Shadowbone Marketplace

High God Join date : 2012-01-29 Posts : 28

*The marketplace is set out in the dim light of day, because frankly, no one trusts anyone selling anything in a back alley. The markets are set in pavilions or shallow hollows carved into the cliff walls. It is an unspoken law that all business must be done beneath the shadow of the bones.*

Join date : 2012-02-01 Posts : 2

Duvainil wandered the market aimlessly, occasionally glancing at wares that interested her. Her dark hood shielded her eyes form the weak rays of the sun that filtered down, and her veil covered most of her face, protecting her even though there wasn't much of a need, she kept to the shadows.

There was no reason for her to be here, she was simply traveling on a whim. She hadn't had a contract in quite a while, but it suited her just fine to wander. She had enough coin to keep her comfortable for another few weeks at least, if she was frugal with it. She didn't need to resupply any of her poison ingredients, and she maintained her weapons herself, so anything she bought here would be something she wanted.

A merchant called her over, gesturing to a shimmering gown, but she ignored him. Such clothing wasn't practical, and if she did buy something for herself, it would be practical as well as beautiful, and those things were hard to come by.

She wasn't sure why she had come to Dysmere. Something tugged at her, a feeling that she needed to be here. It was almost as if there was someone leaning over her as she slept, whispering into her ear, planting the idea that she needed to come to Dysmere. It had been many years since she had been to the city, but it suited her and her kind, and it did not bother her to be here.

Another merchant stall displayed various hooded robes and cloaks, but a single one caught her eye. She moved closer to examine it and saw that it was made of a heavy black material, similar to the one she already wore, except this one had markings around the hood and sleeves. The markings were silver and a deep red, and swirled around and coiled in on itself, reminding her of serpents. She purchased it immediately, the garment reminding her of the goddess of her people. It had been far too long since she had openly shown allegiance to Quetzaya, she felt that it was appropriate, given that she was in her city.

After the cloak was tucked into her pack, Duvainil continued to wander the market in search of something else that would catch her attention and guide her travels.

Join date : 2012-01-30 Posts : 2

Tzunki strode briskly through the market place. He was not impressed by the atmosphere in the city and this was manifesting itself as annoyance and a quicker temper. He had travelled long and hard to reach Dysmere for a reason he wasn't exactly sure of any more and he was so angry with everything. The cold and the dark were not good for his cold-blooded metabolism but he knew showing weakness was not an option.

He walked around a corner towards a relatively busy part of the market, it seemed a bit quiet in general. Many stared at Tzunki, his blue scales and white armour standing out in the dark surroundings. He was noticeably taller than all of the Elves in the market and he towered over the few goblins he had seen. He was glad there were no Minotaurs to be seen, he'd had enough of their kind during his journey. As his mind dwelt on the monstrous creatures he'd killed over the years he failed to see a group of elves walk away from a stall and into his path. He barely even noticed when he walked straight through them and knocked the three of them to the ground. However a few paces away he paused for a moment, his mind finally realising what had happened and he turned around.

His eyes were met with a trio of armed and angry Dark Elves, the correct name escaping the Lizardman's mind at that moment. Two of the elves seemed to be armoured in some way, mainly leather armour with some metalwork, and armed with a sword each. The other was cloaked and armed with a compact bow, which he was notching an arrow onto. The two sword armed elves charged at him yelling something that his ears chose to ignore, swords ready to strike him down for the insult.

The lizard was slowly seeing the picture unravel as if he had blacked out, the curse of his cold-blooded nature. However his mind was galvanised when the bow armed elf loosed an arrow in his direction. He was a large target at roughly eight feet tall and the projectile hit one of his broad shoulders, his left as it happened. The shot of pain released chemicals into his blood more potent than the human adrenaline and he roared loudly as his left foot took a half step back to cope with the impact of the arrow. The sword-elves were about to strike but Tzunki had other plans.

His right arm quickly extended out and the claws extended, piercing one of the elves throats from beneath. His strength showed as the elf was lifted off the ground and thrown several feet into a market stall, the owner of which was now rushing away from the fight. This had caused the Lizard to move abruptly and so the other elf had missed with his overhead strike. The elves were quick for sure, the sword-elf was ready for another strike and another arrow was on it's way through the air already. Tzunki easily used his forward momentum to carry on the movement and dodge the arrow, as well as taking him out of range of the long elven sword.

He recovered and stood back upright, turning to face the nearest elf who seemed un-phased by his comrade's violent departure from this world. It was only now that Tzunki reached behind him on his belt and unclipped his own blade, one he'd forged himself from the hardest metal the desert had created. Heavier than most blades used even by the Orcs and probably at least ten times the weight of the elven weapon being wielded against him. Tzunki's throat vibrated and released a thunderously low growl that seemed to disrupt the elves heartbeat and cause their breathing to be momentarily interrupted with it's power. He then sprang forwards and aimed his own counter strike toward the elf's chest. The elf attempted to parry the blow with his own blade, as was usual with most elven fencing techniques. However it was not a good tactic to use against Lizardmen who used mainly brute force in their attacks. The elven blade was shattered and the elf's chest split open spraying gore onto Tzunki and the surrounding marketplace.

The Lizard roared, revelling in the glory of combat and the thrill of the kill before turning to face the last elf. However this was a smart elf, knowing that he could not defeat the creature that had torn his friends to shreds, he turned to flee. Tzunki glanced around quickly and noticed a crowd gathering around the edges of the market place. Interested elves and curious goblins had gathered for the entertainment of some free blood sport. The Lizard would not disappoint them. He reached down to his belt again and replaced his blade to the clip on the right hand side. He then unclipped his blowpipe and quickly loaded a dart from one of his pouches into the two foot tube. Pressing it against his mouth, he breathed in deeply through his nose, carefully aiming at the fleeing elf. A sharp exhalation was followed by the collapse of the elf and some quiet cheers from some cheeky goblins.

The crowd thought the fight was over but they were wrong. There was poison on the dart but not the killing type. This specific poison had been harvested from a snake that lived in the desert. It's bite could instantly paralyse any prey with enough of an injection. The elf was laying face down on the floor completely paralysed but still conscious, unfortunately for him. Tzunki clipped his blowpipe away once again and walked slowly over to his victim, kicking him onto his back so he could see into his eyes. His clawed foot was planted firmly on his chest, claws digging into his flesh near the collar bone. The Lizard growled again and reached down with right hand, grabbing the jawbone and ripping it from the skull of the elf. The elf, now in extreme pain but with no way to express it, was kicked to the side for the goblins to pick over, Tzunki had other things to do.

As he walked off the Lizard's brain finally received a message about the pain from his left shoulder. He simply pulled the arrow from his shoulder and discarded it as he walked. The wound was non-lethal thanks to his bone armour and tough scales and would soon heal.