Sham
Inactive Member
Soruk had practiced and played on their trip back, learning much about his instrument and the sounds it could make through his intense focus. The crew wouldn't see much of the blademaster, unless they had caught him eating every now and again or had come to listen in the cargo bay, though not seeing him wasn't unusual in the slightest. He had received a reply from his clan relatively quickly, granting his request. A ship would be arriving at about the same time the Crimson Kestrel pulled into port or at the very least, a day or two after. Very unlike the quiet gartagen, he was rather anxious to meet some of his clanmates, a welcome taste of home after being surrounded by people he didn't know and for some, didn't like.
When he heard Luca's call over the PA, he was busy working on another engraving on his knives. He didn't pay much mind to when they were going to arrive, the gartagen was patient and they would get there when they did. He couldn't deny that he was a little happy that they had arrived though. Soruk tucked his knives away, each one finding their respective sheath with a little help.
However, the blademaster didn't tug his normal cloak on and work his way out of the ship, instead opening his bags to pull out a different cloak. It was the more 'traditional' cloak of his clan, primarily white with black as a secondary color, rather than his normal black with white secondary. The deep red was still accenting the wear. The blademaster was free to wear his modified cloak wherever he pleased, but his clan was rather strict on what they wore when meeting and would prefer if he wore the traditional one. They had made it so much a point to include it as a footnote in their message back. Apparently they were very displeased with his last meeting at home.
After latching the last clasp and tugging on the white fabric, the blademaster started sheathing his weapons in their proper places. Just like his clan liked meeting to be done with their traditional wear, clan members were to have any weapons they would have on person during a battle. Weapons and the detail put into them were a sort of statement with the Clan of Blades. A masterpiece said much of the wielder, as all members were expected to fight and forge on equal levels for the most part.
Of course, Soruk didn't have the most impressive weapons, in the sense of being able to see them. If anyone had inspected his small blades and tools, they would find small, hidden masterpieces. It led to internal pride from the gartagen and usually mocking gestures from his clan mates that didn't know him very well or from opposing families.
Feeling that he was presentable, he started working his way towards the cargo bay, hopping out of a vent and landing neatly on a crate below. Looking out of the cargo bay onto the city called 'Sargasso'. It looked pretty down-trodden but nothing close to the crowded, polluted, super-cities of Gartaga. His clan didn't live anywhere near the supercities, their keep nestled at the base of a lone mountain, surrounded by a dusty desert. Sargasso would have to do. He slowly walked down the ramp, gazing around, taking in the sight of the beach, the Nepleslian skyline, and the mountains in the distance.
"Not bad." He mused to himself. It was far more pleasing then arriving at one of his own planet's cities. He spotted the ship they had saved from the pirates, the... Fruna Ruica . He made a mental note to stay as far as possible from the place. There were some strange people aboard that ship. He scanned a bit further down the road and found what he sought a good distance away from the hub of activity that was the cruise ship. A small gartagen ship had landed, a few white-cloaked figures milling about around it. One group was starting to spar. The sight of it warmed the blademaster's heart a little. It felt like home just seeing that.
When he heard Luca's call over the PA, he was busy working on another engraving on his knives. He didn't pay much mind to when they were going to arrive, the gartagen was patient and they would get there when they did. He couldn't deny that he was a little happy that they had arrived though. Soruk tucked his knives away, each one finding their respective sheath with a little help.
However, the blademaster didn't tug his normal cloak on and work his way out of the ship, instead opening his bags to pull out a different cloak. It was the more 'traditional' cloak of his clan, primarily white with black as a secondary color, rather than his normal black with white secondary. The deep red was still accenting the wear. The blademaster was free to wear his modified cloak wherever he pleased, but his clan was rather strict on what they wore when meeting and would prefer if he wore the traditional one. They had made it so much a point to include it as a footnote in their message back. Apparently they were very displeased with his last meeting at home.
After latching the last clasp and tugging on the white fabric, the blademaster started sheathing his weapons in their proper places. Just like his clan liked meeting to be done with their traditional wear, clan members were to have any weapons they would have on person during a battle. Weapons and the detail put into them were a sort of statement with the Clan of Blades. A masterpiece said much of the wielder, as all members were expected to fight and forge on equal levels for the most part.
Of course, Soruk didn't have the most impressive weapons, in the sense of being able to see them. If anyone had inspected his small blades and tools, they would find small, hidden masterpieces. It led to internal pride from the gartagen and usually mocking gestures from his clan mates that didn't know him very well or from opposing families.
Feeling that he was presentable, he started working his way towards the cargo bay, hopping out of a vent and landing neatly on a crate below. Looking out of the cargo bay onto the city called 'Sargasso'. It looked pretty down-trodden but nothing close to the crowded, polluted, super-cities of Gartaga. His clan didn't live anywhere near the supercities, their keep nestled at the base of a lone mountain, surrounded by a dusty desert. Sargasso would have to do. He slowly walked down the ramp, gazing around, taking in the sight of the beach, the Nepleslian skyline, and the mountains in the distance.
"Not bad." He mused to himself. It was far more pleasing then arriving at one of his own planet's cities. He spotted the ship they had saved from the pirates, the... Fruna Ruica . He made a mental note to stay as far as possible from the place. There were some strange people aboard that ship. He scanned a bit further down the road and found what he sought a good distance away from the hub of activity that was the cruise ship. A small gartagen ship had landed, a few white-cloaked figures milling about around it. One group was starting to spar. The sight of it warmed the blademaster's heart a little. It felt like home just seeing that.