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Post by Ixchel Rashaine on Jun 3, 2007 21:24:24 GMT
If it wasn't for her optimism, which just refused to die until the very last glimmer of hope was snuffed out, then Ixchel would have been one extremely agitated young woman. She was glad to work, to have the chance to make a difference and turn a potentially bad situation around to something that could benefit her cause, but sometimes, she thought, it was just not worth the effort that it took to find out that it was all for naught.
It wasn't the most high-profile mission, nor was it the most dangerous task - simply a group of bandits who had been terrorizing some of the Hirrens as they left to work their crops and returned home as the sun began to set. It was simple enough, a little song and dance, and they were all hers - as was their little vat of knowledge.
But much to her dismay, the knowledge was nothing new, and with the lovely little exotic accent that she could turn on and off as though it were on tap, it was hard to ask questions in a way they would understand without giving her secret away in the process. As equal as people were, it never stopped people being infinitely dim. Needless to say, the whole fruitless endeavor was cut even shorter than planned when the sight of a passing guard ruffled their feathers enough to force them to flee camp as quickly as possible. At least they were clever enough not to get caught, she had thought - it was probably the only thing they had going for them.
Her bare feet, blackened from miles of endless trekking, were now numb to the road beneath them, and her skin, naturally tinted a little darker than that of others, felt like it was beginning to burn under the heat of the sun. In hindsight, it was foolish of her to throw her lump of spare clothing at the lackey that had attempted to grab her as she left the camp, but at least she had gotten away, and at least she was wearing something - even if that something wasn't a lot, simply two lengths of flowing fabric, weighted about her well-defined hips and her slender neck with necklaces, belts, and trinkets that jingled with every little step and shake. Her sides and outer legs were completely exposed, as were her arms - decorated with bangles and adorned with intricate windings of pale ink from shoulder to wrist, the tattoos her family had passed down for generations.
She was alone, but obvious on the road, with no way to return home, save for her own feet, and no money to her name - her pouch half-filled with coins lost somewhere in the clothes she had discarded to make her break for freedom. A loud sigh escaped her, her chest sinking as it left her lungs. A single hand went to her head, her fingers running themselves through rich, thick locks of dark, almost pitch black hair, careful to pass by the earrings that seemed a little too large for comfort.
"Oh, well..." She mumbled beneath her breath, the jingles of her waist almost completely drowning out the noise. "At least I'm getting some fresh air..." Dark orbs of chocolate slowly wandered about their surroundings, observing the gentle rolling hills that sat either side of the winding road, and the thick tree canopies that stretched towards the foot of the mountains that hovered over in the distance. It was an amazing sight, and Ixchel may have been able to appreciate it more, if not for the heat that was soaking into her skin.
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Post by Artaxerxes Hirren on Jun 4, 2007 9:06:58 GMT
The clatter of horses hooves along the road was the only sound the pirate captain had heard for miles, and it was beginning to give him a headache. The caravan trundling behind with some of his traded goods bounced up and down at every loose cobble, shaking his teeth to pieces.
Thankfully, his own swarthy skin had been burned far too many times at sea, when he could take no shelter, and although the piercing sun had forced him to remove his overcoat, he still did not feel the pain, although his arms were covered by a mutton sleave.
On the endless miles of road, it did not take the captain long to spot an anomoly.A woman, a rather underdressed woman, making her way southwards, the same way as himself. The dark flowing hair and little material was not enough to identify this obvious dancer, not to him at least, but his horse was soon to speed up at a crack of the reins.
It didn't take him long to decrease the distance between them, after all, a pretty young woman shouldn't be wandering the roads on her own. He thought to himself with a smile.
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Post by Lu-Nai on Jun 4, 2007 15:15:54 GMT
The Monk was now enduring his second day of travel. The journey still spanned on for thousands of paces ahead, and he remembered his elders claiming that; "The second day is always the longest"
How it was true...
