Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

How do you go about smuggling a One-winged Avriel into Athart?

38th of Ymiden 716

Old IC threads, abandoned or otherwise can be located within.
User avatar
Gurgeh
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Contribution

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
Date: 38th of Ymiden, 716
Location: Athart North Gate

The wagon trundled up to the gate, sullen prisoners crammed inside.

Finally, I'm back.

The last thirty trials had been especially annoying. Tygar had been increasingly worse as the trip wore on. He had been annoyed at the slow pace, and numerous delays had pushed him beyond his limits. The pathetic 'leader' had taken out his frustrations with various petty insults and goading, but Vyren wasn't playing his games. This, of course, made Tygar even more annoyed.

Vyren nudged his horse forward, happy to be back on a horse. His relationship with the poko hadn't fared much better than the one with Tygar, and both him and the beast were happy to be free of each other upon leaving the Hotlands. As the Vyren trotted past the cage, he locked eyes with the one-winged Avriel in shackles.

The pair had simply walked into camp, Vyren claiming he had found a runaway slave. He continued that he knew the original owner, and would be responsible for returning the Avriel, unharmed, as a gesture of good faith. He hinted that the owner would look favourably on the Raiders, but the subtly was lost on Tygar.

His rat nose twitching, Tygar had fumed and argued, but there was nothing he could do. Vyren had 'caught' Frid by himself, and that was all there was to it. If he was later to find out that Vyren had sold the slave, that would be a different story, but of course Vyren had no intention of doing that.

They pulled to a stop, and Vyren tried to reign in his horse. The beast, however, took it as a sign to sprint, and tore off. By some miracle, he managed to keep his seat, though his mad rush took him past a wagon, and nearly ran over a line of slaves. A chorus of shouts followed him, and he hunched over, waving apologetically. He trotted back to the group, and waited for their turn, ignoring Tygar's gloating smile.

He'll get his soon enough.
word count: 351
User avatar
Maltruism
General Staff
Posts: 2430
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 10:57 pm
Race: Prophet
Profession: "Mastermind"
Renown: 0
Plot Notes
Office
Personal Journal
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Staff

Miscellaneous

Events

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

It might have gone unnoticed by a simple traveler, or a common citizen returning from an errand outside the city proper; but the reaction to the brief loss of animal control elicited an excessive response from the guardrel at the gate.

There was an immediate defensive posture, that was both surprising and sloppy; as if the avriel there were either drunk, out of practice, or very new to their positions. Normally there would be a minimal reaction, as far as preparation for possible hostilities, and considerable laughter at the man trotting his horse back into line, waving sheepishly. Normally the avriel were far too confident in their strength to let a bit of horseplay get them rattled.

Even with the presence of Slave Raiders, which should have, if anything, bolstered their confidence, the three guards launched into fierce defensive positions. The leader spread his wings threateningly and brandished his polearm, shouting angry challenges that seemed to carry just a hint of fear. The second glided swiftly to the side to grab the one open side of the gate and begin swinging it shut as he moved back. Only then might an observant person note that the gate was half shut, where normally both sides stood open.

But it was the action of third - and again, memory would kick in, asking 'don't they usually guard the gate with four?' - that was the most telling. He left his post to launch airborne, shouting something in Lorien back to his fellows. The leader squawked something to his second, who literally shrieked a command at the departing guard, with heavy emphasis on the last word, as he vigorously pointed his finger at the spot the avriel had just vacated.

The third guard returned to the indicated spot, beginning to make some complaint. Both his superiors echoed a single syllable to quiet him. If anyone possessed knowledge of Lorien, they would have known the third guard was going to get help! It was unheard of! Especially, again, with the presence of Athartian Slave raider personnel. But even one with no knowledge of the avriel language might have surmised the gist of the exchange on nothing more than intuition.

Some of the Raiders even took brief, alarmed looks around, thinking enemies may have just been spotted. In a few ticks, everyone calmed to enough of a degree that the lead avriel furled his wings and took a more "parade" hold on his weapon. But his face was still angry as he approached the slave train. He stepped right up to the slaver in front, already displaying his ignorance of the fact that the Raider leader rarely rode in front, to offset ambush tactics.

