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Keeping Pride [Backstory] - Nyagi Yhistarok - 12-13-2014
Blood blinds her left eye. Pouring from a gash across her brow, another across her nose, there was no time to contemplate her situation. Only as she found the ground beneath her feet, daggers drawn, did she realize. It was a set-up.
She stills her mind. There would be time to piece it all together. Before that, though, she had to survive. She knew before the job that none she'd meet that day would have well intentions toward her. She prepared for the possibility of a ruse.
"Expect the unexpected, an' prepare accordingly. But ultimately, remember which side of the blade yer on."
A personal approach to her profession, that was the code she was taught to abide by. If she hadn't, those cuts might have been that much deeper and it wouldn't just have been her feet finding solid ground.
As the miqo'te, swift of mind, and swifter of body, pressed away from the ground beneath her, she dodged yet another cheap shot from her opponent. In her world, there was no display of arms. No grandiose acrobatics. No martial art. Her pursuer wanted her dead. It was that simple.
"No sens'a pride..." she'd default to that thought. Even now, her mind focused on that statement; still in that resolve.
She took flight from her would-be assassin, soon as she could get a proper step. It was all she had in her to dodge the fast bladework, her petite size and counter parries giving her only so much leeway. Unfortunately she had run out of space in a matter of seconds.
They were in a small storehouse, with boat rigging and miscellaneous boxes. Two had walked in. The miqo'te's attacker sought for only one to walk out.
RE: Keeping Pride [Backstory] - Nyagi Yhistarok - 12-14-2014
Nyagi Yhistarok. A black Miqo'te, Keeper, raised under the docks of Limsa Lominsa since she was a little kit by a small sect off the rogue's guild. She grew up living about as normal of a raising one would expect in that environment, learning from her tutor and friends, ever an up and coming rogue, destined to work under Jacke himself. There were times she'd slip into the temptation of common thievery now and again, a pick pocket here, a swindle there. But she always had her friends and teachers close by to set her straight, if ever she went too far.
So why then was she finding herself fleeing for her life? What changed to make it so that someone she once called friend was now trying to make sure she never saw the outside of that little shack's walls? She was expecting a ruse, yes. But it would be a fair stretch of the mind to think she was completely prepared for her best mate to be the one to show a different side. The sharp of his blade, this opposing rogue's "kiss", stung on her face. If she were to find answers, she'd have to first find her exit, as she was quickly being backed into a corner of the shack.
A rope catches her foot as she makes another parry, and she hooks it's coils on her heel, dodging the next attack while kicking it into the fray. An opening to sidestep her pursuer, she dives for the door, knocking some boxes of supplies on the ground, further complicating the two from meeting blades again. In a matter of seconds and a few close passes, she now was between her attacker and the door, throwing a shoulder against the grain, and the door swung wide.
A blinding flash of light, the sun was rising just over the sea and shined through the doorway, giving Nyagi time to make her escape. She jumped into the waters of the harbor and swam off underneath the surface. The rogue runs out the door after her, but does not jump in. Another rogue shows to have not been far off, and both were familiar to Nyagi. Once her dear friends, they agree that she won't show her face any time soon and so they walk off down the docks.
Nyagi, under the water's surface, sees through the ripples of the water the two rogues. She remained still under the water long enough to be sure, she was a fairly good free diver, surfacing under the docks in that quiet section of Limsa's trade district. Clambering up back on the docks, she takes care that the coast is clear. The morning frost still hung in the shadows of that quiet harbor and she pulls off her boots, shaking the water from her gear as best she can. Her breath puffed and soon her body shivered from being damp that cool morning.
As she strapped back on her leather belts and secured her weapons, her thoughts run and rerun the events of that early morning, trying to figure things out. Where did she miss it? Was she really that oblivious the whole time? She searched her memories as she took her leave of the docks and slipping back to the shadows of the market streets and then the outskirts of the town. There was no shortage of safe havens for a sneak as she in and around Limsa's harbors, and with a trained step, she manages to make her way, remaining unnoticed.
Finally, as the mid-morning sun continued to rise that first bell, she sighs with some relief, having found her favorite cove unspoiled. Growing up as an orphaned Miqo'te can make those like her one of but a few dispositions. They all share a natural will to survive, but -how- they choose to survive can vary from cat to cat. Be it in the arms of strangers, earning their keep by sacrificing their bodies; there are some, such as she however, who default to distrusting the common man, taking from others what they needed to survive, and keeping to a few abandoned corners of the city's harbor where they could take shelter from the wind and rain of the coastal local. It was mearly chance she didn't remain a reclusive "dock-dodger", being taken underwing by the rogues of Limsa Lominsa. Make no mistake though, she still kept a secret or two of her own in spite of the hospitality shown towards her those many years ago. It was in her nature.
