you, Sir!" said Xarkl as he zipped up to the man. "I, Xarkl, beg pardon for the swiftness of my passage."

He was going to utter the same to the lady, but then he caught sight of the pointed tips of her ears. Quickly cottoning on to her arboreal attire, he swapped out his intended pleasantry for something more culturally apropos as he sped by her.

<Hail, Mistress of the Woods. For your defence of the land I, Xarklarakh of the desert, and all other Feyfolk remain eternally grateful> he said, in the cultured Elvish accent the Abbess had so carefully drilled him in all his life.

Swiftly looping around the last turn, Xarkl lost sight of the two before he could hear their replies. Thinking that he'd have to make suitable restitution should he see them again, the knight leapt into a levitation tube, and was swept upward by the gentle upward push of magic.

Ducking into his own cabin Xarkl was greeted immediately by the burnished shine of his armour, so carefully polished and laid out earlier in the morning. Diving into it, he shrugged on heavy plates and tightened straps as he cast his eye around the room for his neatly-packed baggage and tidily laid out travel papers, which were exactly where he'd placed them before leaving for the docking bay.

Sliding on his left greave, Xarkl shook his head to himself and let out a final amazed chuckle.

"A random cave, who could even imagine?"
 
Tarik gently but irresistably forced his way through the crowd, taking care not to step on anybody's feet but at the same time refusing to be held back by the crush of people.

Ahead of him he could see a pair of brutish looking half-orcs nudging each other as they stared at a stunningly attractive but quite outlandish cat-like young woman who had just made her way out onto the deck. Making a couple of obscene hand gestures to each other, and laughing grimly, they began to force their way through the crowd towards her.

Hmmm... thought Tarik. I don't like the look of those two... and he started to follow them through the crush.

By the time they reached the gorgeous cat-woman, he was standing right behind them, but they were too focused on their "prey" to notice...
 
Standing there in silence was all Zell could do, he opened his mouth to try to correct the man, but he couldn’t get a word in, so he just rode it out, occasionally taking a sip from his drink, until the timely intervention of the landing announcement put a stop to it, taking the odd man away in an amusing show of unnecessary formality.

“And that, Zell my boy” he said to himself before polishing off his drink “is why we don’t do drugs, rots your brain” he dropped the cup on to a passing waiters tray and headed off as well, quickly navigating through the mess of people doing the same, say what you want about being a pariah, but it cleared out crowds nicely.

His cabin was pitch black, the lights doused and the porthole covered, Zell didn’t like bright wake ups. He sat on his bed and pulled his backpack over, double checking all his things were there, it was all in order, just one thing missing, his tail flicked over to the pillow, moving under it and dragging out a small switchblade which he deposited in to his bag, he didnt need it on hand, he could do more damage with his claws and teeth, but a bit of steel nearby helped him sleep easy.

His gear packed he stood and threw on his coat, a lovely hooded dark brown leather number that almost reached his ankles, with a deep red velvet lining, he loved his coat, there were few things in the world that he could say he loved, his coat, his sword, his tail... He couldn’t think of anything else, but it did occur to him he was about to be reunited with his beloved sword, it was a beastly thing that he had crafted himself, there was no other like it in the world and he was proud of it, he couldn’t wait to give it a swing again.
 
"Scully. Scully Brand. And your name, lovely?" He decided to let her go as he watched the ship's descent from the deck. Aside from his blades, everything he owned was already on his person. The circumstances under which he left gave him no room for luxuries, limited gold, and a sense of mild paranoia that prompted him to keep his coin hidden on his person. Growing up around thieves tended to keep one somewhat wary of strangers.

Nevertheless, he hoped to be seeing more of the elven maiden before him. She didn't seem to pick up on his jokes very well, but that just meant that she could supply him with an endless source of straight lines. Back home, that had been his old friend Barton. A sly pickpocket, but not a terribly sharp wit. Barton however was now an ocean away and the cramped quarters of the ship made most people none too appreciative of sarcasm.
 