"What are you doing here?" the avriel hissed. "Don't you know you are only supposed to bring new meat in through the south gate now? We can't have the provocation of dragging slaves through the human sector right now. It's bad enough you can't keep your own subordinates in line."

The slaver being addressed looked absolutely confused, and responded with a mute shrug as Tygar dismounted. The realization that he'd been talking to the wrong human only made the avriel angrier as the Raider squad leader approached. Now that he was closer, anyone could see this avriel was tense almost to the point of white knuckles. His gear seemed strangely ill-fitting, as if he'd been issued leftovers, and he had an overall disheveled and red-eyed appearance, as if he'd had little sleep.

Something was definitely up...
word count: 593
User avatar
Fridyr
Posts: 11
Joined: Sat Apr 23, 2016 12:42 pm
Race: Avriel
Renown: 0
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
'An avriel slave - that's new,' grumbled a voice. The tone was a basso, as if coming from a large man.

'Avriel no more, Thon,' another muttered. His voice was a medium pitch, but was fast and nervous.

'What do you mean, Raolin?' Gillan grunted in reply.

'Bastard is half-winged.' Raolin raced. 'He's a nothing here. I've been to Athart before. Without a wing or two, they're less than shit.'

The heads of seven slaves swung about in unison as the wagon stuttered on the road. Frid's arms were outstretched in a 'V', each arm securely latched to the cage by steel cuffs, bolted firmly in place. Blood had streamed down from each cuff to the armpit but had since dried up. His wing awkwardly was pushed up against the top of the cage. His head flopped about as if disconnected to his body and his eyes were closed. He stirred and raised his head up.

'Look who's finally awake,' whispered one of them.

Frid grimaced and attempted to shift his body. The shackles held him firmly and he promptly gave up. He opened his eyes and squinted in the light. His face was coated with dust and sweat.

The human prisoners were staring at him, equally filthy. Flies buzzed around their terrible stench. Their arms were behind their backs and shackled to the cage behind.

A big man, Thon, took up a quarter of the wagon had forced the rest of the slaves to be crammed up against each other. His beard was so dense it looked like a mound of black ants had crawled onto his face. His brows were equally black and curled over his eyes that were barely visible. He stared at Frid and grumbled: 'Less than shit huh. Sounds like we all have something in common then.' A few laughed.

Suddenly a sword speared the cage, missing one of the slaves by a hair. A loud clang rang out as the sword was withdrawn. The prisoners flinched in panic, some of them crying out in terror. A guard yelled at them and spit flew from his lips. 'Shut your mouths! Or next time it's blood!'

The guard in the red that signified the Arthartian Slave Traders, withdrew his mount from the wagon and went to talking with his comrade. They laughed among each other as one cracked a joke.

Once the guard was out of earshot, Thon murmured: 'You've seen a few Cylus' old one.'

Frid breathing was ragged. 'Too many,' He rasped.

'Heard you're already a slave. Ran from your owner. Not to be sold, but sent back,' interjected the nervous voice that belonged to Raolin. He was short and thin. His eye was closed and blackened and he sat crammed in with the others. His 'good' eye was wide and shifted about in all directions as if something was going to jump out and scare him.

Frid nodded. He furrowed his brows in guilt. 'I was on my way to the Hotlands before they got me.' He lied.

Silence.

'They should have cut your throat.' A sandy haired human spat, his voice louder over the rest.

'Keep your voice down, fool!' Thon hissed. 'Lest the guards test their blades on one of us!'

''One less avriel, you know.' The blonde man continued aloud, with eye blazing at Frid. 'Thanks to your lot, we're all in this mess-'

But before he could continue, he was headbutted by the larger man with a resounding crack. His head slumped forward. They all turned to glance at the guards, who laughed among each other again undisturbed. The slaves all relaxed in relief.

The larger man rested his head to the back of the cage with a sigh and looked down at Frid. 'I'm sure your used to that by now.'

'Unfortunately.' Frid said grimly. A long pause was filled with squeaking wheels of the wagon. 'So what's your story.'

