RP:Misleading Maps & Major Misunderstandings
Summary: The young drow Seriis' first trip to the surface ends with him getting lost on the very first day, wandering the barren landscape of Milous and venting his frustration to the open sky. (Un)luckily, he does come across some individuals that may help him...or completely misinterpret his actions (which is probably no wonder).
Hills, like massive cairns rise up around you, evidence of the disasters hat took place some time ago. The soil that coats the surfaces is thin and rocky, nearly impossible to farm. Bits of dirt are tossed about in the wind, proof that some are foolish enough or poor enough to farm a wasteland. A shadow sweeps over you, large and menacing, and you glance up in time to see a dragon of unknown color by toward the horizon, a vaguely humanoid form in its mouth. To the west, the hills vanish into a narrowing ledge, while to the east the ravine itself changes directions. Directly to the south the ground starts to even out, rising only occasionally in steep, jutting knolls that stand out like sore thumbs.
Seriis is terribly, hopelessly lost. Even with the aid of the large and detailed map (it was very expensive!) spread out between the span of his extended arms, the young drow appears to have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the line and now finds himself wandering the barren hillside. He traces the ridge of a hill, struggling to keep the map from blowing into his face for long enough to get a good look at its details, unable to figure out where he is or how exactly he got here - or even how he'll find his intended destination from this point. Already he's damning this accursed surface, spitting out colourful curses in the euphonious tones of his native language that the wind rips away greedily. This is Seriis' first expedition out of the Underdark and he'll be damned if he's forced to return to his House empty-handed! With the sun shining hotly overhead, the drow eventually stuffs the map away in frustration, and tugs the hood of his piwafwi back into place before it can slip off his head and allow the light to assault his eyes. Grumpy and tired, the little scholar stands atop his hill, near the small column of leather cases filled with provisions for the journey and more personal effects, and waits for his companions to return from scouting out the area. He hopes they'll have found something of use, like a road or something.
Kiota padded along on all fours in a very unlady-like fashion. Luckily, she wasn't dressed like one or else she might have drawn some unwanted attention. Really, though, she lacked all measures of refinement. Her clothes were patched in many places, her trousers frayed at the ends. On her head perched an equally ratty looking pointy wizard hat, which fit her quite poorly. The only nice thing on her was the pair of spectacles on her furry face. She was, as loathe as she was to admit, looking for food right now. No longer a thief, which explained her poor refinement, and now a (only in her head) mighty wizard, stealing for food was beneath her. Lacking skills otherwise, she was looking for berries or roots to eat. This sort of thing she was used to, having done it far too many times to care to remember. Instincts were taking over, in that she kept away from the open, instead using her small frame to move under bushes. The hat was making this quite difficult, so she was forced to frequently stop and fix it lest it be knocked off her head. No notice of the drow is made, yet, as she was too busy picking blackberries.
The world is big. Bigger than he'd ever imagined it to be. Tracing out marks on maps, feeling coastlines and wondering what the crash of waves against their faces might sound like, and placing his fingers over mountaintops-- none of it ever gave Seriis the understanding of just how vast this surface world is. And yet...as he stares out over this broken wasteland populated by rolling hills, tearing winds, and barren dirt, he sees no beauty in this place. Why people would suffer through living in such a horrid land is beyond is comprehension, and he can find no hint of the magnificent stories and legends he's spent years copying out and immersing himself within, down in the dark corners of House Al'Reim. There is nothing here. He must be so very, very lost. Clenching his fists tight, Seriis grits his teeth. His anger builds rapidly in his chest like a plume of smoke, until it must be expelled and finally explodes in some violent eruption of fury; and he screams, yelling into the wind for a long time, venting his rage into the lonely expanse he has found himself stranded in. It's rather similar to a child's tantrum, but there's no one around to kill so it's the only option he has right now. So caught up is he in his incoherent shouting that Seriis does not notice movement somewhere behind him and further down the hill, where Kiota is plucking berries from the branches of coarse shrubs.
