[CRP] The Adventures of Fire and Ice

[Innga]

Applying a bandage to the last of her wounds, Innga grumbled under her breath. She gazed around the small shack she had taken refuge in after arriving in Imperius. Dust covered the roof beams which creaked and groaned in the light breeze, releasing fungal spores and splinters of wood into the property below as they moved. Not wanting to be there any longer, Innga stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. It contained only 2 pieces of bread and a little money that had been given to her as she had entered the town. Evidently she appeared as terrible as she felt. There was little time for thinking of such things, however. Innga knew she had to travel to Fenia if she had any hope of finding Naithos.

Walking out the door with a slight limp, she cursed the Yvyrm that had attacked them, forcing her to become seperated from Naithos in the chaos, becoming totally lost in the night's darkness. It had only been at daybreak that she had wandered into Imperius, after hours of searching for some form of civilisation. After being given the bread that she now kept in her bag, Innga had trudged around the city looking for places to stay, finding only the mouldy shack. There she had sat and tended her wounds, while trying to figure out the best course of action. After all, she didn't even know if Naithos had made it... Quickly, she had banished those thoughts from her mind, leaving only one sensible solution: Travel to Fenia and attempt to find him there.

Now Innga limped down the road, out of town and toward her destination, only hoping that she would not get attacked again and that once in Fenia she would find Naithos safe and sound. If she didn't, she did not know what she would do.

[Naithos]

It was his tern to be on watch. Now Naithos was a economic creature by nature. He did not like to waste. More importantly he did not like to waste his sleep. So in all fairness, when he half closed his eyes, back against Innga's, feeling her purring in her sleep, his ears had no choice but to stand "watch", because the Cat-person it was attached to was certainly not going too.

Some time, around high moon, his ears had twitched; faint sounds speeding closer. Not sounding pleasant at all. His eyes blinked open and he rolled to his feet, letting his eyes take in the merest sliver of light and magnifying his sight as if it was daylight. "Innga. Enemy!" he has whispered harshly. Out of habit Naithos and Innga did what any self respecting Cat-person would do in a dangerous situation where they were facing the unknown...they scattered like the wind in opposite directions after grabbing their packs.

Naithos's narrative inner voice: Now let it be known, that cat-people are not cowards or afraid of much, besides large bodies of water. It is the presence of fear and the will to act even in the grips of it that makes this our people resilient and courageous. Infact, it was a disgruntled Lycanthrope that coined the derogatory phrase, "Scardy-cat" after being beaten multiple times by a Cat-person at a game of dice and who had refused to take anymore of the mangy mutts coin, because lets be honest...a poor dog is a pathetic thing to witness. We are kind and generous that way. Back to the story at hand...

So he ran, letting his ears track the things that was chancing him. He broke off into a less densely populated area of the woods and skidded to a halt, taking up a defensive position, arms outstretched, tail still...waiting. A few heart beats later, three Yvyrms came into view. Smirking, his sharp teeth glinting in the light, Naithos summons the elemental life force he was gifted with by birth, Ice magic. The air around him became cold, time seemed to stand still and just as the beast broke into his line of sight he thrust his arms forward and unleashed a mighty....belly grown and a puff of cold mist...fail.

He had not eaten in days and on a good day his gift would not be remarked as "WOW" but today was especially depressing given the fact that his life was on the line and he would die hungry. Just then he resolved not to perish until he had consumed his belly full of fresh wiggling hake together with his lover and long time enemy, Innga. Life was funny that way. So as the Yvyrms approached he coiled his muscles and leap into the nearest tree, jumping from branch to branch, tree to tree, searching in the dark with those glowing eyes of his. Found it! Naithos jumped down onto the ground and gathered his energies again. If mist was all he could make then mist was what they would get. Eerily cold mist rose from the very ground and thickened, covering everything until white haze blanketed all in the area. Blind but not deaf, Naithos climbs slowly up a tree's trunk and waits, dead still. Ears twitching this way and that, in the dense forest, surrounded by icy-mist, sound was amplified four times. He grinned his toothy grin then dived into the unknown.