Thon sighed again. 'Deserter. Lost me arm.' He shifted away from the bodies of other slaves and revealed an empty sleeve. 'They'll sell me to the arena probably. Though, I am hard to kill, without a sword arm, I'm fairly useless. Bit like you eh?' He grinned. Frid and he shared in a soft chuckle.

'You'll die with honour at least.' Frid lamented, staring out of the cage.

'Pah, they said that to me in the Legion.' He grinned. 'To me, death is death. We all end up the same way.'

'Well if its all the same for you, I prefer not to die in here.'

Thon nodded: 'Well, word of advice, old bird. You may know the slave traders, but this here group is a bit different. See that rat faced bastard over there?' His large head rolled to the side to face a figure at the front of the group. 'That's Tygar. He makes everyone seem like daisies in comparison. Keep your eyes down and your mouth shut. Hell, grovel if you have to. And you might live to see your owner.'

'I don't kiss feet,' Frid snarled.

'Do you want to live?'

'Probably not now.' He said defiantly.

Thon shook his head to himself. 'Stubborn old fool.'

----

A surge in activity shook the slaves awake. Athart's north gate was in view now. The slaves were silent and they stared at their fate fearfully and some, glumly. Frid looked past the slaves and cage toward the slavers on horses. When Vyren rode past his cage, Frid stared at him with a less than impressed look that said, 'This better work.' The old avriel watched Vyren's back as he went onward toward the gate.

Thon's brows lifted up as he glanced at Vyren and then at Frid. The old avriel met Thon's gaze with tight lips and then turned to look at the city. Suddenly, Vyren's horse surged forward, as if out of control and shouts erupted from both the slavers and the avriel guards. All of the slaves watched but none saw any humour in it.

'Three avriel guards. Only three? Not four? Why is there not four?' Raolin babbled in a low voice. 'This is odd, very odd.'

'You understand their squawking.' Thon grumbled to Frid, who was watching the avriel guards scramble in what seemed a sign of panic. 'What are they saying?'

'Guard is asking for...' Frid shook his head.

'What?'

'He's asking for help.' Frid whispered slowly.

All of the slaves turned towards the avriel with interest. Raolin began to speak but Thon raised a hand to quiet him as the avriel that seemed to be the superior to the other two guards approached with wings emblazoned. The avriel started speaking but was too far for the slaves to hear, though some tried to crane their necks to see if they could catch a few words. Frid could tell that the avriel had, in his nerves, spoken to one of the subordinate slavers and not with their leader, Tygar, who had approached the avriel in a rage.

'Feathered bastards are all riled up.' Raolin whispered, his voice running so quick he was barely pronouncing each word. 'I know Athartian guards. Been through here before you know. They are undermanned. Something big is happening.'
Image
word count: 1224
User avatar
Gurgeh
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Contribution

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
As Vyren turned back around, and caught sight of the reaction his brief loss of control had caused, his eyes widened.

What the hell is going on?

The immediate reaction was bad enough, but when he heard their words, his confusion deepened. Help? Since when do they need help? I'm a bloody Raider! He didn't notice the lack of a guard, but as the leader approached the wagon and began talking to a Raider in the front, he had to smother a smile.

Tygar is not going to like that.

And sure enough, the rat-man himself had hopped off his horse and began stalking towards the Avriel, rage rippling across his face.

Dumbass should've known better. We never ride with our leader in front... Though with Tygar you never know.

As the Avriel angrily spoke to the Raider, it took Vyren a minute to work out what the Avriel had said.

South Gate? Since when?

He peered closer at the Avriel, noticing for the first time his nervous stance, and his tense grip.

He's scared. Of what, I have no idea. But somethings ruffled his feathers. And he must be new if he talked to the first Raider in line... But why would the leader be new? That seems odd...

Shrugging, he discarded the thought for now. He leaned forward, trying to make sure that his horse didn't move, but wanting to eavesdrop all the same. As Tygar got close to the Avriel, he realized he didn't need to try. Tygar was about to make a scene big enough to be heard in the PIt.

"Who the hell do you think you are!?" HIs voice shrieked, rising through two full octaves. "You think this...this...thing is me? Is in charge? And what's this bullshit of us having to go through the South Gate. Fuck you. We're going through here one way or another. I don't give a shit what you say. You try and stop us, and I'll have you explain to Lynrae why you held me up."

