Legends of Belariath

Craven

A white-furred cat person with blue eyes and lightning-bolt patterns on his face and hands stands before you, dressed in a bright, soft orange coverall that looks unusually thick and heavy. Heavy straps and d-rings are sewn into the material to provide attachment points for ropes, equipment and other items. On the arms, legs and back are silvery material strips that almost glow of their own accord.

When you notice he's carrying a large helmet under his arm, you realize that the coverall is actually a suit of knighthood! A Stenciled across his right breast pocket is a name: Verti. On his left breast is a glowing red cross with a one-snake, winged Caduceus, the ancient symbol of his paramedic rank. He turns to lay his helmet aside.

His eyes meet yours and they sparkle with warmth. "Aloha," he churrs brightly, his voice firm and full. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alexsandyr Dimitrovitch Verti, captain of the Imperial Lontran . I serve her Imperial Majesty, Empress Marilynn Jade Featherdawn, as a member of the Imperial Lontran healing specialist."

He stands tall as he says this, his head held high yet eyes level with your own. He's proud of who and what he is, but he's not vain. "I have been in the service of Her Majesty for twelve years now. I have seen many things, done many things."

His eyes take on a hollow quality that cannot be faked. "And I've suffered the agony of defeat, seeing the helpless torn from my grasp to their deaths into the cold of night..."

He remains silent for a moment, painful memories playing in his mind. Then he smiles and the light return to his eyes. "And I've shared tears of joy with families I've brought home safe. Joined my crew in giving voice to the Scream Of Birthing for no fewer than ten emergency deliveries, some of them under circumstances you would never believe..." He chuckles at that, knowing full well you may later ask him about it. And not believe him.

"I guess you could say that I've been around..." he concludes, scratching the fur around the collar of his suit. A twin pair of silver eagles gleam on the sides of the collar; the rank of captain. "The official records can be..." Silent. "Never minds."

He finds a chair and spins it around, spreading his legs and straddling it backwards to allow his tail to dangle off the back. Leaning forward and crossing his arms over the back, he lays his head on his paws and looks at you. "I suppose I should tell you why I'm here, so I shall. It's come to my attention that a good friend of mine is being hurt. I have not seem him for the longest time and due to some... Agreement with a particular person, I can not do that now but, seeing something happen to him again, and seeing that he might very well walks the same path he had did before. That he tried hard enough to get out of that's something which disturbs me greatly." With a sigh, He looks you in the eye. "This friend is Craven."

"I met him, and the company he works with by pure chance, one day..." he begins, laying a finger on his cheek and leaning into it as he recalls that very day. "I was simply hiking along in a particularly deep section of the Great Forest when I found a worn path. Not having anything to do that day or the next, and knowing I could call for assistance should anything pop up, I decided to follow it." He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Perhaps, I should have known better..."

"It was a magical path," he explains, walking his webbed fingers along his arm as he watches you. "I found myself led to his cave, but he was not there at the time. I found no bar to my entrance, and indeed it was a most welcoming threshold from my point of view. Since my host was not at home, I did nothing, touched nothing; merely looked." His fingers tap the back of the chair softly. "Fate it seemed had other ideas, for I found myself drawn to some of the writing?with those I began to see...things..."

He looks at you, his eyes cold and deadly serious. "I'm not going to lie to you," he growls softly. "The things I saw on these record..." He shakes his head slowly. "The Empire would have imprisoned most of the party involved for the least of those atrocities, never mind the rest. And it was even more personal for me, since I knew and loved one of his victims. I only thank God that he brought her back, and turned her to me..."

The feline looks down, his back straight and paws folded somberly before him. "My immediate instinct was to both revile and condemn him to death at the earliest opportunity." His fingers tighten and his shoulder flex beneath his coverall. "But time turn out changing anything."

He pulls out a small box from his breast pocket and shakes out a thin, white stick. Putting it in his mouth, he lights the other end with a simple burning touch spell from the tips of his finger, and takes a long drag while watching your face. He holds it in his lungs for a long moment, a puff of blue smoke curling from his mouth and into his nose. His eyes narrow and he exhales quickly, sending a blast of smoke at your face. He nods at your grimace of distaste, his eyes sparkling with mirth as you might lean back and try to avoid the foul smoke. But if that?s the case, you're wrong. It's not foul, but extremely pleasant and cool.

"Mint," he chortles softly. "You thought it was tobacco, right?" His grin is infectious as he pulls at the mint roll of paper once more. "I learned that while first impressions are usually correct, one must be in front of the person in question. Not viewing them from a distance or a recording." He twirls the cigarette between his fingers. "And even first impressions can be wrong when you have preconceptions."

He flips the ashes into his palm, declining to simply drop them on the floor. "I did some research. Asked around. Got some opinions from those he both befriended and estranged. And when I felt I knew enough, I called on her for a meeting. Face to face."

Taking a last drag, he looks you right in the eye, his gaze sharp and piercing. Those eyes that have seen life and death...watched both drop from his own paws based on his decisions, right or wrong. Not the wisest of eyes, most certainly, but wise enough. He looks away and pinches out the stub, then pops the butt in his mouth to chew on the fragrant mint. Brushing his paws together, he gets up and gathers his helmet.

The meeting apparently over, he turns to you one last time. "The result of that meeting," he chirrups, placing a closed fist over his chest in a formal salute, "is that I have sworn to be his friend. I shall defend him, with every resource I have at my disposal." Keeping his salute and lowering his gaze at you dangerously, you get a strong sense of a targeting.

"With my very life, without fail." he finishes.

The salute drops and his eyes soften as he pulls a pair of heavy gloves from his hip pocket. Pulling them on his paws, they click into the metal ends of the sleeves on his plate. "I found him to be completely changed. A different person, fighting to overcome his past and forge a better future for himself." Then he looks toward the window outside the building.

He chuckles. "Sorry, duty calls..." He places his helmet on his shoulders and seals it home with a metallic "snikt". He slowly turns and heads for the door, but stops at the threshold, leaves and bits of grass blowing in the door from outside.

Turning to face you, he lifts his visor. A tear is falling from his eye as he smiles softly at you. "And if you need any further convincing of my feelings on the matter. We will have another talk... But now I must go. I wish I could stay and do something about it. I know I can help him but..

He sighs, saying nothing more, he snaps the visor down with a flick of his gloved paws and steps outside, closing the door behind him.

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