|
Post by Vindus on Apr 15, 2005 23:19:28 GMT -5
*Massive portals open and close as the ships in the river are drawn in and slip out of Eluria. Along the edges of the river are many docks some with ships in them and some without. The ships range from tiny skiffs to massive Dreadnaughts. Most are of the standard sea sailing type while some very rare ones are sky/sea ships. The docks lead out into the main Market of the Bazaar after passing through some customs and a minor detail of security*
|
|
|
Post by Vindus on Apr 15, 2005 23:31:09 GMT -5
*One of many portals in this water opens up and lets in a medium sized skyship shaped like a boat. It slides up to a slip and docks, activity follows as passangers and cargo are unloaded. Among them is a short man in leathere scale armor and a youthful Nezumi is plain clothes. She is carrying a pack she is muttering about its weight*
"Now now Mat'tch is that anyway to thank me for geting you out of that dangerous place?"
*She mutters 'no' and Vindus smiles*
"There's a girl, now we have some things to check up on before I start showing you how to make contacts."
*She nods and they go through customs. Vindus shows that his blade is noleathel before they pass into the main city. He and Mat'tch move quickly and purpousfully through the city*
|
|
|
Post by Veritas Vellendus on Apr 26, 2005 18:27:33 GMT -5
Veritas makes his way through the docks, apologizing from time to time when bumped against someone else. Which happens pretty often on docks, especially ones as busy as these. Veritas sighed. He had always felt more comfortable on a deck then on land. It was just easier to move with the water than it was to just walk with something that was so stationary.
He glanced around and found a group of people loading a ship. He headed in that direction, to see if he could tag along... by offering some services.
|
|
Sebrintai
Full Member
Betwixt a Lady and the 'Loths?
Posts: 101
|
Post by Sebrintai on Apr 30, 2005 11:34:16 GMT -5
*There is the faint smell of a cigarette around Veritas. Not terribly far off stands a Halfling woman in oriental garb. She takes a pull of the cigarette and smiles to herself.*
|
|
|
Post by Veritas Vellendus on May 1, 2005 11:28:06 GMT -5
Veritas coughs and waves his hand from side to side, trying to clear the smoke that was coming towards him. He hated those things so very much.
He watches the woman for a little bit. As far as he knew, she was just another person on the docks... and his sight did not pick up any of the darkness that followed those with foul hearts.
He continued towards the ships, coughing from time to time. He hesitates for a moment, wondering about something... and then turns and walks back. When he reaches the woman, he smiles and begins to speak. After the coughing, he tries again.
Hello. I know this will sound weird, but what do you think truth is? How important is it to you?
|
|
Sebrintai
Full Member
Betwixt a Lady and the 'Loths?
Posts: 101
|
Post by Sebrintai on May 4, 2005 6:21:29 GMT -5
*The woman laughs and drops her cigarette. She puts it out with her heel.*
What makes you think truth exists at all?
|
|
|
Post by Veritas Vellendus on May 4, 2005 13:12:23 GMT -5
Veritas smiles to himself.
A certainty, a feeling that always confirms it. That, and there are small truths every day.
Thank you for your time, miss.
He turns and walks away from the halfling, heading towards the ships again.
|
|
Sebrintai
Full Member
Betwixt a Lady and the 'Loths?
Posts: 101
|
Post by Sebrintai on May 4, 2005 20:27:32 GMT -5
Of course. We all know worms cannot walk.
*She smiles and lights another cigarette.*
You're welcome.
*She turns away.*
|
|
|
Post by Veritas Vellendus on May 4, 2005 20:30:52 GMT -5
Veritas stops dead in his tracks.
...unforutnately, some had the will to find legs.
Then he continues on.
|
|
Sebrintai
Full Member
Betwixt a Lady and the 'Loths?
Posts: 101
|
Post by Sebrintai on May 4, 2005 20:42:05 GMT -5
*She looks at her cigarette.*
There is no truth, Veritas. There is only the collective subjectivity, which is always in motion. Even the simple things of every day are different to any and all who perceive them. What you call truth is a flux of perceptions, a collection of individual sensations and thoughts that is not the same between any two people at any one time, or for one person at two different moments in their life. Truth is an ideal, not an actuality. The collective balance of subjectivity is there to change, to be meddled with, to be manipulated or mistaken as each individual sees fit. The universality of truth that you hope to find is an illusion, a sustaining delusion that many people somehow need to give their lives a meaning and a perspective, but when all is said and done it cannot exist. You are wasting your life, boy.
|
|
|
Post by Veritas Vellendus on May 7, 2005 16:36:25 GMT -5
He didn't seem too surprised by her knowing his name. He just stopped and turned.
