A Gilded Night: A Little Shadow
Posted: Tue Sep 14, 2021 2:17 am
A Gilded Night: A Little Shadow 
2nd Ash 121
So many time's Yshvold had spent the night outdoors. It was comfortable to be out watching the clear night sky, gazing at the stars above and tracing lines between them to draw imaginary pictures with his finger. The cool wind blowing in told him of a change of season and he knew he would be spending less and less time outdoors like this so he would make the most of the time he had. It was all more clear to him as he laid down on the roof of Lady Petra's rooftop.
This was his home away from home. When asked where he went for the night he would simply say he was nearby to continue in his duty to protect and serve. A little shadow on the roof that was never too far away should he ever be needed. Only on rainy days specifically he would find himself protected by his Lady and allowed to sleep in her cupboard, along with select other days, and he would be just as close should he presence be necessary.
Tonight would be different. Lady Petra had left her home with a strange man who looked much too full of himself, or it could be how close they walked together that colored his opinion, and went towards a different direction. He knew better than to interrupt Lady Petra when she was with others. He had to be unseen, unheard, and unknown to the world at large and be a shadow to protect her. Never making his presence known and being content knowing he will never be acknowledged for these efforts for it was never needed.
From rooftop to rooftop he followed them, stepping lightly and jumping with grace as was practice during his hunt for scraps and targets before he became Lady Petra's servant If asked he would admit that each roof had its own minor difficulty. Slanted tiles would be avoided as he jumped to adjacent houses or businesses to avoid losing his footing and falling. Some guards below gave him cause to pause and wait for a time but never enough for him to lose his marks. They would move and he would hurry to catch up or run ahead trying to predict where the two would go. This game of cat and mouse put a soft smile on his face and let him put his skills on display, even if no one would see. Some effort was expended in his chase as the shadow of night covered him from above, and that no one would think to look up for no real reason, and soon he came upon their destination.
A plaza that is walled in by red and gold, a sign of the overprivileged flaunting what was theirs, and some sort of event happening inside. A line at the gate caught his attention with Miss Hozxi at the front. Something he didn't expect, now did he want, for she was quite observant and would spot him quickly should he make a mistake. Yshvold curses Hozxi's bad timing but observes her kicking a man in the shin and crumbling him, giving him cause to giggle. This over bloated, overdressed, man being taken down by his "lesser" brought him a certain joy and he took note to memorize his face for a possible easy mark later should he require funds or food.
Everything else comes out as a garbled mess inside and forces Yshvold to look upon everything one at a time to get a good picture of where he could go unnoticed. A man performing for a crowd, A table full of food and drink gathering many of the party goers, and so much wall all around but with many ways over. He could get inside from here or some other nearby roof or perhaps Miss Hozxi would grant him entrance without fuss but such thoughts are for the foolish. He would depend on himself and his skills alone to infiltrate should it be necessary to protect Lady Petra, such is his only duty.
But...
The music, the festivities, all of the happiness going around felt contagious. His curiosity starts to get the better of him and he looks for others doing something different from his usual studies. A noble looking couple introduce themselves to another, the woman bowing in humility towards the other woman and she returns the same. Whatever this was intrigued him and he took a step back to remain unseen. Facial movements prove hard for him to recreate but he finds moving his body to be much easier. Right foot back with his hands holding his cloak up slightly, he does a small bow like the ladies below. It felt correct and as though he could belong to the upper echelons of society if he masters this technique to its full potential. Again and again he would practice the courtesy to imaginary nobles and kings, presenting himself as a proper member of high society, winning their approval and granting him boons and riches for his great etiquette.
This time he would look at the surroundings. The beautiful flowers leading up to the plaza bloomed to welcome their guests and preludes an extravagant event up ahead. Nothing like that bloomed in the Middens and enraptures him. Something like this looked precious and he wished he could find something so beautiful to bring home as a gift. He is given so much and yet he has given so little, perhaps a small gesture such as that could justify is presence within Lady Petra's wall. Her act of kindness returned with a small pretty flower sounded trite in his mind, but he yearned to show his gratitude. An unhealthy obsession well deserved towards the shining light of the Goddess that is Lady Petra. A beautiful flower that can not hope to hold a candle that is her radiance.
