ZEPHYR â 30 (201) years old | The Choice | Also known as "The Fox" (Thieves' Guild), "The Western Wind", & "The Master" (Secret) | Traveling Merchant & Leader of The Link | Pansexual | FC Luke Pasqualino. [ Pinterest ] [ Connections ] [ The Link ] [ Biography ]
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Sakkara felt the weakness of her strength and her magic much the way one might feel the soreness of overused limbs and the painful strain of muscles. This body was youthful, but even it had its limits. To fight against a deity had been taxing, and the Keeper had expected to grant herself many days in solitude and rest once her time in Iskaldrik finished. Perhaps in a few more days. Proud and hopeful for the future, Sakkara had lingered in this cold country to watch as its new Keeper stepped up to the mantle that she had been granted. Freydis, strong and knowledgable as she was, did not truly need Sakkara there. But a Keeper could not help but bask in these joyous moments. Sakkara prayed to the stones, and listened to the rebirth of the forests when she wasn't admiring the Iskarans.
She had just bent down to drink from a creek when a familiar presense was felt. "I notice a great many things, Zephyr," Sakkara murmured, wiping the cold water from her chin and standing. "Your absence is not the least of which. The Stones have called to every DĂşnedain, no matter how astray." I think of you every day; I hear you in the wind and see you in the dancing leaves. But she did not say so, choosing instead to turn and face her former student with an impassive facade, not thoroughly convincing. Her heart ached. "Iskaldrik is healed. You must be content." I fought for it only in your honor, and in my daughter's.
"They called and yet I did not answer...", he spoke only in his own mind, a thought corrupted by the Dark One's influence, one that he knew he would regret saying out loud for it wasn't something he'd believed was right, he was the one who wanted to help the Iskarans the most amongst those of druidic nature; he'd lost his place, his right and his closest friend over this, and yet he could not answer the call to help that Kingdom and, most importantly, its people... Through pain he'd fought day and night, at times, for his plan to reclaim leadership of his organization, in others, inside his mind, led to places he'd never been by an unseen force, unable to turn away to pick up the pieces he'd left behind, all of that as assertion of dominance, to show the Genasi he would not be the one in control soon enough. "No matter how astray...", the words rang as bells to his ears, but he didn't see his actions as incorrect, he'd done nothing but fight for what was right, for good, and there she was, judging him again. She loathes you... Yes, that must be what it was, after all this time, it was all the same, he was still the one in the wrong. You are nothing but a failure to her... It made sense, that's why she couldn't see things the way he did, because in her mind she would always think lowly of him, because the DĂşnedain could never be wrong. "The Stones themselves had to call for the DĂşnedain for you all to realize that it's better to do something than do nothing and it seems not a thing has changed..." He scoffed, a giggle following as if it was comedic. "-I'm still the evil Genasi that chose people over their duties... What a sin! I'm still the one astray..." She still looked at him as a rebel, a pitiful creature.
Show her your truth... Maybe he should, afterall, he deserved the space to make himself heard after all that had been done. Zephyr was no longer one that could hold it all in and pretend like everything was fine. "And you must be dissatisfied then. Every single one of you must've hated each second of this madness, afterall, how is it different from what I did? Aren't we the same now?" He laughed, although there was no amusement, it was rage that was brewing inside of him. "Wasn't it those same DĂşnedain that told me my concern was unrequited? That I had to find peace in balance as an observer, that the problems would solve themselves with time or some bullshit like that..." His smile cracked, leaving behind the intensity of his feelings unattended by the mask he usually wore. "-Or perhaps it takes evil to manifest in a different way for an action to be warranted...?" He stopped himself, his eyes showing more emotion than he would have wanted. "If you-..." Say it, she deserves it... He couldn't bring himself to it, his words had failed him, he could never blame only her for abandoning him. "If any of you had listened to me back then... Iskaldrik wouldn't have fallen to begin with." It was due to the evil he fought against, the one he alerted the DĂşnedain about and was shunned away for, the shaming, the prejudice and that damned inquisition against the supernatural that Iskaldrik had fallen prey to the enemy so easily. "Go on... Tell me I'm wrong, Sakkara. I dare you..." There was no more line diving where Zephyr ended and the Dark One's influence began. Good boy...
Despite keeping a relatively low profile because of her current studies on the Tower, ValdĂs still fulfilled the roles that came with her title. That meant keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the underground, ensuring her fleet was acting as ordered, and once in a while⌠Perhaps even hunting down a funny little information dealer that had returned after a rather convenient disappearance into the unknown. She had gotten the information she had wanted, delivered nicely to her room at the inn â which of course, had meant she would never return to the inn with its poor securityâ. But beyond that, she had sought him once, before entering the Tower, in hopes of figuring out which Agent of Minerva held her leash. But alas, he had simply vanished into the air. There was plenty of information she would like to get from Zephyr, but frankly, she trusted him as far as she could throw him so asking him for information on her possible family was entirely out of the fucking question.Â
Getting information about the weird shit stirring under Caribella, however? That was the sort of information plenty of people were concerned about, so her seeking answers wouldnât come and bite her in the ass.Â
âThat is certainly a question to be asking a customer,â she drawls in amusement as she leans backward and crosses her leg. âWould saying yes give me a discount or just grant you the satisfaction of the answer?
Their relationship had always been one of give and take, and while she does enjoy his company at times, she knows that rarely does he do anything without getting something in exchange⌠At least when it comes to his exchanges with her.
âCaribella has been acting strange,â she says slowly, deliberately. âAnd I thought the knowledge as to why would be under your purview.â
"Customer?! Aren't we friends already?" He inquired with a joyful tone, although the question was rhetorical at best and a joke at worst. They weren't, but that didn't mean he could not say so playfully even though they both knew of that truth, he was just someone who knew and she was someone who wanted to know. It was a good partnership, a relationship that could last for longer than many, since people like her, eager and powerful, always wanted to know something and people like him, who happened to come across intel easily, could always be trusted with knowing or gathering those informations. "Unfortunately, a discount is out of question, money rarely lasts in my hands, you see? I'm quite the spender... But I would be very amused, nonetheless!" It wasn't a lie, but most of what he spent his money on was for his organization, buying items and artifacts that were of another client's interest or greasing the right person's palm for hearsay, rumors and "look the other way's".
