RP:Golden Scare

From HollowWiki

This is a Healer's Guild RP.


Summary: Thamalys, while taking care (within his very peculiar methodologies) of a rather drunk Larketian soldier, stumbles into a most frightened Fermin, the latter desperately trying to escape some Guards. The Avian tries to question said creature whilst holding back the fuming chasers, but The Little One, exhausted and scared, passes out in his hands. Healing duties first, the Blue thus take the Fermin to the House of Ara - much to the outrage of the Guards - where he tries to calm her down, with mixed results. In the end, Twitch The Little One walks away, if not entirely reassured, definitely richer, leaving a rather pensive Spellblade behind.

Larket: Lucy's Crossing

Twitch had just managed to not get totally murdered in an alleyway thanks to the help of a stranger, and four sleep-poison bolts. She still had a big cut above her left eye, and had sealed it with now dry mud to keep it from bleeding into her eye. Thanks to her outrageous immune system, she didn't really have to worry about catching an infection, fortunately, and it barely swelled at all. Still, she had a concussion, which was proving far more difficult to shake. She was trying to find her way home, and was having trouble figuring out where she was. It was after more than a few screams and the pounding of feet on the stone pathways when she realized she had erred... she wasn't wearing her cloak, people had seen her, and now the guards were chasing. She'd be in trouble if they caught her... sure, she could break out of jail easily, but there was a good chance they had orders to kill fermin on sight, these days. She found herself running at full tilt towards the shadowed alleys, looking for a way to lose them, as more and more people stopped what they were doing to watch her flee.

Thamalys emerged from the rather dark shades engulfing the winding Larketian streets, ambling slowly toward the Crossing. Too slowly, in fact, most likely because of the fact that he was dragging what seemed to be a semi-conscious soldier. Squarely enough, the ankle of the latter was seized into the flawless grip of the Avian, whom simply limited to pace himself on the cobbles, his deep blue gaze fixed on something far beyond the City. A long sigh followed - interrupted swiftly enough, though, by the appearance of something utterly small and yet exceedingly fast, some lump of meat and clothes dashing through the Crossing, as if running away from something. “You!” simply bellowed the Spellblade, letting go of the soldier (who gracelessly fell onto the sodding ground with the loudest of the thuds) and hinting two steps toward that moving shard. So fast, he didn’t even had the chance to identify their shapes properly. On the other hand, missing out the Winged Beast was hard enough. Fully clad in silvery pieces of clothing and armour, not much of his tattooed skin escaped that shiny embrace. A most untidy mass of ivory-white dreadlocks, waist-long, poured on his back and across his face, bony and ugly as only that of a battered Avian could be. Right where those immense wings - now neatly folded - originated, the ominous shape of the Gossamer Halberd rested, masterfully laced. Whatever that thing was, it was already about to disappear into the shadows… “Not on my watch…” growled the Avian, diving into a furious run toward that blurred vision who dared to perturbed the quiet of the Crossing.

Twitch was being pursued by more and more, and squeaked her terror. Her concussion made running away impossible, in spite of her insane speed. She bumped into things, tripped over things, and eventually, wound up forgetting her way and getting herself cornered. The guardsmen knew these streets too, after all... but she wasn't the only one with problems, now. There was a battle mage and several soldiers turning on the avian, who'd been dragging... -dragging- a soldier through the streets. "Halt!" They yelled, and turned their weapons on him, pursuing him with sword, spell and bolt as he chased Twitch in turn. She found herself with five fully armored and armed guards bearing down on her with their weapons... swords and polearms and crossbows, not clubs and rusty blades... and she didn't have a friend to save her, this time.

