The Warrior Monk of Coeurl
At perhaps six till twelve or so, the first taker approached from a distance, oddly early. The man was in no way mysterious as he moved towards the man and his escort - reserved footsteps make a heavy thud on the ground on account of everything except the head being currently covered in a thick metal armor - for anyone even moderately versed in combat the armor would look to be well-maintained but the subtle warping of the plates surface told anyone even barely versed in the same field of study that this armor may as well have had a story for every scratch, now minor dent and odd tear on it. Although it was less apparent, the man himself probably had a scar on his body for every two on the armor, and if the bandages visible to various degrees were of any indication, a couple were fairly recent. A helmet in similar condition was carried by one arm and a massive axe, somewhat plain in design, was on the mans back along with an assortment of less notable items, save for a bundle of what appeared to be long poles wrapped up on his back.
As if anticipating the thought that the man behind the armor may be as prone to violence as these marks may suggest, its wearer gives a friendlier wave as he steps within something akin to speaking distance, highlighting that the man behind this well-worn suit of battle is both a natural and unnatural fit for it. If you didn't look too hard he may pass as a human but the fact that the wealthy man would probably have to look up to keep eye contact was very telling that he was anything but. The man that was now standing a distance in front of them reasonable enough for nobody there to get worried was a Norn.
Gest had intended to arrive a little early but he was unsure now if he was early enough - the Grand Piazza was empty save for the four of them and he had felt that the opportunity to examine other people that would hopefully be soon assembling for this meeting would be helpful for him in the long run. The problem - and Gest could very well be going with the wrong train of thought here - was that he didn't know if the air needed clearing or not, even after the friendly wave he gave in advance.
Well, it shouldn't be too long before others show up, I guess. Gest opted to casually turn his gaze behind him, in case someone was now approaching. He was no doubt as interested in seeing whatever group that would be there in a few minutes assemble itself as the man before him must have been, so he hoped that for now, they'd understand his silence.
"You lost, Dio. You lost for one simple reason - you were using charcoal." - Hank Hill
Meanwhile, the next member of the expedition arrived in the once-proud trade city, crossing half a continent in a single step as she strode through shimmering membrane of an asura gate and down the receiving ramp. Clad in a high-collared garment that looked like equal parts robe and lab coat, Shaeli paused, pursing her lips in consternation as she looked around. She hadn't been in Lion's Arch since the latest attack, and it seemed that every major landmark she remembered was in ruins.
Ah, yes, the secondary gate hub. I remember coming across it last time. That makes the grand piazza... that way?
Bearings established, the pale asura hitched up her backpack and adjusted her staff before striding past the liongard stationed at the gates and over the nearby bridge - not that she was hurrying, mind you. She was, naturally, the picture of confidence as she walked over the rickety, half-demolished structure... Hiding a sigh of relief as she planted her feet on solid ground, her long pointed ears perked up slightly as she spotted a figure in bright red and gold standing by the remains of the city's famous statue. Ah, that must be my contact. Excellent.
Shaeli frowned slightly in mild annoyance as she spotted another figure standing by her patron. She'd somewhat hoped to be the first to arrive. Ah well, no matter. She spared the first arrival a quick glance up and down as she passed him, one eyebrow quirked in silent judgement, before coming to a stop directly in front of the human in the opulent red coat.
"Casimir Fiore, I presume?" She asked, reaching one clawed hand out. She only came up to his waist, so she had to reach up a fair bit too, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. That was going to take some getting used to.
edited 25th Jul '14 6:05:49 AM by gaunt88
Thom Raiwhat?
Casimir broke out into a pleasant smile as the first arrival, an auburn-bearded Norn, approached. He hadn't directly requested this particular individual's presence, which meant that he must have joined of his own accord. That was heartening.
The Norn was rather skinny, as far as Norn went, but that didn't seem to be much of a barrier to him, judging by the casual way he had managed to lug around a battleaxe. His armour and body were dented and scarred respectively, but he was notably still alive, despite all the battles he had apparently gotten into. That was a good sign. This was a man with real-world experience, even if he seemed a little cautious about showing it.
"Casimir Fiore," he said, punctuating his introduction with a smooth bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister...?"
The sound of pattering footsteps broke the silence before the Norn did, and Casimir directed his gaze rather closer to the ground. A blonde-haired Asura with a blue cravat was approaching, exuding professionalism from every fuzzy pore of her body. She extended a hand to Casimir when she reached the plaza, and Casimir accepted the handshake warmly.
