Topic: The Adventures of Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun
Subject: We all fall down
“Those are fair questions to raise, Kithran.” The bladesinger responded as Kith crossed her arms, “My thought was that, should I be ambushed, then I'd wager that I was successful in drawing their attention. Better for one to be caught than for all to be caught, in this case. Especially one that they are not actually after - I doubt they'd linger overlong when they realized they went after someone they weren't being paid for,"
The thief's face scrunched disapprovingly at the reply, “Maybe, Aranwen,” she sighed in resignation, there were too many ‘ifs’ she wouldn’t be a part of for her liking--and a captured bladesinger would sorely put a dent in their plans.
Kithran nodded at Aranwen’s suggestion to reconvene at the small garden near Adedre’s estate, her fingers itching instinctively as the Syl handed the Cleric her coin purse, "For the apothecary, and should I be ambushed I'd rather not have my coins added to their paycheck." Kith rolled her eyes and made her way for the kitchen door.
"Everyone ready?" She asked the group.
“As you say, khatun,” the Silver Cat chuffed, behind her.
Kith turned to wave at the bladesinger, “Be quick in your mind and your feet, Aranwen, and do not get caught.” And with that she disappeared into the kitchen, ignoring the surprised or angry staff who yelled at her only until the Kazari stalked in behind her. His true nature may have been more or less obscured, but even without those fangs dripping in one’s face, he struck a rather intimidating figure, one which she was glad to have around.
Their travel through the city looked much like their trip from the cellar to the inn: Kithran weaving ahead as their scout, avoiding as many unobscured routes as she could, and keeping an eye out for any would-be ambushers. This time she would make sure to take better note of the smaller folk in order to avoid another Saina situation.
Hardly any time at all seemed to pass before she found herself in an alleyway nearby the Lovely Lavender and Kith positive they had been followed by neither a vicious thug nor a harmless child. She waited in the alley for Ch’dau and Mosic to arrive, relieved that neither of them had noticed any eyes on them either.
“Hopefully we will remain out of their eye for the time being. Ch’dau,” she looked up at the cat-beast, “it is probably best if you stay out here. Keep to the shadows but do not hesitate to cry out for me if you need help.” She grinned and turned to the cleric, “And Mosic, you should probably do most of the talking. If I so much as breathe in their direction they’ll likely try to sell me some kind of perfume.” She shook her head, “Honestly, it is every time. I am either very beautiful or very smelly, or perhaps a combination of both, okay, let’s go, priest!” she said without taking a breath, and hopped around the corner to the store’s front.
She really did not want to go in first. She had been teasing, but she truly was not safe from the tonic and perfume peddling and was often bombarded with both in these places. She'd walk in for bandages and herbs to keep her wounds clean, and walk out smelling as though her rent were due.Still, the Cidal priest took a beat longer than she was comfortable with, especially without the added cover of her cloak, but he finally appeared around the corner and she ushered him toward the door.
The earthy and strange scents of herbs and medicines, incense and who knew what else filled Kith’s nose and lungs and she felt as though she could taste each of them.
The sound of clapping drew her attention to the store’s enthusiastic owner, "Please, come in," The woman greeted Mosic and Kithran, her voice warm and welcoming, and perhaps even a touch relieved. Mayhap it was a slow day for her thus far, "What might I be able to help you with today?" She asked.
"Good morn," Mosic replied with a smile, "I am looking for spare bandages and perhaps some balms or ointment to help soothe sutured skin. Anything also that you might recommend for treating open wounds or cuts."
Other than a brief interaction in which Kithran expressed her unfortunate inability to speak or to care what the woman had to offer her, she was left alone to wander and swipe as she desired. Upon initial inspection however, and with what painfully little she knew of medicinal herbs and the such, it appeared that the most helpful items were back on the display at which the shopkeeper now made her place.
She was a force, this one, and Kith almost felt bad for the poor Cid as he dodged her unabashedly aggressive selling style. If she could only find a way to signal to the priest to draw her attention now away from the good items.
The door to the apothecary swung open once more, if not a bit more aggressively than necessary, and Kithran slowly moved to put the wall at her back as she regarded the strange new character. Their cloak hid their features, but the long, lankiness of their build could mean nothing but that it was a Sylvari. Still . . . there was something about the way it sauntered in, purposefully, yet as though drawn forward. And that smell, even among the other pungent aromas that filled the store, its smell stung at her senses.
The creature seemed to scan the room through the hood's opening, and even the shopkeeper seemed unsure whether to greet the or hide under her counter. Both shopkeeper and priest followed the gaze of the conspicuoius Syl until finally it fell upon Kithran. It took a purposeful step toward her and her hands went to the handles of her blades, "Mosic . . . ."
The Sylvari lunged at her blindingly fast and Kith was just barely able to leap wildly out of its way. They crashed hard into the shelves of potted plants and jars, breaking everything in their path.
Kithran rolled from the floor to her feet and jumped backwards into the shopkeeper's counter as the woman ducked beneath it, and the Syl began to gain its footing once more. The thief reached back without looking for the Cidal's head to push him toward the door, "Go get Ch'dau, go go go go!" The priest raced toward the door as the cloaked figure lumbered swiftly at Kith again.
She dodged away once more as the creature slammed down on the countertop, breaking a hole it the wood before swiping out to the side at her. Kith ducked and from her crouched position, hurled herself onto the counter, dodging another swipe as she stood, pulling both daggers and leaping at its head. She landed with a leg on either shoulder, stabbing down into the dark face within the cloak.
But her blades slid away, deflected as the hood of the cloak fell away. What should have been a Sylvari face was instead a mask, smooth and all black save for the emerald in its forehead, and bright red lips, which remained unmoving as it spoke to her.
Well, aren't you rather fiesty, dear Kithran?
"What the--" but before she could finish the creature leapt, grasping her tightly to it as it slammed her into the ground.
Posted on 2019-11-11 at 20:13:37.
Edited on 2020-01-31 at 21:11:21 by breebles
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