• Open • [Buskerfest] The Ballad of Broken Blade Keep

[Kalortah]

52nd of Ymiden 720


Kalortah had fled Faldrass last season, flying forward and never looking back. Over the channels and waterways until he hit the mainland near Avaern, and then Korlasir. From there, he took the safe routes to Rharne, where he was forced, yes forced, to tie a peace ribbon around the hilt of his rapier in order to fasten it in its sheath. His switchblade disguised as a drum mallet was left alone, although whether that was because it fooled the guards or that they allowed small blades was a matter to wonder over. In the end, Kalortah opted not to tell them, in case he had need to defend himself against the hostile populace.

And he’d found the populace indeed was hostile toward his kind. While he’d yet to receive a beating the likes of which he heard Aukari were all but guaranteed, people gave him dirty looks. Kalortah, to his credit, ignored them, turning up his chin at the common folk. He was better than them, afterall, one couldn’t obsess over the opinions of plebians.

At any rate, he stayed at several Inns that allowed him to trade his voice for a bed and a meal. He found the travelling minstrel’s life suited him when he wasn’t getting heckled, but by now he was used to such behavior. The first few arcs of his wandering the world had seen his mind steeling to the jibes and jeers of foul-mouthed louts. To the point where he could sustain a performance even over their noise.

Kalortah was currently in the Market of the Earth Quarter in Rharne. He’d awaken to an auspicious holiday that it was told to him arrived every year. Buskerfest. Where everyone, even those without a license were encouraged to busk on the streets, sharing their talents for nel and whatever else they found of value.

Kalortah had a small corner set up for himself, and began singing a story of the Raid of Broken Blade Keep. It was more or less based on an adventure in Yaralon that hie’d had with a brave adventurer, known as Azrael... or was it Gerral?

Either way, Kalortah sang the story as well as he could. His voice carried over the waves, playing upon the air in such a way that it rose above the rest of the din. He found himself gathering quite the crowd in time, mostly women and children. The men gave him mean looks. But Kalortah supposed they were probably jealous of the attention he was getting. As if Kalortah had any interest in their plain and ugly wives!

He sang of the daring flight of Kalortah as he soared over the roof of the keep, dropping caltrops and crossbow bolts on the men stationed atop it, while Azrael worked his way up the tower, to find his nemesis, a man whose name died in ignomy.

He was halfway through the song/story, when a particularly burly drunk pushed his way through the crowd, and crossed his arms in front of Kalortah. He was at least a foot taller than Kalortah, and three times as heavy. An imposing figure if Kalortah was any judge.

”Gerrof the fuckin sidewalk yew Bird!” He bellowed, ”Yer kind ain’t welcome!”

Kalortah looked coolly away from the man, and tapped his drum melodically a few times as he hummed wordlessly. He thought, more than once, about releasing the switch that would produce a blade from his drum mallet, and driving it into the man’s business. But he didn’t want trouble.

”I don’t want trouble, friend. Why don’t you stand back and enjoy the music with the rest of this crowd?”

Kalortah’s voice trembled only slightly as he said it. The man was too close for comfort, and the minstrel wasn’t sure of his ability to take off into flight with so little room to run.

[Azrael]

52 Ymiden 720 | Azrael Blackfire | Rharne

Azrael loved Rharne. Not even two tentrials since he arrived and there was going to be a massive Quarter-wide party for trials. Rharne was far superior to Melrath in every way but one. Melrath was Talissa's home and when she wanted to return, Azrael would go with her. Fortunately that was an issue for much later, in the present Azrael was wandering the Earth Quarter alone as the Buskerfest raged around him. Tali had decided to spend some time trying to teach Thorn words because at his age he should have been able to. She explained something about how Ithecals were supposed to mature much faster than humans like Azrael (they were not aware that he was not entirely human) but Azrael didn't mind the child's pews. The child seemed to understand him and he seemed to understand it enough to get along... but he was glad Tali had stayed with the child so Azrael could explore the wild side of Rharne.

There was something invigorating about being a man marked by Syroa in such a sexually liberated city. Azrael decided it was definitely the way people looked at him as he walked by. Not everyone was interested but everyone looked up just for a moment with a little lust in their eyes. Azrael often thought of how he might be able to impress Syroa again but since going to Melrath he'd been a little more... modest than he had in other places. Perhaps exploring some of the looks he was getting would be worthwhile? Perhaps they would let him... what was the word? Attune to them? He'd gotten a little better at control during his time on the boat to Rharne but he still didn't really know what he was doing so unless he found something particularly interesting he left it alone. The whispers were irritating anyways.