"Casimir Fiore, I presume?"
"And you must be Shaeli. It is an honour to work with a necrologist of your calibre. I hear your thesis on Orrian undead was groundbreaking in its field."
It was at that moment when a purplish blur appeared in the corner of Casimir's vision, followed promptly by an alarmed shout from his guard. Casimir's pistol was in his hand in a moment, trained on the approaching blur - now that it was sprinting across the plaza, he could see that it was, in fact, a young woman made of interwoven plants.
"Sorry! Sorry!" shouted the Sylvari, jumping slightly to the left as Casimir's bodyguard lunged for her. Casimir raised a hand, and the Charr stopped reluctantly, eyes still trained on the Sylvari as she made a beeline for the group.
For a moment, Casimir wondered whether she intended to stop when she reached them, or whether she had planned on trampling all three of them and the remains of the statue before continuing on her merry way. But then one foot skidded forward, slowing her to a screeching halt right in front of Shaeli. The toe of her boot might have barely touched the Asura's foot - if it did, it was hastily withdrawn.
"Sorry, sorry, but excuse me miss - miss Asura lady, Ma'am. It's just that I really really want to be your bodyguard."
It happened like this.
Caleiwyn had been waiting at the gate hub for hours and hours. She'd been waiting there every day since she reached Lion's Arch, asking every one of the (few) passer-bys whether they'd seen an Asura with yellow hair. The answer was usually some variation of "no," "go away," or "if you're looking for an Asura, why don't you try heading to Rata Sum like a normal person?" Some people had suggested that asking for a list of all the yellow-haired Asura they had met in their life was a little bit of a tough ask, even if she narrowed it down to exclude all males. Still, she had persisted in asking, and waiting. She was meant to meet the subject of her Wyld Hunt in Lion's Arch, she was sure of it - she'd seen the city in her Dream, seen the gates and the gorgeous ruined lion.
So she'd stood constant vigil over the gate hub, barely moving from her post. The problem with standing vigil for a week, however, was that eventually one needed to sleep.
Caleiwyn had stretched out to close her eyes for just a second, and woken up with a sympathetic Norn worker tugging on her sleeve.
"Sorry to wake you, love, but I thought I should come tell you. I saw a blonde Asura go through the gate just a minute ago."
Caleiwyn blinked, her still-groggy mind still trying to process the thought.
"You saw... an Asura..."
In the space of another blink, Caleiwyn was on her feet. "Where did she go? Which way?"
"Towards the Grand Piazza, I think-"
"Thank you so much!" Caleiwyn blurted, jumping forward to hug the slightly stunned Norn. In another instant, her backpack was hoisted onto her back, and her staff was in her hand.
All in all, it hadn't taken too long to catch up to the Asura, running at a flat sprint. It would have taken considerably less time if Caleiwyn hadn't gotten lost on the way to the Piazza, but a rubble pile the size of an entire alleyway could hardly be considered a real barrier in the pursuit of a Wyld Hunt.
So it was that Casimir's pocket watch had not even ticked over to twelve when Caleiwyn came hurtling out of an alleyway, and screeching to a halt in front of the person she was destined to protect.
Anyway here's Blackwall
As the human spoke, Shaeli's look of professional interest blossomed into a slow grin, showing a few hints of shark-like teeth. Well well well, this is a nice surprise, and from a human too. He even got my field right. The asura stood a little straighter and hooked her hands together behind her back, ratcheting her smile back to something more composed, although she couldn't keep the smirk from her lips or her voice.
"Indeed. I must say it makes for a pleasant change to meet someone who appreciates - what are you-"
As she'd preened, Shaeli hadn't even noticed the purple blur sprinting towards the group before the human drew his weapon. She looked between Casimir, his hired muscle and the approaching sylvari with increasing alarm, backing away a few steps and wondering if she should dive behind the norn for cover. That was why one hired Norn, right?
Then she realised that the figure was actually running at her specifically, and she was right on top of her. Her backstep became a jump, and she threw up her arms in front of her face, cringing at the expected impact... only to instead receive a hurried mess of overly excited apologies and questions. The frazzled asura looked up at the plant-girl between her raised arms, trying to process the abrupt swerve in the situation. "... you what?"
