NEWS
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Sol-Zel stands transfixed at the center of a dim lit room clad in a towel. The walls around him are dull grey and worn out from ill maintenance and torture from harsh sun rays. A small circular window is his only contact to the outside world, allowing draught to blow through unsettling dust from faded translucent panes. In spite of the ghastly conditions, the revolutionary is content with the abode. Thanks to its owner's kindness he had successfully avoided incurring accommodation and quite possibly meal costs prolonging his good will living streak to three days. For now he focuses on preparing for a celebration which is to occur later that evening. Due to his line of work, occasional breaks were welcomed sight as the demands of duty held heft rewards, promises of glory and the looming uncertainty of detainment or worse yet death. Once he is done preparing he sifts through a knapsack and settles for an plain white tee and some wide crotch khaki’s that ran down to his calves. Impressed with the aesthetics the dapper choices bestowed him, he takes a quick glance around the sad room, grabbing Go-Seong before stepping out. While he'd preferred the presence of his own company, his environment was to stuffy for his liking. He'd also convinced himself it wouldn't hurt to carry stroll around town and get to know the local sights.
Unbeknownst to him quite some time has passed since he last arrived and got settled at the inn. The sun is now on its last league clinging desperately as the night encroached. Sol made his way down a flight of stairs before coming onto a street devoid of human life. All along it is mostly closed shops and only the stray cats and the flickering street light provide a sense of company. The inn's owner and his daughter had left as he was undergoing preparations but luckily his patrons had been thoughtful enough to leave him travelling directions to the party venue. Thanks to the city’s design and his impeccable observation it doesn’t take much effort to follow through. His stroll comes to a conclusive end when he takes a right and is thrust to the west of town. Contrasting the barren East, this region is filled with stalls from exorbitantly jubilant merchants, street performers, arcade games & food stalls that ooze the aromatic flavor of roast meat & conch of beer. Beautiful origami lanterns, in the shape of dragons don the above illuminating the ground below. The area is lively as men and women mingle engaging in merry and cheeky banter some feeling both daring and romantic as they kissed their respective other. Initially soft oriental music that best captured the tune of the desert is played by a single orchestra positioned on an elevated platform.
Sharing the same stage are several dances all whom appear to be women dressed in colorful sashes of red, yellow and light green. On their person are small garments that are nothing more than sheets that cover their busty bosoms, hips with a slender curvature that gives them a sense of ripe femininity. The music group’s leader, softly caressed her harp producing the sweet serenade that mellows the attendees drawing them to the uniform pattern of the dancers. Their steps swaying them gracefully like dainty flower scattered on a plain that billows with the wind known as rhythm. The pace soon picks up as a drummer intervenes banging on his gargantuan drums with progressive blows & a bass so strong its intense shrieks echo through bone. Sol was never one to dance & today was no different as he limbers around in random yet strangely satisfying fashion to avoid the dancing public. The music’s passion electrifies the town’s folk engrossing them into an apocalyptic rendition of a shamanistic dance. Two rounds into the marathon Sol-Zel still struggled to find an opening through the crowd. With his body soaked in sweat and throat dried to his core, he saw it best to dabble in the region's drink selection and if his luck was kept at bay he would get to try their famed condiments: easier said than done.
