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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 11, 2011 23:20:08 GMT -6
OoC: To join - wayofdawarrior.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=oc&action=display&thread=2732&page=1BiC: Roderick sat back in the chair he was currently occupying, and pushed his shaggy steel. He was set up in the front corner of the Ice Breaker Tavern. An apt name. Illia was a frozen land. This little town which the tavern was situated had been frozen over just this morning. He'd helped chip the door open just a few hours before. Taverns were also a place where people came to loosen up.... "Break the ice" as it were.... The yeoman fiddled with his sword, laying on the table in front of him as he gazed out the window he was siting next to. The small morning breeze pushing its way through the window chilled him enough that he wished he could drink something like a warm cider, or anything warm.... Alcohol was detrimental to his functioning though. Maybe they'd have some tea on in the back, or could fix some for him.... Anything warm would be appreciated. Rod had been there for roughly fifteen hours, sent to gather and organize a force to hunt down a particularly troublesome brigand. The small town which was playing host to the mostly freelance army he was supposed to be gathering had been chosen because of it's location. It was about a day or so off the main road, and was fairly centrally located, which made it easy to approach. It was also the best place to head into the wilderness where their target was waiting. Flyers, and Criers had been sent out in the surrounding region, and had been spreading news of the job for over a week now. "Come help us hunt down the Notorious Lacerator! Protect your lands!" Rod wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd get from this, but the people in the upstairs of the army thought there'd be something worth while, or else they wouldn't have sent Rod, and promised to send some aerial cavalry his way too.... He wondered how long Hera would be, before she arrived. She was supposed o be assigned here as well. Roderick stopped fiddling with his curved blade, and set it to rest atop the stack of papers near at hand. The table he was at had been converted into a sort of sign up spot. Nothing fancy. Just a name.... Supposedly, it was to assist in keeping track of payment. It was likely enough that it would be so their tombstones would have a name on it, however.... "Barkeep?! Is there a fresh pot of tea fixing back there, by any chance?" One could never tell who would actually be serving customers at any given time. There were a few people working as tavern help.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 12, 2011 13:08:34 GMT -6
"Ugh, so busy," thought Mary as she darted from table to table. Who would have ever expected that the Ice Breaker would ever in the history of its existence be this packed? Not Mary, that was for sure. For as long as she had been living in it, and she had been living in it her whole life, this town had been a little backwater, god-forsaken spit of a town. Recently, however, what with the increased bandit activity in Ilia, this town had become sort of a stop off just a ways away from a secondary route for travelers, merchants and the like, journeying to Edessa. It was a bit surreal, seeing how just a few months earlier, visitors were a rarity in these parts. How times change.
"Come help us hunt down the Notorious Lacerator! Protect your lands!"
A voice sounded from across the room. It was an older man's voice. Rod, if Mary had heard correctly. He'd shown up last night and had been here trying to recruit people to hunt down some bandit. "Notorious Lacerator" as it was. Mary scowled as she strode over to a slightly buzzed patron, pouring him another mug of ale from her pitcher. Bandits. What did they hope to gain? Preying on innocent people for their own ill-gotten gain. Oh, it made her blood boil. She'd love to give that brute a piece of her mind.
But she was stuck here. She was just a barmaid after all.
"Barkeep?! Is there a fresh pot of tea fixing back there, by any chance?"
It was Rod's voice again. He seemed a bit more exasperated this time. Sounded like he wasn't getting any service. Wasn't a shock. There were about seven people running this place, what with Fredric running the inn, John handling the bar, Darnen fixing up food in the back, Samuel running it out to everyone, which left her, Nester, and Lex to service all of the patrons. Too bad Nester was lazy as all hell and Lex was constantly cleaning up messes. The place wasn't a zoo or anything, but people drank a lot in Ilia, and people under the influence of alcohol tended to leave a lot of messes. For better or for worse, that left Mary to be the primary service girl.
Nimbly stepping over fallen meat pie, Mary made her way over to Rod, and not bothering to hide her frustrated temperament, attempted to attend to the man. "We don't have any tea," she said to Roderick. "Fredric says its a women's drink that 'ain't fit for an Ilian man heading through parts as harsh as these.' Refuses to stock the stuff."
