A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Nowan on 26-03-2011, 22:49:11</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>26-03-2011, 22:49:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cederius couldn't believe it until he saw it, his mother had cut up the Elder Staff, an artifact of thousands of years and of untold power, and used it for firewood. For weeks he had been preparing the rite; he had already sold important parts of the family history as bulk-paper to afford the right type of crushed mineral dust to form the circle needed for the levitation ritual but now he had no staff. He needed the levitation spell to be able to reach the upper parts of the Tariq tower where the wooden spiral staircase had long since rotted but without the staff it would not happen. He had read the family history to find out what could be stored towards the top of the tower, the texts were vague but they hinted of objects of incredible power.<br><br>He took a long deep breath and reminded himself that family came first, even though he often felt that had more in common with his dead ancestors than the pitiful creatures that were his now living family. His father had died from the stress that had came from the dishonor of having to do manual labour for a living. His grandfather still lived but most of the time his eyes were hazy and he was gone in rememberance of the family's days of glory. In one sense he had more in common with his mother; he was a survivor, he had already faced the worst of shame, the loss of place in the guild of magiks and his inability to perform the Passing of the Staff before his father's death.<br><br>In absolute amazement at what his mother had done he passed his hand through his unkempt greyish-white hair, a by-product of a failed earlier attempt at a spell of metamorphosis. He slumped from his otherwise strong bearing; tall and rather thin but with a wiry strong frame from performing the manly duties of the household from an early age. His face, rather fair with washed out greenish brown eyes that gives the feeling that he is hiding something slumped at the whole impossibility of it all.<br><br>With the levitation spell again without reach he decided he would have to go about it in a more common way, he would have to get climbing equipment, rope, ladders and metal pins to insert in between the stonework. However to get all this he needed to do some work or sell something. His family had already maxed out their credit with lenders. Lenders who had only left them alone because of the common fear of the tower and its curse.<br><br>He decided to leave the tower to think, the summer heat hadn't come yet and the streets were still walkable so he wen't strolling through the tight dusty lanes with the afternoon sun visable against the highest parts of the sand-coloured facades but not reaching as far down as the alley.<br><br>He soon reached the large bazaar by the river-front where all manners of ships are unloading their wares. Voices shout out their deals, hoping to sell of their goods before the approaching night. With a only a few copper coins in his pocket he decides to not listen to his grumbeling stomach, instead looking around for a way to make money. Sitting himself down by a barrel he drew his old deck of card from a pocket. He was always amazed by the foolishness of new arrivals to the city. Laying down three cards on the barrel he surveyed the crowd for a victim. If only he could show them the real power of his family instead of this slight of hand. It would have to wait.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>27-03-2011, 13:44:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				One day after the next the same faces with the same bored expressions weaved their way through the streets of the bazaar. Merchants trying to make a few coins, would be thieves seeing who they could take and for what, grifters at every corner, it was all so trite and predictable. Some days Cassandra found she loved walking these streets and others, like today, she was bored and restless and that never led to anything good for the person who attracted her attention. <br><br>She reasoned it wasn't her fault, had she been taught how to harness her abilities better, there would be less risk of people getting hurt when she took them for whatever they had on them. She tried not to let any guilt seep in when she thought of the man whose mind had gone completely blank when she'd tried to erase her from his memory or any of the others like him. There were many things that could be called in to question on her character, but she never set out intentionally to damage people, simply to take from them what she could to survive. Survival had been the only game she'd ever truly won at, but she was restless and wanted more. <br><br>Her green eyes scanned the crowd as she had her long black hair tied back under a scarf. The less people could see of her the better. She was slight and willowy in build, and often underestimated as weak for it, but she hid herself under layers of flowing clothes and heavy jewelry, though nothing of real value, to help mask who she was. There was only one thing she saw from those who could be deemed as marks that she truly envied and no amount of her untrained abilities were going to give it to her, respect. <br><br>Cassandra shook the unpleasant thoughts from her mind, they wouldn't do her any good and as she was starting to get low on money, why she'd come out to the bazaar that day, it was time to earn a little more. She spotted a strange looking man across the way who was setting up for a card game. She couldn't think why but she felt almost drawn to him, and he was as good as any other to take his money away. After a few minutes of just watching him she made her way over.<br><br>"How much to play?