Lowly Scavenger (Qit)

Lavana Travels Into The Sweet Vine.

From Tried's Mouth to the mysterious Tower, the waters around Scalvoris and the island itself hold a vast array of secrets, just ripe for discovery. Here are landmarks and small villages of note, dotted in and around the island itself.

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Lowly Scavenger (Qit)

Postby Lavana Tharn » Mon Feb 05, 2018 9:45 am

25th Of Cylus 718

It was dark and shitty out, snow here there and everywhere and Lavana didnt know her head from her ass out in the wilderness. But she was on the look out for something to eat, the storm had ravaged the docks and people were hungry and starving from food shortages.

Now it wasnt necessarily her problem that people were starving, it was her problem however when her own belly rumbled at her. Lavana was not a hunter, but she was pretty smart and she was hoping to capitalise on the storm and icey temperature to find what she wanted. A carcass preserved in the frost and snow, frozen to be thawed out and enjoyed at a later date.

People seemed to forget where meat comes from, and when the stores shut down there easy life is over. There dependencies are exposed, and while she couldnt rightly call herself a hunter. She did have a title which was the lowest of the low in the wilds, a filthy scavenger. But shed take it and wear that title with honor rather then resign to the ever so popular do nothing woes.

If she had her choice of scavenging beast to become she would be a carrion bird, a raven or a crow. She remembered them vividly arriving on the scene trials after the battles were over, and men lay dead wounded or dying in some long past imperial campaign. How'd they flutter down, hop and hobble and snip snip with there beaks trimming chunks of flesh off the helpless and dead. She was reminded of one in particular that snatched a mans eyeball from its socket breaking it free from the cord of tendon as he muffled pitiful whimpers of agony and horror. He wasnt dead but he wasnt in a position to fight back either, carcasses strewn out as far as the eye could see on the field of battle the aftermath of one of Valtharns successful campaigns.

Lavana remembered she had been ready to draw her blade and end his life but her adopted father made her withold the privilege of mercy saying it was for the birds as he laughed.

Lavana enjoyed a particular privilege with him, he was a high ranking Scout. And she was simply a nameless petty squire that time would forget she was truly nothing more then a cup bearer. Her helmet carried only a slit visor and offered poor visibility but she was used to it, it was not her job to speak only observe and in armor she appeared as if a young man. Lavana never participated in those battles, never got to be a part of the war council the only thing she got to see was the aftermath of her sisters campaigns as if her adopted father and real father had conspired to let her bask in her sisters achievements as theyd walk the field together and would make it a point to show off her sisters triumphs.

And the birds the squawking there dancing of merriment and feasting at the wonders at her feat. It was those memories from a different time and place, but it had been so graphic it had left a lasting impression on her. It was an exquisite work of art the brutality and cruelty the slaughter and those left behind to be butchered by ravenous birds, those were the best days of her life.

Lavana drank the ambiance of violence with all too eager amber eyes, Valtharn was the coolest thing she -never- did see and before her descent she idolized her victories the only thing she had were the stories told. So she trained with her claymore at her adopted fathers home, there hadn't been a day she found herself not pretending to meet her, what she would say, how she would act. Work just a little harder and push just a little further and one day it would pay off and she could draw steel and blood on her vanguard as a shock troop and see the stories and be a part of them first hand, oh how she dreamed charmed by the pretty lies. Lavana wanted to be just like her, a commander, a war hero, a warrior the very name astounded her at first but the fates would see them cursed.

Her heroes had failed her.

She took Tharn as her last name to never forget after she vanquished her adopted father and even if she lived forever and ever.

But staring at the sky and the three moons getting drunk on macabre nostalgia was not the answer to an empty belly so she proceeded into the sweet vine.

The hunting strategy was simple, look where the animals were and see if anything had befallen a tragedy in the storm.

She traveled with her imperial leather armour on, her polished bronze claymore and miscellaneous gear. She wasnt expecting a fight, but your either prepared or your not. Better to have it and not need it then need it and not have it. As she scowered the sweet vine for something she could carve and take out of the ice and snow.
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Lavana Tharn
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Lowly Scavenger (Qit)

Postby Qit'ria » Wed Feb 14, 2018 3:09 pm

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The skies were dark over Sweetvine Woods. Over all lands, for this was Cylus. This was the time of year when the suns laid down to rest. And with it, the rest of Idalos slept in darkness. And that was just fine with Qit'ria. She was kneeling behind a particularly dense bush, covered in snow. But this bush had one tiny gap that she could peer through unseen at her quarry. Well, quarry and brethren.

She saw a pair of aye-aye mice scavenging around in the snow. Not being hunters, nor being the type of beast that sleeps the cold season away, these mice had to make due with putting themselves into danger. The snow, the lack of plant coverage, made them easy targets for predators. But Qit'ria wasn't a predator, at least, not in this particular moment. She was watching the two mice, staying close to each other. She could see them sniffing at one another, and it seemed they were communicating. But at this distance, she couldn't even hear the squeaks that she was sure were being exchanged.