"Caribella was always strange..." Of course the Captain would want to know of that island in the middle of that bay of The Veiled Sea formed within Taravell. His eyes and ears were lacking there, but not nonexistent; he'd gathered some information on the matter as more of a passtime than something he intended on selling, it was good to know it wasn't for nothing. "-But... I might've listened in on 'shark hot gossip' and 'turtle fun rumors'..." Obviously a joke, since as Zephyr knew all too well sharks didn't tend to gossip nor did turtles care about more than the next decent current they could catch to reach a good crayfish hunting ground, but it was enough to make it known that he did have something on the matter at hand.
Zephyr span his knife around his finger once, catching it on his palm and sheathing it inside his jacket as he leaned forward to rest his arms on the table, with a smirk on his lips. "However... That information is much harder to get than the last one... I'm out of favors to ask as of now, so...-" He pointed out, afterall, he was now in control of The Link, there was virtually nothing he couldn't achieve or find through his connections. "What do you intend on offering me as payment for my services, ValdĂs Wavebreaker?" He questioned as he mused and wondered, thinking maybe she would have something interesting to offer or that they could find a proper price through negotiation.
The year and a half that had passed since he chose to leave behind the life of comfort he'd tried to build and failed to fit in changed something within the Genasi, something that tied him to the person he once was. Iskaldrik had been recovering from the effects of the blight, but his soul was still darkening with time, each century posing a challenge that, this time, he'd only barely conquered, one of mind, seeking control over the former DĂşnedain, offering more and more power, tempting him into submission... He was still in control, but part of him was lost in his battle as he had to give up a piece of himself to get the power and the confidence he needed to reclaim his metaphoric throne as head of the organization, bringing all factions that'd formed after the severance of connection, during his attempts at helping the refugees of Iskaldrik, under his command once more.
A part of him was gone, but his heart remained good for now, or so he forced himself to believe, although sometimes he would catch himself showing a side of him he didn't even recognize, one that could very well be another person completely. There was no telling what was the dark influence's doing and what was his own, as if they slowly merged into one single individual each day that passed. It scared him to thing of this, wondering how long it would be before he was no longer himself, no longer in control; when would the man who only wished for good turn against the world he dreamed of healing?
Proof of his was how he looked at @sakkarathekeeper, the person he'd cared so much about all those years, his mentor, his dearest friend, and yet something whispered thoughts into his mind, of the day she abandoned him, of how she never looked for him, of how she despised him for only trying his best, of how she loathed his existence and of how she would betray him again if he let her close... Deep down, he knew it was not true, but his mind was troubled with those thoughts nonetheless. Zephyr forced himself through the dark thoughts, offering a smile to his oldest acquaintance. "Hello, Sakkara." He greeted her with a nod. "A year has passed since we last saw each other. I wonder if you noticed my absence." It would've been said as a joke another time, but now it lacked the tone.
Zephyr's return to Lysara wasn't of public knowledge, not even the most influential members of the Thieves' Guild would have guessed that their eyes and ears would catch notice of the Fox only when he opened the doors to the Cisterns, a surprise that got opinions divided amongst member of the guild, with some welcoming the idea of a respectable mind in their midst and others frowning at the thought of accepting the man back after he disappeared without notice, especially since he'd shown up out of nowhere in the heart of the Queendom with no previous records of him anywhere else... And yet there he was, sitting at his usual table, playing with a knife he'd recently acquired from an old friend of his, one that had a ring on its hilt where he could spin it around his finger.
Another surprise was the company that soon walked through those same doors and sat down in front of him, not only to the watching eyes of the men around them, but to the Genasi himself. "Oh, my dearest Wavebreaker!" He greeted @hiddenvaldis with a smile. "It's been so long... Did you miss me?" Some of the silliness of the past still made its way into the conversation, more as a cover to his recent change than as a trait of his personality. The information she'd bought back then had hopefully reached her through a letter left on a table at her place of residence within the week, as the price settled had definitely been paid, so he wondered what other business brought her to him this time. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
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â§ââ " At the shrine of your lies, I'll tell you my sins... " âââ§
( tw: crime; manipulation & mention of death )
Life is, in fact, boring... Especially when you've lived for over a century almost reaching your second. Interactions start to feel shallow and meaningless, you've experienced all the interesting parts of life, you've been to the places with the best view, to the best restaurants, seen everything at least once. That's how Zephyr felt while he watched the movement of the crowd shift on the outside of his newly opened store, faces mixing as their paths intertwinded with one another through the passage of time, the sun slowly making its way from one side of the vast blue sky to the other, lights being lit on the streets as night fell upon the Queendom's capital... Eventually, people entered the store and the Genasi made sure to open his biggest smile as he explained his trinkets and artifacts' effects; it was always the same, nothing new, nothing exciting, conversations that led to nothing. Day after day after day, he spent his time at that shop, no surprises, no fun, no nothing, even the information gathered by his comrades began to bore him out of his mind, something that, to someone as curious and mischievous as Zephyr, was once unthinkable. Nothing changed... So he had to change.
Paying up his debt was easy when he didn't have to think of maintaining the shop, he sold everything he had on a big sale, then, with an almost empty wallet, and a backpack on his back, he closed The Eastern Wind and left. It was a big loss and anyone who lost this much would say their life was over, but he didn't regret it, that was how he'd always lived, a wandering merchant, a traveler of sorts, that was freeing, bound to nothing and to no one... However, there was another reason for his desire to put his life on hold at a time such as this. Intel was scarce... The Link, his web of whispers, his most prized accomplishment, had been for a long while broken, shattered, divided into various small factions that fought for power in the absence of its leader; power struggle had damaged their reputation and corruption and tyrany had made their way to the top. He could not blame the higher-ups for aiming for the throne, after all, when everything happened in Iskaldrik, his connection to most of the organization had been severed, but one thing he would never tolerate was foul play and crime within his beloved creation. As the master of The Link, it was time he made his grand come back.