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>28-03-2011, 01:08:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cederius couldn't believe it until he saw it, his mother had cut up the Elder Staff and used it for firewood. For weeks he had been preparing the rites. He had already sold important parts of the family history as bulk-paper to afford the right type of crushed mineral dust to form the circle needed for the levitation ritual but now he had no staff. He needed the levitation spell to be able to reach the upper parts of the Tariq tower where the wooden spiral staircase had long since rotted. <br><br>He took a long deep breath and reminded himself that family came first, even though he often had more in common with his dead ancestors than the pityfull creatures that were his now living family. His father had died from the stress that had came from the dishonour of having to do manual labour for a living. His grandfather still lived but most of the time his eyes were hazy and he was gone in rememberance of the families days of glory. In one sense he had more in common with his mother. He was a survivor, he had already faced the worst of shame, the loss of place in the guild of magiks and his inability to perform the Passing of the Staff before his father's death.<br><br>In absolute amazement at what his mother had done he passed his hand through his unkempt greyish-white hair, a by-product of a failed earlier attempt at a spell of metamorphosis. He is tall and rather thin but with a wiry strong frame from performing the manly duties of the household from an early age. His face is rather fair with washed out greenish brown eyes that gives the feeling that he is hiding something.<br><br>With the levitation spell again without reach he decided he would have to go about it in a more common way, he would have to get climbing equipment, rope, ladders and metal pins to insert in between the stonework. However to get all this he needed to do some work or sell something. His family had already maxed out their credit with lenders. Lenders who had only left them alone because of the common fear of the tower and its curse.<br><br>He decided to leave the tower to think, the summer heat hadn't come yet and the streets were still walkable so he wen't strolling through the tight dusty lanes with the afternoon sun visable against the highest parts of the sand-coloured facades but not reaching as far down as the alley.<br><br>He soon reached the large bazaar by the river-front where all manners of ships are unloading their wares. Voices shout out their deals, hoping to sell of their goods before the approaching night. With a only a few copper coins in his pocket he decides to not listen to his grumbeling stomach, instead looking around for a way to make money. Sitting himself down by a barrel he drew his old deck of card from a pocket. He was always amazed by the foolishness of new arrivals to the city. Laying down three cards on the barrel he surveyed the crowd for a victim. If only he could show them the real power of his family instead of this slight of hand. It would have to wait.<br><br>The sun was lying low over the river and his Cederius pockets where getting a bit heavier. It had been good picking during the afternoon and he had enough to retire for the night and bring back a little to the family. The trick was to give up before there was trouble, before someone with a bad temper wanted to check his deck, or before the police or someone smarter than him came along.<br><br>He was sitting on one barrel and had the cards on the other, his tan-colored robe hung cowering the barrel, under it he wore uncolored cotton trousers and a tunik in the same material - far from flashy but good in the heat of Hazidapur. Just as he was about to collect his cards the woman who, he had noticed, had been watching him for a little while approached him. <br><br>In the interest of regaining the glory of his family he had been forced to sacrifice many other smaller desires, one of these being women. This girl however made him for a moment regret himself. He had to steel his mind and remember what was most important. The girl smelled of trouble and he should have been leaving but he could for the life of him not make himself get up and go. <br><br>Her voice was attractive and her clothing made her look mystical. Perhaps she was a grifter herself, he guessed there would only be one way to know. In a slower than usual voice he made his usual speil. <br><br>"Only a copper dinar, sister, and you look like a smart one, I bet you could win. All you have to do is find the Queen, nothing could be simpler."<br><br>He stared into her eyes as he shuffled the cards and showed her the queen among the three cards on the barrel. The trick was in changing the card in the last moment so that there was no chance the guesser got the right one. A bit of misdirection and confusion was all it took to switch the cards without notice.<br><br>He moved the cards around on the table, fast but not too fast to make her loose track, he wanted her to play more than once. Then he just slightly touched her wrist with one hand and switched the card with the other hand. As he touched her wrist he felt something, something out of place, a surge of energy, he hoped she hadn't noticed it or the switch. <br><br>He cleared his throat, part of his mind still occupied with the wierd sense in his fingertips. <br>"Where's the queen, madame?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>29-03-2011, 00:30:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fishing a coin from her pocket, Cassandra placed it down and watched intently as he moved the cards around. She knew the game well though and knew at some point in this the car would be switched out. Of course, she thought smugly, she would be doing a little switching it back in herself when she chose the card in question. She did the taking, she did 'not' get taken. When his hand touched her wrist, just the faintest tap, her hand felt warm and tingled. It wasn't a sensation she could recall having before and it was a little unnerving. <br><br>A small spark came from her fingertip as she tapped the card on her right.<br><br>"That's the queen" <br><br>And of course once he turned it over, he would find indeed she had switched the cards back. This was the part she loved the most, so much so that she was able to put her uneasiness to the side. The look of shock on their faces, the quick glances they made to where they had hidden the real queen card as they looked back at the deck on the table. She couldn't be accused of anything, clearly it was their deck. The only part more gratifying was taking their money.