The Rima Lee

[Archer_Rellis]

“Hey!” shouted the deep, guttural tone voice of a Bangaa. “Careful with thos~ lines~!” The voice shouted with a hint of agitation on the already brash accent. “You’ going to crassh us~!” He hissed, his ‘s’s sounded even more distorted than usual as he squawked at a group of Moogles struggling to anchor one of the tow lines to the port as the heap of a ship was being steered in.

The Bangaa was fairly typical of his people, short-fused, stubborn and rough around the edges. He folded his arms, shaking his snout at the tiny furballs as they regained control of the ship while it was landing. “Cap’n is~ gonna to be furious~ if you sscratch ‘is~ baby!” He shouted one last time, turning to make sure that the rest of the numbskull crew was doing their job right.

This tall, green scaled tyrant of the Rima Lee’s deck was Rahzil, the First Mate under Captain Hughes. He belonged to a group of bounty-hunters who sought after pirates both sky bound and below. He was dressed in loose trousers, made of simple brown textile, his tail; lashing about behind him lazily was clad in leather plated armor, the same style wrapping his left arm from shoulder to the back of his hand. He bore a cutlass at his waist for skirmishing, though preferred to fight with tooth and claw. His snout was long, but came to a round point rather than the ling spindly ones some of his kinsmen sported. His four long ears where decorated with silver rings.

Rahzil wasn’t entirely green, his snout, chest and stomach where an off-white, and around his amber eyes where orange markings, the same color lining his back in jagged stripes. Although most of the deckhand feared his iron-fist dictatorship, they also respected and revered their reptilian friend, as it hasn’t been more than once that he has saved them.

 

[mireille]

With movements like a shadow, virtually silent even on the spiked heels of her armored stiletto shoes, Lyra made her way across the deck and towards the Bangaa with her long ears partially flattened along her head. She had been over-seeing their landing from further up on the deck, undoubtedly tending to whatever it was that she did while the ship was in the air; any time one of her crewmates sought her out, the Viera was usually below deck tending to various matters, and shirking any attempts to engage her in conversation. While she had been a member of the crew for quite awhile, she had managed to avoid forming any bonds with anyone as well as keeping her entire person shrouded in a veil of mystery.

”Don’t be too hard on them, Rahzil,” came an accented female voice, low, but carrying easily over the clamor of the crew preparing their embankment. It came as a surprise to the aforementioned Moogles and they faltered long enough to realize they would earn themselves another warning if they continued to delay. She turned slowly to look at Rahzil, her eyes narrowed and her voice unreadable. ”You can’t rely on them for everything. Are you afraid of getting your hands dirty?” It was not entirely clear in what manner she meant this, jest or otherwise, but take it as he would, she brushed passed him with her long white hair swaying behind her, not intentionally appearing as standoffish as it came across.

Lyra’s lips glossed in white set in her typical expressionless line that at times lent her a look of amusement but usually came across as a frown of distaste. Her stomach and thighs were bared, the typical fairer shade of the Veena Vieras, but she wore across her chest very light armor that was silver in color laid atop a sheer top that held substance where it mattered to conceal her body and billowed about her arms in an elegant manner. On her lower half she wore a much simpler strip of this almost sheer cloth suspended by a thinly twined cord, and armor along the sides of her legs contoured to her shape. While her armor looked more of a decoration than a method of protection, but crafted as they were the substance was more durable than it appeared.

The great ship shifted beneath them, signifying the cut of the primary engines, and the roar on her deck died down substantially as the crew took a moment to gather their orders before disembarking if given permission. Solajn was the name of the town where they stopped now, a town unaffiliated with any pirate guilds and largely ignored by the officials of Ivalice. Its neutral status made it a popular stopover and resupply center for outlaws. It was nestled in the crook of a cliff, a large span of buildings situated around an even larger port southeast of the Euryt Village.