Thamalys muttered something not entirely meaningful, and yet the tone had to be on the verge of being defined irritated. The usual, silly display of Larket’s military power deemed necessary to put on a show once more, however he did not have time for that - as curious he was, so curious about the tiny thing who then managed to basically trap themselves. || One thing at the time… || chirped the Ageless Black, fat and full of irony comments in whatever instance as usual. Amazingly enough, though, that silent rebuke worked his way through the Blue’s mind, as the Spellblade unfolded the whole extent of his silver-clad wings. Blessed by Artia’s magic, those shiny curtains enveloped Avian and vermin alike, now that the former eventually had reached the latter, only a couple of steps dividing the two. “Ah, I see…” sighed loudly the Healer, now that close enough he was to identify the vermin for what she was. “What have you done to these maggots to pull so many of them out of their sodding tents? Or is it nothing indeed - again - and these idiots are just having fun with you? Quickly, if you’d be so kind…” inquired the Avian, while the first arrows hit his wings. With very little effects, though, the same sparkles lifting up the dusky air when a massive magic bolt connected with the very rim of his right wing. Something cruel, something similar to a smile curled those grey, broken lips. “Not that I am particularly enjoying this, I must admit… and I warn you, I do not intend to hold them off forever…” he concluded, his head briefly turning beyond this silvery curtains to assess the size of what was by then a throng of soldiers and mages charging toward them.

Twitch was terrified. When Thamalys put on the terrifying display of power, the situation turned into a straight traumatic event in her life. She was consumed with terror, watching those broad wings take bolts of magic, arrows, and that ghastly smile on his visage. She didn't hear his words through the pounding of her heart in her ears... only saw his cruel smile, felt the natural fear a mouse feels before a bird of prey. She didn't squeak, as she usually did... she screamed. She screamed until she couldn't hear anything else, she screamed and screamed... and curled up in a ball, holding herself in the fetal position. It was just too much for her to handle, all that violence, all of that malice, that killing intent directed towards her.

Thamalys, in what could only be described as a perfect demonstration of Avian poise, simply frowned, one eyebrow only - the right one, since you ask… - lifting in a mild sentiment of surprise. “Either she did not do anything at all, or she is a bloody genius… ah, sod it…” loudly exhaled the Avian, while his right hand would have tried to seize the neck of the Fermin, in one smooth gesture enveloping the whole of her in a spiky embrace of cold mithril and ragged dreadlocks. Were that gestures to be successful, the Blue would have then turned toward the charging mob, wings still unfurled, his left hand raising into the murky air against them. “Gentlemen, this appears to be a profound misunderstanding. This creature is mine to deal with, in fact. Deepest apologies for not providing some more extensive explanation, but it turns out time is against us. Tell the Lord Commander Mythayus that Thamalys the Blue apologise - once more - for the trouble. Any further remarks…” he commented, at the same time running madly toward them, his wings bending into a sweeping motion displacing so much air to shove the whole of them off the way, “… could be presented to the House of Ara. Till then…” he concluded, lifting the whole of him - and her, if she would have permitted the whole of that display at all, that is - in to the air, in a matter of instants clearing the rooftops of Larket and soaring into the sky. Annoyingly enough, he could feel something nastily stuck into his flesh, right below his right knee… an arrow, most likely. “Damn these Larketians…” muttered in a whisper the Healer, in his right still probably holding the tiny mass of the Fermin.

Twitch was lucky she was so slight, so light weighted. When he grabbed her by the throat and took off, she would suffocated otherwise. Being held by the throat only intensified her panic of course, but she was past the stage of resistance. She hung limply in his grip, tears leaking from her eyes as she was carried off to whatever fate had in store for her. All her brothers and sisters... she apologized to all of them, naming them in her mind. She wouldn't be home, tonight. Or ever again, most likely. And without her... they would all die. Slow, and terrible. She opened her uninjured eye just enough to look at the sky, before she faded from consciousness.

Thamalys felt the small body in his hand go numb first, and motionless soon after. Slightly worried, it turned mid-air, in order to take a proper look at her. “Still breathing…” he noted, twisting his massive wings once more only to realise it was time to land already, the familiar shapes of The House of Ara emerging from the leafy Riverbank. A matter of an instant, and the Winged Beast plunged into a dive, only a few meters from the ground swooping those wings so as to waste as much momentum as possible. Heels first, he connected with the soil, in a few steps only entering the House.