Again he looks at the crowd with more enthusiasm and finds more people enjoying themselves near the table of food. Two men converse with a plate of food, their stance upright in confidence, each of them laughing in turn to whatever the other had said. Yshvold could see they might be friends but they do not relax their posture as a sign that neither is willing to consider the other as their better. Other's around them held the same stature and he felt some sort of nostalgia towards how he lives. Much like these well off individuals you can find those in the lower dredges of life fighting to get to, or remain, on top. Conversing here seems akin to physical fights to determine the alpha of the rich.
He could kill them and show them what it meant to have real power versus the power of money. Money could not buy you immediate protection if a knife was at your throat, it could not bring the guards to your position until after the deed had been done, nor could it stop a monster from devouring you even if you had a running start. While these people would turn their noses up at him and consider him nothing more than garbage, he knew better. They were nothing to him and would remain nothing unless they proved themselves powerful.
The party would be the envy of anyone who would do anything for a single crumb of bread. It made his stomach growl and he quietly groaned as he looked away and back up to the stars above. These stars have been his only company on lonely nights as their dots called to him to draw out new pictures in his mind. Some would be great warriors with massive weapons, or a mighty winged beast roaring as it claims its dominion of the sky. These great and powerful beings being gods of the night sky to him and he would see himself drawn upon it the night sky as well, but not for himself.
Looking back down at the line Lady Petra caught his eye. She had gotten to the front of the line and is conversing with Miss Hozxi, both looking as though they enjoyed the experience until Miss Hozxi leaned in and said something to Lady Petra. He had no way of knowing what was said or what Lady Petra's face looked like but it gave him cause for alarm as he watched Lady Petra with an unblinking gaze.
Where she goes, whatever she does, it is being watched by a little shadow from above. Should someone look up they would only find a small black mass on top of a roof, the cloak softly billowing off the edge before it disappeared to relocate to a closer roof to Lady Petra.
May the divine have mercy on the man that dares lay a hand on his Lady, for this little shadow has no concept for the word.
This was his home away from home. When asked where he went for the night he would simply say he was nearby to continue in his duty to protect and serve. A little shadow on the roof that was never too far away should he ever be needed. Only on rainy days specifically he would find himself protected by his Lady and allowed to sleep in her cupboard, along with select other days, and he would be just as close should he presence be necessary.
Tonight would be different. Lady Petra had left her home with a strange man who looked much too full of himself, or it could be how close they walked together that colored his opinion, and went towards a different direction. He knew better than to interrupt Lady Petra when she was with others. He had to be unseen, unheard, and unknown to the world at large and be a shadow to protect her. Never making his presence known and being content knowing he will never be acknowledged for these efforts for it was never needed.
From rooftop to rooftop he followed them, stepping lightly and jumping with grace as was practice during his hunt for scraps and targets before he became Lady Petra's servant If asked he would admit that each roof had its own minor difficulty. Slanted tiles would be avoided as he jumped to adjacent houses or businesses to avoid losing his footing and falling. Some guards below gave him cause to pause and wait for a time but never enough for him to lose his marks. They would move and he would hurry to catch up or run ahead trying to predict where the two would go. This game of cat and mouse put a soft smile on his face and let him put his skills on display, even if no one would see. Some effort was expended in his chase as the shadow of night covered him from above, and that no one would think to look up for no real reason, and soon he came upon their destination.
A plaza that is walled in by red and gold, a sign of the overprivileged flaunting what was theirs, and some sort of event happening inside. A line at the gate caught his attention with Miss Hozxi at the front. Something he didn't expect, now did he want, for she was quite observant and would spot him quickly should he make a mistake. Yshvold curses Hozxi's bad timing but observes her kicking a man in the shin and crumbling him, giving him cause to giggle. This over bloated, overdressed, man being taken down by his "lesser" brought him a certain joy and he took note to memorize his face for a possible easy mark later should he require funds or food.
