Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Amarathia City

Some weeks later...

Spring had just begun and it carried with it a refreshing liveliness to the outdoor markets of Amarathia City. Though the farmers markets wouldn't begin to setup shop until later in the seasons, there was all manner of goods to be traded, sold, and bartered away. Foreign supplies had been stockpiled over the winter from the trade routes to Kerador, while local merchants and craftsman had been hard at work through the winter months honing their crafts and stockpiling for spring.

Clothiers, seamstresses, tailors and shoemakers dominated the markets with dazzling displays of fabric and leathers. With the changing of the season came a demand for clothing and fabrics more suited for the warmer months to come.

Also sporting a strong presence in the markets were the floral booths often manned by children, elderly widows, and young women selling hand picked wildflowers to passersby.

Other booths were prevalent as well, ranging from jewel crafters, spice merchants, fur trappers, glass makers, and countless more. The warmer weather meant opportunity to flaunt their goods in the open air.
 
"Seeking glory? Want to aid your countrymen in their time of need, and strike a blow against the void? Eskandor needs heroes!"

The marketplace was no stranger to criers, men and women hired to yell a message to passers-by for hour after hour, but most of the time they were advertising for a local inn, or a slightly out-of-the-way shop. The last few days, the market had been visited by criers hawking not wares, but a job. Volunteers were needed, they proclaimed, to combat the void in a frontier town by the name of Eskandor. There was word of trouble with void creatures and taint, but the military was taking no action.

Along with the criers, posters had been pasted to the walls both in the market and on the walls of taverns throughout the city, giving much the same message. 'Seeking Volunteers! Aid your countrymen in the town of Eskandor in combating the void! Glory awaits!'

Both the posters and the criers had directed those that inquired or took a closer look to visit the Swan's Respite, a nearby inn, at midday today - and to ask after Val Tabris.



The Swan's Respite was far from bustling at this hour of the day, with most of its patrons working or on business. There were a few tables occupied with men and women taking lunch, but the atmosphere was quiet. The inn itself was a cosy, pleasant establishment - it was certainly no dive bar, and the furnishings were of high enough quality that it was clear that bar brawls were far from common. The walls held a few scattered decorative ornaments, and pleasant smells wafted into the taproom from the kitchen beyond.

Val was seated alone at a large round table, with one of his posters laid out upon it as a marker for those seeking him out to recognise. He was human, by appearance; youthful, but far from green. He was clad in light leather armour and a chain shirt worn under a thick green cloak, and both a bow and a sheathed longsword rested on the floor, propped against his chair. A head of thick black hair ran to just above the nape of his neck, slightly curled, and his face was shaven smooth. His eyes, a dark brown, watched the room impassively as he nursed a mug of mead and waited for the first of the volunteers to arrive.
 
Tzaan was not by nature a helpful creature. Never was he moved by someone else's plight, and never would he offer his assistance to someone who he didn't have to. He was however, a very curious creature, and wondered for long lengths of time as to why mortals did what they did. Offering assistance was one of these behaviours and quirks that drew Tzaan in, like a moth to flame. Djinn were more inclined to watch a fight that get involved, even if a being whom they may consider their friend was in great danger, and Tzaan was no exception. However, he didn't understand why humans would help each other, especially when there was nothing in it for them.

So as he moved through to town centre, in the guise of a dog not to dissimilar to a German Shepherd, he paused when he heard the cries. We're these mortals going to help someone? Or were they.... advertising? The posters as well, lining the walls.... the demon wasn't endowed with a gift of tongues as good as others of his species, but he knew enough of the language to get the gist of it: they wanted volunteers for a quest, to kill some swan or other waterfowl.... it didn't exactly seem like what the cries were calling out, but natural arrogance led Tzaan to believe his own interpretation over an obvious misreading. Either way, it was an interesting proposition....

---

After a clearing up of the confusion caused by his lack of reading ability, Tzaan had made it to the inn, this time in a more acceptable guise; one of a human, dressed in leather armour of a sorts, his yellow eyes scanning the room. Apparently, he was to ask for one Valley Tabris.... the empty nature of the inn was far from what the djinn had encountered in other places, but also gave only one obvious candidate, along with the poster one the table.

