• Solo • History of the Island

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

1st Trial of Cylus, Arc 718

Freya awoke from sleep with a start, the fire that was once burning in her bedroom, now having crumbled to dimly lit embers. The room was warm still, unlike the icey cold she could see gathering on the window. The tavern creaked, probably from the weight of the snow that poured a top its roof from outside. Gods, she hated this place.

Getting up, the woman reached out for her cloak and dragged the heavy garment off the chair, draping it over her shoulders as to keep the warmth as close to her form as possible before standing to look out onto the streets below.

Lanterns met her eyes, dangling in the winds while folks hurried by on cobble stoned streets. It wasn’t anything like Ne’haer. There was nothing dazzling about the architecture, though it was cozy. The streets didn’t gleam white even though dirt soiled their beauty, but the roads here were direct. The docks and lakes were frozen solid, preventing even the minimalist of transportation to and from the other lands beyond Scalvoris.

She was stuck here… Stranded and alone. Taking a deep breath, the woman held tightly to her cloak, lost in thought. Wendell… He’d left her. The accusations she’d made, the fear that gripped her heart, the truths behind the lies. Was all of it a lie? Could he truly not love another human being?

Tears welled up in her eyes as her face contorted and she grabbed the book laying on the dresser and chucked it at the fire, letting out a hate-filled grunt. Damn him! Damn that Wolf! Damn him to the beyond!

Watching as the book caught fire, Freya let the heat of her actions wash over her in a brilliant blaze of fire before it died out in embers once again. She was stuck here for the season, probably until the end of Ashan depending on how soon the ice would melt. Freya supposed it was best she learned of the place while she was here… It was the only thing she could do at this point.

Word Count: 345

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

While Freya took liberties with her profession of local drug dealer, she never rested where she dealt. Thus, she chose to settle down in a cozy, simple room provided by the Knight’s Rest Inn and Tavern. When the biqaj first ventured off the boat and into the nearest pub, she’d gathered from the barkeep that this was the most suitable Inn for her. Quiet, out of the way, mindful of the guests… It was exactly what she needed to stay under the radar while she built coin up in her change purse in hopes of getting off this bloody island.
It was now to be her seventh night there and once more, the woman wandered down the steps in a night chemise with her cloak tightly wrapped about her. Thick brunette tresses cascaded overtop fur covered shoulders, the natural curls bouncing with every step she took until Freya was found seated at a table with candles lighting the room.
It truly was cozy, the way everything tied together and the musty smell of oak, spice, and rum enhanced the atmosphere to delve any newcomers deeper into the culture that was the Knight’s Rest in Scalvoris. There was always someone around as well, and though they appeared tired in the late evening/early morning (who could tell, really?), the family that ran the Inn was one of the most welcoming Freya had ever met.
“Mornin’ Aphina.” Naomi greeted, her accent thick as she swung into the seat across from the woman. The fire that roared in the main room warmed Freya up to her ears, so she relaxed the grip on her cloak and settled into her seat.
“Morning.” She responded in rakahi. Freya didn’t realize her mistake under the puzzled expression of the server met her eyes and she corrected herself gracelessly. “M-Mornin’.”
“Where’s that from?” She asked of Freya’s accent.
“The West…” Pondering how much information she should give, Freya offered a more specific answer. “In Etzos.” It was a lie, of course. Everything about her in this region was a lie. Well, mostly everything…
“Etzos? I’ve never been there.” She smiled, “Care ta share a story?”
This, Freya did not expect. The woman was becoming an annoyance Freya would rather have not put up with, “It’s early, I’d rather not rehash old memories.” Among all her lies, this was one of the only truths because in the forefront of her memories, Wendell was carved like a festering wound in the flesh. She didn’t want to think of him.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean ta burden you. Collecting stories is what I like ta do.” Naomi corrected, straightening a bit. “Breakfast first, aye?”
Nodding, she didn’t turn her eyes up to watch the server leave. Instead, she kept her hands cupped on the table and looked on with golden eyes at the fire curling up over wooden logs where they sat in the iron grate. The fire reminded her of Caedmi, the Sev’ryn-Biqaj sailor that accompanied her on her previous trips. He had been underhanded and conniving, but his punishment (that was, to travel with Wendell, unpaid) was enough justice to fit his crime of abandonment, she supposed.
Her hand reflexively went to her shoulder where a gnarly scar lay upon the skin there. He’d helped heal her, supplied her with drugs to keep her at ease then put her back together with the Moseke followers. Freya didn’t remember much of that time, but right now, she missed the man.
The fire popped just as Naomi placed a steeping cup of black coffee in front of Freya, causing the woman to jump a bit as Naomi laughed. “Lost in thought, are we?” She asked.
Freya sighed blissfully, inhaling the scent of bitter beans before taking a swig. “Mmm…” Waking up just a bit, she set the cup down and leaned forward. “So, what can you tell me about this place?”

