Chapter 2A -- You Say It Like a Bad Thing

[Mavrus]

Mavrus watched with a kind of attentiveness that only comes about when ones head could be smashed in.. or even worse, a few chips in a brand new sword and some dents in the not-that-shiny-but-just-polished armor.  Mavrus watched as the orc lost his newly aquired and hard fought for orb to a deft flick of Luca's wrist and a tear of Fishhook's pouch.  Luca picked up the orb, and when she did, her eyes got wide and she looked sleepy, just as Mavrus had done when he himself looked into the orb.  Visions had come to him in his stupor, and he knew Luca was ensnared in the same "spell" or whatever it was that the orb used to keep hold over its users.  "Aryia!  Get that orb away from Luca, but don't look into it yourself!"  Mavrus called across the orc to his companions.  

Aryia seemed to respond by shouting out Luca's name.  Then, all of a sudden the earth in front of Fishhook exploded sending earth flying.  Mavrus was concerned about Fishhook and the orb.  If we break the orb right now.. then maybe he'll leave us alone, and we won't have to risk a fight, then again, he might go into a beserk rage and fight us for breaking his orb...  Mavrus deemed the best course of action to wait it out, moving into more of a defensive stance.

[Luca the Thief]

Luca blinked once and everything was the same. Luca blinked twice, and her fingers had moved. Luca blinked thrice and the orb was falling.

The half-elf started and sneezed as dust tickled her lightly freckled nose. "Atwuu!" she squeaked, crouching over slightly. Something hard and circular hit her foot and the orb took, once again, a casual joy roll across the grass.

"Hey Adam. That orc over there thinks he's a better Great House player than you. You should go challenge him to a game."

The drunk's head twitched with recognition. "Better than me?" he murmured absently, slowly strolling over to the scene. There was a lot of yelling going on, and it was starting to hurt Adam's head.

His foot kicked the orb and, since he really didn't have the reflexes to do anything else, keeled over onto his face. The thin man toppled, most of his body landing with a thud on the cool grass but one part having a less that gentle landing.

Adam's forehead came forward and smashed against the orb. Unconcious, the drunk became silent. And not a sound came from his position except for the very quiet, very small, very ominous 'crik' of glass.

Luca's mouth gaped open as the crack in the glass spidered out along the glass. Finally, when it had more cracks than glass, the orb shattered into million of individual orbs and dull, pink clouds floated out into the air.

"Woah..." was all the half-elf could say for a moment, then added, "Did you see that? Do it again!"

"Life moves pretty fast. And if you don't stop and look around sometimes, you just might miss it."

-Ferris Bueller

[Aryia en Evasha]

Aryia`en groaned inwardly at Luca's display of what could only be described as feebleness. She had seen a display of such senility in aged humans. In them it was endearing and at times a little irritating, but in Luca, it was shameful, and Aryia`en attributed it to the lesser part of Luca's heritage.

Aryia`en had had enough. Never give an orb to a half-elf. In fact, never give anything to a half-elf -- especially if they made a career out of "taking" things from people. Narrowed eyes seething in disgust at a still dazed Luca, she held her Scourge threateningly at Fishhook, an indication that if he stepped forth there was still the possibility of him being turned into supper for the night, while she placed a guarded heel in front of Luca, reaching for the orb herself.

Aryia`en was not concerned about an equally dazed drunk strolling towards the crowd. She had ascertained him as a non-threat. That was a mistake. The orb would forever hate Aryia`en letting her guard down, not that it would have any opportunity to express that sentiment to her anymore, as Adam keeled over, and a collective gasp of horror escaped the lips of the battered brownies strewned around with the shattering of the orb.

"Woah ...Did you see that? Do it again!"

That was it. The last thread of Aryia`en's patience snapped. With a low growl, the back of her hand flew to make the acquaintance of the back of Luca's head in what looked like would turn out to be a resounding thwap.  

