Amar O'Neill

@amarright

It had been a few days since Zeerith’s less than stellar introduction to Obsian, and he had finally managed to find his feet. It hadn’t taken much doing; he was used to living in underground cities, even if this one wasn’t quite what he was used to. The finer points still mildly eluded him, but that wasn’t totally new either. He was sure it would all work out eventually. He’d settled in. Starting from scratch had been a bit of a challenge, but he’d always had a knack for making new contacts. He also had a knack for spotting other thieves, a talent that was currently coming in very handy.

The human he’d spotted probably thought he was being very sneaky, and who knew? Maybe to the other humans in the city, he was being sneaky. Still, picking pockets wasn’t easy, and there were those guards about. Zeerith might not be the most upright person in the world, but he wasn’t about to stand back and let someone get arrested for no reason. As far as he knew, the guards here would be exactly as ruthless as the noble’s bodyguards in Menzoberranzan.

The would-be thief didn’t seem to be noticing Zee’s attempts at the cant sign for danger. A distraction, then. He straightened up from the wall he had been leaning against, double checking his hood was up and mostly covering his face, and cast dancing lights. A single point of bright, glowing light sprung into being some distance away, drawing most people’s attention for at least a moment, and giving Zeerith enough time to slip across to the human and lightly tap his arm.

Amar would never admit it to anyone, but he had missed one part of his old life. Stealing. He had always loved the challenge, the thrill of it. Didn’t matter that Amar had never been the most talented. Had never had the softest footsteps or the quickest hands. He had compensated for this by excelling in running. Didn’t matter if he fucked up if they could never catch him. Besides, for Amar stealing had always been the best option. Always easier to live with taking someone’s wallet than taking their life. When Amar had been younger he had used this philosophy to comfort himself, to justify his actions. Later on, it had no longer been quite enough.

It wasn’t really survival that drove him to it this time, but boredom. Amar had been doing odd jobs here and there, but there never seemed to be enough work to keep him satisfied. Not doing anything all day made him feel jittery and anxious.

Amar chose the market district. Sure, there were a lot more constables around than say, in the Shambles, but the targets were also easier and much more careless. Besides, he didn’t really feel comfortable in the Shambles anyway. It was too dark and chaotic. Easy to disappear, sure, but also very easy to get lost.  

The market was bustling with people. Amar moved cautiously, picking only the easiest targets. He noticed with some irritation that the time he’d spent in a more respectable profession had made him horribly rusty. Still, he managed to snatch a few wallets with very little trouble. Amar was just contemplating a nearby vendor selling antiques, or more specifically an expensive looking crystal statue sitting on the man’s table. It looked light enough to carry, and Amar was sure he could haggle a good price for it in the black market. He was also pretty sure the old man was half blind as well deaf, but unfortunately the nearby constable was definitely neither of those things.

Before Amar could form a plan, a bright, shimmering light appeared at the other side of the marketplace with a flash. This instantly caused quite the commotion, drawing the eyes of just about everyone around him, including the constables. The particularly annoying one moved to investigate, abandoning the antique seller. Amar’s heart jumped at the opportunity. This was the distraction he’d been hoping for.

Before Amar could move, however, someone tapped him on the arm, speaking softly. He spun around in an instant, facing a suspiciously hooded man. Amar couldn’t quite see his face properly, and the man’s words made very little sense to him at that moment. Amar just stared at him for a second in confusion, frowning slightly. “What?” he asked distractedly, throwing the statue another longing look. It was just there, sitting at the edge of the table. Practically asking to be stolen. It was the perfect crime. Too good to waste.

Amar made a split-second decision. He abandoned the stranger, muttering an apology under his breath as he swept past the man and made his way to the vendor’s table.

That couldn’t possibly be a coincidence, could it? The human inside had said all ‘new citizens’ had been taken in the same way, but for it to be almost identical? At least in Dáithí’s experience, that tended to mean it was deliberate.

“I can sympathize,” Dáithí responded. Other than their magic, they were fairly ordinary; and even their magic didn’t make them too special, in the grand scheme of things. There were plenty of sorcerers. “I can’t say I’m at all enthused, either,” they added. “Hopefully there’s at least a reason.” The situation might at least be moderately easier to swallow with a reason behind it.

They waved away the apology with a genuine smile. “No, that’s alright, I understand.” At least Amar had been able to hear them say it.

Dáithí was careful to hide the sense of relief that came with Amar agreeing to accompany them. They were certain they’d be able to handle themselves, but it never hurt to have at least an acquaintance. If nothing else, it minimized the chances of them getting themselves horribly lost.