His voice was annoying and high pitched, and his anger had him shaking. His hand was twitching, as if it wanted nothing more than to draw and kill the Avriel that stood before him. Somehow, he found a reservoir of restrain deep inside, and he relaxed his hand. Vyren sighed, disappointed.

That might've been fun.

He spared a quick glance back to the wagon, making sure to gaze to either side first, so it looked as if he were just checking on the slaves. He saw a small stir of excitement, which was quickly smothered. Frid didn't appear to be in the process of getting killed, so that was enough for Vyren.

I just need him alive.

With a shout, Tygar turned back to the rest of the group, throwing up his hands in exasperation. He looked as if he were deliberating something, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet.

He wheeled around, and grabbed the reigns of the wagon, pulling it forward as if to run over the Avriel that now stood, blocking the path. Vyren's mouth dropped open at the sheer stupidity incarnate that somehow was his commander.

What the fuck is he doing??
word count: 551
User avatar
Maltruism
General Staff
Posts: 2430
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 10:57 pm
Race: Prophet
Profession: "Mastermind"
Renown: 0
Plot Notes
Office
Personal Journal
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Staff

Miscellaneous

Events

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

In a last act of focused anger, the avriel guard leader slammed his polearm weapon in between the thick, wooden spokes of the cart's wheels, bringing the thing to a sudden lurching halt. Before the Raider leader, Tygar, even got the first profane word from his mouth, the avriel swept out with a metal-valanced wing. It was an iconic piece of exclusive avriel wing armor, that allowed the limb to be used as a passable bludgeon. It caught the human in the side of the head and would have sent him tumbling, but for the immediate follow up pounce by the incensed bird-man.

It was possible that the guard was so maddened that he didn't even recall that the metal sheathing on his valanced wingtips were sharpened to use as slashing weapons. It was also possible that he wanted to kill the raider with his bare, clawed hands. The flame in his eyes and the screeching, Lorien profanity strongly indicated the latter. There were a first few ticks of utter shock, on the part of the other humans anyway, before they took hesitant steps to rescue their boss.

They were answered by demands from the other two avriel to drop their weapons and face the dirt. These demands were emphasized with gleaming halberd tips already half-pierced through red leather garb. There was definite terror in the eyes of these two guards, outnumbered as they were. But the stunned humans had enough experience to know that a terrified foe could perform unbelievable feats just as often as an enraged one could. And they may even be more easily triggered to do so.

The one-sided beating seemed destined to end in death when suddenly an almost earth-shaking impact just a few feet away caused everything to come to a halt. A large stone had hit the ground. All eyes but Tygar's turned to look at it, and then, as one, tracked upward to see a foursome of hovering avriel, three of whom still held their stones. The two weapon-wielding avriel calmed noticeably and stepped back several paces as the avriel who had released his stone now swept down to take command.

The avriel who had beaten Tygar showed no remorse whatsoever, and nothing about the new arrival's demeanor indicated that he desired any such thing. But he did instruct his subordinate to allow the cart through. Tygar seemed to think this somehow vindicated him and once again flew into a rage, beginning to demand some sort of reprisal against his attacker.

His plaint was cut short as he was slammed against the side of the cart by the new arrival. The Overguard commander's voice carried as much violence as Tygar's face already displayed, "Red leather or not, human, you are not gifted with the option of disobedience! The next time, I will personally watch you fly from the north cliff, and your Raider General will cheer as loud as any. Do you understand me?"

The moment of silent refusal to answer was sufficient to bring a growl from the throat of the gate squad leader. The Overguard held up his hand at him without looking, bringing immediate silence. He slammed Tygar's head against the wagon a second time, "ANSWER ME! DO YOU?"

The fighting spirit seemed to drain from Tygar all at once and he muttered his concession. The Overguard released him and waved the wagon through. As the chained, one winged avriel rolled by, the gate leader called a halt, and approached, malice beaming in his face. "What have we here?..." The Overguard allowed his subordinate a few ticks of threats and taunting but ultimately passed the slave wagon through the gate.