Mary then turned her head towards a skinnier looking man, about two years younger than her standing across the room sweeping up some indeterminable mess. "Oi, Lex! Clean up that pie when you get a chance, will you?" she shouted. Lex looked over at Mary, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head, muttering something only Mary could apparently determine. "Not right now, just when you're done! If you want help, then get Nester! Not like he does anything around here anyways." The pink haired barmaid turned her head back towards Rod. "Yeah, so no tea. We've got cider. I'll get you a cider. Good? Great." Mary then hurried off towards the bar.
"John, I need a cider," she ordered while still heading over. As if psychic, the bartender pulled one out from under the bar counter. "Thought you would. Haven't seen that man touch a single beer whole time he's been here," he replied, a knowing look on his face. One didn't run a bar for as long as John had without being able to figure this stuff out. Mary nodded, smiling. "Thanks. Today is a killer," she said, exasperated, as she grabbed the mug. John just shook his head, smiling, as Mary hurried off. It was pretty busy.
Arriving back at Roderick's table, Mary plopped the steaming, apple drink down in front of the older, armed man. "Will you be needing anything else?" she asked, hoping she hadn't been a bit too hurried and offended the man.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 12, 2011 16:14:24 GMT -6
"A woman's drink.... Pheh. I don't suppose his palette has experienced a proper cuppa tea then, eh?" Rod felt a bit annoyed that they didn't have stock much other than beer, but quickly got over it. It seemed that the place didn't often see much business. He watched as hurried off to fetch him a cider.... Hopefully, of the non- alcoholic sort. As she returned he nodded thanks, and inspected the drink she'd brought him.
"Thank you, Mary." He'd picked up the names of the workers here quickly enough, early in the morning, when it was still quiet. It had gotten considerably louder since that time though.
"Just one thing. This isn't hard cider, is it?"
Poor thing, with one of the servers doing nothing, and another kept busy with all the messes, she seemed to be run pretty ragged.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 12, 2011 22:05:56 GMT -6
"Nope," replied Mary, running a hand through her hair. "I mean, mostly that's what we serve, but John made it just for you. Said he can tell you don't drink alcohol." The Abend girl looked down at the table, forgetting how busy she was as she saw the man's sword and remembered what he had said earlier, about the Notorious Lacerator bandit and all.
"So, you recruiting for a bandit hunt?" she asked, perhaps a little more inquisitively than one would expect from a barmaid. "What are the requirements?"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 12, 2011 23:35:23 GMT -6
Reassured that there was nothing to be worried about in the drink, he lifted it towards John, behind the counter, and took a sip before setting it down.
The girl before him seemed to be taking an interest in this mission. He narrowed his eyes, and gave her a quick inspection. She looked.... spirited.
"That's right. We're hunting down John the Lacerator. He's been getting a bit more ambitious recently, and has struck one to many caravans." Actually, he'd struck about 15 to many caravans. Even 1 was too many, as far as Rod was concerned.
"You're interested?"
Requirements... That was a joke. Willingness to die, frozen to the cold hard dirt.... potentially landing in a brigands belly eventually. The bandits out in the wild had been rumored to cannibalize before.
"You've got to convince me you won't be completely in the way.... Can I borrow you for a moment?" Roderick stood to his feet and picked up his weapon from the table. Who was this girl who would ask to join a mission out into the wilds? He wouldn't laugh her off outright. That would be irresponsible. Everyone had potential.
The room was still crowded, but hey, Nestor would still be there.
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Jun 13, 2011 5:18:36 GMT -6
"... an' knocked 'im on 'is arse! HEY!" a roaring crowd shouted, ending a drinking song that no one in the area had heard before, but were just taught by a man that blew in hours before. This man, beard nearly reaching his belt and rippling muscles almost inhuman in size, danced on the stage of an Ilian bar. An intricate dance that mostly involved moving one's legs as opposed to any of their upper body. Music was not present to spur this dance, but in the man's head there was an entire band of fiddle, bagpipe, djembe, guitar, and flute backing his drunken, booming baritone singing. As soon as the song was over, the man finished his dance with flair, all while holding two flagons of cider.