Some time later, as the sun rose from its slumber, the Cat-person, holding his bloody shoulder, trudged into Fenia City. Got handed a some bread and coin and told to shove off unsympathetically. Friendly town he thought. With a tune on in his whistle and a spring in his strep (because he was trying to get feeling back into his calf), he proceeded to scout out the city and more importantly a general store to buy bandages so he would hopefully not bleed to dead. It would be very irritating if that happened. He had heard there were Ogre's about and wouldn't be surprised if they saw his dead body and decided to make a samwich out of him. He hoped Innga was alright...not that he would admit it to her...but he hoped.

[Innga]

Flashes of the night before kept rolling through Innga's mind: Naithos' tail disappearing into the undergrowth away from her, Yvyrms appearing as if out of nowhere, surrounding her and attempting to attack. She was darting in and out of the trees to escape, before coming to a field, where all Innga could do was run and run and run, hoping they would tire before her. Her legs burned and her chest ached; she wasn't designed to run this fast for this long. Thistles and thorns from vicious looking plants tore into her skin, but she knew she couldn't stop, not until... Finally she burst out of the foliage, turning to look behind her, only to see Yvyrms still advancing. Mustering the little strength she had left, Innga knelt at the edge of the meadow, rubbing stems of the plants in her hands and whispering an incantation. To her relief and surprise, flames began to consume the dry crops, leaping from leaf to leaf, from plant to plant.

"Good riddance," she muttered, collapsing to the floor in exhaustion, "serves them right!" Slowly, her breath began to return to normal and Innga stood, watching the burning field. Hopefully the farmer would not miss his harvest too much. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all that. Innga glanced around. Not a sign of Naithos anywhere. Swishing her tail anxiously, Innga pulled herself up a nearby tree and scouted around. Burning field...dense forest...grassland... a town? Those things were definitely not her lover and companion. With a sigh, she leant against the large trunk of the tree and wrapped her tail around herself. Well, she thought, you can either stay here and risk those things coming for you again, or you can try and get to that town and get some food.

Deciding that she was not about to sit and wait to be Yvyrm dinner, Innga hopped down from the tree, letting out a slight yowl of pain as she landed. She wouldn't be trying that again for a while. And so, she had begun her long night's journey to the town of Imperius, where she had found the shack in which she had sheltered in.

Slowly making her way down the road to Fenia, Innga suddenly felt all the air knocked from her lungs as her body flew through the air. She was being tackled by a very large, and apparantly angry, farmer. He was holding a rake in his hand and, after picking himself up from the floor, began waving it at Innga in a rather threatening manner.

"Wha' choo think ya been doin', a-burnin' all me land, see?!" At this point, the man pulled a piece of burnt straw from his oversized jacket and threw it to the ground. "I saw ye! Runnin' away las' ni'! Wat'choo playing at? You be workin' back them losses!" Grabbing Innga by the scruff of the neck, the man began dragging her back the way she had come, out toward the countryside and the field from the night before. After realising that attemping to protest only resulted in a bop on the head from the farmer's rake, Innga silently accepted her fate as an old hat was shoved onto her head, and a shovel thrust into her hand. All day she laboured in the field, sweeping up burnt plant stalks. There was no trace, however, of the creatures that had haunted her the night before.

It was at sunset that finally Innga was relieved of her duty. Exhausted, she picked up her things and plodded back to the shack, where she realised she would have to spend yet another night. Another night without Naithos, another night of worry.

[Naithos]

The thing about asking for help, even with money in hand, is that creatures, generally speaking, don’t take kindly to a bit of Sinicism and cynical humour. For instance, walking up to a she-orcy and saying something like, “Hey there big tall and angry. Got anything to stop a fella from soiling your boots.” Apparently that makes them angry…who knew.

Eventually his wit failing with his lack of blood apparent, and no natural retorts on hand, he stumbled into a temple where a priest found him on the floor. Naithos has woken up in a depressing cell with surprisingly not much in it. Having cleaned himself he had made his way to thank the priest but low and behold, charity is not given freely in this city and he was put to work cleaning the many...many windows. In the end, he fell asleep on one of the sills, was caught, broke a window by accident and fled through his newly made escape route.

