Withed Fruit, Ripe With Ink (GoblinFae)

[Juer Kalmuri]

(This Topic to in terms of Juer's Timeline meant to take place after "Nomads Shifting as the Sands")


Just a few days after the travels ended with the first person whom he had considered a leader, a "saint" or so that is what he was called by others Juer had spoken to. It was plain that this world around him was trying to change him, or at least everything inside of it was built around change, Juer lived in a place were even the grains of sand never strayed far from where they laid the day before. The world outside of his own was plainly an evil one, it was becoming more and more clear to him that he was going to have to dedicate himself not only to his quest, but also ensure that his quest does not conquer him.

Strangers still hushed their voices and stared when Juer passed, murmuring to each-other about Juer's primitive look, secretive demeanor, and aggressive spells when pushed just slightly outside of his comfort zone, where he was already far away. No matter what Juer did, he could not adjust to what was going on around him. And while others my have decorated themselves, their markings are meaningless, and provided them with no benefit in the way Juer's did. They did not understand Juer did not want them to, if he was going to become the God-King of his people, he needed to be strong enough to change the world, not allow the world to change him!

Juer strode into yet another unnamed settlement, a circular arrangement of homes with no inn. the only public house being an empty town hall, with nothing more than tables and booths abandoned for a reason Juer did not care enough to ask of. The people did as they always did, and avoided Juer, word already having traveled this far out that a member of the elusive Kalmuri clan has shown himself, and what is more, that he is a danger and refuses to speak to anyone about why he has made the "choice" to appear now.

Few madmen and doomsayers even started to squawk of a coming apocalypse, but this still brought few people together. Too controlled by fear to actually do anything about it. Even the armed men of each encampment did little to impede the half-dressed wanderer.

His filthy brown tattered robe still tight around his waist, covering his shame and providing him with what he needed to get in and out of villages without someone feeling the need to comment on his dress rather than just watch in stewing horror as nothing happens. Juer steps up the stairs to the public hall, opening the door by pushing  his hand forward, feeling no strain of his muscles as the ink's magic operated on it's own, separate from him. The doors creaked and cracked slightly as the lock seemed to be on it, but as the wooden door got to be about four inches from his palm, the lock would prove to be the weak point, snapping and causing the door to swing open, nearly ripping itself off the hinges. Onlookers watched in horror as Juer stepped into the hall, disappointed to find no one in charge there as well, looking outside at the small crowd whom had gathered, Juer decided it was best to just lay here to rest from the past travels.  walking deeper into the hall and to the far side, sitting on the only cushioned chair and resting his body. skin connecting with the chair allowing his hands to freely touch it. gripping the armrests tightly as to not fall asleep, not watching to be anywhere near an established location to do that. He would just rest his eyes and his legs at this time.

[GoblinFae]

Raflroi's family and the caravans they traveled with had already left the city days ago to begin their journey home until the next year when it would all begin again. Tiraris of course, or Zayna as she was better known to the citizen's of Essyrn, had no intention of staying that long in the desert oasis. She drifted here and there with her work, only coming this far south when absolutely necessary. The desert heat and oasis humidity did nothing to soften her temper, adding fuel to the fires within, instead.

For now she would remain, enjoying a small break from the chaos of her chosen occupation before fleeing back to cooler climates with significantly less sand and her inner demons buried deeply and locked away within her heart, not to be seen again until next she returned.

Overdressed by Essyrni standards but unwilling to underdress by her own, she suffered the weather in a long, sheer, dark red tunic and pant set with sandals as well as the passing looks of the local population. A slight breeze tugged at her headscarf, forcing her to readjust it as she looked about.

Today was different than the others though as she was searching for something, or rather more particular, someone. While staying with Raflroi and his family, Tiraris had been privy to the entertainment of the campfire tales. One in particular had been heavily discussed and speculated upon much to the assassin's current disgust at the time.

The men whispered around the fire about a desert tribe with mystical powers of defense against physical harm. To the woman who had seen many things in her years of mercenary it all sounded like far-off tales and children's stories, hardly anything to be taken seriously. Yet, in every rumor there is a bit of truth.

It was for this reason that when she had reached Essyrn and caught word that one such member of the elusive tribe was in the city, shielding tattoos and all she found herself wandering the streets instead of lounging in a shaded room as was her usual habit. Disbelieving and intrigued, Tiraris was on the prowl to track down this man and test the truth in the tales she had heard. If he truly was as strong and indestructible as everyone made him and his people out to be or if he was just a warrior hiding behind exaggerations.

