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Cyradis was somewhat reluctant to continue the journey. The power in the trees fascinated her in a scholarly way. Why would a tree on a remote island be such a conduit? Was the whole island this way? There were a million other questions she wanted to discover the answers to, but unfortunately, not only did she lack the knowledge to study earthen arcana, but it was likely something to take at least a year. And that's if she found the power's source.
Eventually, her intrest passed to the back of her mind as she concentrated on workign her way through the jungle behind Kaltor's trailblazing. They came to a series of drops almost as far down as Cyradis was tall. Archamae, who seemed to be far more knowledgeable than anyone realized, recognized the formation as a terrace. Taking a closer look at the drop behind her, she could just make out the masoned stones behind the vine sheath. Minutes later, the group entered a ruined city, and Cyradis' intrest in this island was renewed full-force.
The entire place was made of masoned stone bricks not unlike the ones that were used to build the terrace. There was a definate city plan and roadway system. Whoever these people were, they were quite civilized, and perhaps even advanced for thier time. Exploring the ruin was like being at a fair. Though there was nothing left to tell Cyradis anything about the former inhabitants, she considered bringing something back for Arlen to apply his expertise in the matter.
Ducking into a nearby house to look for some pottery or drawings to retrieve, Cyradis heard Kaltor suddenly shout and shepard Arch into the house with Cyradis. Ducking down instinctively, Cyradis gathered almost immediately that they were being attacked by someone. Apparantly the ruins had not been entirely abandoned. While Archamae readied her weapons, Cyradis tenatively tapped into the magic around her. She was still unsure of the effect those magical trees were playing on the natural ley energy. Gently brushing the nearest flow, it responded typically, and Cyradis drew it in.
So far there was no apparantly link between the natural magic and whatever was affecting the trees. Cyradis turned her attention to the present as she felt herself fill with power. As Arch fired her enchanted crossbow, Cyradis took the oppertunity to peek out a window next to the door with her now-glowing eyes. Someone was limping away with a number of small bolts in both his legs, but she saw no on else.
"I guess we're camping here after all," Cyradis said somewhat tensely, "Anyone know how many of them there are?"
OOC: I've asked Zed to discontinue his posts here for the moment. I'm happy that this thread is doing so well, and it's good quality writing, and I just didn't think Zed was at a strong enough level to continue with us. We'll keep Wintrow with us as an NPC, free for anyone to us.
IC:
"Wait!" Wintrow interrupted the stowaway before he'd even had a chance to speak.
"What now?" Gabe was obviously exasperated.
Grinding his teeth in an effort to not say the wrong thing, the captive forced himself to be polite, "I'm sorry about your friends," the words came slow. His voice was deep and mournful, and Gabe actually thought it genuine. "I wish... I wish it didn't have to happen like that."
"Playing to my better side now?" It was half a joke and half a serious question.
Wintrow raised his head and locked eyes with the Captain, "No games." As Gabe looked into his eyes he saw that they were cold and hard. These were eyes that had seen things that troubled their owner. One could only guess as to what the half-Orc had locked up inside himself, but it was easy to understand why someone with such a history would use his strength and pride as a shield.
"How can I trust you?" he finally asked.
Gabe was really asking for more. I need to understand, he thought to himself. And Wintrow complied, "I left my clan because there was no place for me there. My father openly refers to me as His Bane and my mother died long ago. There is nothing for me there. I have lived in oppression long enough. I'd rather die than go back. So, I took a chance and gambled on this ship." If this guy was acting he was damn good at it. "If you're not going to give me a chance then just put me out of my misery. I would rather cease to live than be trapped in a prison for a moment longer." There was sincerity in every word he spoke.
From the corner of his eye he saw Meg looking at him like she already knew what he was going to do, and it annoyed him to no end. She seemed to catch his discomfort and squeaked a giggle into the empty silence. Gabe let out a long sigh, "Untie him," he gave the command to Jade, "I'll give you your chance. No weapons until I say otherwise, and all engineering sections are off limits." Just then Xavier entered carry what looked like sketches, "You'll report to Xavier. Your his aid until further notice and will help us to repair the Dawn. Welcome aboard Mr. Wintrow."
