|
|
Post by Griever on Jun 12, 2011 21:08:39 GMT -5
The Realm of Eternal Rain. It was an apt title for this place. Water poured unceasingly from the ever-grey sky, running in tiny rivers down the architecture, blurring the view through the window's panels of glass; it collected between the courtyard stones outside, splashed in the fountain, drummed on the roof somewhere above so that the entire inn was filled, despite the soft hum of voices, with a gentle and distant rumbling. Runalin turned his eyes back to the table in front of him and the flickering candle there, reaching into a case at his waist and spreading the map he removed from there onto the table with a slight troubled frown. Not far to Kazham now, if it was correct, though that was something he couldn't be entirely certain of. Accurate maps were difficult to find since the Merge, though this one hadn't yet led him astray.
Perhaps the mithra would know something. For nearly a year, he'd wandered the world and its countless strange new places, trying to find the reason Vana'diel had been ripped apart and scattered across these unfamiliar continents, thrown among places that had never existed to them before. He'd found nothing. No whisper, no rumor, not a single witness to what had happened. Nothing but idle speculation.
He was chasing smoke.
The tall Elvaan rolled the map back up and replaced it in its case, then with a faint sigh, leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The strain of his long search was beginning to show in the deep-seated weariness that settled into his face, leaving faint dark smudges around his eyes and pressing his brows just a little closer together; and beyond the physical, it manifested as something much worse - doubt. The more he looked, the harder he tried, the more it seemed the entire effort was futile.
Futility and failure were far too much alike, and his pride resented them both. Suddenly restless, he rose from his chair, tossed several gil coins down in payment, and walked past one dimly lit table after another until he reached the door.
The air held a faint, damp chill, and in contrast to the warm darkness within, everything outside seemed a shifting, monochrome grey. The drumming of the rain became a rush as it struck every conceivable level and surface within the courtyard, a chorus almost of tiered sound.
Chasing smoke. There was no way to catch it. But he could find it, at least - or keep looking until he'd exhausted his will to try.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cloud on Jun 13, 2011 4:01:40 GMT -5
Rain soaked and freezing cold, Nadim wanted nothing more than to relax beside a fire with his feet up, snacking on his favorite dish of sheep steak; but that was just a pipe dream given the situation. The cloaked and hooded mithra traveled down side streets and alleyways, keeping his profile low to avoid any unwanted attention. What he was about to do did not rank very high on his list of moral choices, but he did what he had to do to keep moving on. One cannot travel without gil. Soon he found himself coming up on a courtyard, doors dotting the surrounding structures. Aside from a lone figure, the area was deserted. Seizing this opportunity before anyone else showed, Nadim entered the courtyard. Passing the Elvaan without paying him any attention, he walked up to one of the doors; slipping a lock-pick out from his sleeve and sticking it into the keyhole. What would look like to anyone else someone fumbling with their key, Nadim was able to quickly pick the lock and entered the closed business before catching notice from several people exiting the inn.
Quickly turning over the place, Nadim scoured every drawer, cabinet and cupboard; taking anything small enough to carry but still have enough value to make it worth his while. Typically he was much more respectful, despite what he was doing, but being that it was still light out, he figured his time was short before the owner was to return. Problem with experienced thieves is that their best intuition was correct, because before he could finish up and make it back out the door, the shop owner returned. Freezing in place, Nadim found himself trapped on the second floor in a storage room. The easiest way out was now definitely out of the question, leaving just a window that overlooked the courtyard. The loud commotion downstairs quieted slightly as excited voices now turned into rapidly ascending footsteps up the creaky stairs. Realizing that he was out of time, the thief bolted forward towards the window, and in one fluid motion he leaped through the glass and skidded across the roof; barely able to grab onto the ledge before going over to the stone path below.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” He cursed under his breath as his mind raced to find a way out of this situation. Taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, Nadim decided let go of the ledge just as the owner reached the now empty window frame, peering out to see only the tall man who would have obviously not fit through the window. “Aye…, that was too close!” Glancing up, he saw that his statement was very true. A second later and he would’ve been caught red handed. He hated cities, too many people, too many eyes. Sure an honest profession would have been preferred over this pitiful excuse of making a living; but with his status among certain circles, it was just too risky. Quickly he leaped over a small wall and briskly walked towards the far side of the courtyard. Halfway there it dawned on him that he was not going to disappear out of sight in time. Desperate for a place to keep out of sight, a place to blend in, Nadim sidestepped behind the tall Elvaan and leaned up against his back, tilting his head down slightly to hide his face. “I don’t normally do this…” Making sure to keep his voice low enough only for the Elvaan to hear, Nadim didn’t care if he gave a verbal reply or not. As long as the stranger kept quiet, things would work themselves out and he could get out of there. “…but there is a thousand gil with your name on it if you just play along. Once the owner leaves, we head to the north side of the city and I can pay you then. If not, things could get very messy….” Was it a threat against the mage? Possibly, not that Nadim wanted to attack any one. Even in his own eyes, everyone but himself would be innocent
|
|
|
|
Post by Griever on Jun 20, 2011 1:13:58 GMT -5
"You're a long way from Windurst, Mithra."