The one thing Azrael didn't like about Rharne was that he had to wear a ribbon on his shortsword sheath to bind the blade inside but at least the ribbon looked nice. They'd left his father's spring-loaded dagger alone but Azrael didn't inquire why. He didn't want them to realize they'd made a mistake if they had. There was an unfortunate amount of paperwork that came with being a mage in Rharne but Talissa insisted Azrael go through all the proper procedures so he wasn't arrested one night on the way back from a bar- which Azrael thought was fair because he walked home from bars a lot. So really the only thing Azrael didn't like about Rharne was the law and that was pretty much how he felt everywhere.

So Azrael wandered the festively decorated Earth Quarter, browsing the dozens of shops and watching some performers briefly before losing interest and moving on. Only one performer got Azrael's attention for more than a bit and that was because the Avriel was singing a song about Azrael... well with Azrael in it. The song, the sellsword realized, was mostly about the bird. Fair enough, you wrote it. Azrael watched Kalortah perform from the back of the crowd and he watched as the burly drunk barged forward with his rude comments. The sellsword's eyes narrowed on the drunk and he began moving forward through the crowd. Kal tried to defuse the situation but Azrael knew drunks.

"If you don't like the song, keep moving. I'm sure you could find another drink you'll enjoy somewhere else." Azrael said in a stern voice from behind the drunk. Kal might not have wanted to fight but Azrael was certainly willing to if he couldn't talk the man down. He wouldn't throw the first punch, he'd just try to throw the last.

[Kalortah]

!	Message from: OOC
	Apologies for the wait. This is combat so it'll be a bit shorter in length. Feel free to bunny some success/failures with the burly guy, taking your skills into account. The guy is a flavor npc, so competent strength is really the only skill he has, with some endurance.

Kalortah's eyes shifted from the burly ignoramus to... well none other than the subject of his song, Azrael! Kal was surprised to find him here, but a little too concerned with the sudden threat of getting beaten halfway to broken by some angry human. Too concerned for his shock at seeing Azrael alive to register. Azrael was an adventurous sort, so Kal presumed he'd gotten himself into one spot of trouble or another, and gotten himself killed. He was glad, though, that wasn't the case, and Azrael was rising to defend the Avriel.

The burly human turned from the bird, to face Azrael. He glowered over the man, somehow making himself seem bigger than he really was. Kalortah watched as he approached the treasure hunter, and pounded his fist into an open palm menacingly. "Whats it to yew, weirdo? Fuckin' foreigners, moving into Rharne. We don't need no Yari or birdmen in our city! Rharneans are enough!" Some murmurs of agreement, and yet more people withdrawing from the slowly growing tension in the air, to observe the brawl that would surely ensue.

If Azrael blinked, for even a moment as the burly guy appraoched him, the burly guy would throw a gut-punch into his stomach. He thrust his lumber-like arm into the other man's stomach with all the force he could muster, which was considerable, given the shape of him.

Kalortah was afraid of getting involved now in a brawl, but was conflicted in that Azrael had stuck his neck out for him. As the man threw a punch, Kalortah jumped the guy from behind, and wrapped his arms around his neck.

[Azrael]

52 Ymiden 720 | Azrael Blackfire | Rharne

It wasn't hard to see where things were going when the man approached, beating one fist into an open palm and spouting nonsense about disliking foreigners. Make eye contact, get him to think about something else. He wouldn't get the chance to test his ability though because as soon as the man reached him and Azrael opened his mouth to make some smart or clever comment, which wasn't blinking but was just about as bad in terms of focusing on the first punch, the big man's arm fired into Azrael's stomach. He hit with a loud thud that knocked all the air out of Azrael's lungs, causing him to double over gasping for air. Kalortah leapt onto the back of the big man buying Azrael a few moments but it would take him longer than that to get his air back... so he had to make sure it took the big man as long to recover as it took him.

