Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 9:56:39 GMT -6
Mear Stamina: 5 (+2 Gym) Strength: 7 Resistance: 6 Dexterity: 7 Mentality: 5 Special Abilities: Swim, Fly Moves: Dodge, Bite, Summon Wooden Spear
- Character Profile -
There was a small buzz of noise in the air. It wasn’t exactly talking - too quiet and mumbled - and it wasn’t exactly silence. It was that moment between the forced silences that people so often would use to converse in a few quick chats, before all focus was brought back to the front of the room. Well, ‘room’ was saying much, in the agate’s mind. It was a large outdoors tent with some of the sides open, so any onlookers could peer in to see. Likewise it allowed the people sitting on benches inside to keep their larger creatures outside, as to avoid anyone’s feet getting trampled by an absent-minded thundergug. Himself included, though from no fear of trampling feet so much as he was just that bit too big to fit beneath the tent. So, he laid down in the grass at the back of the tent, on the outside, with his head peering in to see the show.
Today was a bit of a departure from the usual happenings of the questing board. For one, the quest, it seemed, was to simply do a bit of show and tell. Person after person walked up to the stage at the head of the tent and item after item was placed down on the tables serving as a sort of ‘podium’ with explanations on the background of each. The presentations happened one person at a time, but even from his distance vantage point he could see the line of people waiting their turn outside. And somewhere among them, the mammalian.
(1) Mear: 142 (3/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 9:57:17 GMT -6
A few more presentations shuffled on past in the twenty minutes that followed, broken into neat little pockets of sound divided up by the silences of the somewhat moderate crowd listening and then doing the quiet whisper to one another as presenters switched through. Eventually, the familiar sight of the mammalian finally stood at the tent entrance, waiting to be next. Mear didn’t really need to have an empathic connection to see the sphinx was more than a little nervous, cradling a few items under her arms, tail flicking back and forth as the person at the front finished, bowed to a few claws and then collected their items, leaving the stage.
Here we go, the two thought to themselves and the mammalian climbed the stage. She placed the items down and carefully arranged them on the table, stealing a glance at the agate in the back as she did. Mear quietly raised up an enthusiastic thumbs up. Technically it was more a finger up, considering his breed had ever only been gifted with double digits, neither of which a ‘thumb’ per say, but he’d learned to make do.
The sphinx smiled slightly, straightened, cleared her throat and began. “Good day, everyone. I am Darky and I’m here to talk about my home tribe.”
(2) Mear: 142 (4/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
|
Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 9:57:54 GMT -6
The agate settled in, a prick of pride blooming at watching her begin. In part out of almost a sense of parental disposition, but also because he had been there to experience first-hand the trouble she had had with this particular task in the week that lead up to the moment. The sphinx had told him long ago that her home had a particular tradition, and said tradition was very heavy on avoiding talking about any other traditions with strangers. It took them a few years before the mammalian had even revealed unto him her actual name, and aside him and the imp, there was likely no-one else in the City who would have known about it. All because it was part of a tradition.
And then came a quest where they called people up to openly talk about their homes and their customs to a crowd of people in the middle of the City, all strangers, all, in many ways, in violation of said tradition of distrust. She had vehemently refused at first and he could not have blamed her for it - it was instinct after all. Raised to only trust your own kin with sensitive things that heavily impact one’s own culture. He had asked whether anyone had been exiled or otherwise punished for ever breaking that kind of tradition and she had hesitated.
No, she had said, after a lengthy pensive pause, But no-one has attempted it to my knowledge either. News has been slow to travel between tribes, it might not have come up. There’s so few of us left now.
(3) Mear: 143 (0/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 9:58:25 GMT -6
“My tribe is a nomadic desert people, and we call ourselves the Abiharimi. The City-folk tend to call us the more familiar term - ‘sphinxes’ - though.. we don’t really do artistic renditions justice, seeing as all of us a actually quite wingless,” she smirked. There was a small laugh among the crowd on the joke landing. “The confusion has likely come from seeing depictions of our gods,” and she shuffled in the shoulder bag to pull out a broader sheet of paper with two figures drawn on it in what used to be the traditional temple style, holding it up for the crowd to see.
“They may be a little difficult for some City-folk to pronounce, so I’m warning you ahead of time to not worry too much about that,” - another chuckle from the crowd and Mear smirked to himself - “but the first one depicted here is Shechisutnne.” She indicated towards the more feminine-looking of the two figures, double-winged and graceful. “We consider her the god of the sun and creation. It’s believed that she brings the light into being each and every day and from that light comes life to everything in the world. Now, the figure next to her..” an indication towards a more masculine figure, twin-winged in much the same way and lacking none of the same grace, “...is Kachikwenej and he is the god of the moon and.. destruction.”