So after an extremely easy getaway with no apparent signs of being pursued, he decided to go see a man about this land coupon he received when he entered the city the day before.

There he found himself, in the hub of civilized society, living the dream and standing in a long, long queue. His life was meant for little joys such as these he thought dryly. Eventually he found he was in the front of the queue by having his tail stood on by a disgruntled looking horse-thingy-looking-creature.

“Oh hello. I got this coupon for some land. I like milk. Can I have cows?” he asked the pixy behind the booth.

“No. Chickens. Plot 54, South end, two streets from the dumps. Next!” said the Pixy man who sounded like he could use a throat sweet.

“What! Don’t I get a choice you little winged imp!?” he said with abstract horror in his voice, at the rubbish terms fate was handing him.

“Yes. Move on or get -censored for your reading pleasure- squished, kitty. Little Foot!” the flying potty mouth creature said and grinned as a big troll, who was decisively not small footed, lumbered overlooking ready to swat him through the wall.

Naithos grumbled, said some choice words, grabbed his lot papers and scrambled out of there like the agile bit of feline handsomeness he was.

Sometime later he was sitting at a street corner late at night, under a street lantern, with a shifty eyed looking human, playing “beans”.

“So ye punch the Troll in the face and walked out did ye?” the human asked, shifting the cups at lightning speed.

Naithos looked over his shoulder to see if anyone could hear him and said in a bravado sort of voice, “Sure I did. Easy as plucking a chicken. Speaking of which, I put my field up for sale. Know anyone who wants a run down…er..prime bit of land?”

“Nah. Pick.” Said the man and scowled as the neko picked the right cup with the bean under it.

“Lose again, my friend. “ noticing the man looked ready to stick him with something sharp and unpleasant, he took the advice of the fortune teller he had just recently visited. “Flattery will go far tonight.” , “Why good man, you look like a moon beam that has fallen gracefully from the heavens to grace us all with your radiance.”

Well that worked wonders, he thought as he was scrambling up and over a roof, escaping the crazy human with a dagger.

Flopping down on the ninth houses rooftop, Naithos tucks his tail around his waist and curls up for the night. This city is crazy...and humourless, he thought. He felt suddenly cold, with no one at his back, keeping him warm.

“Where are you, Red.” He whispers before falling asleep from exhaustion.

[Innga]

Innga had a fitful night's sleep. She had tossed and turned on the lumpy floor of the shack. Something would have to be done about that. It was in the early hours of the morning Innga found herself counting the coins she had... acquired. There was enough to purchase a small plot of land she had seen advertised. If she was to be staying here for the near future, she may as well be earning some coin at the same time. The farmer whom she had worked for the day before had been insistent that she return for at least the next week to help fix his field. Not that Innga minded, for the farmer appeared to be rich, which meant that when he was not watching she was able to dip her hand into the human's coat pockets and sneak out a wage she deemed appropriate, which was rather a large amount; it was hard work after all, she deserved it!

As the sun rose over Imperius, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the air. It was Innga's most un-favourite person in the entire land. Farmer 'Tache as she had named him (owing to the rather large moustache the man sported), came knocking roughly at the door. With a groan, Innga heaved herself up, cold and stiff, before grabbing her possessions and shuffling over to the door. Slowly she pulled it open. Almost immediately she found herself staring at the hairy, red nose of the farmer as he shoved his face near to hers. "Now you 'ere gonna do a good job toda', none o' this funny bisnis!" Innga smelt the stale smell of alcohol on his breath. She resisted the urge to turn her head away and stared him straight in the face, glaring. Maybe that wasn't her best option, as for the rest of the day Innga worked the hardest she ever had in her life, an angry farmer whipping her heels each time she attempted to take a break.

After finally being released from her task, Innga had wandered back through the town, toward the Viceroyalty. She had been directed there after asking an elderly man about buying a plot of land, who had said that she might also be able to upgrade her lodgings. Upon arriving, a grumpy looking scribe sat behind a desk, peering at her suspiciously. "What do ye want? Citizenship? Workshop? Causing trouble?" His voice was thin and scratchy, painful to Innga's sensitive ears. She didn't want any of those things either; perhaps she had come to the wrong place.