Zephyr knew that coming back empty handed would only cause more trouble and chaos, turning a conflict between small factions into a full on war as those small factions joined forces to either support his claim or overthrow his regimen completely. In a place where the law dared not shine light, secrets were treated as ammunition and faces were hidden behind masks, a leader was only as good as the cards on their sleeves; he could've been the mastermind behind the organization once, but now he would be just one of many claiming to be the figure that had long disappeared, leaving an empty throne with no crown. A plan was needed, one elaborate enough to fool the seven heads that emerged, like Hydra heads, from the crowds claiming rights of leadership, to make them fall, to bleed the corruption out of the system for good. It would be difficult, it would take time... Luckily for Zephyr, he had all the time in the world.
Throughout a year, the Genasi worked to develop a plan as he observed from a safe distance the conflicts of power between the groups, learning their strengths, their weaknesses and, most importantly, their fatal flaws. The first faction he watched was commanded by a man who went by the nickname The Crow, a wise and "ruthless" human who had the respect of his subordinates and was loved by those under him as much as he was feared by those outside his circle. The group worked in a clear and organized chain of command of those eager to collect information of academic sorts as well as pry on the nobility's business. Zephyr admired his knowledge at such a young age, only about sixty or seventy years old, never close enough to be noticed by the figure, but always sufficiently close to watch him carefully... His posture and manners mimicked nobility, however, that was a trick - perhaps a wish of his own to belong to high society -, it was a good act, although not enough to fool the former DĂşnedain; he was close enough to nobles to catch on to their ways, but didn't receive proper tutoring... A butler of a noble house was the obvious answer. Through the few eyes under his command as The Fox of the Thieves' Guild, he soon found the identity of The Crow, a man named Oswald Edderton, former butler of House Varus of Westreach.
Zephyr approached the old human as a simple adventurer under de Warrior's Guild, forging a fake identity as Adam Porter with his connections within the band of thieves and smugglers he knew so well from the ranks of his Guild. It was easy to gain the man's trust since the right information was fed to his underlings portraying that Adam as an innocent man of a humble household who left home to earn some coin to feed his family. A righteous background, one similar to that of the old butler, one that was touching; it was a cruel lie, but one that had to be told. The weaknesses of the man were revealed soon after as he would never expect the innocent boy he took under his wings to plot against him and, to be honest, the Genasi himself didn't see the need to actually use the information he'd gathered since the old human didn't seem like a bad person overall. Through his hours of information gathering, he saw that mask of ruthlessness fall flat when it came to his own people. He'd seen the man care for those under him, show mercy to those who made mistakes and punish lightly those deserving or more severe measures; no corruption, only a false firm hand and a good heart... That was his weakness, his willingness to forgive, to believe and to overthink. His fatal flaw was akin to the DĂşnedain's: his unwavering trust in those around him, making him blind to treason. He couldn't see the malice of his subordinates even when faced with a knife in his old heart... If he wanted to end that faction, he didn't have to move a finger, only a suggestion to the right ear would be enough for it to crumble.
The second faction he watched was commanded by a younger man, energetic to say the least, by the nickname The Immortal, a title he'd thought silly at first, but that proved to be pretty accurate as he got to know that person. First impressions pointed to them being a group of hooligans, together through their own connections to the streets and, possibly, to the Thieves' Guild, although, in a surface-level investigation he could not tell for sure; probably the lowest ranked members of The Link or individuals that had not been given an invitation per se, but acted as informants to other members and that now had joined the ranks under that man. Zephyr watched the gang with a cold gaze, judging it from the start, wishing to dissolve it as soon as possible, following their businesses and the sources from which they seemed to receive their information. It was easy to get close, they didn't seem to care for one more or one less member in their circles as long as the number matched their needs, however, the deeper one tried to go in the circles, the harder it got to the point that to get into the inner circle of The Immortal's men, he had to get information on the identity of high-ranks on other factions' inner groups, risking his neck but also hitting two birds with the same stone. His target was a man related to his third target, the one that cared for their finances, a man by the name Lloyd Viers, a man as dirty as the money he cared for; it wasn't easy to find information on that nobody, but as soon as he did, corruption was within every action he'd taken... Embezzlement, affairs, murder, anything one could imagine.
Zephyr did not feel any remorse in selling out that person and soon after that man was captured by The Immortal, who tortured him day and night to squeeze any fragment of important information out of him before sending his head directly to the leader of the other group. As he learned, those two factions had been in more conflicts against each other than against other factions, and the leader of that other faction had personally done some cruel things to someone from The Immortal's inner circle, going after their family, burning their house while they slept and then torturing them to death. Whilst those two factions fought, gathering information from the inside was quite easy, thus, taking advantage of a physical fight that took place in a secret warehouse involving the two groups, one in which the leader of this faction proved his title after being stabbed ten times on multiple places and standing his ground like that was nothing, Zephyr managed to find out the identity of The Immortal, one Dorian Havjar, formerly an Iskaran high ranked military officer who was tasked with accompanying a caravan of nobles to Lysara during the attack. Apparently he'd been discharged dishonorably after an argument with one of those nobles led to a fight that ended in tragedy as the nobleman will never walk again. His weaknesses had been exposed: he was hot headed and careless, relying only on his physical attributes to deal with his problems. The fatal flaw that he showed was as simple as his title: he believed himself to be immortal, impossible to kill, the apex predator, therefore, he would never expect to be outwitted with a trap or a decent poison. Unlike The Crow, this one had to go, together with his minions...
The third group his gaze fell upon was the antagonizing faction to The Immortal's, commanded by a woman by the nickname The Judge, and, through simple surface-level research, he could find out that her merciful and lawful facade was merely an act to hide her delight in causing pain to others, sadistic and narcissistic. He watched them carefully, each member was, like their leader, a master of lies, so much so that Zephyr almost fell for one of those member's tricks whilst playing his part as Gulliver Olmer - a face crafted to please that faction, especially their leader, a wealthy handsome nobleman with a mysterious secret from Astoria that came to town looking for some fun in gambling and other much more criminal addictions, happily married. As Gulliver, he was approached by The Judge's men offering a deal a man such as himself couldn't refuse, information regarding secret places to "have a good time", houses in which he could gamble, everything related to pleasure... However, a man of noble status would never agree to deals with underlings, that's how he disguised his attempt to get closer to the third head. It worked, as he'd already planted seeds of curiosity on her mind beforehand by giving her two things: a secret she couldn't hear from anyone else, sweet as candy to someone like her, and something she could not have... Him.