Seemingly drawn by the sight of the village, Lyra hesitated, her hip cocked to the side, her eyes moving slowly. They would not be here long, but the desire to be out of the air and on solid ground was nothing something an earthbound creature could easily ignore, though she could think of no plausible reason for her to leave the ship. Frustrated, she turned to look at her crewmate, her arms folded beneath her breasts. She was looking at him so pointedly, it was hard to ignore.

 

[Archer_Rellis]

Rahzil cringed as the accusing tone oh so familiar rang through his mind. Although he didn’t hear it often, it was still unmistakable, even above the clamor of the harbor. Turning towards the sound, his slit pupils narrowed as he was called out. “Ahhh… but if I’m not hard on ‘em, who will be? Hmm?” He said, fighting back as he shook his head. He waited for her to face him, only to receive a critique about his position aboard the ship. Her words boiled his short-fused temper, and he let out a deep grumble as he was called out. “I’ve been on this ship before any of ye!” He challenged, watching as she moved past him, spreading his arms wide to his side. “You know very well that I’ve earned my privileges~, and if any of these hair brained wannabes~ want anything, then they need to earn it!”

He snuffed, knowing his point was made, even if it fell upon deaf ears. He wondered how someone with such large ears could so easily ignore so much as he pivoted, brushing aside his frustration as the ship jerked into it’s final position for the time. Calling out to the crew he dismissed them from their duties until further notice “All right, you ladies~ can take leave.” Rahzil, being one of the longest lasting members of the Rima Lee’s crew, didn’t enjoy being sized up, especially from someone he saw as a lesser rank than himself. This attitude was probably part of the pack-mentality that his kind still clung onto, a remnant of their tribal past.

Rotating back to his female companion, he was unnerved to be greeted by the look she so often gave. It wasn’t even the look, he was getting the whole deal; the stance, the cold glare and the deep-pitted sense that he had done something to terribly annoy her, even if that wasn’t what was on her mind, but the Bangaa had given the quest to figure her out long ago. “I really hates~ that look… It always~ makes me feel like I’m doin’ something wrong.” Rahzil gave a sigh, “So, have you any business~ here?” he asked, in a small attempt to make conversation.

 

[mireille]

For a long while, it seemed as though the Viera wasn’t going to bother with answering his question, though there was an unmistakable light of amusement in her eyes, the source of which was not clear. The Bangaa’s snarls in response to her remark sent all those nearest them scurrying further away from them, though it was obviously more of a lament of self defense than a threat of some kind; but they knew better than to risk his temper. If anything, her own position on the crew was far more questionable since she seemed to put in the very minimum of hard physical labor on her own part, but her standoffish personality tended to deter any questions or resentment her crewmates may have held for her.

Seemingly contemplating her response, she said slowly in a voice that was as low and expressionless as before, ”No.”

The near silence on the deck was a little disquieting, the cry of the large cliff birds and the endless whisper of a sharp northern wind buffeted by the edges of the cliff the only sound of any prominence to reach them. A sudden breeze ruffled the sheer material about her waist and stirred the thick fringe of white bangs curling elegantly about her cheeks. She was watching an airship ship that had docked long before them, longer than the Rima Lee with a tapered nose, painted primarily in shades of brilliant yellow with black highlights, an odd combination for a vessel that belonged in the sky. Thus far she hadn’t laid eyes on a single occupant, and it almost seemed a ghost ship. Her ears didn't detect the sound of even a single running engine or a single voice. At this thought, she looked toward the port and curiously noted the lack of people along its bank.

When it seemed as though that was all she was going to say, she continued. ”This is the first time that we have made landfall in a long time.” Her voice was soft, but wistful now. She dropped her arms to her side, abandoning the defensively crossed arms.