Runalin's voice was as quiet as the thief's. He was quite still, calm despite the subtle threat as the Burmecian shop owner rushed out the door, glanced quickly about at the shards of glass littering the stones, and turned at a run into the nearest side street. His silver eyes followed the ratlike man even as his attention turned backward, then finally, assessing the situation, he let his hand drop from the hilt of his sword. This was not a time for bloodshed. Certainly not when there was much more to be gained from compliance.
The thief, after all, was far from an ordinary cut purse. It wasn't that he recognized him, exactly, not with the way he hid himself. But Runalin had spent plenty of time among the race of hunters, knew well the peculiarities of their speech and accent, and, more importantly, the rarity of one like him. Mithra men were famous by birth, their names spoken from Gha Naboh to Mhaura, and far too important for the chieftanesses of their lands to concede to their running about the world on a whim as an adventurer might. This one was no exception.
Slowly, with an air of caution, he stepped away from his place near the inn doorway and full into the rain, leading the way out of the courtyard, into one of the many winding streets that carved their way through the domed and gilded Burmecian architecture. His steps were slow, careful, as nonchalant as ever, but he took care to observe everything with his eyes and his ears, watchful for any sign of pursuit or suspicion. No warning had been issued, however, and the few residents that made their way through the rain were indifferent to the passing of a pair of traveling strangers. Finally the street curved into a quiet alley before coming to the archway that marked the city's exit, and here, away from too-curious eyes, Runalin stopped abruptly. He turned toward the mithra, and a small flame flared about his hand, turning the rain to steam around it.
"I don't want your gil." He let the fire die off, not wanting to threaten, but only to warn. "I'll take answers. Why is it the Mithra prince is resorting to petty thievery? I have my doubts that Perih Vashai gives her approval."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cloud on Jun 22, 2011 1:48:38 GMT -5
Nadim was slightly taken aback by the Elvaan’s ability to deduce his race, but that wasn’t because of any bias towards his new acquaintance. Since the merge, no one has been able to figure out his identity in any part, people from Vana'diel have been far and few in-between. Listening to the shop keeper run off in search for the man who had stolen his property, the Mithra let out a sigh of relief as the sound of his hurried footsteps quickly faded off into the distance. “Aren’t we all a long way from what is familiar?” There was a hint of bitterness in his tone that gave away his feelings about the merge, but made no further effort to elaborate as he followed the tall Elvaan out of the city.
Once out of prying eyes, Nadim watched as the Elvaan confronted him about his actions, using a bit of magic to drive home the point that he was indeed not messing about. Not wanting gil was intriguing, not something people would normally pass up; granted the offered amount was nothing substantial. Answers? That was not something Nadim wanted to give up easily. Secrecy has kept him out of trouble and away from those who were searching for him. Nevertheless, this Elvaan seemed knowledgeable in Mithra. Getting away without answering even this simple inquiry would probably be next to impossible.
