RP:The Good and the Homeless
Summary: Larz runs into a fellow who turns out to be a good Samaritan, but is also homeless. The half-orc offers advice on where to go and suggests that he may find a place in the Devout's Guild.
Realty Headquarters
Maps of all sizes and shapes adorn the walls of this neat and tidy little office. Metal pins have been stuck through selective locations on most, possibly showing what is available or sold. Papers, notes and even more maps are tacked neatly on the sturdy desk in the corner. The couch is against the wall on the left side of the room and what looks to be a day bed neatly made is against the back wall out of the way. Perhaps the owner of the office spends long hours and rests here.
Kyori didn’t know anything about this place. He’d wandered in, sword on his back, through strange woods and curious fogs. Dirt streaks his pallid features and earthy leathers. He’s tall, roughly 6’ 2”, it gives him an advantage in crowds. The sea of people appears endless. With a burdened sigh, the human breaks off from the herd and leans back into a closed realty office. Colorful inked parchments advertise new properties and cuts of land. Kyori skimmed them with disinterest before plucking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. The scratch and flare of a match curled into his palm yields a plume of smoke moments later. He takes a deep draw, tosses the match into the dirt, and grinds it down with the heel of his riding boots. His ashen blonde hair, just long enough to appear disheveled, makes further use of his height by throwing back sunlight to the surrounding walls and shadows.
Largakh slinks in, but not unnoticeably due to his six foot seven height and furthermore to the fact that he’s a friggin orc! The workers seem to instantly tense in wait for the man to make a move and a sense of relief visibly comes over them when the half-orc simply meanders to the wall of posted land for sale. Dressed in a simple pair of black slacks and a long sleeve grey tunic to cover his vitiligo, but unequipped - he obviously didn’t come here for a fight or to appear threatening. He scowls slightly after sighing, “out of my price range.” Orcs understand currency? Most would just take land they wanted with brute force, but this one is obviously different. He isn’t even sure why he came this way, so far from Gualon, but mostly because he knows the more coastal towns are pricier. “Leave no stone unturned,” he says softly to himself before noticing the stranger who seems almost as out of place in Cenril as himself. Tuscan sun colored eyes that glimmer a sense of intelligence meet the man, “no luck on your end either?” A subtle grin curves his lips up in understanding - as if to say ‘same’.
Kyori felt the stranger’s approach before he stepped up to consider the posters. His ears were finely tuned. He smokes his cigarette, patiently avoiding eye contact until a conversation appears. Largakh’s golden eyes will meet with the chilled touch of ocean waters in winter. Churning and never resting. He flicks his scruffy chin up in acknowledgement. “E’erything is too pricey,” The man agrees in a casual baritone before drawing from his cigarette again. He offers the open pack and match book to the orc, if he was interested. “Any particular reason you’re look’in at places here?” Being new, Kyori wondered if this providence was favored because of it’s oceanfront property. “It isn’t particularly safe.” He’d stopped a woman from being mugged just this morning.
Largakh politely declines with a wave of his hand while openly nonjudgmental towards those that choose to smoke, “no thank you, sir.” The half-orc’s voice is somewhat gravely like an orc, but his subtle elven accent and ability to casually make intelligent conversation softens any malice a full blooded orc’s voice would give off. “Well… simply put, I have been gone for some time and my cheap apartment in Gualon has long been rented out to someone else,” he speaks matter-of-factly, harboring no ill will about his plight. “Luckily, I have a temporary sanctuary until I’m back on my feet,” the man has sharp features like an elf despite the pine green tone to his skin, but even so, his cheeks look a little too gaunt as if he’d been starved for months on end. A subtle shrug from broad shoulders, “danger doesn’t typically come my way. I’m scarier than some robbers on the beach, at least… that’s what most assume when they first see an orc,” he allows a soft and short chuckle before adding, “I was a city guard in Gualon so maybe I could help police that action anyway.” He was more a detective and without being obvious, the half-orc is able to pick up on a few subtle hints that maybe this man is also homeless, “are you in the market for a place to call home as well?”
