A Day on the Town, a Night of Revelations 
2t6h Ash 121
Last night had been quite the experience. Finally putting what he knew and cultivated to use against a real target, affirming in himself of his own worth as a protector and servant. It is too bad that his cloak had to pay the price for his mistakes, the faithful thing that it was, may it rest in peace, or at least until it gets patched up.
He had expected to hear a buzz about the incident last night, but nothing was said amongst the general populace. He had thought to return to the alley to look for himself but somehow that felt foolish, they would be looking for someone like him to return and promptly attack him on sight, maybe. All he knew was that those guards did not looked pleased at his work and made their intentions loud and clear as he made his escape.
Now Yshvold strolls through the city, without his bloodied cloak and mask, he reluctantly thanks Nnerka for giving him the opportunity to walk the streets uninhibited by his fear. Maybe she never intended for it and perhaps she only meant to annoy him until she was satisfied, he could hardly tell with those arachnid features of hers, but she did help none-the-less and credit must be given due.
The guards gave no hint of a lookout for someone of importance. If they were everything they presented themselves to be then of course they wouldn't allow their prey to be on guard through suspicious behavior or movements, or maybe the robbery was still under investigation. He could only guess at this point but thought to remain alert in case someone recognized him from that night, or some other occasion.
The day was young and there were so many sites to explore, one in particular grabbed his attention lately. An arena, The Proving Grounds they called it, a place of combat and honor.
Yshvold heard of a place like that underground where glory would be won, honor or not, in bloody combat against mighty warriors. Thinking back he should have followed someone to find it in case he would need to know where it was, but hindsight is no use here. Those were different times and now he was strong, strong enough to at least look into this place of combat to determine its worth for himself.
The walk was long but not unpleasant. Everyone around him either ignored him or gave him a friendly greeting, with his own stiff wave back to return their gesture. It was quite strange but not unwelcome. This was what he was striving for, some semblance of acceptance in a place that no longer saw him as another pest to be exterminated. Perhaps hiding himself away under his mask was a mistake all along but how could he know that?
As his walk went Yshvold found himself going through the market. So many merchants peddling their wares, and so loudly too, the noise was an audio mess along with a frantic crowd shopping for their own goods. Someone of smaller stature might be trampled if they did not know how to traverse crowds like this, fortunately for Yshvold surfing through a sea of people became natural with his daily walks through town. Practice is practice and this certainly counted.
Through the crowd of customers and loud salesmen he could hear one voice pop out to him. High pitch, familiar, and feminine, he couldn't believe his eyes when he looked and stared the pointy eared man from last night in the eyes.
It was only a split second and the man didn't know what he was looking at until Yshvold blended back into the crowd again. He thought about it and his breath escaped him for that small moment, that was the shadow from before. He didn't get a good look, but fate must have a sense of humor. The all black creature at night was a bright pure white boy during day, or so he thought to himself. Lack of sleep, that must be it, he was still rattled and seeing things.
The man laughed quietly as he bagged apples for a customer and collected coin. A cold sweat forming as he thought about what he just saw, and wondered if he should report it. Betraying the person who saved him or upholding the law as a good citizen should. The guards were not happy with how the crook was dispatched but gave up the chase after losing sight of him to maintain calm at night.
He sighed, excusing himself from his boss to take a small break, and went back into a nearby alley. The people were within sight and anyone could hear him yell if he needed help, it was as safe as he could get while he got a quick breather before going back to work.
"You." A quiet whisper caused the man to jump and look deeper into the alley. A small figure leaned from the corner with a bloodied mask on, it was him.
"Ah... ah- Hi." The mans high voice cracked as he skootched away and towards the safety of the crowd. Maybe this thing wanted to take him out for recognizing him, he wasn't going to take any chances and decided to start moving faster.
"Are you well?" The voice came again, soft and pleasant but somehow feeling empty.