Azrael knew he couldn't hit as hard as the big man, especially without any air, but he could hit sensitive places. With the big man pulling at Kalortah's arms, his defenses were lowered but Azrael couldn't quite coordinate an attack yet. He took deep breaths while the man thrashed to try and remove Kal and then Azrael delivered a swift kick to the burly human's groin. The kick hit hard but threw the breathless mortalborn off-balance. Azrael crashed onto the ground and rolled on his back like an overturned turtle. He kept breathing but it was not the controlled breathing of an experienced warrior. It was the breathing of a man-child who'd just been punched in the stomach by a big bully.

[Kalortah]

Kalortah wasn’t a selfless soul, who stood in defense of others often. Hell, he was one to take flight at the first sign of trouble. But something about this situation stirred savagery within Kalortah that rarely saw the light of day. A pull to adventure and combat that sometimes came out when he was cornered, and there was no other way. Every avriel had a savage side to them, that gave way to a flurry of wildness. Kalortah experienced that same pull to savagery now, as he saw his once-ally Azrael getting pummeled into the pavement and against walls, and then finally having the wind knocked out of him.

It wasn’t hard to see that the man would finish the fight now that his opponent was prone to attack. With that determination, Kalortah spread his wings instinctively to make himself seem bigger, then buffeted them at the bully. This did enough to get his attention and turn it from Azrael for a moment to give the Mortalborn a moment to catch his breath.

Kalortah snarled at the big man, his adventurous and war-like side awakened by the sudden appearance of his ally from Yaralon. They’d beaten tougher men than this, albeit they’d been armed and Kalortah on the wing then, but still.

The avriel managed to duck beneath a haymaker by the big man and carried through with his dodge, to throw a clumsy kick at his side. It hit with some impact, but not enough to stun the guy.

The winged bard lofted himself into the air, and delivered a wild series of bicycle kicks in the air, most of them going astray and missing, but some of them connecting with the man’s torso.

It wasn’t long, however, until the man was able to get a grip on the avriel. He held him like a farmer might grapple with an errant turkey or chicken, and prepared to smash his frame against the pavement. Kalortah twisted and writhed in his grasp, trying to extricate himself from the grapple. His wings flapped ceaselessly, buffeting the bully’s face with air, while his arms fought against the man’s grip. Though it was mostly futile.

In the end, he knew what he had to do, although it was a tasteless move on his part. He wouldn’t want it done to himself, after all, but the bully left him little choice and was fully open to it.

Kalortah delivered a toe kick to the man’s groin.

The bully almost instantly lost his grip on the avriel. The bard stood triumphantly as he was released, and then shouted to Azrael, ”Finish him! Knock him to the ground!”

[Azrael]

52 Ymiden 720 | Azrael Blackfire | Rharne

The focus of a man who could not breath was unreliable but Azrael had nearly recovered his breath by the time he was called on again. Azrael missed the bicycle kicks and flapping wings of the Avriel in combat because he was on his back with his eyes clenched shut while he refilled his lungs. He rolled over onto all fours and slowly pulled himself up onto his feet using the bar beside him. A few more deep breaths and he opened his eyes to discover the man who'd hit him was in pain, a trill later Azrael realized why. His kick didn't seem to land significantly but the Avriel's had. Azrael's eyes dashed around quickly, looking for a bottle or cup he could crack over the side of the man's head to give more impact than his fist along could but he didn't find one in his first pass so instead he clasped his hands together and swung them like a hammer into the side of the drunk's skull.

The impact was loud and sounded painful. When Azrael withdrew his hands from the hit he shook them both in pain. He hadn't broken anything but clasping your hands together did not make for a good punching form. It made for more force, but force hurt both people involved. He thought about throwing another kick but lost his balance the first time so he waited till the big drunk was grounded before throwing a few kicks into the side of his ribs. He took a winded step back when it was done and nudged Kal.

"We should probably get out of here." Azrael suggested to Kalortah with a wary eye watching the drunk they'd taken down for the moment.

[Kalortah]

Their kick to the family jewels of the brusque bully brought him down at once, even though Kal's fanciful flying kick had only really annoyed him, and didn't do any damage at all other than distracting him. Owing more to his skill at flying than at kicking, he managed to hit with enough force to elicit some pain from the bad guy, or perhaps it was Azrael's kick from behind. Either way, they had the same thought it seemed. It was one of the reasons Azrael was someone Kalortah could respect. He wasn't afraid to let his savagery hang out and do what others weren't willing to do, for fear or reprisal or being misjudged.

He knew he liked Azrael for a reason.