”Perhaps we can gather information while we are here. I have heard,” she said, turning her head slowly to look at him with, her face carefully devoid of any readable expression, ” that the taverns in Solajn are famous for the mead produced from the forests around these cliffs.” It would certainly sound like a bribe more than a useless piece of trivia provided for virtually no purpose, and with this simple invitation poised as a statement, Lyra donned her elbow length gloves, which were fitted at the back of her hands with a pair of long, curved, double-sided daggers, and disembarked without fanfare or a backward glance.

 

[Archer_Rellis]

Rahzil stared rather blankly, waiting for his long-eared companion to answer his question in any form. As usual, however, just as he was about to give up with her, she made a response. He should know better not to be shocked by her blatant, to-the-point answers, but he was still caught off guard by it. “No?” he asks, shaking his head as he waved a hand at her, moving away as he intended to leave the ship letting her do as she pleased. He didn’t have the desire to take deal with her attitude, or lack of one, for that matter.

“Just straight up, no.” He murmured to himself, snapping some remark in a Bangaa tongue, stepping towards the plank of the ship to dismiss himself to a bar. However, before he stepped off the vessel he turned to her one last time. “I’ll never understand you Lyra.” He commented, noticing her ever-present blank stare into the horizon. He turned his amber hued eyes the same direction, nothing on the horizon, the port, or even sky showing anything remarkably interesting to the reptilian, resulting in an uninterested shrug. She always seemed to have something going on in her mind. As to what it was, exactly, he would likely never know. In fact, Rahzil wasn’t even sure what her job aboard the Rima Lee was. Though, he tolerated her all the same, mostly because she was a capable fighter if need be, but it didn’t hurt that she was the only female over two feet tall on the ship, and quite easy on weary eyes.

He pivoted once more, and again, just as he was about the exit the ship she spoke. He grew frustrated with her delayed mannerism; but a smile cracked on his snout as the words: “Tavern” and “Famous Mead” rang through his head. “Oh, so, why don’t we make our way to some of these taverns and see if these rumors~ are true?” He cackled, his laugh cracked and jagged, stepping to the side as she passed him, silently exiting the ship.

He followed behind her, his top-heavy body surprisingly well balanced with the aid of a tail. He was the feared brute of the ship, but it was all thick skin, and he failed to see anyone on board that he could readily trust. Especially since the crew was constantly losing members and hiring new hands. Although, that was also mostly his fault as well. He was interested in seeking out information at the taverns, it had been a while since they had a job that he had enjoyed, the small fry mop-ups they had been performing hardly satisfying, and the promise of something to drink always helped the matter.

 

[mireille]

She watched him descend with one eyebrow arched, her large feet planted at shoulder length, one arm curved at her side to finger the wrap about her waist in a thoughtful manner. She did not have to express her pleasure in him accompanying her, the simplistic gesture of awaiting his approach so that the crewmates could walk equally if he so wished. ”Try to keep up,” murmured the Viera, her right ear twitching in a way that was more rabbit-like than usual. She moved with confidence and grace, unaware of the play of sunlight like liquid silver over her clothing, her movements powerful and predatory. Every few paces she would shoot him a glance from the corners of her angular eyes, contemplating a topic of conversation that would benefit the both of them.
”We are bound to find something good” said the woman suddenly, her voice low. She stretched her hand and curled her fist, the blade catching the light and throwing it back at her face. ”I wonder what kinds of treasures are hidden in these mountainsides.”

Despite her people not being native to the area, Lyra could see the beauty in the hideously jagged asymmetrical outcroppings that was the cliff side. The outcropping where the village laid was so steep, there was no way that it had all been explored, merely traipsing near the outer edges of the villages caused the land to crumble away from one’s feet; it was said it was a only a matter of time before Solajn fell into the abyss below. The town would have been quaint if it were not a gathering area for the more unsavory travelers that walked its streets, prompting the people to cater to their needs, constructing pubs and facilities specializing in the repair of aircrafts and weaponry alike. To Lyra’s pleasure, they did not have to worry about meeting the stares or queries of the locals while they walked, as there didn’t seem to be many people milling about despite the hour of the day. An older Hume watched them from beneath the wide brim of his hat, a piece of straw bobbing between his lips, and a pair of Hume children watched them, wide-eyed, from behind a water barrel, their eyes filled with distaste.

