The harbor

[merel]

With bright blue eyes she eyed the green mantis with a piercing gaze, only to quickly shift her attention back to the scroll draped across her knees. A feather hastily scratched down the notions as she came to the conclusion that it was a common mantis with a strange blue coloration upon it’s back.
Another mutation, perhaps caused by the ashes of destruction. So many of them she had registered.
With a sigh she now opened the glass to free the insect. Her job was done for the day and thus keeping the insect locked up would be unnecessary. And the pointy rock she had taken as a seat here on the beach had become rather painful by now…

Aalycia slowly collected her scrolls and maps and shoved her goggles around her neck again. Realizing that sooner or later she HAD to return to her mother’s place for shelter yet again. Her lips wringled in disgust as she knew she currently had no other option then to rely on the overreacting mother, the only other option was to sleep on the street…
Normally you wouldn’t suspect someone to be so unhappy with staying at a family’s place, but with a mother so focused on arranging a marriage for her daughter even you would die for some freedom.

Thank god Red Ax did offer a variety of species passing by. Especially here nearby the harbor there was always something new to discover. From an unusually colored Snerf to a recently caught monster from the Wastelands. If something would pass Red Ax, it would pass it over sea…
So now yet again as sun would not drop down behind the horizon yet, Aalycia set off towards the fisherman and their boats. In the hope to catch word of something that might spike her interest…

[suck start haha, still need to get used to her]

[Locke (DP)]

The fel’asar never liked the Red Axe for the only food here was fish. Carden was not an option for the rogue, as he considered himself above a common thief. Associating himself with that city was associating himself with scum. The pickings were better here in Red Axe, where people actually lived, and he never had to be stealthy as a necessity. Stealing just to get by was for the pitiful- Ilvyn Daleroth wasn’t so dense and he had some pride in his business. Suffering through regular servings of fish was such a miniscule dilemma in comparison.

That evening, Ilvyn managed to crack open a chest he had heard was full of valuables. Lifting the top, he was greeted with the sight of valuable clothes and paintings; belongings of noble people no doubt. Shifting through the chest, he found nothing of use, but many items he could sell for gold. There was one problem. The rogue would never be able to lift this massive chest alone and it would look suspicious if he meandered through Red Axe carrying paintings, expensive clothing, and jewels.

Poking his head up and glancing around, the fel’asar surveyed the area. Sailors still ambled back and forth, moving crates and luggage, but no one was in his immediate area. Knowing there were a few creatures of the folk that watched the docks he was wary of animals as well. Seagulls fluttered about a mile off of shore, but everyone was starting to settle down for the evening. The boy’s red eyes settled on a woman that appeared to be coming back from the shore with scrolls in tow. Ilvyn had no idea who she was or of her profession, but he could judge she wasn’t a sailor and was of a higher class (in contrast to Ilvyn). A wicked smile crossed his lips and he pulled a cloak over his hair before slinking across the docks towards the woman.

“I noticed you walking all alone with those heavy scrolls,” he proclaimed, flashing a fanged grin as a sign of friendliness (the effect was most likely inverse). “Perhaps you’d like some help?”

Holding out his arms, he made the offer to carry some of her bundle. Ilvyn had no interest in stealing her scrolls, unless they contained some precious information he could use to get rich. It was the woman he needed. The fel’asar expected her to turn down his offer, but he had to try. Gullibility varied from person to person- hopefully she was naïve enough to think he was just a friendly face (it would be hard to look past his horns and red eyes).

“I have some extra space in my trunk,” Ilvyn informed her. “Perhaps we can carry the scrolls and put them in there? I’ll help you if you help me….you see, I can’t move this trunk all by myself and the guy who said he was going to help me up and vanished. Probably getting drunk in some pub. You know how these sailors are. I just need to carry the trunk to the nearest trade; it’s full of old things I don’t really need anymore. Once I get it there we can take the scrolls out, eh? I can help you carry ‘em home if you’d like.”

[merel]

A bit cranky in the end, the female tugged at the scrolls in her arms, she should have brought another bag for these darn things. With a groan she blew a string of dark blond hair out of her face and continued her journey to wards her mother’s place. Oh joy…

“I noticed you walking all alone with those heavy scrolls. Perhaps you’d like some help?”

Caught by surprise the female looked up at the man’s voice, only to be confronted with the face of a Fel’asar! Nearly she would have dropped her valuable notes as she goggled the unfamiliar face. It was not done out of fear or hate, but an extremely simple curious gaze which sucked in every detail of the strangely shaped man.
It was a sad truth that her hands already were filled with papers and the like, otherwise she would grabbed her ruler and other metric devices which were settled in the backpack and would have jumped the man literary.
So she was unconscious saved by a bunch of papers this mere moment…

Oblivious to the male’s intentions she now smiled at the toothy grin which was given her. (which gave her a chance to count his canines and molars for a few seconds). And she took a step closed to the pinkish colored humanoid to take notion of the black sclera of his eyes. He certainly was a prime example of his own species and honestly the last time when she had encountered a Fel’asar had been six years ago!
Finally Aalycia realized though that staring in mere silence would only make the situation more awkward then it already was, and gave an embarrassed giggle.

“I have some extra space in my trunk, perhaps we can carry the scrolls and put them in there? I’ll help you if you help me….you see, I can’t move this trunk all by myself and the guy who said he was going to help me up and vanished. Probably getting drunk in some pub. You know how these sailors are. I just need to carry the trunk to the nearest trade; it’s full of old things I don’t really need anymore. Once I get it there we can take the scrolls out, eh? I can help you carry ‘em home if you’d like.”

