Isolation(solo)

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Silaqui Falone
Approved Character
Posts: 44
Joined: Thu Jul 26, 2018 1:12 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Unemployed
Renown: 0
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Wealth Tier: Tier 1

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Isolation(solo)

47 Ashan, 719

Silaqui had tucked herself back into a dark corner. For whatever reason after recovering her possessions from that fish wreaking city of Yithril she'd decided to travel most of the way across the known world to reach this immortal forsaken hell hole in the trees. Normally, this would be a boon for her. She was a a hunter after all. Or, she had been, rather. One mistake had cost her most of her left arm and the sight in her right eye. She could see in a way out of it but she may as well have gouged the thing out for how little good it did her. So with some spare clothe, a former decorative wrap that one would loosely wrap about their neck, she'd fashioned, as best she could with one hand, an eye patch. They eye, from what she could tell as she was no doctor or healer of any kind, was normal looking but it messed with her depth perception. Because it didn't show anything clearly till she was nearly standing on it she had trouble navigating packed situations.

A ruined eye was one thing, plenty of people were missing eyes or had a dead or damaged one floating in their head. Thats not what ground at her guts the most about the fiasco at sea. It was the arm. With both arms and a dead eye she could have learned to shoot through the remaining good eye. With both arms she could have managed to find another trade. Now, as she sat under her oil clothe cloak, she was, as far as her opinion went, worthless. At least it had not been her dominant hand that had gotten blown off. Had it been she wouldn't have been sitting in the darkness of the alcove in which she sat. She'd have tossed herself immediately from that floating piece of debris. That had been some time ago. The accident and everything that had happened since. Despite it all she couldn't answer the question of why she hadn't chucked herself into the sea anyways? Her career was over now. One couldn't be an archer with only one arm. One could operate a crossbow. Crossbows were the peasants weapon. A weapon given to the unskilled because its use was self explanatory and required minimal training to become proficient with. She'd never lay her hands on one unless it was to pitch it into a fire for warmth. With all that considered why hadn't she found a way to end it all?

On her boat trip here she'd carefully learned how to wrap a shawl about her shoulders so it hung in such a way to hide the wrecked stump of her arm. Her eyes winced slightly, as a wave of phantom pain shot across the remains of the limb. She kept her hood up and positioned so her face wasn't easily viewed and at best one might see her chin and mouth in the dim light that filled this spot she'd selected. In her lap, beneath her cloak, rested a knife. It was less of a knife and more of a dagger but that didn't matter. It was a sharp piece of steel designed to kill a person. Thats what it was. And the only reason she had it in her lap was she knew no one in the settlement. She didn't wish to either. She didn't care either.

She could get to her feet at any moment. Wander to where she had stashed her horse and cart and head off to some unknown destination. Or she could climb as high up into this is city into the tree as she could without he left arm and just step off the edge of a balcony and plummet to the forest floor bellow. No one would care. They'd hardly notice besides the digging of her grave and then depositing her blackened bones into it.Perhaps someone would be shocked by it. Perhaps not. It didn't matter. Her career. Everything. Was over.

Yet, for whatever reason she had, she could find no reason and hadn't found one since that boat had plucked her from the sea, she kept eating. She kept drinking. She kept living. Was she blessed by some being? Was there some force that had plans for her yet? Was this luck? Was she so unlucky that when her time had come she'd blundered just enough to some how live? Whatever the case was. She was alive and sitting her staring through her one good eye at the people who moved about in front of her. If she didn't decide to find a way to shed this mortal coil she'd need to find some way to get something done about removing what was left of her mangled arm or fix it. The eye as far as she knew was a complete write off as well. It didn't cause her pain though so it could stay. A change in career would be in order. Probably. Almost definitely.

Absently she rolled the handle of her knife in her hand. She could just feel the oblong handle roll and change direction. And because if it she knew exactly where the edge was. Another turn and the edge was facing towards her. Another and it was away. Over and over she turned it. Over and over it faced to her and then away. She'd take a hand at throwing it at something but she had little money to spare. Replacing a knife like this one would not be cheap so there it stayed on her lap, warmed by the heat from her body.

It'd be dark soon and the end of a cycle. Or season or whatever. She supposed some people would be celebrating it. So she'd likely want to start finding a more isolated spot to sit in. Away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Away from anyone who'd wish to try and talk to her. Away from the noise. If she had both arms she'd have left and found a cave or hollow tree or something to stay in but with only one hand she couldn't risk it. So she was almost forced to stay in this town. Not like she could head back to her homeland. The woman who'd birthed her was there and would have something to say about her injuries. None of it kind or sympathetic. She'd had no words of that variety when Silaqui had been young. Why would she have those words now? So returning back to her birthplace was never an option even if she had both hands and her eye wasn't ruined.

Standing, her right hand gripped the knifes handle loosely yet firmly, and she turned away from the going ons in the populace around her. She stepped into the darkness that extended behind where she had been seated and moved deeper in. The light was for everyone else. The darkness was for Naerikk's. Even a mangled one such as herself.
word count: 1205

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