“The reason this prince steals is of his own, nothing an Elvaan needs to worry himself over.” Reaching up, Nadim slowly lowered his hood, looking slightly curious as he cocked his head to the side. “As you’ve probably figured out, I am the one they’ve been searching for. Perih Vashai wishes for my return, but we all can’t have what we seek, now can we?” The Mithra took a step back from the Elvaan, putting a little distance between the two, his foot sinking into the muck beneath his feet. Nadim was on edge, that much would be obvious to the man standing before him. It was understandable for someone in his position, but no doubt unnerving to someone who can’t see all the weapons being carried by the Mithra. “Killing you would be a very large blow to my conscious, so what is it that I can do to keep your mouth shut?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Griever on Aug 31, 2011 2:38:23 GMT -5
Well, this was an...interesting turn of events, to say the least. Months of travel since he'd last set foot in a Vana'diel town, and here Runalin found himself face to face with a rarity even among them. Hardly what he'd expected from this rain-soaked village. The elvaan spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture, removing them from the vicinity of his sword - futile, perhaps, after the show of his magic, but it was more about intention than effect.
"I don't think there's going to be any killing," he replied calmly, even as he assessed the mithra's movements for any hint of a threat. "I don't want to fight you...Nadim, isn't it?" Lowering his hands, he took a step forward, slowly, disarmingly. With the information presented, it wasn't hard to guess at the stranger's identity. There were few of his kind in the world, and even fewer abroad - and Runalin always made sure to keep an ear to the ground for any rumor he could use.
Unfortunately, it never seemed to be the kind he was after.
That sparked an idea. "I have no interest in returning you to Windurst. It doesn't affect me either way if you go back or keep running." He was close, now, and he stopped in place, lowering his hands. "You can believe me, or you can let this turn very messy, very quickly. Personally, I'd like to avoid the trouble." His cautious air relaxed slightly, and he glanced up at the still-falling rain with a faintly irritated expression. "I'd just like to get out of this and be on my way. If you don't trust me, then come with me. Keep an eye on me yourself, if it makes you feel better. If nothing else, we can exchange whatever information we have. You know as well as I do how valuable that can be lately."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cloud on Sept 1, 2011 2:07:16 GMT -5
Nadim raised an eye brow at the mention of his name; nothing escaped this one. That could spell trouble for him later if things didn’t turn out on the up and up. Moving as carefully as the Elvaan, he let his hands rest at his side, clearly visible to avoid any suspicion of foul play. The Elvaan moved in closer, putting Nadim at a big disadvantage with the risk of being physically overpowered. “Yes, that is my name. I had already assumed that you knew it by mentioning my bloodline.” His tone was sharp and untrusting, more in less suspicious. Pausing for a moment, he took a few steps away from the other; their close proximity was making him nervous. “You must travel to Windurst often; you seem to know a lot about the Mithra. Nevertheless, there is nothing there for me any longer. Despite what they say, I can’t go back.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to get them warm. The rain was cold and harsh; the idea of leaving was more than welcome. Glancing towards the Elvaan he had to make a choice. If he truly wanted to turn him in, or at least report a sighting, he wouldn’t have said that he could tag along. Of course there was the off chance that it was a trick, but there was a hint of sincerity that he couldn’t overlook. I’ll go with you, but it isn’t because I want to make sure that you don’t rat me out. People from our lands are hard to come by, I almost have no choice but to trust you since there is no one else worthy of my trust.”
Whistling loudly off into the distance, Nadim called for his soon to appear pet chocobo, Haja. She has been with him since the merge, rescued by the Mithra out from under a pile of rubble that had buried her up to her neck. Nadim nursed her back to life and now she is as strong and healthy as ever before. The large brilliant bird walked up behind Nadim and rested her head on his shoulder while greeting him with a soft chirp, well a chirp by chocobo standards. “This is Haja, she is my protector as I am hers. We’ve known one another ever since the merge happened.” Nadim looked away from the chocobo and back to the Elvaan.
“I would very much like to leave this place. It is depressing, cold and wet. Food here tastes like mud and they have nothing of value to me. But before we leave, I’d like to know your name, since you knew mine before we were ever introduced; I think it is reasonable for me to ask. “ While he waited for a reply, Nadim went to work unloading the ‘spoils’ of his visit into various packs strapped to the chocobo’s saddle along with putting various weapons into their places.
|
|
