The Fiery Glazier

Serrana listened in on their conversation, snacking lightly and drinking her water. She usually enjoyed the break between sets - many people don't realize that dancing can be very strenuous work, after all. The glazier nodded to Ada, smiling, but at the same time, her head swam with all sorts of potential pitfalls for what lied ahead tonight.

The islanders were trouble, of that she was certain. What brand of trouble, that was significantly harder to put her finger on. And why had they come back here, again? At first, she'd wondered if she was a mark of some kind for them, but now? Now she wondered if it was Morella they wanted? And if they tried something, what would happen? With her abilities, Serrana was likely to be able to defend herself, but she was not practiced enough with Inferno to use it offensively, short of lighting the flame and basically rushing at someone. And she didn't know what Dark Pumpernickel or the islanders were actually capable of. That was an unsettling feeling too. Idly, the sorceress wondered if she should pick up a book of Blaze as well, if she had the coin when next she went out. First-level books of a spell were cheap, after all... And to top it all off, that little token that had found its way into her pocket somehow, if that wasn't ill portent, Serrana didn't know what was.

The dancer shook her head, jostling herself out of the thoughtful trance she'd slipped into. This wouldn't do. She could worry later, when there wasn't another performance pending. Taking a deep breath, she started quietly talking to herself, slowly calming down as she whispered. "Dance and play with fire, tomorrow the flames go brighter..."

A few moments later, she took another deep breath, much calmer than before, worried thoughts pushed back, at least for now, as she let Ada and Gionni know she was heading through the back halls of the White Sands to get to the backstage area for her next set.
 
Gionni nodded as Serrana left to do another set, then headed back to the front room to announce her. After he was gone from the room, Ada sighed and took a seat, her hands shaking as thoughts similar to Serrana's swam through her head. Was it really good tidings that the duke's daughter was here at the same time as a pretend-hero from Icesog and known stalkers? She wanted nothing more than to send them all out onto their bottoms, but it was beyond her strength.

Gionni climbed the trio of steps onto the stage, hands rested on his belly as he looked around. "And now, our dancing oasis flower returns for more dance." He clapped twice, then went back down the steps to resume serving the customers, helped by his two children.

When Serrana emerged from behind the curtain, one of the islanders was gone, though the other two remained. Morella was also still there, and lazily rested her head on her hands. The Black Cockerel turned his head to watch any person who went past him, but remained quiet.

A few soldiers raised their glasses at the sight of the young mage, grins on their ruddy faces. "Yeah!" One shouted. "Do the one with the..." He trailed off. "The one with the high kicks!" Dirty soldier.
 
Serrana couldn't help but chuckle to herself - yeah, the soldier was perverted, but honestly, there were worse things than having a solider thinking you were pretty - particularly with the other shady folks in the White Sands.

This time, Serrana had brought out something else with her - a thin strip of cloth, that she held in both hands as it loosely hung around her. She'd been practicing this move, and tonight was the first time she was going to try it... So when the music started, its frantic pace setting the tone for the whole set almost immediately - the dancer went into a prompt spin, the cloth trailing even as the globes of fire flared into existence. The strip of cloth ignited, burning to nothing very quickly, but leaving a small cyclone of flame in the wake of its movement for several seconds.

Once the cloth had burned fully away, Serrana moved across the stage like she was born there. She had been nervous about that trick - do it wrong, and you light your own outfit on fire (or your hair, which she had done twice while practicing it). With the big opening out of the way, the sorceress moved back and forth, matching the fast tempo of the music with her movements. Hips shook and skillful steps moved the dancer back and forth across the stage, all the while the fiery orbs circling her - sometimes fast, sometimes faster, but never slow this time. The thumps of the drums were accented with kicks or hard pops of her hips to one side or the other. The flaming spheres grew, shrunk, grew, vanished, and reappeared, the glazier moving about as she directed the fire.

The music built to a feverish crescendo as it neared its end, and as the finale played, a trio of drum pounds had Serrana move her hips dramatically in time with each as her arms were over her head, the second and third shake smacking into one of the fire orbs, causing it to wink out on contact. The last few notes played, and Serrana spun, her back now to the crowd as three more drum pounds played, and she did the same thing, knocking out the last of the flames.

"There you go boys, you wanted a show, you got one..." she thought, holding that pose for a moment before turning around, bowing, and removing herself from the stage with a smile. The sorceress was very pleased with that performance - she felt it was easily one of her best. Not bad for having such a... diverse crowd.
 
For the entire dance, everyone watching was silent. Even Morella sat up straight, and the Black Cockerel turned to stare.