His feet trundled on, they were already beginning to ache. His bald head was taking the sun in, burning his pale skin.
Such a harsh world, he noted.
Lu began to breach the top of a hill, and he could see now far down the road, yet just over the ridge rested a small wagon of sorts and with a woman talking to the shabby driver.
He feared that stopping would turn his make his legs weak, so he continued towards the duo and the cart.
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Post by Ixchel Rashaine on Jun 4, 2007 15:42:39 GMT
The creaks and cracks that carried themselves across the air from the wagon had sparked her curiosity when she had first heard them - enough to drive her a little further towards the edge of the road as she twisted her head back, a ringed hand pushing thick locks of dark hair away from her eyes just enough for her to catch sight of the humble little caravan that was drawing a closer with every passing second.
A closer inspection told her that there riders had been floating about beside the trail of carriages, and Ixchel, raising her hand with a babble of metal to shield her eyes from the harsh light of the burning sun, was keen to observe the sight for as long as she could - if only to give her bare feet a few minutes of rest before she resumed her trek. It was worth trying to find a way to shorten the trip, and she was quite sure that her skin would not be able to withstand the torture of the sun for much longer.
The caravan was still crawling slowly across the road, but for a few moments, she turned her head back in the direction she had been walking towards, as though her eyes could calculate the number of paces if would take for her to reach home once more. Of course, such a feat was not possible - it was simply a way to pass the time as she waited, a frown of impatience curling at her lips. Dark eyes squinted in the face of the sun beneath her arm, and Ixchel caught sight of another figure - most likely a traveler like herself. Like her, his feet appeared to be bare, but unlike her, he didn't seem in nearly as bad a condition with the rest of his clothing. She felt more than a little embarrassed at the thought of parading about with very little to cover herself up with, but at least there were very few people on the road to glance at her.
However, her attention on the stranger was pulled away by the sound of hoof beats approaching from behind, most likely from the caravan, growing louder and louder the more she attempted to ignore them until she could take no more and relented. The sun was quick to blind her as she turned back, so much so that she had to raise both arms into the air to keep her eyes safe, revealing her equally bare sides as she did so. As the rider drew closer, she could have sworn she had seen his shape before, but she could not be certain in the sunlight. |
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Post by Artaxerxes Hirren on Jun 4, 2007 15:54:36 GMT
The pirate slowed down the horse as not to spray this young woman with dust, he himself was a little dusty but it only took a moment for him to brush it off. Traveling all day took it's toll, even in a wagon like this, with a large rounded canvas covering over it, behind him though. He did not recieve the protection from the sun that it offered. Inside was a rather large amount of Blumberpus from Ulthan, traded for the metal that he had 'aquired' last week.
As the horse drew closer to the woman that was walking, he saw her turn and look at him, barely a few metres away. She was shielding her eyes from the sun, gazing in his direction, but her face showed no recognition yet.
The face of the pirate for a moment was covered in surprise, rather unusual, and a small frown passed over his face before he sorted himself out into a grin. "Well Miss Rashaine, you seem in a rather bad situation." The pirate pulled the horses to a stop and smiled, his dark kohl lined eyes perhaps a little more use with the sun behind his back.
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Post by Lu-Nai on Jun 4, 2007 16:04:51 GMT
The Monks steps were beginning to slow as he continued towards the cart and the woman. Her clothes were in tatters, as if she'd recently been mugged.
In the Monastery, he was warned many times about the spoils of the world, the many corrupt by greed and those wanting power. Was she one of the victims?
He squinted through the sun's glare and tried to identify the man in the cart - he was indeed familiar. As he drew closer, his vision started to get acustomed to the beams in his eyes, and the man was definately someone he'd seen before, and perhaps one of the men from the Meeting yesterday. Elimination told him that the man must have been Hirren.