"Hey Brannigan! What's that dance all about? You're just moving your feet!" one of the members of the assembled crowd shouted. Brannigan looked at him and hopped to the floor. He stuck a flagon in the man's arms and held up his other next to his face.
"So's I don' spill me drink, boyo!" he let out a belly laugh and downed the rest of his flagon. Wiping the cider from his beard, he spied a table across the bar populated by a man who looked like he needed a good time and a beautiful girl who looked much the same. Brannigan excused himself from the crowd and slid up to the table.
"Ae! Ye look like ye got a corn weevil stuck up yer arse! Have fun!" He looked at the two and came to only one solution. He hated seeing people down on their luck, or at least that's what it looked like to him, so there was only one thing he could do, "Tell ye what! I'll buy ye two a drink! Anythin' ye want!"
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David Krisby
Mercenary
DEAD
"Where is MY path to redemption?"
Posts: 81
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Post by David Krisby on Jun 13, 2011 10:51:18 GMT -6
Dave had just arrived in this small village of Ilia. Not much around elsewhere, so it was a good place to stop for a breather. He entered the local pub, being careful to not trail snow in. Several people glared at him for a second before returning to their drink. Everyone knew that it was unlikely that the Sacean would be served, much less bother someone.
He seemed to have entered at the right time, because someone called out, "Come help us hunt down the Notorious Lacerator! Protect your lands!"
Ah, a chance to gain another ally. Dave thought. This man seemed desperate, so maybe he wouldn't mind the Sacaen so much.
Dave approached the man slowly. He bowed to the man with grace saying, "I would be honored to join your hunt. I am Dave Karavalenge of Sacae, a hunter of the plains. Would you allow one such as I to join your noble battle?"
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 13, 2011 15:02:56 GMT -6
Mary wasn't exactly sure how big a corn weevil was, seeing as how bugs were a bit of a scarcity here in Ilia. You know, with the snow and all. However, she did remember finding a big beetle in a shipment of wheat Fredric had gotten in from Santaruz a couple of years back. If a corn weevil was anything like that, she knew she didn't want it anywhere near her a-
"I would be honored to join your hunt. I am Dave Karavalenge of Sacae, a hunter of the plains. Would you allow one such as I to join your noble battle?"
A green haired man approached the table, his demeanor very stowed and polite, much opposite from the much louder, much larger, much more bearded, very drunk man who had offered to by her and Roderick a drink. Compared to red beard over here, the Sacaen wasn't all that impressive. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy and all, what with the way he introduced himself, but he didn't seem very assertive. That, and he had no muscle on him. Seemed like all Sacaens were pretty lithe. Red beard, though? He definitely had muscle, oh yes, and plenty of assertiveness. Mary definitely like-
Stop that! Why was she even going there? Guy looked like he was almost fifty. Talk about an age gap. Besides, what did any of this have to do with signing up for a bandit hunt? Mary shook her head. Fredric was right, she needed to find a guy or something. Too bad all the men up here were either drunk blowhards, wimps, old...or dead. Fredric always said her standards were too high, and he may be right, but after 24 years of nothing, Mary wasn't going to break tradition for any ol' bum who waltzed through this tavern. Wait. Why was she still thinking about this?
Turning to the gigantic man with muscles that looked like they'd burst out of his skin if they got any bigger, Mary shook her head while readjusting the flagon in her hands. "I'm on duty. Can't drink while I'm working. If you're still here after I'm off, though, I know I'm definitely going to need a drink. A big one," she said. If there was one thing she knew, it was to never turn down free alcohol outright. Then turning back to Rod, she nodded her head. "I wasn't necessarily asking like that, but if you want to discussing things more after my shift, I'll be more than happy to talk more." She nodded towards Dave. "Right now, though, I think you've got some more surefire employment to deal with."
And with that, Mary scurried back among the tables, pouring beers left and right for customers who were a tad disgruntled she'd stopped the constant flow of golden frothy liquid. God, that sounded wrong.
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Selibas
Hero
The Little Wolf
My Word is Iron.