"Ain't never seen dance like that." someone with an Icesog accent muttered from near the front. It was a young man, mouth agape, who wore the academy uniform.

Laughter followed, and someone clapped the boy on the back as the life returned to the bar. Several people tossed small bags of coin to Serrana's feet-- an uncommon show of appreciation, since it was a hassle for the tippers.

Gionni hurried up to the stage and swept the coinbags aside so nobody could trip, then pushed them behind the curtain so Serrana didn't have to bend to pick them up with everyone watching, then went back to serving with a wink toward the girl.

Toward the far corner, the man in black hurriedly looked away, one black-gloved hand over the lower part of his face.
 
The dance really couldn't have gone any better than that - Serrana had hit every trick, the crowd was all but hypnotized, and none of the questionables did anything during the routine. She'd even done well enough to bring in extra coin - Gionni would be very pleased about that. The dancer usually shared any "extra" with his children, which kept them happy and working hard at no extra cost to the proprietor. Never mind that shows like that drew larger crowds down the line. Serrana knew she'd have to do that routine again.

The sorceress slipped backstage for a breather - that particular dance was rather tiring, due to its frenetic tempo, and sat down at one of the tables in the kitchen, but not scooping up the coin that Gionni pushed behind the stage and taking it with her. Serrana filled the cup that she'd left on the table with water, then started to count the coin, separating out the portion she would keep from the portion she would share.

As she caught her breath, finally relaxing a bit, she kept one ear open out, listening in the direction of the common room, but for the most part just enjoyed the respite after a job well done.
 
Ada rested a hand on Serrana's shoulder. "Nice dancing." She'd seen none of it, but the small money pouches spoke volumes. She held out the small capsule that was a Drop to the girl. "This should help." She then sat by the girl and began to make some cucumber and ham rolls-- some for herself, some to offer to the dancer. "How were the guests? Nobody aimed for your top, I hope?"

Gionni thanked everyone, and announced the dancing was over for the night, and the musicians would continue to play. A few customers were disappointed, but most were drunk enough not to be too sad.

The man in black hurriedly turned away from the stage, only to find Morella seated suddenly beside him. He reached for his sword, and she put a hand on his wrist. "Don't. I'm too important locally for you to survive doing that." She giggled. "So, who gave your name?" She asked quietly.

"I took it." He looked away from her. "That a problem?"

She tilted her head. "Interesting. What are you looking for in Driazhek?"

"Just going through the safest routes to get to Roi Saldecla."

"I'm heading there soon. Would you be against earning some extra money?"

The man snorted quietly, and extended a trembling hand toward his mug to take a drink from a violently shaking mug. "I wouldn't be a good bodyguard." He answered as he jerked his head toward the still-shaking mug in his hand. The liquid inside was in danger of spilling over.

"Oh." She was silent a moment, then nodded. "That's fair." She pouted.

Kolin, listening nearby, tilted his head at the exchange before a look from under the dark hood sent him away, pretending he hadn't paused there. Someone ordered beer, and he hurried to get some from the kitchen.
 
Having caught her breath, at the least, Serrana nodded to Ada appreciatively. "Thank you... and no, they behaved. I think they were a little too shocked to cause trouble tonight," she said with a bit of a mischievous giggle. "One of the islanders has left though. Noone's tried anything untoward yet, but those folks still make me a shade nervous. Especially with... her out there..."

Serrana finished sorting out the coin, parting out the portion for the kids, her employers, and herself, then continued to relax - half to enjoy the respite she'd earned, and half because she couldn't help but try to listen in. She only caught bits and pieces of the conversation going on in the common room, and those were limited indeed. The sorceress let out a slight sigh, her curiosity unsatisfied, but not strong enough to get closer to listen. Serrana glanced over at Kolin as he came into the kitchen, noting that he was a little more hurried than usual with a raised eyebrow
 
Ada nodded, thankful the customers were being good. "Glad to hear it." She smiled as she resumed her work, then looked up as her adopted son darted in. "Kolin?"

"Two drinks." He announced with a small wheezing growl. "The table with the retired soldiers." He answered, then rubbed at his cheek, hard. "My teeth hurt."

"Do you want a piece of bone to chew on?"

The boy nodded and held out his hand, and Ada placed an inch-long section of pork bone onto it, then walked to get two drinks ready for the boy to carry out. She was unsteady on her feet, but managed fairly well. "You're probably just getting ready to lose another tooth-- or get one."

"It doesn't feel like that. It feels like my mouth is getting stabbed."

