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Post by Zugunruhes on May 4, 2018 16:01:48 GMT -6
Kalyan
To the untrained eye, the sprawling wastelands just beyond the tiny hub that marked The Point appeared equal parts hostile and dull. A sea of tawny grasses stretched to the horizon, harboring not a single tree nor flowering bush as the little village in its center did. The Point was well cultivated, meant to stand out among the sparse grasslands that supposedly grew nothing other than dry weeds. But there were some horses who knew better. Through knowledge passed down between generations of farmers, to advice offered between friendly traders, tales circulated that useful herbs could be found within the meadows, growing low to the ground, and often leeching nutrients from the taller grasses that stole their sunlight.
Even rarer was word on the fauna and flora that called home the odd caves and crevices spread throughout the vast-lands. Most sights were often avoided, for the caves were not suitable for living in, shaped only by the elements rather than the careful hooves of Breim miners. Worse were the the crevices, that could swallow up a horse whole, yet remain seemingly invisible underneath the gently waving grasses.
Once a year, or twice if the weather was fair and no rumors of dangerous vagabonds traveled from The Point to the Breim horses living underground, Kalyan would venture to the surface. Armed with guides depicting colorful illustrations of unusual herbs and insects, and the knowledge given to him by traders from the outside, Kalyan would wander the meadows and odd caves in search of oddities for his collection, and new medicinal plants for his experimental potions. He always bartered with the traders when they came to Sterling, but he longed to discover things for himself. And the traders did not always bring the herbs and insects he looked for, some even staring blankly at the illustrations in his pics when he asked about them.
Kalyan spent his first night at The Point enjoying the village, swapping stories with the locals and stocking up on any last minute gear. He was not a superstitious horse, but he took to heart the wisdom and experience of the Breim horses who lived above ground. They were equally wary of the vast-lands, and quick to offer advice on what places were so saturated with hidden crevices and caves that he should avoid them at all costs. By now he had developed a rudimentary map, that some of the locals added to with their own stories and sketches, and would return to the same cluster of small, relatively-safe caves. These were often host to odd fungi and low growing mosses, as well as strange, sightless invertebrates, and he rarely returned home without a new specimen.
He left the next day early in the morning, eager to return to the village well before sunset. The path he took was a common route to The Point and therefore relatively worn down. The grasses grew lower and were splayed to the sides to accompany the many passerby over the years. Kalyan would stop to check his map now and then, and to compare sketches and notes to the trail markers and signals. The sun was still creeping into the sky, casting a pale, pink and yellow glow over the landscape. A low hum emanated from the grass as insects arose to the warmth on their wings and meandered lazily through the grasses, feeding on stalks and seeds. For all that was said of the dangers of the vast-lands, the meadows were the village was still in clear sight seemed almost.. Kalyan paused, looking for the right word. Habitable was not quite it, for he would never give up life in Sterling to be a farmer on the surface. But it was beautiful, in a rare way one could only appreciate by seeming the grasses bathed in the morning light.
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Post by Deleted on May 20, 2018 18:42:39 GMT -6
esmae | vagabond | vindicator | Specialist ❝ When Esmae decided to head out, she had gone out much further than she intended. Often, she would venture out of the Bunker to travel about. Whether it be for a mission or purely for her own interest. The only caution was to not get caught. Especially with the high tensions running about. However, when she noticed her supply of herbs and ingredients was dwindling too low for her comfort, she sought out to acquire them. Unfortunately, half of those ingredients could only be collected in Sirith. The downsides of being a healer, she supposed. Unlike other herds, she couldn’t trade other items nor have another’s wares imported to the Bunker. Besides, with Winter finally making its way out and Spring taking its place, life was beginning to grow once more upon the surface. How could she resist being up on the surface instead of underneath it, hiding away? It was a better time than ever to stretch her legs. It had taken her a couple days to reach the Point. Especially since she was having to travel on foot and near the Aodhian border to get to Sirith. It wasn’t like she wanted to swim over either from Onea. The scenery was somewhat familiar to her, gently reminding her of her journey from Sedo to Southern Onea. Back then, she had a herd of bards and travelers to venture with. Now, she was on her own. Pinning her dark ears back, she mused, I should’ve brought a mercenary or another Vindicator with me. Maybe then she wouldn’t be such an easy target to rob. Not that she had much to give. On the fourth night, Esmae finally reached her destination. The Point. By the time she did, by Alya, she was starving. Checking herself in one of the inns available, she had ordered a hot meal and a room for one for at least two nights. Afterward, it didn’t take long for her to scarf down the meal and retire to bed. In the early morning, she had set off again. Only this time, she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She even had a schedule planned out. Which was likely that she wasn’t going to follow either way. It’s the thought that counts, right? If she swung by the marketplace at this time of day, it would definitely be too early for any equines to open their shops and stalls. So, why not look