"My name is Lexavier. You may call me Lexy if you want to." She flashed him a little smile, bobbed her head politely and flittered away into the crowd.

She didn't like it much, there was a lot of armour, and it stank, especially the metal. People pressed into her from all sides and she really had to fight to get through them. She thought about switching to a rat and scittering through their legs but she decided against it. They were to land soon, who knows when she'd need that today.

With a small grunt she finally ended up in a less crowded corridor adjacent to her cabin. Slipping inside she let out a sigh and gazed around the room she'd called home for a month. She didn't have much unpacked, so it was quite easy to slip on the rest of her armour and pick up her backpack.

Her armour smelt of spring, the leaves giving off the pine like smell, and the whispy smell of the alchemy ingredients used to treat it was like it's own little perfume.

With one final check she nodded her head, and set off again. She stood on the deck, trying to keep out of the way of busy people as she tried to gauge the best place to stand ready for disembarking...
 
Disembarkation was happening from the top deck, so Zell had little choice but to go back in to the daylight so soon, he sighed at the prospect, the sun was not his friend, but he wanted off the damned ship, so he put up with it. He figured since he was up there, he might as well take in the sights, he made his way to the front of the ship and looked out over the land.

It was different to what he had seen when they left, the port here was a massive city, with everything from hovels and slums to mansions and spires, the port itself stretched out over the water, robust support struts extending deep down below the waves, it was like an oversized peir, quite different to the land based port they had set out from.

Beyond the city was some grasslands, which quickly shifted in to what looked like a mixture of forest and jungle, broken up by more patches of grassland that appeared to be farms and the occasional village. But behind all of that he could see no more, a brutal looking mountain range cut off his view of the rest, if there even was a rest there.

Curiosity sated, Zell made his way to the closest spot he could leave from, most people were still milling about, so he was one of the few people ready and as a result, would be one of the first to get the hell of the ship.

************************************

It felt good to be on land, or at least something connected to land strongly enough that it didn’t have those tiny movements the ship did “Please make your way down and make way for the rest of the passengers to disembark” said some official on a box, trying to herd the crowd with hand movements. Zell shrugged and did as he was instructed, making his way along until he saw where some of the cargo was being unloaded.

“Hey” he got the attention of one of them men unloading the various things from the ship “This where I can get my sword?” he asked, eager to grip it again “I really want that thing back.”

“Nah buddy, they’re handling that further down” he answered “over there, see the booth with the guards by it?” he pointed out the booth, next to one of the cargo exits, this one flanked by a pair of the ships guard on either side.

“Thanks” Zell rushed off in the direction of the booth, managing to be the first one to get there “where's my sword” he said, getting a little impatient now “its the massive one, you'll know it when you see it”

The official looked down his nose at Zell, hard to do when Zell was a good half a foot taller “Well sir, we cant give you your possessions back without your boarding ticket, you did hold on to it didn’t you?” The smug bastard smirked, obviously hoping to get to mess with a few people. Zell quickly started rummaging around in his belt pouches, eventually finding it in the third pouch he tried.

“Here, now, my sword” the official frowned, denied his fun he passed it to one of his assistants who scurried off in to the ships hold, quickly returning with a small silver boarding axe in hand. Zell fixed him with a glare that could kill “and my sword?”

“It'll be but a moment sir” the boy said in a shaky voice “it was a bit much for me to carry” Zell considered his excuse for a moment, and decided it was good enough, the little cabin boy would probably hurt himself if he had tried to carry it, so he just stepped to the side so he wasnt in the way, checking the quality of the axe as he waited.

“Here you are sir” Zell turned, seeing the cabin boy followed by a pair of workers carrying the blade between them, his face lit up, he had missed his sword. It was massive, the bluish blade alone was taller than he was, and wide enough that he couldnt get his hand around it, and the long two handed grip and the lower part of the blade were wrapped in an odd grayish looking leather.