"Just chew the bone and I'll look at your mouth when it gets quieter."

The boy nodded and took the two mugs, then hurried out to deliver them.

After he was gone, Ada began to walk toward the door to the main room. "I think something spooked him."
 
Having caught her breath, Serrana's curiosity at Ada's comment was too much to ignore as the dancer got up and slinked over to the door from the kitchen to the common room, trying to get a look through and a better listen at what conversations she could. Serrana was a combination of tense and insatiably curious at this point... on one hand, she knew that some of those stalking islanders were still about - and one had gone missing, which only made the plot thicken. On another hand, the duke's daughter was here, and up to, well, what would be no good for someone, she was sure. If Kolin was getting rattled by someone or something, that only made it worse.

Serrana tried to get a peek out to the common room, being as subtle as she could, meanwhile in the back of her mind, that one person who'd gone missing in between her sets played at the back of her mind...
 
The curtain shifted to let her look, and beyond it, on the far side of the room, Serrana could see Morella and the Dark Cockerel. As she watched, Morella stood, only to pause and look back. "Excuse you?" Even over the din, those words came through clearly.

People slowly went silent and started to stare. Morella whispered, but it was still plenty audible in the silence. "I don't know how things are in Icesog, but in Driazhek, those are fighting words."

"Then I guess I had better leave." The man stood, then tossed some coin onto the table and limped out.

A soldier piped up. "So, that's the Black Cock, eh? He's certainly got the 'cock' bit right!"

The soldier's friends began to laugh and joke, and the tension dispersed as Morella returned to her seat.
 
Serrana couldn't help but giggle just a bit at that, but it didn't take long before she realized that there was much more that could be potentially very, very wrong here...

The duke's daughter was here, unattended, and had just angered some guy who felt strongly enough about himself to take on an intimidating sobriquet (or attempt to). There were three islanders who she knew were trouble that showed up, and one of those was missing. And then there was that obnoxious little token that had found its way into her pocket earlier. Too much was happening at once. Something was very, very wrong.

The dancer turned away from the curtain and glanced at Ada. "I'm going go to change, I think..." she said, before she started to make her way to the spare bedroom where she had stashed her things. Once there, Serrana wasted little time, switching into her whites and in minutes she was ready to leave, should the need arise. She returned to the kitchen, taking another look out into the common room...
 
Morella was gone when she returned, but the Islanders were not-- and the missing one was returned now.

Ada watched Serrana from her seat. "You're tense." She murmured. "Do you need to talk about it?" The woman looked pale. It was getting late, and she never did well this late, but despite her condition, she smiled at the dancer.

Outside of the kitchen, it wasn't hard to hear the customers going about their usual activity. They told stories and jokes. They drank. One described what he would do to Serrana if she by some miracle decided she wanted him-- typical tavern talk.
 
Serrana pursed her lips as she looked over the common room once more. This was not what she'd expected. No Morella, no Dark Cocker Spaniel, and all three islanders in the common room. She got to thinking that this would probably actually be an ideal time to head home. The night had gone well indeed, her primary concern for her own safety was here, where they would be out of trouble, and the curious part of her wanted to make sure that Morella wasn't being "hounded" by that limping weirdo.

The dancer took Ada's hand and smiled softly. "Just... a lot happened today. Easily the busiest day for me in a long time. Not all bad, but enough to make me want to get to sleep for certain. I'm going to head out, Ada... I'll see you in two nights, hm?" She gave the older woman a gentle hug, careful not to be too rough since it looked like she was fatigued, and turned to head out, but not before rolling her eyes with a smirk at that comment about dark corners and willing dancers. Yeah, because that was the first time she'd ever heard that. Still, worse things than to be found desirable, she thought, and she'd be lying to herself if dancing wasn't at least somewhat simple eye candy for the audience.

Serrana slipped out the back door of the White Sands and made her way to the main road, keeping her eyes peeled for Morella, who was also in whites. If she saw the duke's daughter, she'd make sure noone was stalking along behind her before heading home, if not, the opportunity was golden to leave the islanders behind and get home with little to no incident...
 
Everything seemed normal, though in the street someone in whites was loitering nearby, face covered by the veil attached to their hood. They watched the White Sands for a few momenst, then ran towards the ducal palace at a clearly feminine gait.

Heading the opposite direction, a black-clad figure was becoming more distant as he limped. By now it was cool enough that whites weren't necessary, but the way he moved-- veering slowly from side to side-- he hadn't been that drunk.

