Taking a Rebel

[Insomnium Savant]

Azraeth pulled the little disk from the pack that rested against his hip, letting the hologram flicker into existence so that he could stoop his broad shoulders and peer into the seemingly endless lines which denoted the city before him. He had been put on assignment near the rebel border. Being a decently new recruit to the Templar, he was being paired with someone who was intended to be either much stronger within the order; someone who could teach him while they completed their mission.

Apparently this guy’s name was Winter. However; that was just about all he knew about his first partner, and staring at a holo-map for hours on end wasn’t making the guy show up at their pre-destined meeting spot any faster. Frustration creased his lips downward before he tossed the thing onto the table before him, only to listen to the metal whine, and the image angrily darken away from existence; as if it were somehow sentient of his abuse.

It was at that moment that Azraeth wished he knew just a little bit more than a simple moniker. I mean Winter didn’t even sound like a real name. Had he been somehow partnered up with some kind of crazy shut in? Probably. Knowing his luck at least. A hand lifted to push through his shoulder length hair, tugging at it as if to remove the waviness, though once he let go; it was right back in place.

Leaning over the table he’d claimed in the little outside diner, he pushed his elbows to the table and thought over his other instructions. After meeting up with whoever this Winter fellow was, the pair of them would cross the rebel border, and begin to track along some of the border cities; trying to pick up information that could be valuable to the Templars. Simple, right?

A wave of anxiety clenched at the base of his spine as he straightened up, and looked around as if someone could have read his mind. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t where he was for his own selfish reasons. No. He had made an oath to the Mother that he would serve his people, that he would ensure their protection and safety; and it was something that he wasn’t willing to negotiate on. Resolve steeling in his gut, he leaned back in his seat, glancing about the open market.

There were a few shops that were lined up on either side of the street, some grocers, a few textile specialists, but nothing opulent, and nothing that was either too populated or unpopulated. The place was perfect for a first meeting.

A waitress passed, tapping his shoulder again for the third time to ask if he needed anything to drink. The man’s lips peeled away from almost feline canines as he smiled to her, with the shake of his head. He wasn’t thirsty, not for anything that she could offer, at least, but he was on the cusp of a new adventure; and for that he was ravenous.

~Azraeth

 

[Gambler]

The wind roared through the city, carrying an icy chill to every building. Clouds drifted lazily in the sky, pools of mercury against a blue background. The sun was a bloody teardrop half hidden by the a stray cloud, rays of light bursting through the grey of the sky. Buildings, some tall and others stolid, were scattered without any thoughts of order. It seemed as if the city was built layer by layer. Newer facilities sprung out of necessity, adding to the area piece by piece until it could be called a city. At one end of the city stood Winter, a man robed in red.

There he stood, watching the passersby as they went about their business. Some glanced at him in passing but never more than that. He was a curious site in those blood red robe, features hidden under a deep cowl, and as far as the locals were concerned that was what he would remain. He stood, unmovable as a statue, the wind whipping around him like a maelstrom. Under the cowl, cyan eyes glowed eerily in the fading light.

He was waiting. On the threshold of death was where he stood and there he would wait. One step forward and he would be in hostile territory. Just one step. That was all it would take. One step and he would be at his destination. Metaphorically, it all worked out. Physically, he still had to cross the entire city to reach his goal. His leg twitched.

The wind, bristling in agitation, took action before he could so much as blink. A sudden gust threw his balance, forcing him to take a step forward to keep on his feet. 'Just one step,' the wind whispered, mocking laughter in the undertones of its voice. That was all it took. One step and Winter began a new journey. He walked in to the city, marveling at the sheer chaos around him. Buildings were askew; there was no order to the layout.

His sight seeing was cut short as his thoughts drifted to the mission ahead. He would be in hostile territory, hunting down rebel Tae in search of vital information. It was a mission any Templar would jump at if given the opportunity, yet Winter's motives went deeper than that. A few years ago he had been ambushed on his sojourn from Tae'sha. In the process his memory fled, either hiding away in the deepest parts of his mind or altered completely. He knew his name and random events since his childhood, but even then what he could remember was hazy at best.