Xavier seemed completely uninterested in getting a new assistant, and was instead eagerly shoving the drawings into Gabe's hands and explaining about an idea he had to convert the ship's balloon to mast and sails plans to add gears and levers to the turbines to make them fully rotatable and Gabe had to admit that being able to sail on water when all else failed would be a great backup.
“Sounds like a lot of work. Can we do all this?”
Xavier just shrugged as if it was no big deal. Gabe could tell he’d made up his mind and would find a way to make everything he’d just explained a reality, “Hardest part will be putting up the masts. It will require completely different rigging and all that sewing... but it’s doable.”
“Well, then I trust you. Take Wintrow here and get to it,” he smiled and gave his engineer a pat on the shoulder, then watched as the pair left to start Xavier’s latest project. For a man with half a memory Gabe wondered where he was always coming up with these ideas and new inventions.
Gabe was left with Meg and Jade and their stowaway, “Now then, where were we? Oh yes. I’m Gabriel Solomon, Captain of this ship, and you are a no good rat who snuck aboard and stole our supplies. Now that we’ve been introduced I think you should tell me why we shouldn’t leave you tied up in the jungle for some over-sized snake to gobble down,” he smiled widely. No reason this couldn’t be a little fun.
-o0o-
Sephara wiped a thick layer of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt. They'd be trudging through not just a jungle, but a giant overgrowth of branches, moss, vines, and other assorted vegetation. She owed Gabe a punch in the face for giving her this assignment.
Swinging her machete several times to cut away a thick vines blocking the path, she angrily yelled at it, "I... was... born... on the... plains... damn you!" Behind her she could hear Aram's chuckling. Arlen, thankfully for his own sake, or maybe hers, had kept quiet. She was ready to strike at anything that she could inflict pain upon. Aram was an old friend, but Arlen was a relative stranger she wouldn't have had any trouble taking her anger out on.
"KHUTRA NOM!" she exclaimed in bitter frustration.
"Don't think that was a smart thing to do ma'am," Arlen's cool, experienced voice came from behind her. Looking back she remembered the edge of warning it had possessed, but at the time she thought she was being chided.
With the force of a tornado she turned and closed the gap between them, "Well then please, tell me oh wise one, how you're going to be able to give such wonderful nuggets of wisdom when I bash in your skull," her fury carried to a new height.
Arlen's eyes weren't even looking at her, he was checking the surrounding trees, and it incensed her even more. Luckily before she did anything else stupid, he replied with the only words that got her to suppress her emotions back to controllable levels,
"I think we're being watched..."
OOC: Kich, waiting for your cue to initiate what we talked about last night ^_^
Ren and Dar, balls in your court. Not sure if that's where you were going with it, but figured it was in the right direction.
Oh, and Vagrant, Mike, even Darlok... hope you guys are still around. You should all know, I have no problems pushing on without you, and it seems neither does anyone else =D
EDIT TO DARLOK: Dude, come on. You're going 3 or 4 days between posting and giving us 1 or 2 paragraphs? I know you're more the capable enough to move plot along and jump in, as I mentioned, this is in your's and Ren's hands. Seph is just along for the ride. Kich's char Xavier is back on the ship, what we discussed has to do with the chars still there, so no need to worry about that ^_^ I demand more from you sir.
OOC: Yep. Was planning something like that myself. thanks for starting it. :) wanted to let darlok catch up though. he can always retro. will post tomorrow I think. maybe tonight, i'll figure it out in a bit. Darlok is showing as online, so i'll just wait and see what happens.