“Well.. I guess that is possible.” She smiled a but uncertain. What if he would drop them in the dirt? She would loose a massive amount of praying mantis information….
At the other hand, if she would allow him, he would walk a bit with her and she would have a fine opportunity to measure his set of horns. With that thought she nearly pushed all her scrolls in the arms of the male. Not even having a simple thought pass about the man’s intentions.

“Well, let’s go to your trunk then!” She exclaimed while she pulled out a flexible rope like ruler when she had managed to get a free arm without scrolls. Eying the male now in a kind of awkward way trough her half round glasses...

[Locke (DP)]

Staring wide-eyed at Ilvyn, the boy mistook her expression as fear. The grin he wore twitched from uncertainty. On an optimistic note, if she decided to run away, she would most likely drop her scrolls. Ilvyn was curious as to what was in them, although he doubted it was much. She didn’t run, but froze on the spot. The fel’asar fancied she was pissing her pants from fright.

A mere second later she returned the smile. On her face it was as innocent as it looked. She even laughed. Perhaps she was only briefly taken aback at the sight this odd individual appearing off of the docks. Ilvyn probably wouldn’t get a look at the insides of the scrolls, but his little con would run more smoothly if she was compliant. The rogue didn’t expect find a more suitable target for hours, so he had to seize the opportunity while it lasted.

Looking uncertain, it looked as she wouldn’t let him carry her scrolls out of mistrust. If she did not consent to his assistance, it was no bother to him, as long as he had an extra body to help him move the chest. Carrying the whole lot by herself would ruin Ilvyn’s good image, and he couldn’t look like a thieving scoundrel. Luckily for him, she changed her mind and decided to dump the whole load in his arms. Scrambling not to drop any, Ilvyn steadied the pile in his arms. Strange as it was, he was feeling mighty grateful she had trusted him this once.

Spinning around, Ilvyn walked back to the chest he had left behind. Failing at ignoring the girl, he eyed her every few seconds. Why was she looking at him so strangely? Why was she getting so close to him? More often than not it was a turn-on to have women ogling over him and invading his personal space, but she was acting peculiar. The woman was doing a poor job at flirting with him if that was the case. Ilvyn never imagined he would be veering away from something that had boobs, but he had to if he wanted to be able to walk without falling flat on his face or dropping her scrolls. Hoping to get to the chest shortly, he quickened his pace.

“By the way,” he said off-handedly as they approached the trunk. “You can call me Vyn.”

Slamming his hoof against the top, he flipped the lid over, balancing so impeccably as to not fall over or drop anything. The instant it was open, Vyn pitched the armful of scrolls inside. The fel’asar hoped the girl was naïve enough to not inquire where all the elegant clothes and expensive paintings had come from. Ilvyn now only needed her to help him carry the heavy chest. Slamming the top down once everything was inside, Ilvyn rounded the trunk and grabbed onto a side handle and waited until she got into ready position.

“Halfway done,” he told her. “This is the hardest part anyways. We have a half-a-mile to walk up a steep hill so I hope you’ve been working out.”

Straining his muscles to life the chest, Vyn managed such a feat with ease. Noodley in appearances, it was hard to see where the fel’asar got his strength. Most were not aware of his unorthodox professions, one of them being a brute-force fighter. The rogue was nowhere near having the sheer power of the strongest sailors, but he could hold his own and carry a good portion of loot. What good of a thief would he have been otherwise, a mere pickpocket? The idea made him laugh. The fel’asar had bigger fish to fry than wasting his time on pocket change. Ilvyn was forced to be fit if he was to live a lifestyle such as this.

Ilvyn and his chest didn’t even make it halfway up the bank of the shore when he saw lantern light headed their way. Mumbling a string of profanities, Vyn had a funny feeling his luck was about the run out the moment a city guard stepped out of the streets and made a beeline towards the pair. Considering dropping the loot and running, leaving the girl to deal with the authorities, it took all his willpower to stay put. Running would only make him look more suspicious. No way did this guard know what was going on…right? The rogue had to stop himself from telling the girl to ‘act natural’. Ilvyn was the only one engaged in any criminal activity here.

“What are you doing with that chest?” The man demanded. The human’s dark eyes were fixed to Ilvyn. “Stealing something, fel’asar?”

“No, sir,” Ilvyn answered. “I’m only trading some goods I don’t need anymore.”

The look the man gave him could be summed up in one word: bullshit. Vyn wasn’t believed for a second and may have well said he was a flying magical pig…but, maybe those actually existed. Deciding that seeing what was in the trunk instead of believing the word of some young fel’asar (he couldn’t be blamed) the man forced them to drop the trunk and flipped the lid open. The greeting he received was not that of loot, for all he saw was a bundle of scrolls that nearly covered the entire top of the trunk.

“I told you,” Ilvyn said, which promptly earned him a hard slap across the face for back-talking. “Motherfu-“

The guard slammed the lid down as Ilvyn clutched his cheek. “You haven’t seen any rogue witches have you?” Now he looked over the woman, suspicious that she was a witch. “We’ve been having problems with those trying to avoid taxes.”

“I don’t know no witches,” Ilvyn grumbled. “If she was a witch she could probably just magic this thing to walk on its own and we wouldn’t be carrying it up a hill. If yer a witch you better speak up now. What kind of witch would be so stupid to hang out in Red Axe anyways?”

The guard moved towards Ilvyn as if to hit him again and the fel’asar flinched and stepped backwards. Ilvyn could always kill the bastard, but that would ruin his cover in Red Axe. Maybe he would repay the favor when the man went to sleep that night. After he took care of this loot business anyways.
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[OoC: I assumed a lot of things when I wrote this, so if you don’t want something to happen or if you want it to happen differently, feel free. I just hoped it would push the story forward a little, rather than having two posts of them carrying a trunk up a hill. Also: noodley is not a word, but I couldn’t resist.]