And she wanted to. Badly. Not that she would be able to understand them in her current form. She fingered at the aye-aye mouse totem bracelet on her wrist. She was sorely tempted to take on the form of the mice. But to do so, was to put herself at extreme risk. She'd seen many a rat through her arcs plucked by a raptor overhead. It was such a quick action, that it was evident that the victims had no way of sensing it coming. They were dead before they realized what had happened.

She felt something from within her totem. An emotion. The curiosity to reach out to the mice. To not be alone. To hear what they were 'speaking' about. Qit'ria reached into her soul, feeling the foreign magic therein. She opened it, and let it flow out in a small rivulet. She kept it small, for this was exploratory, sending a tendril down her arm and pushing into the totem on her wrist. With the minor connection made, she pushed a thought along. A greeting.

She felt the totem respond. It was strange. There weren't any words. Just... feelings. Body language without a body. And a greeting was returned. And a question. Her totem wanted to know what the mice were saying. Qit'ria responded with a sense of danger. The totem was saddened. She could feel it. A sense was sent back. A longing, to be as big as Qit'ria, but as a mouse. To hear his friends, or perhaps family. There was pouting there too. Pouting that she had such weak ears.

Qit'ria cocked her head to the side as she pondered something. The only thing stopping her was her ears. And she remembered how loud and clear everything sounded when she took on the mouse form. The mouse's hearing was indeed better than her own. But it's ears. She'd had to create them when she assumed its form, both the exterior ear, and the inner ear. She opened the ether connection with her totem some more. And she probed the totem, feeling for the knowledge to hear, but leave the rest behind.

She found it, nestled deep within the totem's spiritual core. And she coaxed it out softly. And it came, 'hand in hand' with her. She pulled it into her body, and let the ether travel, sending it up into her head. She spread it throughout her ears, inner and outer. And she changed the inner structures. It was slow work, for she'd known, but had not realized truly, just how many small, working parts were inside the ear.

But when it was done, the outside world became so clear. She heard squeaks, and she felt her totem on her wrist cheer in glee. She couldn't understand the squeaks, but she could certainly hear them. And more importantly, it seemed her totem could make out what was being said. She stayed there, hidden behind the bush, spying upon these mice.

She heard a distant footstep. As did the other mice. They paused in their conversation, and stopped. And the air was silent, as all those present held their breaths. More steps, coming closer. And while Qit'ria could hear them with her mouse ears, her own mind was able to identify them as someone who wasn't used to stalking through a forest quietly. A fool, or a kitten of a hunter. Either way, they were being careless.

As the woman came through the brush, the two mice scurried off rapidly, disappearing into the distant brush. Qit'ria felt an upwelling of fear and anger from her totem. This woman that stood there, with her fancy leathers and her ridiculously large sword had upset Qit'ria's friend. That was not acceptable. Qit'ria silently drew her javelin. This woman needed taught a lesson.

Qit'ria stayed crouched as she eyed this fool, as she adjusted her grip on her javelin. She then popped up from the bush with a snarl, and threw it hard toward the woman, aiming to plunge it into the ground between her legs. Her one and only warning shot. Qit'ria immediately dashed backwards, drawing another javelin as she moved. She was close enough to hear the woman's breathing when she tried. If the woman followed her, Qit'ria knew it to be a challenge of her territory. So she carved a path away, ensuring to leave obvious footprints in the snow, so as to be completely sure of this interloper's intentions were clear. As for her own, it was simple. Drive this fool away from her woods.
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Lowly Scavenger (Qit)

Postby Lavana Tharn » Thu Feb 15, 2018 11:10 pm

As Lavana traversed snowy terrain it had come so suddenly an ambush as she was blind sided with stealth and tenacious ferocity and thump as a javelin burrowed into dirt and snow between her legs, followed by the hiss of some savage creature that ran away. Was this a thwarthide? She hadnt gotten enough of a good look, as being accosted so suddenly had sent the imperial princess on her ass post haste.


She got herself up, and eyed the javelin with interest. She touched it, left it alone, touched it again and worked up the courage to pull it free. The lowly scavenger simply scavenged this fine hunting tool. She might not have been able to throw it for shit, but at least shed get around in style.

Lavana held it with both her hands studying its cylindrical shape and pretended to thrust at stuff with it. Maybe in another life, this would have been her weapon of choice. She danced and played with this new spear under the moon, a small triumph for her.

"Thank You!

Have You Seen Anything To Eat?"

She called out to the shadowy darkness, Lavana wasnt sure of what to make of it maybe it was a person and not a beast. If no answer was given shed venture in the other direction not wanting to disturb whatever the heck that was as she used the javelin as a handy walking stick.

The lowly scavenger would go back to picking and looking for a food source under a blanket of frost and snow.
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