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Tahira Quil'Kovesh
OC Approved
Dash  ·  
Dec 21, 2021
Edited: Dec 22, 2021

What is a life?

in Other

The people who called this province home were irredeemable. The iniquities adulterating their souls were far-reaching. Tahira, head inquisitor to the Eternal House, had seen the true face of the empire. While hidden from most, its odious essence had reared its grotesque head. Her life was a cluster of fabrications, sutured together by a family that no longer existed. Rakash and Faaria were dead, and Mazana was an enemy of the state. For decades she wielded her blade in service to Samara.

Tahira shouldered the atrocities of her motherland for the good of the people. Not once had the mer challenged her actions, not once had she faltered in her resolve. Yet, the purpose that steered her blade was a lie. The nation knew of her rearing; they invested in her birthing. Outwardly the mer appeared normal, but in truth, she was a blemish upon the natural order. And while the citizens may have remained oblivious, those that governed them weren't faultless. Her retirement might have taken Samara by surprise, the false queen was ignorant of what her prized possession had unearthed.

Within those arcane-tinged eyes, there was no rebutting the truth. That facility tucked within the Ashlandian mountains contained many secrets, many horrors, and crimes against the planet. The inquisitor had beheld it and ended it. Hundreds of replications, each increasingly malformed, lamented in utter anguish. They implored for her to terminate their wretched existence, not out of hate but kindness. Tahira Quil'Kovesh perished that day within the heaps of cancerous corpses. She died not once but a hundred times over.

Each time that sword plunged into their hearts, she felt a fragment of her wilt along with them. That facility, its men of science, were butchered like cattle. That great beacon of advancement was set ablaze, along with the village alongside the outskirts housing the employees' families. Wrath unbridled was let loose. For the first time, Tahira listened to the drumming of the planet's heart, beckoning to its exclamations for blood. The dried sands were saturated that day. Their white hue besmeared red as the cerulean welkin was blanketed by blackened smog.

The detective knew it would only be a matter of time before her crimes were known. And while the Eternal House could never hunt her publicly, given it would divulge their experiments. The inquisitor expected the coming game of cat and mouse to be carried in secret. Yet another war from the shadows, a crusade meant to vilify what the shortsighted citizens anointed as a "hero." There was no escape, no quarter from that coming judgment. And rather than slink away and burn out within obscurity. Tahira selected to confront it fearlessly and go out in a dazzling conflagration.

The renowned champion of the desert, the state's fabled ashen hound, had cast aside that collar. She'd meander through the streets of Emerald. The people beside her failed to register, as she felt wholly alone for the first time. They were so divorced from one another that she couldn't dream of forming a lasting bond. The white sands, its residents were not her kind of people. After all, how could an imitation ever hope to relate to what they were engineered to parody? No, their mere permeance was a rancid reminder.

Tahira Quil'Kovesh was nothing. She had nothing. And what she had known were fantasies planted within her mind since birth. And so, she took the moniker of Zero, a befitting designation. Her wanderings ended as she blundered across a gathering throng—the behemoth of an elf standing above most in stature as she investigated: Valerna Jorgenskull, another inquisitor, and some kitsune runt. Interesting, so the enemy of her enemy had arrived?

Silently, the mer abided, waiting for them to vacate themselves out of her way. She had to find her sister, Mazana. Only she could provide answers and possibly closure. Those before mentioned questions that had helmed her stride repeated ever so prevalently within her mind. Before, she sought such material solutions to immaterial quandaries with the hopes of furthering her understanding of the world. Now, the seven-foot elf endeavored to uncover them to find meaning in what was a pointless existence. What is a life? She knew not the answer, but Tahira believed before she died, she'd glean the solution.

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Tahira Quil'Kovesh
Dec 27, 2021
•

---Exit Tahira.--- (Excalibur has withdrawn from the group RP for now. So I will be concluding it here. Will delete this thread if he reaches out to me expressing interest to continue.)

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Tahira Quil'Kovesh
Dec 23, 2021
•

Tahira glimpsed at the tiny man as the worm wiggled closer. Haitham's loitering eyes wouldn't take long to be regarded. The inquisitor wasn't one to be studied. Such improper social interactions only fostered disdain as a cold glower was presented to this sailor. The investigator was inured to such protracted staring, the ogling of an undomesticated beast scanning a victim. Whatever the fetid cur was selling, the ashen wolf would have no part of. The closer Haitham drew, the more conspicuous his arrogance presented itself.


She had detected such a creature before. The seafarer was likened to a vulture within her eyes. A voracious little bottom feeder that gorged onto a carcass in some desperate bid to surfeit one's appetite. Ironic, given the she-elf disputed whether or not she could be classified as even a corpse. Such inane determinations were incorporated within her steeled mind. Those teal and emerald eyes spectated as the cutthroat braved to stand alongside her. The inquisitor was beside herself. A bit surprised he had marshaled such resolve.


Such mustering and their awe wouldn't remain for long. That silence, while short-lived, had only elevated himself within the elf's eyes. Now that Haitham spoke, Tahira surmised lumping him up with the buzzard may have been an affront to such corpse strippers. They at least had the courtesy to wait till the body was dead before swooping down and encircling their meal. Those catlike eyes narrowed, judging the man as the miscreant dared to analogize her to a giant. Tahira might have been an imitation, some sick lampoon against creation. But she still held some dignity concerning her former station and the accounts shrouding her accomplishments.