Aram bound through the brush like a child, taking big strokes with his sword as if he were being attacked by the overgrowth surrounding them. Ahead of him, Seph let out a loud curse, her frustration beginning to show. "KHUTRA NOM!" Aram chuckled. He had known Seph for a long time now, and rarely had he seen her visibly frustrated to the point of cursing aloud. Beside him, Arlen voiced his disapproval at Seph's words. That seemed the last straw as the first mate turned and began to focus her frustration on Arlen until he managed to get in a word between Seph's ranting. "I think were being watched..."
At those seemingly innocent words, Aram felt the hair on his neck stand on end. Glancing about, Aram wondered what caused Arlen to say such a thing. All around, the vegetation looked the same. Dense, tall, green. How would anyone be able to watch them through this infernal jungle? Still, Aram knew that Arlen was a traveller, experienced in these srot of situations. Aram held his sword at the ready. "What makes you think were being follwed?"
OOC: Not sure what you got discussed Geco or Kich, so I'll hang on from moving further just yet...I'll be on and off URP all day today though, so I'll get caught up. ;)
...
OOC: Heh, this sounds like it'll be fun. :)
I agree with Geco on this though, Darlok. I'll PRP your character along if we have to, as I will be gone I can understand it needing to be done at times, however I won't do it forever. He's going to be rather periphery if you don't set him into the plot. You must make room yourself. Perfect opportunities never come, and there is never a time when it is ideal. You make those opportunities yourself, and you make the ideal moment. In life, and in anything, this is true.
IC:
Perhaps it was a mistake to warn them. Or perhaps it was a mistake to bring the young cook. Being that these situations could potentially be dangerous, it might have been a folly to bring someone with little to no survival skills. In either case, neither party had the element of surprise anymore. "How do you know we're being followed?" Aram asked and Arlen's eyes traced over to him without moving his head. He looked back to Sephara and gave a comforting smile, like he felt it would be all okay, and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Because you get a seventh sense about these sort of things," he explained simply. Arlen turned his back on Sephara and Aram, and walked a few paces toward the denser jungle, overgrown and menacing in its own right. "Put your sword down, boy. You don't fight someone before knowing what they want. It's just not decent," Arlen cautioned.
Arlen threw his machete point first into the ground where it wagged side to side. Aram put his sword down, though still in hand. A calm boy, Arlen knew the adventurer had a romanticism starting for the blade. Sephara, wise in her youth but still firey, had tossed her anger aside instantly upon the thought that they were surrounded and being watched. The whole idea was, truthfully, quite unsettling, and always would be.
"Hello," Arlen said to the jungle, projecting confidence in his voice, "We are travelers and new to your land. Our ship crashed here. We come in peace, and wish only to be friends. There is much to learn from each other, I am sure."
Silence. Apparently, they are wary for a reason. Perhaps the other settlement and the inland peoples didn't get along. If that were the case, then Arlen hoped they realized the small group was not affiliated with them. Perhaps, though, they have a remembrance of where they came from and why they left there. Hopefully, in either case, they were not the cannibal variety of primitive.
"Suto," Arlen said in a foreign tongue. In his sailing days, he'd come across some isolated groups that controlled several chains of smaller islands. It wasn't far from Coral, relatively. It was possible they were related somehow. "Hekame la moatuloka kahemo maka moloaka. Uhm..." A few moments went by while Arlen rubbed his chin, trying to remember how to relate a ship crashing when one of them dropped from a tree above them and landed a few paces beside Arlen.
"Mekoatola pehuha alanameka a'auila'u?" Arlen turned to the man and was not surprised that he wore very little real clothing. He was covered in green ropes and looked like the jungle itself. Besides that, he wore a loincloth made of some coarse fabric. He was strong, lean, quite lanky, and tall. Most intimidating was the spear he carried, no doubt tipped with some poisonous substance. Wasting no time, Arlen brought his hands up to either side of his chest, palms forward and fingers straight out. He bowed his head and pushed his hands out away from his body in greeting.
The strange representative looked at Arlen suspiciously. "You know old language," he said, like it was awkward and unnatural. He made a motion with his head, "How?"
Arlen looked the man in the eyes and the corners of his mouth perked up, "I lived with your brothers many many days ago. They called themselves Awai'aka."