<br><br>Her eyes narrowed a bit as she waited, clearly he was distracted by something and it had little to do with the cards in front of them. She was tempted to walk away, but still felt a pull towards him that she couldn't try to explain to herself, she simply let it be. <br><br>"Well, is it there?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>29-03-2011, 18:30:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He had done the normal moves and it didn't seem like she had seen the switch but as he turned the card over expecting the see the four of diamond the queen of spades where staring him right in the face. There was no way she could have switched the cards on him, the deck was marked. Had he made a misstake or was there something to this girl that he hadn't seen. He scratched his slight stubble. His serious outside and the greyish hair made him seem much older than he was, he was a few years from thirty but his family history had taken its toll on him. <br><br>He blinked, mulling over the possiblities. There were very few who had the touch anymore, and none of them would be out walking the bazaar, they were all getting fat at the guild's table. He had to find out what was going on.<br><br>He looked up smiling. "You are lucky, sister, here's your winning". <br><br>He gave her a heavy silver dinar, the whole gain of the day, but not before uttering a few words under his breath, a short easy incantation. He noticed it working as he put the coin in the soft palm of the girl, suddenly she started to smell increadibly well, not that she hadn't before but now it cut through every other smell and he knew he could now follow her at a distance without being seen and without loosing her. It was if the smell, of jasmine and honey, was as apparent as a colour, a streak of lilac and gold.<br><br>"You will have to come back tomorrow to try your luck again, it seems the gods favour you today and not me."<br><br>He collected the cards and stood up as to mark that the discussion was over, now he was just waiting to see where she would go, he needed to know more and didn't want her to know of his curiosity. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>30-03-2011, 21:16:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was disappointed, it had been far easier to put a glamour on the card to turn it to a queen than she had thought, and hoped she would have been able to take him for more of his coin, but she would settle with her one win and be happy. Afterall, a win was a win. <br><br>Making her way through the streets and heading away from the bazaar, Cassandra headed towards an old boarding house on the edge of the small town. It was dirty and overcrowded, but it was cheap and no one bothered her and let her keep to herself. She never got close to anyone, that was the surest way to get hurt. Hadn't she learned that lesson over and over again? So many memories she'd blocked from her mind, refusing to think about them. It was easier to say that her life began the day she'd gotten her freedom, than the day she had been born. <br><br>As she got closer to the boarding house, she saw two young girls huddled together for warmth. It wasn't that cold out, in actuality it was rather warm, but they looked underdressed and underfed. Walking over to them she grasped the hand of the older one and put the coin she'd gotten from the man at the bazaar into her palm. <br><br>"Eat well tonight"<br><br>In another life, it could have been her she thought. She had no real need of the money, she always got by. She was a survivor.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>30-03-2011, 23:58:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was easy to follow the trace of her scent. Through the otherwise smelly bazaar his nose showed the way of jasmine glinting like gold in the other wise multi-colored, but mostly brownish-green, smell. He pushed his way through the jumble of human wreckage lining the alleyways of the darkening city. He held his robe to himself as he entered the the poorer parts of town and he had to remind himself that he was himself poor as the temple rat and not worth mugging, and anyway, he could protect himself if need be. He felt the reassuring weight of the dagger on his belt inside the robe, curved and with intricate patterns on the hilt, made for ceremony but that didn't make it less sharp.<br><br>He felt the scent getting stronger which meant she must have stopped, then it turned, becoming different, less alluring and weaker. He picked up his pace and reached the source, two huddled beggars. Without a hint of guilt he pried up the hand of one of the girls, showing the heavy silver coin while the scared girls looked on.&nbsp; Pressing the girl's wrist he questioned her if she was a pick-pocket but she didn't seem the type. He weighed the coin in his hand before tossing it back to them.<br><br>The girl he was following was either rich or foolish. Suddenly he thought he saw something out of the side of the eye, a flutter of silk scarves, he took off, on the hunt again, more intrigued than ever, down another narrow street.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 16:28:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She hadn't gotten as far as she had by not being completely aware of her surroundings, so when she picked up on the fact that she was being followed, her destination altered from the boarding house to a small alley a few streets over. She wasn't afraid of some thug who might try to harm her, she had ways of protecting herself. Of course, the few times she'd had to, there had been some unfortunate collateral damage, but it hadn't been her fault, she was still trying to get a grasp on what she could do and it was a learning process. <br><br>Waiting in a darkened spot in the alley, she waited until the person following her had turned the corner and come into the light where she could see him. It was a surprise that it had been the man from the bazaar. Was he hoping to get his money back? Good luck she thought, she'd already given that money away. <br><br>Stepping out behind him she wondered if she shouldn't have tried to put her hands on something to protect herself with if she had to. Using her abilities for small things was one thing, it was quite another face to face against someone. <br><br>"Why are you following me?