for the ingredients herself? With a talent for herbalism and a sharp eye, she quickly matched herbs by appearances rather than names. Especially since she didn’t know how to read. Following along the main trail, she quickly spotted a couple of trails breaking away into the plains. A few signs stood tall above the ground, etched with markings. Glancing about, she stepped off the dirt road onto one of the smaller ones. Hells, maybe she could find some more specimens to observe. Craning her head up to the sky, she took note of the dawning light that spread across the horizon. It was why this was her favorite time of day. There was even dew that rested on the blades of grass, lying undisturbed. Distantly, a faint rustle sounded from her left, catching her attention. Swerving one ear in the direction, Esmae looked at the tall grasses with a tilted head. Is someone there? Hesitantly, she put one hoof forward before walking over. It seemed that she had only returned to the main road. Her stature held high, she spotted a spotted dark stallion. Blinking with slight surprise, she studied him for a moment. He didn’t seem imposing. The man only seemed spaced out, if anything. While standing a good yard or two away from him, she faced him from behind. Should she say hello..? Well, it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Stepping forward, she parted through the grasses that gradually grew lower and lower. Giving a shake of her mane, she called out, “Hello! You lost?” That was a good start, right? Hopefully, he wasn’t skittish. Or worse, dangerous.
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Post by Zugunruhes on May 30, 2018 19:46:17 GMT -6
Kalyan
An odd butterfly rested upon the tangled leaves of a low-lying scrub bush ahead, its bronze wings vibrant against the dull green vegetation. A pale, buff trim laced the edges of the wing tips and spiraled around blotchy eye-marks that stared sightlessly deep into Kalyan’s curious gaze. As he stared out across the distant fields, the gentle fluttering of its wings had caught his eye and attention. For a long moment, he watched it with bated breath, knowing that if he chanced getting closer the butterfly would probably flee without a moment’s hesitation. Though it would make a handsome specimen for his collection, he was more interested in sketching it first and consulting the books back at home. He shuffled ever-so-slightly closer, removing his notebook from his pack with his teke, aware that even the slightest sound could send the specimen fluttering far out of reach. The butterfly did not move even as his book snapped open, but just as he leaned closer the grasses behind him called a greeting- The notebook clattered to the ground, its fall cushioned by the soft column of grass, while the butterfly took to the skies with a few flicks of its wings. Kalyan whirled around, fumbling with his pack to close it before anything else spilled out. Despite the friendliness of the voice, he had either expected a familiar Breim farmer, or the unknown face of a brutish vagabond, massive and leering. The butterfly was all but forgotten, and he was now focused on a mental tirade of berating himself for letting himself get snuck up on- The Point was still well in sight, but any horse that wasn’t a familiar trader of Breim farmer was to be met with utter suspicion. And yet, the mare facing him now looked like anything but a murderous thief or dastardly rogue. “I…” His gaze roved over her distractedly, checking for the sign of any blood-stained blades or other objects that could be used against him in a flash of silver. He did not recognize this horse as a local of the village, nor as a trader he had met before. Even those horses he still kept on cordial terms with, but he never had forgotten a face in the past. He stared for far longer than would be accepted towards another Breimian, for even if he could not glean anything about her from it, maybe it would make him seem all the more intimidating. But she was not watching him with hostile eyes – if anything it was if she was waiting patiently for an answer. “Come again?” He said at last, remembering she had said something and he’d completely missed it while staring dumbfounded down at that lost butterfly. “Was… observing a butterfly specimen and did not hear what you were saying. A, um, rare butterfly.” Kalyan felt the odd need to justify that. He felt around with his teke until he located the notebook and slowly, making sure to the stranger that it was clear he wasn’t picking up a weapon from the grass, he lifted the journal and slid it back into his pack. If he could get out of this situation unscathed, he wouldn’t dream of leaving the journal behind. Anyway, he had risked his neck for knowledge before. “You’re not from the Point, are you?” It was better to ask at once, rather than dance around the subject. He flicked a glance back at the small circle of houses just beyond on the main road, where distant shapes were starting to stir. Somewhere in the fields beyond the mare, he could make out the shape of a farmer and their youngster padding towards their fields. Though distant, even the sight of the specks of Breim horses comforted him, and he let his coiled shoulders relax a hair.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2018 8:39:15 GMT -6
esmae | vagabond | vindicator | Specialist ❝ The stallion nearly jumped out of his skin the moment she called out to him. It could be amusing to a bystander from the comedic way he was startled. As he whirled around, she flinched, blinking with surprise. That was sudden? The chirping of the birds and the faint buzz of insects signified the early morning. Meanwhile, the fair butterfly made its getaway, her gaze followed it to the skies. Watching it disappear, she looked back to her newfound encounter. Tilting her head, she waited for his answer. As he spoke the first time, her dark ears pricked forward. “Hmm? Oh, don’t worry, I don’t bite. Well, at least sometimes.” She jested with a small playful wink. Most equines had to have a sense of humor, right? Plus, it wouldn't hurt if it put him at ease as well.