Following the growing groups of gossipers, the assassin followed the man's trail right up to and into the city's public hall. Tiraris kept to the shadows out of both habit and curiosity so that she could observe the poorly clad in private.

'Rather boring,' she thought disgustedly as he took a seat. 'This is the supposed human shield? I could break him in an instant. Well,' Tiraris paused in her thoughts, eyeing his physique up and down, 'make that two moments. If he knows how to use it he has height on his side.'

She edged closer, her red eyes never leaving him as she tried to determine if he was even worth approaching or just a waste of her day off. Deciding to wait a few moments more, Tiraris let out a long low breath of impatience. 'Seems they were just fairy tales after all.'

[Juer Kalmuri]

Juer would sit in the slightly padded chair, keeping himself aware though the heavy heat, the greenhouse of the public hall must of had weeks or even months of neglect, building up within the halls, if not for the putrid humidity of half-drunk or spilled wine mixed with the rot of food left out since the last holiday, this place would be a stack of firewood. Instead, it was a foul-smelling little banqueting hall for the poor and the depraved.

Strange as it may be however, it was a place that Juer easily found comfort in. The smell of old fruit was one that Juer had grown accustomed to over his long years of training, constantly applying and re applying tattoos on his fellow tribesmen. The harsh aroma of dead plants mashed into black tar, the smell of burnt flesh as the brush hit the skin for the first time. Yelps, screams and even crying of grown men as the ink stained their bodies. This was nothing compared to his home.

Juer was smiling at this point, remembering his past and how it had prepared him at least in part for what he would expect traveling the world. For once, he was not in the bleak unknown, he was back home again. But all good things come to an end.

Was it the creeks in the walls and floor that were off? or was it the sound of wind rushing though in a way that does not happen naturally? Whatever it was, it was not normal, and it drove his killer instinct over the limit fast. Juer opening his eyes and scanning the area in front of him immediately for whatever could be there. Standing up quickly, for a moment forgetting just all that could be done if he does not raise his hands first, as his hands left the armrests, the chair kicked back, slamming against the wall, the entire building creaking as the crudely made chair splintered and broke apart, leaving an imprint on the wall.

Juer did not care at this point, he looked around, to an onlooker, it would be as if a stray thought had sent that chair to oblivion. When in truth it was just a matter of anger and foolishness that sent that chair plowing into the wall with wicked force. Juer would look around for whomever it was who disturbed his trip though his memories. Calling out in an angry voice, heavily accented by his Tribal language. "Who bothers me?" He would ask in a stern tone, before settling to look directly at Tiraris, his sharper senses fading the darkness and exposing her to him, even if she did not know how. It was clear that he knew she was there.

Juer's face would go from angry to slightly less so, his stance slightly becoming less threatening, his hands open with his palms exposed, revealing his tattoos of force, his chest plainly visible as well, baring the infamous tattoo that was said to turn his skin to steel. He stared meanly at the woman in front of her, expecting her to answer his question now that he had plainly identified her.

[GoblinFae]

A thin brow rose to hide itself beneath the gossamer fabric of the headscarf that hid all but a pair of amused vermillion eyes. She stalked out from behind the shadow of a pillar with all the grace of a great feline watching its prey.

"Either you are uncaring of the things around you or have not yet mastered control over yourself," she commented, eying him up and down as if searching for further weaknesses. "You are but a child still. What fools be they that proclaim you warrior." A soft scoff whispered past her lips as her eyes danced and she circled slowly closer. "You are still wet behind the ears, untried and unworthy."

Tiraris taunted and rebuked seeking to provoke and to test. A lot could be told about a person when placed under pressure. The assassin sought to push all the buttons until something happened. She was rooting out weakness and gauging reactions to see if this supposed indestructible figure was truly worth her time.

She was refusing to answer his question though. As long as she could, she would maintain the upper hand. If only a quarter of what she knew of him was true then it was a quarter more than he knew about her, placing her at a distinct advantage. Tiraris also hoped that like many men of the desert, he would misjudge her, believing her weak and would not expect her to have strength to fight back should she need to.

With an eye casting a disinterested glance towards the shattered chair, the assassin shook her head and turned to leave. "A word to the wise," Tiraris gave as her parting words, "one does not seek a public place to rest if one does not wish to be bothered, boy."

