A Port Unseen [Open]
Renaud Cartier

Age: 21 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 3
Played by: Nate Offline
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Posts: 4
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#1
Renaud seemed to suddenly appear a few feet above the dirt, almost suspended for just a moment.  The momentum of his previous moment - his previous life - seemed to carry him forward, and though he landed on his feet he actually tumbled forward and crashed to his side in the black dust surrounding the spire.  In an instant he was on his feet, hair flinging from side to side as he turned himself back and forth in desperate, furious confusion.  He had been seated, just a moment before ... no, not quite, not a seat, a creature - a horse.  His horse.  He and his men had been in the thick of a pitched battle, the sides fearfully even and the consequences of defeat grave.  What had taken place?  Had he been struck, knocked unconscious?  Had he spent weeks unconscious, only having just wandered from a military hospital in a daze?  Was he dead?  Was this heaven?


The young officer suddenly found the presence of mind to look down at himself.  He still wore his uniform - blue double breasted coat, white pants, and black boots.  Upon discovering that the sheath on his hip hung empty, Renaud suddenly recalled his sword had been in his hand whenever this transformation took place.  He must have dropped it.  Of course his carbine, previously slung over his shoulder, had also disappeared in one way or another.  What in hells had happened?  Cartier forced himself to ignore the slash on his left outer thigh, taking no time to assess its depth.  He felt a liquid pouring from the wound and mistakenly assumed it would be blood.  He took no time to check, but if he had he would have noticed its clear nature.  Renaud didn't know it, but he would never bleed red again.


Renaud spun again, and saw finally some tall building extending into the sky.  Couldn't be heaven, he thought, his gaze trailing slowly up the height of the tower, you don't go to heaven with wounds.  Must be I've found myself in hell.


He didn't know it, but the right side of his head was caked in gunpowder, sticking to his cheek and caking his hair to his head.  Falling upon his arrival had also left black dirt across his right side, leaving his uniform stained and ruined.  Stumbling around some feet from the tower, Renaud seemed almost like a dying man one might witness emerging from the thick fog of a furious battlefield.  He was lost, stunned, and desperate to return to his men and his battle.  His face was frozen in a look of maddened calculation.  Further, he could feel something...burning within him.  Almost like his insides were heating up.  This deeply confused him, and he could feel himself getting weaker and weaker by the moment.  He needed answers quickly.

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Rathskeller Owner
Age: 19 | Height: 6' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 9 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 8 - Luck: 6
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 51
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#2
i like it when you take control
Own me, I'll let you play the role
You've been investigating the big black dick in the sky, because when there's a big black dick in the sky why wouldn't you investigate it? Granted, it looks a little worse for wear: crumbly as all shit, and apparently hollow, like maybe it'll fall apart under a stiff breeze. Mentally, you make a note to tell Kiada to kill you if any part of you ever starts to look so awful, especially your dick.

Anyway. So you're sitting on a rock and eating an apple (of which there is a surplus in this shithole, but ask for a pomegranate and they treat you like you're insane) and admiring the BBD when *pop!* some poor sap appears out of nowhere, filthy as all fuck and looking like he just stepped out of a war. Not your type, but hey, you have a soft spot for the lost and lonely.

And you're bored.

Hopping down from your rock, you saunter toward the man, your long-sleeved black dress clinging to your curves. Stopping a solid ten feet away (you're not a moron; you know to be safe), you tilt your head, taking another bite from your apple and sizing up the man. "Well, then, soldier boy, don't you look a fright."
EZRA
i'll be your animal
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Renaud Cartier

Age: 21 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 3
Played by: Nate Offline
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Posts: 4
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#3
Renaud hadn't had the presence of mind to consider for a moment that someone else might be around.  Quite a failure of instinct for a trained officer, but then again this was an entirely unique circumstance.  Cartier took a step toward Ezra, perhaps too energetically but not threatening - not intentionally, anyway.  He was surprised that the familiar stab of pain did not shoot through his leg, but assumed his nerves were preventing him from feeling much of anything.


