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Shadow Stride; Seissberd!
Topic Started: May 17 2011, 01:41 PM (358 Views)
Zinc
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The Owl Waife
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In the outskirts of Lihn, there were two voices growling at each other in low and angry tones. The air pair comprised of Ryle and Valigar were arguing. Again.

"You're being childish! You should know I can perfectly take care of myself!" Ryle was staring up at her dragon, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I didn't say that you couldn't!" He replied, his head lowered so he was eye level with his rider. His muzzle was wrinkled up in both irritation and anger. "But I still don't see why you won't allow me to stay close by. If you are injured or worse threatened to be killed, what will you do if I'm all the way out here?!" he hissed, wishing that his rider would see sense for once in her life.

"I'll be fine. Like you said, you know that I can take care of myself." she refused to meet his dark purple eyes. Valigar's lip curled even more.

"You my dear...are a woman who has yet to realize her limits." Why she had been sent out here for this by her Wing leader had yet to be seen. He arched his neck back up to it's graceful s-shape so he could peer down at her. The snarl faded away as he frowned. "I think only of you, mine." he said with a sigh. "You know what you do affects the two of us."

With a soft sigh Ryle peered up at her dragon. "Yes Valigar, I am aware. But I will tell you what I've already told you. I'll be alright, you know if any problems arise that I can fight my way out. Also realize that I'm not supposed to cause problems...just scout. If I do get into any problems, I'll call you, and I know you'll tear the place apart to drag me out of there. It'll be fine." she said casting a faint smile up at her dragon, which, coming from Ryle was close to a full grin on others. "You don't have to worry."

Valigar stared down at her, his eyes narrowed. "But I do." he sighed. "If I don't, who will whine at you?" he gave a half smile as well. Her sarcastic marks must be wearing off on him. "Don't do anything stupid, mine." He turned and moved to find a secluded spot nearby where he would wait.

Ryle watched him go, leaning against the wall, her dark blue eyes half lidded. She looked over herself and gave a wry smirk. In her clothing, she looked just as convincing as the next young man to walk down the street. Her hair aided her in that pursuit. She pushed a few strands from her eyes and snorted as they fell back into her vision. Maybe she should cut it shorter....Maybe not, Valigar was near the end of his patience with her most of the time as it was. He'd probably strap her to his back and never let her down if she did something like that.

Running a hand over her arms, she felt the straps holding her knives flat against her skin. Their design made it harder to see that they were there. She also had some against her thighs and the sides of her torso. If she ever got into a tight spot, those would be her back up. Her trusty scimitars were at their usual places, crisscrossed across her back. One fluid and easily practiced motion would allow her to draw them in the blink of an eye should the need arise. Where she was going, weapons in plain view were a common thing. Hidden ones even more so. Another quick check that her dragon's crystal was hidden out of sight beneath her shirt and she was ready.

A short walk brought her to her destination. The sign over the door read 'Jack of Spades' though she didn't stop to read it, knowing that gawking at it might give her away to those leaning against the outside of the building who were already giving her piercing looks. She ignored them and shouldered open the door. Sliding through the dim tavern she cast discreet glances beneath the fringe of her hair at those around her. As she sat down at the bar and got herself a drink, she remembered her goals. One, how great were the numbers of the mercenaries. Two, who was hiring them? And three, just how dangerous could they be to those who they could be turned against.

Judging on the amount of weaponry and the other sharp eyes surveying the dim room and watching her with dangerous flickers beneath their calm gazes, they might be problematic if made into enemies. She narrowed her own eyes and felt the cautious touch of Valigar testing how she was doing. She forced her caution to give way to calm, not wanting him to worry. If there was even a hint of panic to be caught...she didn't doubt he'd come storming the city to drag her out.
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Seiss
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Gyrfalcon- geddit right bud, or you is food.
This tavern was a unique one he loved to frequent due to its… enigmatic advantages. Apparently, no one paid attention when you didn’t want them to and it didn’t matter if someone was trying to spy. Nothing good came out of it, if any at all. Something here messed with his focus. He couldn’t listen to anyone else’s conversation for longer than a few minutes and after that, he’d forget what they said. Everyone minded their own. Well, Zan had seen and experienced enough weirdness in life to question it.

