Entry #7175 - Cis Ainn Levithnala

[Zekuseeyros]

2nd Cylus 720

It would’ve been a beautiful morning had it not been Cylus. It had all the characteristics of a good morning; the birds were singing, the wind was howling and Zekuseeyros was yawning. Sleeping on solid ground was a sensation the aukari had almost forgotten about, and now his body thanked him. Aches and swellings were gone, and his stomach, despite being punished with firebeer and rum the night before, felt steady and maybe even healthy. The only complaint came from his neck, which had been forced into an awkward position. He had again slept with his helmet on, a decision his neck despised and made sure to let him know with needle-like stings of discomfort. So long and so often he found himself trapped in that helmet he had become more comfortable beneath it, to the point of loathing its removed for either hygiene or proper feeding.

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, the undiagnosed giant stretched for a moment before dropping to the ground. Breakfast came in the form of exercise, and the servings came in bites of a hundred. A hundred push ups, a hundred squats, a hundred triceps dips and a hundred sit-ups. And boy, was it filling. What had become a rather lanky frame (in his distorted opinion) because of constant vomiting had, thanks to this complete and balanced breakfast, regained some of its size. A hundred was not a big number, albeit it intimidated more than it should. The aukari had become used to intense and prolonged training, and whenever he felt suboptimal, he’d simply focus on doing ten, then ten, then ten, and so on.

Exercise aside, what would be labeled his morning routine continued with a quick cleaning of his being. The Knight’s Rest had clean toilet facilities, and so he filled a pan with water, warmed it up on the stove, and with the help of a towel, he’d clean himself up. He did a good job, more or less. Most of the scrubbing was done in the sensitive areas, those being in the armpits, the chest and the red jungle that was his pelvis. If he failed to clean it sometimes that jungle seemed to catch fire. Once that was done, he’d begin dressing up. His armor was no easy thing to put on all alone, albeit years of experience had simplified the process. Such metallic pieces were somewhat pathetic, in truth. Whatever details they had had slowly eroded away, some rust was seen at the edges, dents, chinks and even a couple of holes - all topped off by a layer of grime and some fire marks from the few times the Fire Within had gotten its way.

Before leaving the Inn, the knight bought and drained a stein of firebeer. He needed the courage to face what seemed to be a very, very cold outside. As he opened the door, it seemed a sort of blizzard had swept down upon the island. Nevermind the snow - it was the arctic wind that was the problem. Even the aukari, who had literal fire in his body, found himself snuggling the walls to avoid full-blown contact with this cold, whispering death. At that point he realized he had forgotten either a torch or a lantern, and safe and proper navigation would be impossible. Without considering spinning on his heels and heading back, Zekuseeyros recalled the map from last night. It had stayed with its owner, albeit he had both studied it with care and copied it poorly into his grimoire. Being a nerd paid off. With his poor navigational skills, the giant turned here and there, paying little attention to the few souls that roamed the streets and yet avoiding the heavily crowded avenues.

The bounty board was not hard to find. Usually one had to look for a crowd of wannabe mercenaries (mostly kids looking for a wake-up call) or someone shouting their throat out in search of a worker. It was also a popular venue for pickpockets, prostitutes and beggars, main reasons why a whole market wasn’t erected around such a piece of wood. It was empty on this trial, the papers fluttering with the wind as if threatening to resign their duty due to the cold. Nobody gave them the attention they craved, and so those bounties and job offers couldn’t even tempt a ghost. Thankfully, Zekuseeyros was in town. With his quick and almost violent stride he had planted himself before it, and with his height and width, he had claimed a good part of the attention the board seeked.

Through the visor in his helmet, he looked, and looked, and looked… And yet he couldn’t see, because Zekuseeyros had not brought neither a torch nor a lantern with him.

