There were Passers - who stuck to a single form and tried to be that form and identity. Passers turned their back on their own race and heritage as changelings in order to literally become something else. Becomers were another faction - slipping from one role to another and having a dozen identities they could access and portray at a moment's notice.
The Reality Seekers were different from the other two. They were their own race - changelings. Deception was perhaps part of their existence and reality, yet Truth was something to strive for. Perfection in their own form and a certain pride as well.
Issandra didn't deceive other changelings, and she would not deceive members of her existing group. In this case, the members of the 304th or this 'Nerima Wrecking Crew' were among the members she'd treat truthfully with.
She slipped from the tavern easily, ducked into a short alley, and reversed her cloak. A loose cap was pulled out of a pocket, an overtunic unfolded.
What emerged from the end of that alley was a male half-orc wearing a skullcap and overtunic. He bought a pastry off of a street vendor, wandered around briefly as if shopping, then entered a tavern.
A somewhat tomboyish looking elf exited the tavern a few moments later.
Issandra preferred female roles. She was female after all, and while she could perform the physical change easily enough - there were psychological and social aspects of being female that simply felt more natural to her. There were stories of changelings like Bin The Legendary Lover, and some Reality Seekers went for the genderless look, but Issandra preferred as much of her identity as she could under the circumstances. She didn't care for being male, and she didn't like the whole 'front line fighter' department - but those were limitations that she applied herself to herself.
If anyone stopped her, they would find identification that was perfectly in order for Issana The Archer. A sniper who favored the short bow, one who had been support for a group of armored knights. The role was a favorite of hers and one she had developed over long years during her armed service. There were many who knew Issana personally, others had heard of her, and there was nothing to indicate that the 'rough and tumble' Issana didn't actually exist.
Part of her favoring the role was that Issana The Archer was a friendly upbeat if 'earthy' girl. While she could easily dress up and attain an elven elegance, she was rather more likely to be found engaged in things that would be beneath an Aerenal elf's dignity. She had a certain friendly relationship with those she'd worked with on occasion, most of whom would never suspect that Issana was Issandra.
Issandra's dream was eventually to forego the whole sneaking around thing, even if much of her talent did lie in such activities, and to become a powerful and respected wizard. A recaster. That required connections or money or both.
She wondered if this 'Ranma' had any ambitions.
The warforged known as Arrow glanced around.
Sharn was the City Of Towers, which had always struck her as a nonsensical place.
While not a spellcaster herself, she'd seen some of the things that could happen in the field of battle. Magic disrupting spells and effects could wreak havoc on a place that required magic to remain standing. She had seen spells that caused rock to liquify, and she could only imagine what would happen if that hit the base of one of these towers.
Oh yeah, there were laws against it. How many laws did most of these softbodies actually hew to? Not many in Arrow's opinion.
"I need... altitude," announced Ranma abruptly. "Be right back."
Case in point, decided Arrow. There was the monk, going and completely ignoring physical laws and what was possible for a human unassisted by magic, and leaping up to the braces for the next ledge. Most humans settled for breaking civil laws, this one seemed to just want to violate physical ones.
"Nothing obvious," said Ranma, dropping back down a few minutes later. "Uhm, so you're an archer?"
"The technical term is 'ranger'," said Arrow. On seeing what she interpreted as a lack of understanding, she continued. "It is a term that indicates someone who is trained in tracking, woodcraft, and archery."
"Ah," said Ranma, figuring he needed to know who could do what. "So you were in that armed forces stuff as a scout, right?"
"And long distance weapons fire," said Arrow, pulling the hood of her cloak up. "It is useful to interrupt enemy spellcasters at a distance."
"Hmmm," said Ranma, keeping an eye out. "Any good?"
"I've been around," said Arrow. "I'm more experienced than Tao. I served with another unit before the 304th."
"What happened to them?" asked Ranma. Just two people out walking and talking. Nothing unusual here, nope.
"Airship. Enemy spellcasters who kept out of range of my arrows. Undead with crossbows."
"Ah, attacking from high ground," said Ranma, familiar with the principle. Of course he was picturing something like a helicopter or airplane, but he had the basic idea.
"Undead. Never did like undead," admitted Arrow. "Have to use magic, fire arrows, or blessed weapons."
"Sounds tough," agreed Ranma.
"Transferred into the 304th after that, not much of my unit left," said Arrow.
"Yeah," said Ranma. "That looks like a spot over there."
"What?" Arrow glanced in the indicated direction. "What do you mean? He's gone again?"
Ranma looked from where he'd clambered up and was hanging from. He got a good field of view from here but was concealed in shadow. He could see that:
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(Posted Sun, 05 Jun 2005 09:03)
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