He was lounging in his seat, sipping absently on his cider when a lad entered. He resisted a growl of complaint, sitting up instead and resting his arms on the table. What is it with the pages? His recent, mysterious client sent one after another to ‘communicate’ with him. And not one of them knew what they were doing, except to deliver what they were told. Well, he supposed that was the point. His client… a sly one. Normally, he wouldn’t have minded, but this, he had been offered good pay. Logic was telling him yes, take it; while his gut said he was signing himself to the devil. Heaving a sigh, he dropped his head on the table. Stop whining and let’s do it.

In a smooth confident movement, he rose from his seat, grabbed his tankard and made his way towards the bar. “So,” he began, seating himself right next to this page- except this one wasn’t any ordinary page. The moment his amber eyes landed on his- or rather- her features, he stared. “Holy Tainted moth-“ he cut off his curse abruptly and turned to face the front, running a hand down his face. Then he looked at her again, properly. The shock was gone from his eyes as he studied her with the intensity of a wolf’s. His eyes caught the ruby shine of her dark hair that hid such rich colour and her eyes were sapphire. Such a finely crafted face under the guise of a boy’s attire could hardly hide her aristocratic blood.

“Well, you must be my assignment,” he finally said. “Are you going to tell me who I am working for? All those pages didn’t know anything worth a dime.” Taking a generous swig of his drink, he tilted his head at her, much like a curious wolf. “Name’s Zan. Are you going to keep this manly disguise for long?” His smile was wry, amused and teasing. Chances were, this woman was his employer. After all, what family head would get a mercenary to escort his daughter around Hellman’s Well of all places?
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Zinc
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Ryle took a small testing sip of her drink before swallowing a normal mouthful, her head tilted down as if she was inspecting the grain of the wood bar, when in reality she was watching from her peripheral. As a soldier she was probably one of those that was overlooked or often underestimated at first glance. Her overall appearance that led most to believe her to be a young man also led to the belief that her slight build made her a weakling. A dire mistake for most that had found out. Her spitfire personality was good for causing many to back peddle. But it was that one part of her that made her wonder why she'd been sent. She wasn't good with socializing...whether it was for mission's sake or otherwise. But now that she saw this place, her ability to keep her wits about her was probably something that would come in handy.

She considered what she'd been told before she'd left with Valigar. She was to meet a contact. She had no idea who it was, but she'd been assured by Basara that she should be perfectly fine. It was the 'should' that had Valigar worried. She gave a slight smirk at the reaction of her Air dragon's indignation. Apparently the Wing leader had been communicating with this mercenary for a few weeks now. She wasn't sure what exactly she thought about it, but she did know that if the war was to be won, that they would need everyone they could get.

A voice to her right made her turn her head slightly so she was looking up at a dark haired man who'd placed himself in the seat next to her. He had a sort of look to him that absolutely screamed 'predator'. The scars that were visible showed that he had been in plenty of fights, and was no doubt familiar with the weapons that he no doubt carried with him somewhere. It also seemed that he had decided to strike up a conversation with her. As he suddenly paused and cut off mid curse Ryle directed her gaze away from him, taking another drink from her mug to hide a snort. When she put her cup back down she saw that he was now inspecting her, and something about it unnerved her ever so slightly. There was definitely a hint of predator in him somewhere.

And it appeared that this man was the contact that Basara had told her about. "That was rather subtle." she commented, glancing at the bar through lidded eyes. The sudden exclamation from the bar had dragged the questioning dark gazes of several of the darker corners of the room. With a faint scowl she turned her attention back to Zan. She raised a brow, so she was an 'assignment'? Hmph. She looked away from him. "If you've not been told yet who you're working for, it'd hardly be any fun to reveal that information." she gave a crooked smirk. "As for the pages...it's to be expected. I'm surprised any of them have actually had the guts to walk in here." Then again, the consequences of returning to Basara with a failed mission probably had less appeal.