She strikes her flint and starts a fire in the cliffside recess, hanging her cloth and leather on a line to dry properly. She looked out toward the ocean horizon, a sea breeze picked up as the weather turned warmer. From her humble place of sanctuary, she can see ships coming and leaving the city, their trades varying from the honest to the horrid. She had developed an eye for most of the ships that frequented her shores, knowing which were likely to conduct business of the illegal sort. Be it smugglers or slavers, she sometimes wondered in her youth how such attrocities could continue as they did in this modern age of commerce.
She stretches, arching her back as a cat would, yawning before a sudden wince. She'd forgotten her face was cut. It was a wonder to even herself, as surely the salt of the seawater would have alerted her sooner, but she was slowly letting go of the stress and figured her body was suppressing her pain up until that moment. She takes from her pack a vial of medicinal cream, drawing it on her face with a finger, to soothe the open cuts. She takes her dagger and wipes the side of it, buffing some shine into it. She reaches into her pack and takes out a leather repair kit. As one could imagine, using even the smallest needle and thread she had in her kit would be brutal and she had only the thin side of her blade as a mirror. Nevertheless, she endures some measure of pain and is able to tend to her wound. "...Tha's definitely leavin' a scar..." she sighs as she looks over the stitch work. As for the cut on her nose, she had to make due with a simple bandage.
At last, with injuries addressed, she sighs, leaning back on a patch of moss that had crept into her cove months earlier that spring. As high risk her profession would put her in time and again, she learned that things were just how they were and could slip into a relaxed state. Who knew when she'd get that next chance? She continues to mill over the day and of her past with those two rogues. She rolls her eyes as she gives a sigh. For once in a long while, she couldn't relax and take her mind off things. In her past she could easily throw her cares to the trade winds, no matter how messed things might have been, but today made her question. Everything.
"Ye got spunk, ye do lass."
For once, just for once, the while the weather was holding that sunny day on the streets of Limsa Lominsa, the little Miqo'te wanted to actually get out there and peruse the goods fresh off the ships. It was a new week and exotic shipments were in season. A myriad of food and leathers not common to La Noscea had come from one of the new trade fleets. This was not a common influx of trade but what added to the unusually busy traffic of consumers and business was the recent erecting of the Aetheryte in the Octant. Now not only did the city streets bustle with locals and long haulers, so too now was the population saturated with adventurers of every likeness and pursuit.
And there sat Nyagi, plopped on her rump and being schooled by her seasoned colleague. She burned in the face with arrogance, tail twitching with annoyance. Worst yet, she hated to be talked down to. And today of all days. If only she could be left to her own devices, instead of being swamped by the recent string of lessons she was forced to undertake. She was sure her tutor took a cruel pleasure in keeping her from what she wanted to do. Much less to enjoy the anonymity of the crowds that -she- was obviously not going to be allowed to slip into.
She huffs as she stands, resuming her rogue stance, her pose was that of a young kit, still not keeping her center of balance low and the tutor shook his head as he resumed today's lesson. "Ye gotta keep on yer toes 'n heels equally." he spoke with a tone, implying he'd said similar things to her time and time again with little progression on her part to let his instruction sink in. "Ye ain't gunna be fast on yer feet if yer as stiff as ye are with that kin'da stance, lass. Don' ye get it yet? I kin sweep ye off yer feet from at least four ways from where 'm lookin'."
"Cum 'on, yo! I ain't got m'mind fer all this annoyin' trainin' ye keep puttin' me through. 'Ow in bloo'y 'ells am aye gunna dodge e'ry thin yer throwin' at me wen I kin't e'en change m'direction tha' fast?" Nyagi snapped back, her tone equally as arrogant as her expression, roughly accented from a mix of sailor tongue she'd been exposed to since a babe. "Aye... kin't we jus' call 'er a day? Ay'ben at it fer three weeks straight, wit lil' mor than an evenin's rest."
"Ye ain't pickin' up on yer trainin' like I want ye. I know yer better than tha'." the tutor replied. The Miqo'te bristled with anger, "Ye kin't be serious? I kin do e'ry thin ye ben throwin' at me jus' fien. Yer pro'ly usin' som sor'a crazy magic ta be movin' as fast as ye are. Ye jus' don' wan' me ta 'ave any fun. Ye don' trust me ta leave yer sight fer no'in..!"