[Kev]

Kev groaned and spat on the ground in front of the warehouse wall. He bounced a few times on the balls of his feet and tucked his family jewels back into his trousers. He ran his fingers through his hair and leant back to crack his back. Pulling the cloak closer around his shoulders as casually as he could, Kev set off. He didn’t want any of these Scalvs seeing the Rynmere insignia he couldn’t quite get off his armor. After all, then he’d have to explain the whole story, not that he was at fault. It would just be a damn waste of time.

But is was also cold. Sweet Tried’s testes it was cold. It bit into his exposed areas and danced through his less-than-adequate clothing. He moved his hands from the twin hilts of Hoax and Guile and onto the coin pouch at his waist. Kev liked to call this his ‘Ned pouch’. He kept most of his gold in hidden pouches or the liner of his cloak. Only his brother Ned was numb-brained enough to keep his money dangling from his waist. Bless his kind soul, because his coin-purse was cursed.

Kev thought it safe to keep his drinking money there, though. Kev yanked the cowl deeper over his face and stomped through his own cold breath as he walked down the street. The best way to keep out of prison was not to commit any crimes, but that ship had sailed back before he had ball hair for Kev. So the back up was to be pretty good at not looking like yourself. Kev could do this passably, sometimes.

He dipped into an alleyway and took a side route back to the tavern. It cut the wind, and gave him a slight respite from the cold. And it also happened to, by complete chance, keep him from bumping into some sailors that looked like they might be from Rynmere. Generally speaking, he didn’t like hanging around with people from Rynmere. Kev was from Rynmere. Rynmere had, by far, the most people who wanted to cause him trouble.

He came out on another road that looked vaguely familiar. He pointed his feet and walked towards where he thought the tavern was. Kev’s mind drifted towards his former squad members. He frowned, knowing he’d never see those militant types again. There was no use crying over spilled mead though, he would not return to Rynmere any time soon. He had to look to the future.

It was with thoughts of the future that he found his feet taking him towards the bounty board. The road to the future, Kev found, was best paved with gold. His hands returned to the hilts of his short swords as he turned the corner. He stopped short. A man in armor stood before the bounty board, maybe a Ryn knight. He peered out from under his cowl suspiciously. He didn’t wear the right insignia.

In fact, this knight appeared to be the largest and least Ryn looking knight he had ever seen. His armor was creepy, with too many faces. Never trust a two faced man, and this fellow had at least three. But it did not appear to be anything resembling proper Rynmere armor, so Kev stepped out from the shadows of the house and began walking over. If he wasn’t Ryn and actively looking to gut Kev, he was alright in the mercenary’s book.

“You’re a big scary looking beast, ain’t ya?” Kev said by way of greeting. He hiked the shortbow further up on his shoulder and nudged his bearded chin towards the board. “Anything good up there?” Kev peered at the board for a moment and then spat.

“Fuckin’ Cylus. Here, one moment.” He rummaged in his bag and found a small torch. It took him a moment, but he was able to light it with flint and steel. He held it aloft and peered curiously up at the man. “Reading with no light? Ain’t got all the marbles up there? I expect with muscles like that you don’t have much call for brains, eh?”

[Zekuseeyros]

How does one react when he realizes his own stupidity? Zekuseeyros failed to find an answer just as he failed to read the board. Instead, a long moment of contemplation came, a sort of meditation. He’d stare at that board, feel the cold, and let his mind wander not in thought or feeling, but instead in the nothingness of just being there. Where others might have found anger and frustration against themselves, the aukari would’ve found it double, and so better to cut the cord on the train of through rather than bursting into flames and throwing a tantrum. For now, at least. Should he consider the idea, the giant would find the idea not only appealing, but also quite reasonable. In fact, thinking about it more carefully, it was even logical. Repressed feelings were of no use, and much like gas, it was better to let it go.

“You’re a big scary looking beast, ain’t ya?