Posts: 455
Etruria Fame: -1
Bern Fame: 4
Illia Fame: -3
Profession: Khan
Guild: Tribe of Sacae
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Selibas on Jun 13, 2011 15:51:51 GMT -6
Chlane walked in to the tavern relieved to be out of the cold. He sat down at a table away from the large crowd near the bar and set his sword on the table. It was very big and the blacksmith he'd bought it from said it was used originally as a showpeice to make common soldiers brave. He placed it to show he was for hire, then sat and took out his wooden puzzle box, and tried to solve it. He would wait an hour, if a paying job didn't present itself, he'd leave and get moving. The Silver Axe at his side hung to the ground and as his frustration grew he began to thing of using the big thing to simply break his puzzle box.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Jun 13, 2011 17:46:49 GMT -6
Across the room, a large and boisterous man's song ended, the ambient temperature of the room lowered a bit, as the door was opened, and half a dozen other occurrences going on all around the room continued. He'd been able to see and feel much less of his surroundings from the seat he'd been occupying.
Roderick's eyes shifted up to the mountain of a man who approached. A corn weevil up my a-. Ah.... an expression.
Rod smiled a quick laugh, and commented back. "Hah, don't trouble yourself on my account, friend. I've got a fresh drink not a moment ago...." Rod reached down and grabbed a drink, before buckling his sword back around his waist.
"You however, may have to go back to weevil-finding school." Rod gave a quick slap on the man's arm, and turned to listen to the newcomer. Here was someone interested in joining up, though he was a foreigner by the looks of him. He listened to Mary's quick parting message. Not asked like that? Why else would she ask? Idle conversation? And yet her willingness to speak about it meant something to Roderick. He could be wrong about her, but he was pretty sure that she'd had some practice in battle of some sort. Dancing over that meat pie earlier, as he'd noticed could be attributed to practice in the tavern environment, but her movements betrayed a sort of confidence which was frequently displayed by those with martial practice. Even rudimentary levels.
Things were getting so busy....
- - - - - - - - - -
The skies were cold. They were always cold here, though. In truth, they were fortunate to be able to make the flight without having to brave the storm. Sovereign carried the Falcoknight, Hera Feldsky, through the airs as if a boat on the river. His wings cut through the wind like far better than the senior flyer did. The cold was unrelenting as they passed over the land.
"Feldsky! Where ARE we?!"
The voice came from slightly behind the falcoknight. From Delia Collins, a pegasus knight of mixed reputation. She ought to have used a more formal term of address than "Feldsky." Sir, or Dame. It was the knight's choice. Hera only made a fuss over it when the person clearly was out of line, and needed a reminder of who they were dealing with.
"We should be almost to our destination, Delia. Only a few more miles."
"Good! Because I want me some breakfast, and a strong drink!"
Hera only frowned slightly, and shook her head.... She took this whole assignment very seriously, yet this other white winged flyer couldn't seem to stay focused on task. Delia had been well enough recommended though. She had a reputation for toughness that few of her peers could match.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Dave Karavalenge of Sacae. I am Roderick Feldsky, of Arphen. I would be glad to accept your help on this trek." Unlike some of his countrymen, Roderick held great respect for the talents which the sacaens cultivated. Their swordsmanship was the epitomy of speed and skill, and their bow craft... Mmm.... Impeccable.
"Payment is in the bounties that adorn the heads of our targets, and will be split evenly between the troop. 100 gold pieces for each of John Lacerator's brigands, and more for his lieutenants. Their equipment belongs to the bandit slayer, and may be kept, or sold back to us as well. Any spoils which they may have will be accounted for as well...." Roderick frowned slightly, and looked out the window as he spoke.
"Not that there's anything of great value here...." Roderick quirked a smile, as if to say "well, it's true," and glanced back to Dave. "Does this sound fair?"
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Farlus
Mage
[M:0]
You had better hope I can make use of you.