The hyur sighed, rubbing his brow, "Ye can complain all ye wan', but don' think fer a minute I'm gonna trust ye after last time. 'm still cleanin' up yer mess with the yellajackets an' the only reason yer not rottin' in a cell fer yer impudence is cuz I sent 'em on a wild goose chase."
"Aye don' care! I coul'da 'andled m'self jus' fien. 'sides tha, Aye--" she was cut off by being seated on her rump again with a plop from a simple leg sweep of her tutor. "Oof! ...'Ey! Aye wuz'nt e'en rea'y!" she rubs her backside, dropping her daggers. The tutor does not hesitate in that instant and kicks up the dagger from her side, in a quick turnaround, pressing the hilt of it against Nyagi's ribs, "Oi! Wut do I keep tellin' ye?" he shouts at her while pinning her down by the hilt of her own dagger, "Never let yer weapon touch tha dirt. Yer nothin' but a jellyfish awash the shore, disarmed."
"G-grr!" Nyagi grunted while staring defiantly at the hyur with her sharp glare. The man backhands her, "Ye take tha look o'f yer face righ' now ye got'it?" he yells, shoving the dagger against her before kicking the other one at her feet as he stood back up, "Ye got spunk, ye do lass. But ye jus' don' understand 'ow ta choose yer fights."
"Piss off!" Nyagi retorts while wiping the scuff off her face, hiding the tear knocked from her for being struck. She sits there in a pout. This behavior was clearly unacceptable to the hyur and he grabs her by the hair, giving her head a shake, "Git yer head outta yer ass an' knock the attitude off." Nyagi wincing, "Argh..." she peers at him still defiantly as he grips her by the scalp. A brief staredown and she yields. The tutor pushes her head down as he releases her, "Now take yer sharps an' stance. We'll do this all day again. We'll keep doin' it til ye get it righ' or till I knock yer head clean off yer shoulders, we will." he gives his sleeves a tug, loosening his own tension.
The two resume their stances and Nyagi is made to practice until the sun sets for the last bell that spot of training. "..." Nyagi was dirty and sore by the end of the day, same as it had been for weeks, and she looks disgruntled as she is rejoined with her friends. Some pat her back, consoling her, while others boast at their own accomplishments of the day. The tutor rejoins his fellow rogues for the evening giving his head a shake as he appeared to have made little progress yet again with his student. The others give their respective responses, some agreeing, some suggesting Nyagi was not fit to continue her training. All in all, the end of another mundane day.
There Nyagi's mind slips back into reality. Perhaps she'd dozed off and dreamt of days long past when things weren't so complicated. The sun was rising over the horizon for another bell, her fire had gone out but the coals were still warm. Life post calamity was odd in some ways, with locked seasons and fast days, but that was just how things were nowadays. Most everyone, Nyagi included, adapted well enough and Nyagi had a good sense of how long she'd been out.
She dresses and stokes the fire to warm herself up a bit better before opening her pack of supplies. Water washed, "Hmm... so much for that." she pulls out some wads of paper from amongst her things. It had been a few notes, and one being a writ of sale. She shakes her head as she sets out a leather repair kit she had rolled up in a moleskin, a pair of loaded dice, a whetstone, some vials with dry herbs in it, until she found some jerky wrapped in a large bayleaf, still dry thankfully. She tears off a strip of meat and lets it hang in her mouth as she puts back her belongings.
The call of gulls and the strike of a bell in the not so distant harbor of Limsa signals Nyagi to look a glance out to sea again. She watches the waters, teeming with life as birds above and fish below feast on the krill come to the coast. She spots a rowboat in the distance. Her keen eyes can aught but make out familiar colors, however before she sees a glint of light and something darting past her lit cove. An arrow struck fast to the sandstone, accurate as ever from such a distance. She ducks back into her cove and scoops up her belongings. Whoever that was, and they seemed familiar indeed, they had taken aim and tried to off her right there. It was possible that arrow would have found it's mark had Lymlaen's grace not granted a rogue gust to turn the path of the arrow ever so slightly to Nyagi's right.
Nyagi would be cornered if she stayed any longer, and dashed out of cover for the hillside past the cliffs she thought were safe. Someone had knowledge of her, how else could they have found her? At this point Nyagi figured she'd worn her welcome and she still hadn't connected the dots as to why now she was being pursued by rogue members? She had only one person left to turn to. Only one person she could trust to have any hope of sorting things out.
"...Aksel..." she muttered under her breath as she turned a hill. A few more arrows are loosed on her, but she dashes through some trees and quickly leaves sight of the coast.