“I'll take it from here” he grased the handle one handed and hefted it in to the air, much to the amusement of everyone watching the little spectacle, then rested the leather wrapped part of the blade against his shoulder “thanks boys” he turned to leave, giving one last nod to the now horrified looking official who had been thinking about messing with him.

Now that he had his beloved back in his possession, he looked around for what he should do next, he looked for where he could get out of the mass of bodies that were coming from the ships that had touched down so far, but every spot that looked like it led further in to the city was blocked by a handful of what looked like the guard forces of the city. Well equipped fellows in breastplates, all in possession of quality weapons and scanning the crowd like they were prepared to use them, why were they blocking his way in to the city?

Then he saw it, the banner bearer at what looked like the main road in to the city, along with some men and women who looked like officers, it was a border crossing force. He walked over to them, a friendly smile on his face, didn’t stop them tensing up when they saw him coming with his sword still resting against his shoulder. “Morning fellas” he said, getting a closer look at what was behind them, what looked like processing stations with scribes and a lot of paper “I'm guessing I have to sign something?”

“Right you are” a grizzled looking man with dusky skin said, a Sargent if Zell had to guess “just head on through and they'll talk you through it, even do the writing if you cant, then wait for the Generals address.” The guards started parting, allowing Zell and the others who had figured out what to do to get through, Zell made his way to the closest desk and took a seat in the cheep wooden chair opposite the scribe.

“Your name and age?” the scribe asked, two identical sheets of paper in front of him. “Zell, no clan name, and I'm 22” the scribe quickly scribbled it down in the appropriate places. “You're a Tiefling correct? Don’t suppose you know your ancestry” the scribe asked, looking at Zells horns as he did. “Demon blooded sir, cant be more specific than that.” “Fair enough” the scribe continued, still filling in the sheets “your profession?” “Freelance blacksmith” Zell replied, getting a curious look in return “how do you think I made this?” he asked, lifting the massive sword slightly. “Okay, freelance blacksmith it is” the scribe made a few last annotations to the sheets, then slid them both around so Zell could see them “Please check that everything is correct and sign at the bottom.”

Zell couldnt read, so shrugged and just signed, clumsily writing his name with the scribes quill, it was the only word he knew how to write. The scribe then took one copy and added it to an empty folder, and gave the other one to Zell “I would suggest investing in something safe to carry that in, if you cant produce it for any law enforcement, you'll be arrested.”

Zell took the paper and left, heading in to the vast courtyard that the guards were obviously not going to let him leave until their General had made his speech, there were a few people there with him already, and by the looks of things they were being told by the guards what he had already figured out, so he just moved in to the small garden feature and its center and sat on its borders, wishing this would all hurry along.
 
Kat


The catfolk made her way through the crowd at a slow and leisurely pace, her thick tail swishing out behind those shapely hips in an opposite rhythm. The light caught those slitted amber orbs and set them aflame, as did the silken ebon fur gleam. Her feline ears twitched and pered, moving here and there as the sounds of the mob echoed about her. She wasn’t paying much mind to her surroundings, almost seemingly oblivious to all but herself. A quiet little tune played upon her lips as she hummed, though it was for the most part lost in the background noise.

She didn’t so much as see them approach as smell them. Something akin of sour milk, spoiled and rotten. While she didn’t know exactly what that stench belonged to, Kat knew it was attached to nothing good. As she turned on her heels she came face to face with two rather brutish looking half-orcs, both wearing over-confident grins upon their tusked faces. They jested between one another and stared openly as those lush, ripe swells of Kat’s breasts, held so close together, the fabric of her attire pushing them up and together in a tempting display. One made a grab for the ‘goodies’, though the catfolk was quick on her feet as she danced back. Always a kind soul, willing to forgive and forget; Kat had a knack for knowing if someone was worth her time. She would always play nice; at least at the beginning. Even a foul smelling half-orc with nothing on his mind but where to stick his cock could be redeemed.

