5 Ashan, Arc 719
┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴
Tag: Dosan
Current Theme: Control by CHVRN
┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴
Tag: Dosan
Current Theme: Control by CHVRN
It was a lovely Ashan day in the Lair. The sun was shining bright. The crows were cawing merrily. It’d warmed up enough that a person didn’t have to bundle as much to keep their extremities from freezing off. Even the starving urchins along the streets seemed to have extra pep in their malnutritioned step.
Zarik headed into one of the Lair dens on a mission. He had a merchant to meet and a delivery to pick up. Nothing else… nothing else… he reminded himself again and again as he tried to believe that everything was just fine, that the Lair was not a den of crime and seediness and danger. Why, the place possibly was safer than the docks or the Shanty even… or… well, Zarik felt his bolstered courage falter as he heard moaning screams resound from an adjacent corridor. He couldn’t tell if they were good or bad screams, which for having the ear of a torturer’s assistant was saying something.
His steps slowed as he walked through the interior of the large stone building. He’d lost his way already, slightly confused as to where the front door had been… the place was like a maze with its twisted, interconnected hallways and the many doors that lined the tunnel-like paths. Zarik reached into the pocket of his black coat.
Like any day, regardless of how nice it was, Zarik wore his faded, soot-black, and frayed clothing from head to toe: from his knitted black cap, to the facemask over the lower half of his face to cover his mouth and nose, to his tightly belted coat, to his thigh-high, front-laced boots, and to the tips of his fingers with his black leather gloves. Zarik’s eyes glimmered blue. He read over the instructions he’d jotted down from Matila the ithecal contact who’d sent him.
He searched for the landmark sculpture: a lewd stone carving of a man and a woman and a very frisky snake. It didn’t take long to find, considering it was set in a circular room that connected six of the hallways together. Zarik stared at the large design. The sculpture was nearly three times his height and bloodlights hung down from the lofty ceiling, casting a red glow over the polished stone. He blushed at how highly detailed the figures were.
Zarik shook his head and muttered, “Focus… Where is it…” He looked back to his note. A shiver ran up his spine. Was someone watching him? He glanced around but saw nothing. Zarik frowned. He drew the collar of his coat up. Without his scarf, his neck proved slightly more exposed with the underside of his jaw showing. He followed the tunnel that had a certain circular symbol etched on the stone above it.
There were stranger noises in this hall… ones that Zarik didn’t fully recognize. The sound of bubbling liquid, the hiss of steam, and something grating as if stone grinding on stone. He heard coughing. One of the doors opened and a lean woman left with reddened eyes and flushed skin. She didn’t seem to even notice him as she disappeared into a different room.
Zarik found his way to a door that looked like how his contact had described. There were a couple guards outside, likely the people he had to show his marker to, from the look of it. He hurriedly felt on the inside of his coat and brought out a small metal coin that had a symbol of a serpent’s eye inscribed on it. A guard, a woman in full armor, took the coin from him and then opened the door without a word said.
Hesitantly, Zarik entered a large suite that had misty trails of white smoke coiling through the place. To both sides, a couple steps led to raised sections of the wide room. The floor was carpeted with red and black rugs.
The left side platform had a lounge area with a sofa and chairs. The right side platform had a few tables that were filled with wrapped packages and other items. In the center, there was a small fountain that bubbled with red water. Zarik nervously pulled at his coat, smoothed it out, and surveyed the people next.
There were about nine people in the suite. He didn’t recognize a single one. A few were at the tables, packaging items. And the others were in the lounge, smoking and laughing over conversation. Most were men, but a few were female. The door shut behind him, closed by the guard. He looked for the most likely to be the merchant of the group… wondering if any of them would ask him why he was there or if they merely assumed he knew what he was doing already.
Zarik headed to the right. He walked up the couple of steps and looked at one of the men who packaged… something in glass. He wasn’t sure what. “E-excuse me,” he said, “I- I’m here to pick up a delivery? Uhm… f-for Matila.”
Zarik headed into one of the Lair dens on a mission. He had a merchant to meet and a delivery to pick up. Nothing else… nothing else… he reminded himself again and again as he tried to believe that everything was just fine, that the Lair was not a den of crime and seediness and danger. Why, the place possibly was safer than the docks or the Shanty even… or… well, Zarik felt his bolstered courage falter as he heard moaning screams resound from an adjacent corridor. He couldn’t tell if they were good or bad screams, which for having the ear of a torturer’s assistant was saying something.
His steps slowed as he walked through the interior of the large stone building. He’d lost his way already, slightly confused as to where the front door had been… the place was like a maze with its twisted, interconnected hallways and the many doors that lined the tunnel-like paths. Zarik reached into the pocket of his black coat.
Like any day, regardless of how nice it was, Zarik wore his faded, soot-black, and frayed clothing from head to toe: from his knitted black cap, to the facemask over the lower half of his face to cover his mouth and nose, to his tightly belted coat, to his thigh-high, front-laced boots, and to the tips of his fingers with his black leather gloves. Zarik’s eyes glimmered blue. He read over the instructions he’d jotted down from Matila the ithecal contact who’d sent him.
He searched for the landmark sculpture: a lewd stone carving of a man and a woman and a very frisky snake. It didn’t take long to find, considering it was set in a circular room that connected six of the hallways together. Zarik stared at the large design. The sculpture was nearly three times his height and bloodlights hung down from the lofty ceiling, casting a red glow over the polished stone. He blushed at how highly detailed the figures were.
Zarik shook his head and muttered, “Focus… Where is it…” He looked back to his note. A shiver ran up his spine. Was someone watching him? He glanced around but saw nothing. Zarik frowned. He drew the collar of his coat up. Without his scarf, his neck proved slightly more exposed with the underside of his jaw showing. He followed the tunnel that had a certain circular symbol etched on the stone above it.
There were stranger noises in this hall… ones that Zarik didn’t fully recognize. The sound of bubbling liquid, the hiss of steam, and something grating as if stone grinding on stone. He heard coughing. One of the doors opened and a lean woman left with reddened eyes and flushed skin. She didn’t seem to even notice him as she disappeared into a different room.
Zarik found his way to a door that looked like how his contact had described. There were a couple guards outside, likely the people he had to show his marker to, from the look of it. He hurriedly felt on the inside of his coat and brought out a small metal coin that had a symbol of a serpent’s eye inscribed on it. A guard, a woman in full armor, took the coin from him and then opened the door without a word said.
Hesitantly, Zarik entered a large suite that had misty trails of white smoke coiling through the place. To both sides, a couple steps led to raised sections of the wide room. The floor was carpeted with red and black rugs.
The left side platform had a lounge area with a sofa and chairs. The right side platform had a few tables that were filled with wrapped packages and other items. In the center, there was a small fountain that bubbled with red water. Zarik nervously pulled at his coat, smoothed it out, and surveyed the people next.
There were about nine people in the suite. He didn’t recognize a single one. A few were at the tables, packaging items. And the others were in the lounge, smoking and laughing over conversation. Most were men, but a few were female. The door shut behind him, closed by the guard. He looked for the most likely to be the merchant of the group… wondering if any of them would ask him why he was there or if they merely assumed he knew what he was doing already.
Zarik headed to the right. He walked up the couple of steps and looked at one of the men who packaged… something in glass. He wasn’t sure what. “E-excuse me,” he said, “I- I’m here to pick up a delivery? Uhm… f-for Matila.”
Speak
✲ Think
