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Post by songsofinfinity on Dec 31, 2017 20:41:32 GMT -6
- Thin Line To Walk -
Characters Eshana, Ithran
Location King's Pier, a small market near the sea
Time of Day midafternoon
Weather Sunny skies with a few puffy clouds, a soft breeze off the sea |
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Post by songsofinfinity on Dec 31, 2017 21:47:17 GMT -6
__________________________
"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | VindicatorIthran walked along the pier towards the stalls which lined the street a short distance away. The streets were filled with merchants and shoppers talking in loud voices about everything from the price of fruit to trade relations with Serora to the weather. It was strange to be in such a large city after so long spent in the Onean wilderness with
Ithran was in disguise as Maera, a trader, so he wouldn't attract the attention of every Chevalier in the area. It would probably cause quite a stir if a horse involved in the biggest attack in recent Valorean history suddenly showed up in the city. 'Maera' was a trader and Aodh citizen with a solid brown coat and solid cream mane and tail. She wore her mane long, which meant Ithran had had to take a hair growth potion. Maera also favored elaborate hairdos, so his mane was tied up in an intricate series of braids running down his neck, ending in a fancy twist at his withers. He'd also borrowed a nice scarf from one of the other Vindicators, and was wearing his saddlebags, which he'd shined and oiled for the occasion. All in all, he thought he looked pretty good. No one would see him and think of the scruffy Vindicator who'd attacked the Crucible roughly two years before.
He wasn't here to reminisce about the past, though. He and Eshana had entered the city separately to avoid notice, and had planned to meet up here. She was a little late. Not enough for him to be nervous, not yet, but still he couldn't keep himself from worrying. What if she'd been caught? It would be near-impossible for him to free her by himself without backup.
They were in the city on a mission to contact as many smugglers and sympathizers with the Vindicator cause as they could. In fact, they had a meeting with a smuggler tonight, at a seedy tavern near the waterfront and the warehouses where the ships unloaded. There were some hours left until that meeting, and Eshana had mentioned showing him around the city. If she ever showed up.
Ithran scanned the crowd again, shifting anxiously from side to side. Where could she be? Post Count: 1 | Word Count: 410
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Post by Mad-Manx on Jan 25, 2018 20:27:51 GMT -6
Eshana vagabond | vindicator "Strong but exhausted."
Post: #1 | Word Count: 610Six months since she stepped hood within the city's limits.
Six months since she had fled at Godric's heels, at long last leaving behind her gilded prison.
Six months... And she didn't regret a moment of it. Even at the risk of her life, leaving this place had been among the best decisions she had made in an awful long time.
Extravagant and alluring as Valore was, from experience Eshana knew the darkness that festered in the streets, the blood that was spilled in order to maintain the city's appealing facade. There was some good that dwelled there, certainly, hidden away within the hearts of generous Flamens and doctors alike, but even then it existed in pockets few and far between. The city of fire was a marvelous place for the wealthy and the affluential, but for the countless less fortunate folk, it was a ruthless place. There was no sense of comradery in business, not when profit was on the line. The equines of Aodh truly were fickle, merciless creatures, loyal only to their money and their god of fire.
It felt odd to be walking the streets as a free individual, cloaked in the disguise of a civilian. She had had plenty of time to memorize many faces in the three years she had walked these very streets in chains, and with the aid of her blessing it had been easy enough to slip through the city's defences. Even with their tightened security since the Crucible attack and then her and her fellow labour slaves escape, the Chevaliers were groomed to identify ragged Vegabonds, not one of their own citizens. A few lightly probing questions and she was through, striding through familiar streets through an utterly unfamiliar perspective. She could only hope Ithran had just as much luck as she did.
Her disguise was that of a winged, red dun stallion, the borrowed form a Chevalier Eshana had had the displeasure of meeting years earlier. Possessing a foul enough temper that those who did recognize him would surely keep their distance, it seemed a perfect way to enter the city undetected, avoiding unwanted attention from the locals. Besides, Chevaliers did have power here. Should herself and Ithran get into a bind, her disguise would perhaps buy them one more chance to escape without being recognized for their true purpose, and their true identities. The Aodhian people were not particularly fond of the Vindicators, after all.
Weaving through the streets at a leisurely pace, Eshana was intent on showing little sign of her desire to hurry through the cobblestone paths as she sought out her partner and the informants they were attempting to contact. In broad daylight there were plenty of commoners on the streets, both buying and selling a myriad of goods, and avoiding drawing unnecessary attention from any of them was among her top priorities. It meant going a little slower than she would have preferred, but before long Eshana found herself near the meeting place they had agreed on.
Swiveling her head around to survey the crowd, it was with a hint of relief that Eshana spotted the familiar figure of Ithran, currently disguised as Maera, glancing about the crowd; no doubt searching for any sign of her. With purposeful movements she carried herself to his side, feigning interest in a few glittering trinkets that were on display in the market stall alongside him. Allowing her golden eyes to stray to him, intending to say something in order to reveal her true nature to him, though the words felt strange even when coming from a foreign mouth.
"And what brings you down to the market today?"
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