He crossed the room in a slower manner than the average mortal, his eyes taking in what he saw. Buildings also presented a source of amusement: in his home plane, there were none. He stood above theach one named Val, one hand by his side, the other instinctively at his waist, protecting the cube that sat there.

"Do I have to be a countryman?" he asked, genuinely meaning what he asked.
 
Kian stared around the marketplace with bright amber eyes, a small confident grin adorning his young, effeminate face. His dark hair, tied up in a long ponytail, blew insistently around, much to his embarrassment. Despite this, the short human continued through the marketplace, eagerly conversing with the anyone around, searching for rumors with a single hand absently on the large forging hammer at his hip. As he excitedly spoke with the locals, hunger became evident with a rumble.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Leaving the bakery with a loaf, Kian hungrily continued into the tavern.
"Bartender! I'll have a tankard of ale," he shouted out in a high alto as he took a seat on the bar.
The burly man gruffly replied, already knowing the answer, "How old are ye, lass?"
"16," Kian responded sheepishly with a grin while swinging his feet on the high stool before exclaiming loudly, "I'm a boy though!"
Uncaring, the bartender returned with cider before leaving to tend to other patrons.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hunger sated, his eyes scanned the tables before landing on a Val and Tzaan.
Approaching behind Tzaan, Kian stared up at the taller man, unhesitatingly asking with a bright grin, "Would you guys know where I can find the Vanguard or how I can talk to them?"
 
Val glanced up at Tzaan's approach, raising an eyebrow at the man's question. "If you're asking about the job, then no," the young man gave a small smirk. "I'm sure the townsfolk'll appreciate the help whether you're from around here or freshly spat out of the veil."

Kian's arrival prompted his eyebrow to rise further. "Light's Vigil is on the edge of the Upper Circle," he answered, before flashing a teasing smile. "But if you're looking to join, you'll be lucky not to be told to go home and grow for a few years. Unless, of course, you show up with some impressive deeds under your belt already." At that, he patted the poster on the table with a wink. "If you're out to do some good, kid, you need look no further."

Getting to his feet, he offered a hand to each of them in turn to shake. "Val Tabris, professional void-hunter. And what might I call my first two brave volunteers?"
 
Eyes slightly widening, Kian sputters out, "Kian Riaan, sir," with a slight crack in his voice, "I'm already sixteen though. I don't think I'm going to get any bigger..."
Reaching out with his hand while the other still rested on the utterly massive hammer, at least compared to him, "What is this about anyway," he asked staring at the poster blankly.
"I never got taught how to read," he continued without pausing, "everyone I ask to teach just say that I'd just cause more trouble with my enthusiasm and..."
Quickly, his droning loses nearly all meaning before suddenly halting, leaving Kian blinking in confusion, "Eh?"
 
Amma watched the three beings converse, lips pursed thoughtfully. The cowl of her nondescript, muddy brown cloak was pulled up and over her head, casting her features in shadow. She sat, perched carefully, legs tucked under her, on the slightly worn birch chair. A mug of warm tea sat before her, the steam illuminated by the dim lighting, and a book lay open on the table, the pages worn and faded and covered in markings. She frequented the establishment often; this chair and this table, set by a window in a rather secluded corner of the bar, were as much hers as any of the furniture back in her cottage. Seeming to reach a decision, she shut the book decisively and shoved it into the knapsack that had been leaning against the leg of her chair. She rose and walked, silently but quickly, towards the trio, grabbing the bag as she went, abandoning the half-drank tea.

"I'd like to join," she said. Her voice was quiet, hesitant. She peered out at the three men, again noting the features she had already spent time observing from afar. Her left hand slid into the pocket of her breeches, fingering the different stones tucked in the fabric folds absentmindedly. Her other hand clutched the leather bag tightly, black ink tracing tattoos down each of her fingers and around her palm.
 