Larket: House of Ara; Rebuilt

|| Mei || The by then rather seasoned receptionist barely flinched when witnessing the entrance of the Blue, this time carrying a rather battered Fermin in one hand. She just rolled her eyes, head shaking slowly. “That one, I swear…”

Twitch remained unconscious, and might for some time... she'd taken quite a severe shock, while still recovering from a hefty concussion.

Thamalys covered the distance separating him from his room - or laboratory, the exact definition would heavily depends on personal taste - in a matter of some long, slow strides only. The familiar smell, that unique blends of herbs, chemicals, and some more shadowy things as well, welcomed him back - well, that and a rather annoyed Nebb. The moment Avian and Fermin entered the room, the massive Red Kite surged from his perch, immediately dashing toward the shoulder of the Blue, pecking it relentlessly till he realised something, somebody possibly even more interesting of his master’s shoulder just entered the space. “Not a chance, am I clear? That’s - not - food…” simply stated the Healer, with one movement only clearing quite a space upon his own mattress, and soon after depositing the passed out little creature upon it. The room was quite warm - no need for blankets or such. Then, the Blue glanced once more toward the rather immobile creature, before piling up the whole of this clothing in a tidy mess close by, his Healer’s garments favouring instead. On the black robe went, embroidered with silvery stars and flames. Moments after, and the Avian would have picked already a tiny vial, a viscous, greenish liquid swaying within it. With the greatest care, he poured one single droplet of the latter onto the Fermin’s lips. More than enough, as that particular potion was made for Avians and Dragons, that single drop would have been enough to resuscitate Twitch from death herself - almost, almost. Nebb, perched right at the side of her head, looked quizzically at the sleeping creature, the huge bird of prey having been possibly the very first thing Twitch could have witnessed upon his awakening.

Twitch felt her health returning. Her mind cleared, as though a fog had lifted, so noticeable and immediate that even in her sleep, she felt it. Her eyelids flickered, then opened. The first thing she saw was a large bird of prey... and she squeaked and rolled over, right off the bed and onto the floor. She scrambled about desperately, looking for some escape, then spied Thamalys, and tried to distance herself from him as well. Her heart was pounding in her little chest, and couldn't find any immediate means of escape... not one she thought she could outrace him towards, and past... if she could just buy some time, then as soon as his eyes weren't on her any longer... "P-p-please don't eat m-m-me!”

Thamalys took a step back, at the very same time shoving the fluttering shapes of Nebb away. “Be quiet, would you?” shouted the Blue, not entirely sure to whom, though, as the Fermin seemed still quite upset. “Eat you!” murmured the Avian in the flattest tone he could manage, his dreadlocks swaying in outrage. “Why on Lythridel would anybody - eat - you… in here? Easy, Little One… breathe, now…” softly voiced the Healer, not moving by an inch, so as to let the small creature some space - it looked like she definitely need some. “Nobody is going to hurt you. Quite the opposite, in fact. This is the House of Ara - it’s the home of us Healers. Yes, some of us can very much wound as well…” he conceded, possibly recalling that till some minutes ago that poor creature witnessed quite a serious skirmish in the streets. “But even I, in here, I am bound to help, and wound no more. See? Nothing is going to happen to you. Not anytime soon, anyway…” he went while focusing once more on the massive wooden bench where a mighty mess of vials, bottles, and powders laid in a perfect chaos. “Would you trust me with this one? It will sooth you, and make your mind clearer… you seem quite confused. Did any of those soldiers get you well before we met? Ah, you don’t have to answer me… here, just a sip…” offered while outstretching an hand where a a sizeable bottle of tinted glass rested. Inside, a mixture of calendula, Avian wine and… well, dragon scales. “So. Do you have a name? Mine is Thamalys, Little One…”