[Fishhook The Orc]

Fishhook watched the orb crack and splinter into a thousand peices.   Bugger, he thought, that's me done for.  

"Don't come back without the orb!" he had been warned.

Fishhook didn't think they meant with a dust pan and brush.

"I dun spose eneewun go' anutha mahgeeeec ball tha makes peepuls goes a bit funneee, dus they?"

We du swap, yah? fur, yah? yoo give mee ten coin, yah? I give yoo unbrokun bodee, yah? yah?

So yah wunt tah na mee storee. Cost yah 3 Sahn

[Luca the Thief]

Luca was about to say something, but was shut up as Aryia'en's hand snapped forward and connected harshly with the back of her head.

Rubbing her skull, Luca whirred to glare angrilly at the elf. "What the bloomin' rose buds was that for!?" the half-elf cried, throwing her arms up into the air. She was about to continue but was interupted by a low groan from Adam's direction.

"Oh, fabulous," the half-elf muttered angrilly, stomping over to Adam and heaving the thin man up. She picked tiny shards of glass out of his scratched forhead and attempted to prop him upright against the wagon as timid brownies (at least those still capable of the daunting task of walking) began swarming about him.

"I dun spose eneewun go' anutha mahgeeeec ball tha makes peepuls goes a bit funneee, dus they?"

Luca turned to look at the orc, running a hand through her tussled hair. After a moment of deep, intense thought the woman looked up with a look of sheer decision on her face. Then, a tone of confusion rolling off her tongue, asked, "What, on Ava's good sweet grass, did you just say?"

"Life moves pretty fast. And if you don't stop and look around sometimes, you just might miss it."

-Ferris Bueller

[Ryldor Gadriel]

Drat Ryldor thought as Adam failed to make it over to the orc. I never get to have any fun. Surveying the scene, it seemed as if the chaos had passed. The orc had calmed down with the destruction of… whatever that glass thing was, although Mavrus was at the ready, just in case. Adam was being tended to by the brownies. Luca had apparently forgotten the hand to the back of her head and was chatting with the orc.

Ryldor walked up behind his two 'favorite' women. Mimicking Aryia'en's actions, he gently slapped both ladies on the backs of their heads and said "What's going on?"

It is not enough to conquer; one must learn to seduce. ~ Voltaire

[Aryia en Evasha]

A sudden gust of breeze swirled behind her neck, and then a flat surface landed in a dull thud at the back of her neck.

Swerving around in an instant, Aryia`en half-expected to be amazed by some kind of astonishing nifty move of a vengeful Luca returning her slapping favour. But there Luca was, still standing as dazed and muddled ala clueless-half-elf. Itdidn't take long for Aryia`en to realize that Ryldor had already stepped up behind them. The implication was obvious.

"What's going on?"

In short bursts of angry Styrash, Aryia`en declared Ryldor an uncouth limp-eared styrós, and sent a boot hefting down towards Ryldor's toes in retribution.  

[Mavrus]

Mavrus watched as the whole sticky situation they were in turned into a confused mess, and then into a some sort of a playful slapping contest between friends, and then there was the orc.  Pacified by the breaking of the orb, he didn't seem like he was going to strike or even raise a hand at them.  Rather, he asked in a questioning tone, "I dun spose eneewun go' anutha mahgeeeec ball tha makes peepuls goes a bit funneee, dus they?"  Confused for a moment, Mavrus tried to decipher the words.  

Fishhook's common was poor, but recognizable, and when Luca asked for a translation, Mavrus said with a grin at the sheepishness of the orc who just moments before seemed ready to give his life for the orb, "He's wondering if anyone has a spare orb."  Mavrus was tired, and since Fishhook didn't seem to be a threat anymore, he sheathed his sword, walked up to the nearest tree, and leaned up against it.  With a sigh, he folded his arms and said to the orc, "I doubt anyone has another orb here, though I'm not expert, magical items don't come along that often."