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 18:03:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He considered fleeing, he considered fighting, he considered lying. His attempt to lie low and observe had been ruined and he was angry at himself for being so clumsy. <br><br>The alley was dark but from before he could tell that she was slight, in hand to hand he figured that he could probably win, but why fight her? <br><br>Finally he opted for honesty.<br><br>"There is no way to win my card game, it is rigged. So how in the name of the almighty did change my deck?" <br><br>He took a few steps forward, the gap between them now only a meter or two. He focused his mind, trying to shake her up by a few simple tricks, making the wind pick up in the dark empty alley, creating little swirls of dust around them.<br><br>"What are you?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>31-03-2011, 21:59:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His question threw her off guard, as did the closeness that was there since he closed the gap between them. For the second time that day she felt the odd pull towards him and she couldn't explain it, and if there was one thing Cassandra hated, it was being unprepared for something. <br><br>She would not allow herself to be thrown off guard by him again though. It only took a moment for her to clear her mind and regain her composure. Looking at him closer now, she saw that he was actually a good deal younger than she'd initially thought, though easily almost a decade her senior. Why did she feel such a strong pull towards him though, it was unnerving. <br><br>"So you've come to confront me because you tried to cheat me?"<br><br>It was almost laughable, and yet, she couldn't help but wonder if he had known what she did, had seen the spark when she touched the card. Was that the real reason he followed her? To see what he could get from her?<br><br>"What am I? I am simply someone who you were unable to cheat"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>02-04-2011, 17:43:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cederius soon realized that they could stand there and be vary of each other for ever to no use. He decided to lower his guard a little.<br><br>"I don't care about the money, and you did seem too smart to be fooled by an old con. I just think I saw something. Something in your fingers and in your touch made me curious. You are not the only one with talents, you know?"<br><br>He lowered his shoulders and turned his body as if to leave but as an afterthought he turned his eyes to her again, not only for academic curiosity but also because of the attraction of her mysteriousness.<br><br>"Perhaps I was mistaken or maybe you do not care, and I am not one to pry, I will leave you alone if you wish. Just remember that you have a gift, you shouldn't undervalue it."<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>02-04-2011, 22:19:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Wait, don't go yet"<br><br>He had seen the spark when she touched the cards, had seen it and if she wasn't mistaken, recognized it for what it was. Someone else who knew what she had or what she could do, it was something she'd been looking for as long as she could remember. Now that she was faced with someone who might answer a question or two, afterall he'd sought her out, she wasn't about to let him just walk away and vanish into the night air.<br><br>"What do you know of my....talents or....gift as you put it?"<br><br>While she knew her voice was coming through as strong as she wanted, in her eyes was just the faintest spark of hope or desperation for answers. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nowan</strong> on <strong>03-04-2011, 23:00:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cederius grinned a little, showing broad, symmetrical but&nbsp; a little miscoloured teeth in a large mouth.<br><br>"So you know you have a gift, but perhaps you do not know all about it. Interesting."<br><br>It was dark now and he needed to get back, there was a need of some serious preparations to be done. He had just had an idea of how to use this opportunity of another gifted individual to be able to complete his own plans. <br><br>"I can tell you more, but not now, and not here. There is an abandoned storage building down by the dock, I will mark its door with a red ring. Be there at sunset tomorrow, be rested and well fed."<br><br>Cederius turned and left, walking back towards the tower, checking now and then if he was followed. <br><br>(If you want then we can just fast-forward to evening next day)
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: A Hazidapur Tale (FLN826 and Nowan)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Daeva</strong> on <strong>04-04-2011, 00:11:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra spent the night and most of the day thinking of all the reasons going to meet this strange man was a bad idea. It was a trick, he was going to hurt her, he was going to use her for something other than to give her information or answers. There were a ton of reasons not to go and only one to go. And the one to go was worth all the risk involved.<br><br>She dressed in a simple black dress that flowed freely when she moved and pulled her hair back away from her face letting a few tendrils curl and frame it. Normally this time of day she would be out heading towards the tavern. There was always a man who would willingly buy her a drink and leave his coin purse behind. At least he was willing to a point, most of the time they never realized it was missing. Another skill she'd picked up a long the way while learning to survive.<br><br>As she headed down to the docks, the warning bells in her mind were going off at an alarming rate, but she pushed herself forward. She never gave in to fear and she never ran from a challenge or a desire. He had answers that she desperately needed and wanted. And if he didn't, if he were playing a game with her mind, he would sorely regret it. With a deep breath, she pushed open the marked door and stepped inside.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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