Ayuen
Tinker Spring, The Grey Crown, The Grasping Isle
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/926707024362885130/1045841100604186624/Ayuen-WayX.png]
Although they had travelled past Tinkersong before they went up the mountain for the Clasp’s Spring, Ayuen hadn’t had the chance to walk around in the actual village itself. Especially with the prospect of a warm soft bed soon. Quickly, the group checked on the horses at the town’s stables, the beasts still chewing their hay merrily. They quickly paid the stable’s owner a few more silver palms to cover the costs of a slightly longer stay, making their way to the local inn with a spring in their step.
The four of them practically burst into Tinkersong’s main tavern, the Turning Prong. Inside, the air was cosy and warm, a far cry from the colder winds that flowed from the mountains to bring the chill into their bones. A big fire roared in the fireplace and the place was filled with merry people having a good time. Immediately, they each ordered a full plate of food and a well-filled mug of drink. Ayuen went for a mug of wine after a brief hesitation. She figured something stronger than usual would be a nice change.
Despite his awkward demeanour, Sneak proved to be quite the joy to hang around with. His quirky way of speech and near-insane yet friendly disposition proved to be rather endearing. He enthusiastically told stories about his life of travelling the roads of Iugon, before he ended up in this remote neck of the woods. She took his rambling with a large pinch of salt. According to his stories, Sneak had slept with a woman made of fire, slain a bird with five wings and forged the greatest pitchfork ever known to man. Of course, he traded for a wheel of cheese, because you had to have priorities. They were fantastical and funny, but nobody seemed to believe them anyway. Which was more than fine. Her poems often also held a rather fantastic essence within them.
Outside, the sun began to set and darkness set in over the village and the mountains. Trïeste headed to bed early, mumbling something about dizziness and a warm head, an empty mug of spiced wine rolling over next to her seat. With a smile and a laugh, Ayuen bid her companion good night, opting to stick around for a while longer. Rove’s happy mood proved to be only temporary, the Herhor ending up in a corner by his lonesome, scowling at the tavern. Meanwhile, she and Sneak made the best of their easy evening, drinking and joking around. All in all, good times, even though she found herself wishing the Herhor would've joined her.
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A while later, the tavern’s patrons going home one by one, Ayuen noticed that Sneak’s attention got pulled to the window. Following his gaze, she just about saw a hooded figure disappearing into the dark, dark green cloak billowing behind them.
She had a fair bit to drink, but she was still a ways off from getting properly drunk or wasted. Instead, she enjoyed the buzz in her system, her wings lazily twitching underneath her mantle.
“What’s the… the matter, sir Sneak?” She said, breaking off her sentence to clear her throat from a stray drop of wine. “Observing the spectres outside?”
“Sneak sees a lot, but no spectres. Sneak has to take care of… hick… somethin’. Sneak be right back.”
With one last big gulp, the man emptied the rest of his ale, wiping the drops from his scruffy black beard while he let out a soft belch. The man then made his wobbly way out of the establishment. She gave him a small wave, giggling a little bit.
“Have a nice trip, sir Sneak!” A hand rested on her shoulder as soon as she said that. Rove looked at the exit where Sneak just disappeared from with a grim expression on his face.
“Why the grim look on your face, Rove?” She leaned against him a little bit, ears twitching curiously. “Are you unable to lighten up for an evening? Enjoy the drinks, maybe even the women?”
The Herhor responded by pulling her ear quite hard. The small jolt of pain immediately suppressed her happy tipsy demeanour.
“AUTCH. What in the blazes got into you, Rove?”
“That’s better,” He responded flatly. “Amusement aside, we’ve got an issue. Or our dear drunken friend has.”
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“How so?”
“The man that got his attention earlier was waving a pair of engraved daggers. Now, why would a fellow go outside to meet up with someone showing him daggers?”
That got her brain working. She tapped a finger against the rim of her mug, peering into the depths of the wine it contained. “... That is a good question.”
“And I’ve seen one more thing. A symbol on the dagger-fellow’s lapel. I’ve seen it before, but I can’t put my finger on it. A golden spear, with a white feathered wing on the end of its shaft.”
“A white wing…” A sudden realization struck her as a memory burst into her mind like a firework. “One white wing? Or two?”
The Herhor motioned for her to stand up, which she did. While they were talking, they headed out of the tavern to pursue Sneak.
“One. Does it make a difference?”