"I- What?" The girlish man stuttered as fear was taken by confusion. He blinked quickly hoping the thing would disappear but it remained, it felt so unreal.
"Are you well? Uninjured, whole, safe?" Its concerned words felt disingenuous, like it had practiced those words without knowing the meaning behind them. Was this a boy? It felt like some sort of monster using its body as a host and trying to act like a normal being.
"Y-yea, um... Thank you. You should go away, if the guards see you they'll arrest you for sure." He couldn't do much for this brave thing, helping any further could endanger his own wellbeing and way of life, such was the only power he held. Meaningless advice and empty thanks, if he were more wealthy he could see about getting the young thing a way out of the city before the Sky Guard found him.
"I see, thank you. Please do not go into anymore alleys, it is not safe for you." And just like that the mask was gone, leaving only tiny footsteps quieting into the distance.
He knew this might be the last time he ever saw the boy again, for better or worse, and all he could do was wish him well on whatever journey he set out on.
Yshvold was satisfied, he thought himself appropriately intimidating and generous. The man was shaking in his boots but seemed grateful for his advice, another step to being a good citizen of civilized society. No one ever raised their hand to help him, so maybe he should do the opposite and help others the way he wished he would have been helped. Removing threats at night and doing good deeds during the day. A killers mask for the unforgiven and a boy's smile for the innocent, it felt right.
The rest of his adventure went without a hitch and many of the guards barely took note of him. With a soft smile on his face on finding a potential purpose for his being, outside serving her most generous and gracious Lady Petra, he takes great strides towards The Proving Grounds.
It was in the same area as he met Hoxzi and wondered if she frequent it as well, her unwomanly physique said she might do well there but something about her mannerism told him otherwise. A great building with tiled blue roofing stood before him, the door ahead seemed larger than life to him but in reality it was just as big as any other door to the other establishments.
His heart raced as he thought about the opportunities to prove himself strong to those who knew him, and most importantly to his dear Lady. The Proving Grounds, aptly named as he had much to prove to the world.
Whatever he expected inside was not what he got, nor he felt deserved. Whoever this clerk was at the desk merely scoffed at him and told him to run off, a knife onto the front counter proved to be a good counter point to get his attention. Some harsh words and a debate later and he got a promise to have him return later after deliberation with the powers that be for his participation.
Their argument had caught the attention of the more seasoned warriors present, each with a big stupid grin as they watched Yshvold being hazed by nothing more than an attendant and burst out in laughter as weapons were drawn and their words became more heated. One could say the boy learned some interesting phrases about anothers parentage, or where to put anatomically inappropriate body parts into other impossible areas of said self. Others say the boy did just fine holding his own against someone more seasoned to handle unruly fighters with explosive tempers.
Yshvold left in a huff, with a promise that he'll be back and they'd better have something for him when he returns. As the doors closed he could hear the laughter of stronger warriors, raising his own blood pressure to heights he didn't think possible.
The first obstacle is found and now he must overcome this hurdle to gain more strength, if no other purpose was found then out of spite for that infuriating desk clerk. Damned be a man who sits at a desk and denies him his way, he'll learn that the name Yshvold is not one to be taken lightly.
Time passes and night comes again.
The boy sits on a high building with his cape and mask on to keep his identity safe from the guards below, their patrols seemed heightened from his escapades last night. It was good, it meant that he wouldn't have to do anything foolish tonight to needlessly endanger himself again, but also disappointing.
How would he become stronger if there were no criminals for him to fight? The thought puzzled his mind as he laid down on the roof and covered himself with his cloak like a blanket. Perhaps not every night needs his talents, or perhaps last night was a fluke. Maybe...
The city had alleys, but it also had its guard, the low city and the middens had no such protections. He could operate there without persecution from the law, and practice what he needs in the meantime. BRILLIANT!
His mind made up, and with nothing else to do, Yshvold jumped to his feet and looked for a good route towards the poorer district. If he does his job right, then he could help others and learn more on what it means to be a contributing member of society.