"Let's go to the Flying Moon... I'll buy you a drink and some dinner. It's the least I can do." So saying, Kalortah tucked in his wings beneath a pair of valance, and began leading Azrael out of the bustling crowd in the Earth Quarter, and toward the more tame and calm Glass Quarter. There were brawlers in the Glass Quarter, to be sure, but they were far more discerning toward those they challenged.

In about a break of walking along, they arrived at the establishment which had become one of Kalortah's refuges within Rharne. They at least treated him as an oddity at worst. Kal took a look around the street, making sure there were no rowdy bruisers punching their fists and waiting to jump the nearest outsider. Then he led Azrael inside.

The inside of the Flying Moon was quite well appointed, the smell of delicious food and the sounds of entertainment during Buskerfest, plus the raucous but respectful crowd. But the night was young, and there was still time for people to get drunk and violent. But Kalortah wouldn't worry about that until it became a problem. And hopefully he'd retire to his room in the Flying Moon before then.

He led Azrael to an open table within the common room, a good ways away from the stage where the entertainers were dancing and singing and playing. He waved the server down, "How does roasted pig sound?" He said, asking Azrael. Then when the server arrived at their table, Kal turned to her. She seemed to be acting strangely as she entered Azrael's orbit, but Kal chalked it up to his rough appearance, "I'll have a bottle of Vithella."

"Very good sir, and your friend?..." The server looked to Azrael, wondering what he would choose from their menu.

[Azrael]

52 Ymiden 720 | Azrael Blackfire | Rharne

The Flying Moon? That was a wonderful name for a tavern and Azrael never could turn down a free dinner and a drink. He followed the Avriel with a little excitement as they crossed from one quarter into the next. Azrael thought it was interesting that Rharne was divided in such a way but he also found that he liked it. In Melrath it wasn't always so cut and dry but each quarter of Rharne indicated a certain wealth and quality- meaning he knew he was being treated to something special when Kalortah lead him from the Earth to the Glass rather than to the Dirt. While they walked Azrael wouldn't make any significant conversation other than to commend Kalortah for the song he created and even that was brief so that Azrael could keep his breath about him. Rharne also seemed to have a lot of stairs... or maybe it was the drink... or maybe he really needed to go walking more.

The Buskerfest was a marvel to Azrael and he wished for a world where this was the status quo all the time- everyone basking in the celebration, revelry, and desire, but he knew it could not last. The Flying Moon was more quiet than the Earth Quarter but not by a very noticeable amount. Those inside were more refined too, but the city wide celebration had everything running on another level than usual. Azrael followed Kalortah like a puppy following the smell of bacon as he was lead to a table and they sat down. The singer suggested roasted pig and Azrael gave a small nod in agreement, "It sounds like something I haven't tried before, so I'm interested." That wasn't entirely true, he'd eaten pork before but never quite as it was described on the menu. A server came over and Kalortah ordered quickly putting Azrael on a proverbial hot seat to figure out what he wanted to drink. Azrael played it off, giving the server a quick smile before looking back down at the menu.

One drink name stood out more than the others and Azrael mischievously thought to suggest it to Kalortah before deciding not to. Sesser's Blend. It sounded like it would be fun to try but he noticed it for different reasons before looking to other drinks. There were a lot of options and more than a few Azrael was curious about, but he knew what he wanted when he saw it. "Brandy for me, for now, and I think we settled on the roasted pig too?" Azrael looked to Kalortah for confirmation before peering back down at the menu. He looked up at Kalortah, "Have you ever had Sesser's Blend?"

[Kalortah]

The steps leading up to the Glass Quarter were steep, and took them almost all the way up to the mountain, just a Quarter shy of the summit itself, which would lead into the district where Ilaren's seat of power was. But Kalortah had no intention of going there, not with the extreme prejudice the people of Rharne harbored toward his kind. He was lucky they let him into the Glass Quarter at all! Kalortah was glad of course that Azrael had liked the song that he composed of their adventure. It was a turn of serendipity that brought them to the same spot in Rharne, that was for sure, and to think it happened as he was singing that song? Quite unusual. Kalortah wasn't a great believer in fate, but... There they were.