Their meeting was filled with tension as she teased him, first with words, then with her body, trying to bend the honor of an honest man, to make him break his vows to a loved one, to make him hers to use as she pleased, a new toy for her collection, and once she had him, his secrets would also come as a bonus. It was fun to watch her play the role of seductress, thinking she had him trapped in her web, now knowing he was the one patiently waiting for the time to pounce; it was all a game to them, but she had lost before it started. It was hard to find out her identity by watching her body language, she wasn't as easy to read as the other two, she was a master os lies and deceit... One moment she could be a lost princess, innocent, playful, on the next one, she might as well be a crimelord, bragging about her powerful connections, offering money, women and much more. She was complex, a puzzle he was very much interested in solving, but a moment was enough for him to see through those arrogant eyes, the use of a word none other than nobility would choose to implement in a common sentence. She slipped and fell right into his trap... To match her voice and figure to that of a specific noble woman in the Queendom would be hard, but he didn't have to go that far, he only had to pretend like he knew something. The hidden secret he had prepared...
One sentence said by the man making his way out of the private room they'd arranged for the meeting was enough to break The Judge, words carefully thrown like daggers to her heart, praising her while leaving doubt in her heart regarding his knowledge of her family. A person who believes they're the smartest in every room they're in will always despair once they notice they're not as cunning as they believed... After a single week he found the paranoid wolf in sheep's clothing, using her personal connections to find out about the man named Gulliver Olmer, the face that soon disappeared from everywhere and anywhere together with all the stories she'd heard from her informants, a mask crafted in a day and dismantled in a night. That title "The Judge" soon could be linked to a face and a name: Leanna Aurellan only daughter to House Aurellan, a branch-family from the Elowen of the Silverlands. To the outside world, she was an innocent elvhen girl, carrying purity of blood and heart. He'd found her weaknesses, she was impulsive, arrogant and vain, through her mask she acted on her deepest darkest desires, hurting people for her own satisfaction, she didn't have devout followers, she had minions that followed her while it was convenient to do so, however, he knew for a fact they would betray her in a second if they thought there was someone who'd give them more than she did. Amidst the revelations, there it was, her fatal flaw, she was still bound to her image to the outside world, she was fearless as The Judge, but fearful as Leanna; her family was very influent, her mother kept her on a leash, tight, almost to the point of asphyxiation, and if the truth about who she really was behind that act of pure girl were to surface, she would be doomed.
The other factions were smaller, weaker, they cooperated with one another at times, striving to survive, hoping the three bigger ones would continue their conflicts with each other so that they wouldn't be swallowed by their numbers. Most of the people on these other four were commoners and refugees, fishermen, bakers, farmers, the working class that were once the best informants to The Link since they were the ones in contact with the people; the four leaders had an agreement, a truce, an armistice, promising not to meddle in each other's business while they tried to work together for their own people's good. Leadership within these groups was weak, only figure heads that detained little to no power of their own, representing their group in meetings with the other heads, but unable to make decisions without a proper vote. The Lion, a young man, certainly not older than his early twenties yet, with the build of a warrior but whose demeanor was enough evidence to prove he'd never held a sword in his life, most likely a farmer; The Tide, a more mature woman, probably close to, if not already, forty years old, whose hands were rough from excessive usage of soap and water, definitely a washing lady; The Storm, an impatient but kind middle-aged man whose build did not show the years of training, made obvious due to the calluses on his hands and density of his muscles, and last, but not least, The Hourglass, a shifting figure, sometimes male, sometimes female, well-mannered, well-spoken and very much literate, to the point one would consider nobility or even a servant of royalty, but Zephyr could see through it, a librarian. He didn't bother to find out their identities, however, since they didn't pose a threat to his claim and would most likely gladly follow him back to the old days of glory of the organization. Although there was corruption to some extent within the groups, the scale in which it happened was minimal and caused by the lack of support, which lead those who relied on The Link's funding to survive and feed their families to sell information to other factions or embezzle a small sum of the intel purchase payment. He could deal with that later.
In order of which to deal with, Zephyr had placed The Judge and The Immortal in first and second place respectively, possibly interchangeable, but he wouldn't dare risk dealing with Dorian first and allowing Leanna to use the extra influence she'd get to seize control of the smaller factions. In other words, Dorian was easier to deal with, she was the real problem. In third place was The Crow, which could either become a great talented ally or a difficult enemy to deal with depending on the circumstances; he was yet to decide whether he wanted to do with the old man Oswald. For months the Genasi focused on playing tricks on both the main factions, mainly The Judge and The Immortal' factions, framing the other whilst ruining their plans to get money and manpower, interfering with and restricting intel, forging letters and documents, weakening both factions by pushing them against each other continuously, watching them destroy themselves at a safe distance. When the time was right, his ascent to the leadership was smooth, offering them a taste of their own medicine. The Judge was gifted with a book containing copies of evidence to many crimes she'd committed, enough to give her a death sentence, stepping on her pride and crushing her will, she was now at his mercy... The Immortal tasted the fear of sudden demise for the first time by a poison for which only Zephyr had the antidote, proving that mortals should not dare think so highly of themselves... To one who'd never been played and one that never believed their day would come, the shock of reality was immense as they were faced with a being capable of making them kneel in fear; it was not by fear that they were ruled, however, it was a newfound feeling of devotion that guided them to lower their heads to their master, the one that defeated them completely.
As predicted, the first head and the other four were no threat once he showed a glimpse of his capabilities, silently following behind the other two to under the one true mastermind of The Link, The Master, Zephyr. With the organization once again unified, it took only a couple of months to get rid of parasites and other creatures of corruption that had found their way inside; he left the task to The Crow to find them, The Judge dealt with choosing their punishment and The Immortal enforced said sentence. The organization was, now, more exclusive than ever, ranks weren't only on paper anymore, there was a clear chain of command, now, information didn't find their way to the high rankings until verified by the lower rankings - in a way, they were more powerful and influential now than they'd ever been before. Perhaps the once silly and carefree Genasi was finally showing the colours of his tainted soul...