The impregnated streets offer very little room for swift movement as drunks and ravers in deep trances occupy every possible section. This inconvenience soon comes to pass as the groggy Sol-Zel pushes himself past one more hurdle and ducks into a nearby baristo. “Can I get a drink! Anything cold and non alcoholic,” he firmly blurted orders feeling a sense of respite at the coolness blowing against his skin. The attendant, a man whose robust firm body plastered against his line shirt danced his way to him and leans over revealing an erratic beard on a well chiseled faced. “Sure thing sire.” A minute two at the most pass before he returns with mugs brimming with an air bubbles that slid down their silver sides. “Here you go sire and have some peanuts, on the house.” he gushed winking at the Bakasura. “If I was of half a mind I’d think you’re hitting on me,” Sol-Zel muttered. “Arara, maybe I am, maybe I am not” “You flatter me. However, there are where Sol-Zel's ship won’t sail.” The bartender burst into laughter as Sol-Zel gulped down his beverage. The man had taken the bait, it was time to pry more information out of him. “The town has quite the spirit.” “An outsider?” “Yes. I am another adventurer out chasing dreams” “That’s the spirit of youth. You know I think I have seen your before” “Hmmph. Where? If I may ask” “A bounty poster” Sol-Zel paused to smile before resuming his drink. “Relax boy. I am not one to judge. Besides, the world needs more your kind.” “I don't follow”
“Well, let just say you travel the world and you see its masquerading joy for pity, even in this town there are bad seeds” “Care to tell me more?” “Working this business you get to mingle with the wrong crowd more than you’d like.” “and you'd presume I am the right crowd?” “All I know is that.......” The speech was cut short by the violent shouts originating outside the store. A number of women were pushed back as a man pleads amidst what sounded like the destruction of a stall. From the scuffle another man is kicked back as a group of men & women emerge from the mess. One is openly brandishing a gun and waving it about at the scared crowd. Following close behind was a larger man on either side of him are a woman, twins no doubt, covered in tattoos and piercings. The goons band together and sit at a table to Sol-Zels right. As if their ruckus and unpleasant nature was not off putting and bad enough the group begins a tirade of ego stroking. “Ya know ya the most wanted man in town. Hell I’d bet no one in South Blue has a higher bounty than ya” the tallest and dim witted of them all chimed. “Yes Drayden I bet you’re the top of every bounty hunter list. Mmmm if I was one I’d capture you and retire.” a second added.
Their captain reveled in praise but begun making one mistake the other. “Oi server, what you waiting for! Come service us this instance. Do you not know I am the future Pirate King?” One. “I don’t care if you abuse me but you are scaring MY customers so I’ll politely ask you to leave.” Taking offense the man strips the gun of his lackey and pointed it at the bartender intent on killing him. Two. Drayden grinned menacingly as he cocked back the safe and just as he pulls the trigger a bowl comes flying towards his hand hitting it off to the right. A gunshot rings and succeeded by the high pitched crash of bottles in a liquor cabinet. Following the bowl’s trajectory to its source the bandits come to the sight of a man calmly drinking. Piecing two and two together the men rush to him and encase him in the semi-circle. “You going to apologize for that?” Feigning ignorance Sol-Zel maintained his composure as he drowned himself in refreshments each sip irritating the ruffians. Coming to terms with the fact that his order was falling on deaf ears, Drayden looked around his group before nodding in approval. Once he has guaranteed the uniformity of his reinforcements the leader steps forward getting close enough to breathe down on Sol-Zel's neck. He extends his arms placing the thick link of sausage like fingers on Muldjewangk's neck “Why don’t you show some respect before I gut you like the fish you are.” Three.
Unbeknownst to him quite some time has passed since he last arrived and got settled at the inn. The sun is now on its last league clinging desperately as the night encroached. Sol made his way down a flight of stairs before coming onto a street devoid of human life. All along it is mostly closed shops and only the stray cats and the flickering street light provide a sense of company. The inn's owner and his daughter had left as he was undergoing preparations but luckily his patrons had been thoughtful enough to leave him travelling directions to the party venue. Thanks to the city’s design and his impeccable observation it doesn’t take much effort to follow through. His stroll comes to a conclusive end when he takes a right and is thrust to the west of town. Contrasting the barren East, this region is filled with stalls from exorbitantly jubilant merchants, street performers, arcade games & food stalls that ooze the aromatic flavor of roast meat & conch of beer. Beautiful origami lanterns, in the shape of dragons don the above illuminating the ground below. The area is lively as men and women mingle engaging in merry and cheeky banter some feeling both daring and romantic as they kissed their respective other. Initially soft oriental music that best captured the tune of the desert is played by a single orchestra positioned on an elevated platform.