“Are you lost?” She repeated, furrowing her brow. From the looks of it, he was well packed even if he was lost. With saddlebag thick with supplies, she figured he could camp out for a couple days and still be fine. Listening attentively, she gave a small gasp. Curiosity sparked in her eyes, recalling the small butterfly that had flitted away. “Rare?” A tang of disappointed dampened her mood at his words. Damn, she would’ve liked to see the butterfly too. Especially, since it was rare. It wasn't like you had an everyday chance to spot a rare butterfly. Especially when you're cramped in an underground bunker for most of your days except for given missions. Stepping forward, Esmae began to reach for his notebook before he managed to pick it up. Albeit, slowly. With a one-shouldered shrug, she apologized with a grin.“Sorry for scaring you. I know I can be quite terrifying.” Amusement tinted her tone as she teased him. A chuckle escaped her at her jest. She very well knew she was anything but. It was something her fellow companions liked to remind her of including her childishness. Compared to other Vindicators, riddled with scars and battle stories, she was like the cadets that ran amok in the Bunker. “Nope!” Popping the end letter, she looked over the stallion. A Breimian, maybe? “Question is, are you? From the Point, I mean.” Arching a brow, she redirected his question to back to him. Following his gaze, she peered over her shoulder to spot the family. It was the crack of dawn yet they were out, working the fields. Now that’s what she called dedication. In Sedo, other farmers did something similar before the heat of day caught them.
Glancing back to him, she chirped, “So, what was in that small book of yours? Magical spells, wicked curses?” Her tone was light-hearted, not that she would actually mind if her words were true. He didn't look like the type to cast a powerful spell over an innocent equine. Even if he was a great wizard. Then, a wave of realization came over her. Adding to her previous inquiry, she questioned. “Besides, what are you doing out here anyway, butterfly hunter?” From the looks of it, maybe he was a researcher? Scientist? Most Bohemians valued knowledge and intellect from what she gathered. “If you’re studying butterflies, wouldn't it be better to catch them? You know, with a net?” Isn't that what the children did? Run in the plentiful fields with makeshift nets, chasing small insects and various creatures? She remembered doing the same, except with the more deadlier creatures of the desert. The childhood memories warmed her, as she stood in front of the stallion.