Location: The Eastern Winds
For: Zephyr | @phyrofwild
Vash enjoyed shopping. Of all the sins now reflected in his monstrous form, the desire to adorn himself in comfortable fabrics and colors, to wear a ruby ring and a teardrop ruby earring, to eat fine food, and to step into places where he was not welcomeâthese sins were the ones he most easily accepted. While the horns that marked him as twisted were easily hidden, and his cloven hooves could largely be masked, his rectangular pupils would always give him away. So, he wore slightly tinted glasses. He was not so much a devil in disguise as he was a monster imitating a peacock for its elegance, attempting to draw the right attention and dissuade others from looking too deeply at him.
The desire to enjoy his time and explore was what caused him to seek out a new storeâone he hadnât been a customer of yet. The store, The Eastern Winds, was not an established store by any means. He wasnât sure if there would be a crowd or whether it would be quiet (he hoped for quiet). Though, whether it had a dedicated clientele or not didnât matter, and it didnât matter that there was nothing Vash truly needed.
Right now, he was high on humanity. The feeling of euphoria wouldnât last forever; the soul he had devoured would eventually lose its flavor, leaving him hollow. For now, though, he could enjoy the feeling of being aliveâhaving the purity of a non-blight-tainted soul residing in the cage of his skeleton gave him a moment of peace. He didnât deserve it. He shouldnât partake so liberally of souls⌠he should suffer. Penance. Fire. Pain. He should suffer because he didnât deserve peace and comfort.
He would force himself to suffer tenfold in the coming weeks. Starting tomorrow. Or the day after.
Today, he would follow the path she had told him about. Her name forgotten, he remembered her as the beautiful young woman with hair the color of ravenâs wings and eyes that sparkled with blue fire. She had giggled and nuzzled against him, speaking about the store and the mysterious things it held, as well as the enigmatic shopkeeper. She had offered to go with him. âWe could make it a date,â she had said, and he laughed, pressing her back into the soft bed. He could have let her go⌠she was kind, doting, sweet⌠she had the voice of a songbird and the potential to sing on stage⌠but he wished to add the sound of her giggle, and her songs, to the symphony of misdeeds he heard in his mind. He wanted to keep her, and because he knew he couldnâtâhe selfishly made sure that no one would be able to enjoy her as he had.
Drawing himself out of his memories, he saw the sign indicating the entryway to the shop. It moved back and forth with a slow swing, as though there were wind to push it despite the humid, calm day. He studied it for a moment before allowing himself inside. There, he saw the shopkeeper. Or the one he assumed to be the shopkeeper. Perhaps it was an assistant. Or a clever thief who had murdered the shopkeeper and stashed his body underneath the floorboards.
âThe man of mystery, I presume?â Vash greeted. âThe stories a friend of mine told me about your store said it was as peculiar as the one who ran it. I wanted to see it for myself.â
There were many things in life he valued way more than money, but he knew all too well money was something that one had to have to live in that world, unfortunetaly. A debt, for exemple, was something he never thought he'd have, and yet now he owed thousands to a Bank of all things, and that was quite funny to him, and also very exciting to think he could be entrapped by his contract - maybe he'd let that happen just so he could experience something new? No, that would be unfun. That store was just a shell for what his mind had created for the future decade anyway, it was a means to an end, but that didn't mean he did not care for the place.
The Genasi had recently bought plants and flowers as decor for his shop from a beautiful intricate place in another part of Lysara, the Wildflower Well, and, now that they had arrived, he was trying to find the correct place to position them. That was one of the reasons he only ever noticed someone had come in when he heard the steps closer to the balcony, turning towards the visitor and possible client with a huge smile.
"Man of mystery?" He asked, furrowing his brows slightly and then letting out a short chuckle. "I'm not as mysterious as one might think, really." That was not true, but he'd rather pretend he was an open book than have others try to figure him out and find things he didn't know he had to hide. "Good thing your friend speaks greatly of my store, though. Who would that be, I ask? Maybe a discount on their next purchase is in order." Not too much, he was still an indebted man. "I am Zephyr, the owner of The Eastern Wind." He offered a hand towards the other, over the glass balcony. "Nice to meet you...?" He awaited an introduction.
who?: @phyrofwild
when?: neptunalia
where?: some secret hideout in westreach
The instructions for the drop were followed to the letter as per usual. Aegean arrived at the safe house, face shrouded by his hood and his weave, with the ledger deposited on the lone table precisely at the specified time. âEvery detail of each Iskaran merchant and traderâs disrupted foreign shipping deals. As of the time of collecting this data, none have been able to resume business.â Just as he did not need other thieves inquiring too deeply into his movements, Aegean minded himself and did not even attempt to probe Phyr's thoughts. He kept his eyes trained forward. Secrecy was a condition of these intel drops and the last thing he needed was to incur the ire of someone who paid him decently for jobs like this, call if professional courtesy. âI wouldnât dare assume what your intentions with such information are, but should you choose to move in on these ventures you'd surely see sizable profit returns,â he says, thankful that Calla was requested personally to assist the Agents with clearing refugees. âReturns that I can expect a percentage of if Iâm to continue my good work for you, no?â
Zephyr had arrived a few moments early and had already taken his place on the table, legs resting stretched over each other on the floor. His fox mask worn cleverly to hide his features from other thieves, not wishing to find trouble in his business, although he didn't really care that much. He remained silent with a soft smile on his lips as the other spoke. Contrary to regular day-to-day interactions, the Genasi found it easier to deal with this kind of transaction when he kept his mouth shut. That person was someone he found was great at doing jobs like this, and, respecting the other's work, he did not question the ledger's contents. It was usually a quick exchange, but the other seemed to be interested in talking for a change. "Oh?" The Genasi spoke for the first time. "I didn't take you for greedy..." He withdrew his legs, leaning forward over the table with his elbows, his sharp gaze fixed on the other. "Tell me then, if I were to move in, what percentage do you think would be fair for you to 'continue your good work', dear?" He inquired, wishing to know how far the other's greed would take him, since that was something he didn't have in him. Intel was much more interesting than gold.