[Juer Kalmuri]

Juer would look around after she would vanish, trying to find him, every time she would appear the the corner of his vision however, she would be gone in the next instant, Juer however remained calm, his hands hovering with open palms, threatening to harm anyone whom would get close.

Though her taunts would strike a cord with him, it was made much less so as she was a woman. Her culture teaching him that women are to be protected, and little more. So Juer would just ignore her comments and keep looking around for her, wanting to make sure that she could not get the jump on him, as good as that attempt would do.

"Who are you?" Is all that he would say in repeat of himself, as she would appear once again a few yards from him, he would stare at  her calmly as she would turn to leave, he would not stop her, as she was not his to care for, he did wonder however who's it was to guard her.

[GoblinFae]

She snorted in mirth at his repetition. It was getting old quickly. 'Such a pity. I was looking forward to a good dance,' Tiraris thought as she passed in and out of pillar shadows on her way to the exit. But, something within in her, whether it be the agitation of a failed hunt or the curiosity of testing the truth, drove her to reconsider her leaving just yet.

In a fluid movement, honed from years of self-training and experience, she slid a knife out from her sleeve, spinning on her heel as she threw it with all her might, straight and true for the man's heart.

'Come child, let us see how well you play. Are you really all they claim you to be? Silverd'art wants to know.'

Hawk-like eyes intently watched the path the blade followed, waiting for the inevitable whether it be death or otherwise. She certainly hoped for the latter. The stranger would not be missed here, by her least of all. However, the thrill of possibility hummed within her veins, calling her to learn and to challenge.

If the stories were only a little bit true, there was still hope that she could lock the horror within her away forever. The softer side of her, the side she buried deep when far from this desert wasteland was still close to the surface despite the presence of the caravan being long gone now. But, there was always hope and as long as it remained, she would seek out a way to cure herself of this inner poison.

[Juer Kalmuri]

Juer would stare on at the woman as she left, turning suddenly to launch the knife at him. Juer's eyes narrowed at the attempt at his life, lifting his palms up, crossing over his chest, the repulsive barriers deflecting the knife, the force of the throw causing it to decelerate as it crossed the threshold, still pointed towards him, as it then turned around, being sent in a downward direction and embedding itself into the wood.


"Challengers to the king's honor are to be taken seriously, respectfully." Juer would say, falling back into a stance that held his palms facing her, one arm above his head and one pointed straight at her. "If you wish to challenge me, woman, know that the only honorable end is one of our deaths."

[GoblinFae]

"Must death always be the outcome of a challenge? How then did you ever learn to fight if the master cannot challenge is student? Or the student his master for that matter? Provided of course that we are saying you are a master of your craft, which may or may not be the truth. I am willing to believe the latter. Trickery and sleight of hand may intimidate some but whatever will you do when you can no longer take the offensive?"

Tiraris shook her head. You proved you can defend yourself from one poorly-cast dagger. That does not make you warrior, especially not the legendary warrior that they whisper about in these streets. You are just a boy. You are not what I am seeking for after all. Such a pity," she sighed, turning her back on him to continue her exit through the shadows.

[Juer Kalmuri]

Juer would watch as she turned to leave, gritting his teeth now at her questioning, rather than being direct with him. He did not lower his hands, stepping forward to follow her tentatively, expecting her to turn around to attack him if he lowered his hands. He was not about t be left with his guard down. Focused on her only when speaking. "That is for the tribe to know, not you." Juer would say, while he was getting irritated, he still did not intend to speak much to her.


He would then stand focused, waiting for her move unwilling to take the first offensive still, he was in a good stance to defend himself, and his tattoos combined in him a defensive structure hard to break, between reflexes and the natural armor he had, he felt he had little reason to fear her, even more so because she had no clue what it is he could do.

[GoblinFae]

Tiraris chuckled and shook her head. "In other words your people did not even think that one through. You just make rules for why you should not be slighted. Sorry to disappoint though, as you said I am not part of the tribe therefore I have no qualms about challenging your so-called kingly honor. You are no king, just a child pretending to be."

The assassin shook her head again, stepping out of the hall and into the hot desert sun. "I suppose I should have sought out your teacher instead of your person. You are useless to me at this time," she declared, finally turning to face him. "Unless you can prove otherwise."