Sharing the same stage are several dances all whom appear to be women dressed in colorful sashes of red, yellow and light green. On their person are small garments that are nothing more than sheets that cover their busty bosoms, hips with a slender curvature that gives them a sense of ripe femininity. The music group’s leader, softly caressed her harp producing the sweet serenade that mellows the attendees drawing them to the uniform pattern of the dancers. Their steps swaying them gracefully like dainty flower scattered on a plain that billows with the wind known as rhythm. The pace soon picks up as a drummer intervenes banging on his gargantuan drums with progressive blows & a bass so strong its intense shrieks echo through bone. Sol was never one to dance & today was no different as he limbers around in random yet strangely satisfying fashion to avoid the dancing public. The music’s passion electrifies the town’s folk engrossing them into an apocalyptic rendition of a shamanistic dance. Two rounds into the marathon Sol-Zel still struggled to find an opening through the crowd. With his body soaked in sweat and throat dried to his core, he saw it best to dabble in the region's drink selection and if his luck was kept at bay he would get to try their famed condiments: easier said than done.
The impregnated streets offer very little room for swift movement as drunks and ravers in deep trances occupy every possible section. This inconvenience soon comes to pass as the groggy Sol-Zel pushes himself past one more hurdle and ducks into a nearby baristo. “Can I get a drink! Anything cold and non alcoholic,” he firmly blurted orders feeling a sense of respite at the coolness blowing against his skin. The attendant, a man whose robust firm body plastered against his line shirt danced his way to him and leans over revealing an erratic beard on a well chiseled faced. “Sure thing sire.” A minute two at the most pass before he returns with mugs brimming with an air bubbles that slid down their silver sides. “Here you go sire and have some peanuts, on the house.” he gushed winking at the Bakasura. “If I was of half a mind I’d think you’re hitting on me,” Sol-Zel muttered. “Arara, maybe I am, maybe I am not” “You flatter me. However, there are where Sol-Zel's ship won’t sail.” The bartender burst into laughter as Sol-Zel gulped down his beverage. The man had taken the bait, it was time to pry more information out of him. “The town has quite the spirit.” “An outsider?” “Yes. I am another adventurer out chasing dreams” “That’s the spirit of youth. You know I think I have seen your before” “Hmmph. Where? If I may ask” “A bounty poster” Sol-Zel paused to smile before resuming his drink. “Relax boy. I am not one to judge. Besides, the world needs more your kind.” “I don't follow”
“Well, let just say you travel the world and you see its masquerading joy for pity, even in this town there are bad seeds” “Care to tell me more?” “Working this business you get to mingle with the wrong crowd more than you’d like.” “and you'd presume I am the right crowd?” “All I know is that.......” The speech was cut short by the violent shouts originating outside the store. A number of women were pushed back as a man pleads amidst what sounded like the destruction of a stall. From the scuffle another man is kicked back as a group of men & women emerge from the mess. One is openly brandishing a gun and waving it about at the scared crowd. Following close behind was a larger man on either side of him are a woman, twins no doubt, covered in tattoos and piercings. The goons band together and sit at a table to Sol-Zels right. As if their ruckus and unpleasant nature was not off putting and bad enough the group begins a tirade of ego stroking. “Ya know ya the most wanted man in town. Hell I’d bet no one in South Blue has a higher bounty than ya” the tallest and dim witted of them all chimed. “Yes Drayden I bet you’re the top of every bounty hunter list. Mmmm if I was one I’d capture you and retire.” a second added.
Their captain reveled in praise but begun making one mistake the other. “Oi server, what you waiting for! Come service us this instance. Do you not know I am the future Pirate King?” One. “I don’t care if you abuse me but you are scaring MY customers so I’ll politely ask you to leave.” Taking offense the man strips the gun of his lackey and pointed it at the bartender intent on killing him. Two. Drayden grinned menacingly as he cocked back the safe and just as he pulls the trigger a bowl comes flying towards his hand hitting it off to the right. A gunshot rings and succeeded by the high pitched crash of bottles in a liquor cabinet. Following the bowl’s trajectory to its source the bandits come to the sight of a man calmly drinking. Piecing two and two together the men rush to him and encase him in the semi-circle. “You going to apologize for that?” Feigning ignorance Sol-Zel maintained his composure as he drowned himself in refreshments each sip irritating the ruffians. Coming to terms with the fact that his order was falling on deaf ears, Drayden looked around his group before nodding in approval. Once he has guaranteed the uniformity of his reinforcements the leader steps forward getting close enough to breathe down on Sol-Zel's neck. He extends his arms placing the thick link of sausage like fingers on Muldjewangk's neck “Why don’t you show some respect before I gut you like the fish you are.” Three.