• Closed • You've Got to Pull Your Own Weight

[Braker Ironsides]

1st of Ymiden

Ymiden was simultaneously the best and worst part of the arc in Braker's opinion. The sun was shining, the air was clean in the city of birds, and there was no more damned cold that sapped the heat out of his fingers and turned shields into gigantic ice chips. The wind was warm and didn't tear at your face or shoulders. He was content to train in this sort of warmth, with the last dregs of Ashan weather dying away in the sky above him. He, like all mercenaries in the Avriel city had some measure of freedom. Tensions were high among the winged, delicate sparrow-people flying above them and living in their towers. Humans were stronger and tended to dig their feet in. Avriel were determined and had the enormous gift of flight. It was at an impasse but who knew for how long?

At least they allowed opportunists like himself to thrive. He could keep himself in shape almost anywhere. He had a lead on a job. Someone just wanted a bodyguard for the day. Probably an Avriel who needed to conduct business with the ground-bound races. Avriel slavers usually had some measure of protection swathing around them at all times. Usually big, burly men like himself who only needed to roll their shoulders and crack their knuckles to get a point across. Hopefully, it would be enough for a shield. Gods, Braker missed using shields. They were his primary weapon, his calling, his muse, and they were something he'd had to leave behind with the mercenary company. No more free weapons. He was on his own, and there was something to be said about it. It wasn't fun. He had to find his own damn shelter, cook his own damn food (badly), and deal with whiny clients who often took one look at his bald head and declared him too old to be of any use. Until he twisted their heads around and stuffed them where the sun didn't shine.

That didn't get a man paid, however.

He sighed and peered at the scrap of paper in his hand. Despite living most of his life in Athart he had the biggest problem with Avriel names. Why did they always have to be so overblown and fancy? The bird people thought so highly of themselves, like they were nobles soaring high above. The squawking authoritarians had never appealed much to him. Too noisy. Too fidgety. Too goody-two-shoes while having that irritating sense of smug superiority. He sighed and headed inside the Coordination Center. It was always a madhouse. People applying for medical care, looking at the bounties, arguing with local magistrates, attempting to trade goods and services for other goods and services. The Avriel kept it fairly neat but at midday on the first of a season the place was crawling. Luckily, Braker was bigger than most. He simply shoved his way through. Despite his balding head and the bit of a gut he had, many people saw his massive shoulders, arms, and powerful thighs and simply didn't give him a reason to shove them.

The Avriel he was looking for went by the name Elyr. While it was undoubtably supposed to sound musical and high-born, Braker's flat voice crushed it down into something positively pedestrian. He spotted the Avriel looking around uncomfortably, and their eyes settled on one another. Braker lifted his hand in greeting and strode over to him. He had to admit, while he didn't really like Avriel they always made an impressive sight. Elyr had a beautiful arrangement of emerald feathers that looked black in low light, but shone brilliant green when he tilted his head to look up at Braker. "You Elyr?" Braker grunted.
He saw the Avriel wince at the pronunciation. "Yes. I am Elyr." The avriel put the correct emphasis on the syllables, obviously trying to correct Braker. "Now, I need you for the rest of the evening. I have to travel through the human sector and...well, they've a bad habit of striking out against our kind. They're unbearable little creatures. I need you to keep them off of me."

"Why not just fly?" Braker grunted.

Elyr rolled large eyes at him. "They throw rocks. A few of them have gotten good with slingshots. I mean, I'd go higher but..." he tossed his head, the great fan of plumes acting as his hair fluffing up indignantly. "...It looks like I'm scared. So why not just hire a big dumb lug like you to escort me? Now come on. We're burning daylight."

The Avriel seemed to flounder in the crowd a bit. He didn't want his wings touched and kept pulling back sections of himself to keep the commoners from touching his feathers. He seemed very upset that they'd dare to even brush against him and kept his nose firmly in the air. Braker sighed and turned around, steering himself like a moving building and going to the rescue of his employer. "Let me." he said, stepping around and in front of the Avriel. He made sure to brush against the man's feathers as he went past. That earned him a few muttered curses and the sound of Elyr furiously smoothing his feathers down again. Braker's mouth tweaked in a smile, and he waded forward to free them from the crowd. This job wasn't going to pay well and he probably would have to kiss any hope of a bonus goodbye with an Avriel at the wheel. He sighed. Did no one offer long contracts anymore? How much longer was he going to have to babysit a bunch of Avriel walking through the 'bad' part of town? He wanted a few years. A solid bodyguard contract. Something lasting and binding. Someone who wouldn't mind giving him a shield.

His size kept most men at bay. He wasn't the tall, slender Avriel. He was a musclebound giant with a death glare almost-permanently etched on his face. He thundered along behind Elyr, letting the Avriel constantly glance over his shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to be in front of me?" the noble said nervously.
"Would you rather get attacked from the front where I can see them and toss you out of the way, or from the back and me having to turn around? Keep moving." Braker grunted. Just like an Avriel. Beauty and no brains. No savagery. No darkness.