Edited by: Mavrus at: 4/16/04 6:18

[Aryia en Evasha]

Aryia`en stiffened considerably as the new arrival -- a ludicrously garbed barrel-chested male human with cascading dirty blond hair to his shoulders -- stepped forward and cheerily claimed credit for ... heroically holding up his sword to the sky. It was a wonder that the flapping chickens were not awed by his efficacious aura and headed straight for his static upright blade in an attempt to slaughter themselves. Aryia`en flicked a strand of her silver tress behind her ear as she narrowed her eyes at this newcomer. It was her non-vocal way of sniggering.

That was when the ear-splitting boom nearly knocked Aryia`en off her feet. Momentarily stunned and dazed, Aryia`en clutched tightly at her blades as dusty fog and debris filled her sight, veering left and right in a battle-ready pose in anticipation of some kind of sneak attack by an unseen enemy.

As the cloud of ashen murk cleared, Aryia`en could hear Shaer hissing in a staccatoe of shrill pitches, akin to the whining whinny of a horse. Aryia`en heard a short burst of scratching and she found herself wondering if a stray hound had nosied its way into the vicinity as well during the ensuing chaos, but as her vision cleared in painful watery stages she realized it was Luca with busy fingers in her brown mop of hair. Aryia`en also realized that there was only her and Luca standing in confusion amidst the smoky aftermath.

Aryia`en noticed the piece of folded parchment just as Luca stomped half a foot-print onto it. Curious, Aryia`en approached Luca from behind hoping to catch a glance of its contents as Luca pored industriously over it. As Luca finally turned towards her after considerably eyeballing of the parchment, Aryia`en prompted impatiently, "What is it? What does it say?"

After a prolonged glazed grin from the half-elf in response -- who was more interested in the single white feather that had landed on her nose than the actual parchment itself, Aryia`en briskly liberated the note from the feather-awed half-elf, and set upon reading it.

Aryia`en frowned slightly at the messy script of Tharian. Spoken Tharian had been her way of life for many years now, but written Tharian was another matter. Nevertheless, curiosity got the better of her and Aryia`en awkwardly read the content of the parchment aloud.

"If ... you want ... to ... to see your ... fried ... frie ... friends in ... feffin chic ... chickens ... one pie ... one piece again, the price ... price is ... one thousand ... bloody chickens ... sans a ... friend. Br..bring sans to the ... add..address be..below bla..blast that bird ... will you st..stop writ..writing down chickens you ... you ... mor..moron ..." At the end of the hastily scrawled note was a hastily scrawled address of a location in New Santhala, one that Aryia`en was not familiar with.

Edited by: Aryia en Evasha at: 6/2/05 15:02

[Unknown]

(This post is missing and can not be restored)

[Brodin Gerdrard]

Brodin had spent all the last day in the small village strolling past the small shops conversing with the owners, relaxing in the tavern, and basically just taking it easy. That seemed to sum up the extent of his life nowadays. With enough money to not have to work, he spent his time traveling from village to village passively looking for something. He didn’t know what that something was, but he kept his eye open for it anyway. He had been a wealthy merchant, but after letting his money corrupt him, he had lost almost everything. He often told himself that he wouldn’t do business again, but he couldn’t help himself from discussing with store owners and others about their wares and business. He told himself what he was doing was against what he had decided for the next section of his life, but that didn’t mean he could make himself stop. He had loved to talk with shopkeepers, and he still found a peace in it which he couldn’t find elsewhere. He realized the contradiction he was creating for himself, but chose to ignore it.

Brodin leaned back in the saddle. He had taken his time this morning getting prepared to leave, and eating breakfast. It was now almost midday, and he was just passing the last houses of the small village of which he didn’t know the name. He found the warm sun, and cooling breeze relaxing, and it softened his mood. He always had a depressed feel these days, more so when he left the villages he visited. It was a beautiful out; perhaps the Gods would have him find what he was looking for today.