”They are not to happy to see us, it seems.”

They approached a building after a short time that was undoubtedly a booming tavern in the cover of nightfall. During the day, however, it looked more like run down restaurant with dirty floors and void of customers. The light slanted inside through dusty windows, providing a feeble light to an area that was primarily lit with lamps. They were the only occupants other than the bartender and a scantily clad Hume waitress, as well as lump of rags sitting near the end of the table that was snoring softly.

The girl perked up momentarily, prepared to greet their guests, until she actually laid eyes on them and her face fell visibly. “Oh,” she sighed. “More pirates.” She spoke with great distaste, before turning her back on them and disappearing into the back room. The bartender was a little friendlier in his greeting, but he was wary. “What can I get for you folks?” sighed the man.

 

[Archer_Rellis]

The Bangaa busied himself with the sights of the city and the bold sight of the cliffside that created a natural barrier around it. The shadow of the looming ridge did little in the way of cooling the small settlement as the warm, briny air that wafted up from the southern seas was warm and gentile. He remained vigilant to the streets around them as they traversed, a keen eye out for thieving pickpockets. He was ready to snag the wrist of a greedy passer-by, and teach them not to take what wasn’t rightfully theirs. However, he was a bit surprised by the absence of people on the streets. Even for a smaller town such as Solajin it was eerily quiet, something was definitely amiss. “Hmm…” he responded in a quiet, albeit rough tone as he pulled his attention to Lyra. “Perhaps~ there are some old ruins to be found.” He added, grinning toothily, the thought of treasure hunting sounding much more bountiful than their usual work.

Rahzil couldn’t help but notice the shabby state most of the village was in. Although the architecture, for the most part, was nice, it was marred by shacks and shanties. Most of the buildings made from mason where falling into disrepair and neglect. “Much more poor here than I imagined.” He commented blatantly, turning to witness the elderly gentleman sizing them up, a small grunt breaking under his breath. “No, they don’t… but then again, since when is anyone happy to see me?” he asked, his mood lightening as the hint of humor played his words, a sharp chuckled following shortly after.

A large, claw clad hand held the door open for his Viera companion as they entered the tavern. He may have been a brute, but he still retained some shred of civility under his thick hide. His amber eyes, as aware as they where outside, looked about the stale atmosphere of the tavern. The flickering shadows cast by the oil lamps and fluttering dust playing in the small shards of light from the windows the most activity inside. “Dead as a doornail.” He caught the door with his tail as it swung closed, quietly settling it back in its frame so it wouldn’t slam and draw too much attention, even if there was all but nobody present in the bar. He turned to the man peacefully dozing in the corner, shrugging him off as a mere hobo before moving up to the bar. A smile broke his face as the Hume barmaid turned to move up to them, however before he could make a brazen comment about her looks her expression went stale, and she so open accused them of a foul trade.

Instead of simply correcting the woman, Rahzil’s eye gave a small twitch as a flicker of his mood sank. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, aside from invalid crew members, it was being wrongly judged because of his race. “Listen, Hume!” He retorted, voice rising. “Just because I don’t look like you, doesn’t give you the right to assuming anything about me!” With a deep seeded growl he turned, refusing to sit at the bar now, choosing to shift to a table at the center of the room, far from the ignorant wench, muttering to himself. “They’ll never learn that us Bangaa are more than brutes out to destroy them.”

Rahzil didn’t even notice the bartender had entered while he threw his tantrum. It wasn’t until the man spoke that he responded, turning towards them and informing the man that his employee should watch her tongue better, and stating how it’s no wonder their business is so poor if that is how patrons are treated. But his tone was beginning to subside as fast as it rose. He set his elbows on the table, resting his snout in one of his hands as, letting himself cool down.