“I’m glad to hear it,” they said. “Hopefully we’ll both find some answers.” They followed Amar’s gesture, more than a little glad the street he had chosen was well lit. They could see well enough in the dark without light, but it made the place seem infinitely more… normal.

They hesitated for a moment, torn between their constant need to prove themselves and simply trusting someone who knew the city better, before giving a small smile. “I’ll trust your judgement. After you.”

“If there is, it better be a damn great one,” Amar said a little gloomily.

Amar nodded in agreement, then added with a quiet chuckle: “I’m not sure that’s wise.” He began walking anyway, leading his new ally away from the prison and through the streets.

It looked like he’d managed to pick the right way this time. Now that Amar had found a familiar street, navigation was easy. After a few minutes of walking they reached the market place and made their way through the square, coming to a stop in front of the big double doors leading into the building.

Amar put his hand on the left door and pushed. It was old and heavy, but still opened without much struggle. The hinges made a loud and very uninviting creaking sound. “That’s promising,” he muttered under his breath.

Inside, the library was dimly lit and very quiet. The dusty air smelled of old books and something sweeter, like incense. No other visitors could be seen from the door.

“Valovaara? I haven’t heard of that, either, and my travels have brought me everywhere on my world.” The idea of this pleasant young man being from another planet entirely was something quite foreign to Iroh. The study of celestial bodies was not unheard of, especially in the Fire Nation, where comets and the phases of the moon could be quite important, but an entirely different planet with entirely unfamiliar life? It was a bit much to swallow…

“It would explain why I’ve never even seen anyone like you before, certainly.” He took another sip of his tea - which he still had plenty of; he liked to take time to appreciate the flavor - as he mused. 

He ended up nodding along with Amar’s declaration. “It would be nice to go back home, even if I don’t have many years left in me anyway. I would be careful about what you say and where, though. I’ve seen some shady characters in this city, including the esteemed constables.” It seemed to him like the environment was hostile to snooping.

“There are people south of my homeland that have similar features,” Amar said, angling his head thoughtfully. “But I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.”

Amar nodded. “You might me right about that. I suppose I’ll just have to tread carefully.” Which wasn’t exactly his forte. In the past Amar’s preferred method of solving problems was usually: avoid conflict, keep your head low and run if you can. If all else failed, he’d usually fight his way out. Amar had an uncomfortable feeling that he’d need a bit more than violence to get out of this particular mess. He regarded at the old man curiously. “You aren’t…planning to do anything then?” Though Amar supposed it made sense. He suspected had he been about 50 years older, he too would’ve been less than excited about a good old fight. Besides, Iroh seemed more like the wise, thinking kind than a hotheaded warrior.

To be perfectly honest, Ashara wasn’t all that distressed at her new predicament. She hadn’t had anywhere she needed to be, anything she needed to do or anyone to miss her really. She’d had only two aims on her journey; be somewhere that wasn’t home, and try to be of help to whoever she could. As far she was concerned, Ashara could accomplish both those things quiet easily right where she was.

Of course, a place that stole people from different planes and trapped them with no way out did sound just a tad ominous, but Ashara was reserving judgement. She knew what it was like to have well, extenuating circumstances surrounding your actions. 

First things first though, she needed to figure out where her lodgings where. Whilst Ashara certainly wasn’t opposed to roughing it in the outdoors, she didn’t see the point of going without a bed when one was freely offered. Hitching a smile onto her face, she jogged over to the nearest person with a hand raised in greeting.

Amar stopped and looked at the stranger, trying to piece together if she might be a newcomer. The location was right, at least. And he thought the piece of paper she held in her hand looked very familiar. It all fit. There was one major issue, though. Why is she looking so pleased?, Amar thought confusedly. Amar had never understood positive people very well. It just wasn’t in his nature. Normally, he might’ve felt very irritated.

Yet, there was just something about this person. To Amar, this particular something brought in mind charming things like hearty home-cooked meals, honesty and being nice to random strangers. Besides, he hadn’t been raised in a barn. Amar was able to subdue his slight irritation and instead gave the stranger a welcoming smile. “I’m not exactly sure how much help I can offer,” Amar said. “I think it’s somewhere in the Shambles.” He gestured left, in the direction of the district. “Probably on this side of the river, too. Shouldn’t be too long of walk. If you manage to find your way through the streets, that is. The area’s kind of confusing.”

“It is hard, though I have met a few people in my days who somehow manage.” Zuko came to mind. To make an inedible tea required just as much talent as making a masterwork tea, in Iroh’s opinion. At least, it required similar care to be taken.