Nero thought birds must know quite a lot but he wasn't going to argue with the other man by any means. Mostly because it was more amusing to go along with what it. Swan's he thought were a special kind of evil, a bit of an upgrade from geese. Somehow he thought Lysaran swans in general had to be entitled, perhaps it had thought the sandwich beneath it. "My friend, does a woman fifteen feet tall sound like fun?" Melava would surely be missed, but he could never commit to someone with that amount of intensity in not just her heart, but in her thrusts. "I fought some trees, helped a mother. You know, typical merchant things." He offers Phyr a little pat on the shoulder. "What of you? Chasing more water fowl?"
Zephyr had already forgotten of the things he'd probably done to the woman back in their little adventure, but it was clear he had not, and that was quite the story he didn't know he wanted to hear more about. "I'm not even going to ask what you did to that woman, but I'm glad you had fun." He laughed it off with a shake of his head. "Yes, the typical merchant behavior indeed." He agreed. He himself wasn't an usual merchant so he could relate to the other. "I'm still upset I didn't introduce myself and talked about my shop to the Matron of the Spriggans... Maybe she'd be interested in a Peacepipe..." He sighed. "Oh, no, definitely not! And never more, I say! I did make friends with some stray cat and a pidgeon the other day, though..." And they probably were happy with his sandwiches. "Don't tell me you're interested in chasing water fowl now? I highly advise against it..."
"I find amusement in taking shiny, stolen things." A grin tugs at her lips and she's never had much motivation for the greater good, the only morally redeeming thing about her is that what she takes from the rich will sometimes find their way into the hands of the poor. She grew up only wanting to survive, which being alone in the wilderness with her touch being one that harmed allowed her to grow careless for the fate of others. "Gotta stay one step ahead of the law at all times, staying still has never really benefitted me." One of her shoulders lift. "Enough to eat will do."
"Oh? Lucky me I don't usually deal with shiny things." He chuckled. Although sometimes the things he dealt with were, indeed, shiny. It was cheap, too cheap at that, and that was a steal in more than one ways, if he was to be honest. "I can't offer you only that much..." He spoke his heart. Stealing wasn't a practice to be condoned, but he also would never condemn someone who had their reasons for such a thing. "How about this... I'll pay you a meal today and then I can offer you a few gold pieces for the broach." He offered with a kinder smile, interested in her story.
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The homesickness he wrestled with wasn't easily placated, but neither was Alrik the type to wallow about his misfortune. He'd been through worse and survived far more terrible things than displacement. Alrik would always make due, he was a survivor and he'd endure Lysara's backwards customs as well.
"The only faith I place is in myself." Alessia's betrayal still sat on his shoulders, there had been a time when he thought it would be the two of them against the world. It was only in retrospect that Alrik realized how childish it was, their paths diverged and from here on he would walk his alone. Phyr's candor surprised him though, "I didn't expect to hear that from one of their own." Alrik had eyes, insight, and history with the merchant beside him. That they were both hiding in plain sight in Yggdrasildal wasn't lost on him. Alrik, who'd never met a witch he trusted, then asked, "What made you so jaded?"
Zephyr knew the witch in front of him was well aware of his connections to Druidism, but his true nature as a Genasi was a secret hidden from the world that few would really know about, so the other's words were to be expected. "A Druid can never lie..." He spoke with a theatrical short bow and the scoff that followed. A truth he found so easily manipulatable since people seemed to trust them so easily due to that belief they didn't even have to lie about anything, they just had to omit the truth from their words and perform their ever-so-righteous part on that play. "Their beliefs blind them from what really matters. They hide behind their pretty words and virtues and only see things as black and white, never all the shades of gray... Hypocrites." He said the last part under a sigh, taking a long sip that finished his cup.
The merchant stopped for a second and decided to look beyond his own personal experience, as it did not matter. "I think I've just drank too much." He laughed it off. "It doesn't even really matter... The Druids may be assholes, but they can be helpful to the right people." If that aligned or did not interfere with their notion of balance and equilibrium, that was. So far as the other's wishes were fair, he could find answers in their Ancient Stones. The Genasi stood up from his chair. "I think we'll see how that goes... Good luck, young friend." He chuckled, leaving a few coins to pay the bill on the table and left.
"Oooo, Aunty Kara," she repeated, her eyes bright with equal glee and amusement. How Sakkara loved children, innocent little beings with such potential and such wonder in their eyes. Phyr was a protector, someone who looked after other's. She silently promised herself that whatever life Zephyrus made for himself, children or no, she would love the family he gathered up for himself. She expected he would. Phyr had always been prone to be far less isolated than she, and someone who collected many to his side while Sakkara only waited for them to come. His loved ones would be her own, and she would care for them. "I like the sound of that." She would not elaborate or continue speaking on her desires of seeing him as The Keeper, nor would she say it outright with words. Fate weaves as it wills, and Sakkara is not brave enough to voice her deepest desires into real words.
"You might need to stop that before I grow an ego," she teased him. But Phyr's question had her then reaching over and ruffling his long, dark hair as she grinned. "If Fate wills it, a long time from now." A long time could be defined as years, and druids still lived to a ripe age. If she was lucky, Sakkara would leave this world an old woman again - her staff serving as a cane instead, laugh lines on her face and a sense of peace that she would not be returning again this time. "Because we still need to make it to Lysara, don't we? Astoria has been exhausted, you have learned everything you need here. I wanted to keep it a surprise until I was sure but tonight I am. I've continued drawing the card of Death in regards to your path as a student. As I've told you, it isn't a scary card, especially not for you. It just means the end of one thing," She looked hopeful and excited, thinking of all the opportunities a new country would have for him. "It's time to expect the start of something new."
He chuckled as she ruffled his haird. "And if Fate doesn't, I'll find my way back to you eventually..." He assured her. As Zephyr heard of the card, his demeanor changed for but a second, he knew it didn't mean literal death, but he saw that as an omen, he hoped it didn't mean the end of them, of his connection to the nature or of the influence of the Circles; maybe Death could be hope? Maybe it meant the end of the old values of the DĂşnedain? There was still a chance he could convince them to fight against the ever-growing evil of this world instead of standing their ground and just watching as it consumed Iskaldrik. To Phyr, the worst evil wasn't the threat of the darkspawn and the creatures of darkness, but the prejudice that came from within, that turned ally against ally, that corruption that prevailed in that Kingdom of mad rulers and idiotic powers.