Kyori nodded and tucked the pack back into his pocket. This orc was overly polite, not that the solider objected, but it –was- strange. “Hmm, that is lucky.” He casts his eyes momentarily back out into the crowd, trying to anchor himself to this time and this place instead of slipping away in to memories of a time when he had a home. A place to land if his plans went south. Safety. Kyori tosses his cigarette, half finished, into the dirt and repeats the process of grinding out the cherry. A little too hard, if the orc takes note. “I bet they could use another hand.” The warrior’s attention rebounds from the dirt below to Larz’s face again, his composure solidified. He chuckles, humorlessly. “You’d think old women would be scarier, by half.” He didn’t see the point in judging by race. It’s obvious speaking with this orc that he isn’t ordinary for his kind. His delicate facial features and eloquence give him an ethereal quality of intelligence and being. A good guy. “Been homeless for a long time,” he shrugs, used to the burden that came with sharing that bit of information. “But I’m starting to think it’s time to start over. Snag a plot and fight for something again.” He pauses, gauging the orc’s reaction, before extending his hand to shake. “Name’s Kyori.” One blonde eyebrow quirked up, silently inquiring the orc’s name in return.
Largakh reminds himself not to solely stare at the man’s face and to keep his wits about him in order to get back to being normal. It’s been so long since he’s had a conversation with anyone other than his captor in the past year or so, but he is finding the joy in the small things like that, “exactly!” He shares a jovial chuckle with the man at the comment of the old women. Even if the spell blade didn’t find Larz disgusting or potentially dangerous, he can surely see that the surrounding crowd was not so keen… not so keen, indeed. Being half-orc, elves loathe him, being anything that resembles an orc, humans cower from him and anyone else is disgusted by the mix of races in him, “starting over.” He repeats with a grin that it just a bit wider and shows of slightly long, yet white and perfectly set teeth, “seems we are in the same boat.” A thought is interrupted when the man introduces himself and holds out a hand to which Larz accepts. Not an overly firm grip and a sturdy shake given as he says, “Largakh, but everyone calls me Larz.” Then his thought resurfaces, “hey. If you need a place to crash while you’re searching, you should stop by the sanctum in Kelay. They take in all kinds of refugees and weary until they figure things out and even though it’s run by the Devout’s Guild, I’m sure it doesn’t matter what deity you worship if any, they will take you in.” A raise of his shoulders, “they’ve been doing a lot of fighting if that’s what you’re searching for and if not, then I have a feeling they will still help. No questions asked.”
Kyori shook the orc’s hand in a firm but brief manner. He was aware, with disgust broiling in his mind, of the odd stares they were both receiving from the passerby’s. Kyori didn’t look all that out of place among the human populous but his hair was an unnatural sheen of blonde. It was easy to pick him out in a crowd, made easier by his height and the ornamental hilt strapped to his back. The most valuable things on him must be that sword and the subtle opal ring on his right hand. “Larz,” he repeats with finality. The half orc’s enthusiasm was unusual but not off putting. Larz was overly helpful. “Thanks,” Kyori shrugs, not mentioning his lack of worship or god to serve under. Did the Devout’s guild accept members based on a devotion to stay alive? That’s a god worth serving, or so Kyori thought. “Are you among their ranks or just aware of their good deeds?” Out of the corner of his eye, the warrior takes note of a black garbed figure weaving low through the crowd. It stalks through with resolute precision until it’s upon a young girl and her mother. “Hey!” Kyori shouts past Larz, kicking off the brick exterior of the realty building, launching himself towards the assault. He ran, reaching over his shoulder to expose half of the blade’s hilt. It’s black as pitch, absorbing all trace of sunlight around it. The attacking figure continues it’s hunched beeline away from crowd, child tucked in it’s robes. Kyori speeds past the mother, fallen into a parting crowd. “Last warning! Oy!” He shouts, carving a path behind the shadow and unsheathing the full length of his sword in a downward swipe of the blade. It whistled through the air, pinning the figure’s mangled clothes into the cobblestone, trapping it. It’s robes thrashed and trembled. No doubt the child was underneath, waiting to be freed.
