RP:S1, E1 Not So Dumb
Summary: Larz gains an unlikely acquaintance.
Ancient Forest
The tallest of trees, and of stalks hold sway here, ample evidence of the ages these woods have held witness to. Soft foliage intersperses among the timbers, adding a colorful vibrancy to the hues. Multi-toned leaves rustle near the base of a particularly powerful oak as a blur of softest russet, trimmed in white, dives for cover. Peering closer, you are met by the fierce stare and even fiercer of a rambunctious squirrel. The trees continue to tower both east and west, but darken to dreariness northward.
Largakh knelt down into the thicket the forest provides with his hunting bow at the ready and being taller than an elf, but on the short side for an orc gave him an odd advantage as a ranger. Brown eyes so light they seem nearly yellow narrow at his target before releasing the quiver and his aim proved true, hitting his pray in the skull. His angular features offset his dark skin for he looks mostly like a tall elf, but you can tell he's a half breed. As soon as he stands to his six seven height an arrow finds his bicep, snickering can be heard in the distance and with his exceptional hearing he could pick up on mocking whispers from other elves. He knew he shouldn't have tried to hunt here, but he's here now... Ignoring them he snaps the quill off and goes about his business while dark red blood slips down his arm decorating the soft leathers he wears. Surprisingly light on his feet for being so tall and half orc he silently moves through the forest to fetch his kill and once he does he starts to see about wedging the arrowhead out of his arm.
Emilia walked barefoot through the forest of Sage making no sound as she traveled along, almost like a ghost floating over the ground instead of a real being. The woman barely reached five feet in height including those wild white curls that dangled down from the top of her head to the forest floor below adorn in a simple white gown, torn at the hems and tatted with stains mixed of dirt and blood. It was the sound of an arrow that caught the attention of the former bow shooter. A moment of silence as she closed her eyes, reliving the old days of when she once used a bow. This ended as the smell of blood, foreign blood reached her nose. Ice-blue eyes of the snow white woman fluttered open and feet quickly glided across the forest in a quick pace toward Largakh. Stopping the Genasi kept a safe distance from the stranger with dark skin, eyes studying him over from her place not too far from where he was. It was with a whisper on cold air that she spoke, "You are bleeding, Sir"
Largakh wasn’t that good at hearing - blame the abomination that is his gene make-up. When Emilia spoke his head snapped in the direction and muscle memory followed; pulling free an arrow from his quiver and pulling back that string… He had to realign his aim down to her height, but quickly stood down with lowering his bow all the way. Tuscan yellow eyes that seem to glow in the darkening forest take in the sight of her and even though warning signs of seeing such a being were blaring in his to run mind he ignored it for now. His jaw tenses after sort of shifting - it’s hard to constantly hide that severe underbite in stressful situations and mostly this results his facial expression looking rather severe. He did hear more snickering in the distance after a whisper of ‘she called him ‘sir’!’ If she heard too she would put together that he is rather the outcast in these forests. A glance in the direction before finally addressing her concern or sick infatuation for blood. His voice was not as pleasant or normal as his face and it is more on the orc side, low, gravely and sometimes just sounding like a grunt, “yes.” He went back to trying to pull the arrowhead free, which proved difficult because he doesn’t have very thick skin like his father, but it wasn’t exactly pliable like humans or elves. A shaking of his head, “no ‘Sir’... Larz.” He points to himself.
Emilia stood like a twig compared to Larz in the forest, a little woman of white that almost glowed with her lack of color, a frail little thing that could be snapped like a twig. However, she never flinched when he aimed an arrow at her, it was to be expected when you sneak up on someone in the woods. The snickers and laughs were met with a wave of that odd black hand of hers, a gust of frozen air that left frost on the trees dashing through the woods in the direction of the voices, yet it otherwise didn’t seem like anything had happened beyond a dismissive wave. Turning eyes back on the man she held up mismatched hands in the air, showing she meant no harm, “If you would like, Larz I can fix that for you. I am a healer.” This time the Genasi spoke normally, a soft voice that danced on the wind with a calming sound. Something about her didn’t seem right, he was just in fearing her. The cold that leaked from her presence turned the already chilled night even chillier within the area around her and the fawna about her feet to form a thin frost.
