[center][b]Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest[/b][/center]

When Makul and Veyati had parted ways, Veyati finally felt like she could at least smuggle a few morsels here and there under her mask while no one was looking. She immediately made note of something. 'When traveling to new lands, [i]always[/i] try to the food'. The chances of something you've never had before being tasty were apparently quite high.

Their dancing was... a bit different. An interesting kind of different, but it flowed along with the music just like she expected. Never having been to what would have obviously been a masquerade ball to others, she took her time to watch first and maybe join later. The time she spent quietly observing was also spent sketching scenes from memory. It was difficult for her to muster the courage to join in when she still felt so out of place. She tried to convince herself that some gestures didn't mean the same thing to them. How could they? Maybe she would try but... not today. Unfortunate, because it meant turning down a man's request to dance with her, but the night stayed interesting nevertheless.

The duration of the party seemed endless to Veyati. Even as the hours passed and the foods began to dwindle in numbers, yet still some few individuals remained, seemingly possessing of an inexhaustible dialogue. They were either drunk or had so little to do afterwards that the prospect of returning home was inconceivable. Veyati certainly got the picture, however, and was tiring of the lessening value in each conversation the party-goers initiated. She opted to return to the comfort of her bed.

Deep in the darkest hours of night, all had returned to their own homes, and the lanterns within them had since been extinguished. Veyati found herself in the deepest of dark, graced only by the merest lights of the stars above. She was offered a lantern by Makul, but it was refused. Makul gave a farewell at that, but not without a strange look.

For Veyati, traveling through the dark was without worry. She went upon her way back down the stairwell, through the town, along the docks, and back to the cobble path leading to her ship in the hills beyond. It would have been unimpeded, were it not for a peculiar little appearance in the corner of her vision...

Without a straight look upon its position, it might have appeared as a collection of rags blowing in the wind, tattered and hooked around a stone of some sort. At first it was of no interest to Veyati. Then it began to move, keeping pace with her stride. She made an abrupt stop in her path, pivoting on one foot to face the phantom in the dark. As if linked, the object too halted its advance, still to her side and several dozen feet away. Now that Veyati was staring directly at it, she could see what it for what it was.

A human-shaped collection of encircling rags, conforming to an unseen body underneath. The strips of cloth wound around and around, taking the shape of two arms, a torso, and a head. Its head was the most bound, with only a sliver of space where its eyes should be, once more revealing nothing but empty air. Only its legs were lacking, the rags falling into a collection of loops and waving ribbons beneath itself. It appeared, then, to be floating in midair.

The phantom returned her stare, silently, and kept its arms at its sides, the tight cloth clenching and relaxing around its invisible fists, as if in anticipation.

Veyati tilted her head at it. Her mask gave only a stoic expression, but beneath the mask she was [i]elated[/i] to see something so strange. Truly, how peculiar! A floating aberration was staring back at her. She'd barely been here for two days, and already she'd found one of the 'dark rumors' to be true. There [i]were[/i] night creatures on Garude... but, something was off. The air was tense. What did it want with her? Better yet... why was it following from so far away? She decided to speak up.

"How long have you been following me, phantom?" she asked it.

"Long enough," stated a gruff, breathy voice, but it did not come from the phantom she faced, but from behind. Veyati twirled around and was immediately confronted by another phantom. Though invisible and layered with bandages, it was dressed in a slightly different fashion, bearing a woven poncho of some sort. It had its hand raised, bearing a glimmering knife within it. Intense focus replaced her smile. A swaying step to the side took her just out of the way of a brutal stab, then she crouched down and slid further on the damp grass just in time to watch a wide follow up swing skim over her hood. The phantom let out a grunt of confusion, which soon turned to a hollow growl as it spun to face her. Its arm raised to ready for another wild stab, but stopped short. She wasn't where he expected her to be. The light and soft tone that greeted the phantom at first changed to something harsh and feral. She was at it's side, with her gloved fist already drawn back. Then, she lunged at the phantom with a flying fist.

"[i]Hasag![/i]" her voice boomed. Her first struck true and landed a crushing blow right in its ribs.

The phantom was sent reeling so hard that the knife flew out of its grasp and sailed off in an arc. It flailed as it tried to steady itself and face Veyati but, as it tried to pull itself straight again, it found Veyati shouting and smashing into it again. A flying knee under the chin sent it reeling once more, but this time with Veyati to follow through and bring it into the ground with her knee on it's neck and her other leg on its chest, now wielding her own knife against it. In a swift and fluid motion, she slashed at the phantom's face and buried her blade in the side of its head.

The phantom choked and twitched, it's arms jerking forward for barely a second before they unraveled and dropped to the ground. The wrapping slid limply off of Veyati's knife as she rose to her feet, hand clenched over the handle.

The phantom from across the hills was already charging. It must have only just started its approach when it saw that its comrade was in trouble, if only all too late. The couple dozen feet spread between them grew smaller as it closed in. Veyati stood vigilant, brandishing her knife, but as the phantom floated over the cobblestone path she heard a faint whistling noise. There was a glimpse of a swift projectile tearing into the phantom's sheets.

As if walking into the air, the ghost rose for a moment before disappearing, leaving its body of cloth wrappings to fall in a crumpled heap on the path. Veyati's eyes darted toward the origin of the arrow, fierce and focused. She looked upon a figure covered head to toe in crimson armor. In its hands a bow was held at the ready, its arrow already loosed and the target fallen. The figure lowered its arms and stared at the area of the ghost, as if ensuring it had truly been vanquished, before turning to meet Veyati's gaze.

"You are the woman from the party, no?" It was a vague question given how many women were present at the gathering, but his surety seemed to indicate that she was the one in the end.

Veyati's grip on the knife loosened. Her expression softened, and her posture relaxed. It wasn't an immediately familiar voice, but his gesture wasn't to be ignored. "I... suppose I am?" she said in a questioning tone, slightly tilting her head. Without hesitation, the man approached Veyati, having slung his bow along the backside of his hips. The smoothness with which he did so, his steady, powerful gait, and the sheer quality to his armor indicated he was no town guard, or even a mere soldier at that. With just a few feet between them, he spoke.

"Veyati? I am Sir Iroas of the Waether Empire. I couldn't help but notice your presence during the party earlier," he began. His voice was gravelly, old, but more in the sense of weariness rather than age. He bowed before placing his hand upon the pommel of his sword, and Veyati bowed back to him as seemed customary for her. "If I may, I would love to have a few words with you," he looked about the scene cautiously, "Preferably in private."

Veyati blinked at him, then looked up and down the road and into the dark grass. His wording brought up questions. The mention of Waether brought up more questions. The outside wasn't as private as it should've been, apparently. She shared his caution, since she had just been assailed by some sort of phantom. "Walk with me," she said, gesturing with the knife still in her hands, "But... leave another arrow by this phantom." Iroas complied without question or hesitation, taking out an arrow before throwing as deftly as a knife into the dirt where the former ghost's clothing remained.