The voice snapped the knight out of his failing meditative practice. He turned his head, the faces of his helmet becoming an hypnotic flurry of severe, grim expressions that went only to reveal an identical twin. ‘All seeing, all knowing’, and surely ‘all moody’ was the feeling it engraved on the soul. His covert eyes landed on the source of the voice.
“For you,” he’d reply, blunt.
“Oh no, friend. I’m not interested in your scary beast!” The shorted, cowled figure grinned and barked a laugh. “Keep it in your tin pants!” He chuckled again at his joke. Then he turned and held the torch towards the board, stepping slightly further away from the giant.

Zekuseeyros did a quick scan of the male. Without much attention to detail, and combined with the flickering torchlight, he found a short, albeit confident individual that clearly had a past behind him. Something in his poise spoke of that, finding a vague resemblence to what the aukari branded as ‘the hard working entrepreneurs’ - people of low class that wished to find their fortune. A mercenary, a thug, a adventurer only there for the bag of gold rather than the adventure or the thrill - sentiment he could relate to and, therefore, accept. Combine that with a witty mouth and an outspoken nature made the cowled man a rather fun and attractive person. Without further thought, and without recognizing his own shortcomings in terms of light, he aukari faced the board.

Browsing the board had a method to it, or at least Zekuseeyros had developed one. First, ignore the old papers. The offers could either be inspired, or, if a wanted poster, the trail was even colder than an Ellune’s balls. Secondly, ignore anything a woman might’ve written, judged by the shape of the scripture. Official stamps were also a bad idea, for there were always restrictions and processes that wasted one’s limited time or gave unnecessary headaches -----

It was too cold. He was supposed to die in flames, not frozen in the streets, and so the aukari made a loud grunt and reached out towards the board.
“I’m taking these,” he declared. “Go find something else to do.” With that, he began ripping the papers with the full intention to take them all.

The shorter man pulled his hood down and stared up at the armored giant. “After all I’ve done for you? Lighting a torch so you could see.” He thrust his bearded chin towards the stack of papers in the knight’s hand. “We don’t you buy me a drink and we can talk about perspective work together. The name’s Kev.” The short archer held out a grizzled hand that clearly spoke of hard work.

“I have them. You’re the one that needs to buy me a drink.” Statement, not rhetoric. The giant, who failed to trust even one of his hands with the care for its opposite, nonetheless found himself extending a hand back to this Kev. “Zekuseeyros val Kerekeseros Öcsi. Don’t try to rob me or I’ll break your back.”

The man called Kev nodded. “Well shit it was worth a try.” He muttered. “Which one of these faces does your drinking, eh?” He grunted and began walking towards the tavern. “Well that’s too much of a mouthful for me, especially when I’m three sheets to the wind.” He turned back to the knight and made a drinking gesture coupled with a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll call you Zek.”

[Kev]

Kev brushed his fingers across the top of Guile’s hilt gingerly as he stepped on towards the tavern. He couldn’t kid himself, that behemoth looked a lot shorted from afar. Kev knew he was a jokester and sometimes people didn’t get his humor, but honestly he never really meant any harm. Well almost never. He was unnerved by the big man. Mostly because his armor made him look like some theater fiend from the depths of Aelig’s bunghole, but also because the man looked like he could rip Kev in half. It didn’t help that he couldn’t read the man’s reactions under that helmet.

So his winning personality hadn’t bought him friendship. Maybe a nice warm, and inexpensive, ale might buy him an intact back. Who knew, perhaps they could come to some arrangement. Kev turned again and glanced back at the towering figure tromping through the snow as he opened the door to the tavern. Kev had been a soldier briefly, and a fighter all his life. He hadn’t been the give and take sort, though. He preferred dishing out the hits and letting someone else take them. He had never seen such a good candidate for that role. The two of them together on a job would be downright dangerous.

Kev smiled and let the man in before him. He shook his head. Can’t let your ambition run away from you. Kev knew he was used to scoundrels and killers, but to trust so soon would be folly. And only the foolish trust. Instead he waved down a serving girl and slunk in to the corner to lean back in a rickety chair and put his boots on the table.

