Re: A Pirate's (Un)Life for me! (Rovana)
Captain Lady Rovana Dilisnya?
Krezk, streets-> Vilisevic house
Rovana had shrugged at the abbot. She wasn't quite used to niceties coming from the clergy.. certainly not in her pirating days, nor in these lands. It certainly didn't help with her uncertainty of who she was, or, more importantly, who she was going to be, so she decided to leave the abbots blessings unanswered, where, normally, she'd propably have thought up an at least subtly sarcastic remark about how he'd have to do a lot of blessing to even out what she had gotten herself into.
"Theres an issue or two I have to figure out before we can set sails, the least of which is the fact that we have no gold to stock up on supplies for the sailing, so unless you want us all to travel as undead, which is not an impossibility as things stand on these shores, we be stranded for now, even ignoring the greater.. hinderances, much as I agree with yer notion. As for crossing blades with the dead, think about it this way, they nay been good enough to stay alive, what challenge can they be?" Rovana tried to cheer more than actually argue. She'd rather not repeat that line of reasoning before Strahd, Ludmilla, or even any of the vampires. Briefly she wondered if she could handle one of the lesser vampires if Strahd decided to be annoyed enough at her to send just one out and keep Ludmilla locked up, but she quickly decided against thinking about this further and work on empowering her blade before it got to that. Worst came to worst, tonight she'd be resting at an inn and didn't plan to invite any undead that weren't black, beautiful and had those eyes that made a suprisingly soft and feminine side of the captain tingle with eager uncertainty. Tomorrow.. was another day to take by itself.
~~~
Rovana had a slightly tired smile at the reminiscent scent of stronger tobacco.
"I asked nicely to get in.. Well, nice, with a hint of manipulation." Rovana didn't feel like clouding any truths today.
"I see. I've seen no proper dawn here, but it's at least prettier than the last statue I saw. Thanks for telling me, I have been wondering.. Let's say I fought a less than hospitable man that yet shared your skin color, I guess some never chose the path of civilization. If Krezk has such warriors, how come you are not out there, driving back the creatures prowling the wildernis, certainly, something happened?" About 200 years ago, but I'm uncertain if I should ask directly, that said, considering his age, his Grandfather might have been a young boy, if I'm quite lucky..
At the mans encouragement she took a bit of a sip from the pond as well, shrugging slightly.
"Some maladies can't be cured so easily, but I had a chat with the abbot earlier, I'll be alright." She sheated the spear again, looking at the man.
"The spear is your families by right, but.. eh, to Davy Johnes with it, what do I have to lose." She shrugged, stepping over to the man, pulling the weapon, presenting it.
"I keep a hold of it, to give it to one thats more youthful, yet older than you. If you wish to know what it is, take a hold of it. If it called out to me, it can whisper to you and explain these things better than I could." Certain things should be experienced, not explained.
"Well, in a way then, we are both the last living branches on a withered tree.." She saved herself a comment about being a bit less withered, herself.
"Or perhaps we are not. Allow me." She took place, exhaling, pondering, then pulling out the ruby necklace, while at it, unsheathing and sticking her sword into the ground, after a moment, casually hanging the necklace over the blade, as if presenting it, as she took place, kicking her legs back, more pirate and less noblelike.
"Recognize any of these? I suspect that this blade, my cloak, and this necklace once belonged to the same person." She hesitated, looking at her sword.
"It may have looked different. This sword is incomplete. I can't explain it better than to ask you to think of it as broken, even though the blade might seem fine. It can.. oh let me show, so my story seems not completely unbelievable." She touched the heft of the blade, then extended her other hand towards the pond of pure water, just generally reaching out for the water.
"They are my posessions.. yet they are not. I introduced myself as Rovana Dilisnya, but, truth be told, my name..
the name I remember.." She rubbed her forehead.
"I .. think I was born as someone else, before I called myself the Reaver. Ugh, well, I promised yourself a riddle.
If you read of the Dilisnya family, you propably read that they disappeared, about.. 200 years ago, a bit less perhaps, I would guess? Well, whatever happened back then, got me in quite the mess." Rovana figured Ludmilla, in her undead life, might have missed a year or two.
"There is someone that was around at the time I could ask, but.. for now, I don't know.. I mean, I want to trust her. I mean, I am certain I do, but I'm not sure who I am." She raised a hand.
"I remember quite certain who I was. But I feel different. I guess I promised you riddles: Who are you; Your past, or your present, or your future? Let us say I could take your spirit and mind out of this body of an aged warrior, and put you into a barmaids body, would you still be a warrior? What if you woke up remembering being a barmaid on top of it. Moreso, let us say you have committed sins in your past life you don't remember, is it still your duty to pay for them? And, furthermore, should you now live the life of a barmaid, the life of a warrior, or a life that suits you?" Rovana looked at one of her hands, as if expecting something she hadn't seen every day.
"I've lived my life by a certain code and for a while, I was happy. Yet always, I was driven onwards. I doubt this will ever stop, but I found something that can.. calm this hunt and yearning, someone, the one this spear is ment for, someone I yearn for, someone I want to help me find and guide on my way.. yet, .. as much as I want to trust her, DO trust her, I cannot trust my own trust." Rovana shook her head at what she was saying, exhaling.
"I guess what I'm trying to find out is which path I used to tread, to know which path I should follow, which path I should help others follow.." Because, considering Dagon, not all in the past had worked out. Ludmillas lover had died once before, and she needed to know how.
"..Sorry if I make no sense to you." She didn't want to flat out admit the truth, less so with Jowai close, she didn't want to say that, while she loved being the noble, the captain, the leader, deep down she was scared of the responsibility as well. She wanted to give some of that up, give in.. let Ludmilla take charge, not just a little, but a lot, as odd as it was for the freedom-loving pirate captain, she wanted to be bound to the vampiress, made to obey, like Lady Wachter had made her, if with a more benevolent hand, guided, trained, to be someone truly desireable to her beloved.. but what was that? Pirate and scoundrel, noble and hero? Perhaps a mixture? For that matter, who was Ludmilla, the vampiric monster, or the primal, proud noble? Rovana knew that her body yearned to feel another dark kiss, her heart yearned for guidance and her mind fantasized about being bound, disciplined, trained.. as dangerous blood doll? As pretty, but bound noble? As beloved doll-slave? She felt like the spear gave her the tool to help Ludmilla slowly break free of the vampires influence, but Rovana feared that in part that might also unleash the vampiress darker urges, as well as it could free her noble spirit.. but, thinking back to her dream from long ago, which did she actually want? What had.. Ludmillas first lover wanted, why had she failed? Her eyes wandered over Ludmillas spear, lost in thought.. as well as certain erotic fantasies, still remembering how last time they had met, Ludmillas eyes had dranken up her every curve, as she imagined having Ludmilla claim her, ebon hands upon pale skin as she'd dress her pretty blooddoll, gently but firmly putting a nice buttplug and perfectly form fitting dress onto and into her before playing with her, making her helpless and malleable to the vampiress whims make her pretty, yet at the same time inescapably owned. Butfor Ludmillas whims, not Strahds darkness, or another spirits designs. Nor, ruled by her dark hunger, but owning it, like she'd own Rovana.
"...Heh, who'd have thought, me taking caution not to repeat the errors of the past, I must be getting old."