On this mission he would have the chance to find people who knew him before his amnesia. People who might know more of his past. The holes in his memory might finally be filled. Might was the operating word. The chances of finding someone who knew him during his childhood was slim enough, but add to that trying to find someone who knew something about his past was even slimmer. Winter could never be described as an open individual. At best he was secretive. At worst he could be considered to border on paranoia.

He shook his head, physically clearing away the thoughts. It would do him no good to consider the odds. He would go about his mission and hope for the best. Maybe someone would know him, maybe not. In any case, he needed to be at the top of his game. His focus needed to be absolute, especially if he was going to bring a newer recruit along with him. Without any knowledge of this man's skills, relying on him in a combat scenario would be like relying on a man one passed on the streets to protect oneself from potential assailants.

He added another point to his mental list: delve in to Azraeth's combat abilities. Otherwise the journey ahead promised to be brutally short with almost prophetic results. Winter didn't even need to be a Seer to predict that.

A door swung open, almost hitting him in the face as a waitress scurried out. Winter chose to ignore the woman and made his way inside. He scoured the rather small crowd of cliental until his eyes came to rest on a broad shouldered man. "Azraeth?" He asked, approaching the man lazily. No need to appear in a hurry. They had all the time in the world.

 

[Insomnium Savant]

A chill carried its way through the little diner; not that such was strange with the cool weather around the border; but something about it sparked interest within Azraeth. The man lifted his head, tipping it up at an angle as if he were in deep thought. His eyes, which were a vibrant almost swirling mix of dark viridian, leafy verdant, and bright celadon, closed. Yes, there was just a taste of the Art in the wind that had carried through the outside portion of the diner; he could feel it in his bones the way he felt the breeze against his face.

With any luck, whatever was affecting the atmosphere was his soon to be partner, and not some unknown force, or even worse, some oppositional force that he would have to eliminate. The man drew a breath in, a talon pendant pushing and pulling as his chest did, just over the layer of chestnut which was Azraeth’s over-shirt. Even in the cold; the man displayed his penchant for distaste in clothing. He was only wearing a few layers; first the brown over-shirt, a simple white garment under that; and pants which were like denim in composition, but sepia in color. The outfit was completed by isabelline boots that came up to mid calf, and had criss-crossing leather-like straps to keep them in place.

When the crimson robed figure made his way into the diner, Azraeth silently wondered if he would be the one; he certainly looked like he could pass for the part of Seer. And lo, his suspicions were confirmed when he heard his name. Instantly, he began to feel more than just a bit better about the whole situation, the corners of his mouth peaking to either side to reveal just enough ivory beneath to make it clear that he was glad to see the man.

“Over here, friend!” He called as he moved to stand. At six foot, six inches tall, he was a large figure, but practice and patience had taught him how to quiet his presence so that he was not quite so dominating. He had found that being absurdly tall made for many attempted tavern brawls; and generally being a non-aggressive by nature, he disliked the notion of something about him being the inherent cause of contention. “And you are Winter?” He questioned with just a little uncertainty, a hand sliding toward the cowled figure.

Of course the guy was Winter, why was he even asking? Well, there was always the possibility that a transmission could have somehow been intercepted, and the man he was talking to, was some kind of rebel. Azraeth had, had the fortune of already having been border trawling when his assignment had come; and because there was no Templar outpost this far out, there was no way of being 100% sure that the directives had been secure; at least not to the somewhat tech impaired Tae.

Indeed, outside of the most standard and popular of technologies that had been made readily available on Tae’Sha, there wasn’t all that much Azraeth was adept in the use of. His family had been one of those rare groups that believed in anti-machinery as a show of homage to Shalharra. Azraeth was nowhere near as fanatical, but he didn’t generally bother to learn about what he deemed to be gadgets and devices unless he needed them.

The man let his eyes transition from the ceiling to Winter's own cyan hues; a habit that he was trying to break. This was a meeting afterall.