Nonetheless, that wasn't a topic for today. He offered Sakkara a kind smile. "You are right." He agreed, his mind always looking for ways to find the brighter side and hoping that she had a better knowledge on that than he did. If she said it didn't mean bad things, he could trust her, right? She certainly knew what she was talking about. "Maybe I can expect the start of my sleep soon." He joked, offering a teasing smile to her. It was almost time for them to go to bed since the day of tomorrow was something they were yet to see. "I'm sure I'll be dreaming of that life you told me about, though." He was a dreamer after all... He got up from his seat and started preparing their camp for the night.
Freydis thought about his suggestion that it was the sudden, new adopted lifestyle that made her feel like time blurred itself, but she wasnât so sure. A life of being just a refugee was something she might have chosen if she had the option and hindsightânot that the others had it easier than she did. But she felt the shift in her fortune had included a total change in lifestyle as well as the troubling memory of what had been demanded of her to survive in the broodmotherâs lair, fighting the whole way back to the encampment, and the inherited memories of an inconceivable lengthy lifetime that was hers and not hers all at once. âI supposed it does,â she agreed quietly in favor of trying to explain all of this to him. He was a perfect stranger, and even those she trusted most hadnât been told the better half of what she carried with her now.Â
âI suspect you may know more about it than youâre letting on,â she responded, playing into his pretend ignorance for a moment or two, but his shop did interest to her, if only as an easy topic over which to engage in small talk. âWould you tell me a bit about it? Perhaps Iâll stop by before I leave the city, or the next time I return.â She didnât have much coin to spend despite the fact sheâd held a high station back in Iskaldrik.
Her eyes shifted to him again and she spent a few moments trying to decide how much it made sense to share with the unfamiliar man. His question seemed genuine, but a part of Freydis still wondered if she was more of a joke to him than anything else given their initial conversation back at the barrier. âI suppose part of it might boil down to culture shock,â she finally answered after some consideration, âand another part of it comes down to preconceived notions about me, about Iskarans in general. It seems many of those who hold higher station here think weâre savages, and perhaps as a society, we do lean a little more heavily into that sort of thing than they do here. But they look at us like weâre animals sometimes.â She was quiet for a moment before adding, âEspecially the ones of us whoâŚ. Were taken.â She hoped that was all the explanation Zephyr would need to understand her meaning.
When asked about his shop, a bigger smile appeared upon his features. "It's not a big shop yet, so don't build your hopes up too much, but it is big enough to show its colors." He explained, thinking back to the establishment, trying to capture its essence within his words. "I deal with trinkets of powers beyond their appearances... I recently bought an amulet that changes your luck, if you believe in this kind of things. I have tested it out and it seems to be real, but it also might be a coincidence." He laughed it off. It obviously was not a coincidence since he could feel magic flowing out of the piece, but to others he prefered to be seen as a mere merchant of goods and valueables. "Please, do not hesitate to visit my shop if you're ever in the area. I think we could find a thing or two of your liking there..."
Zephyr would say he was the type that didn't deal with first impressions, and it was true, but he knew many others weren't as he was. Thankfully she seemed to be one to look past the awkward interaction they'd had before, which was a good sign. Maybe he'd misjudged her before, when he was given a recommendation by one of the members of his organization to invite her - at the time he only saw her as someone who would turn a blind eye to both good and evil, too cold to care, and that did not suit his vision of The Link. He didn't know if the status of refugee had changed her or if he'd just missed something on his analysis, but it was interesting to see he'd been wrong, as it was not a common thing in his world.
Hearing her speak of the refugees was fascinating. "I see..." He replied with a nod. "When I left Lysara to venture through Iskaldrik, I was firmly advised otherwise by friends I had made... 'It's a land of brutes and cruelty', they said... 'They'll chain you up and eat you alive'..." He looked away from her, to the waters of Tiber Bay. "But I didn't find that there. I found a land of prideful brave people... Of people who could endure injustice and grew stronger when faced against it. Misguided and mistreated..." He smiled over at her. "What I mean to say is that there is prejudice within Lysara as there was within Iskaldrik. But, as in times of need most of you grew to see past the innate prejudice against magic, it's just a matter of time until one can see past the surface of the other here." He shrugged it off. "Soon enough you'll find something good for you here, I'm sure."
âLetâs find out if it is worth the price, or if I will have to find something more interesting for you,â she drawls, stepping into the Cisterns behind him, eyes flickering around to see the usual crew she finds every time she chooses to visit the rumored bar before her gaze settles back in Phyr. Careful eyes note the exchange between the bartender and Phyr, and ValdĂs adds the interaction to the growing list of evidence she had of Phyr going around more than she had known. The more evidence, the better, for it meant that his information network was as thorough as he claimed. He has not led her wrong, so far, but it never hurts to be careful.Â
ValdĂs is taken by surprise when the other manages to clear a table with a look and a gesture, but she keeps her face neutral as she tucks away that bit of information. It is different, she thinks, from having a vast information network, and she supposes she might have to keep a closer eye on the thief than she had initially decided to. Clearly, what he hides goes far deeper than she thinks.Â
âA thief and a gentleman, what a pleasant surprise,â she snarks as she takes the offered chair and settles comfortably, leaning into the table and resting her head on her hand as she observes the thief through narrowed eyes. The Captain of the Ran Armada considers the informant for a moment, before the answer slips through her lips. âI want information on Iskaldrik and the survivors. What happened, what is happening, who made it out. That sort of thing.â
The barrier makes it so there will be no excursions into Iskaldrik for a while, but sooner or later it will fall, and she will be ready.
Zephyr let out a short laugh, it was funny how she categorized him as a thief of all things. He'd hardly considered himself as such even if that was a title that came with his position within the Thieves' Guild, and that was because he would never get his own hands dirty, although he did deal with those who did. "You call me a thief but I doubt you've ever seen me steal anything..." He spoke and offered her a wink. He'd leave it up to her how she'd take his words, if he was suggesting he was that good or saying he resort to stealing.
Her next words, however, spiked his interest, and the smile he had on his lips turned a bit less mischevous. "May I ask what you need that sort of information for, Captain?" He asked. They both knew all too well she didn't have to answer that question as long as she had something of value to offer, and she seemed to be offering the one thing he once wanted from her, but also a thing that was hard to accept since the barrier was still up and no one from the outside knew if those who mattered inside were still alive or had already been consumed by either the war or the darkspawn.