The three airborne avriel dropped their stones and returned to their posts as the Overguard and the gate squad met in hushed tones. All that any of the humans were allowed to hear was that "...it will show the humans that we do not play favorites." The scorn in this remark was followed up by coarse laughter as the Overguard took wing and the gate squad resumed their positions atop their low towers.
word count: 697
User avatar
Fridyr
Posts: 11
Joined: Sat Apr 23, 2016 12:42 pm
Race: Avriel
Renown: 0
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
The slaves and their guards were all caught up in the confrontation. The slaves moved their heads to get a better view and the guards nudged their horses about, hands resting on sword pommels in battle readiness.

Frid was unfortunately afforded little room for movement. He was still pinned by the wrist to the cage and his head was forced forward. With a view that was now obstructed by a craning head of an adjacent slave, Frid gave up getting a look and his eyebrow tilted, helping to 'open' his ears to hear the words clearly. Frid noticed Thon, with his large size, had clear view of the scene ahead.

'Those guards are in for it now.' Thon rumbled to Frid, as he peered at the situation. His voice was deep enough to go unregistered to the red guards nearby. 'Tygar is going to hit 'im.'

'Tygar's going for his sword...' Raolin whispered in excitement.

Frid scowled. 'Tygar is a fool,' his voice creaked as the tirade continued. The comment garnered a few shifting eyes from the other slaves.

'Tygar.' Thon's eyes flickered behind his heavy brows and lashes as if in thought. He flicked a look at Frid. 'He gets his own way...'

Frid met his look and shook his head. His eyes were tired. 'Not with the avriel.' He said simply.

Frid's view was suddenly clear of obstruction as the slaves around Frid began to shrink back into their seats. Tygar was approaching them. Heads were lowered and bodies made as small as could be for fear of being singled out. Frid could do little with his head, being chained up against the cage, but he didn't attempt to anyway. He simply watched the slaving leader with a look of calm, while Tygar, who was caught up in his rage, took the reins of the wagon and began to lead them on into the city-

-Shuunck-

The polearm seem to surprise all but Frid it would seem, who was anticipating that the guard would make his move. He watched the familiar sight of avriel, for which he knew too well, were establishing the same point to all other races: that they were superior to all. When the avriel had lashed out at Tygar and ordered the guards as they had the slaves, Frid suddenly remembered Vyren and glanced about to find him. When he did, Frid turned up to his hand and noticed the lines of age that spread over it like a map. Frid was old and he didn't really care anymore. But Vyren was young...

Frid head lowered at the realization.

They were all about to be slaughtered.

Nothing, save for what was to approach would have spared their lives. All, from slaves to slavers to the avriel guards, shot their attention towards the hurling stones. On seeing the Overguard commander, Frid eyes widened and he let out a huff of air through gritted teeth. Perhaps they would be spared...

Perhaps all, but Tygar.

The slaver leader did not seem to understand the avriel. And the avriel understood little but of their total superiority. The Overguard himself was hard on Tygar as he beat the slave leader into submission. And submission was achieved. Once Tygar was dealt with, a yell from the slavers had the horses heaving forward and the wagon's wheels squeaked as they began to turn again and to rattle towards the gate.

And lurched with a sudden stop.

The Overguard had noticed Frid with almost a tinge of excitement. Frid turned up his chin as the Overguard approached, with a look that meant he wanted a bit of cruel fun. Frid gave them no reaction as he watched them with pursed lips, even when they laughed that he would never fly again, that he was old, pathetic and was less than even the human's slaves' that surrounded him.

Time seemed to tick slower with each wave of insults until the guards were running out of steam and the Overguard motioned the wagon to continue.

When they passed into the gate, Frid's ears pricked up as he heard something peculiar from the guards, that the guards were showing the humans they '...do not play favourite.' With the laughter that followed, the words were mulled over Frid's mind as he wondered what they meant.

Frid noticed Thon and Raolin, and all of the other slaves, had lowered their eyes ever since the guards were insulting Frid. The slave guards had their horses close to the wagon now and Thon looked up to Frid. Mutely, they locked eyes and Thon's face was searching for Frid's emotion. Frid turned away, denying Thon of his search and instead looked through the cage at the city that unfolded before them.
Image
word count: 802
User avatar
Gurgeh
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Contribution

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
As he made to move the cart forward, it was jerked to a halt by the Avriel shoving the shaft of his weapon between the wagon spokes, jerking the wagon to a halt. He watching in astonishment as the Avriel battered Tygar with his wings and leapt forward.