“I have a better idea,” Kat murmured in a sultry tone, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth dismissively. The half-orcs glanced at each other for a moment before peering back at the feline, who at this time was humming another tune. She spoke then, though her words were more fluid and graceful than before. Whatever language it was, it was not something the half-orcs understood. To everyone else she was singing, yet to the orcs it was something more. All too quickly something snapped in the mind of the right most thug, his eyes darting to his fellow half-orc beside him. Yet as he peered at his comrade there was a curious look in his eye, the same look he had when looking at Kat. He moved against his own will, a unnatural, raw lust over taking him as he reached for his friend and made to kiss him passionately on the lips. The desire lasted all but a moment (6 seconds); yet it was enough to infuriate the other. A meaty fist found tusked face and drew blood. This was enough to snap the other out of his lust-filled daze. He bellowed a challenge and lashed back out. With a giggle Kat ducked out of the way of haymakers, an all too pleased look upon her face as she circled about them and right towards the tall, auburn haired man. She shot him a knowing smile and a playful wink as she passed.

“They weren’t worth the time,” She commented softly in that soft, musical tone; her tail flicking out and brushing over Tarik’s side as she passed.


(Cast Unnatural lust on one of the orcs. Using her spellsong feat she can cover up casting a spell as part of her performance. The orc gets a will save but it’s an orc. If we care about rolling and crap by all means but this was just easier.)





Nizzre

The darkness of her small cabin was a welcome respite from the painful searing of the sun’s rays. Alright perhaps it wasn’t that bad, she had spent some time on the surface getting accustomed to the blinding light, but the darkness still brought some comfort. She needed all she could get, the length of this journey was taxing to say the least. To be away from her sword, a slender and elegant blade she called “Elghinn”, was almost too much to bear. It was more than just a sword, more than an inanimate piece of steel and leather. It was her partner and comrade even if no one but her knew. In a rather nasty mood since relinquishing her friend, Nizzre had resided in her cabin more often than not. She only emerged in the darkness and even then it was only to get some fresh air or find something suitable to sustain herself.

Yet there was no denying the resounding cry of arrival, nor the knock at her door indicating such. Quietly she gathered her belongings and stuffed them into her pack, all but her armor, cloak, and her goggles. She drew those leather bound, black tinted goggles down over her crimson gaze. It wouldn’t stop the initial sting of the light but it would keep those blasted headaches at bay. In the same quiet fashion she wriggled into her armor, a chain shirt wrought of tiny mithril rings. Over that a thick brown cloak was thrown over her slender shoulders and fastened at her throat. The hood was drawn up as she took a breath and emerged from her dark haven, into the brutal morning light.


The tall, lithesome frame easily moved with the flow of the crowd, taking pains not to get too close to anyone. She tried to keep her head in the shadows, if only to keep anyone from catching sight of the ebon flesh and wisps of platinum that danced about her achingly beautiful visage with each step. All she wanted was to get off the god-forsaken ship and onto solid land. It took far too long to feel the solid earth under her heavy boots, though it was welcome nonetheless. She knew her journey was far from at an end, there would be paperwork and doubtlessly more waiting to retrieve her weapons. Regardless, she slipped into line and waited...
 
Tarik started as the silken tail brushed against him, and, smiling, he fell into step beside the grinning cat-girl, his hooves clattering on the deck as he adjusted his pace to match hers.

"That was impressive." he rumbled. "I could see they were up to no good but it looks like you can take care of yourself. Otherwise I might have had to bash their heads together."

With a stride, he was ahead of Kat, turning to face her, looking down at her with large, deep brown eyes and holding out a giant hand in friendship.

"Tarik the Red, at your service, Ma'am, should you need it. Perhaps for now I could stand by your side to discourage other such crass brutes from harassing you?" His voice was deep, as befitted such a massive chest, but with a permanent undertone of amusement.

He looked at the crush of bodies around the nearest exit ramp and chuckled. "I was planning to wait until the crowd had died down, but if you are in a hurry you'll find me quite adept at clearing a path - though from the way you move I suspect you can slip though a crush without much effort yourself."
 