Kiota has the ever loving bejesus scared right out of her. A delectable berry had been plucked and was about to be popped into her mouth, her paws sticky with juice and her ragged shirt stained with the same. Down goes the berry as she stumbles back at the primal yell. She trips right over a root and spills over, going ass over tea kettle as her hat and spectacles go flying as well. Right out of the bush she'd gone, though luckily it was on the opposite side of Seriis. A low moan of, "No, no, no..." as she struggles to find the things she'd lost. A near sighted fermin might have been laughable, but her glasses were very important to her. Nearly as important as her badge of wizardry. Right now, she just wanted to run, mighty (questionable) wizard status be damned. She just wasn't that brave when it came down to it, not yet.
Seriis' voice has just begun to crack due to strain when his sensitive ears catch the dry rustle of foliage from over his shoulder. The terrible sound coming from his throat cuts off instantly as the drow's head snaps round, a hand flying to his belt in the same instant. With the uncanny speed of a striking snake he whips out a knife and sends the blade sailing through the air for where Kiota lies sprawled on the ground, half-obscured by the bushes. Only afterward does Seriis think to call out sharply, "Who is there?" Human or beast, sentient of mind or no - he does not really care what it might be if his priorities are anything to go by, but he asks all the same. Somehow the common words he spoke sound a little off, like he's not quite used to the barbaric language yet. Seriis casts only a brief glance to his possessions before he stalks away from them and down the hill, intent on discovering what this creature is, and on whether or not his knife has hit its mark. He hopes it did.
Kiota stifles a gasp when a knife buries itself way too close to her in the bushes. Things suddenly got dangerous. She wasn't equipped for this! Even when living on the streets she avoided conflict. Some people were tough, some people hide, and others ran. She was one of the ones that ran. It was part of the whole appeal of getting power via magic and the such. Then maybe she could be brave. She had found her glasses and crams them on, scrabbling away from the buried knife. There was no fighting the crazy person out there. There was just nothing she could do. She wasn't gonna even say anything. Maybe he would go away? But no, he was stalking towards the bushes. It was time to run, like she always did. But where was her hat? Her badge of office? Precious seconds stolen before she found it hanging on some branches. Paws reach out and grab it, yanking it off and cramming it firmly down over her rounded ears. She doesn't even wait to see what Seriis was doing. Darting out on all four paws, she goes into the underbrush. Her three foot tall frame was more suited to traversing through them then Seriis would. He'd have a hard time following. Within minutes, she would be gone, mostly so she could go find a place to get a good cry all to herself.
Your stomach plunges sickeningly quick as you stare down into the seemingly bottomless pit before you. Thin tendrils of smoke lazily drift skyward from the massive chasm, and earthquakes and other signs of volcanic activity are quite common. The narrow strip of stony ground that is the continuation of the Milous Road is a web of cracks leading east, where the beginnings of a bridge over the endless gorge can be seen. a small paths trails northward, while south, the steep ledge you are standing on continues. There seems to be a lot of activity going on to the east as the finishing touches are placed on the new bridge. Built on a spur of land that swells gently into the gorge is a fortress, raised to tower above the nearby road. Flying above this fort is a massive rectangular banner, a field of blood red trimmed with gold, on which a golden bear stands rampant.
Krice tilted his chin and lifted his gaze to Merrien's face as she spoke, slowly coming out of the shell of... whatever-the-hell-his-problem-is in order to listen. Truly listen. With his right eye narrowed slightly - but noticeably - in contemplation, the warrior broke his silence to answer Merrien. " You've only annoyed me once." A beat. " You annoyed me by involving yourself with the vampire. He was talking to me, threatening me, and now you're in danger because of your impulse problem." Despite the harshness of his words, spoken in truth to the best of his ability, he didn't seem to hold the grudge of that 'one annoyance' over Merrien's head. Smoothly, he went on to quickly add: " It has no bearing on our friendship whatsoever, apart from the fact that it started our friendship. You're not annoying me now, and as long as you don't recklessly put yourself more at risk, you won't annoy me again."
Kiota bursts onto the scene, running for what seems to be her life. She was moving like hell itself was on the tip of her tail, moving on all fours and creating a crashing of bushes as she moves through. Her patched up hat was all askew and in danger of falling right off her head, her glasses were fogged with the effort of her running, and she had twigs and everything through her lovely coat of black fur. But boy, could she move fast. On all fours, she really covered ground quickly, especially when she hit open ground. Almost too late did she see the gorge before her, the panic that caused her flight nearly taking over. Skidding to a halt and sending some pebbles flying over the edge, she moans to herself as she pants, "No, no, no..." A glance over her shoulder, checking to see if that drow who'd tried to kill her was following or not. And then she was moving along the edge of the gorge, trying to put more distance in between.
