Entry #7173 - Nasiur

1st of Cylus 720

Once an isolated and dying township, an influx of academics, adventurers and thrill seekers have made Scalvoris Town their home. From scholars' tea shops to a new satellite campus for Viden Academy, this is an exciting place to visit or make your home!

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Zekuseeyros
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Posts: 29
Joined: Mon Mar 16, 2020 8:58 pm
Race: Aukari
Renown: 0
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Wealth Tier: Tier 5

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Entry #7173 - Nasiur

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1st Cylus, 720

It was the creaking of the wood, he understood. That croaking had become like the whine of a pig, screeching itself into his ears and hammered further into the skull by the sound of the crashing waves on the side of the vessel. The wind whistled all around, and the skies would flash their lightning like a feline would shine their teeth - a feral demonstration of power. The sound of water dripping somewhere, nowhere and everywhere at once, had become the twisted, malfunctioning metronome for this dysfunctional symphony of chaos. There was more to it, of course, and should Zekuseeyros see beyond the bucket and hear above the aforementioned elements, his sea sickness would’ve escalated into sea pneumonia. No need to be dramatic, of course.

With every heave, the man would curse upon the elements and yet fail to escape their hypnotic power. The words of the captain were stuck on a loop, repeating the same old phrase that had become a catalyst for his current plight; “... had a little setback, aye.” And a setback it was, forcing the already long journey onto the unstable end of the season. By the time the sun had began to hide, the skies and the seas had turned to rebels, as if forced in a tumultuous adolescence marked by their disregard for the established order. Storms would arise a few breaks in advance, then last bits before dissolving again. Wandering caskets of ice would come in and float south, as if migrating to softer climates for reproduction. Even mortals, in all their complexity and overall unchanging natures would find themselves crazed by this sudden void that would swallow them for thirty trials. Best the world be chewed and swallowed whole than to let it fester in the darkness like maggots on the flesh, the aukari thought bitterly.

There had been a setback, yes. It had cost some of the crew peace of mind, but for Zekuseeyros’, it had cost him his will to live. Never having been a fan of water in general, the idea of being surrounded by hundreds of miles of water with just a layer of wood in between had wormed itself into his brain and left him daft. Three trials now, with this unrest at sea, he had been glued to the bucket he almost felt he’d have to carry it for the rest of his days, much like his helmet. This helmet, glued by its owner by whatever magical means for whatever nefarious purposes, had now become a trap not only for its owner’s head, but also for his substances. Details being unnecessary, it is enough to state metal was not a permeable material, and that neither sweat, vomit, or the curses released by the acidic tongue could find an easy exit. Imagine, then, the scene, but imagine it vaguely lest the voyage claims the sanity of someone other than Zekuseeyros.

Suffice to say, the man had been cursed in more than one fashion. Fatigue had set in, and so he was caught unaware of the status of the vessel. Every so often he’d hear noises filtering their way into the helmet, albeit his defeated awareness could not make out the cries of the crew, the ringing of bells, the sounds of a busy dock or the mewing of the seagulls. He heard it, felt it, and recognized it only after passing out for an unknown amount of time, and by then, the swaying of the ship had slowed, the storm seemed to have been gone, and the pitter-patter of the passengers' feet had faded. The croaking of the wood had, thankfully, also ceased, and with it, the aukari found enough strength to stand. A deeply cynal thought whistled past his mind. ‘I sure hope my impossible quest doesn’t involve sea travel’. Having caught this thought, an immediate sense of shame and regret struck him, and back down he went, kneeling and pressing a hand against his chestplate. He thought of Faldrun - begged him forgiveness.

Still sea sick but able to stand and move, Zekuseeyros gathered his belongings and climbed to the deck. It was an arduous task, this climbing. Not being particularly strong at this time, the fact he was heavily armored and that he carried heavy equipment on his person made him focus on using his legs rather than make his lower back suffer. Not the first time he had been sick, and not the first time he had climbed out of a hole. Any alcohol enthusiastic could surely relate. On the deck, he was greeted with the chilling blast of Scalvoris’ Cylus, a cold, humid nightmare that sent a shiver down his back. Through the visor in his helmet, he gaped towards the torch-lit dock.

A bad omen crept over him.


word count: 806
Note:

Zekuseeyros is followed by a small cloud whenever he goes. It hovers two feet over him and gives him personalized weather. This means it could rain in a clear day, be sunny in a rainy day, or even show the stars in broad daylight. Part magic and part illusion, he has no control over it as it reacts in opposition to his emotions.