RE: Keeping Pride [Backstory] - Nyagi Yhistarok - 01-02-2015
The rising wind swept over the coastline, gulls calling in the distance. The bow rose then fell, waves rolling and rocking the small rowboat as the two idled in the wake of the bay for a moment. She looses one last arrow and cants her head to the side, stowing the bow as she gave a pouting expression. The man, standing behind her, peered through his spyglass as the corner of his mouth gave a tug to the side, flashing some bottom teeth.
"..." He peers for a bit longer at the coastline before sighing and collapsing his spyglass, giving a shake of his head.
"...What?" She half-turned her head.
"Ye missed." The Roegadyn man stated, his tone hinting at doubt.
"Yeah, I know. What of it?" The female hyur said passively.
The Roegadyn male rubbed his brow between his thumb and forefinger, sighing, "Ye know, call me crazy but, I have a mind ta think ye were gonna turn this into one of your little games o' cat an' mouse."
The hyur chuckles a bit to herself, raising her shoulders, "I'm afraid if that were true, this is the most ironic game ever played."
The Roegadyn replied with a gruff snort, "We ain't gettin' paid ta chase stray tail til tha bloomin' fifth bell."
"That is if we're getting paid at all." The hyur rests her head on her elbow, planted on her lap. She blows a greasy blonde curl out of her face, most of her hair wrapped up in a bandana and tied in the back, "This ain't no different than the last twenty or so we've been sent to clean up."
The Roegadyn runs a hand across his face, "And ta think all of them, each damn one we spent a bloody week or more trackin' because of yer sadistic habit o' playing with your food."
The woman laughed, "You make me sound like some sort of sea witch."
"Sometimes I wonder if ye might be." The man rolled his eyes as he grabbed for the oars of the rowboat.
The woman looked out across the coastline as the Roegadyn began rowing them back to the distant harbors of Limsa, "It's been a while since..." she halfway spoke to herself, "Hmm?" The man replied. "Nothing." she shook her head and continued to scan the coastline. The Roegadyn man raises an eyebrow but keeps rowing for the docks on the horizon.
"...It's a bit of a concern though, don't you think?" she said after a while. "What is?" he asked. "They're getting careless."
"Did ye come up with tha' on yer own just now, V? O' course it's concernin'. God's we're slaughterin' good men an' women. One's we could use..."
"That just makes it all the more fun! It's almost half a challenge at times, hee hee." The woman laughed at the thought. "...Ye ain' helpin' yer cause, ye damn harpy." The Roegadyn maintained an unimpressed expression for the woman, still rowing.
The woman stretches her arms, lacing her fingers together and bending them backwards as she sighed, before leaning back to look at the Roegadyn man upside down, "Don't take me for a fool. I know what we're doing is no good for the greater cause. Gods know I hate that -she- had to be the one to stick her nose where she aught not have." The man looks down at her and smirks, "Are you tryin' ta suggest there might be a heart at tha' icy center o' yers?" The Roegadyn teased back. "Aww, come now Ronny. How else do you define me from a common monster, if I don't hold -some- empathy?" V taunted.
"Oi!" Ronny rocked the boat, causing V to fall further back and get stuck on her head, "How many times do I gots ta tell ye? It's Ronnemyst. Ronne-myst. Get it righ'." he emphasized on 'myst'. V flailed about a bit, Ronnemyst leaning to one side to avoid a rogue kick in the jaw, before she recovered and sat back up, "Hey!" her bandana had undone and frazzled her hair, greasy blonde curls everywhere, "Fine, -Ronnemyst-." she said his name with an arrogant tone, and an even more displeasing expression.
V looked out towards the approaching docks of Limsa, "You think the boss'll ask us to stay up all night looking for her?" "...Wut does yer conscious incline ye ta think?" The Roegadyn raised an eyebrow as he rowed the boat under a shadowy dock and into a quiet station. In fact, it was the same stretch of docks with the shack Nyagi had been nearly cornered in. V gives a shrug and pulls up some rope as they ease to the dock, fastening the boat.
Ronnemyst set away the oars and took a long step out of the boat. He had the typical wear of a sailor, white shirt, large belt buck around his waist holding up easy wearing pants, he had a cutlass on his hip. With an enterlaced hilt of silver and gold hues, it looked strikingly more intricate than the rest of his outfit. His jackboots came up to his knees and he tightened a loose fasten on it's side, before adjusting the fingerless gloves he wore. He had a red bandana, nothing special, but covered the tight greying brown curls of his hair. His had a broad typical stature of a Roegadyn his age, perhaps a bit taller. His face, a sea green tint, bore a few scrapes and cuts, he fancied a short beard, tight to his wide jawline. He stretched as he stood on those shadowy docks, winding one arm and then the next before turning to offer a hand up to V.