Merrien gives Krice a small, thoughtful smile and is about to reply when she sees a small woman who was looking like she was running from the very hounds of hell. What in the...?
Seriis has since retrieved the first dagger he threw and is hot on Kiota's heels - in his mind at least. In reality, the young drow is still a good fifty yards behind his apparent prey, as he seems to be having trouble with the terrain. His cloak is constantly getting tangled in grasping branches of shrubbery which occasionally pull him to an awkward standstill, until he viciously cuts himself free again. Racing across the landscape, he pays little attention to the more humanoid pair, focused with furious intensity on catching up to the fleeing fermin and closing the distance between them. Whatever Kiota did or did not do, Seriis clearly does not want her to get away from whatever fate she might be meeting at his hands. Considering the knife clutched tightly in his grasp, its blade glinting in the light, it will not bode well for the rat if she is caught...
Krice's head snapped to the left and he shot a sharp look over his left shoulder, his attention drawn to Kiota by her scrambling attempts to get away from...something. Without a second thought, the warrior abandoned Merrien to the safety of her present location and ran back the way they had come. Whether or not he saw Seriis before bursting into action remained to be seen, but a blink later, the warrior had covered several metres of ground in a blurred sprint that put him between the two newcomers, with Kiota behind him. Surely that was too fast for any human to move? But he -looked- human... Wasn't he? A short gust of wind swirled around him as a result of his speed, tussling silver strands of hair and flapping the collar of his shirt upward, flanking his throat. He did not yet reach for the katana sheathed against his back, opting instead for a diplomatic stance first. He thrust his left hand outward, palm vertical in a 'stop' motion, and fixed his gold-freckled red eyes staunchly on Seriis' face. "Stand down." If Seriis either did not hear, or if he decided to go on with the onslaught anyway, the warrior would then twitch his left hand outward, attempting to slap the inside of Seriis' wielding wrist before thrusting his right elbow upward, in toward the drow's face. Just enough violence to get him to stop. He had no idea what the situation was, but it was clear to him who the aggressor was and, for now, he stood on the side of the apparent victim.
Kiota wasn't looking at her would be savior. Right now, a jump down that cliff was looking like a valid option. Her body was probably able to make the leap. She'd done bigger. Hadn't she? Anything was better then being stabbed by that insane drow. The tussle between Krice and Seriis was good, at least to her. Someone else can stick their neck out. She just wanted to keep herself intact. The poor girl was on the verge of breaking down and crying, though. Now that she wasn't running so ungodly fast, a good look of her might be caught. Twigs and branches were all through her coat, and new tears in her already poorly kept together clothing were apparent. Her fur was a rich black, or would have been were it not so messy. She was a young thing, and those versed in fermin culture would likely be able to guess her age to be somewhere in the late teens. And, to clinch it, she was about terrified out of her mind. She darts towards Merrien, trying to find more things to stick in between herself and the homicidal drow.
Merrien sees Krice step in front of the rampaging Drow and Merrien's alarm sirens go off in her head. He could handle himself, it's true, but he also was in the path of a drow, who Merrien's father had always warned her were particularly nasty creatures, particularly to those of Merrien's race...The girl wishes she had her fiddle...a sudden thought came to her. She had a sword! The bard knew that Krice didn't want her risking herself, so she stays back, but draws her sword and takes a single step towards the drow. "Aye stand back!" How was he to know she'd only had one swordplay lesson?