~Azraeth

 

[Gambler]

Winter acknowledged his acquaintance with a curt nod. "You may call me that, if you wish," he said. He glanced down at the proffered hand quizzically and made no move to grab it. "Formalities escape me." He took a seat at the table, directly across from Azraeth. Turquoise eyes sized the larger man up, measuring and calculating his worth. If Winter felt anything he did not show it. Those eyes were flat and listless, almost glazed. In their depths, a hint of acceptance bloomed.

"You will do," he said, once more in that deadened tone. The men drew an interesting contrast; one open and warm, the other impassive and cold. Whoever had arranged the partnership was either brilliant or incompetent. Only time would tell if the two would be compatible with one another. Winter almost felt sorry for Azraeth if they ended up being unsuitable for each other. In any case, he would play with the hand he was dealt.

The waitress returned, asking if the two would like something to whet their appetites. Winter shook his head, waving her away with a flick of his wrist. His eyes traveled from her departing back to rest upon the table. He made no motion to leave the cafe, feeling content to discuss his mission out in the open. It was a bold move, one that could possibly place them right in the hands of the enemy, but Winter did not worry about that. He was confident in his own abilities, trusting that he could in the very least survive whatever fate decided to throw at them.

His eyes lingered on the table for a moment more, savoring the silence around him. He was a creature of isolation, preferring his own company over that of others. The silence was his, and it suited him well. He breathed deeply, maintaining the silence. It was his and he was loathe to allow another to break it.

Then he broke it. "To what extent have you studied the Art?" He asked, shattering the silence like glass dropped from the sky. The words were cool and crisp, a simple question begging an even simpler answer. The effect was instantaneous. His words cut through the shroud of silence, bringing a moment of awkwardness to the table. Once more Winter reminded himself that he was not a people person.

 

[Insomnium Savant]

Azraeth instantly had this sinking feeling that the two of them wouldn’t be getting along well at all. However, he didn’t mind dealing with what appeared to be the other man’s either condescension or lack of social prowess. Whatever the situation, it didn’t matter so much as their mission did. In the man’s own mind, he could deal with just about anything in order to accomplish his goals; not that Winter appeared to be so bad, but he could definitely see why he would be given such a starkly cold name.

"Formalities escape me."

“If you have to say that, then they don’t escape you. You just don’t want to see them.” Came his instant reply to the words as he pulled his hand back, pushing it into the front pocket of his brownish pants. He quickly reclaimed the seat that he’d been in just moments before, his boots scraping over the floor in an effort to carry him into the four footed beast of his chair. Once he’d settled back in, his elbows once more pushed onto the table as if he owned it, and was more than familiar with the man across from him.

Just as he was about to ask if Winter meant that he could call the fellow Tae ‘friend’ or by his name, the waitress once more interrupted in order to ask for what seemed to be the hundredth time whether or not they needed a drink. Azraeth was a man of much patience, but the woman was more than attentive to their needs; and he was almost glad that the other man waved her off lest he say something out of character for his generally understanding demeanor.

When the woman had gone, though, there was an almost uncomfortable silence. Not that Az needed a great deal of ruckus around him, but he did like a bit of conversation; especially concerning that he’d likely be working with the man across from him for some time. The mission had no clear date of completion, so it was dependent largely on their ability to both work together, and work intelligently through the entire process.

"To what extent have you studied the Art?"

Az had to exhale a breath that he didn’t know had been caught in his chest. His predicament wasn’t so much that he was afraid of the other man; quite the contrary, there was little that Azraeth genuinely feared. And, he wasn’t nervous of the other’s seniority, his larger power; any of that. There was just this…well, it was like a primal and arctic aura that the other exuded. The larger tae was nearly sure that the cold wasn’t just some façade; the man before him was the epitome of a distanced disposition.

“I know only that which my family taught me, and that which my first instructor in weapons taught. From my ancestry; I have a strong grasp on control of the wild things.” He paused, after having put emphasis on a single word; wondering if the other man understood. Realizing that it didn’t particularly matter, he continued. “And, from Faela, I learned how to fortify myself against my foes; how to strengthen my defenses, but I specifically requested not to learn much in the way of offense.” He didn’t feel the need to explain the strangeness of a warrior not wishing to learn the damaging art.