Last edited:
Tzaan hesitated around the two newcomers, not being the most socially skilled creature. Too many opportunities for the cube to be stolen, something he couldn't let happen. Giving his name as well..... he knew that some mages could bind people with their names, and he was more at risk to this sort of magic than most. He looked ato the two newcomers with caution, then the urged his attention back their neck Val.

"Tzaan" he said, deciding it be be safe to do so, and then, only because it seemed customary, "djinn"

The demon regarded the proffered hand with curiosity, but didn't shake it, just blinked a few times, evidently inquisitive about the gesture. "What does that mean?" he asked, tilting his head and gesturing to the man's hand "Is it not to bind a deal?"

Mortals were confusing: one gesture, word, or phrase, could have ten different meanings, which only served to irritate and bemuse Tzaan, for whom the idea of a physical body was exotic. Why they even needed these gestures was beyond him, not when they had a complex language capable of conveying their thoughts without the need for the involvement of their hands. Clearly, they had nothing better to do with their time.
 
Val raised an eyebrow at Kian's confession of illiteracy, then offered him a sympathetic smile. "Glad you asked, I'll go over the details with everyone once I'm sure nobody else is coming, but for now - I don't know if you've ever heard of Eskandor? It's a town to the west of the city, overlapping with what the centaur have claimed as their lands. They sent word to the city a few days back that there's been some void trouble in the area, but the crown can't send any troops that way officially without risking antagonising the centaurs. Hence..." he gestured broadly to the group of them. "An opportunity for us to do some good."

Tzaan earned a perplexed look at his question, and Val sighed. "Right. See, when I said 'freshly spat out of the veil', I was actually joking..." he chuckled, shrugging. "But I've worked with stranger folk before. A djinn, eh? You're a long way from Aramaea, my friend." Aramaea - the desert kingdom to the south - was a land that regularly trafficked with the djinni, though it was not unheard of for them to travel farther afield when not bound to a master, as Tzaan clearly wasn't. "This?" he gestured at his hand, "this is just me being friendly, and polite. It's a human thing, don't worry about it."

When Amma approached, Val turned to greet her with another smile, inclining his head. "And you're welcome to. Val Tabris, it's a pleasure," he extended the hand that Tzaan had rejected towards her. "A mage, if those markings are anything to go by?" he queried, curious.
 
Amma stepped forward, removing her hand from her pocket to quickly shake Val's hand. His friendly smile helped to calm her nerves a bit, and she shrugged noncommittally at his question.

"Of a sorts. I'm Amma. Pleasure to meet you." she answered. "So, Eskandor? How many are you thinking of trying to recruit?" She had read about the area briefly, but couldn't place many specifics at the moment. If she had had time she could've gone back to the cottage, done some research, but now she was committed. She began compiling a mental list of possible supplies she might need, charms, herbs, extra clothes, that sort of thing. Although she doubted she'd have time to pick anything up now; the party would probably want to set off at once. She sighed inwardly. What am I getting myself into?

But there it was- that golden line, "An opportunity for us to do some good." This was her chance, what she had been waiting for. She couldn't back down now.
 
"I'm hoping for at least half a dozen," Val answered. "Even if the trouble at the town's not all that bad, I'm sure you know as well as I do that travel's still dangerous once you get out of sight of the city walls. We don't want to be too few. But 'of a sorts', eh? What sort of thing can you do, if you don't mind my asking?" He paused, and turned his attention back to Kian and Tzaan for a moment. "That question goes for the two of you, as well. I won't judge you by your cover," here he gave Kian a pointed glance, "but I'm not going to drag anyone who can't carry their own weight out there with me. For one thing, I don't want anyone's death on my conscience. For another, I want to be able to trust you all to watch my back. So tell me why I should."
 
What sort of thing can you do

Had this mortal never heard of a djinn? While he may not be as powerful as one of his larger brethren, such as the marids of afrits, he was still as force to be reckoned with, far more of a challenge than an imp or similarly weak being. He was confused as to whether he was to demonstrate his abilities, or describe them, but referring to his earlier question: had this mortal never head of a djinn? Clearly he had, stating the region that his kind usually came from in this plane....