What is he wearing he thought, robes?  Renaud had certainly never seen a man dressed in such a way, but he had heard of those in the east wearing robes.  Perhaps this was something similar.  Had Renaud been stolen away somehow, across a continent?  Cartier's head was spinning.  He felt that he could pass out at any second.  His insides were suddenly like a pot of water boiling over low heat.  It was so odd.  There was no pain, not quite, but he was intensely aware that something was happening to his insides.  Suddenly, some distant voice from within his head seemed to whisper to him.  Indoors, the voice seemed to say, go indoors.  


"Du ... Bonjour, je suis un -"  Renaud had begun in his native tongue out of habit, ignoring the stranger's comment on his appearance.  Then, realizing he had been addressed in another language he understood, he repeated; "Hello, I am -  I need to know ... where am I?  Is this ... Milan?  Piedmont? I need to return to the army."  He forced himself to ignore the stranger's odd dress, as well as the unique way he spoke and carried himself.  The young officer had never seen anyone like him.


Cartier's voice was shaky as he spoke, his nerves and weakness testing the learned confidence and strength with which he had taught himself to speak.  The fluid leaking from the wound in his leg, though colorless, was beginning to soak through the fabric of his uniform pants.  He forced himself to ignore a deep instinct in the back of his mind that was telling him the fluid itself seemed to be warming at a slow yet constant rate.

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Rathskeller Owner
Age: 19 | Height: 6' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 9 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 8 - Luck: 6
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 51
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#4
i like it when you take control
Own me, I'll let you play the role
Ooo, he speaks another language, isn't that exciting? Instantly the little soldier gains like ten points your eyes, though he was starting pretty low so there's still quite a bit of room for improvement. Fuck, but he looks like shit. You appraise him again, taking in the weird clear liquid wound and the dirt on his face and the fact that he looks like he's about to collapse at any minute. Poor little buck.

Wounded and lost, but at least he speaks common. You shake your head sadly at him, remembering this whole nightmare like it was last season (it was). "No, honey, you're in Caido. A magical fantasy shithole with unicorns and way too many trees and a big 'ol dick in the sky." You point a thumb at the offending structure rolling your shoulders in a languid shrug. "You came in through a portal, and now you're stuck here with the rest of us. Hope you like apples."

Stepping closer, you raise a hand to touch his cheek if he'll allow it, smiling sadly. "Don't worry, you'll figure it out. Or you won't." It really doesn't matter so much to you, now that you're sure he isn't dead. Though maybe Lucas will like him. Maybe you can bring him home.
EZRA
i'll be your animal
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Renaud Cartier

Age: 21 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 3
Played by: Nate Offline
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Posts: 4
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#5
Renaud squinted his eyes as this stranger before him outlined his situation.  Caido? What ... Fantasy unicorns?  A portal?  Cartier was subconsciously shaking his head as the stranger spoke, although of course it wasn't for long.  Apparently this person thought it was a simple matter, or one that did not require much explanation.  Renaud, as was to be expected, did not feel the same way.  He began to speak, but was interrupted by Ezra's approach.


When Ezra neared Renaud, the officer's first instinct was to regain the former distance that had separated them.  However, before he could leap back, Ezra's hand was upon his cheek.  He should've felt it, but ... he couldn't.  His brow furrowed as he reached up and took Ezra's hand and, if allowed, moved it off of his face, holding it for just a moment before letting it go and taking a step backward.  For the brief seconds that Renaud had held Ezra's hand, he had been only distantly aware of the warmth in it that embodied all living creatures.  But the details - the creases of his palm, the ridges of his knuckles - were completely gone, as if Renaud's hands had gone blind.  He immediately ran his hands across his uniform, over its folds and buttons, until his hands found their way to his own face.  He felt nothing, no sensation from his fingers or response from his face.  


Cartier began to feel the icy tendrils of panic wrapping around his brain, almost squeezing it like a fruit.  Frustration was the immediate symptom.  "Sir," he said, his voice wavering, "I shall demand that you begin to make sense at once.  I do not know where this Caido is, I do not know what you mean by 'unicorn'," Renaud assumed it must be a mistranslation, a fault in his own understanding, but had no desire to take the time to clarify, "and have no time for your magical fantasy!  I lead a squadron of cavalry in the Republic's Army of Italy and I will be directed to my post at once or I shall have to write immediately to the army chief of staff!"