Largakh was okay with the cold to an extent, but whenever she waved her hand that was all he saw as anything arcane or magical goes right over his head. He isn’t as dumb as he lets on, although he isn’t as smart as elves even though he was raised by his grandparents right here in sage. The wound isn’t causing him a great deal of pain even though he knows his grandmother with throw a fit and at the offer he gives a shrug, pats his pockets to his pants… He left his gold in his craphole apartment in Gualon. “I’ve no gold…” He leaned down after securing his bow on his shoulder and picked up the boar he killed rather easily, “this?” He means to pay her for her work. There wasn’t really any moment he took his eyes off the woman even though he doesn't have much to be stolen or taken from him, he was still suspicious.
Emilia let her hands fall back to her sides. A lock of white being curled around her finger in the middle of the strands that surely if straightened out would be longer than she was tall. “You do not have to pay me to mend your wound, Larz. I don’t need gold or meat...I cannot eat it,” she answered him in a clam voice as she moved to take a few slow steps closer to the halfing. Pointing to herself with a frosty white finger, “I’m Emi. I forgot to give you my name earlier. Tis a pleasure to meet you, Mister Larz.” She was polite even if she appeared to be a ghost of a child that carried death’s chill with her. This time she changed the Sir to Mister when addressing him. Another two slow steps closer to him as long as he didn’t turn that bow upon her again. “I can mend it with magic or if you prefer simple mundane healing of bandages and a stitch or two,” the Healer offered either service to him, still not asking for any price in return.
Largakh set the dead animal back down and gave one deep nod, “Emi… Nice meeting Emi.” Sure he can speak in fuller sentences, but he’s a rather guarded individual so only those close to him know he’s actually of moderate intelligence. At her inquiry of preferred method of healing he gave shrug for he did not have one because he usually just let his scars scab over and leave their marks simply because of his blemish ridden complexion (evident on the few scars on his face as well). His face didn’t show much of his skin condition yet, but when he slipped his soft leather jacket off she would see his arms were dappled in blue contrasting brilliantly against his dark green skin. He kept the short sleeve brown cotton shirt on over his rather thin frame - it was quite the odd mix of the two races, thin like an elf, tall like an orc. His jaw tensed again as he took a seat on a nearby boulder to lower himself to her level. Glancing back at the woman he found there were so many questions, ‘why is she out here on her own?’, ‘where are her shoes?’, ‘how soon will it be till she starts making fun of me as well?’ He refrains from articulating just yet, “where does Emi go?” Which is pretty much like asking why is she out here.
Emilia glanced him over once he slid off the outer jacket, but it was a brief glance without judgement in those soul piercing blue eyes. Once he was seated the woman finished crossing the distance between them bringing with her a chill of winter, as if her presence was had a bubble around her and he had just entered slid through it. Mismatched white and black hands reached down to touch the wound with the arrow head stuck in the flesh. If the cold air wasn’t enough to run him off that touch of hers was like putting ice against his skin for a prolonged time to the point it was numb from it. Sadly that was with minimal contact with her flesh. “I am going to remove that…”she said pointing with a finger to the arrowhead. Once he would consent those little white fingers of hers would slid into the numb open wound. With a bit of wiggling and pulling it wouldn’t be long and she would be offering him the object back, if he wanted to keep it. While she worked the opening would slowly close up as her fingers removed from it, magic. Quick and painless. During her mending she answered his question, “I am a Healer and I find that I wander a good bit. In truth, there is no real place for me in this land and it is easier to just let my feet guide me. Where does Larz go?”