In thread it will often be called 'curse', 'scourge', 'bane' or something of that nature.
User avatar
Zekuseeyros
Approved Character
Posts: 29
Joined: Mon Mar 16, 2020 8:58 pm
Race: Aukari
Renown: 0
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 5

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Miscellaneous

Re: Entry #7173 - Nasiur

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“Swatch who's up. an' haur Ah thooght ye shat yerself deid. Mah, ye swatch loch ye hae slept wi' a corpse.”

Friendly, unintelligent words coming from the captain of the vessel himself. The aukari didn’t remember his name, although he had associated the captain with a lizard. Something about those tan features, posed, shaped and scaled in such manner that, indeed, the captain drew resemblance to a reptile. Sure seemed to speak as one, too.
“Och weel. Haur we ur. Ye can gie aff noo. Nobody's gonnae anywhaur intil Ashan comes aroond. 'main 'en back 'en an' i'll gie ye a discoont.”
The captain waved him off and kept at his grind. The aukari was somewhat disappointed in seeing the biqaj captain covered in furs, for he truly wished to understand what was it about his face that he associated with lizards. Then again, when he stepped on the plank and, finally, on the wet wood of the dock, he felt reinvigorated. Solid and unmoving, that sea sickness began to dissipate like a rat by fire. This new clarity brought a clear resolution: find somewhere to clean the vomit off of his helmet lest it froze and became a permanent odor.

The docks were busy and chaotic. Lanterns and torches gave light to heavily dressed people of all sizes, wrapped in their cloaks and their faces hidden in the folds of furs or fabrics. A small market had been set up before the town opened up, either tempting those that came or those that went. Fish, crabs, herbs, clothes, rations… All, of course, at what Zekuseeyros judged to be a rather high price. Long ago he had learned to never trust fish sellers in Cylus or Ashan, for the cold masks the true freshness of their stock. It was only when you cooked it you found it smelled like wet socks. Best to suckle on a cheap whores’ tit than to risk eating smelly fish. It’d fill you about the same.
Water he found in a nearby barrel, a thin layer of ice having formed above. Breaking it with a finger, the aukari did the best he could to clean the insides of his helmet, and the beard that was stuffed within it. It felt hopeless albeit hopeless was the summary of his whole existence, was it not? As clean as he could be, the warrior set out towards land. Never having been quite interested in humanity or the plights of other mortals, Zekuseeyros’ egocentric existence pushed his manners towards the lacking part of the scale. His arms feared not to split the way, tapping, pushing, and even shoving his way through. The demeanor was that of a commander, but the title was that of a skich. Should he had waited till they had made way he would’ve been ashes arcs ago.
The plan was usually the same: land, go inland, and find a tavern. No variation was made on this trial. The cold seemed to have driven the children off the docks, which was about the only good thing about Cylus. Those rats were quick to offer guidance into the city, provide rumors or try to help with the baggage, albeit they were also quick to pickpocket or try to lead the unwary into an alley to be robbed. Better trust a woman than trust a child, he reckoned. He wandered for a while, lacking either lantern or torch, and soon enough arrived at the Knight’s Rest - an inn quite fitting to a man like him.

Through the wooden doors there stood a young girl who greeted the enormous knight with a wide smile.
“Welcome to the Knight’s Rest, my name is Zana. How may I help you today?” Customer service seemed on point.
“...” Zekuseeyros couldn’t quite muster what he wanted to say. “... beer.”
Zana did not seem taken aback by the lack of eloquence. In fact, her smile only widened, as if hosting this armored giant was all she wanted to do. “Beer we have, sir, and something to eat if you so wish. Rooms we also have, affordable and extremely clean. If you’d hand me your shield and your weapons, sir, I’ll show you the bar. My, my father will sure like the looks of you!”
Not a fan of leaving his shield around, Zekuseeyros nonetheless obeyed, persuaded by the sweetness of the girl. His cloak he did keep despite feeling the pleasant heat of the establishment. Past the reception and to the left was the bar, somewhat abandoned but still hosting two little groups of patrons. The aukari was the biggest of them he noted for no particular reason.
“Here’s the bar, sir. My father will take your order. My, how tall you are. Are you a Lotha--” Someone new had pushed past the wooden doors. Zana cut her words short, did a polite bow with a pleasant smile, and went back to the reception.

Left alone in a corner of the bar, the aukari wasted not a moment before flinging the large grimoire from his back, planting it in the little corner of the bar, and with his ink and quill in place, began journaling the events of the day.





word count: 877
Note:

Zekuseeyros is followed by a small cloud whenever he goes. It hovers two feet over him and gives him personalized weather. This means it could rain in a clear day, be sunny in a rainy day, or even show the stars in broad daylight. Part magic and part illusion, he has no control over it as it reacts in opposition to his emotions.

In thread it will often be called 'curse', 'scourge', 'bane' or something of that nature.
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