The native simply grunted and looked up at the trees around them. Motioning with his hand, four others like him dropped all around bearing spears. "You will see Grandfather Pu'aki. We see if you no kaukipua. Not here to steal T'a'u'weke. Not like others that come."
Arlen bowed in agreement, "I am Arlen Vegough, this is my..." he scratched his head and motioned to Sephara, "My... chief? Leader?" his hand moved about while he tried a few words, but they seemed to escape him. Rather, he motioned at Aram, "This is Aram, a young but good cook." He smiled and motioned like he was eating something with his fingers. "We'll happily speak to Grandfather Pu'aki."
The tall man stuck a thumb to his chest "Weka'u," he spoke and turned. Raising his spear into the air he walked forward through the vine Sephara had chopped to bits, his men grunted in unison following him, escorting the trio. Arlen looked at his two companions and motioned for them to gather themselves up as he grabbed his machete and fell in line.
"Not bad," Sephara acknowledged Arlen with a smirk tugging at her lips. "I'll do the talking with this Pu'aki," she said, and Arlen agreed. "But I want you as my counselor in this... I'm impressed that you know their language."
Arlen shook his head, "I don't, really. What I said and what he said were quite different. Just close enough we can understand each other." His eyes opened wide with a skeptical look on his face, "They must have been here a long time... And had a lot of hostile visitors... These latest ones probably settled. Goodness knows, there's nothing here to warrant spears but other people."
"Good point," Sephara replied. "Good thing we don't know anything about what they might accuse us of stealing."
"T'a'u'weke is a god of fire to the Awai'aka," Arlen mumbled, "I don't know how you would steal a god." He shrugged, "Maybe the Awai'aka came from here, instead of the other way around."
OOC:
So. Thoughts? Like the direction?
OOC: Yeah, I guess apologies may be in order for a lack of....commitment, in my posts lately. I guess I've just been rather uninspired by life in general and it has been showing in my writing.
IC:
Aram felt foolish at Arlen's rebuke. He knew better then to act rashly. Words were his forte, and why he had been with the crew so long. And now here he was, brandishing a weapon he barely knew how to use at an unseen audience. He had been so intoxicated by this strange land, so unlike the cities where Aram was normally put to good use, that the cook was unsure how to act and possibly even a little spooked. Rather then continuing to criticize Aram, Arlen turned towards the bush and the invisible person. Or perhaps People.
Hello," Arlen called out, "We are travelers and new to your land. Our ship crashed here. We come in peace, and wish only to be friends. There is much to learn from each other, I am sure."
Aram, sword still in hand but pointed towards the lush green underfoot, slowly glanced side-to-side in search of a body, any body. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Arlen gave a call in a language Aram had never heard before. The call could have been a greeting or a warning, Aram was unsure. It seemed to have the effect the explorer desired though, as a tall and slender man dropped from the sky and landed among them. The stranger and the traveler made conversation, first in the strange language and then in common, and with a signal four others dropped from above to surround the group. Aram had heard enough to know they were going to go to the village of these tribesmen. Sheathing his sword, Aram fell in behind Arlen and Seph as the group headed west-northwest. From what little he could see between the tops of the trees, the giant volcano was almost straight to the North and getting closer.
~~~~
As the group entered the boarders of the small village, the children leaned out of windows and doors yelling in their strange language. Mothers shooed the children, trying in vane to distract the little ones from what would obviously become a topic of discussion for years to come. The houses were built fairly close together and made of wood and clay, with clay tiles on the roof to keep out the tropical storms that occasionally hit the islands. The homes were to the left and right, with the path the group walked down being the main street, of sorts. Strange smells came from several of the houses, probably families cooking dinner over a fire. Several of the smells were new and quite appealing. Strange for a man, even a cook, to think of food at such a serious time as this. The truth was, Arlen and Seph were the experienced ones here and although in normal times Aram himself would take the lead when talking to dignitaries, here he would be of little help.