Casually her foci sailed from the man, her hand unsheathing that katana as it stood without a blade. The brandished hilt was likely to rouse a myriad of inquests. None of which the mer had the time or energy to resolve.


"Mind speaking up. It's difficult to hear you from down there, little man. Maybe try using your chest for once."


She riposted his crude opening with one of equivalent spurn. That indignation was apparent, as Tahira had zero interest in masquerading her depreciating thoughts on the criminal. Her focus returned as he continued to speak. Haitham's dialogue was off-putting. Tahira had wandered across the desert and jungle alike, braved the defilement and their monstrosities. Yet, in all of her escapades, she had never bumbled across someone who spoke in such a foreign fashion.


"I doubt you care what I think."


The seven-foot woman paused, turning to face the man. The special forces agent was a bit shocked he hadn't noticed her attire and the prestige it merited. Then again, the djinn had forgotten she expected much from what was little.


"Why do you speak so funny? Are you trying to be clever? Do you think some odd lingo somehow makes you more tolerable or mystifying? No, it makes you come across as a jester, like one of those chimps that clashed their cymbals for their masters; only he wasn't gainfully employed. Try again, this time talk like an actual person. It is you, ye or ya. Even then, no one from the sands says ye or ya."


She rebuked the man before turning around and walking away from the crowd. Keeping her senses aimed at the stranger lest he suddenly tried something idiotic. Those sandals moved across the sandy road as she brooded over what sort of defect beset his mind. Was he mentally lacking? Could the elf be the victim of a distant idiocracy? Or was this some farce, an elaborate ruse?

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Unknown member
Dec 22, 2021

Haitham awoke in the room he had rented in a bit of a daze. Besides feeling a bit groggy the Mer felt fine. He was used to waking up this way. The cause was a long night of drinking, merriment, and of course fighting. He checked his body for injury. Glad to find there was little more than a small bruise or two. Seemed his first night in the city was less than productive. Well, there was time to change that. After a quick breakfast, the consisted of the bottle he didn't finish last night and some stale leftover bread Haitham journeyed downstairs. He moved quickly past the morning patrons and stopped at the bar where he placed a few coins down.


"I'll take some water to go."


The barkeep raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised anyone had asked for something to drink that wasn't booze. He regained his composure quickly enough and retrieved the water for Haitham placing it before the Mer. Haitham nodded and chugged the drink down. It was truly refreshing and he hoped it would drown what remained of the alcohol on his breath. After he finished his drink the ship less sailor left the...fine establishment.


The time had finally come for Haitham to get a good feel of the city. He hoped he'd come across an opportunity to amass the funds he needed, preferably quickly. The Mer began to whistle as he strolled the magnificent city and the beginnings of a mental map formed in his head. His stroll was abruptly interrupted by the rush of an oncoming crowd heading to an unknown destination. Haitham stopped in his tracks and grabbed the first person he could. His hand landed on the arm of a female Jackal. The Jackal was a plain and ordinary, the type you wouldn't give a second glance if you saw her on the street.


"Whoa, their lass. Mind filling in a stranger to this city on what all this commotion be about?"


The woman gave Haitham a queer look then pulled away before answering.


"You haven't heard? The queen of those savages that attacked us is here. That awful Valerna Jorgenskull. We all want to see if she's as terrifying as the rumors say."


After giving her explanation the woman left in a hurry to rejoin the crowd.


Haitham paused for a moment before following after. Not every day a Mer got to lay eyes on royalty. He'd heard things here and there about Valerna Jorgenskull. Some said she was more spider than Giant. Haitham was curious to see just how many stories were true. The Giantess had begun her speech right as Haitham arrived. He paid little attention to what she said. For as soon as he laid eyes on here the queen struck Haitham as familiar. There was something about the matriarch's overall appearance that was familiar to Haitham. Alas no matter how hard he tried the Mer couldn't remember. Deciding he'd had seen enough the raven-haired Mer turned to leave.


That was when his eyes locked onto her. A large she-elf, he assumed she must be around six feet, standing not far away. He could make little out but something in his gut told Haitham not to let her out of his sight. It wasn't out of lust or attraction. No, this feeling only came when he sniffed an opportunity. Slowly Haitham made his way to the white-haired Mer, making sure to never lose sight of her. As he drew closer the sailor could make better observations of the lass's appearance. She had a strong look to her and she looked to be what one would call a cold beauty. What drew Haitham's eye most were well, her eyes. To Haitham her eyes looked like they had seen the worst of the horrors of this world. Haitham recognized one more thing thin them, she had the eyes only someone willing to kill in cold blood could. Those were eyes Haitham had seen in the pirates he had once hunted, the same eyes he had as well.


Haitham Stopped when he stood roughly Five feet away from the she-elf. He pondered whether or not engaging her now was a wise decision. Haitham decided that it would be too easy to get separated from the woman in the crowd if he spent too much time observing her, even if she towered over most. The Mer closed the distance and stepped to her left side. He looked up at the she-elf woth a friendly smile.


"Quite the show isn't it. Almost mistook you for one of them given your height, no offense."


His eyes quickly darted to her body. Scanning over her arms and equipment. Haitham couldn't decide who looked more deadly. The Giantess or this woman. After his quick glance Haitham's eyes returned to the woman's face.


"I be Haitham Khalid, Don't suppose you mind a stranger coming up to ye. Couldn't help it had a gut feeling ya see."

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