Largakh didn’t seem to change when she got closer, but shivered just slightly when she touched his hound. It was tolerable to him. He didn’t look much at her this time, it was awkward for him because people aren’t very nice to him simply because of the horrible mix he is. One nod again when she mentions what she was going to do and still there wasn’t much of a reaction to the pain it may or may have not caused. He took the arrowhead back and wiped the thick dark red blood from it before holding it up over his head to inspect it, but at this he gives a knowing slight frown… It sucks when you know these elves, he grew up with them and at this he takes a deep breath of disappointment. At her answer he offers a simple grunt of acknowledgement which may come off as rude, but he doesn’t mean it that way - especially since there’s a small similarity there. He doesn’t belong anywhere either. Then she is asking about him and those odd yellow eyes settle on the tiny woman once more in a quiet moment… He’s unsure how to answer seeing as he secretly holds Sage as his home, but he was never welcome and he’s had to settle for Gualon for his home because he didn’t want his grandparents to go through anymore trouble with the local elves. When his mouth opened to reply and in his hesitation she might see his bottom canines were nonexistent as if they were pulled out ages ago… “Gualon.” He looked away in his lie.
Emilia gently patted his arm, the slight scar of silver mixed into his already mismatched skin barely noticeable. Wiping her fingers free of the blood on her already dirty gown she listened to his reply without much of a full feeling that it was a whole truth, but the Genasi had her own set of skills with people leaving her face almost reactionless to his answer or to his grunts, she understood. “I have a house in Gualon, why don’t I accompany you to the city and if you would like you can join me for a cup of tea? The house is a bit dusty I would imagine, I haven’t been to that one in some time, but a bit of a gust should take care of that,” she offered with a genuine smile. Larz was different in a good way. The Genasi found the best company with those who were not the define cookie cutter of the different races.
Largahk, again, felt awkward once she finished and he went to put his jacket back on, to which his bow followed, “thank Emi.” Watching her movements of wiping his blood on her tattered dress he realized where the rest came from and the fact she was out here in nothing more than a thin dress didn’t raise any comments either… She has these cold powers - she likes cold, end of story. Maybe he should stupidly ask what many people probably asked her to keep her off the trail that he’s smarter than he seems, but she’s inviting him. For tea. In her house. At this his eyebrows raise in surprise and when she smiles up at him his jaw tenses once more before his reply, “okay.” When he stood up he hunched slightly, it is a habit he acquired around his family to make himself seem shorter. They walk on at her lead and the closer they neared to Gualon the straighter he stood and maybe he showed her a shortcut - which may raise awareness that he makes this journey often between Gualon and Sage. Before entering Gualon he made one unusual notion of roughing his short black hair slightly and the locals greet him - seems he’s a city guard.
Emilia walked at a pace more of a glide than a walk or a run, leaving behind no prints in her wake as if she had never set foot there. As long as those barefeet didn’t remain grounded long no frost was left behind. While they walked she let the silence settle over them for a time in Sage, but upon exiting she began to talk, “Larz, I know you might not hear this often, but do not let the world make you feel any less than you are. I might be a frozen monster, but I can see it that you are not some stupid idiot wandering the forest. You are unique and don’t let that stop you.” Entering Gualon the woman fell silent as he was greeted by the people for being one of their city Guard. The little woman was too greeted by the same citizens, only with slight shock at seeing the woman within the city again. Since her husband left her she hadn’t been back, yet they still regarded her as if she was one of their own citizens that had been on a small vacation. The town would be in chatter for days over the return of the Genasi, co-leader to the Healer’s Guild. Larz would find that he had not met some random being in the woods, but a well known person of the land. “Ah, well, this way” she would state before leading the way through the city down near the orphanage where an old farm sat with vines covering it, surely the dust inside was terrible. It had been a very long time since anyone had set foot here. The farm was surrounding by a worn out fence that the icy one hoped over, “Sorry, it isn’t the prettiest of things, but it is one of my homes.” then she would lead the way up the broken stairs that lead to giant porch and the front door.