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Post by Ixchel Rashaine on Jun 4, 2007 16:20:03 GMT
The closer the rider on horse back drew towards her, the more Ixchel was able to see. That there was a trail of other horses following after the figure's lead, for instance, or the fact that the horse that served as the figurehead for the others was of a deep bistre brown, save for a blaze of white that snaked down its nose and flared into a broad streak at its tip. It was quite the handsome beast, she reflected, though it was probably not the fastest steed in the land if it was in such a troupe.
The figure drew closer, and as dark dreadlocks bounded up and down with every hoof beat, her face fell into a look of shock, mixed with just a hint of surprise in a recipe of her own. Sunlight caught upon the metal cuffs that were wrapped into a few of of the knotted locks, sending flashes of bright light into her eyes after every few steps, powerful enough to make her blink to keep it from burning into her eyes. Even with the light working against her, the dark brown orbs that were set into her face were wide, taken aback by the cruel twist of luck. He wasn't going to let her live this down, and she knew it all too well.
"Of all the mercy that I could have been shown..." She muttered beneath her breath, her mind unable to contain the urge to shake her head. Her hands flew to her face with a violent clatter of bracelets to banish the cloud of dust that rose from the ground, and as she took them away, she found herself looking up at a very familiar and sightly unwanted face, the skin darker than it had been made to be, the eyes rounded by a large helping of crudely fashioned cosmetics.
There was a moment of silence as the woman wondered to herself just what she had done to deserve this punishment, but not before she remembered that she was only doing her duty. With that thought held fast in her mind, Ixchel straightened herself up, her shoulders slipping back a little as she squinted intently at the man, one inked arm falling away from her face to cover her side whilst the other remained on duty, keeping the sun from her eyes.
"And I'm sure you're enjoying every moment of it, Artaxerxes." She retorted, her hidden accent bleeding slightly into every word. It seemed as though the tap it ran through had broken.
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Post by Artaxerxes Hirren on Jun 4, 2007 16:35:15 GMT
He leaned back on the seat of the wagon, letting the long reigns that held the horses drop on his leg, they were quite content to stop for a while, this day was rather long and arduous, pulling such a cargo was hard work.
"I didn't know you had such a... varied wardrobe." He looked her over and grinned. She knew for a fact that this was what he had been waiting for, something he couldn't help but grin about.
"You must be getting sun burnt with so much exposed skin." He threw a few dreadlocks out of his face and twiddled with the leather of the reigns. "It's rather a change to your usual outfit." His heavily ringed fingers rested on his knee, drawn up on a plank of wood in front of the main seats on the wagon.
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Post by Lu-Nai on Jun 4, 2007 16:42:49 GMT
Lu-Nai listened to the banter from his standing only a few meters away. To the social world, blatently listening to somebody else conversations was considered rude, if a little creepy.
The words the two exchanged were full of hidden meanings, the sexual tension was cuttable.
Such a hot day. Lu looked away from the two for a moment and glanced up to the mountains behind. From here the monastery was not visable, it blended so well with the cool stone cliffs.
He longed to be back there now, with the cold cutting winds and the icy stone floors.
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Post by Ixchel Rashaine on Jun 4, 2007 17:04:18 GMT
It did not take long for the sheer humiliation of the situation to set into her head - standing before who she supposed she was meant to refer to as her superior wearing nothing more than a few lengths of fabric. It wasn't pleasant to say the least, but Ixchel was able to keep such a fact hidden, as her weight shifted on her feet, that had begun to ache a little more now that she had stopped enough for the pain to settle into her nerves. She wasn't just going to hand him another foothold on a silver platter - he would have enjoyed that all too much.
Abandoning all care she once had for her face, Ixchel sat both hands against her hips, her fingertips disturbing the cloth that they just touched. Her eyes, lined with make-up like her 'superior's' own, squinted in the fierce light ever more than they had done before. Even though she was a pirate as well as a spy, her eyes were still not numb to the sun. She glared at him sternly, unwilling to relent in a moment of disadvantage.