"I was directed here to buy a field, is this the place for that?" Her head tilted slightly on the side as she asked. The man simply answered her with a grunt and slid some parchment toward her, pointing to two columns which read "Name" and "Field". He then shoved a quill into her hand and grunted again. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Innga wrote down her name, and then chose "Wheat" as her field, hoping that was acceptable. Apparently it was, for the man grunted again, handing Innga a map with a large red circle drawn over one of the plots of land. When Innga did not immediately move, the grumpy scribe pointed his finger to the door angrily, indicating that he wished her to be gone. Deciding it was best to comply with his wishes, Innga scampered off into the evening toward her new home.

[Naithos]

The day started off as any other day with his throat not having been cut in his sleep, so that was fairly promising. With the sun just rising to noon, Naithos trudged down the street to where is miserable chicken coops where situated, wondering not for the first time whether or not it would be best to burn down the lot and try claim compensation from the local government. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth he springs up on top of his rickety fence and ponders life and the horrid lies people tell an innocent handsome cat-person such as himself, his tail swaying, keeping his balance.

Naithos's narrative inner voice To put you dashing readers into context, Naithos has had, what one would call, a down in the dumps moment. Literally. Just last eve, the patrons of “Jack’s Jolly Jockstrap” Inn and bistro turfed him in the garbage in the back ally. Now to Naith’s surprise, this was achieved by a simple sequence of events. Firstly, he had procured what the vendor described as “magic beans” and instructed him to plant it and watch his richest dreams come true. So the cat-person did. Naithos had entered the Inn, ordered double milk on the rocks and planted the bean in his belly because to be frank, he was getting complaints from the neighbourhood watch about the noises emanating from his gut. Little did he know the bean was not so much magical, but chemically reactive. Let’s just say a cloud of gas filled the room moments later and let’s just say this gas was luminous pink with the source flowing suspiciously out of a unsuspicious acting Naith. How embarrassing…moving on….

Hopping down Naith kicked a stone and sent it flying against the coop to rebound back towards him. Luckily his quick reflexes allowed him to catch the stone…with this face. Rubbing his nose, Naith looked at the offending object and immediately discovered something fascinating.

Naithos's narrative inner voice Fascinating because the stone which by definition should be hard and unmoving was squishy and somewhat alive…not to mention was staring at him in the eyes.

He yelped and tried to throw the living-eyeballing-stone-creature-thingy away, but was two shakes short of a kangaroo’s tail. A radiant harsh light filled the chicken coop and POOOOOOF

Naithos's narrative inner voice A human male passing by, saw this sceptical and almost had a heart palpitation. One moment there was a Cat creature trying to throw something then there was a blinding light then there was an empty lot of land; no coops, not cat, no anything. So started the long arduous heavy drinking career followed by a hobby of polite muttering for Mr. Hasby of number 67 South End, Fenia City.

Naithos sneezed and twitched his ears. The dust settled and he found himself…where was he? Getting up he looked around confused then ran up to the nearest creature that could articulate a understandable sentence and inquired as to his whereabouts.

“Imperius! What! How did I get here!?” he shouted, scaring off the goblin child or woman or whatever it was.

Naithos's narrative inner voice Well-known fact, Goblins are vertically challenged and all look the same to Naith. But they can make a lovely pork roast when they put their minds to it.

So there he was, somehow magically transported to a city miles away by a stalkerish squishy stone creature. The fortune teller had told him” You will have a chance encounter.” Go figure. With a spring in his step and a swagger of his tail, he went to the militia office and signed up for a day’s work. He needed to beat something or someone up with little or no reprimand. City militia seems like the best place for it. The day was turning out to be a weird and wonderful day after all.