She raised an eyebrow as she took his hand and Ronnemyst effortlessly pulls her out of the boat and onto the damp wooden dock. V stood about as tall as the middle of Ronnemyst's chest, shorter than the average Hyur but not too short. Her yellow blonde-curled hair was affixed back underneath her green bandana she wore, with the tail of her hair poking curls out the back, it all was held together in a knot in the back. She always had a curl or two that fell down her forehead though, she'd pretend it was a hinderance now and then but it was obviously a style choice of hers. She had fair preportions for her slim body type, her arms were a bit more defined though, the result of being a well trained archer. Of course that also meant calloused hands, and some scarring on her bow arm from not always taking care to wear protection when using her weapon of choice. She was in her typical garb that rising bell. What could be counted for little more than tatters, the cloth she had wrapped around her midsection was knotted in the back, showing off her wicked tattoo, a tribal design resembling a Leviathan curling around her shoulder. She too wore typical easy-wearing pants, except she had cut off the leggings at the knee and the ends were raveled. Her fair skinned legs were covered by knee-high boots, and she had a dagger slipped into the right boot's handmade sheath.
As the two were situating their gear, the sound of someone walking slowly down the docks was heard. Ronnemyst looks as the hyur man approached them. The man was of average height, his boots 'tap-tapped' as he approached, hands behind his back and looking rather non-chalant as he walked. "So..." the man said as he took a step toward the edge of the dock and looked in the rowboat, "I see you two have returned empty handed."
Ronnemyst shrugged his broad shoulders, "Well, if it weren't fer certain people bein' sadists, we'd have sommin." He kicked V in the back of her boot, as she had crouched and was facing away, tying up a bag of their stuff. She stumbles a bit and turns around, "Don't worry. I got it all figured out." she spoke confidently, standing and giving Ronne and the other man a smirk and nod.
The man nodded a few times before walking back down the quiet pier. As he left, he cooly said with a dismissive wave, "Well, if it's all the same... try to not take so long with this one."
Ronne and V watch as the man walked off in the same slow fashion, "...V, fer once, would ye try not gettin' m'ass on tha choppin' block an' just do a job righ' an' timely? I feel like tha' was the quiet affore tha storm, if ye catch m'meanin'." Ronnemyst sounded somewhat winded as he spoke. "Hmm?" V was busying herself with a greasy bang. Intentional as it was, Ronne sighs, shaking his head. He knew she was spot on task, but her method of action was still disconcerting for him.
The two hoist a bag of gear and supplies, Ronne obviously made to carry the heavier stuff, and the also head down the pier and soon back into the bustling streets of Limsa's afternoon rush. It was mid-bell and the streets were packed with merchants and adventurers alike, each headed toward some endeavor or the next. Ronne wade through the crowds as V followed closely behind. The two purchased some provisions and V swiped herself a fancy snack as she passed one of the exotic foodstalls lined down a market street. Before long the last bell of the day was setting as they left the city and to La Noscea's countryside, back up north.
"Well, V? Are you gonna jus' track her like ya's were on a hunt or sommat?" Ronne hoisted his bag of luggage up higher on his shoulder. "Mmm... nah." She replied. They walked along the trail more and Ronne asked, "So... ye ain't gonna even give me a little hint as ta what yer thinkin'?"
"Nope." V kept walking along, gazing at the scenery on the trail. Ronne grumbled to himself a bit, but again, he knew she had things figured out. He'd worked with her all those other twenty or so times and had come to expect her plan did involve him in some manner, but each time he played the idot in her plans and was generally oblivious until the target was eliminated. He preferred to know what was going on and so he still made the effort to ask what might be awaiting them when they got to... wherever it was they were headed, or doing, or-- "No." he shoke his head as he spoke to himself. It would only madden him to try and guess what was going on in V's head.
"Hmm?" V said, making a tonal connotation that resembled Ronne's own cant earlier on the rowboat. "..." Ronne looks at V and then looks ahead with a smirk, "...Nevermind." he grinned. V looked at Ronne for a moment, eyes studying his expression, and then shook the bang from her forehead and stared back down the trailhead.
RE: Keeping Pride [Backstory] - Nyagi Yhistarok - 02-01-2015
(I'm having a character redesign. This is up for fun to read and I might continue the story later, but meh, it's not something I'm feeling and so I'm gonna drop this to alternate reality status and not to be taken ICly)