Suddenly a swarm of chickens flew overhead, causing Brodin to crouch in the saddle. While peering after the flock and contemplating the oddity of the event, a blinding flash and a loud crack split the air from over a small rise ahead. Dazed, and seeing spots, it took Brodin a few seconds to recover himself. Jake hadn’t liked the loud noise, and had bolted several meters farther away from the hill. Reigning in, Brodin tried to get Jake under control. He had never been skilled at riding horses, and was having trouble getting the big animal to stop dancing around.

Finally Brodin got him under control, speaking soothing words in the horse’s ear. Wondering what had caused the huge commotion, he slowly started Jake forward. Dust and debris obscured the view over the hill; Brodin hoped no one was hurt. Cresting the top of the rise, the dust had started to settle, and he could see two figures standing together. Making his way over, he shouted out to them, “Hello there! No one hurt are they?”

[Luca the Thief]

Luca crossed her arms and listened to Aryia struggle out the phrases. She stuck out her bottom lip and nodded thoughtfully and importantly as the words vaguely registered in her mind, all the while twisting the feather between her thumb and index feather. White feathers littered the ground casually and one was actually sticking out of Aryia's hair in a teasingly amusing kind of way.

She listened to the letter and after Ayia'en stopped reading, Luca continued bobbing her head, eyes drooping in the way important people drooped their eyes. A moment of silence hung between them, as if both were waiting for somebody who wasn't there to speak. But, before the nonexistant entity could not speak, the half-elf's eyes drifted to the feather. To the note. To the other feathers. And to a bee that lingered on the wind. The gears her head started grinding and whining in protest as she began to peice together the information. They picked up speed and as the idea spurred itself to life in her mind so Luca's eyes snapped open wide.

"BIRDS!" she screamed suddenly, her face becoming an animated chariacture of reason and alertness, "It's all so clear now!" Luca paused, half expecting Aryia'en to snap her fingers and agree wholeheartedly with her. Not receiving such a reaction, the thief pressed on. "See, it's simple! Those orcs. Big guys. Remember the big guys? Of course. Okay, so the big guys were here, right? And now they're not. But there were a bunch of other people here, aye? But now they're not. It's too much of a coincidence to be..erm...a coincidence. It's painfully obvious that, see, those orcs, friends of that other guy, are mages. Now, you know how mages are right? Okay, if you didn't, I can just say that mages are cracked pots with no hope of being glued together, aye?"

The half-elf was vaguely interrupted as a figure crested a nearby hill, where it seemed many figures were cresting this morning, and waved, calling out to them. Luca, too caught up in her genius thesis, vaguely waved at his direction and continued on, full force.

"And, really, orcs are a lot more cracked than mages though mages are a lot more cracked than barrel-makers. Have you ever met a barrel-maker? They're really quite mad...er...." Luca paused for it seemed her mouth had gotten too far ahead of her brain. It took the thief's mind but a minute to catch up, and soon the half-elf was masterfully prattling off once again. "Anyway, if there's an orc-mage running around out there, they've got to be beyond cracked. He'd be permanently smattered, I'm sure!

"And-and-and-and," Luca continued, her excitement birthing a bit of a stutter as her brain worked overtime to keep up with the independently moving mouth. By this point, Luca’s hand movements have surpassed a  level of flamboyance and her pacing was kicking up dust and unfortunate ants. “So these orc mages, like all mages, need spell reagents right? Stuff like bat-nasties and dried flowers. Maybe they needed chickens and,” Luca paled at the thought and counted her fingers before continuing in a strained whisper, “They only took the men! What if…what if they need certain spess’mens from them?” Luca groaned at the thought of the boys having to give up their utilities, “And that new one wasn’t half bad looking, either. Yii! We must avenge them! And the chickens. Or…that’s what the mages want us to do!  Maybe they just want us to come after them and they need us for their unnatural type…spearmint.” Luca finished with a climax, crouching low and cupping her chin in her hand. “This is bad. Bad bad bad.”