The Warrior Monk of Coeurl
The first to approach the four of them came by way of crossing a bridge located nearby the Grand Piazza - very unmistakably an Asura, to start. Gest supposed that the clothes told him enough about her - most likely an intellectual, which spoke little that was useful as far as Gest could see going forward. Her manner of addressing their contact by name and with confidence at least assured him she knew how to engage in conversation well, although Gest wasn't going to judge the book by its cover just yet - even if he felt from the glance she'd given him as she passed that she might be.
The next series of events happened a little too fast for Gest to digest as they happened - shortly into the Asura's conversation with their contact, the group seemed to be joined by a mess of purple and hasty apologies. She was Sylvari upon inspection but that wasn't much to go on - highly apologetic, he supposed, but trying to read her further only caused Gest to give a quiet, curious hm as he crossed his arms, observing the events as they continued to slowly unfold.
edited 30th Jul '14 6:57:08 PM by InfiniteParagon
"You lost, Dio. You lost for one simple reason - you were using charcoal." - Hank Hill
Thom Raiwhat?
Caleiwyn took a deep breath, her sap surging as she looked down at the Asura she was meant to be protecting. It was definitely her. She had the right hair, the right face, even the right cravat. All she needed to do was explain her Hunt, and she'd be able to finally carry it out.
"Um," she began, before pausing. What was she meant to say? Would a non-Sylvari even know what a Wyld Hunt was? She was pretty sure she'd heard that the Asura were meant to be really smart, so maybe. "Um," she said again, with a little more conviction, before launching into her explanation. "Okay. So about a week ago I saw a vision in the Dream, and - please don't take offence to this, but you were kind of dying in my Dream, and I had this feeling that if I didn't protect you, you really would die. So basically, the Dream sent me to look after you and make sure that you don't die, and I can't really disobey an order like that. Not that I even want to, anyway, because this the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me, but, you know. If you don't have me to protect you, you'll probably die, so wherever it is you're going, I'm going with you. Sorry about the short notice."
The human standing in front of the group folded his arms, eyes burning into Caleiwyn's skull. If she were more easily intimidated, she might have flinched. As it was, she stared right back at him. She wasn't entirely sure why she was getting involved in a staring contest with a stranger, but she wasn't going to let herself lose.
"A Wyld Hunt, is it?" mused Casimir. "I wonder what prompted that." He broke eye contact with Caleiwyn, turning his gaze to the Asura. "It's up to you whether you want to take her up on her offer, of course, but I'd highly recommend it. I've heard that the Dream's prophecies tend to be accurate." He turned his gaze back to Caleiwyn, just as she finished vigorously blinking. "Do you know how to fight, Sylvari?"
Caleiwyn pulled the staff from her back, twirling it with a wide grin. "I've been in Warden training my whole life!"
"And how long would that be?" Casimir asked, an amused smile flickering across his face.
"Maybe... three months?"
Anyway here's Blackwall
The dust didn't quite seem to have settled in the Grand Piazza. It coated every surface almost imperceptibly, only to rise and whirl through the air at the slightest disturbance. A fine layer of it began to coat Casimir Fiore's shoes as he walked.
The lion at the centre of the plaza was destroyed, which wasn't surprising. Invaders had a habit of destroying the statue. Casimir wondered sometimes whether any of them had bothered to read the inscription on the statue's base.
The statue lay in two pieces, but the inscription was still intact. That was symbolism for you. If you really wanted to make a statement, you'd be much better off trying to destroy the inscription, but it was rare for anyone to try that.
Almost automatically, Casimir reached out to touch the lion's fallen head.
"From ruin we prosper," he murmured, withdrawing his hand. He clapped his hands together to get rid of the dust, and then stood still, waiting.
Casimir was an island of opulence in the centre of the ruined and abandoned -plaza. He was clearly wealthy - his short, curly hair smelled faintly of fine perfume, as did his perfectly-tailored clothes. His eyes were keen and dark, and he stood straight-backed despite being well into middle age. He was scrupulously clean-shaven. He might have been a target for looters, but only unobservant ones - the others would note the pistol hanging by his side, and the two fierce-eyed Charr that followed him at a distance, standing an unobtrusive guard over him.
His new team would be here soon. Their instructions had been sent to them the night before - meet in the Grand Piazza at noon. Casimir had no doubt that each of them would receive their instructions. He had some doubts as to whether or not they would actually turn up, but he supposed that would have to be the first test.
He reached into a pocket of his red overcoat, and pulled out a glittering watch. Ten minutes to noon.
edited 24th Jul '14 7:15:49 PM by KiriAme
Anyway here's Blackwall