- RP Date
- YE 41, One Day After The Fleet Betrayal
- RP Location
- TFS Saweya's Light
A tool cabin in the bowels of the ship. The gravity and lighting was more poorly maintained the further you went downwards into the structure, which by this location meant that all of the tools had developed a slight uncanny swinging motion upon their hooks. The oily smell was also less than pleasant.
Every now and then, a dull thud emanated from one of the small upright lockers. Contained within was said to be the tech-thrall that one of the purges had brought back with them, kept separate from the others due to unsettling rumours of witchhood and foul heresy.
There was also the little fact that investigations had lead to the conclusion that their previous masters had died in a ‘rather convenient accident’... Even if those masters were traitors to her grace, and the purge’s enemies, it seemed nobody quite knew what to do with the Tsumi refuse here and now…
A lone individual strolled into the workshop, if you could even call it that. The shorter Tsumi had been tipped off about the events which had unfolded here, along with the prospect of something still living here. “Hello hello, is the one I’ve heard so much about down here somewhere?” Jay called out as he wandered, tapping his hand on a few benchtops while looking around. He’d heard the banging and bumping before but wanted to see if they would respond.
The movement actually stopped when the warrior had entered, no doubt a sign of caution towards such a polite tone emanating from such a heavy, obviously seasoned voice.
Only after another moment’s silence did a muffled murmuring tone respond, along with a slight bowing outwards of the thin metal door. It was kind of obvious which one was the right one, since it had a small padlock holding it closed. If one was to look through the ventilation slits, at a slightly toward angle, a pair of pale blue eyes could be observed to stare back outwards.
Jay noticed the door and gave a toothy grin, moving over to get a better look the eyes also came into view. “Well well, who do we have here? You look trapped. Shall I let you out?” The Tsumi spoke almost sweetly despite his obvious nature as a warrior, smiling through the gaps back at the captive. So far Jay was finding it hard to believe this timid creature had slain the heretics residing down here.
“...Swyhhh-blynnn-srhmmm.” A slightly louder muffled noise. The silence may have not been such an active choice, by the sounds of it. Then again, how did a person in their position really know what they were getting into? Jaytorr might have known about his strong religious honour, but they sure didn’t.
The metal popping sound happened again, and this time, the enclosed person seemed to close their eyes. Was the noise of the indentation… Moving?... They were drawing something on the inside of the door.
“Ah so someone locked you up did they, sounds like you have something over your mouth at least.” The short warrior listened on for a little longer as the scraping on the door continued, as intriguing as it was he wouldn’t be able to see it lest he open the door, which was the conclusion he settled on. Raising one of his axes high, Jay brought the strong handle butt down on the lock, snapping the pathetic device before removing it from the latch. Though he didn’t open the door yet. “If you can still move, the door is unlocked, and I would so dearly like to meet the thrall behind the massacre.”
-The door immediately swung open, erupting with a sudden blur of motion. The creature inside had been chained up in some capacity, but had apparently broke half-free at some point, swinging the bracket that was supposed to be attached to the back wall behind them around by the very links that still bound the upper two wrists. A mess of rangs, talismanic bones, beige spouting hair and a mad assortment of twine and beads, it simply made a loud grunting noise whilst rapidly attempting to bring the sharp metal object down on Jaytorr’s head.
Most Tsumi would have been much too big, but unfortunately for the priest, he was only about two foot taller than their wild and desperate attacker. There was also a really grim metallic smell already. Why was that so familiar?...
When the captive flew out at him Jaytorr’s instincts kicked in, moving his head to the left was all he could manage before the object plunged into his shoulder. With a grunt of pain he grabbed the wild creature by the throat with one hand and held them at arms length while dislodging the metal with another hand. “Now that’s not very nice is it, I just wanted to come see what had everyone riled up down here.” Though he still spoke calmly he wasn’t letting go, out of his own safety.
The aggressive grunting quickling turned to a choking sound after this, with the witch completely out of room to breath between a metal collar, a balled cloth gag, and Jaytorr’s large hand. Obvious panic consumed their angular eyes, feet not quite able to reach the floor, nor bound arms able to raise themselves high enough to do anything about the attacker.
He had time to appreciate the smell now; It was blood, emanating from both the witches’ cut red hands, and the disturbing sigil markings that completely plastered the inside of the now-open locker door. Not too different from the heretic symbols on their face and thigh.
“...lmmm-ghmmm-plhmmm!...Lhmmm-hhhhh-plhmmm!…” The voice just made random sounds urgently now. It was the look of someone who really knew they didn’t stand a chance in a straight fight.
Jaytorr hadn’t come to fight as his sole intention which meant it was his captives lucky day, with his free hand he tore the gag from their mouth. “How’s that, little easier to breathe?” His mouth curled up in a disturbing grin as he released some of the pressure on their neck, it seemed they knew who was in control now. His eyes traveled over the marked walls of the locker as well as the symbols on the small gross creature he was holding. The Tsumi’s expression changed very quickly to a frown as he leant in a little closer to study their face, waiting for them to make the first move.
The creature squirmed for a moment and remembered how to talk, delirious expression fit for someone who had been locked in a box for several hours. Eventually the intimidation got the better of them, and they averted their eyes down into the floor.