So after they arrived at the Flying Moon and took their seats, and gave their orders, Kalortah nodded at Azrael's choices of dish and drink. It wasn't too much for his purse, he could afford it. And he wanted to thank the man for saving his hide. He supposed they were more or less even. Even so, he couldn't help but feel a certain kinship toward Azrael, though he couldn't explain from whence it came. Most humans rubbed him the wrong way, but Azrael was at least halfway useful! He also had a certain magnetism, that Kalortah couldn't deny. It was a shame he wasn't born an avriel. He could have been truly great!

When the subject of Sesser's Blend was mentioned, Kalortah had to quirk a brow. As an Avriel who grew up in Athart, he had a passing familiarity with Syroa, being the only Immortal that the Avriel even showed deference to. Thus his intrigue was piqued by Azrael's mention of Sesser's Blend, the namesake of her marked. "Do you want to try it? It's a very strong and intoxicating drink. Only the oldest and most sophisticated drunks can handle it. You shall have a bottle. And we can share a glass? I doubt either one of us can handle a full one." He turned to the waitress, and furrowed his brow, "Get him the best brandy too, none of the cheap stuff."

The waitress suppressed a roll of her eyes and went off to fill their order.

Kalortah smirked in mischief, as he sent along the order to the waitress, for an entire bottle of the stuff for him to take home, while they'd be given a few shots of the stuff as a sample.

The avriel tapped his fingers against the table, waiting impatiently for their drinks to arrive, while the food cooked. "It shouldn't take long, the service here is impeccable. Now, what have you been up to in the meantime since we saw each other last? It's been ages... not since Yaralon and the Broken Blade keep?"

Whether he answered or not, and whether it was truthful, their drinks came. The food wasn't ready, obviously, and still had to be prepared. So the glass of Vithella, the glass of Brandy, and a bottle and small shotglasses full of Sesser's Blend were set before them, on the table. Kalortah had to admit some curiosity at the Sesser's Blend, but also trepidation. Nevertheless, he added his shot to the Vithella that had been delivered to him.

With a lift of his glass, he brought it to his lips, and began drinking the wine. At first, it didn't hit him, it merely tasted very nice and with a strong herbal undertone. He looked at Azrael, and nodded, "I'm not seeing purple elephants yet. Try it!"

[Azrael]

52 Ymiden 720 | Azrael Blackfire | Rharne

It was hard not to like someone like Kalortah when you were in Azrael's position unless you were already negatively inclined towards the bird people. The singer was practically showering Azrael with gifts, at least that was how someone who spent most of their time on the road and in cheap ins saw it. A bottle of brandy and Sesser's Blend? Azrael rarely refused something he was given for free. He didn't always keep it, but more often than not he took it so he was not going to say no to alcohol. Kalortah asked if Azrael wanted to try it in the same set of breaths as he ordered it so Azrael nodded along with an attractive grin on his face. What was the worst that could happen? "I'll try anything once and we've faced worse danger so why not?" Azrael watched the waitress as she walked away to retrieve their order for a few trills before his eyes found his still speaking friend.

When it came to his companions opinion of the service, Azrael knew little more than that he wasn't one to judge. He knew more than most how easily you could become distracted while working and while he didn't like how it affected him at times, he didn't mind enough to complain most of the time. In general slow service gave him more time to talk to whoever he was with. Kalortah asked what he'd been up to since Yaralon and the Broken Blade keep where they met and Azrael's grin widened a little more so that his mouth opened just slightly at the corner. "Everything and nothing at the same time," Azrael said, "Eventually I grew tired of the men trying to duel me when I didn't have a sword on so I left Yaralon and travelled a little. Spent a little time here and there, a lot of time in Melrath. I heard some stories about Rharne and decided to pay it a visit but I'll be going back to Melrath once all this is over. It's a nice place- I'm not sure you'd like it but it has some charms."

Their drinks arrived and Kalortah added his shot to the wine he'd ordered. Azrael hadn't considered that. He always just downed his shots and let them hit him hard but maybe it would do something for the taste to mix it. He poured his shot of Sesser's Blend in his brandy and when Kalortah implored him too, he raised his glass and took a sip with little trepidation at all. It had an interesting taste, certainly weaker than it would have if he'd just done the shot but his palate wasn't so refined that he could really divide the blend from the brandy. He did know he liked it though. "No am I." Azrael replied in regards to purple elephants. He looked in his glass, grinned and then looked back up to Kalortah, "The night is young, I'm sure we'll see them before it is out. What about you, what have you been up to since Yaralon?"