As the pathway came to an end, it arrived at what these people must have thought was a palace. The truth was that it was a shack, much like the others the group had past. The only real difference was that it was two stories high. Just before the locals lead the group through the entrance, Aram took one last look at the massive volcano looming over head. Was it just his imagination? Or had he seen a reflection, possibly a mirror or glass? Aram shook his head. He would have to remember to talk to the others about it later. For now, Aram leaned in towards the others in front.
"Hey Arlen, you seem to know a little of their culture. Any tips on not offending our hosts?"
OOC: Okay, from what I can gather from everyone's posts, the basic layout is this. Roughly near the center is the volcano. The Pirates live on the North-Eastern coast while the Natives live to the south, fairly close to the Volcano. The Requiem crashed in a bay somewhere to the South-East of the volcano. Does everyone agree with the basic layout? or did I miss something?
...
The village was deceptively more modern than Arlen would have expected. Either they'd observed well from their visitors, or they indeed had been here for quite some time and didn't settle for good enough. "Any tips on not offending our hosts?" Aram asked as they neared a two story structure. Fairly plain, but well kept. Inside, Arlen expected all sorts of wooden art. It wasn't just a home, but a temple. A modest one for the people. The grander temple was the home of the god, and probably was built into the volcano itself.
What more obvious can you get for a god of fire than the volcano? Something else bothered him though, than just the whole stealing of T'a'u'weke. Nothing Arlen had seen convinced him that one god was better than the next, or even if one existed in most cases. Though he always kept an eye open just in case he was wrong and should repent of his sin of disbelief.
"Well... I would assume that you should do as little as possible. Unless asked to do so. The Awai'aka were friendly people, but you could see an intolerance for bad manners in their society a mile away, just as here. There wasn't anything really bizarre about their customs, so I don't expect as much with these cousins of theirs," Arlen advised.
Arlen turned to Sephara as they were motioned to stand in front of the building and wait, "Unfortunately, I don't know if a woman will be able to speak to the chief." He shrugged in the little control of the situation that he had, "Some tribes do have a matriarchal society... We'll know shortly if Grandfather Pu'aki tolerates females. If not, I will be your mouthpiece, ma'am. Rest assured."
Arlen hesitated before continuing and put his palms together, as if asking Sephara to forgive him and whispered, "Pardon me, miss, but you might be used to stares... I don't expect you to take offense if they find you to be erotically exotic. Men of our culture find you to be irresistible, after all. I would imagine these men will think so as well." Arlen continued to plead in whispered breath, "Try, my dear Sephara, try very hard not to be offended if they ask anything... you know... sexual from you... I'll try to explain the situation somehow. Perhaps that you are... as weird as it might seem, Captain Gabriel's spouse and a warrior."
Although the thought made her blush, which was indeed rare and out of character, Sephara slowly nodded once with her approval. "In this instance, I suppose it might be prudent," she said awkwardly. Apparently the thought of Gabriel being anything but her captain and friend was somewhat of an embarrassing subject. No doubt he's tried a time or two, Arlen thought, to make a slick move on our first mate. If I were younger and stood a chance, I know I would have by now.
OOC:
marc, fix anything you think is out of order for Seph. keep in mind, too. That Arlen's thought is that Gabriel has tried on Seph, not that anything had actually occurred.
Ten years ago, Cyradis would have never even dreamed of seeing an airship. Most Kellans viewed the merge of magic and technology as some kind of blasphemy, though, they had no real deity to invoke. Younger Kellans, raised in a ever-changing world were less superstitious. Cyradis was really no differant then her peers. Even her purple eyes and silvery blonde hair, viewed as exotic and interresting to non-Kellans, was rather unextraordinary in the valley.