Twitch looked at the proffered glass inquisitively. He might be trying to poison her... but like most fermin, she was very, very difficult to poison. She didn't even have to worry about applying paralytics to her bolts... they just made her fingers numb, at worst. Her resistance might be even greater than most... she took the glass, carefully. "H-h-healer? But... no one h-h-heals a fermin..." Not in her experience. She'd watched so many die, without anything resembling medical care to turn to, magical or mundane. Certainly, no one above the surface of the sewers would ever care to help, and below the city, it was hardly any better. Hers were a vicious people for the most part, but her small community stayed away from them. Unfortunately, that small community had very few resources, no sources of trade, and no skilled tradesman of any sort... except a handful of thieves, among which she was foremost. She was responsible for feeding many mouths. "I-i-if you're n-n-not gonna kill m-m-me, can I go? Yes? Maybe? Yes yes yes?" She sounded quite hopeful. The sooner she could get back home, the sooner she could get back to work, and make sure everyone was alright. She held the glass, not drinking yet.

Thamalys tilted is massive cranium by just an handful of degrees to the right. “I do not care what you are. To me, there are Avians. And there those who are not. Elves, Dragons, Fermins - it matters not to me. But I do find the Larketians soldiers quite… irritating, shall we say - especially when they are trying to mug such a little thing in numbers. Unless of course… they had a reason for that. Did they?” asked the Blue in a tone so difficult to label. There was no anger, but neither curiosity, certainly not any sort of empathy. A question that was simply a question, but the deep blue eyes of the Spellblade were squarely nailed upon her - there was no escape from those. Close by, Nebb deemed the moment worth of a proper squawk, loud as the highest peaks of Xalious. “Just answer me once, Little One, and be truthful about it - I would know otherwise. If those idiots had no reason to chase you, you can surely go at once….”

Twitch trembled under his gaze. "I was j-j-just trying to find my w-w-way home... but I s-s-steal everyday. I h-h-have to, if I w-w-want to live. If I w-w-want -them- to l-l-live. So, they h-h-have a reason to ch-ch-chase me. But... I d-d-don't wanna die. I d-d-don't wanna die..." She curled back up, eyes on that predatory bird. It was as fearsome as the avian man in her eyes. At least she could talk to the avian... that bird, less so. She didn't like it her. Her grip was white-knuckles on the glass she held, and she wanted to go home.

Thamalys was a tough one when it boiled down to feelings. “I see - I need to hear no more, Little One. Wretched creatures, those who forced you to this existence. I have little power on them…” confessed the Blue, right before the Ageless Black silently rebuked him as he deserved. || Or, you do not really care. After all, that is not your battle, is it not, Silly? || chuckled the Dragon within the torn mind of the Avian. The latter shook his head, as if trying to clearing his thoughts. Eventually, he rose from his seat, once more returning to his beloved bench, but this time rummaging through bags and heftier things, till he managed to produce a sizeable pouch, a metallic sound coming clear and round from it. “Everyone has to die - even those idiots who call themselves Immortals…” noted with a sudden violence in his voice, his hand clenching said pouch while some streaks of gold emerged within the otherwise flawless blue of his eyes. “But you won’t day today. Go home, Little One. I cannot bring you down in those tunnels - it will be the end of me. Here, take it…” he went, putting the satchel in the Fermin’s hands, whether or not she was done with her drink. “Whoever - they - are, they would eat for a while, with this. Or. You could realise that those sodding tunnels are not the only option. For one thing, the House of Ara remembers - speak my name and Nebb’s at whoever you encounter within, and you shall be safe for a while, within this walls, whenever it may be. Farewell, Little One…” he concluded, and without glancing back, not even once, he returned to his precious vials, the feathery forms of Nebb perched upon his shoulder - there was an arrow in his leg still, to be taken care of after all...

Twitch blinked at the pouch, at the man, and at his vials. Nebb seemed to be staying where it was, on his shoulder. She said nothing, but glanced back on her way out, in wonder. She shuffled out the door, pouch in hand, an empty glass where she'd been... proof that she'd shown some trust in the strange, terrifying being.