Messages (Kiri, open)

[Anonymous]

The everyday life of the city bustled in Ketra's square; Shanna shifted her weight uneasily, scuffing at the ground with a forehoof. She didn't like waiting, but what else was there to do between jobs? With a messenger's bag clearly displayed at her side, it was obvious what her purpose was, and that she was currently unoccupied. Still, the density of people in the square made her nervous; she was large enough that if she accidentally kicked or stepped on someone, she could do them serious harm.

As if on cue, an older woman broke away from the crowd and hurried up to her. "E-excuse me..."

"Yes?" Shanna tilted her head. "Do you have a message?"

"I-I have a friend in La'marri... I recently received word that he was gravely ill..." The woman hesitated, flushing. "It's a long way to go, but... I can't travel all that way... Can you take this to him?" She thrust out a folded paper. Shanna took it, scanned the words quickly--the woman had a fine hand, neat and easy to read--then tucked it into her bag. She nodded. "I will take this letter for you as quickly as I can. How can I identify your friend?"

"I saw his house once... It's a wooden hut, with white flowers growing in front."

"Thank you, that's enough information." Shanna bowed, and turned, carefully navigating the crowds. "Messenger to La'marri," she called as she went, and slowly she gathered enough messages to fill her bag.

((Random NPCs FTW! Just so ya know, the guy she's referring to isn't Mockingbird.))

[Anonymous]

The woman wandering through the streets of Ketra paused occasionally, offering apologies to the people she brushed against.

Syra never had minded crowds at all, even when it meant bumping into someone.  She smiled quietly as the noise level picked up, and continued forward, one small step at a time.  Her ears flicked back and forth, pinpointing voices as she moved through the square.  She staggered as someone rushed past her, brushing against her just enough for the unexpected contact to knock her off balance.  Reaching out in front of her, trying to recover her balance, she half fell against something furry.  Regaining her balance, her perked forward as she heard the distinctive noise of hooves against stone.  A horse?  Then the rider was nearby, possibly even still perched on the animal.

"My apologies, friend."  She bowed her head, reaching up with one hand to straighten the small white flower tucked in her hair, feeling it slipping loose.

((If I'm interrupting anything, just let me know.))

[Anonymous]

Ketra's square was damned busy today.

A huge crowd full of the same people, buzzing about like little bumblebees, all of them under Arca's incredibly hot sun. All the while, he bounced an apple in his head, one the same shade as his long, fiery red hair (and on hot days like this, he wished his hair wasn't so long), looking about for anyone who'd give work to someone who looked as scruffy as him. With his ripped muscle shirts and slacking pants, he didn't seem like the reliable sort. People, he scoffed, are always too quick to judge.

As he neared the fringes of the square, the sound of someone calling out for messages to send to La'marri echoed in the air, perhaps a messenger, loading up for a trip. Very quickly did he scan his onyx black eyes about, looking for the source of the sound, when indeed, he pinpointed it. From this distance, and with the large amount of people in the way, it looked to be a girl with a horse plodding behind her. A messenger girl, perhaps. She didn't look like the sort who wanted any help, but he had heard from the runaway mages of Hyoite what kind of place La'marri was. Peaceful, for the most part, but the road there wasn't anything to sneeze at. And they had been seasoned mages, the best of their kind.

It wouldn't hurt to go investigate, would it? Besides, he wasn't doing anything important here. Ever since he had reached Ketra, he had been taking odd jobs here or there, sleeping in trees or sometimes inns whenever he had cash to spare. It was rough work, but refreshing, in a way. He laughed about it though, wondering if he was pretending to be normal, but running around town like a damned fool. Or maybe it was that fuzzy feeling he got inside when he helped someone. Especially when they'd say things like, 'What would I have done without you?'

You're getting soft, something in his head echoed. And maybe he was. He job was to kill demi-gods, not help the randoms... But why couldn't he do both?

"Hey, are you heading out to—" he called out to the messenger girl, but then stopped, suddenly, in his tracks when he had gotten close enough. A horse hadn't been trotting behind her, she was half-horse. Back on his home world, such people only existed in... storybooks, myths, fables. "Whoa," he find himself muttering, staring now, hand still gripped on his apple. But then, something inside him told Vestige that it really wasn't polite to stare. Not that he gave two damns about manners, but there were some things even Vestige wouldn't push.

"Sorry... never seen a centaur before." It seemed he just hadn't spent enough time in this world...

And then, near the side of the girl, was another human-animal, a girl... but a cat. She seemed so serene, fixing a flower in her hair, but Vestige could only wonder if perhaps he was being the odd one here, if such people were prominent in this world.  "Or a cat... girl."

[Anonymous]

A sudden cackle disturbs the group for a moment, right to one side of them is Estrix going about his daily begging, his dark robes pulled tight, helping him blend to the shadows.

Standing slowly he cocks his head from left to right and back again as he examines each in turn. As his eyes move over them he points at each, as if counting them off.

Another sudden burst of laughter breaks from him as he starts to talk "Ah three, there are three...one, two and three indeed," he pauses for a moment to stare at the sky, "and many great things are three, or maybe three is many great things. And when there are three great portends shall follow, for all things on the Wheel move in threes." Pointing again to each in turn "Yes.They.Do." Again a pause, his head cocked as if listening to a sound only he can here, suddenly he fixes his eyes on Shanna and his manner changes completely as he draws himself up "I have no messages for thee to carry, but indeed I have a message for thee."