Renaud's voice had risen almost to a scream, the combination of his confusion, his wound, the odd heat within his body and his sudden lack of sensation proving too much for his mannered upbringing.


"So, Sir, I shall ask you once again; Where! Am! I!"

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Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic
Age: 21 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 0
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 43
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#6
Cera was not one to leave a debt unpaid. Too many years guiding lost souls into safety, sharing his wisdom and comfort, had left him with the yearning to continue such endeavors no matter the realm he ended up in. In many ways he us blessed to be as adaptable as he is after facing years of change and upheaval. In others, it leads to situations like, well...this.

He's traveling through the outer lands of the Spire when he hears the shouting, large ears pricked and sensitive to the decibel of sound that rises in panic and distress. From the snippets he catches of the accented words, whoever has just arrived is much more disoriented than Cera had been. His stiltlike legs carry him swiftly across the leaf-riddled earth, urgency digging its talons into his muscles and yanking him along. There's little time to waste, if the man is not alone then he's not the only one in need of help.

He shifts before he reveals himself, the man yelling seems distraught enough and Cera doesn't want to set him off. But he approaches with his hands bare and at each side, trying to appear as unobtrusive and harmless as possible. "Hey, it's okay, let's calm down alright?" he speaks softly but firmly, ready and willing to try and take control of the situation. His verdant eyes fall to the bloodied garments on one of the men, and he steps a little closer, hoping to draw his attention. "Sir, you are wounded. I am a medic, will you let me attend to you while we all figure things out?" He uses his healer voice, keeping it soft and comforting, hoping to draw the frenetic energy away from the man's mind.

He seems ancient in time and dress, and Cera knows firsthand the confusion of that. With a glance of his eyes he gently inclines his chin at Ezra, hoping to signal for the man to move further away. "My name is Cera, can you tell me yours?" If he could get him calmed and talking, perhaps they could figure things out.
Cera
The worst in me could bring out the best in you
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Rathskeller Owner
Age: 19 | Height: 6' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 9 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 8 - Luck: 6
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 51
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#7
i like it when you take control
Own me, I'll let you play the role
I'm sorry, did he just scream at you? Um, yeah, no fucking thanks.

Blah blah blah fantasy, blah blah blah Italy, blah blah blah chief of staff. Oh, man, were you this obnoxious when you showed up here? At least you didn't scream at anyone, confused as you may have been. Rude. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Un-hot. Stepping away from the filthy disaster, you cross your arms and wrinkle your nose. "You're in Wonderland, darling, high as a kite. Maybe consider laying off the opium, hm?"

Luckily for the both of you, an incredibly short little man appears out of nowhere to step in. Not your type, but you're happy to have some backup at least. "I am calm, Munchkin," you reply imperiously, turning up your nose and stepping further away. "He's the one who's an un-hot mess."

You're ready to be over this, but something stays you a moment, something you noticed but didn't register at first. Glancing back over your shoulder at the pair, you lower your brows a moment, frowning. Curse your perfect heart of 24 carat gold. "You know, Rainy, your blood isn't blood. Pretty sure you're in danger of catching on fire, if you stay out in the sun."
EZRA
i'll be your animal
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Renaud Cartier

Age: 21 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 3
Played by: Nate Offline
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Posts: 4
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#8


Renaud narrowed his eyes at the stranger across from him.  "Opium?  I shall have you know -" ... He was suddenly interrupted by a third voice, belonging to a small figure that had appeared so suddenly.  Cartier glanced over at the newcomer for a brief moment, his irritation with Ezra almost clouding his eyes, but something forced him to take a second look.  His eyes became fixed on the stranger, some odd force almost demanding that Renaud give this new person all the attention he could muster. This new man entered the situation with an apparent desire for peace, his voice soft and warm:

"Hey, it's okay, let's calm down alright?"

Renaud blinked twice, his being seemingly ripped in three or four different directions.  He almost didn't register Ezra's characteristically sardonic replies.  The stranger in black had spoken before Renaud could muster the ... ability?  The courage?