Largakh simply glanced down at the woman. He could be some serial killer for all she knew and saying encouraging words to him, but he eventually found it pointless to mention such a thing. She’s no child, she can make her own dangerous decisions if she pleases, he simply states, “I don’t feel.” One of his fellow employees walks up, very tall, wide orc and he’s bellowing a loud chuckle, “Larz no grow yet?! Find shorter friend to feel tall?” Larz just grins crookedly up at the other city guard while they move on and when they pass the orphanage he meets the receptionist at the gate when she was going back in, gives her the boar and she drug it toward the orphanage - seems the hunt wasn’t even for himself. Cliche. When he caught back up to Emilia and was welcomed into her home he shoved his hands into his pockets while looking about in silence… When she’s apologizing he looks toward her with a shrug, “it’s just things.” The jig is up so he talks more properly, but keeps it short. He waits for further guidance from the gensai of where to sit for this tea, maybe he needs to make it because of her affinity.
Emilia watched Larz from the porch as she opened the front door if only for a cloud of dust to expel out. Another wave of those hands sent a large gust of cold wind throughout the two story home causing windows to suddenly open as clouds of dust came falling out. Inside the home was spacious if mostly empty. There was an old couch before a large unlit fireplace in the first room they entered. Attached to it was a room just as large with a table running the length of it, easily seating twenty plus people, with benches. Beyond a set of swinging doors was the kitchen long unused. Beyond the main view of the house there was stairs leading to an upper floor behind the front door and past the fire a long hall with three doors on either side plus one at the end. No one lived here, but it was once a house with many guests and tiny halfling feet running across the wooden floor. Inside the home the Genasi seemed to shrink with a sigh as the memories faded in and out, yet she smiled for her guest. Opening up the kitchen she began to work on lighting a fire for making the tea, even if she managed to burn her fingers a time or two she didn’t notice or react to the injuries. She couldn’t feel either. “What kind of tea do you like?” Em questioned opening a cupboard that contained many various teas from cheap to way expensive, “That was nice of you to give the boar to the orphanage.” she added.
Largakh was impressed by the home even if he didn't show it and once he followed her into the kitchen, “better than my craphole apartment.” Seeing her reach for the matches, he waved her hand away and reached for them instead to light the fire for her, “earl grey.” It wasn't out of trying to save Emilia from a burn, but it seems torture in a way to make an ice creature deal with fire elements. While she sorting out which tea bags to bring out he puts a kettle of water on the fire, “they gotta eat.” He says nonchalantly as if he doesn't make a point to visit frequently and donate most of his pay from the city to the orphanage, that's why he has only one simple studio apartment. He doesn't sit unless asked to and soft, meandering strides brings him around the kitchen, looking from this to that, taking it in. She doesn't like being here, it's obvious from the condition of the house. It's a large home and now it's empty, there is a story here and probably one she doesn't like to tell. He decides he won't keep her long, she's offered her kindness enough and allowing her to bring him here seems wrong.
Emilia didn’t stop him from taking away the fire from her. Many times had she gotten in trouble for burning herself, not paying attention to the injury due to her lack of being able to feel. On tip toes she dug around in the cupboard until she had found the tea he had requested and brought it over to him, “Here we go, earl grey.” There was a gentle smile on those blue lips for a moment before she stared out past the kitchen into the dining area, “Have a seat?” She didn’t like it here anymore, yet this was a good place to go since she owned it. Then again all her homes across the lands were sitting with dust covering the insides of them. Exiting the kitchen the lady walked along the length of the table with her fingers dragging over the smooth wood before she returned to the kitchen to grab a cup from another cupboard and offer it over to Larz, “I know what it is like to be judged before being known, to be the freak in the room, and the outsider...If you donate to the orphans it tells loud enough of your true soul. You are a good whatever you are and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Largakh takes a seat and scoots out one with his booted foot for her. He took the cup and set it down waiting for the kettle to whistle. Elbows leaned him over the table while he counted the chairs in his mind, “I know it,” being judged and branded a freak, “been used to it over eighty years now.” Tuscan colored eyes looking down into the emptiness of his cup. A shrug, “I am a freak though.” He said it almost proudly because it made it that much easier to take any harm out of the word if he owned it as he relaxed back into the chair and sort of slouched down in it. “Anything people tell me, I don't care… Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see.” Obviously he a cynical sort and this is when the kettle whistles, he gets it while wondering if he should also get ice cubes for her tea. He pours their tea while turning her words on herself, “same to you.”