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Post by Zugunruhes on Jun 13, 2018 19:19:36 GMT -6
The suspicious instinct in his gut wrestled with curiosity as he continued to stare at the stranger with guarded eyes. Perhaps a proper Breimian would not engage her for longer than a few polite words and a succinct goodbye, but Kalyan held a certain displeasure towards those customs. Any time in his life he was told not to do something, his immediate impulse was to ask why out of both genuine curiosity and puerile rebellious streak. And so despite years of being told to avoid a stranger’s eye, now upon seeing one he wanted to know everything about her- she probably had not spent her whole life underground confined to the tunnels and old customs. Likely, she knew much more about the surface than he did. And so, despite the nervous fluttering of his heart telling him to turn tail and head back down the familiar path to The Point, he held his ground and answered her questions. “Terrifying? I was expecting a mercenary drawing a blood-stained blade at my throat.” It took him a moment, but then he caught onto her humor and obliged, grateful she wasn’t drawing on his embarrassment. “Not that we get that sort of people around here, but most Breimians don’t wander far from our tunnels and consider the farms around this village the limit. I just… happened to be following that butterfly-” He cast another wistful look up, but could not find its brilliant wings in the bright skies above. He would find it another day. Or it truly was the only one of its kind. Some odd color morph or the last of another surface species, utterly mysterious to a citizen of the underground. He considered for a long moment whether he should lie. Telling her that he hailed from The Point might make him feel slightly more secure, but he was never the best at spinning falsehoods on the spot and she hardly seemed interested in snatching his valuables. Although he had noticed her eyes straying on his notebook. But that seemed more out of an eager curiosity that he well understood. Everything he considered valuable in that book- months of notes and sketches, was only a fortune to certain horses. “No, I’m not either. I suppose that makes the both of us strangers here? I’m a tunnel-dweller by birth, but have always been interested in the surface. They tell me it’s dangerous, and yet I find myself up here all too often. Got a knack for getting myself into trouble, it seems.” His tone was light, growing friendlier as he mustered an odd sense of courage talking to the mare. It wasn’t as though speaking with strangers was not allowed, especially for horses at The Point, but something about it gave him a strange thrill. She wasn’t speaking with the usual formalness of his people, and seemed genuinely interested in his odd hobby. If anything, it was exciting. He drew out the notebook from his pack and offered it to her, opening it upon a page that depicted sketches and near-indecipherable notes of a large praying mantis. “I’m afraid it’s far less interesting than a magic book. Take a look if you like! It’s a.. a bit of a log of everything insect I see up here- I make my rounds to the surface a few times of year, you see, to collect herbs and-“ He realized he was starting to ramble and started over. “I’m a doctor by trade, and living underground means some herbs don’t come easy. I like to visit The Point to barter with traders and townsfolk for my supplies first hand. Gets me more honest prices and the best stock. After a while I started visiting the fields out of habit and then.. well, collecting and describing all the odd things I find.” He let her look through the notebook as she liked, growing excited by the prospective of anyone who might be interested in all his messy diagrams and notes. Unbeknownst to him, most of the species he had described were a more common sight for the average surface-dweller, unknown only to those who spent their life in the underground cities. He scuffed the ground awkwardly with one hoof, “Most of the time I do only sketch them, unless I can verify that it’s a common species. So I haven’t quite… perfected a butterfly technique or net, so to speak.”
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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2018 16:15:01 GMT -6
esmae | vagabond | vindicator | Specialist ❝ An amused snort escaped her at his claim. Much to his fortune, Esmae was no such thing. By the looks of it, there wasn’t much to rob him of anyway. Raising a curious brow, she listened attentively. No wonder she didn’t spot many Breimians on her way down to Sirith. Most of them remained underground, didn’t they? Following his glance up to the sky, she took note of the sun, which had fully risen. Cracking a smile, she nodded, “Well, hello stranger. I think it’s only fair I introduce myself. Name’s Esmae.” With a one-shouldered shrug, she chirped, “Bah, the surface isn’t all that scary when you know you’re way around. Best you find someone to keep you out of trouble though,” she jested. She was a Vagabond after all. A Vindicator to add onto that. Of course, there would be more danger in the wilderness than most equines would encounter. “Best of both worlds, you see? A surface and tunnel dweller, so-” Cutting herself off once he offered his book to her, her eyes sparked with genuine curiosity. It was worn, likely from all the years of use. When he opened the leather cover to reveal a sketch of a large praying mantis, her golden eyes grew round as saucers. Glancing back up at him as he began to ramble, she paid not much mind to it. Flipping through the pages of various creatures he discovered, she found herself in more and more awe. The detail he put forth in his work even though she saw most of these creatures before. There were even a couple fireflies on one page. Besides, his pencil etchings were far more superior than hers. Not that she used a pencil for most of her art. In her teenage years, it was mostly wild splashes of paint and vivid colors. In contrast to hers, his work was mellow and exact. Needless to say, she liked it. Even if she couldn’t discern his writings. Not like she could read it anyway. “You’re a doctor? Seriously? Today is my lucky day. I’m a healer as well.” Lifting her head up, she remarked, “Plus, your drawings are awesome, look at them! Could I get an autograph?” She gushed, a glimmer of playfulness shining in her eyes. Swerving her dark ears forward, she watched as he scuffed the ground with his hoof as if he was embarrassed. A chuckle escaped her at the sight before she murmured. “Alright, butterfly hunter. Maybe next time, I can tag along on your little adventures. Those butterflies won’t stand a chance, now will they?” She was practically beaming as she said so. Letting out a small hum of acknowledgment, she suggested, “Maybe you could catch them in a glass jar so they won’t fly away next time. Y’know, just in case if someone like me catches you off guard. Then, release them later.” Easier said than done. Despite this, it was worth a shot. A grin, she nudged his shoulder good-naturedly and gestured back to the marketplaces that rested at the Point. “I don’t know if you can tell but I’m not around these parts. Never been underground either.” A bald-faced lie. Esmae had been in the Bunker plenty times enough now that it was basically home to her. For her, home was always where the heart was. “Since you know your way around, want to show me some tricks of the trade? There are some herbs and roots only native to Sirith so it’s why I usually come around here. Especially since the ground is so fertile here.” Compared to Sedo’s dry grounds, it was nearly ripe for life. Chiming in, she added, “I rather get my full money’s worth than getting ripped off, you know?”