Remembering her past wasn't entirely what she wanted from the Requiem Dawn. It was a vision of freedom, and a life without the boundaries of properiety and society. Up until a few hours ago, the Dawn and everyone aboard appeared to live up to exactly the idea Cyradis had of living on an airship. Cyradis sighed as reality came creeping back to her. She couldn't help her more rational mind throwing the adverse elements of their situation in her face. First, they were rediculously outnumbered and outgunned. Three verses at least seventeen remaining outside? Even an ogre would think twice, and that's probably never happened before. Second, they were provisioned for only one day. Naïve, in hindsight, but then again, no one really expected they would be besieged in a ruined house countless centuries old.
Cyradis had been absently gazing out the window at the barely visable stars behind the red veil of the setting sun. She was curled up with her arms around her shins, and her head resting on her knees. Sleep was out of the question, but not out of her mind. The exhausting heat more than actual physical exertion undoubtedly took its toll on the entire group.
Archamae's voice suddenly broke the silence that had befallen their shelter. Cyradis lifted her head and turned her eyes to the pilot. She recoiled slightly from the flask, putting her had up and shaking her head. "I don't drink liquor," she said with some apology in her voice, "Or rather, I can't drink it. Kellan physiology is fragile and I'm afraid I'd end up drunk or unconcious fairly quickly. I guess it's a side-effect from valley life. Kell isn't exactly a welcoming place."
Cyradis released her legs and crossed them in front of her as Archamae withdrew the flask with a your loss look on her face. Cyradis just smirked as she passed the offer on to Kaltor.
"I can help to warm the blood if that's what you need." She surveyed the room briefly. When she went inside she never really had the chance to take a good look around. The floor was dusty, but they weren't the first to peek inside. That became obvious when she saw three dry logs in a firepit built into the wall opposite the window. Concentrating on the logs, Cyradis thrust her right hand at the hearth. A firey little spark streaked across the little room like a firecracker and popped against the log followed by a sizzle. Eventually the logs caught fire. She gave Archamae a triumphant grin, despite the fact that virtually every Kellen over six years of age could perfrom the exact same feat of power she'd just performed.
Cyradis pushed herself against the wall and scooped up her legs again, this time resting her chin on her knees and gazing into the flames. She watched the fire lick at the stones until the room around her faded away. To lookers-on her expression was indecipherable, much like her realationship with the rest of the crew, she realized. She had never really connected with any of them on a level deeper than the front she put up every day. A front that was virtually skin deep. Her trance-like face adjusted slightly as her lower lip curled under her teeth. What would they remember of her if she never left this island, or was shanghaied into the service of this group outside. Her lips moved again, forming words unaccompanied by sound.
Cyradis suddenly shook her head and moved across the room and sat beside Archamae. She plucked the flask from the slightly confused pilot's finger and took a drink before returning the foul-tasting stuff to her.
"Good a time as any, right?" One drink wouldn't kill her, after all.
OOC: Sorry guys, just got caught up reading and I'm fried... it's going to take me awhile to adjust to getting up at 5am for work =p Going to go to bed, and promise a post tomorrow ^_^
I guess I have to do this because I promised =P I was jack-hammering all day, and I'm exhausted. I apologize for glaring errors and the extreme brevity, but I just want to keep things moving and I can't muster the will for much else
KICH, VAGRANT, MIKE, QUIN - are any of you still around?
IC:
Sephara forgot one frustration and replaced it with another just as quick. Their encounter with natives on the island wasn't totally unexpected, but the manner in which they'd crept up on them, as if creeping vines part of the forest itself, was deeply disturbing. Worse yet, Arlen had made a grievous mistake... he'd called her the leader. She had wanted to scream, 'NOOO!!!' even as the words came out. Of course, since nothing could be done about it, she did the grown up thing - started sulking and pretending like she didn't care.
Of course, she had no one to blame but herself. She'd forgotten to explain the rules before they'd left. One of the great things about Gabe as a captain was that he recognized the individual skills of the people, and could find a way to utilize them within the larger idea of a team. The first mate knew her skills one, and being a diplomat or ambassador was not one of them. Cue Aram. Since the young man had joined them roughly a year ago he'd shown his ability as a negotiator. True, most saw him as nothing more than a common merchant haggling prices with his own, but in numerous occasions Gabe sent Aram to speak on their behalf to local dignitaries or to clients. The man had a way with words, and it was why he was with them.