She gave him a side glance, her grip on her mug tightening as she frowned at him. It was hardly a disguise, if anything it was her own normal attire. "Well Zan," she said, her dark blue gaze cool. "I don't think appearances are what I'm here to discuss." She wanted to get her information and be on her way. Drinks or otherwise she wasn't enjoying this place as much as the other patrons probably were, although her body language was relaxed, the slight threads of tension that could be caught in her movements indicating her awareness of what was around her and her caution.
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Seiss
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Gyrfalcon- geddit right bud, or you is food.
The way she looked about like a criminal caught under scrutiny told him everything- not everything… but it certainly hinted she knew little about Jack of Spades, Hellman’s Well and, much to his ire, the entire nature of this damned assignment. If anyone so much as step into this mercenary tavern, it was safe to assume they knew the place from informants in Hellman’s Well. “Alright, princess. Stop that. Either look at me or look to the front. Don’t eye anyone else or you might find yourself thrown out very soon,” he drawled, watching her from the corner of his eye while he turned to hail the bartender for more ale. “I don’t think I need to ask… you don’t even know what you are doing, do you?”

His mood was soured at the edges. He was no incompetent fool, yet his current rubbed his fur the wrong way. Despite what little information he was provided, he could always figure out what bastards hired him be it Taint or Sekkaian. Zan allowed them to pull his puppet strings, but never without hooking his own on them to ensure some measure of control. Fool mercenaries didn’t last long on their jobs simply because they didn’t think to put a collar on their employers. He wasn’t the Zmey’s protégée for nothing. The man might have gone peacefully from the world of the living, but his teachings gave Zan a free mercenary’s life. Whoever sent this woman to him must either be wishing for random luck, confident or this entire assignment’s success didn’t matter.

"Well Zan," she said, her dark blue gaze cool. "I don't think appearances are what I'm here to discuss."

Lupine eyes flickered and remained on her, calculating. “Then pray tell, what is it are we supposed to discuss, princess? What are you after?” She seemed worried that they would be overheard. Inwardly, he smirked. He’d let her squirm there, deciding to keep the peculiar tavern’s trait to himself. After all, he was being told to dance blind here.
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Zinc
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The Owl Waife
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If Ryle was anything like her dragon Valigar, the 'princess' nickname that Zan had apparently bestowed upon her would have been enough to have all of her feathers standing on end with irritation. As it was, the irritation was only shown through the whitening of the skin over her knuckles as her grip on her drink tightened, and an ever so slight narrowing of her eyes as the blue chilled to a darker shade almost imperceptibly. As much as it killed her to do so, she did as she was warned and turned so she was halfway facing him, eyes regarding him with that same coolness.

While the bartender was making his pass by them with the ale that Zan had called for, Ryle beat her emotions back under her thumb. No use letting that fiery personality take over unless the man did something that really got under her skin. Until then, she'd do as she figured her Talon wanted her to do and play nice. Or as nice as Ryle could possibly be in such circumstances, which might have been a step below blunt, and one above rude. However, when he questioned her knowledge of just what she was up to, her impassive expression morphed into a scowl, eyes narrowed. "And you," she stated, "are rather presumptuous aren't you?" She snorted and brooded over her drink for a few long moments.

“Then pray tell, what is it are we supposed to discuss, princess? What are you after?”

She lifted her head, eyes narrowed at the use of the nickname once more. "I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling me that." The nickname created a grating reminder of her life before she joined the Academy. A life that she'd wanted no part in and had no wish to go back to. She'd burned all her bridges as she'd crossed them that night, there was no going back even if she'd wished it.

