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 Nyarai Khartuul
Nyarai Khartuul
Posted: Apr 21 2011, 06:29 AM

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Group: Members
Posts: 281
Member No.: 11
Joined: 21-April 11

Nyarai Khartuul

user posted image

23 | Refugee | Maid

the sketch.

Height: 5'11
Weight: 140lbs
Build: Slender and tall without being lanky.
Eyes: Dark Brown
Hair: Black, falls past her shoulders
Other: She has a few tattoos on her skin: a bird on her right shoulder; a pattern of knots on her ribcage; and a small circle on her right wrist.

Skills. Personality. Quirks.
  • A recent arrival to Escova. She's only been in the country for about three years. Ask her where she comes from and she'll tell you that it's far away and that it doesn't matter. She won't say much more.
  • Is unfamiliar with the culture of the land and its language. She speaks with a pronounced accent but she is getting better.
  • Cleans houses for a living. She's freelance and spends her day travelling from client to client, cleaning and doing laundry. From time to time, she will also take up jobs as a nanny. Most of her work takes place within the Refugee's Quarter (well, the part of the quarter that is slightly better off), but she will sometimes venture into the other parts of the city for work as well.
  • Sleeps with men from time to time for coin. Has a few regulars, but doesn't consider herself a whore. Actually, she doesn't think about it at all-- or tries not to.
  • Not very talkative, but not shy and timid either. Can come across as haughty and indifferent to those who don't know her well.
  • Has a temper that reveals itself in many different ways.
the story.
She looked at the lifeless body in front of her. It was pale and unmoving. Its mouth was open, and its dead eyes were staring at nothing and everything all at once.


A hand gripped her upper arm, tugging her back. Unfeeling, unresponsive, Nyarai let the force pull her along. It pulled her away from the corpse. It pulled her away from him. Her heels struck the dusty ground as she was led away and taken to the shade. As the light gave way to darkness, she was pulled downward, until she was sitting under  large tree. Immediately, her dark eyes fell her lap.

“Nyarai.” The force was shaking her arm now, drawing her attention.

She didn’t look up. She continued to stare into her lap, in her hands folded there.

There had been tears before. There had been wailing, crying. She’d pounded her fists into the earth and beat her chest when the news came. He was dead. He’d been taken away from her. Screams had come unbound from her throat, shaking her as the came.

But now. Now she was silent.

Next to her, the dark, imposing form of her mother continued to shake her. “Nyarai we must keep moving.” Though she did not look at her mother, Nyarai knew the fear in her mother’s eyes. They had to keep moving. If they stopped, the horde would come. If they stopped, she would join him in the grave the men were about to dig for him...

The journey to Escova was long, cold, and miserable. She did not know she hated ships until she was actually on one. Now she hated them. She hated the way they moved, the smells that came from them. She hated the sailors. They were foul-mouthed and unwashed, and there was a cruel set to their lips she couldn’t stand.

The ship had sailed through stormy weather and clear skies. She was told that Escova wasn’t far-- that the temporary home they’d chosen would arrive soon. 

She waited.

But she was far from patient.

He was smiling at her.

“I thought you cleaned houses.”

“I do.”

He stepped away from the bed and reached for his trousers. Pulling these on, he plucked up his shirt and slid it too. “So...why do you do this?” He wasn’t looking at her. He didn’t even care really. Pointless conversations were always the most inane. Nyarai wondered why he had to ask. Was it an obligation on his part? Something to clear the weighty silence?

She pushed herself into a seated position. Crossing her legs under her, she gave him a flat, unfriendly look.

“Ah,” he said, thinking better of his question. “Sorry.” He reached for his purse and snapped it open. Reaching two fingers into it, he pulled out a handful of coins and dropped them on the bedside table. The copper shone like gold in the sparse light, and for a second she felt content to see it.

He looked at her. “You know...”

“Thank you,” she said, quietly but firmly. Her eyes met his, and then they travelled to the door. She hoped it was enough of a gesture for him to leave.

He nodded and began to move. With a final, fleeting look her way, he brushed past the bed and out the door.

With a sigh, she reached over to the coins, plucked them from the table and stashed them into her own purse. Then she rose gingerly off the bed and made her way towards the nearby wash-closet. She was tired and she was worn out, but she couldn’t sleep until she’d bathed. She couldn't sleep until she’d washed the smell of him off her. 

OOC Connections.

PB claim: Emanuela dePaula
Player name: uzair
Contact info: banana phone.
The Seer
Posted: Apr 21 2011, 01:13 PM

Advanced Member

Group: Admin
Posts: 158
Member No.: 4
Joined: 16-April 11

"Escape," the blind man sighed heavily. "Your legs may never weaken, but what will you do when you meet a wall without a doorway? You cannot know where every road ends, and the road back--" He smiled gently, as if recalling a distant memory. "The road back is never quite the same."
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