He steered himself toward a building and rested against it on his arm as he panted, wondering why he came to this gods-forsaken hell-pot. he wished he took the wooded way through Driazhek, though it was easier to avoid bleeding on places where people might put their injuries or get injured on soft sand than it was to avoid the same in a place where branches tugged and stones and roots jutted out, eager to trip he unwary.

He almost, almost wished he'd stayed in Icesog. He definitely wished he had gotten an amputation two years ago, even if it was his sword arm.

Not that swords were looked on as the ideal weapon, save they were a bit more versatile than an axe-- which was viewed as a beautiful weapon to master by the simpletons everywhere, just because it had multiple uses...

The thought trailed off as a careless breath sent lightning-like pain through from head to toe. He gasped, and his body sagged as his nerves sparked. He hurried to cover his face, just in case the infection had spread and become visible there.
 
The glazier looked in Morella's direction, then opted not to follow. Tailing her would bring the duke's daughter more trouble than anything. She clearly was able to take care of herself at this stage, and all Serrana could do was run behind someone who was running - not exactly productive, and more likely to draw the attention of other eyes than one person running.

The sorceress didn't see any infection or the like. All she saw was a figure staggering around that she thought had left the White Sands not long ago. Serrana wasn't sure if it was the Dark Cockerel or not, but it seemed likely. She also didn't have this huge desire to just go up and say hello. To her, one thing was for sure: He'd had more trouble holding his liquor than she'd expected. She kept her distance, opting to follow for just a bit and see if the drunken sot was going to make it to wherever he was staying. If he ended up falling down face-first in the dust, she could at least get someone who'd be better at getting him "home" than she would be (brute strength was far from one of Serrana's attributes). Besides, home was roughly in that direction, after all...
 
Mel, the Dark Cockerel, leaned on the wall long enough to catch his breath before he stood again and looked around to see if anyone saw him. There was someone in the area's godforsaken whites behind him, and he scowled under his heavy, black hood. It was ridiculous, how they wore so much white. He forced himself away from the wall and began to limp on his own, urged forward despite his pain now that he knew someone was following him.

Other than his presence in the night's darkness, Seranna was alone. There were a few people in the alleys, but they left her alone when they saw her, until a shout, followed by the sound of blows came from one of the alleys, and a child in filthy whites rolled out, then lifted himself. "Can so!" He snarled, then launched himself forward, back to the alley. Other children laughed, and he slammed into them. The whole group of four tumbled out not long after, with one of them straddling another and hitting the lower in the face.

"Shut up!"

"Hey!" A third grabbed the one on top. "It's an adult, let's go!" The three not under the second looked at Seranna, then fled, leaving the last one on the dusty road. He rose, then looked her way before he started to run as well.

It was well-past curfew for unaccompanied children.
 
Serrana considered tailing the children for a moment, then realized exactly how fruitless that would likely be, given that they knew where they were going and all the related hiding places. The glazier kept on her way back home, trailing the Black Cockerel at a distance until she was near home, making sure he didn't pitch face-first into the dusty road.

Eventually, the sorceress made her way to the cross-street that would take her home. Assuming that the black-clad figure limping along was still (mostly) upright, she made her way home, eyes wary for anything else that might bring trouble. She was still a bit edgy given all that had been happening as of late...
 
The stranger continued limping on his way, heading out of town, and the children were off and gone from sight.

An expletive split the quiet night as she turned the corner to access her apartment's courtyard, and if she looked, the black-clad man had stopped walking, but remained upright. After a few long moments, he continued on his way, his walk slower as he held his arms firmly at his sides, staring down at the ground in front of him as he concentrated on continuing to move, despite the pain of another careless motion.

Damn it all to rot among demons, he growled under his breath as he headed toward the gate, vowing to sleep during the day from this point on, if only to escape the unbearable heat of the lands below the mountains.

(( Stopping here cuz she could follow or not. ))
 
Serrana stopped at the entrance to the courtyard, watching the cloaked man from a distance. She wasn't sure if she should go help him or not, but was also utterly unsure as to what she could do if she did go help. She couldn't ignore him though, so she stayed put for a moment, making sure he was able to continue on before considering heading inside for the night. If he faceplanted into the ground, that would be one thing, but as long as he was moving, she was unlikely to do much else.

The glazier looked around, making sure that he was the only other one about and that she wasn't being watched or sneaked up on...
 
The man remained upright as he continued on his way out of the city, hoping he could make good time if he travelled at night—at least it was getting cooler and easier to move, now.

Save for his quiet grumbling, the night was quiet now, and when she arrived home, it was as she left it.

At least, mostly. There was someone there, and they did shove a wet, smelly rag over her face.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back