“Hello, friend! How goes your frigid day?” Kev smiled wide and threw his hood back as the girl came to take their order. He glanced at the man he had decided to call Zek. What kind of a name was Zekelembros anyway… or whatever he had said. “We’ll have two of your cheapest ales!”

The sapped set his shortbow down on the tabletop and cracked the cold out of his knuckles. “Alright, my friend. What say you to a little negotiation? You seem the type to like a little trouble in your work. But you know what they say, two shivs is better than one in a prison brawl.”

Zekuseeyros had, meanwhile, left his shield down by the table and allowed it to lean on it. On the light, what had seemed like an imposing armor had turned into a show of decadence; bent, burnt, rusted and filthy, if one were to look close enough, they’d even find moss growing in some of its darker crevasses. It seemed not to bother him, scanning the papers through his visor as best he could. He barely fit through the doorway, let alone in the chair.

“I like the pay better than the trouble,” the aukari would reply. After scanning a paper, he’d crumple it and discard it on the floor. Someone would clean that up for him. “With these jobs you can’t even pay for half an ale, let alone if you have to share.” As the drinks arrived, Zekuseeyros found his trusty metallic straw, which was a health danger as it seemed it had suckled mud and never been cleaned. One end in the stein, and another in a small slot in his helmet, he’d begin draining the ale. The cheaper it was, the better it tasted. And this one was a true delicacy.

Kev’s amused demeanor dropped for a moment as he stared at the man with incredulity. Then he shook his head and stared down at the bulletins.

The big knight had him there. They were sucker shams for sure. Perhaps with the dark and the cold, the decent folk stayed in their homes and didn’t have much need for bounties. He scanned the tavern’s many patrons with hooded eyes and a furrowed brow. It was time to pay patronage to some of the indecent folk then. Kev caught a young man’s eye. The man seemed nervous and quickly turned back to the small group of men and women he was sitting with.

Kev didn’t turn away, except for a glance at Zek and a flashed grin. “You’re right. Still, maybe another round.” Kev waved down the serving girl again while looking at the man across the tavern. Their group seemed in animated conversation. As he watched, they all turned as one to look at the pair in the corner.

When the serving girl arrived again, Kev tossed her a few more coins. “Two more ales, and one for the gentleman in the lavish green tunic over yonder. See the fellow who looks like he’s birthing a brick?” Kev pointed out the nervous looking man.

The comment brought forth a quick chuckle from the knight, who otherwise refused to let the bulletins go unread and harshly unjudged. Kev watched the girl give the man the drink and wiggled a few gnarled fingers at him when he and his group again collectively peered over at the pair.

“Zek, we might have another opportunity here. I smell a bigger score than this chump work.” Kev indicated the group. “They’ve been looking over at us.” At that point the man stood and approached them nervously with one of the women he had been talking to. The others watched their approach, some with anger, some with trepidation written on their faces.

“Hello, thanks for the drink.” The man said uneasily. His eyes kept drifting to the closest face on Zekuseeyros’ helmet.

“No problem, friend. Why don’t you have a seat and tell us all about it.” Kev said, grinning wolfishly from the side of his mouth. He indicated the two empty chairs.

“Tell you about what?” The woman said, dropping into a chair.

Kev glanced at the frowning face of Zeks helmet before turning back to her.

“The reason you all keep looking over here at us.” He answered, his easy tone slipping into something deeper and more serious for just a moment.

[Zekuseeyros]

There came doubt from the man, who found comfort and safety in the silently reproaching gaze of his female companion. A long silence stretched, as if both had a telepathic argument brewing. The man was short, aged and seemed about to birth a whole crop of wheat. His severe balding revealed a couple of birthmarks that resembled islands floating in a wavy, wrinkly ocean. Even so, there was clear wealth in his attire and mannerisms, and it spoke of a sedentary lifestyle without any backbreaking work. Lifting steins or glasses had made his hands as callous as a child’s. The woman, on the other hand, was far younger. Her hair was brown and contorted into what was called a Rharnian twist - an inward sort of braiding often used by anything above a working woman. Her features showed a few wrinkles, although she would still be easy on the eye should she drop the bitterness of her expression.