"I do not come from your plane" he said "So where I am is irrelevant. Aramaea has no connection to me, nor I to it. As for things I can do, they are varied. Different. I'm relatively good at destructive magics, I imagine you do not want a demonstration. Wishes are out of the question however, I am not that sort of djinn"

He felt compelled to add the last bit, having been asked to often to raise the dead, or mare someone fall in love. Unless there was to be blood involved, Tzaan was useless in these fields.
 
Amma watched as Tzaan, the djinn, listed his abilities. His voice was firm, unyielding, and had the faint hint of a threat underneath it. Before she could have second thoughts about the insufficiency of her own skills, she contributed her own resume.

"Charms, spells, incantations, that sort of thing. I studied under a wizard here in town for quite a while until he passed away. Now I work as an apprentice to the local herbalist. So medicine and the like. My main focus is the study of magic though. I'm a bit of a scholar I suppose, I've done a lot of studying, but I can't say I've much experience actually using the more powerful stuff, although I've devoted my life to learning about it and creating as many charms as I can. But I hope to be able to use the skills I've acquired for good. I'll do my best, if you want me along, that is."

Amma scuffed her boot on the floor, suddenly embarrassed. Who did she think she was? She was a mere novice, what did it matter if she'd read every book on magic she could lay her hands on, if she'd spent hours carving runes into precious amethysts and emeralds and carefully funneling her own energy into the stones that now hung around her neck and rested in her pockets? Had she ever actually cast anything? Ever engaged in magical combat? Her only practice had been with Eldron, but since his death she'd had to practice alone. She suddenly began to doubt the idea of partaking on this quest for a whole new reason. Surely she didn't have enough experience.
 
Last edited:
Kian's face quickly fell slightly, obviously slightly distressed. Scanning his mind for anything he could provide, everything just seemed to be bland. Think think think.. Be creative. Something no one else could do.

Stuttering slightly, "I-I can blacksmith really well! And and-" cutting himself short.

Quickly, he dug through his pack, nearly falling into the pack itself. Tossing out various small weapons and a few common ores, his hands grabbed at the hilt of a small dagger, pulling it out. Silently he stood for a second with his eyes closed, straining himself for a moment, yet that moment had felt like hours drained from himself.

Suddenly crouching low to the ground, the dagger sliced the air, contacting the ground just as his eyes opened. The struck wood had a scar left on it, a darkened wound. As if reacting to the stare of Kian, the darkened wound suddenly cracked through the surrounding floor in a chaotic manner, stopping as the cracks thinned. The rich wood now had cracks running from a single point outwards, filled with the now obviously contrasting spruce, forming a now apparent small blossom. The dagger blade sat atop the hilt, ruined beyond hope of repair. More scrap I guess... Hopping back up, Kian stared at the faces of the three with clear hope of impressing the three, eyes wide and expectant.

Suddenly speaking as if confident, "I can do other things too," I think...

...I think I just broke the floor of an inn.
 
Last edited:
Val nodded along to Tzaan and Amma's explanations of their skills. The djinn certainly seemed confident enough in himself, the girl not so much. He offered her a reassuring smile. "No doubt with all that study you're plenty talented, and someone with knowledge of medicine is worth their weight in gold after a battle. But-"

He cut off, at that point, as Kian performed his demonstration. The man stared bemusedly down at the youth's handiwork for a few moments before laughing good-naturedly. Kian's wide-eyed expectancy was endearing, to say the least, although it didn't exactly fill him with confidence when it came to putting him in harm's way.

"I have to say, that isn't entirely what I was expecting," he said, grinning at the boy. "And, ah... I'm not sure the owner will appreciate the redecoration. I'll ask you what I was about to ask Amma, though: have either of you ever been in a fight, or at least trained for one?"