Seriis suddenly finds his path blocked by a stranger. He blinks, having not expected to be interrupted out here, his hood torn back by the wind at the same time; and in that moment it is made very clear that Kiota's aggressor is a pureblooded drow, though seemingly a rather young one. He has the look of a teenager about him, but then, elves and their kin have always been blessed with the gift of aging well. Perhaps to some surprise, Seriis appears to heed Krice's warning for he comes to a skidding stop before the man, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him. He does not, however, return his knife to its sheathe. With narrowed eyes he watches the warrior warily, as if considering outright attacking him, too, before he speaks. His words are short and clipped, hissed out in harsh breaths; "I just. Want. To ask. Question." He hops back a step when Krice twitches as if to fight him off, brow furrowing. "Or maybe I ask you! Or you! I don't care!" A gloved finger jabs in the sword-wielding Merrien's direction and Seriis glares between the pair. "Just tell me where is this!" Apparently the diminutive drow does not speak the common tongue as fluently as he would like, and he seems to be getting frustrated by the sound of his own awkward voice - or maybe just the situation he's found himself in. Sharpened by anger, the words are as close as Seriis will get to admitting he is completely lost out here. Maybe his intentions weren't all bad, but he certainly went about things the wrong way. He is drow, after all, so that's probably no wonder.
Krice himself was definitely no more than thirty years old, but the exact age wasn't clear. He looked youthful and strong, but seasoned and mature. The warrior was aware of Merrien's input, as told by the subtle flick of his eyes to his left--back where the woman was--but he didn't engage her. Seriis' behaviour ensured that Krice did not need to resort to violence to protect little Kiota. He lowered his hands, kept them at his sides, and although he stood relaxed and comfortable in his own body, and in the situation, he harboured a small measure of tension that hinted at preparedness. As Kiota ran toward Merrien, the warrior shot the little fermin a speculative look, inadvertently directing Seriis' words into his right ear. A turn of the head ensured that his gold-freckled crimson eyes were once more upon the red eyes of the dark-skinned fellow before him. Krice was calm, with an edge of aggression belying the outer facade. "You're in Hollow," he said, thereafter lifting a finger to point in Kiota's direction. His gaze fixed on Seriis, he asked, "What the hell did you do to her? She's terrified."
Kiota slows to a halt, seeing that she wasn't in grave, mortal danger at the moment. She takes a second to fix her wizardly hat, seeking to right it back on her head. With it all askew as it was, one of her ears was all that kept it from being lost. Once righted, both of her rounded ears poked through, though they were near flat to her skull to provide for a more streamlined form during her run. Berry juice, blackberry juice to be precise, was all over her forepaws, mixed with dirt and bits of bush. She takes a bit of a step back, standing up straight in a bipedal stance. Her hands wring together a little, and she says, not at all very assertive, "I'm...I'm not scared...I'm a mighty wizard..." Her absolute lack of conviction made it about as convincing as you'd expect.
Merrien puts down her blade, but does not sheathe it at the assertion that the man is merely lost in this land. The bard had been there herself not too long ago. She merely nods to confirm what Krice had said, "Yes, this land is called Hollow. Where do you hail from?" she asks, also keeping an eye on the skitting Fermin.
Seriis scowls at both Krice and Merrien, utterly affronted by their assumptions that he does not even know the name of the world as a whole. He is a scholar! An archivist! A generally well-learned, intelligent, and amazingly clear-minded boy for one of his race, if one not at all familiar with the surface as anything more than sketches and maps. "I know that, fools. I mean here, this place." The drow makes a vague gesture to the empty landscape then pauses, and after a beat mutters under his breath, "It's...the wrong place." He is supposed to be somewhere else, but he clearly lost his way at some point on this expedition and has ended up stranded out here instead. Exhaling a strained breath as though expelling some inner steam in attempt to calm himself, Seriis then explains huffily, "This is first trip out of Trist'Oth and Avarn and Reyik are still looking for road. Idiots. I did nothing to her, also!" The pointing finger turns to Kiota when Krice accuses him of frightening the fermin (which he did). "She startled me," he states simply (and she did that, if inadvertantly).
Krice's lips twitched subtly as he considered the drow standing before him. After a brief glance Merrien's way for her input, the stoic warrior once again addressed Seriis. "Kelay. Cenril. Somewhere in-between. Pick one." He lifted his left hand to point at Kiota a second time, though his gaze was fixed on the face of the drow in front of him. "Don't scare her again."