Hearing that Amar was in the same situation, Iroh frowned slightly, though it didn’t last long. It seemed like this city had an established way of taking people into the city. If the welcoming party was to be believed, however, it was a recent addition. “It’s always a pleasure to make a new acquaintance! A glimmer of light can be seen in even the darkest nights.”

Iroh took another deep drink of his tea. The more he drank it, the more he could appreciate the subtleties present there. It was certainly not entirely like the tea from his world. There were flavors there he wasn’t familiar with and even the water itself seemed to have a slightly different taste, but the differences were by no means bad. In fact, the thought of exploring a whole new world of teas was even exciting!

His mind was brought back to Amar by the man’s question, having been allowed to wander during the momentary lapse in their conversation. “I come from the planet Earth. The Fire Nation, specifically. I’ve been here only a few hours, and I’ve seen no one who looks like they might have also come from Earth…”

”The fire nation?” Amar had never heard of a place like that before. The name made him imagine high temperatures, bright, sunny days and plenty of hot, dry sand.

Amar only knew home, Varanto with it’s wide stretches of empty grasslands and the cities and villages that dotted the coast. There were other continents, of course, Merta on the other side of the ocean and Edrya behind the western mountains, so close you could see it on a clear day. Amar had dreamed of visiting these places as a child, much like his mother had in her youth. “I haven’t heard of a place like that,” he said, shrugging. “Where I’m from, we call our world Valovaara. I don’t suppose you could be from…another planet entirely?”

Iroh was only too happy to have company. He didn’t know if anyone else he knew had been captured by this city; there was nothing to indicate that they had. It didn’t seem like many people familiar to him in any way were down here. The clothing styles, the building styles, and even the facial builds were all totally foreign to him.

“Ah, it’s just not quite tea how it’s made where I’m from…” He took a slight sip. It was…better than it looked. A slow smile spreading across his face, he took another, deeper drink. “Ahh!” He sighed in satisfaction. “It’s good to know that even down here, no matter how it looks, tea is tea! We must be thankful for the small things.” Indeed, the difference in his countenance upon tasting the tea was an instant and marked improvement.

Iroh had to shrug his shoulders in response to the other man’s question. “I’m afraid I don’t know. It’s my first time here. I’m a newcomer to this city, only taken today. But where are my manners? My name is Iroh!” 

Amar nodded. “At least there’s something I don’t hate about this damn city. Though I suppose it’s pretty hard to ruin tea. Or maybe I just have low standards.” It seemed where there were people, there was also tea and coffee, and alcohol. Some things, at least, you could always count on.

“Oh,” Amar said, surprised. “I’m actually… in the same situation.” He looked down and frowned at his cider. “It’s been just few hours since I woke up in a jail cell. No idea how I ended up here. My name’s Amar, by the way. ’Pleased to meet you’ and all, even if the situation’s not exactly looking bright.”

He let his gaze swipe the room. It was a colourful crowd, filled with all kinds of people, many of them very different from what Amar was used to. A man clad from head to toes in shockingly bright canary yellow, a woman with curious blue eyes like two perfectly round gemstones, sitting in the corner and gesturing enthusiastically. Near the bar someone was laughing brightly, the tone hollow and melodic. Even Iroh, though appearing ordinary, probably had something extraordinary about him. Maybe he’s a wizard, Amar thought wryly. It would go well with the beard.

Interesting. Of course, it was yet another mystery they wouldn’t be able to let lie, but at least this one was easy enough to solve. Go to the library, try and find the thing. Dáithí stifled their laugh at the old woman comment, trying to look as serious as they possibly could. “Yes, I have met some old women like that.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, but hopefully it still came across as one.

Frowning slightly, they drummed their fingers against the quarterstaff again for a moment. They were reasonably sure the human was right– it could still be a trap, of course, but they had a hard time believing that. Traps tended to be less obvious. Anyway, trap or monstrosity or who knew what else– it didn’t matter. They needed information.

They looked back up as the human continued, surprise written across their face. “So you were… stolen, or whatever you like to call it, as well?” They gave a small sigh, their frown more pronounced. “Exactly the same? You know, I’m really starting to hate this place.”

Damn, they’d been rude, hadn’t they? They shook the human– Amar’s hand with a slightly sheepish smile. “Dáithí Lathlaeril. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but in the circumstances…”

Which was a point. “I’m sorry if this is… presumptuous, or anything, but I’m hoping the library might have some information on, well. Everything. Would you like to come with me?”

It wasn’t cowardice, or anything similar. It was a genuine attempt to share whatever they might be able to uncover, and they were sticking with that story.