His expression turned a little more serious. "Chances are we'll be facing creatures out there that won't think twice about tearing your guts out, if you let them. The void doesn't show mercy on the young. I want to be confident you're not going to freeze up when danger rears its head, and that you'll be able to take care of yourselves thereafter. I won't be responsible for leading anyone to their deaths because they weren't ready to see battle." Val glanced across at Tzaan. "I'm confident our djinn friend here can handle himself, but you two..." he looked back at Kian and Amma "...are young. You need to be able to convince me you're not going to be throwing your lives away for a romanticised idea of adventure."
 
Amma nodded. Combat. Something she at least knew her abilities in clearly. "I've spent enough time defending myself in the slums to know a thing or two about how to use this," she replied, unsheathing the short sword hanging at her side halfway, the metal of the blade glinting in the light of the tavern. It was bland, unadorned, but had served her well countless times against bullies and prowlers who lurked in shadows of streets at night. Being orphaned as a child, she'd been defending herself since she was but a small girl. Despite Eldron's almost fatherly demeanor to her, he had never let her stay with him, always insisting that she learn how to handle herself, her weapons, and her charms in the real world. She continued to drill herself at least twice a week, sparring against others at a communal training ground in the city square. Her handiness with the sword was at least good enough to keep her alive this long in some of the least safe regions of town, and she also had a few other blade tricks up her sleeves- literally. Besides her sword she carried an assortment of concealed daggers, up to four on her person at a time, that she was rather adept at throwing.

She straightened her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to display a confidence in her abilities. It's ok to be afraid, as long as you don't let fear make your decisions for you. The saying was something Eldron had repeated to her time and time again as she had grown in her magical abilities.

"Don't worry. I don't freeze, my reflexes are honed, my insights are sharp. In a fight, I'm quick and precise. You can count on me."
 
Kian quickly put his thumbs up with a bright smile, "As long as they're baddies... hopefully they don't look human."
Thinking back to his times of combat, he couldn't think of a time he felt more alive, yet in the end, there was just... so much regret. Maybe it was a death sentence to go to Eskandor. His experiences with fighting certainly were extensive due to his weak and defenseless appearance but he had always been alone, never with anyone else. The one time he had fought alongside another was disastrous to say the least. His new techniques even impressed himself, but that was assuming he could even hit the void. It was all improvised, but that was what caused that fight to end with everyone but him in the local healer's. Maybe there was time to practice along the way. He was going to need some contingency plan to even consider fighting along with them.
Pulling back on his enthusiasm, he asked much more quietly, "How long is the trip to Eskandor? Are there towns between here and there?"
 
The demon looked at the two younglings with interest - relatively young, but already versed in combat, at least to some degree. It did seem like an essential skill here, the other option being to be on the wrong end of a sword. The male was far to..... eager for Tzaan's liking. Well, perhaps not eager... Eager to please? To assuage the fears of the older male? The female seemed to follow a similar, are tack, assuring them of her combat skills and physical readiness. Still, neither of them had asked a fairly important question.

"What exactly is the task?"

He would still take on the challenge if it was some horrific feat, his species not being the sort who even considered breaking promises, deals, or their words. It was always nice to know what you were doing though, to better prepare. True, the djinn prepared little, not needing any items and all his magic being able to be used without any ritualistic means, but it was the principle.
 
Last edited:
Turning to face the djinn, Kian began to hop up in the attempt to even approach his height, failing somewhat miserably while occasionally very nearly slapping his face with his hair. He began to speak with a confident smile,
"Its probably just protecting some helpless villagers or something, what heroes do right? Maybe fight off some void raiders and stuff," gasping slightly at a new thought, "maybe there's some kinda reward... Not that I'd take it-" mumbling while stopping his jumps, "just-...-appreciation-...-once in a while."
Looking away, he quietly tugged at his hair slightly.
 
Amma waited for Val's answer, listening attentively. She was thankful Tzaan had asked the most important question, and was interested to hear the answer. The short one--Kian-- inquired about a reward. She shrugged inwardly. She supposed a reward could be helpful- she could buy some new breeches and a fresh tunic (her current wardrobe was worn and ragged), but her main goal was to find a way to use her skills for good; to prove to herself her existence meant something, that she wasn't meaningless.
 
Back
Top