[Raziel]

Change of season. New blood filtering through the Coordination Center of Athart. Traders, slavers, slaves, mercenaries, a few Avriel returning from their wild pilgrimage could even be spotted soaring through the sky. A new season brought new opportunity, a chance to change the status quo. The promise of progress was thick in the air, one just needed to know which way the wind blew to seize it.

Raziel spread his star-speckled wings wide from his perch, preparing to catch the wind for take off. He luxuriated in the feeling of the cool breeze brought in from the sea, tasting the salt on his tongue and almost hearing the echo of the ocean in its passing. A part of him, the wild Avriel waiting inside, wished to take to the air towards the water. To watch the ships as they passed and enjoy every second of the power of his wings.

However, Raziel was slave to no one, not even his own desires. A quiet tune flowed freely from his hips, forging focus from his inattentive avian mind. Music was the catalyst of his mastery, and without it he would we be left like the wayfaring Avriel still stalking the wilds. Without purpose, without intelligence; a flock of beautiful idiots stalking the skies for nothing more than their own pleasure. Raziel's pleasure was in power, in purpose, and he would not allow himself to be distracted on this trial.

He needed allies. He had been in the Twisted Winds for less than a Cycle and that had already been made abundantly clear to him. While no outwardly aggressive action had been done against the young initiate, Raziel was not so naive that he couldn't see the blood waiting in the wings. He had blackmailed his way into the secret society, and even traded a life for it. 'Safety' was not an illusion he could afford. As much as irked the impulsive Avriel, caution and careful planning would be needed for these next few trials, More than that, he needed to balance out the scales. Find a servant who he could make a bulwark against his rapidly increasing collection of enemies. All the new blood in the Coordination Center, it provided him with an amply supply of recruits.

And if any of them refused? Well, Raziel had certain ways of getting around that.

A mountain of a man caught the soaring sorcerer's eye. He was an impressive physical specimen, a little old yes, but the way he commanded his own presence? Raziel admired that type of dominance, especially in a potential servant. He considered dropping down to the earth below and approaching the stranger, but stopped that line of thought when he noticed the Avriel he approached. Raziel nearly rolled his eyes. Elyr. He had known the Avriel from the Academy, and pegged him as a pigeon with the plumage of a peacock from the day they had met. Weak-willed, a poor flyer, and lacking all ability to command, his only redeeming quality was his inherited wealth. A creature such as the human he spotted was wasted on the coward. Raziel couldn't allow this arrangement to stand. It was an insult not only to himself, but to the mercenary.

It happened that Raziel wouldn't have to intervene. The two were walking towards the human sector of the city, and on the ground with only one bodyguard to protect him, Elyr's brilliant plumage made an even better target for any who were desperate enough for a quick nel. He soared high above the two, uncaring about his obvious nature. He knew what he wanted, who he wanted, and seeing the man defend such an obvious target as Elyr through such a desperate area as the Human sector, it would be a good test for the human to prove he was worth the investment.

Letting the power of his wings hold him aloft, Raziel was content to watch the pair surround themselves with enemies. If nothing else, the two would provide ample entertainment.

[Braker Ironsides]

Braker had just about enough of Elyr. The Avriel was getting on his nerves, nattering uselessly about what could happen when he should have been worrying about drawing attention to them. Braker grew more and more tense as time went on. He spotted an opportunity up ahead. A rusted iron gate leading to some little rowhouse. It was about the same size as a tower shield but not as effective. The rusted hinges were what caught his eye. He stopped and Elyr blinked owlishly at him. “What are you doing? We can’t stop!” The Avriel glanced around nervously. Braker ignored him and wrapped a hand around one of the bars in the gate. Hm. It didn’t protect his hand all the way but his elbow hit the gate in a pleasing spot. Yes, he could heft this. It would be lighter than a shield due to its grated appearance. He’d have to sacrifice a solid shield for a heavy defensive object. Still, he’d feel better having a shield even something as impromptu as this. Braker seized the gate like he would a shield, planted his feet, and yanked.

The Gates bad hinges gave way with a horrific squealing noise. Elyr startled, then stared as Braker lifted the gate with a grunt. “How...how did you..” Elyr sputtered.
“The hinges are rotten. Gates fine. Not large enough but fine enough. Come here.” Braker would feel better with the Avriel closer to him, but Elyr had different ideas. Braker wanted to welcome him in next to his large, heaving side. Safe between his belly and the shield. Still enough space to walk but not much. Elyr seemed to catch on and glared at him in disgust. He fluffed his feathers and strode arrogantly in front of the human. Braker sighed. Bad idea.