"It's not what I'm after at all. It's what your employer is after. I need information." She gesture faintly around them with a lazy wave of her hand, "Both about the charming residents of this hole in the wall, as well as Hellman's Well." She matched her dark azure gaze against his lupine one, pausing just for a moment as her barely remembered social norms might dictate, to see if he had any objections to what was asked of him so far. If not, she'd finish this up.
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Seiss
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Gyrfalcon- geddit right bud, or you is food.
He raised a brow when she called him presumptuous. “Well, if it makes you feel any better. I’d say that’s exactly why you are sent here. Since you don’t have a clue, your father, brother- whoever you’ve threatened- or what you call my employer is telling me to shut the hell up and get on with the job,” he said, sarcasm dripping, though he had meant his words. Zan was still betting on the chance that she was some noble’s daughter out for a taste of adventure. He let her sink into her own silence, taking the time to brood himself and curse the curiosity in him to accept the assignment in the first place. Then again, the woman had been right about one thing- where’s the fun in taking a safe job?

“Well, lady. I was hoping you’d take that as a hint to share with me your name.” He smirked. Then for his own sadistic pleasure, he said, “So, princess. What’s your name? Or I really would address you with your royal title for the entire length of time we have to put up with each other.” Not that was partially untrue. He doubted he’d be ‘putting up’ with her. Zan was already starting to like this prickly, fiery tempered woman. Fun.

When she voiced what she wanted, the hand holding on to his tankard paused halfway on its journey to his lips. He turned with slow deliberation and fixed his eyes on her again, on her blue ones. It didn’t help that Zan didn’t quite understand what the Tainted feathers it was that she wanted from him. Not really. Then he realized she was serious. Really? He couldn’t help it. He coughed out a laugh and shook his head. “Oh, my innocent little lamb! I have to give it to you.” He raised his tankard towards her, brought it to his lips and downed a quick mouthful. “If you really want all that, you may as well wrap me in gift wrappers and just hand me over to whomever it is sent you here. Or try to narrow that request down, will you? If you want Hellman’s Well’s heart and soul, and all of its essence. It’s going to cost you.”

He rested his tankard on the wooden surface of the bar and slouched forward. "I don't mean money, princess."
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Zinc
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She just about choked on a mouthful of her own drink as she resisted a snort as he directed towards her that he believed that she was being sent here to negotiate on behalf of a family member. Then again...She paused to consider for a moment. By all intents and purposes there were probably plenty of families that hired the mercenaries that frequented here for odd jobs. She was just assumed to be part of another one. 'That's where you're wrong.' she thought, eying the wood grain of the bar again, her gaze half-lidded as she thought, ignoring the man's sarcasm for the time being.

She glanced back at him, a wry smirk that held faint traces of mockery in it heralded her reply. "Maybe I would have earlier had you actually bothered to ask it." That was Ryle, never one to do something she didn't want to do unless it was asked directly of her. Or in the normal 'take it for granted' way from those she respected. Since this man hadn't been straightforward and asked, nor did she currently hold him in any sort of favor, she'd ignored the silent request present in the introduction of their conversation. However, since she was steadily beginning to contemplate dumping the last half of her drink on Zan's head, she decided now would be a good time to go ahead and just give the mercenary a name. Especially since he did ask directly this time.

"Ryle." she stated with a sideways look at him, a frown still twisting her mouth. Her royal title? She gave a half laugh, bitterness prickled at her but remained thankfully, free of her tones. "Hopefully that time won't be too long." She stated flatly. Yes, the mercenaries were interesting, but this one seemed particularly fond of rubbing her the wrong way. He just made it worse when he laughed at her request for information.

Despite the irritation that flared even brighter, she heard him out, propping her chin on her hand as she looked at the wall ahead of her, thinking now. Calculating. All that she had been told, what she needed to acquire. She would probably end up taking up the suggestion of narrowing that down. What would be the most important first?

She lifted her head from her hand and eyed him with slight wariness as he leaned against the bar. Wonderful, this man was after something else entirely. What the heck did he even want? She wasn't about to ask. "Then let's narrow down the search." she said calmly. "What do you know of the vessels that sail from here? Do any sail as far as Vien?" again, she watched him silently, her own eyes watching his, waiting for any sign of hesitation, a flicker that might indicate a lie. She was a woman at work, and would get her job done.
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