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[Aryia en Evasha]

Aryia`en wasn't quite sure what overcame her, but she had evidently allowed nary a word to pass between them as Luca's eyes merrily glazed over her and the rest of the currently-quite-dusty-world at large like a little kid intoxicated on the latest colourful, gooey,funny-shaped teeth-rotting candy. Later on as Aryia`en looked back, she would come to the distressing conclusion that even then, mayhaps through some half-elven witchery, the little mop of brown hair had already burrowed her way into Aryia`en's soft spot at heart, allowing even the imperviousness (and oh the insult) of dazed glances not of the paying homage kind.

But that was later. Right now the little brown-head was muttering excitingly on and on about flying fowls, orcs, magic and --

“Hello there! No one hurt are they?”

It was merely a faint echo in the wind, but Aryia`en's well-trained hearing was sharper than her sharp tipped ears. First a spray of sqawking feathered chunks, then an unexplainable eruption of dust and smoke. Aryia`en wasn't taking any chances this time, her whole body sweeping into full alertness, fingers readily poised by another full fan of pins by her waist. She was sure Luca heard it too -- or some version of it, judging by the brief interlude in Luca's spirited presentation, but she felt the strong need to remind Luca of that fact by the way Luca was continuing on dribbling out words as if Luca was going to go mute the very second she stopped speaking.

"Luca, there's a --"

But Luca kept going on and on, this time about craftsmen and damage and ... something urgent and horrifying about men (something which Aryia`en was already aware of). Aryia`en almost preferred the annoying script of confusing Tharian to Luca's attempt at interpreting it.

As the outline of a figure closed in, the warrior -- and irritated female elf -- in Aryia`en took over, resulting in quick but firm barks of words that demanded adherence from the listener without question.

“This is bad. Bad bad bad.”

"Luca! Be silent!"

And then she narrowed her eyes at the approaching figure, which was starting to look more and more like a human male. "Who goes there!"

Edited by: Aryia en Evasha at: 6/8/05 2:45

[Brodin Gerdrard]

Having called out to the pair, he beckoned Jake forward. From so far off, it was hard to distinguish if his shout had received a response. Riding closer, he tried to find evidence as to what had caused the huge flash. Feathers were scattered all about the ground in the still settling dust. The whole scene appeared quite strange, but he couldn’t see anything to give him clue as to what had caused the flash. He wondered what price he could fetch if he collected all these feathers up… probably not anything worth while.

Letting the horse slowly make its way forward, Brodin could see that it was indeed two figures. One seemed to be frantically waving its hands around in a panic, while the other stood there. He was going to call out again, when a demanding female voice beat him to it.

"Who goes there!"

Brodin brought Jake to a halt. By the tone of the voice, this person meant serious business; a tone he recognized.  The figures were still a little far off to get a good look. The one who had been in a fit had sat down, and he was sure it was the standing one who had called out. Brodin was never big on giving out his name incase someone recognized it from his failed trading company, that never did well for introductions. So, not being able to even see who he was talking to, he was reluctant to surrender who he was as of yet. “A friendly stranger! Just wanted to see if you were alright!” he hollered back.

[Luca the Thief]

"Luca! Be silent!"

The half-elf opened her mouth and raised a finger, on the brink of starting off on another tangent, but fell obediant as Aryia'en's attention was drawn elsewhere. Standing, Luca looked behind her shoulder and spotted Brodin, vaguely recalling him interupting her earlier.

“A friendly stranger! Just wanted to see if you were alright!”

Luca bit her lip and looked down at the feather. "I don't like him, already," she murmured to Aryia'en, waving the feather in front of the elf's nose. "What if he's a mage in disguise and-- erp...they want to silence me!" Luca threw her arms in the air to make her point, "I knew my genius would catch up to me one day." Luca grabbed the elf by the arm and began pushing her towards the newcomer. "You have to go talk to him! Make him go away."

The half-elf paused a bit and looked Aryia'en over, "You don't have any utilities he could steal, do you?"

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