The Genasi didn't say anything for a moment, but soon looked over at the bartender who'd brought them two cups of ale, thanking him with a nod and watching as he went away. "I could give you the information you want, but... f Iskaran refugees can't be saved through your methods, what will you give me instead?"
"Place me first in line for a demonstration when you do, friend." Time. A fair request but when Alrik thought about the boon of time he silently thought of shackles as well. His life had felt long already, he couldn't imagine what it would be to live past a century, for two, or for three. One painful decade would roll into another, maybe he'd find bliss, but with years like that, it was inevitable to see that happiness ripped away. If time were a river then Alrik was happy to close his eyes and drift. "Another drink." It was a cheap answer and he felt that, so after the momentary smirk, his mouth faltered.
"Then a hint, as is fair." Alrik took a beat, it wasn't in his nature to divulge anything that might make him vulnerable in any way, but the displacement had left him with an air of absolute certainty. He was a violent creature, he knew this, and he was hardly fair toward those who trusted him most. Alessia among them. "I don't know, yet I'm not without options. The world is happening around me and I-" Alrik paused for a moment as he chipped away at a piece of the bar, earning a scowl from the wench before he ceased his fidgeting. "I don't see my place in it. I want to go home, but there's a barrier between me and Iskaldrik. The druids once traveled through the mist, I'm hoping to find my solution among their old stones." Another beat passed, "Home," Alrik added, "that's what I'd buy."
That first answer didn't suit the persona he'd already created in his own mind of the man in front of him, it was too simple, too easy to acquire, so it made the Genasi squint slightly at the sound of it, smile still intact brightening his otherwise unsatisfied features. He could smell lies from as far as one could tell them, but he reckoned that answer was just for show. The next moment, however, the other did recover from that disappointing answer by giving him something to remain interested, so he would not complain just yet, he wanted to see where it was going.
Zephyr listened to Alrik speak, acknowledging his words and the feeling that he expressed through them. "I know the feeling of missing home..." He really did. When he faced the arches he did not once feel alone or even have a single thought of going back to his old household, and years went by seeminglessly as he studied the way of the Druids before eventually he found himself alone in this world, no family alive to call his own, it was only then that regret filled his heart that he could not be there for their final moments, but all stories have an ending. "Don't put all your hopes on their ancient stones and comforting words, though..." It was clear he still was not over his past with the DĂşnedain. They had abandoned him once before. "They're known for being pricks sometimes."
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Raven didn't like being noticed, wasn't used to others observing her as she took by her whims and her heart had hardened from loneliness that she cared little for the consequences of others. She went where she wanted and it wasn't her first time in Eterna, she had learned many years ago that beyond the smiling faces and polished street corners was a selfish mean underbelly of a city. Still, she had found a home by the highway, a place to steal and keep very little to her own name. "Why do you want them?" An eyebrow cocked and her tone indicated that she was willing to make a deal, examining a shiny broach in her hand, she tossed it upwards where Bojangles caught it in his mouth. "Act quick before it's all gone."
Zephyr had once been one to say nothing could go on in Taravell without him knowing of it, but now that The Link had been weakened by the war as its members did what they could to help refugees and save their own asses, it was hardly so. He heard her question and couldn't help but smile, noting that she could be someone he could work with. "I find amusement in owning shiny stolen things, what can I say?" He giggled to himself. His gaze followed the item as it was tossed to the bird. "Why? Are you in a hurry?" He joked. "It all depends on the price you're asking for, darling..."
A moment flickers as she considers her options, before ValdĂs throws her head back and sighs as she realizes a relatively easy offer to make that could garner the thiefâs interest. Unfortunately, it requires her to listen to a spiel she had long since decided to ignore, but alas, if making the offer to listen covers the cost of the information she wants it might be well worth it.Â
âIf I were to allow you to try and sell me the idea you mentioned last time, would that be a worthy price? Or has that ship sailed now that the situation has changed?â She doesnât doubt that there are still people attempting to leave Iskaldrik, and if it were the case, her ships are likely to be a better escape than the long ass journey the troupe had made North. But perhaps the logistics are too complicated, now that Phyr is here and not over there. âAnd if not, do you have any preferences as for what you wish to know in exchange?â
Another huff of amusement echoes in her chest as her eyes flicker to meet Phyrâs with a playful smirk, as the raider wonders what similarities is the information broker zooming into. What comes to mind is their dislike of the law, and their desire for information, but who knows with the information broker.Â
âWell, that is one thing we donât have in common,â she muses as she falls into step next to him and heads for the Cisterns, opening the door for Phyr once they reach it and gesturing him inside. âBest you go first and secure the seats, what with this being more your territory than mine.â
It had been so long since they tried to agree on the terms of extraction for magic refugees in Lysara that the Genasi almost forgot about it... Almost. He kept a smile on his lips as she spoke, wondering how much she knew of what was currently happening in Iskaldrik. Now refugees that had not yet reached another kingdom had long lost their hopes and probably mostly their lives, be it to the blade or to the chains, if he was to say. It'd been to long. Besides, without the Legion to keep watch, the darkspawn probably had already started moving inside the fallen kingdom. "That will only depend on the information you seek..." He replied.
At this point, he's been to the Cisterns enough times to be able to recognize a few people inside as he slips in, greeting the bartender with a tip of his head and a smile, although only the first part was mirrored by the tall man, and greeting a few other members of the Thieves' Guild before finding a table he liked, one that he usually sat at. There were two talking at this table, so he gave them a look and gestured them to leave and so they did, before he turned to the captain. "Please, have a seat." He offered, pulling a chair to her, although just as a fun performance before he took his own seat across from there.
The fox gestured to the bartender and the message was received by him as the large man started preparing two cups for them. "So, ValdĂs Wavebreaker... What do you wish to know from us?" He specifically said 'us' instead of 'me' to make sure she knew she wasn't talking to the man Zephyr, but to the organization behind him. He was sure she knew how that usually went, if he didn't have the information at hand, he could ask his robins to search the intel later, and he'd hardly accept payment before their service.