She swore softly to herself. Memories of home came and went before her mind’s eye. Memories of her parents and the work they did.
“To put it simply, the spear means they’re a soldier, and two wings would’ve meant they’re in the employ of Marlight and the Dusk of Life. My home country. But… One wing means that they do not follow the Council’s wisdom. A rebel, if you’d like. Single wings to signify that they feel crippled.” She grimaced. “The sort of symbol I should wear, all things considered. But these people are bad news. Very bad.”
The Herhor join her in the swearing.
“For fuck’s sake. He might’ve been a conspirator after all. That or those folks have some dirt over him to lure him out.” At least it isn’t Prado this time, Ayuen thought to herself as Rove continued. “Hopefully, whoever is talking to Sneak doesn’t have the same information as my brother does.”
The two of them walked towards the inn’s entrance, nodding to the friendly barkeep behind the counter.
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Ayuen looked around into the darkness of town. No sign of anyone, let alone Sneak. The only sounds she could hear were the patrons in the tavern behind her, the echoes of a good time dampened and muffled.
“Now, where in the blazes could Sneak have disappeared off to?” She wondered, frowning as her eyes pierced the darkens with relative ease. Rove was cursing softly beside her, clearly having more trouble than she did with the gloom of night.
The answer to her query came quickly enough, however. A yelp echoed through the village, Ayuen turning towards the houses surrounding the marketplace. It had come from behind the buildings. Without a second thought, the poet found herself rushing towards the source, readying Floryshia as she went. With it being dark, the potential brightness of a yellow round would be decently useful. The weapon clicked softly while she opened it, allowing her to easily load the round before closing it again. Rove drew his sword, the metallic sound of it screeching loudly through the night, a stark contrast with Floryshia’s more elegant silence.
“Loaded a light round.” She spoke while running, eyeing Rove beside her. “When I shout ‘Flare’, retreat and close your eyes for a second.”
“Very well. Should give us plenty of time to retaliate. If it works.”
As they ran, she saw a grin appear on the Herhor’s face, his face hungry as his right hand gripped Stormgrinder tightly. The man was looking forward to this! She hoped that he didn’t get in over his head. Then again, he had her to take care that such a thing didn’t happen. And she had new toys as well. She felt her lips curl up as excitement began to roil underneath her skin.
Her sensitive ears picked up distinct voices now, echoing forth from inside the darkness of the alleys ahead. One voice was higher pitched and panicked, while the second voice was derisive and sadistic. Immediately she recognized the first one as Sneak’s. The other one she couldn’t place at all.
She and Rove reached a small field behind the houses, her eyes seeing Sneak laying on the ground with two shadows looming over him. She could also see wings spread out like they were trying to be some kind of incarnation of bad luck. Feather wings. They were Yrus!
One of them held a torch, a familiar symbol clear on their shoulder. A spear with one wing.
“...nd y’don’t have to kill Sneak!” Sneak said pleadingly and desperately, and one of the Yrus kicked him hard in the side. They chuckled as they continued harassing the man, voices ruthless.
“Well, if you don’t give them up and deliver those two to us, you human runt, you’re of no use to us. And to the mistress.” The feminine figure said with a sneer, the woman having fun tormenting the poor man. She was just about to stick a dagger in Sneak’s throat when her companion saw the two of them approaching and let out a cry of alarm. Aborting the attack, she turned around. With his supposed assailents distracted, Sneak scrambled away a meter of two, pressing himself against the wall.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” The woman said with a honing voice. “Guess this fool had some use aft-…”
“FLARE!” Ayuen called out, quickly aiming Floryshia at the figure. She had a clear shot now and Sneak was out of the way. If they thought that she’d let that woman monologue they were severely mistaken. Rove shielded his eyes with an arm and she pulled the trigger. A loud bang echoed through the night as the shot fired, the recoil pushing the weapon painfully against her shoulder. However, her training had paid off. Her aim was true and the glowing shot crashed into the woman’s shoulder. Fire and light flared up, engulfing the woman as she screamed in pain. Even though she was expecting it, Ayuen still blinded herself temporarily. But going by the shouts in front of them, their foes had it worse.
“GO!” She shouted to Rove, but he was already running ahead of her. As he charged forwards, she rubbed her eyes with one hand, trying to get her sight back before he needed more assistance. For the next couple of seconds, it was up to him.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/876104022833127448/1080129838712619149/Eye3.png]Art by Fantastical, Fantastical Art Licence