Amar chuckled at the joke.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he said. “Just woke up a few days ago, with no memories of how I ended up here. Honestly, though, I don’t understand why they thought I’d be a good target. I’m not really that interesting.” Amar frowned. “I have to say, I don’t exactly appreciate it when some asshole decides to mess with my life.”

Harlow would find this hilarious, Amar thought unexpectedly. He could imagine him now, sitting on the kitchen countertop - probably for the sole purpose of annoying Amar - and swinging his legs, smirking. “You need to calm down, Amar,” he’d say, “For once, relax. Have a drink. Accept the universe for the giant shitstorm it is.” Yeah, right. Get out of my kitchen, and my head while you’re at it.

“I agree. The situation isn’t exactly promising.” Amar said. “Well, nevertheless, always nice to meet new people...” he hesitated a little,”...Dáithí.” He directed an apologetic expression at them. “Sorry, it’s an unfamiliar name. Didn’t want to completely butcher it.”

Amar was pleased about the offer. In his experience, any ally – a stranger or not – was almost always better than no allies at all. It wasn’t like Amar couldn’t handle himself in a normal situation. That was exactly it, though. There was nothing normal about any of this at all. There were things at work here that Amar couldn’t hope to understand. This would require careful planning, which wasn’t exactly his forte.

Iroh’s time in this city had been…well, there were many words he could think of to describe his experience. Few of them were positive, but they weren’t overwhelmingly negative either. The fact that he had been stolen at all was alarming and confusing, but at least the city wasn’t wholly hostile. He had been wandering for quite some time, and hadn’t once been accosted.

There was only so much wandering a man his age could sustain, though, especially with this damp climate. He had promised himself several hours ago that he would enter the first tea shop he saw. To his dismay, he found no tea shops whatsoever; only taverns. Well, he used to be a soldier. He could handle taverns easily! Though he did have to wonder if they served tea…

That was how he found himself in the corner of this particular tavern, looking skeptically at a recently delivered cup of something the person behind the counter had sworn was tea. Iroh wasn’t too sure about that, though…

He was distracted from his skeptical examination quite suddenly and he started violently. It was a young man who had taken him by surprise; as with all people he had encountered here, it seemed like he was not an inhabitant of any of the nations Iroh was familiar with. Iroh had a hand on his chest to assuage his rapidly beating heart, and he let out a hearty chuckle. 

“Not at all! It’s always more pleasant to have tea with company. That is…ah, well, I think it’s tea.” He frowned at the cup again, his brow furrowing in equal parts distress and curiosity.

“Ah, thank you.” Amar said with a smile, pulling a chair and sitting down. He looked at the old man’s tea cup curiously. The liquid inside was black and looked and smelled perfectly ordinary to him. “Is there something wrong with the taste?” he asked politely and took a sip of his own drink. It was good cider, sweet and slightly fizzy, but he almost regretted not ordering tea himself. A big cup of the stuff always managed to help him calm down. If there was something Amar could’ve used at the moment, it was relaxation.

Amar was glad he’d chosen this specific tavern. This stranger seemed friendly and looked old enough to have most likely spent quite a while in Obsian. Maybe he’d have some useful information or at least a few stories to offer. Besides, Amar could really use some company. The man’s features reminded Amar of the southern traders that always frequented Vertomeri during the summer months. The way he dressed and spoke were completely different though. No doubt he too came from a whole different world.

There was a sense of relief that Dáithí was careful to keep hidden. They might have been away from the shelter of their family for some time now, but they still hadn’t quite mastered being able to talk to strangers. Especially human strangers. Until the… accident, just about the only human they’d ever directly spoken to had been their father. Which.. was not something to be particularly proud of, they supposed.

They weren’t at all surprised to be told there was a library. The thought that the city might not have one hadn’t occurred, at all.

“Thank you.” They followed the human’s gesture to the light of the clock face, before turning back to him, their smile slipping just slightly as he mentioned having never been. They fixed their expression as soon as they noticed. Judging people immediately was bad, remember? Perhaps he just… hadn’t found the time.

“Sorry– ‘horrific crawly thing?’” Could this city not give it a rest with strange things till they got just one answer? “What kind of ‘horrific crawly thing,’ do you know?” Dáithí was fairly certain they’d be able to handle whatever it was, but they didn’t like to wander blindly into danger if they could at all help it. But who knew, maybe it was a good monstrosity. “There’s not usually smoke without fire, unfortunately.”

They had half turned back to look at the clock tower, frowning vaguely, and were just slightly caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t much of a leap to make the assumption, they supposed– they were carrying all their belongings, some still bound up in the package they’d been handed.