Everything else comes out as a garbled mess inside and forces Yshvold to look upon everything one at a time to get a good picture of where he could go unnoticed. A man performing for a crowd, A table full of food and drink gathering many of the party goers, and so much wall all around but with many ways over. He could get inside from here or some other nearby roof or perhaps Miss Hozxi would grant him entrance without fuss but such thoughts are for the foolish. He would depend on himself and his skills alone to infiltrate should it be necessary to protect Lady Petra, such is his only duty.
But...
The music, the festivities, all of the happiness going around felt contagious. His curiosity starts to get the better of him and he looks for others doing something different from his usual studies. A noble looking couple introduce themselves to another, the woman bowing in humility towards the other woman and she returns the same. Whatever this was intrigued him and he took a step back to remain unseen. Facial movements prove hard for him to recreate but he finds moving his body to be much easier. Right foot back with his hands holding his cloak up slightly, he does a small bow like the ladies below. It felt correct and as though he could belong to the upper echelons of society if he masters this technique to its full potential. Again and again he would practice the courtesy to imaginary nobles and kings, presenting himself as a proper member of high society, winning their approval and granting him boons and riches for his great etiquette.
This time he would look at the surroundings. The beautiful flowers leading up to the plaza bloomed to welcome their guests and preludes an extravagant event up ahead. Nothing like that bloomed in the Middens and enraptures him. Something like this looked precious and he wished he could find something so beautiful to bring home as a gift. He is given so much and yet he has given so little, perhaps a small gesture such as that could justify is presence within Lady Petra's wall. Her act of kindness returned with a small pretty flower sounded trite in his mind, but he yearned to show his gratitude. An unhealthy obsession well deserved towards the shining light of the Goddess that is Lady Petra. A beautiful flower that can not hope to hold a candle that is her radiance.
Again he looks at the crowd with more enthusiasm and finds more people enjoying themselves near the table of food. Two men converse with a plate of food, their stance upright in confidence, each of them laughing in turn to whatever the other had said. Yshvold could see they might be friends but they do not relax their posture as a sign that neither is willing to consider the other as their better. Other's around them held the same stature and he felt some sort of nostalgia towards how he lives. Much like these well off individuals you can find those in the lower dredges of life fighting to get to, or remain, on top. Conversing here seems akin to physical fights to determine the alpha of the rich.
He could kill them and show them what it meant to have real power versus the power of money. Money could not buy you immediate protection if a knife was at your throat, it could not bring the guards to your position until after the deed had been done, nor could it stop a monster from devouring you even if you had a running start. While these people would turn their noses up at him and consider him nothing more than garbage, he knew better. They were nothing to him and would remain nothing unless they proved themselves powerful.
The party would be the envy of anyone who would do anything for a single crumb of bread. It made his stomach growl and he quietly groaned as he looked away and back up to the stars above. These stars have been his only company on lonely nights as their dots called to him to draw out new pictures in his mind. Some would be great warriors with massive weapons, or a mighty winged beast roaring as it claims its dominion of the sky. These great and powerful beings being gods of the night sky to him and he would see himself drawn upon it the night sky as well, but not for himself.
Looking back down at the line Lady Petra caught his eye. She had gotten to the front of the line and is conversing with Miss Hozxi, both looking as though they enjoyed the experience until Miss Hozxi leaned in and said something to Lady Petra. He had no way of knowing what was said or what Lady Petra's face looked like but it gave him cause for alarm as he watched Lady Petra with an unblinking gaze.
Where she goes, whatever she does, it is being watched by a little shadow from above. Should someone look up they would only find a small black mass on top of a roof, the cloak softly billowing off the edge before it disappeared to relocate to a closer roof to Lady Petra.
May the divine have mercy on the man that dares lay a hand on his Lady, for this little shadow has no concept for the word.