The man finally snapped out of their eyelock, glanced between the two men, then pulled a chair and took a seat with hesitation. The woman, on the other hand, seemed dissatisfied with such decision, and despite not making the attempt of seating, she still remained, arms crossed, besides the group.
“Well, ugh…” began the man, who found solace in watching his fingers fidget. “My… ehem ehem, colleagues and I, well, are in a bit of a pickle, as they say…” He’d scoff shyly. His eyes rose and set themselves on Kev, given that Zekuseeyros had too many eyes on his head. “My daughter here,” he’d turn to her for a moment, flashing a smile that failed to break the ice in her face.” She doesn’t want to admit it, but we’re in need of help.” A tense pause. “And you seem very capable of helping.”

Kev slid his boots off the table and leaned forward. He glanced from Zek to the man. “Might be we can help. We’re very helpful, my friend and me.” Kev grinned. “Been helping people for arcs together. What kind of help do you need with this… pickle?” He asked, lacing his fingers on the tabletop.

“Father, just stop,” snapped the woman, a final attempt to diffuse her father’s attempts to say too much. The man waved a hand in dismissal, leaning forward towards Kev. No expert was needed to recognize he was about to spill the truth.

“Look, gem.” Kev said, spreading his hands and staring at the girl. “When explaining a job to guys like us, you got to spill it. We don’t take jobs with half the cotton pulled over our eyes.” Kev pointed at Zek. “My friend here, I’ve seen him rip the head off an Avriel. We know what kind of work we attract. You don’t need to beat around the bush here.”

The woman shook her head, outraged and defeated, and moved back with her group with a heavy step. The man, however, stayed, and glanced at the giant. Zekuseeyros’ thoughts were still a mystery. He said nothing but heard everything, all the while still sorting through the bulletins and arranging them by categories; the discarded ones went on the floor, the poorly-paid ones went on the floor, and the ones that required too much work went also to the floor. Quite picky for a man that was just described as an unarmed executioner. The affluent man quickly returned his eyes upon Kev.
“That’s exactly what we need; I need capable help.” And he spilled it. “We need help getting a few things off of some people that broke a deal. They’ve changed their minds at the last moment and my, ehem ehem, associates are a bit disappointed. Its a quick and simple job, but also well paid.” He lowered his voice, leaning even further forth. “You just go into a warehouse, take care of the, ehem ehem, individuals there, and help my daughter,” he pointed back at the group with a thumb. “Put some crates in the cart, then you get paid.”

“Whoa whoa.” Kev held up a hand. “Take care of the individuals?” Kev glanced around the bar. “You want us to kill them?”

The man exploded into a loud shush, waving his hands violently as if having heard someone praising Faldrun himself. “No, no! Of course not! Just… you know, convince them to honor the deal. No killing of any kind!”

Kev barked with loud laughter. “Oh, see you had me there. You didn’t seem like the type to want to off someone… And it would have cost more.” He leaned back in his chair and gestured for the man to continue.

“... no, no.” The man seemed a bit shocked at hearing such reply, and doubt once again surfaced in his eyes. Maybe he should’ve gone to the Black Cats Mercenaries, for at least there he knew what kind of individuals he was hiring. Then again, why waste the extra coin? “You just go, roughen them up a bit if it needs to, and help load some crates into a cart. You’ll be paid right there and there and you’re free to go.” He tried to comfort the pair with a nervous smile, glancing between an obviously stoic knight and a very outspoken rogue. Surely he thought his daughter may have been right.