Kiota fixes her glasses. Really, they made her quite comely. (or so she really loved to think). Feeling just a tiny bit braver, alllll the way out of Seriis' reach, she balls her paws, "Hey! You were the one screaming! I didn't do nothing!" Her whiskers twitch with mild aggravation. Then, she realizes she was close to people she didn't really know. Specifically, Merrien. Suddenly she got a whole lot meeker as her gumption ran right out, "Uh. I mean. I'm sorry."
Merrien shakes her head towards Kiota with a light smile, "No harm done miss." she says cordially. At Seriis she scowls, "Oi, we were just trying to help. No need to be rude. So yes, you are at the gorge. Taking this bridge to the East will take you to Cenril and to the West will take you to Kelay and Xalious further West."
Seriis twitches a bit and glowers over at Kiota. "Frustration! I expect dragons and treasures and I get empty land - I'm tired!" To be honest he sounds just a little bit petulant, complaining childishly like this. It's maybe his age showing. "And by the way, if you are a mighty wizard, I am a cow. Hah!" An unfriendly smirk flashes across his lips for a brief moment before he turns to look back at Krice, though the drow does at least spare a second to stow his blade before he throws up his arms in exasperation. "An accident!" Mostly. "Startle drow and you get cut. Or killed. Be lucky." He probably means the fermin should consider herself lucky she escaped with her life, but his awkward grasp of common does not quite allow him to say that so easily. Merrien's comment does not earn her an apology for his rudeness but Seriis acknowledges her attempt to help more than he does Krice's. "That will do." It's almost a 'thank you'. "Now, tell me where I can find the big, ah..." Oh, he knows this word, he does! He spends so much time in them that he committed the word to memory. It's right there, on the tip of his tongue, yet apparently clinging so tightly he cannot quite speak it. After a short pause in which Seriis' young features darken with a distinct frown, he manages to get it out. "A library! You know? Tell me where I can find a big library."
Krice thought nothing of Seriis' words, and therefore did not assume that his 'be lucky' was a warning of 'gratefulness' meant for him. The warrior released a sigh and turned away from Seriis then, venturing toward Merrien - and inadvertently, Kiota - with his eyes closed, a slight snarl on his mouth, and silence for the drow. Merrien will be left to answer Seriis as the silver-haired warrior slowly returned to her side, facing east.
Kiota had been using the time where the drow was making his demands to start scooting away. She was safe, now, and not that she wasn't grateful. She just wasn't really so good with groups of people. Maybe she could talk to them later, but right now, she still wanted that cry. It had been an absolutely terrifying experience to her. Attempts on her life or the like weren't new, but that didn't make it any easier. If not stopped, she'd disappear into some foliage or other, tail slithering into the greenery.
Merrien rolls her eyes, "I can't read. I don't know where any library would be. Can't help you there."
Seriis has to resist the itching desire to stick his tongue out at Krice's retreating back. He reminds himself that he is not a boy any more, he is a man. Yes. A small man, in comparison to this human, but a man all the same. A man with a mission, too, who is not finding all the answers he was seeking from these queer strangers. They were smart enough to give him at least a little information, though - he'll go off that. With a curt nod to Merrien in particular, whom he has deemed the most helpful of the bunch (even if he does have the urge to cruelly mock her inability to read), Seriis promptly turns to stalk silently back the way he came, hoping to high hell that no wanderer has made off with his belongings and that his companions have returned.
Krice slid a sideways glance at Merrien in the wake of her admission and arched a brow in subtle surprise. She couldn't read? With Seriis' silence, the warrior was alerted to the fact that perhaps the drow was leaving. He turned again, now abreast Merrien, and spoke to the drow. He called no attention to the retreating Kiota. Perhaps he agreed that she needed to get away, to find some place safe to recouperate from her frightening ordeal. For Seriis, the warrior said, "I know of one library in Cenril, behind me to the east." A beat. "East along Beloy Street until you get to the cliffs. The library's north o'them."
Kiota is gone.
Merrien shrugs and nods to the drow in response to his slight gratitude, hoping to speed him on his way.
Seriis glances back and levels upon Krice a decidedly appraising look. "...North of the cliffs. Noted." A silent spark of reluctant gratitude is intoned in the words, if only barely. With that said, he's off again, tugging up the hood of his cloak as he trudges back southward. This time, he does not turn back.