Many can observe the same truth, and whether or not it is different for each person, it is true for that person. Truth is not always as it seems, however.
As for the truth I seek, I will probably never find it in my lifetime. That will never stop me from looking, however. Perhaps one day, I will stumble upon it. If I am wasting my life, it is mine to waste.
Good day, ma'am.
Veritas once again heads towards the boats, frowning when he notices the one he had in mind shipping off. He stepped towards another.
|
|
Sebrintai
Full Member
Betwixt a Lady and the 'Loths?
Posts: 101
|
Post by Sebrintai on May 19, 2005 10:41:25 GMT -5
Farewell, Paladin.
*Sebrintai takes another pull of the cigarette and walks away slowly. She wanders past the docks and watches all the work going on both on land and on water.
The sun shines in the water, making it seem oddly bright against the blue sky. It reflects on the red silk suit, and it is caught in her pit-black eyes- but not reflected out of them.
She blows out the smoke through her nose and watches it disperse. Even cigarette smoke looks beautiful somehow with the sun on it, like a blue veil that dances for only a moment in time before it fades. She raises her hand and touches it, half wishing to freeze this moment in time, but before her hand has reached the shimmering blue it has gone.
The Halfling woman sits down, her short legs over the edge of the quay. They are too short to reach the water, and she swings them carelessly. She leans back, supporting herself with one hand while she holds the cigarette close to her face with the other one. The sun shines on her black hair and makes it looks as silken as her clothes.
Truth... There is no such thing. This day is so beatiful to her, but it might be misery to others... People are dying this day, people are hurt this day. The beauty of the water and the air is odious to a Modron, the sailors on their boats are ugly to a snob, the bright golden light is torture to the shadows that inhabit the light.
She takes a pull of the cigarette and wonders idly whether there is a vampire somewhere near here that stands in the dark of an obscured room and looks out longingly into the long-lost light of day. She smiles.
Somewhere, so close and yet unimaginably far, she knows that this day there is another great battle. It has been long since she went to the Wastes, and she isn't planning to return there all too soon. But she remembers the smell so vividly, the sight of gore, the sounds of carnage... Somehow, there is beauty there too.
Sebrintai pitches the end of her cigarette into the harbour. It creates growing rings on the water before a ship passes and destroys the rings with the waves of its passing. Truth... She runs her hand through her hair. It is warming up. To some this is a beautiful day to live... To others, a fine day to die.
She leans down all the way and ends up lying on the quay with her legs still over the edge. She puts her arms under her head and stares up at the blue sky. A bird passes overhead. Sebrintai closes her eyes to enjoy the warm sunshine. What would it feel like, she muses, to have a soul...*
|
|
|
Post by Methren Zur'an on Feb 4, 2006 7:30:29 GMT -5
Methren Zur'an hisses at the man between her bright white teeth. They stand out all the more against her blood red lips and pitch black skin. Her long white hair hangs in a braid on her fine red jacket. She points a black finger at the man- red nailpolish, several silver rings.
"Don't botherr me! Go away!"
Her voice is harsh and her teeth click together sharply. The man, a Human in his late twenties, laughs grimly and weighs the stone in his hand. He has a very square chin and he is wearing sailors' clothes.
"Filthy Elf. They should've put you all down."
Behind him are some four other guys. Methren feels the bricks of the building, hard against her shoulder blades. She hisses again, like a cat in a tight spot, and her eyes flash around for a way out. There does not seem to be any...
|
|
|
Post by Jingzu Lunaria on Feb 4, 2006 14:47:32 GMT -5
"Hey hey, none of that!" A man in the dock division armor of the Guard stepped forward, his halberd brandished. Luckily for Methren Zur'an, the Dock was one of the most heavily patrolled places in all of Eluria, up and down the river. "Step away from the Drow, gentlemen."
This guard had wild green and blue hair, with neither rhyme nor reason to what color went where. It was as if someone took a couple of strands here and there and painted them one color while doing the other occasional strand as something completely different. His eyes were somewhere between blue and green.
|
|
|
Post by Methren Zur'an on Feb 4, 2006 14:51:56 GMT -5
The man glances over at the guard and sneers.
"Council's orders I bet. C'mon, give us a break here. It's an Elf!"
Methren hisses at the sailor and tries to get closer to the guard, but one of the other men sets a threatening foot in her way. She retreats to her wall.
|
|