Vyren voted to stay still, realizing the danger they were all in if they hurt an Avriel. The others seemed to be of the same mind, as only a few took a hesitant step forward. The other guards yelled towards the remaining Raiders to get down, but Vyren had shifted himself far enough back that he felt safe not moving for the moment.

He was content to watch the mad scene play out in front of him. It was once of those moments that is so crazy that you can hardly believe it's happening. They had come to and from the city countless times before with no issues, but all of a sudden they were about to be stuck like a pig.

The stone crashing heavily made him jump, and he watched as the Avriel landed.

A new player has entered the game.

Disappointment unravelled inside of him as Tygar would be let to live, and a sigh seemed to go out of the surrounding Raiders as they realized they wouldn't be killed this trial. Just as he thought the exciting entrance would make nothing more than a mediocre drinking story to share back at headquarters, Tygar tried to push it further.

He stared in shock as the weaselly man's protests split the air, looking at Aleia as her widened eyes met his. Her stare told him she felt the same way, and was just about ready to kill him. Tygar had steered clear of her after his gaff, but this was more than making up for the distance he had kept. Her eyes burned with a barely controlled fury, cooling only after the Avriel Commander dealt with him.

The wagon started on its way again, Tygar's face burning with shame and embarrassment, but was quickly brought to a halt as the guards caught sight of Frid. Luckily, they only seemed interested in taunting the cripple, though Vyren's shoulders were tense until they were free through the gates.

As they entered the city, Vyren waited for his moment. Finally, as they were near the centre of the living quarters, he halted the wagon. He didn't look at Tygar, knowing how much the man would be itching to lash out. He quickly entered the wagon and unchained Frid, leading the Avriel out as he called out to Aleia.

"I'll be back later this afternoon!"
word count: 448
User avatar
Fridyr
Posts: 11
Joined: Sat Apr 23, 2016 12:42 pm
Race: Avriel
Renown: 0
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
Frid and the other slaves swiveled their heads about at their new surroundings. The city was bustling. Humans squeezed between the wagon and the edges of the narrow roadway, feet sloshing in mud filled gutters from last rain. Avriel wings whispered overhead, paths criss-crossing as if following invisible streets. Their altitude, high above the city, seemed symbolic of their tightly controlling grip on the city. Their view above were framed by squat buildings of stone, with balconies overhead, strewn with lines of washing attempting to dry in the jungle humidity. Beyond, other buildings loomed and further still, almost lost in the haze, were enormous rock pillars clad with jungle growth.

The wagon halted with the hustle and bustle of road traffic. The rest of the slavers kept their pace, while Vyren used the lull in traffic to open the cage door. Lines of concern had spread over Frid's face as he glanced at the other guards and Tygar - their minds seemed preoccupied with their eventful entry into the city. Vyren unlatched Frid's wrists and the old bird's body fell forward as he regained his full weight once again. The slaves used their legs to stop the old one from finding ground and he managed to raise himself up to his feet. Shaking, his wrists were restrained and he followed Vyren out. Some of the slaves were groaning for release. Frid's single wing beat about as he attempted to free it from the cage and the flinching slaves.

'Farewell, Avriel,' Thon grumbled out. The cage doors were shut by a different guard. Frid glanced back through the cage and met the saddened eyes of his large acquaintance.

Frid could only nod to Thon before staggering through the mud on the edge of the road. Vyren called to his comrade of his return that afternoon, turned a corner and just like that, they were free of their roles of slaver and slave, and instead, able to assume their new role of co-conspirators.

Frid rubbed his wrists and saw the imprint of the shackles that had dug red bloody rings around them. 'Those poor bastards,' he coughed and his entire body shook. The conditions left him sore, sick and smelly. 'What a foul life it is to be a slave.'