Today, Sephara was meant to be nothing more than some added muscle, Arlen the experienced outdoorsman could lead and see to their safety in the unknown wilderness of the island, and Aram to parlay with any groups they may meet. And now it was all on her.
She was hardly paying attention as they entered their camp, and in truth, probably couldn't have even found her way back to the Dawn if she tried. Each step brought her to certain doom, one more step up the metaphorical volcano, filled with imaginary lava that would metaphysically consume her whole, like sounds kind of red goo monster. What time they had she spent trying to work out a plan in her head. A way to sound as least awkward as possible. Her eyes rolled up into the top of her head as she silently rehearsed several greetings. Who was she kidding. This was going to go badly.
Arlen turned to Sephara as they were motioned to stand in front of the building and wait, "Unfortunately, I don't know if a woman will be able to speak to the chief. If not, I will be your mouthpiece, ma'am. Rest assured."
"Oh, well, no need to worry about that. That's why Aram's here. Actually, I'd prefer he talk. He knows Gabe and I much better, no offense Arlen," she smiled, "Yep, I have full confidence in Aram if that is the case" she replied masking her glee. But she was really thinking, 'YES YES YES YES!!!! LET IT BE THE CASE!!! LET IT BE THE CASE!!!'
Arlen continued talking but she wasn't really paying attention, too caught up in hoping she'd be able to worm her way out of this predicament she'd been thrown in to, that was until she heard the word 'erotic'.
"What?" was all she said at first. Then she noticed the many sets of eyes on her, men's eyes, many with that lustful glean. She waved at the air, as if brushing some invisible fabric, "As you say," and she smiled, still too happy about possibly not being forced to talk. And in truth, she was used to it. The world outside her tribe had been shocking, and although such incidents did not thrill her, she'd learned to deal with it... in her own way.
When Arlen mentioned Gabe as her spouse she raised an eyebrow at Arlen and furrowed her brow, "Now that, that I do not approve of. If they need an explanation, tell them that where we come from women can be warriors just like men, and if they need proof, I'll be happy to embarrass one of their big strong men," she shot Arlen a venomous smile. She'd never be enslaved or possessed. She learned of the world and how people thought of women as possessions to be owned, and she would have none of that. "And if you ever bring up me being married again, I'll steal your soul from your body and cast it into the Demon Realm of Aja'nul for eternal torment. Clear?"
Before the survivalist had time to reply they were interrupted by one of their guides, he spoke what sounded like gibberish to her, but Arlen translated, "He says we can go," indicating himself and Aram, "But you must wait here."
Sephara nodded, a calm happiness returning to her, "So be it. Aram, good luck. Do us proud," she smiled encouragingly and watched as the pair entered the tent of Grandfather Pu'aki
...
Cyradis smiled when Archamae asked about Kell; the question summoning cheerier thoughts to her mind. If there was one thing she knew well, it was her home. Talking about it easily lifted the heavier and more depressing reality off her shoulders. Crossing her legs again, Cyradis picked a fallen stick off the ground near the hearth and stoked the fire as she began.
"Most people describe Kell in one word: mystical. It really does fit, though. Under almost constant fog, the valley has a sort of intrigue about it. Like the gods are hiding some secret in the wilderness outside the city. The city itself is built into the mountainside where the West and East Wilde mountain ranges converge into the Great Wilde Alps, very very far from here. Some Kellans say that the location is the exact center of the world, but I think when the ancients built Kell they simply realized the tactical and resourceful advantages it held. Healthy gold deposits and plenty of building materials make it a self-sufficient place."
Cyradis' thoughts shifted, getting more sentimental, "I remember when I was selected to enter the University. Contrary to popular opinion, not all Kellans are mages and not all of the mages are powerful. The University was established to give the more gifted of us a place to hone our skills. My mother was absolutely beaming when the letter came." The corners of her mouth dropped slightly and her eyebrows beveled, "I was twelve at the time, but I didn't see her again till the day I graduated eight years later."
