Rhace Tarrin
The Skyship Not-So-Weatherlight
The first question you need to ask: how do you get onto a big flying airship that could cloak? Simple: you fly there. And to do that, you ask very, very, very nicely to be allowed on board. The joys of modern technology meant that one could communicate and ask questions and potentially apply to be part of a guild without attending it in person. Considering the high-tech nature of the guild in question, this was likely the most prudent method to be doing so when you knew absolutely nobody in the guild.
The second question you need to ask: why them? Was it because they were nature-loving, dedicated to defending the world’s flowers and trees and animals? Well, no. That was a nice thing to do, sure, but the absolute concept of balance was way more attractive. A willingness to do what needed to be done in the pursuit of nobler goals was a certain mindset that Rhace Tarrin approved of, and sought to have in his personal life. Needless to say, Rhace wasn’t exactly a hero of justice.He didn’t care for that label, nor did he want it. Would he fight and kill for the sake of his perfection? Absolutely yes. They kind of frowned upon that here, so tempering the concept of murder, fine. However, killing things that needed killing was still something he could do. Something he wanted to do. He liked what they were doing and the fact that they were mobile suited him just fine.
All this being the case, he’d communicated back and forth for a little while, and requested to join; first, they’d send a shuttle for him, then they’d talk to him and see what was up with him. It was a reasonable request, something that he couldn’t turn away.
The shuttle flight was filled with trepidation; not much was communicated other than bring what you owned and turn up. That, in fact, was little more than a single suitcase. Living the life of a wanderer wasn’t exactly easy, and if they were going to have him, then he’d actually have somewhere both permanent and moving to live. It was the perfect situation, as far as he was concerned. With all seriousness, Rhace hoped that they would have him.
The shuttle touched down on cold, metallic deck plates; the swordsman was only moments after the opening of the shuttle’s hatch. His belongings in one hand, sword in the other - for once, not sitting on his hip, but sheathed and carried in his left hand as a sign of respect - he took his first steps onto the SS Endeavour and hoped that whatever welcoming party that would be here, if any, would at least be kind enough to the new kid.
That remained to be seen.
Gods, he hated being the new guy.
MEL @ WW