(4) Mear: 143 (1/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 9:59:01 GMT -6
The tat-lung had mulled over the predicament for a while, finally approaching her again a few days later. You know, in something you said there’s a bit of grain of truth and a grain of hope. The sphinx had looked at him with a furrowed brow, Not sure I follow.. Truth, yes, but what do you mean ‘hope’? We’re slowly going extinct.
In much the same way anything looking to last in this world can be approached. Your people have held to themselves for generations, afraid of the past so much so they have become isolated from the present, because the past nearly destroyed them and the present threatens to rob them of what legacy there is still left.
The sphinx’s gaze lowered, arm awkwardly scratching a shoulder, I.. suppose. Relations with the ssashirk aren’t exactly blooming and they’re not as likely to forget the war as we are. The homeland we had is part of other territories now or simply abandoned, the desert allowed to overtake it. Temples and keeps, cities and trade posts are just random ruins you might happen upon in the south deserts. What the young learn - what I learned - came through tales and stories of times long past. I don’t think we even have that much written record left, aside what the few remaining scholars safeguard the best they can. Our legacy is little, that’s why its all the more precious to guard it.
The tat-lung shook his head and when he levelled his gaze on her, there was a kind softness to it, That is why it’s all the more important to spread it.
(5) Mear: 143 (2/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 9:59:43 GMT -6
Her stunned look didn’t surprise him, but he continued, When all the world is over and done, when the last of the last disappear, legacy is all that will be left of something that no longer exists. Your people may yet be able to save themselves, and they may not, but should your kind fade, do you not think it a kinder fate if there are those left - and able - to remember a once proud culture?
Her mouth moved, trying to form words that it really didn’t need to, but the habit was tough to break. The perspective had not been something sprang upon her before, the agate could tell and he gently nudged her side with his head, There is a saying - one is never quite truly dead if their name is still spoken. So if the people of the City can remember the name abiharimi, if they can record it into their own books and their own histories, then scholars for generations would read about your kind and know them. In a way, the people would never truly fade from the world, if there are still souls in it to remember.
It had been a tough dilemma even so, but after that conversation the sphinx had stopped wondering and two had began practising.
(6) Mear: 143 (3/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 10:00:34 GMT -6
The crowd gathered wasn’t grand, but none the less it was a lot more people the sphinx had ever face at a given time than any other instance. And all their attentions were narrowed on her.
You can do it, the agate thought to her, encouraging with nod of his head for her to continue. Darky cleared her voice again and continued, “When evening begins to fall, the sun fades and the night is given over to the power of the moon. Thus, Kachikwenej swallows the light of day, and thus he also causes things to die or fall to decay. Now, in many cultures things like the night and destruction are considered more ‘evil’ counterparts for the more brilliant ‘good’ aspects of creation and light, but the abiharimi see it as a sort of balance. After all, when night ends, Shechisutnne returns the light back into the world so new things can be born and come into being. Neither god is considered so much ‘good’ or ‘evil’ as simply a force of nature and as such, one should always avoid angering either such side.”
Setting the picture back, she picked up another one, this time of a few more realistic figures. Pointing to one, a loose-robed figure with a plainer headdress, she explained, “In recent times the worship of the gods has fallen a little to the wayside, since maintaining temples can be difficult with nomadic lifestyle. None the less, each tribe or family group commonly still has a priest or priestess, easily distinguished from the rest by their style of robes. Beyond them, other occupations of note tend to be the scholars,” the next figure was pointed, with the robes more detailed and the headdress looking fancier, “the manekha, or ‘judges’, a kind of ‘tribe leader’ position” pointing to a figure with a broad sash and more decorations but otherwise looking no more fancier than the priests, “tradesmen,” a figure with clothes looking like a mish-mash of others’ robes and more traditional Tumai styles, “and finally the relmasuti, the warriors.”
(7) Mear: 143 (4/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 10:01:16 GMT -6
For the last one there was no image, as she placed the picture down and instead lifted up the helmet from the table. “These days relmasuti are the more popular occupation among the tribes, more out of necessity to protect the members from the dangers of the desert, but there’s some who still see it as a noble cause as well. For the most part it doesn’t pay to have clunky, hot, metal armour in the desert climate, so relmasuti usually adorn themselves in light-weight leather armour with a more stronger emphasis on movement.”