Cyradis shook her head and sighed, running her fingers over her eyes, and preemptively banishing the tears threatening to leave, "Well, anyway. It was a long time ago. The important thing is I at least got to spend a few more years with her before she died. She was seventy-seven; not a bad lifespan for a Kellan." The hard swallow following her words also supressed anything else she might have said about her mother. Suddenly, those heavy, depressing thoughts made a comeback.
Aram gave a shrug and cast his gaze down, obviously embarrassed with Seph's comments. True, Aram had known the Captain and First Mate longer then any of the crew, even if he hadn't joined until much later. Since the two had hidden in his father's shop, they had formed a close relationship with the blacksmith and his son.
The explorer and the first mate debated the fabrication Arlen would tell of Seph's relationship with Gabe until they were inturrupted by one of the men who had guided the party to the village. In his strange dialect accompanied by hand signals, the man asked the two men waiting outside to come in. Aram followed behind Arlen, giving Seph a departing look, silently offering his assurance that all would be well.
Once inside the temple, Aram caught up to walk beside Arlen. The inside of the temple was fairly plain, a testament to the simple folk who worshiped here. Candles were lit everywhere and a elegent yet simple alter sat near the back wall, closest to the volcano. In front of the alter sat Grandfather Pu'aki.
Grandfather Pu'aki was an older man, with a full head of shoulder length gray streaked hair and piercing brown eyes. His eyes held the wisdom gained from a long life in charge, and the wrinkles creasing them showed the life dealing with the burden of authority. Aram had seen several leaders and diplomats from different kingdoms, and there was a certain innate quality that shone through the exterior. Were he dressed in regal colours and flowing robes, he would look no more a ruler.
As the pair of outsiders approached Pu'aki, they were stopped and asked to remove their weapons. Laying aside his sword, Aram rejoined Arlen and the two were approached by the elder. Stopping infront of Aram and Arlen, Pu'kai gave a small bow, which the two outsiders returned. The elder gave a warm greeting to the pair, but wore no smile on his face as Arlen translated.
"Greetings strange ones." Pu'kai said through Arlen.
"Greetings noble one." Aram replied, "We are sorry to disturb you and your village. We are humble sailors who have had the unfortunate pain of crashing onto your beautiful island."
Pu'kai nodded solemnly, "Yes. We witnessed the heavenly battle, and the decent of your floating boat. In was truly a sight to behold. Tell me, why have you come to us? You must know, you are not the first of your kind here. On the other side of the Temple of T'a'u'weke, men of your kind have built their own village. They are cruel men, with savage intentions. On more then one occasion they have come here intending us harm. But our power is great, bestowed on us by the great T'a'u'weke. They can not harm us."
Aram frowned at Arlen's last translation. What 'power' did this tribe have? He could see by the shared look that Arlen was concerned as well.
"Weka'u," Pu'kai motioned to the man first approached by the group in the jungle, "has told me a little of you and your group. He is our expert in tracking and war. Last night he went to the site of your boat and had followed you until you realized you were being followed. I am impressed, not many would have noticed Weka'u. So now we come to the present. Why are you here? Do you wish us harm or have you come for help?"
Aram held his palms to the side, openned as a pictoral symbol of innocence. "We have no intentions of harming anyone. We seek aid to repair our ship so that we might leave you alone to your paradise here."
Pu'kai hesitated for a minute, as if weighing the outsiders words. "I am not sure of your intent, but I believe you when you say you mean no harm. Please, stay a while. I go to consult the great T'a'u'weke. I will come back with his decision."
Turning to Weka'u, he told the warrior to bring in the woman and let the 'guests' wait in the temple. Aram and Arlen were taken to a comfortable room to the side of the temple where Sephera joined them. Aram broke into a huge grin seeing the first mate.
"Seph! You alright?"
OOC: Ren, feel free to flesh out the conversation if you wanted to add or expand on anything.