“And yourself, friend?” He asked, deciding that the name would have to suffice unless he was directed otherwise.


~Azraeth

 

[Gambler]

"Extensively," Winter replied. He felt no need to answer the question in full. "The extent of my power is enough to handle any situation we encounter," he continued. "However, to satisfy your curiosity, suffice to say that the Art is my life." That being said he lowered the cowl of his robe, letting his face come fully in to the light. His hair, paler than snow, fell to his collar, some of the ends branching out from being constricted under the hood. The hair covering his forehead was matted down with sweat, but none of the moisture escaped the fine line of his eyebrows.

He sighed, eyes shutting for a breath. When they opened, some of the intensity that had previously shone diminished. He felt calmer, almost sedated. Now he knew who his ally was and had at least a general idea of how much he could rely on the man in a fight. The tension eased out of him to the slightest of degrees. With that out of the way they could get on with the real business: their mission.

"Small talk is not my forte," Winter said. The message was clear: he was going to be curt and to the point, as much as the current task allowed him to be. "We will begin at the outpost located on the north most point of this city. From there we will work our way in as quickly and quietly as possible. In short, we are not to blast through ranks of rebel forces in our effort to take a single man or two," he said mostly for his own benefit. It was always good to remind oneself not to rush in to things. Especially when one's method of combat involved blowing everything in site in to thousands of burning pieces.

He fell silent then, mulling over the task ahead. Getting in did not concern him. As long as they avoided direct confrontation with the guards they should be able to slip right in without hassle. What did concern him was what he would learn once the questioning began. The chances of finding someone who knew him were low, but that did nothing to dampen his hopes. As long as the mere chance of filling those hole remained he would hope. Even if he was risking his life to do it. The only problem was Azraeth. Was he willing to risk another's life on the off chance of filling a memory? The question had no easy answer.

"Is there anything else you wish to know?" His tone implied a note of openness as opposed to the air of frigid cold he had been exerting. It was a challenge, but he decided that the tradeoff was worth it. After all, he was about to possibly sacrifice this man's life to achieve a personal goal. Why not give him the satisfaction of a few questions? Social interaction could not truly damage him, even being a creature of isolation. "Well?" That didn't mean he would be patient about it.

 

[Insomnium Savant]

An instant trepidation twisted in Azraeth’s stomach as he heard the other man talking about their mission so openly. He had expected, when he had learned the location of their meeting, that they would quickly move to a new place to discuss the details; not that Winter said anything of overwhelming importance, or anything that could be somehow be used against them. Still, that instinctive fear of being caught was there; though Az was able to suppress it with a firm wave of mental resolve, which settled his nerves, and soothed the little spikes of nervous question that had edged their way up his spine.

“However, your gift for stating the obvious is noted.” He said in response to the man’s admission; using it as a preface and a way to hopefully mask the few moments of worry. “I am sure that we can handle it. I honestly prefer to only use force as a final resort to diplomacy and good, old fashioned detective work.” The final words were spoken as he once more moved into a stand, more than willing and able to jump immediately into action. Luckily, both he and his companion were Tae, which meant that they wouldn’t have to deal with a great deal of deception in order to fit in.

With a shift on his heels towards the entrance, he heard the man’s final words spoken, and he had to glance over his shoulder to reply. “I only wanted to ask if you intended to let the chair that you’re sitting on make an impression of your backside.” He smiled immediately after to reveal the lack of venom in his words, voice having carried back easily to the other man, the somber depths not betraying the little touches of humor that sparked within it.

Turing back, he lifted a hand, pushing his fingers through those long tangles, which given the time of year, were colored dark like fresh turned volcanic soil. The same, rather annoying, waitress passed him on his way out. The little open market was towards the center of the town, just to one side of the political center. The northern barricade of the city was only a short walk away, the residential district being some several kilometers to the south; a small border town to start their journey.