Largakh nods once, “I was asked, yes, but got the strong feeling that I was extended the offer, not out of requirement just because I am currently seeking refuge in the sanctum. I also got the feeling that regardless of any deity I follow, that it did not make a difference. As of right now, there is a lot of evil bubbling under the surface and around every corner, so any that fight for the greater good would probably be accepted. Being as I just joined, I am not entirely versed on such things, but it never hurts to ask miss Khitti,” it was just then that Larz follows Kyori’s line of sight and observes what starts to unfold in the streets before stepping out of the way when the spell blade takes off in their direction. The half-orc keeps up to an extent, but because he isn’t one hundred percent back to his old healthy self - he got winded. Acting quickly, he steps up on a pile of crates after borrowing a newly purchased bow and arrow along with a quiver full of arrows from a passerby. With a surprising quickness, the half-orc notches the arrow and draws the string to the bow back before releasing the arrow which soars with impressive precision to the kidnapper’s knee. With a sickening squelch, the arrow sticks right through the backside of the man’s knee and begins to exit through the kneecap which brings the attacker down on his other knee while shrieking in pain. “Kyori! The child!” He calls as he notices the poor scared thing starting to run off in any direction. Larz gets down off the crate and hands the bow back to the bystander and helps the mother up to her feet before making his way to Kyori.
Kyori smells the blood in the air before he sees the arrow’s path through the back of the kidnapper’s knee. That oughta do it. He is parsing through the cloth, trying to find the being responsible when Larz calls out about the child. His sword glides back into his sheath with a click before he bounds after the frightened girl. The warrior scoops her up and she (understandably) screaks. “Whoa, whoa –“ He offers, arms looped under her arms and the back of her knees. She squirms and Larz can no doubt see Kyoria’s aggravated expression. Cenril guards, drawn to the disturbance, are collecting the injured kidnapper. The girl in his arms continues to scream until set down in front of her mother and the two embrace. Dirt and tears cake their faces. His arm loops over his shoulder again, testing the security of his blade, before turning to Larz with a nod. “I don’t remember seeing a bow on you before,” he jests while the mother thanks them profusely. “No trouble ma’am. Ma’am, please, no it’s fine. Thank you, yes.” She started to ramble about how hard things had been for her since her husband passed away but it made Kyori uncomfortable. “Damn good shot, I’m I’pressed.” The warrior claps the half orc on the elbow, given that he’s nearly a foot taller.
Largakh looks the mother up and down while asking the woman, “are you alright? The fall didn’t maim you?” The woman shakes her head and before embracing her child, as Larz looks to Kyori while tilting his head towards the man with the bow and the stranger is looking unsure of what to say. Like, he wants to be upset with the usurp of his newly bought bow, but at the same time he was luckily in the right time and place so that the poor child wouldn’t get taken. “The bow is that gentleman's,” he says before humbly shrugging, “thanks, Kyori, but if it weren’t for you I may have missed the altercation all together and at this time I am unfit to run anyone down.” He is starting to feel nagging, but makes one final mention, “the last I will offer of the devouts is that… I am sure the guild could use a man with that type of action right there, brother.” Not only that, but he did drop the fact that he stopped a mugging earlier that day as well and maybe Kyori likes doing things for those other than himself than he would like to admit. With a knowing grin, he gives a nod of respect to Kyori before turning his attention to the poor mother and child, “madam. If you will allow, I can escort you to the sanctum in Kelay where there are people better suited than I to help you in your recent plight.” The woman looked uncertain, but realizes the orc’s politeness and the fact he has no weapon before giving a short nod. Now Kyori might understand why Larz is so polite, he has to be in order to show people that he isn’t an evil and power hungry orc brute because people judge before they even get to know the man. “On the way, feel free to vent about your trials madam…” With one last look to Kyori, he genuinely offers, “I do hope I see you again sir Kyori and good luck.”
Kyori’d almost forgotten about the Devout’s guild Larz mentioned before. He furrows his golden brows and nods. “Right.” A simple acknowledgement. The half orc takes possession of both the mother and child while the warrior lingers nearby, rooted in place while the trio starts their journey to Kelay. What a polite orc, he thought redundantly. “See ya round Larz. Take it easy.” And with that, their paths diverged.
This is a Devout's Guild RP.