Thus did another night of skulking and fighting begin. His great work against those who would cause harm to others is only beginning.
He had expected to hear a buzz about the incident last night, but nothing was said amongst the general populace. He had thought to return to the alley to look for himself but somehow that felt foolish, they would be looking for someone like him to return and promptly attack him on sight, maybe. All he knew was that those guards did not looked pleased at his work and made their intentions loud and clear as he made his escape.
Now Yshvold strolls through the city, without his bloodied cloak and mask, he reluctantly thanks Nnerka for giving him the opportunity to walk the streets uninhibited by his fear. Maybe she never intended for it and perhaps she only meant to annoy him until she was satisfied, he could hardly tell with those arachnid features of hers, but she did help none-the-less and credit must be given due.
The guards gave no hint of a lookout for someone of importance. If they were everything they presented themselves to be then of course they wouldn't allow their prey to be on guard through suspicious behavior or movements, or maybe the robbery was still under investigation. He could only guess at this point but thought to remain alert in case someone recognized him from that night, or some other occasion.
The day was young and there were so many sites to explore, one in particular grabbed his attention lately. An arena, The Proving Grounds they called it, a place of combat and honor.
Yshvold heard of a place like that underground where glory would be won, honor or not, in bloody combat against mighty warriors. Thinking back he should have followed someone to find it in case he would need to know where it was, but hindsight is no use here. Those were different times and now he was strong, strong enough to at least look into this place of combat to determine its worth for himself.
The walk was long but not unpleasant. Everyone around him either ignored him or gave him a friendly greeting, with his own stiff wave back to return their gesture. It was quite strange but not unwelcome. This was what he was striving for, some semblance of acceptance in a place that no longer saw him as another pest to be exterminated. Perhaps hiding himself away under his mask was a mistake all along but how could he know that?
As his walk went Yshvold found himself going through the market. So many merchants peddling their wares, and so loudly too, the noise was an audio mess along with a frantic crowd shopping for their own goods. Someone of smaller stature might be trampled if they did not know how to traverse crowds like this, fortunately for Yshvold surfing through a sea of people became natural with his daily walks through town. Practice is practice and this certainly counted.
Through the crowd of customers and loud salesmen he could hear one voice pop out to him. High pitch, familiar, and feminine, he couldn't believe his eyes when he looked and stared the pointy eared man from last night in the eyes.
It was only a split second and the man didn't know what he was looking at until Yshvold blended back into the crowd again. He thought about it and his breath escaped him for that small moment, that was the shadow from before. He didn't get a good look, but fate must have a sense of humor. The all black creature at night was a bright pure white boy during day, or so he thought to himself. Lack of sleep, that must be it, he was still rattled and seeing things.
The man laughed quietly as he bagged apples for a customer and collected coin. A cold sweat forming as he thought about what he just saw, and wondered if he should report it. Betraying the person who saved him or upholding the law as a good citizen should. The guards were not happy with how the crook was dispatched but gave up the chase after losing sight of him to maintain calm at night.
He sighed, excusing himself from his boss to take a small break, and went back into a nearby alley. The people were within sight and anyone could hear him yell if he needed help, it was as safe as he could get while he got a quick breather before going back to work.
"You." A quiet whisper caused the man to jump and look deeper into the alley. A small figure leaned from the corner with a bloodied mask on, it was him.
"Ah... ah- Hi." The mans high voice cracked as he skootched away and towards the safety of the crowd. Maybe this thing wanted to take him out for recognizing him, he wasn't going to take any chances and decided to start moving faster.
"Are you well?" The voice came again, soft and pleasant but somehow feeling empty.
"I- What?" The girlish man stuttered as fear was taken by confusion. He blinked quickly hoping the thing would disappear but it remained, it felt so unreal.