“...K-K-Kmza was not choose to go on cursed ship! Please do not y-you breaking w-w-wan good horn!” Stumbling, raspy words. A very low-class accent from somebody missing several teeth. “H-Hay-den chooses us n-not to be split open, he does! Kmza does not choose!... Sorry I does hurt, but K-Kmza d-does not choose!”
“...I does not know what gods chooses…” More mumbling squirming sounds, fixing their jumper as well as the small wooden bone-relic affixed to the right thigh. This was a very poor attempt at making themselves look ‘proper’, so that their blood-stained hands could arrange themselves in a Saweyan prayer formation. “...If gods is c-chooses.... I d-does s-serve new masters, then... K-Kmza does w-what must...”
Jaytorr regarded this thrall for a moment with a look akin to disgust, they dare mutter the name of one other than the Sovereign. Though the the same time, it, she? Apparently was open to serving the correct god, and they even tried their best to tidy up for him, how sweet. “No one can know for certain what choices her mighty Sovereign has made for us, but we can follow them with all our being.” The warrior spoke, slowly placing Kmza on the floor and inspecting the cuffs they still wore. “I shan’t kill you, not yet anyway for I do not believe it is my destiny to end your life here and now. Can you free yourself?” While question was simple enough their response would give him an idea on the pride and ability of this creature, and so he watched.
Kmza shot a look upwards, and then down back at their cuffs, surprised by the question. Would they get in trouble for actually doing it, or was this a test of their usefulness?... They did at least agree that it was impossible to know what the gods had actually chosen for them.
The chains binding their lower arms behind their back were not too hard to escape from. Mostly because their lower left arm was a false prosthetic, and without being crammed into the locker, they had room to simply pop it off of their wrist.
Upper arms were a bit more difficult, causing a few gasps of pain whilst they twisted the metal bands, trying to find a structural weakness. Soon enough they took a long animal bone out from one of the random bundles affixed to them, and wedged in between the central chain link. Bending it between their teeth and their lower right hand, this allowed them to separate their upper hands in pretty much no time, albeit with the cuffs still hanging from them.
“Kmza is mech-an-eek.” A small declaration, still not looking the large and intimidating warrior in the eye. “This is how I does live. Kmza does the useful machine for masthar… m-masthars…”
“You… You beleff in our god’s will also, sah?...” Another remark, clutching a very crude sun-and-star medallion that they had around one of their many limbs. “You does severe the Sa-way-yun church you does, sah?”
Jaytorr watched the smaller creature slowly but surely escape their bonds, quite an interesting display judging by the way his smirk returned over time. “So you go by Kmza, Kmza the tech thrall huh.” He said to himself before the question brought him back. “That’s right, I worship her lord Sovereign and the church, I go by Jaytorr.”
Kmza still seemed a little confused by somebody actually talking to them. Their mouth hung slightly agape and their eyes risked looking upwards, opening wide to observe the large battlescared figure proclaiming his dedication to the one true path of the Tsumi.
Backlit by the flickering lights of the cabin, and seeming to project the aura of someone much more than just a career warrior, the tech-thrall was momentarily taken over by this unseen glow. They looked indestructable to her.
“...T’is not what the d-darkness brings, but... tha small offur-ing of light, paid for in each strike…” A humble tone. “...T-hat g-gives back sight to the blind...”
It was a quote from one of the very oldest Saweyan books. They felt in their soul a forgotten feeling, the calmly flowing waters of the ocean, now forever gone.
Was this what had been intended, all along?
“Has you use for a thrall such as Kmza, Jay-tor sah?”
“I am pleased that you know your scriptures, and I know that her lord would be pleased as well. I believe that it was foretold for you to cross my path, for I shall deliver you your purpose as our lady Sovereign proclaims.” Jay spread his arms out wide as he proclaimed his decision.
“You shall serve the same purge that I proudly fight for, the skills you have been blessed with may not be for combat, but everyone is given a purpose if they follow the teachings. Your black fingers shall ensure our continued victory in battle, maintaining our weapons is a noble duty.”
“...I-If gods wills it, Kmza will hone you tools so that enemies is split open, rightly…” A mixture of awe and fear in their voice. It was good not to be completely without a master, and be easy prey to anyone who disagreed with them. But it was also quite a burden, wondering if they would live up to what this priest had envisioned in them. “My hands is yours, Lort Jay-tur.”
A slight crawling of the skin, reminded of their savagely aching feet, and risking a quick look back to their former place of confinement. They didn’t want to speak out of turn. The blood on the floor reminded her that she did just try to kill him, too.
“Is Kmza taken out of this p-place? F-f-following you back to yur holy lodgin’s?”
“For the time being, yes, however now that you pledge your service to myself and the purge it is my responsibility to discipline you. To ensure you stay true to the Sovereign.” Without a pause the warrior backhanded the shorter girl, not enough to leave permanent damage but still a strong hit nonetheless. “That was for attacking me, thank her grace that I was in a good mood.” He said sternly before turning to leave, expecting them to follow.
Kmza didn’t say anything, merely wincing for a moment as their face swelled, and then checking the continued stability of their precious singular horn. It really could have been a lot worse.
Internally thanking the gods, and externally keeping their hands in a prayer position. They nabbed a tool satchel from one of the racks and put it around their torso, then followed in haste.
It was time to truly dedicate themselves to the gods’ unflinching work. The world still had much foul spiritual corruption and self-service to attend to, and Kmza was optimistic that Jaytorr would give them the opportunity to combat that.
This was the beginning of something special.