The first rock flew out of nowhere and struck Elyr in the ear. Braker eyed the pair of humans that bent down to reload from a pile of broken bricks lining an alleyway. The next stone, aimed a little more accurately for Elyrs wings, bounced off Braker’s shoulder. He seized the Avriel around the waist and tucked him into his side, ignoring the loud protests. The first human lunged at him with a knife. Braker caught the blade between the ribs of the gate, twisted, and snapped the man’s arm. The resulting scream was cut off by a loud ping as the face of the gate slammed into the humans face. The other stared, and the rock dropped from his hand. “Good choice. Grab your friend and get out.” Braker grunted. He stood stock still, long enough for the would-be bandit to seize his unconscious fellow.

Elyr squawked and struggled away from him. “Don’t you touch me!” The Avriel said, scandalized. “How dare you!”
“Do what? Save your skin? Keep moving.” Braker rumbled. Elyr clearly didn’t want to.
“You do not touch me.” He snapped, poking Braker in the chest sharply with a claw. “EVER. Look at my pinions! Ruined! This ones bent.” He lifted up his arm to show the ruffled and damaged feathers. Braker shrugged. Better than dead in his opinion.

[Raziel]

Now it was getting interesting. Raziel couldn't suppress the smirk which was scrawled plainly on his face as Elyr was pegged with a rock. The peacock deserved it for his foolishness. Entering the human sector with such limited protection during this season of high tension, he was almost asking for the assault. Not that the man's hired protection didn't prove exemplary at his profession. Raziel could almost see the music in the man's muscles as the human snapped his attacker's arm, the breaking of bone making a satisfying crunch that could be heard even from the Avriel's aerial position. Even such a short encounter as the attack which took place beneath him showcased the inherent talent of the bodyguard, as well as the weakness inherent in Elyr. If Raziel wasn't sure before, he was now.

Such a fine instrument wasted on such a poor master, Raziel would not let this contract stand.

Diving down from his skyward setting, the Avriel rushed towards where one of the attackers was gathering his friend. Slowing his descent with the rapid flapping of his star-speckled wings, he unhooked his barbed whip from its holster on his hip. Drawing the weapon back, he cracked it against the pink flesh of the human who was attempting to help his friend to his fear. The lesser species cry of pain was melodious to the Avriel's ear. Landing loudly against the hard stone of street, Raziel spread his wings wide to remind the humans of his status, and by extension, their own. Cruelly, he snapped the whip against the exposed arm of the man. Steel barbs dug deep into the ragged flesh of the human, and his scream sent shivers down Avriel's spine. Music of a more savage kind poured out the man's mouth, and Raziel was the conductor who would command them all.

"Must I remind you all of the consequences of disobedience?!" Raziel called out to the crowd, unafraid despite being surrounded by the numerous shocked and angry faces of humans. "You live by the Aerie's grace, and die by any Avriel's displeasure. And while Elyr is truly a pitiable excuse of an Avriel, he is an Avriel still. Strike him again and find yourself at my mercy in the Pit of Reflection." With a quiet, predatory saunter, the young Avriel stalked over to the human still nursing his wounds. He gripped the human's throat with his hand, staring hard into the man's eyes with his own, and then running a single, taloned finger along the line of his jaw. "And I promise you, I am not a kind master."

Releasing the man with slight push, Raziel watched with smiling eyes as the human near-dragged his friend to safety. One situation handled, he turned to face the human bodyguard and the other Avriel. "Elyr," he greeted with a dismissive wave of his hand. The human, however, he greeted with a slight bow, both an unusual sign of respect for any non-Avriel and an insult to Elyr for not having greeted him with the same respect. "Raziel, pleasure to make your acquaintance. Sorry for that unpleasantness, but sometimes one must reassert dominance, you know? Though, you did handle yourself well, human." Appreciative eyes once again scanned the man's sturdy form. So unlike the lithe but toned bodies of the Avriel, he found himself appreciative of the human's oak-like muscles. "There are many in this city who would pay you well for such skill. I'm sure you'll find success, if you're staying that is?"

Looking back towards Elyr, Raziel tilted his head in pity. The poor Avriel didn't even know that he was about to lose what would have been a valuable asset.

"Let me accompany you both the rest of your way. An escort from the Pit might serve as a reminder of the punishment that awaits those that overreach their status."

[Pegasus]

Intervention

Hi!

This intervention applies to the PC Braker. As a veteran player you are well aware of the rules, which include NOT posting IC until you have submitted your PC for approval. Literally, your pc has gone up for approval now despite the age of this thread.

Therefore, this thread is LOCKED and NEGATED. The rules apply to all players.

Raziel You are awarded 15xp for a collaborative thread which was locked because of circumstances outside your control. If you wish to request any knowledge, please PM me them, and I'll check then amend this post. Thanks.