Word Count: 651

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

“Tell you? About Scalvoris?” Naomi’s brow creased as she attempted a half smile, confusion written within her lovely features, “You don’t know of the Pirate Lords Island?”
“I know there were Pirates here.” And frankly, she’d love to do business with them, if she could find any… “I heard there was some accident?”
The woman across from her shook her head, interjecting almost immediately, “Oh no, there was no accident. No one knows what happened to them, only that they disappeared from the island, never to be seen again.”
A chill ran down Freya’s spin as Naomi leaned in closer, as if there were others listening to the pair, though they were by themselves within this section of the tavern.
“Long ago, when Scalvoris was first ventured across, there were twenty Pirate Lords that took hold of the land and claimed it as their own. Though it was close to inhospitable with storms that ravaged the land and people within it, they formed a Pact with each other, one that spelled peace for all who chanced coming to live in Scalvoris.”
“Oddly, this peace lasted for a hundred arcs until one day, a great mist took hold of the island only after the towns and villages were laid to ruin by great beasts of shadow and darkness. They ransacked the island and in their wake, devastated many families to the point that some lines were scrubbed from existence. The mist lasted one hundred trials, all the while people stayed close to their homes for fear the beasts would return. Some blame the spirits surround the Immortal’s Tongue for what curse befell the island, but everyone knows that the Pirate Lords have not been seen since the arrival of the mist.”
Freya remembered the Mist Men. She only barely escaped Ne’haer with Valken when the war horns sounded and they had attacked. Freya remembered the way the city looked as the stone began to burn. She’d watched it for leagues while it faded on the horizon.
“I remember them… The Mist men.” Her voice drew out, lost in thought. “They’d attack Ne’haer nearly two arc ago.”
Naomi nodded, then frowned. “Were you not in Etzos?”
“No, I was traveling for business.” Freya replied smoothly. It was becoming easier to lie to people. “While I was there, they attacked. If it wasn’t for the horns around the city, I might be dead right now…”
“Aye,” The girl sighed, “My family was taken by them also, though it is not something I like to speak of.”
Freya remained quiet, only until a thought dawned on her, “What’s this Immortal’s Tongue?”
“I would not venture to that place so carelessly, if I were you. The Immortal’s tongue is a place full of power that leaves all who enter its dominion crazed with insanity. Those I’ve met to have passed by that area speak of whispers coming from the mouth.”
Groaning, Freya curled around her cup of coffee, “Why does this place sound like it dropped out of some scribe’s off beat fantasies?”

Word Count: 508

[Freya DuCarinos]

○ Common ○ Rakahi ○ Pailtic ○ Hussian ○

Lifting the brew up to her lips, Freya parted them and allowed the brew to be swept down her throat in two long pulls before placing the cup back on the table, still held within the palms of her hands.
“So,” She continued, “If I cannot venture to this Immortal’s Tongue, what is on Scalvoris worth traveling to?”
Noami smiled, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. “There are quite a few places actually, it just depends on what you’re interested in.”
“I thought you said this place was inhospitable?”
“Well, way back when. There’s been development and the people have adapted to the lands they live on. Some seasons—,” She made a point to wave a hand to the blackened window, indicating the Cylus night, “—are just harder on others to survive through.”
Remaining silent for a long while, Freya nodded. “I had a boat of mine get taken from me. That’s actually why I’ve ended up here. In my rush to get it back from the thief, I shipped out on the wrong boat and ended up in Scalvoris… Are there any places around here that build ships for a fairly decent price?”
“A decent price would still cost an enormous fortune, especially to have it built from nothing. Why… I’d wager it would take a season or two to complete. Are you sure it’s not better just to seek passage on another vessel?”
“It’s not the same.” The biqaj expressed flatly. “Besides, it would be well worth the nel I sink into it because it would be my own.”
Pausing, the redhead bit her lip as she thought. “Well, from what I’ve heard, Egilrun has a fine supply of shipbuilders, though that’s all I’ve heard of them as far as the town’s specialty goes. I would try to avoid Almund if I were you… That place is nothing but bad news.”

Word Count: 314

[Alistair]

Freya

Knowledge
Skill
Strength: Putting Force Behind An Object To Throw It Further
Psychology: Memories Can Be Crippling
Deception: Give False Information When Asked
Deception: Don’t Waver Your Voice When Lying
Deception: Sometimes You Have To Believe Your Lies
Deception: Look Them In The Eyes

Non-Skill
Scalvoris: History of The Island
Scalvoris: Pirate Lords
Scalvoris: Pirate Lord Pact
Scalvoris: Cities and Towns On The Island
Scalvoris: The Disappearance of the Pirate Lords
Naomi: Server At The Knight’s Rest Inn
Naomi: A Collector of Stories
Naomi: Curious About Freya
Naomi: A Great Storyteller

Loot: -11 GN
Injuries: N/A
Renown: N/A

Points 10

Comments: Hey, good on Freya for taking the time to learn about Scalv's history! lol. Also, this kind of taught me that I need a gnarly mist-man story... I forgot that happened!

Nice template, btw, and a good read!