He suddenly let out a wheeze as he laughed. 'Did you see Tygar get pummeled by that Avriel? What a sight that was!' He suddenly realised he was praising the Avriel and that he had fallen once again into the tell-tale signs of Avriel superiority. His face suddenly grew serious as a few human passerbys gave his show of mirth a sour look and when they realised he had only one wing, several of those faces changed to smug grins.
He darkened.

'My contact from the Wing Clippers is nearby.' He glanced upwards. 'Last I was here, many many arcs ago, I was up above. Never walked these streets.' He turned about to get his bearings, but the surrounding buildings blocked the view beyond. 'This way...'

He turned into an alley and was hit with an awful odour. The smell of the city were all riddled with the smell of sewerage, thrown from windows to splatter on streets. In the alley, a lack of proper ventilation, allowed the smells to coalesce into a vomit-inducing stench.

As Frid's eyes managed to adjust to the lack of light, he noticed two robed figures approach from within the alley. Frid turned toward Vyren, only to find a knife pointed at his throat instead, held by an equally robed figure who had appeared at the alley entrance. Frid flicked his eyes down to realise Talon, his sword, was missing, still held by Vyren along with the few possessions he had. He stared wide eyed at his assailant, noting that the only part of him that could be seen were yellowed teeth revealed as the cracked lips spoke. 'It 'aint worth it, wingless.'

Frid froze while the knife pressed his vulnerable neck, close to drawing blood. Another figure had appeared shortly after the first, from the entrance of the alley. Her face was uncovered. The inky eyes were undoubtedly Avriel and her shabby brown robes, were flat on her back and empty of wing. Her knife was drawn toward Vyren's neck too, but the delayed approach allowed the Athartian Slaver a bit more time to react, if he risked doing so...
Image
word count: 743
User avatar
Gurgeh
Posts: 31
Joined: Wed Apr 20, 2016 9:47 pm
Race: Qi'ora
Renown: -30
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Contribution

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
Vyren hadn't fully appreciated the effect that seeing the city from this perspective would have on Frid. It had been arcs ago that he had stumbled his way through these streets, though his land-locked nature was by choice, hardly the same as Frid's case.

He pushed the thought from his mind, remembering his goal. Bring down Athart. That simple. He might have to betray the Wing Clippers at some point in the future, and he couldn't get too close to any of them. That would only hurt him.

He gazed upwards as he led Frid from the cage, gazing at the Avriel overhead with a modicum of concern, smoothing it away before any of the Raiders caught it.

Frid rubbed at his wrists as Vyren undid the heavy shackles, stowing them in a rucksack over his shoulder. The red marks looked raw on his wrists, but Vyren felt no pity. "At least you're alive and inside the city. Immortals know how you were planning on getting in otherwise."

He gave a noncommittal grunt at Frid's statement, disagreeing but seeing no point in arguing. It didn't serve him to alienate Frid either- ideally he needed to be close acquaintances. Close enough to ask favours for, but not so close as to begin to really know each other.

He had to grin at his enjoyment of Tygar's beating, glad that someone else liked it as much as he did. The embarrassment and humiliation Tygar suffered had almost made up for the petty torments Vyren had been subject to.

He made a mental note to avoid Tygar for the next few trials as Frid led him down a side alley, the stench of excrement nearly making him gag. The darkness of the alley was as good as night to his eyes, finally adjusting after what felt like ages.

Just to see a glint of metal at Frid's throat, a cloaked figure standing close behind. With a muffled curse he leaped backwards, towards the alley entrance, only to stumble into another figure. He felt a slash across his shoulder, the metal blade flying off to the side as the two collapsed into an ungainly heap on the ground.

He rolled away, trying to get free, but their limbs were too tangled and he simply wound up tripping himself. The woman let out an impressive string of expletives as she surveyed the unidentifiable clumps that now stuck to her robes. She looked at Vyren, her inhuman eyes betraying no emotion. He tried to leap to his feet again, and managed to get one leg free, but a quick kick from her brought him low again.

By the time he went to stand, the blade was at his throat.

"Nice and slow. We don't need any heroes."

Vyren raised his hands, dropping Frid's gear in the slop underfoot as he did so. An apologetic glance his way was all Frid would get. She made him turn, and she prodded him forward, the knife pricking his back uncomfortably. The clawed hand that held it showed no signs of uncertainty or nervousness, and Vyren forced himself to relax. As it stood there was no way to get free, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Frid had mentioned that his contact was supposed to meet him here, and the Avriel that stood behind him had no wings. This might just be his way in.