Holding his notebook with her honey-colored teke, she shifted it in her grip unconsciously. Blinking in realization, she glanced down onto the notebook she held in her grasp. “Oh! Sorry! Here.” Handing it back over to him, her face warmed slightly in embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she forgot it was his. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a notebook of my own but if I did, I think I would order one like yours.” She murmured with a small smile, giving a small tilt of her head. “So, what now, butterfly hunter?” If she did say so herself, she was quite taken with his new nickname she came up for him.
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Post by Zugunruhes on Jun 21, 2018 20:01:41 GMT -6
Kalyan
“I’m Kalyan- though you may call me butterfly-catcher or hunter if you like. A name like that would keep away any bloody-stained rogues for miles.” His eyes sparkled in merriment, catching a glint of the bright morning rays. How nice it was, to speak with someone not offended by his cheek. If he was talking to another Breiman, they only would have exchanged their formal bows and crossed paths without another word, for calling attention to what Kalyan had been doing was by all means rude among his people. Catching butterflies was neither productive for the herd or the mind, one would have thought, and scoffed to see him wasting his time exploring the fields. It was obvious from her expression that Esmae clearly did not find his hobby worthless – her eyes seemed to alight with an interest he knew all too well. A simple curiosity that he loathed to see a lot of other horses lacked out of fear and suspicion. As she flipped through the pages, he restrained himself from throwing in comments about his favorite insects. There was the cricket that glowed in darkness, and there was that moth with wings the color of the dawn sky… Oh, how he longed for a real book describing the insect denizens of the surface. “Would you really?” Her offer caught him by surprise, and for a long moment he was unsure whether she was making another joke. He would love a companion for his surface adventures. The villagers of the Point wouldn’t do- they had no interest in describing the lands they saw every day nor exploring areas pockmarked with dangerous crevices. Kalyan himself had a limit- once the grasses got too thick it was impossible to see the footing or even tell if a vagabond was lurking nearby, sword poised for the strike. But a healer who traveled the surface, she must certainly know her way around. “It’s a deal then- you show me how to catch the butterflies around here… perhaps stand guard while I sketch them-“ He grinned broadly at her, alluding to the fact she was not the cutthroat assassin he had originally feared, “And I can show you the right herbs to get around here and how to Barter in the Point.” He tapped his hoof against the ground and thought for a moment, wondering how daring he would be, “In fact, if we convince a few of the villagers that you’re with me and you can fake the customs of a Breiman, I’m sure they wouldn’t charge you extra.” He took the notebook back gratefully- as exciting as it was to share, the book felt safest in his pack, the years of precious notes tucked away safely. “Well-el” He dragged out his words as he stopped to stare at the sun and considered the time, “The morning is still young and we aren’t too far from the Point. Let’s go there first. I’ll show you how to barter with these folk, get a jar for butterfly-hunting, and then you can show me how it’s done!” If she was a rogue she was a talented liar… well, it was true he hardly knew anything about her yet. But something in him told him to trust a fellow healer. No one else would be able to tell him about the surface with such honesty. “And there are a few small caves near here I’ve been meaning to see- they say it’s dangerous, if you explore alone. But we can look out for each other.” Post 4 | 601
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