"Are you well? Uninjured, whole, safe?" Its concerned words felt disingenuous, like it had practiced those words without knowing the meaning behind them. Was this a boy? It felt like some sort of monster using its body as a host and trying to act like a normal being.
"Y-yea, um... Thank you. You should go away, if the guards see you they'll arrest you for sure." He couldn't do much for this brave thing, helping any further could endanger his own wellbeing and way of life, such was the only power he held. Meaningless advice and empty thanks, if he were more wealthy he could see about getting the young thing a way out of the city before the Sky Guard found him.
"I see, thank you. Please do not go into anymore alleys, it is not safe for you." And just like that the mask was gone, leaving only tiny footsteps quieting into the distance.
He knew this might be the last time he ever saw the boy again, for better or worse, and all he could do was wish him well on whatever journey he set out on.
Yshvold was satisfied, he thought himself appropriately intimidating and generous. The man was shaking in his boots but seemed grateful for his advice, another step to being a good citizen of civilized society. No one ever raised their hand to help him, so maybe he should do the opposite and help others the way he wished he would have been helped. Removing threats at night and doing good deeds during the day. A killers mask for the unforgiven and a boy's smile for the innocent, it felt right.
The rest of his adventure went without a hitch and many of the guards barely took note of him. With a soft smile on his face on finding a potential purpose for his being, outside serving her most generous and gracious Lady Petra, he takes great strides towards The Proving Grounds.
It was in the same area as he met Hoxzi and wondered if she frequent it as well, her unwomanly physique said she might do well there but something about her mannerism told him otherwise. A great building with tiled blue roofing stood before him, the door ahead seemed larger than life to him but in reality it was just as big as any other door to the other establishments.
His heart raced as he thought about the opportunities to prove himself strong to those who knew him, and most importantly to his dear Lady. The Proving Grounds, aptly named as he had much to prove to the world.
Whatever he expected inside was not what he got, nor he felt deserved. Whoever this clerk was at the desk merely scoffed at him and told him to run off, a knife onto the front counter proved to be a good counter point to get his attention. Some harsh words and a debate later and he got a promise to have him return later after deliberation with the powers that be for his participation.
Their argument had caught the attention of the more seasoned warriors present, each with a big stupid grin as they watched Yshvold being hazed by nothing more than an attendant and burst out in laughter as weapons were drawn and their words became more heated. One could say the boy learned some interesting phrases about anothers parentage, or where to put anatomically inappropriate body parts into other impossible areas of said self. Others say the boy did just fine holding his own against someone more seasoned to handle unruly fighters with explosive tempers.
Yshvold left in a huff, with a promise that he'll be back and they'd better have something for him when he returns. As the doors closed he could hear the laughter of stronger warriors, raising his own blood pressure to heights he didn't think possible.
The first obstacle is found and now he must overcome this hurdle to gain more strength, if no other purpose was found then out of spite for that infuriating desk clerk. Damned be a man who sits at a desk and denies him his way, he'll learn that the name Yshvold is not one to be taken lightly.
Time passes and night comes again.
The boy sits on a high building with his cape and mask on to keep his identity safe from the guards below, their patrols seemed heightened from his escapades last night. It was good, it meant that he wouldn't have to do anything foolish tonight to needlessly endanger himself again, but also disappointing.
How would he become stronger if there were no criminals for him to fight? The thought puzzled his mind as he laid down on the roof and covered himself with his cloak like a blanket. Perhaps not every night needs his talents, or perhaps last night was a fluke. Maybe...
The city had alleys, but it also had its guard, the low city and the middens had no such protections. He could operate there without persecution from the law, and practice what he needs in the meantime. BRILLIANT!
His mind made up, and with nothing else to do, Yshvold jumped to his feet and looked for a good route towards the poorer district. If he does his job right, then he could help others and learn more on what it means to be a contributing member of society.
Thus did another night of skulking and fighting begin. His great work against those who would cause harm to others is only beginning.