Posts: 67
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Post by Farlus on Jun 13, 2011 18:44:20 GMT -6
The flat out rejection of his offer by the man at the table stunted Brannigan's confidence slightly. At least the girl seemed to want to take him up on it later. He looked her up and down. It really was a shame she was so young. In fact, she looked even younger than his best friend's son. Or at least based on what he imagined Tirion to look like by then. He'd be around thirty or so, he thought. The idea that he considered hitting on a girl younger than his godson sent a bit of a shudder up his spine followed by a slightly depressed sigh. If he were twenty years younger, he -
Brannigan's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a newcomer. He stood looking and listening to the resulting conversation. A corner of his mouth turned itself up in a smirk that slowly curled up as the conversation reached it's close, revealing clenched teeth. If there was one thing that Brannigan was up for at all times, it was the chance to put his strengths to use for the greater good. The warrior slammed the table with a pair of meaty hands, attempting to get this Roderick's attention.
"Then perhaps there be somethin' I can do fer ye, then! I'll help ye drive off these scalliwags free o' charge! Just as long as I get ta bash in some no good low life skulls!"
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David Krisby
Mercenary
DEAD
"Where is MY path to redemption?"
Posts: 81
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Post by David Krisby on Jun 13, 2011 19:03:28 GMT -6
"Of course those wages are fair, Sir Feldsky of Arphen. You can count on my assistance."
Dave was not quite so pleased with the local who had offered a drink to Roderick. He doubted that the buffoon could write, but he could probably club some heads in. At the very least, he would make a decent shield if necessary. Of course, Dave hadn't been to Ilia in awhile, maybe this man would surprise him. Then again, maybe he was exactly as Dave thought.
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Selibas
Hero
The Little Wolf
My Word is Iron.
Posts: 455
Etruria Fame: -1
Bern Fame: 4
Illia Fame: -3
Profession: Khan
Guild: Tribe of Sacae
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Selibas on Jun 13, 2011 19:35:58 GMT -6
Chlane quickly grew tired of the interlocking set of locks and buttons, and slid the box back into his bag. Then, "Then perhaps there be somethin' I can do fer ye, then! I'll help ye drive off these scalliwags free o' charge! Just as long as I get ta bash in some no good low life skulls!" Chlane looked up, and saw a man about his size with a large beard yelling. There seemed to be a potential job. In fact there were many people all around one man sitting with a very nice sword in front of him.
Chlane got up and made his way over slipping his "Brave Sword" into its sheath above his Giant Silver Blade. He refused to put his swords on his back like the young bravodos of the time. He made it so that he was standing next to the large man with the unrecognizable accent. He said, "I'm Chlane Harrow, I'll come along if I get paid." He realized he probably sounded more blunt than he meant to, but that really didn't matter to him today, or for the past year for that matter.
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Post by Kelvin H. Calderon on Jun 13, 2011 21:35:10 GMT -6
As the others talked with the recruiter, a ghost entered the inn. Or it may as well have been one, for the man who entered the inn was as quiet and cold as a ghost. He moved quickly to the recruiter, pushing past the others in line. One young man, he could have been no older than twenty-two or so, grabbed his shoulder, and shouted at him, "I don't know who you think you are, but..." The young man never got a chance to finish his sentence, however, as blood spurted out from his neck, spraying the quiet man, who had, apparently, drawn one of his twin short swords, which was covered in a thin layer of blood. The young man gurgled for a second, before collapsing dead on the floor.
The mysterious man wiped his blade on his shirt and sheathed it, then used his sleeve to wipe some of the blood from his face. He turned to the recruiter, face still expressionless, "Name's Chasay. I kill things. You got a job. Need things killed. You pay me. I'll kill them."
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Yaen
Swordmaster
Prince of Blades Mad Swordsman
Now let's play the Song of Swords.
Posts: 305
Sacae Fame: 2
Bern Fame: 3
Lycia Fame: 1
Profession: Vagabond
Affinity: Thunder
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Post by Yaen on Jun 14, 2011 6:46:00 GMT -6
Sebastian winced at Delia's loud, somewhat obnoxious words. This was just great. He already had a problem around girls, and this one was not only a very pretty girl, but also liked to get in your face. Needless to say, the Lieutenant felt like he was in hell. "I don't think we should be drinking. We're here on an assignment, after all!" He reminded her.
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