Emilia may have invited him over for tea, but she wouldn’t be drinking any of it till sometime tomorrow once it was chilled fully. However, she accepted the cup from him without touching it again, allowing it to sit on the table before her. “Unlike you I am a monster. Not just a freak that used to be human before freezing over with a wintery core. Embrace being freak, not many can say it with pride. Someday that which makes you different will keep you alive when others will die,” she said softly staring down into the tea. “Also, I don’t believe you when you say you don’t care. I heal people daily I have gotten good at reading people. You care what those stupid elves think of you for being not pure blood, but you push it off like it is nothing. Care. Deeply care what they say and let those words of falseness fill you up and encourage you to keep up the good that you do daily.”
Largakh sipped his tea after putting some lemon in it and an ice cube for both of their drinks, maybe two for her’s. He was leaning on the table once more and those eyes narrow on her, “hm… Close.” Another sip of tea before letting the silence of the home wash over them… She wants to get personal, this is fine. “It’s my grandparents. They had to raise me after my mother passed due to complications during childbirth.” The guarded layers of just being some stupid orc peel away and his jaw does that shifting thing before he continues, “they didn’t want me at first, but they raised me in Sage and as soon as I could I got out of there to be on my own so the community would stop shunning them.” He sips his tea more, “they didn’t ask to raise a half orc and they had even shunned my mother for choosing to be with an orc.” Another awkward pause while staring down into his drink, “so, I care what they go through. I am disappointed in the elves that have made their way of life so hard…” He had not shared that story in a long time and eventually he looked back to Emilia, “sorry… But you -were- close.”
Emilia listened to the male as he spoke about his upbringing and how it wasn’t the best for him or his grandparents. She respected his well wishes for his grandparents and respected them for stepping up to raise him even when they didn’t wish to at first. There was a smile to a frown, “I understand that. I was a child when my family was murdered and I somehow survived only to get whipped and sold into slavery as a punishment for the crimes I supposedly did. Be happy you had some form of family that did step up for you and take you in. I respect how you feel about your grandparents. I shall speak with the elves if I must to correct their treatment of them.” There she shared a bit of herself she’d not spoken aloud in some time, yet it wasn’t his concern to hear her sad tale of life that she could continue on with, but stopped there. “I see you are part of the city Guard, that must be an honor.”
Largahk shakes his head once, “do not worry yourself with them.” He seemed to listen to her story without staring at her because - awkward. He doesn’t look sad for her or seem to pity her and he understands that everyone has their baggage. He finished his tea and pushed his chair in after standing up, “lets get out of here… Have you considered renting this home out to friends or families in need?” He didn’t mean to come off callous or offensive, “what are you holding onto here?” It may be a shove to move on, but whatever was here doesn’t seem to bring her much joy and he’s a minimalist type. He places his empty cup in the empty sink of the empty kitchen and starts to head toward the door, “it is… Seems the orcs may just be too stupid to care that I am not like them.” He said in a way that’s like - ‘it is what it is.’ If she agreed to leave with him he would show her out of the city, but the man of very few words and grunts would return so he can keep up this charade.
Emilia shook her head slowly, “I think I shall stay here with my tea…” she said softly staring at the empty house, one in which she wound only sit there at the table staring into the unlit fireplace for many hours. “The aching hope that someday my children will return is what keeps my hope on this place, yet I know they won’t come back. I have loaned the houses of mine out here and there when asked or the cause needs for one. I hope you enjoy the night and don’t be a stranger. You are welcome to the house if you need use of it yourself. Pleasure to meet you Larz, be safe.”
Largakh took a deep breath and slowly let it out, “I see. Very good reason.” A bow of his head, “you as well, Emi. I’ll be patrolling tonight if you need anything.” Without commenting on her offer to use her home, because he won’t, he figured it best to leave her to it. He gives one sort of gesture that was sort of a salute to Emilia before closing the door behind him and onto his job.