Suddenly he simply plops back to the floor "perhaps a coin in exchange for a charm of safety upon your good self?" he asks quietly, but without any hint of madness, still staring at Shanna.

[Anonymous]

Shanna felt someone brush against her hindquarter; reflexively, she picked up that pair, shifting her weight to the remaining six legs. She twisted her torso to look back, trying not to move her horse half; she didn't want to crush someone's foot. She'd been bumped by a young woman with distinctly feline traits and a white flower in her hair. She nodded to the woman's apology, then inquired, "Do you have a message for me?"

Someone called out before she received a reply; a young-looking, red-haired man with jet black eyes. He cut off in the middle of his sentence; remarking that he'd never seen a centaur or a catgirl before. Shanna felt briefly uncomfortable; she didn't like being seen as an oddity. She swished her tail. "My destination is La'marri."

Yet another person joined the group, which was beginning to become a crowd. He was robed in black, and made Shanna a bit nervous; he had the air of a madman about him. Maybe he wasn't--it wasn't fair to judge-- but from the way he began to ramble about threes, he wasn't quite firing on all cylinders, either.

"Perhaps a coin in exchange for a charm of safety upon your good self?" he asked suddenly, sounding quite a bit more normal. Shanna paused, then, deciding that it couldn't possibly do any harm, she rummaged through her message bag. She didn't usually ask for a fee when carrying messages, but people had a tendency to slip coins in with their messages. There were a number of smallish copper pieces, nothing larger; she fished one out. "It's not much, but will this do?"

[Anonymous]

She smoothed out her vest and sash before silently shaking her in response to Shanna's question.  Before she could give a verbal reply, another voice sounded, and Syra turned as if to look in the newcomer's direction.  Her clouded eyes glanced around as her ears swiveled back, catching Estrix's voice.  Her tanned cheeks flushed a pale pink, the woman somewhat embarrassed to have so many around paying attention to her, just when she'd tripped like that.

"May the Great Mother bless you all."  She murmured in an undertone, her standard response to such crowds.  And then what Estrix said caught her attention.  Three?  And Wheels?  She was not exactly familiar with prophecies and whatnot, but that sounded an awful lot like one.  Blinking slowly, she turned her blind gaze upon Estrix.  "Whatever do you mean, sir?  What is the Wheel?"

She glanced back in the direction she'd heard the other male's voice, one ear swiveling back towards Estrix, the priestess obviously trying to make sure she heard everything clearly.

[Anonymous]

Estrix stared at the coin in Shanna's hand for a long moment, almost as if he had forgotten what it was for. Suddenly he pulls the coin from her hand and begins to root around in his pockets and pouches, muttering to himself as he does so. Finally with a triumphant laugh he pulls something from his pocket. He quickly attempts to polish it on his robe, but this only seems to make the object even dirtier than before. With a leap forward he quickly thrusts it into Shanna's hand. It appears to be a small disk of brass, a hole punched through the middle, around one face are two dragons chasing each other, and on the other face, the open maw of a dragon appears to rush towards you. The disk is ice cold to the touch, almost seeming to leech heat from the hand that holds it.
Obviously pleased with himself, Estrix leans close to Shanna's ear, his musty breath on her face, and in a whisper so loud as to be pointless tells her "This is special magic...dragon magic!" He nods madly for emphasis and then looks around in a conspiratal manner and pats her hand holding the coin "This..." he pauses and draws a deep breath "dragon" and then he breaks down into another fit of laughter as he mines throwing the coin in the air. He looks like he's about to say more about the amulet when Syra's voice catches his attention

Whirling to look at her, he bows low to her, for the first time exposing his hands, and the strange skin colour. "Greetings little holy one," he whispers, his attitude quite different from a moment before in dealing with Shanna. Though when he hears Syra refer to him as sir he breaks down into another fit of mad laughter. "I am no sir little holy one," he mutters as his breath returns. Suddenly he turns serious again "But I shall tell you of the Wheel, for we are all on it, and all must live by it." he pauses again, and appears to loose his place as he cocks his head towards the sky, then continues "life, death and rebirth are the wheel, the seasons are the wheel, and the universe, and the turning of the tides are the wheel. The movement of...everything is the Wheel. It is by the turns of the Wheel that we all live and die, and are reborn." Suddenly he throws an arm around Syra in a friendly kind of way, completely oblivious to the smell of his robes and skins, and begins to gesticulate madly "You see little holy one, life death and rebirth. The Great Wheel that runs in threes. Three is Her number, your mothers and mine and ours, and again a three." This time he pauses to muse for a moment before continuing quietly "and it is said that in threes the Wheel itself can be stopped, and worlds shaken to the core." Shaking himself, as if to chase away dark thoughts he reaches down to the pavement and plucks a small weed. Waving his hand over it and muttering, it suddenly becomes a small daisy which he hands to Syra "A gift for you little holy one." And for the first time since their meeting he seems genuinely pleased rather than simply made and raving.

Turning back to Shanna he looks at her for a long moment, head half-cocked to the sky again "Perhaps you will accept an old man as a travelling companion on your journey, the roads are not safe these days...and this city is not as it once was. We could all go...like a picnic," and once again he giggles along at something only he finds amusing, for reasons known only to himself.