[Innga]

The rest of Innga's day had been fairly pleasant. The cottage turned out to be much nicer than the horrid old shack. A few flowers grew in the well-kept garden which, Innga noticed, had access to a crop growing area round the back of the building. It was so lovely that Innga had to check her map twice just to be certain that the place was really hers. All for a mere 100 Freznics! Inside there was a fireplace, a long wooden table with a couple of accompanying chairs, and several large rugs. Perfect for sleeping on, Innga thought. The field was not at all bad either; the house came with a large plot of land and a sack of seeds for planting were propped against the back wall of the cottage. However, Innga was certainly not going to be working two fields in one day, she would have to hire someone. She had heard that becoming a reputable employer was important for advancing in the town though, so setting about hiring workers would only be an advantage anyhow. Even though it was late in the day, Innga managed to drag in some poor soul off of the street to work throughout the night for her. Thoroughly exhausted, Innga had called it a day and curled up to sleep on the rug after starting a warm, comforting fire to get her through the night.

The next morning, or afternoon as it turned out to be, Innga woke naturally; there was no farmer calling at her door. This was not a surprise to her, thanks to a potion she had purchased from an old lady the night before last. Innga did not have a clue what it did, all she had been told was that if she put it in the farmer's food, all her troubles would run away. Always one to follow instructions, she had tipped the substance in the farmer's vodka the day before. Although the man hadn't appeared to be in pain, he had looked rather uncomfortable all day. Innga had wondered what the potion was doing to the man, but never bothered to find out.

After stretching herself out, Innga decided that she should begin some formal training in the arena, before setting out to try and find Naithos later in the afternoon. The war in which she had fought in had been many long years ago, meaning her skills were now somewhat lacking. It was not far to the training ground, so she made good time. What appeared to be a half-giant was standing at the entrance, guiding in newcomers. Beside him on the ground sat a basket of fresh looking eggs with a "For Sale" sign on them. Unsure of the use of eggs in a training ground (unless they were to throw at the unlucky someone who took a particularly bad shot), Innga wandered over the the half-giant and enquired as to their use.

"Them eggs be fer improvin' yer handwork skills," he explained in a gruff voice, "Juggle a couple of them an' you be on yer way to becomin' a prime warrior. But ya got teh buy them firs'." The giant extended his hand expectantly. With a sigh, Innga handed over some of her hard earned Freznics and picked three eggs from the basket. She entered the training ground, lightly tossing them into the air and catching each one. There were many different creatures all practicing at the ground, some doing pell work, others in the heat of a fierce duel. After deeming herself a safe distance away from the rest of the trainees, Innga decided to have a go at this juggling the giant seemed so keen on. Two eggs in one hand, one in the other, she projected them high into the air. One egg sailed over the weapons tent. Another flew across the grounds, landing on an unsuspecting elf's head. The final egg whooshed straight up...and down. Positioning herself underneath it, Innga jumped and caught the egg rather skilfully. One out of three...not bad. Pleased with her juggling work Innga then took some time to do some pell work of her own, practicing using her bare fists. Although she hadn't done any recent practice, she felt some of the muscle memory from old times begin to return, and improved dramatically throughout the session.

A good practice completed, Innga decided to take the path home that lead through the forest. It was a beautiful day and she wanted to take the time to explore the lands before leaving for Fenia Town. Crisp, autumn leaves crunched underfoot, and the sun peeked through the branches of the trees which were becoming ever barer at the winter approached. Happily, Innga jumped in and out of leaf piles, occasionally diverting to chase a stray leaf which fluttered through the air.

Suddenly, a noise in the distance caused every muscle in her body to freeze. Darting behind a tree, Innga peered out to see a creature in the uniform of the town militia approaching. A flicker of blue hair attracted her attention; it looked like Naith! It was time for some fun! Scampering up a tree which still had most of its leaves, Innga grabbed a leaf from one of the branches. It was as dry as a bone, perfect. Gently, she rubbed it in her hands as she blew on it, and before long, the leaf caught alight. Gently releasing it from her hands, Innga guided the leaf toward the one she believed to be Naithos. At least, she did hope it was him as she repeated she process a number of times, sending a cascade of fiery leaves toward him. Although they would appear to be a danger, the spell she had activated would in fact cause a tickling sensation to anyone who touched them. It was time for the amusement to begin.