Scully knew how to move with a crowd. He carefully wove himself forward into the line and though he wasn't the first to get off, he didn't have to wait long. He went through the paperwork, retrieved his daggers including his precious Katerina and soon stood with a small crowd in the courtyard waiting for the coming lecture. He took the opportunity to survey the crowd. He had never been outside his home city and now he had to familiarize himself with a new and foreign surrounding. He felt out of his element. So he scanned the people and his surroundings, taking volumes of mental notes as he went along. It was like casing a target on a larger scale.
 
Lexy was having a hard time of it. She grumbled to herself as she was shoved, battered and bruised by the swaying crowd. The front stayed solid as the back surged forward or the whole crowd piled to the right, causing her to stumble and nearly lose her footing. Going down now would not be fun.

She felt the ramp beneath her feet, and then all to soon it was solid ground. Elation filled her heart, she was finally back on ground. The crowd managed to disperse a little as everyone qued for the weapon booths, making her a little more comfortable. She kept her head down as she passed the sneering man her boarding ticket and accepted her weapons back. Her cruel sickle slotted in place by her hip and a brace of darts slung over a shoulder.

Then came the questions. The man raised an eyebrow when she said her profession was Druid but wrote it down dutifully and she signed her name. The crowd was big again, and not wishing to be crushed, she found a place to the side to watch the address.
 
“I can handle my own,” Kat said simply as she went, weaving her way through the crowd with ease. She halted at the large man stood infront of her and offered his hand. The smaller catfolk easily reached for the large hand and shook it politely, offering a gentle nod of her head in turn, which caused several loose strands of crimson to fall about her beautiful visage.

“Well met Tarik the Red,” She said in that same singsong voice, her amber gaze taking in the big man for a brief moment. “You can call me Kat. You needn’t trouble yourself with the burden of watching over me. Sad to say you might find it rather boring.” She tilted her head and offered a rather adorable smile, the light catching those slitted amber orbs and setting them aflame again.

“I need to gather my things before I make my escape. No doubt I will see you again though, Tarik the Red. You are hard to miss. May The Everlight smile upon you,” She offered another wink that seemed to promise more (or did it?) before she took her leave; easily slipping through the crowd where a larger creature would not. She did not so much as move the crowd as weave about it, a subtle and graceful dance that lead her to her own modest lodgings. The rather free and alluring attire was replaced by a bodysuit of black material that clung greedily to every inch of her frame. She wriggled it until her tail poked through the tiny opening in the back. Only then did she slip on her shirt of mithral links, so small and light it barely made a noise at all. The rest of her gear was stuffed into her leather backpack and slung over her shoulder. A red scarf with golden embroidery was wrapped about her neck and shoulders as well, the subtle influence of Sarenrae’s teachings and icons in the stitching. She made for the entrance, slipping into the throng of people once more before she emerged onto the pier and for the first time took in her surroundings.

She waited in line and collected her weapons. A dagger, a gauntlet lined with fearsome spikes along the back of the hand and knuckles, and last but not least her scimitar. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, its blade gilded and when drawn shone like the sun. Content to have her weapon at her side once more Kat resigned herself to yet another line. She answered their questions as she saw fit.

“Entertainer,” She said with a smile and a knowing look. She took the quill and wrote her name elegantly and even scribbled a smile beside it. It was only after such as she gathered in the courtyard did she notice the young elf with a sickle. Without thinking she moved closer and took in her scent, her nostrils flaring as she let out a sigh.

“Forgive me for being so forward,” She said in that lovely tone to the young druidess. “But your armor smells just lovely. Are those real leaves? Can I touch them?” Her ears perked forward and she spoke with the eagerness of a kitten. Her look was curious and genuine, as those that came to meet Kat found out all too quickly she wore her true intentions on her sleeve. “Oh. I’ve lost my manners on that dreadful ride here. Before I go groping I should at least introduce myself. I am Kat...and you are?”
 
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