“Well, sounds simple enough.” Kev glanced at Zek with humor in his eyes. “Why don’t you go and sit with your associates and give us a few moments to discuss. Then we’ll get back to you. Also-“ Kev fingered his short bow’s string, thrumming it and eyeing the man beadily. “What’s the pay?”

“Thirty five silvers,” he’d reply. A moment of hesitation. “... each.”

[Kev]

Kev watched the man go then chuckled. He turned to Zek and shrugged. “Apologies about the embellishment. I thought a little bit of extra panache and a bit of shared history might inspire more confidence in our prospective employer.” Kev gestured with a single finger twitch towards the man’s retreating back.

The aukari rose his stein and drained the last remnants of it, then finally stared back towards his newfound coworker. “Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see,” he replied, dismissive. “You’ve milked him good enough. Did he wet the seat?”

Kev roared with laughter and sniffed the air. “I can’t tell in this cesspit of a tavern.” The archer replied, looking as though he were right at home. He laced his fingers behind his head and sighed deeply.

“So are you game for a little head-knocking, my oversized friend?” Kev asked.

The knight pulled the straw out of his helmet, and finally left the bulletins alone. “You know he’s hiding something,” he stated, sagely. “If we do it, we do it properly and not draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Last I need are the tinmen chasing me around.” After a moment, Zekuseeyros did the unthinkable. “What do you think?”

Kev raised his eyebrows at the silent knight’s longest speech yet. “You aren’t wrong. He’s definitely hiding something.” After a moment Kev shrugged, frowning. “Isn’t everyone who gives you this kind of work though? I think we can pull this off and get a quick payday, but we have to cover our asses. Maybe we find out more about this employer?”

“Maybe we find out more and can milk him again. Missing a fancy meal could do him good.” The knight in shining armor was not around; this mossman’s appearance spoke of his rotting morality.

“I knew we’d get along.” Kev admitted. “Maybe I follow him home tonight, figure out where he lives, who he is. Just to give us a little more insurance.” Kev tugged at his chin beard. “Then, if things turn south we can drop a tip to the tinmen about him.” Kev shrugged, picking up the shortbow and casually testing the string over the table.

Kev turned to Zek. “This could be good, are you in or out?”

“Out the moment I get my coin,” replied Zekuseeyros.

“Well, I didn’t think you were here for my sunny disposition.” Solid burn

“I’ve got big muscles and no brains, but you’ve got no brains and a big mouth.” Snap.

Kev stared for a moment and then stood up and slammed a fist on the table. “Ha! I didn’t think you had it in ya! Oh you aren’t wrong friend, you aren’t wrong.” Kev slung the bow over his shoulder, ignoring the people who had turned towards his shout. “I’ll go tell our friend we’re in.”

Kev sauntered over to the table, watching as they all stopped talking and turned to him. They were picking at a plate of bread and cheeses. Kev smiled and bent over, picking up a chunk of hard cheese. He bit into it with relish and groaned. “Oh tha’s good.” He said through a mouthful. Then he tossed it back onto the plate where it rolled off onto the table.

“We’re in. But I need your name.” Kev said, putting a finger in his mouth and picking cheese from his teeth.

“... my name?” The man, and the whole group, seemed rather uncomfortable. “... it’s, ugh… Oskarrd, yes.” He seemed embarrassed and very awkward in the presence of the mercenary. “... just… we’ll meet up later today, if that’s okay with you.”

“Oskarrd.” Kev repeated, staring down at him. “Oh that’s fine with me. I’m real easy going, ya know.” Kev leaned forward, still staring down at him. He waited a moment and then slapped the table suddenly. “Well… Oskarrd! We’ll meet you back here in a few breaks, eh. Although, maybe we should have our date ‘round back, less peeping toms, more intimate.” He walked away without waiting for a response.

“Yeah, he’s a liar. A bad one.” He confirmed to Zek once he plopped back down in his chair. “But,” Kev raised a finger. “A rich one!”