He was prodded, like cattle, through a door into a dimly lit house. He saw a plain stone wall, and smelled laundry soap as a black scarf was tied around his head. He could only hope Frid was still with him, as any attempt to turn around was met with a jab in the back. Up, down and around, he was soon lost. Finally, the blindfold was removed, and he found himself in a damp stone room, the only decoration a solid wood table and three chairs. He was forced to a chair, his hands quickly bound as his captor left. A thud echoed through the room as the heavy door shut, and he turned to examine the rest of the room.
word count: 701
User avatar
Fridyr
Posts: 11
Joined: Sat Apr 23, 2016 12:42 pm
Race: Avriel
Renown: 0
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Sneaky Beaky In [Fridyr]

Image
Frid turned sharply toward Vyren who had suddenly leapt and crashed into the assailants.

'Leave him be-' He bellowed before the knife at his neck dug deeper and stifled his voice. He raised his chin and pulled away just enough to ease the bite of the rusted blade. Yet despite his own predicament, Frid's eyes rounded as Vyren grew tangled among his foes. The female Avriel intervened and kicked the human back to the ground and ended the scuffle as she pointed her blade at him.

Frid exhaled as if relieved at the outcome and winced from the pain that shot up his neck. Seeing his possessions squelch into the city's sewage made him wince again and the knife reminded him to straighten lest the wound be made deeper.

The knife left his neck and he before he could relax, he was shoved forward.

'Easy.' Frid managed as he and Vyren were directed through a door nearby.

Material was flung over his face and enclosed his eyes. The blindfold smelled, or perhaps it was the room, like the clean clothing washed by his late wife.

How I would give to be with her another day... He thought. Yet here I am.

They continued on. It seemed they were going deeper below Athart. Soon he was stopped, placed in a room, secured to a chair and the blindfold was removed. He glanced about the room of stone, lit by torches that illuminated a table and three chairs. He turned abruptly to his side and noticed Vyren nearby, tied to the chair as he.

Frid couldn't help betray a look of concern. His wound, despite soaking the front of his shirt red, was not serious and had clotted. His wrists were also bruised and bloody. His clothes were now rags. His wing, was muddy and ruffled. He looked like a battered old man.

The corner of his lip suddenly raised into a cheeky grin. 'I know it looks bad.' Not indicating whether he referred to his appearance or the situation they were in.

He regarded Vyren with greater respect. The human was fearless in the face of the assailants and almost got away. Thankfully they did kill him, for now at least.

'Let me handle this.' Frid whispered as the brass door handle jiggled suddenly and swung open. The same, yellow toothed human, was now standing ahead at attention. His gloved hand held the door ajar for one, who was not in view yet, but heard by the clacking boots echoing in the hallway.

Appearing at the doorway, in the dim light, was a tall, thin fellow. His face was sharp and harsh, with a pointed chin and feathers stretched back from a pale face. His eyes were inky, but soft and almost sleepy. His clothing was simple, a fitted cloak that trailed his gait and loose trousers. He bore no wings.

'Immortals. What did you do to them?' He indicated at the state of Fridyr and Vyren. His voice was soft, but almost powerful in the way it was uttered. He glared at yellow-tooth who suddenly looked downcast.

As the tall Avriel strode in, so too did the female Avriel of before, she glared at Vyren. Behind them, a straggly haired human, with clear blue eyes and rough beard.

'My name-' Frid began.

'We know who you are.' The tall Avriel nudged a chair with his foot and slowly sat on it. The chair creaked under his weight. The others followed suit. His leg rested on the other. 'You are Fridyr. We received your message some time ago. I am Lodyn, just another who serves the Wingless.'

'Who's the slaver?' The female Avriel grated. 'Real trouble he caused before.' She sniffed as if trying to lose a bad smell.

'Now, now, Anyra.' Lodyn had held up his hand, silencing her. He now regarded Vyren, his eyes hardening. 'There is some explaining for you to do.'
Image
word count: 659
Post Reply Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “IC Archives”