Ezra mentioned something about catching on fire.  Renaud wanted to push for an explanation, but before he could the third stranger had identified himself.  His name was Cera, and he wanted Renaud's.  

"I am Cornet Renaud Cartier," he said with as much dignity as he could muster.  Cornet was a low rank, essentially the lowest an officer could have, but perhaps these strangers wouldn't know the difference.  He made an attempt to take a step forward, but it was with his wounded leg and the step became something more of a stumble. He retained his footing, but only just.

"This ... gentleman has not the manners to answer my questions directly and insists on playing games.  Time is not on my side so you shall forgive me if I must demand frank and honest information.  This man appears unwilling to give me such a thing.  He speaks, if you can believe it, of magic, unicorns, and now of catching fire in the sunlight?"  Renaud nearly choked on the end of his sentence.  Some small part of him, hidden deep away within his heart, seemed to be screaming at him that there was truth to Ezra's comment about catching fire and having ... bloodless blood.

"You seem civilized, Cera, so I will turn my questions to you.  Where am I?"  He cleared his throat.  

"And, du... you may do what you can for my wound.  I hate to impose but it must be more severe than I at first thought.   I find myself feeling quite weak at the moment, physically speaking."




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Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic
Age: 21 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 0
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 43
MP:
#9
Everything hangs tensely for a moment, though the long-haired fellow seems to rebound with a quick and careless grace that is - while annoying in some ways with his choice of words - at least a relief, as clearly Cera doesn't have to try and help him as well as the newcomer. Though at his little quip, Cera can't help but send a wry smile his way. "Height can be a deceiving measure of size," he quietly snips back. Of all who found him short, Cera was the number one. His original form had been so tall and long-legged, it had been a confusing change to suddenly be so...vertically challenged. He'd heard every joke in the book though, so the man's comment rolls off like water on a duck's back.

Instead he turns his full attention to the stranger, who is blinking slow and still clearly distressed. Cera turns to face him fully, leaving Ezra to wander off wherever his whims take him as he was clearly fine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Renaud," he says softly instead, mustering a warm but cordial smile. Cera can't help but jerk forward in instinctive desire to grab and help support Renaud when he stumbles, but he withholds his touch at the last moment.

His heart aches as the man despairingly lists the admittedly hard to swallow list Ezra had given him, the pinch of his face squeezing in Cera's chest. He is so lost, so unsure, and Cera relates so much but he knows the news he has to deliver will only be marginally better worded than what Renaud had already been told. Some battles are not meant to be won, some wounds cannot be stalled, and he knows this. He is a wise, aged soul despite this youthful body, and though he wishes to spare Renaud from the pain of displacement he knows he cannot in good faith do so.

At Ezra's parting words his shoulders stiffen, realizing exactly what he's dealing with past his own suspicions. "First let's get to some shade, I may need you to sit to wrap that wound. Do you need help?" If Renaud is truly an Ascended, Cera needs to get him out of the sun. He offers his elbow and shoulder for Renaud to take if he desires, but otherwise does not speak until they can get further under the canopy of the trees by the Spire. He can't risk spooking the newcomer with knowledge he does not want to hear, and sending him further off into the woods.

"I know what I am going to say will sound confusing, but I ask that you trust I'm only telling you the truth," he prefaces. "This land is called Caido. I'm afraid you have arrived here through means we cannot explain well, but this is not, ah - what did you call it? - Italy. I know that is frightening, but I will answer as many questions as I can, as quickly or slowly as you need them." He's wary of giving too much information at once and overwhelming Renaud, so he leaves it at that for now. Renaud had seemed more concerned with knowing where he was and how to return to his post, and hopefully the answer to that will settle him enough for Cera to wrap his wound.

Nimble worker's hands dive into his satchel to pull out gauze from the Infirmary that he'd started carrying around, as well as a small vial of witch hazel to clot the...fluid. He's unsure how the clear fluid works for Ascended beings, but it's better to at least try. Gesturing with the gauze, Cera waits for a physical response from Renaud before he gets close enough to begin treatment.
Cera
The worst in me could bring out the best in you
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