"And I'm sure it's a change that you favour, knowing your taste in women." Her lips curled into a smaller frown, her eyes catching enough of a glimpse to her side for her to see another figure not too far away. She regarded him with a respectful little nod of the head before turning her attention back to the man in control of the caravan. "I wouldn't get too used to it, if I were you. It's going straight back into hiding when I get home."
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Post by Artaxerxes Hirren on Jun 4, 2007 17:12:39 GMT
He was enjoying this too much, it was such a rare occurance to have her in a position like this that he would relish it while he could, although he was pretty sure that she would make him regret it later. "I'm not against a woman showing skin, after all, it's only natural." He smiled darkly before he turned to see whom she had nodded at.
He didn't recognise the figure at first and it took him a while to remember the leader from the monistary. "Well, looks like we have another wanderer." He turned his eyes back to Ixchel, dark chocolate irises looking at her before flicking over in the direction of Hirren.
"Well, can I offer you a lift, or would you rather walk?" He asked her, not giving her enough time to answer before he turned to look at the monk and nodded his head in greeting, calling out loudly. "Hello there mate, didn't expect to see you traveling in this direction. Can I offer you a lift too?" He thought it only p[olite, since he had offended the man so much at the meeting.
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Post by Lu-Nai on Jun 4, 2007 17:20:26 GMT
Lu was still lost in his monastery, but soon realized the question was aimed at him.
"No, thank you, sir. I'm travelling home." He said simply. His eyes began to wander over the oddly dressed woman. He could see no tears in the fabric, and he could only assume that it was a purposeful dress. Odd clothing, it showed off so much flesh.
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Post by Ixchel Rashaine on Jun 4, 2007 17:39:56 GMT
There was very little that stopped the scantily-clad woman from voicing her thoughts, and even when faced with her superior, she was not willing to hold her tongue. However, when the stranger had begun to speak, her want - no, her need - to return verbal fire on the dread locked man was quickly cast aside. After making do with a simple glower fired up onto the sitting form of Artaxerxes, Ixchel turned a little to face the stranger, and for the first time was given the chance to observe him properly. The bare feet and the shaved head indicated some form of discipline had been set onto him, but with little evidence to back up the thought, it meant very little.
Exchanging her weight between her feet in an attempt to dull the pain her heels began to develop, the dark-haired woman smiled, her arms, bathed in tattoos, and even her ears jingling quietly with jewellery whose weight she had quickly adapted to.
"Are you sure?" She queried, again with the added foreign accent. It seemed as though it didn't want to leave her voice just yet. Her head turned back with a flip of her hair as she looked over her shoulder - not a place to call home in sight. She quickly made up her mind to press a little further on the matter. "How far do you have left to go?"
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Post by Artaxerxes Hirren on Jun 4, 2007 17:47:29 GMT
Artaxerxes couldn't help but wonder how far away this man's home was. He knew it was some way, but to be walking all of the way there, that seemed foolish. Even he wouldn't walk to Hirren from here. "Really, I don't know how far is it, but I can give you a ride as far as you are going in this direction."
The two horses pulling the wagon lowered their heads and sniffed at the dry road, one of them looking longingly at the patch of grass not too far away. The third that was roped to the back snorted and scuffled it's hooves, pulling a little more on it's rope and getting to the verge to bite up the dry shoots of grass that grew there.
He noticed the fact that he never got anything in the way of respect from Ixchel, she seemed to forget that he was not only a captain, of the ship she sailed on, but also the leader of the Trusted.
"I am a captain you know..." he murmured, more to himself than her, he knew it would make no difference, it never did.
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Post by Lu-Nai on Jun 4, 2007 18:06:42 GMT
The Monk smiled, he knew that no matter how kind the man was, there was no way he'd be given a ride to the Monastery, besides it was a far cry from Hirren.
"I'm travelling to the Minisu Monastery. It's about 4 days from here, at a run." He replied and rested on the tapered staff. He wondered if they even knew the Monastery, it was widely ignored and people were even discouraged to believe in it's existance.
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