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Old February 15th, 2013, 08:42 PM
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revlis
Ooh, Ooh! I vote makeovers!
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Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Syndicate HQ
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Nature: Modest

Victoria “Alys” Taimor – Dalenham


Once everyone had made it out of the tavern alive, some even running back in to stir up more of a ruckus, Varian signalled for everyone to break up. If they were to meet up tomorrow morning at the gates, then that gave Alys plenty of time to explore Dalenham; not that there was much to offer save for the markets.

A fluttering caught her attention as a pair of talons sunk into the hard leather hide of her shoulder plate. “Castiel!” Alys called as the Falcon squawked on her shoulder. Reaching up, she gentle scratched the bird’s neck by the shoulder blade.

Alys had only met Castiel a couple of years ago, and the bird was already full sized. Alys had helped exterminate an infestation of fire-ferrets on a farm in the lower regions of Falke. She had gotten more than a couple of burns, but nothing major and in thanks, the man taught her how to train Falcons; eventually gifting one to her in thanks.

For now, Alys cruised through the night markets of Dalenham, beautifully lit by the many different coloured lanterns that lay strung between the fronts of shops. The night markets were perhaps more extravagant than the markets during the day; often selling rare, exquisite and more… dangerous goods. As she walked past each shop, she took a look at the goods on offer; slabs of meat for a couple of copper, weapons ranging in differing prices in silver and even rare jewels and relics said to have come from the far-flung shores of Shinguo.

Finally, she came across a fletcher’s shop selling various arrangements of bows, arrows and sets. She huddled inside as the shopkeeper gave a wary eye to the Falcon atop her shoulder.

“Good Evening, Sister, how may I help you this evening?” The man’s voice was thick with the Ethorian dialect, reminding Alys of the man she had been arranged to marry.

“Evening, Fletcher. I am after a quiver of arrows; full quiver with a selection of tips and shafts.” Alys concentrated on keeping up her Raelusian accent, even though those couple of ale’s fought to throw her accent off.

“Ah, I see,” he exclaimed excitedly, pulling half a dozen arrows out of crates from behind him muttering like a fool, “Falken wood….Ethora Stingray Barb…. Raelusian Pyro Weed….”

Within a couple of minutes he lay a quiver of arrows on the bench; all ranging in different pairings of shafts and heads. Alys was amazed at the selection he now had on offer for her, “how much?”

“Fourteen Silver.”

“FOURTEEN?!?!!? That’s murder!” she exclaimed harshly, even Castiel squawked angrily at the shopkeeper.

“You said you wanted a range; this is the widest range possible. These materials aren’t cheap though.”

“I still refuse to pay Fourteen Silver for that selection.”

“Then what are you after?” A cool voice washed over her shoulder as another man joined the tent.

“Who do you think you are?” She turned around and her heart skipped a beat.

Handsome, muscular and red as a forge, the man’s accent and height all shouted Highman, yet his suave looks and rather cool voice sounded like he was from a class higher than a mere forger. “Get out of here, Highman, this is my customer.” The shopkeeper growled.

“I have a forge by the gate, come at dawn and I will have a quiver ready and suited towards you. Two Silver.”

Alys looked into the man’s soft gaze and tried to shake his domineering attitude as it washed over her. “Alright then.” She stormed off, not wanting to fall for the man’s suave nor charm. Finding a tavern close by that allowed pets, she settle in for the night knowing that it was an early morning on the horizon.

XXXXX

Bow slung, boots belted and Castiel on her shoulder, Alys was ready to hit the road on the way to this new job they had been offered last night. On her way she would make a pass by this Highman’s forge and see what kind of arrows he had picked out for her. As much as she tried to tell herself she would not fall for her charms, just remembering the events of last night made her weak at the knees. She had left the Golden Islands because men thought they could control her, and she was playing right into the hands of one.

“Vanaheim Crystal Ice, Mindirion Air Steel, Direwolf Tooth, Falken Sky Hawke Talon and Dergen whistling arrow heads, all on an array of Vanaheim Snow Pine, Falken Oak and Ethoran Elm wood shafts ending in Falken Sky Hawke feathers. This quiver is all about speed and slash. Judging by your height and weight, lighter arrows are your forte; and your best friend. It’s all about striking your opponent quickly rather than forcefully. For two Silver, what do you think?”

Alys was shocked; she hadn’t expected this kind of treatment not to mention range of arrows that he offered. Weighing them, they felt a lot lighter than the stock standard arrows she had been using so far and even the tips were of impeccable craftsmanship. “I’ll take it, but why?”

“You look nothing like any Raelusian girl I’ve ever seen. Plus, a girl with mystery is hard to come by these days. They either play up in the castle walls or in the fields of mud.”

Paying the man and thanking him, she quickly left his forge, walking briskly to the gate only a short walk away. He had definitely been flirting with her and while flattered, she had no time to worry about relationships. There was a job available.

Quiver slung over her shoulder, she approached the group noticing the half-elf, Ava, with a bow strapped over her shoulder. “Nice bow there, a little typical don’t you think? An elf with a bow?” Alys took the laugh before noticing the Direwolf growling by Ava’s side.
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