She turned the helmet around to show it from the side, “You might notice that there is a particular distinct style to make of these. As I said earlier, us sphinxes might not be the winged kind, but feathers and the design elements of wings is quite important and popular in our culture. In the old days it was usually mixed with elements of gold jewellery, but these days even simple hair clips with feathers are considered good luck. Many see it as an imitation of the twin gods, thus hoping to bring their luck on the wearer.”
That part wasn’t entirely true, Mear knew. The abiharimi certainly had a love for feathers, but certain knowledges had failed to pass down even with their diligent guarding of traditions and the reason for what connections the feathers had to the gods had been one such. In the past wearing them for reverence had been so commonplace no-one thought to question it. But when the war happened and the society collapsed, people took to wearing them as mementos of what used to, a stubbornness to cling to the Old even if they no longer remembered why. It was a connection and that’s all that mattered.
(8) Mear: 144 (0/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
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Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 10:01:47 GMT -6
She set the helmet down and picked up the quiver, holding it up for the crowd to see as well, “Otherwise the aesthetics of the abiharimi tended to have a distinctive flowing style. Where feathers could not be so easily attached to objects, it was common to decorate the object with depictions of wings instead, often in as elaborate as a style as possible. In a way, I guess you could so it’s to make up for the fact we don’t have them.” Another small chuckle from the crowd, and by this point it seemed the mammalian had gotten over the initial tremor of performing, feeling more at ease about talking of something which she had so heavily guarded all this while. Mear smiled to himself, feeling the start of excitement in her. Perhaps, even, all the more because it had been forcibly guarded for so long, like a story longing to be heard.
“Unfortunately I don't have any weapons with me today, but if ever you encounter an abiharimi tribe in the desert, look for their spears, the most common weapon among my kind. Unlike traditional spears, these ones are often made from a light-weight hardy metal for their shaft, making them incredibly durable. Such spears could also be passed down from parent to child for quite a few generations, before needing to be replaced. And though there are usually only a handful of relmasuti left per tribe, a shield wall of abiharimi warriors can be quite a considerable force.”
(9) Mear: 144 (1/5)
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Darky
Flea Market Artist
Veritas et Aequitas
Posts: 1,268
|
Post by Darky on Jan 25, 2020 10:02:42 GMT -6
“Among other common traditions would be the wearing of a sash,” as she indicated on her on outfit, “and the distinct marking on the face,” showing the lined tattoo near the eyes. “It’s considered a terrible taboo to show up in public without a form of sash around the waist, harkening back to the old days. The modern equivalent would be kinda like showing up to the market without your pants on.” - a broader laugh now - “A sash can be most any colour, much like the clothes, but if there’s particular combinations that are considered aesthetically pleasing, it would have to be shades or red and purple for the sash, and the tones of beige, brown, gold, red, grey, black and sand for the clothing.”
“As for the tattoos, they are like a personal recount of a person’s life, in some ways. Commonly an abiharimi gets their first one when they choose their occupation. It’ll be simple and quite small at first, mostly the same as other with the same occupation, but as time passes and the person gains more renown and more deeds, the tribe may reward the person with additions to mark each occasion. Older abiharimi may get to a point where their entire side of face and neck is covered in a recount of their life, warriors usually more so than other classes, for.. you know, ‘heroic reasons’.” The crowd chuckled and the sphinx smiled, though rubbing her hands, before continuing, “I’m afraid my own is still a bit of a work in progress.. but, there’s plenty years to still work on it.”
She began to slowly place the papers back in the bag and shuffled the items closer, before a prompt from the agate reminded her to pause and address the crowd again, “I thank you for coming today and hope this has piqued your interest our far-off kind,” before taking a small bow.
A few claps sounded, polite ones same as before with the other presenters and the sphinx collected her things, stepping off the stage. The agate got to his feet and moved around the corner of the tent to meet her on the side. That went quite well, I’d say.
Darky shuffled the quiver and bag over her shoulder, still holding the helmet under the arm, and looked up to him, concerned, Do you think well enough to have helped? I only talked a little.
Mear smiled, Every big change starts with a small step. In this case, your small step started with a big change. You can’t rush time to see what it does now, but.. Yes, I believe it did.
(10) - (added) Mear: 144 (2/5)
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Post by Renathan on Jan 25, 2020 18:06:15 GMT -6
You have rolled a success! Your QP has been added to the bank. You may continue roleplaying if you wish!
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