“Is it that obvious?” They smiled again, just a little sheepish. There wasn’t a point in lying. It pained them to admit it, but they’d probably be better off owning up to being out of their depth, for once in their life. “Yes, apparently I am. I’m not sure entirely how new, but I woke up not too long ago. In prison,” they added, distastefully.

“I’m sorry if it’s rude to ask, but I take it you aren’t… from here either?” If he was, that just made the whole prison thing all the stranger. Those guards had been odd enough, but the small human?

The stranger seemed only slightly concerned, which was commendable. “I’m honestly not certain,” Amar said, trying to sound reassuring, “You hear all kinds of stories, but it might as well just be a really, really old woman.” Amar shrugged slightly, something he didn’t often do. “I suppose it should be safe enough to visit, since they keep the door open.”

Amar didn’t really care much about libraries. They were so quiet and dusty. Amar’s way of solving problems was usually much more physical. It was just how he’d been raised. Uncle Seamus had always said that higher education was the privilege of the rare few that had the time for it. Amar never quite did.

They had pointy ears, he noticed. The strange shape reminded him a little of an elk or a deer. All things considered, it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing Amar had seen during his time in Obsian – the birds could speak, after all –, and so he politely didn’t mention it.

Amar had to wonder though. He had seen many kinds of people while wandering the streets. He was certain that a good part of them weren’t even human. Sometimes, Amar’s brain had a hard time convincing him it was all real. Was it possible that there were whole different worlds out there? Whole different realities? Obsian was a bigger mystery than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Oh no, it’s not rude at all. I’m definitely not from around,” Amar said. “Actually, I haven’t been here very long myself. Just a few days. Oddly enough, this is exactly what happened to me.” He gestured at the letter.

Dáithí had a very extensive vocabulary, even if they said so themself. Elves were naturally verbose, and even if, as people were so fond of pointing out, Dáithí was only a half-elf, they had been raised by elves. They had read, if not every book in the Lathlaeril family’s library, then most of them. They spoke three languages, including Draconic. Draconic!

Even so, they had no words for how horrific this entire situation was. They had a good dozen questions, at least half of them rhetoric and/or accusatory, but the little human hadn’t given them a single chance to ask anything before ushering them out into the city and slamming the door. And they were supposed to just… go with it? Be alright with being told ‘hard luck, you live here now’?

At least they’d gotten their things back. They could probably quite easily live without the daggers or their quarterstaff, but there were some really quite expensive things in their component bag, and they would have raised this entire hellhole of a city to the ground if any of the strange jailers had attempted to steal their ring.

They scowled down at the letter they’d been given, tapping a finger against the quarterstaff thoughtfully. For once, they had absolutely no desire to investigate their apparent lodgings, but the rest of the city was another matter entirely. A mysterious, apparently sentient city? Not part of the Underdark, or at least very, very far down. Lit, so it wasn’t likely this was a drow or duregar city, especially considering the guards had looked human. They’d never been comfortable with letting a mystery lie, and they certainly weren’t going to start now.

It was… probably too risky to try casting any spells, especially in an apparently populated area, so they’d fall back on their favourite alternative. The map they’d been given didn’t point anything out, so…

Amar was going to look for work. He’d been just kind of hanging around for a few days now, and it was starting to seriously bother him. Amar really wasn’t well suited for boredom. Besides, it looked like there was no fast or easy solution for this mess he’d been dragged into, so he might as well get comfortable. He figured there had to be some kind of work available at the market district. Amar could’ve tried the harbour, but he was really better suited for the inner city. Disappointingly, the ocean had failed to comfort him, to ease the homesickness. It was too dark, too still. Nothing like Vertomeri. Amar missed the ocean wind the most, and the sunshine. This place felt so dead and stale.

Amar left Herringbone and headed towards the market. It should’ve been simple enough, what with the clock tower clearly visible from nearly everywhere, but he hadn’t still quite gotten the hang of the streets. Making everything even more difficult was the fact that in the semi-dark everything looked very similar and Amar had never exactly been the master of navigation in the first place. He had been doing all right for the first few minutes before turning onto a sketchy, yet very familiar – wrong – looking side street. Before he knew it, he saw the towering shape of the prison in front of him. Amar cursed silently and stopped walking. He was in the middle of pondering which way to go when he heard the voice of a stranger from behind him ask: “Excuse me, I don’t suppose you know where a library might be?”

Amar turned around, looking at the smiling stranger. They held a letter in their hands, and looked more friendly than most people Amar had met these last few days. He smiled back politely.