Isabel
Shaman
It's been far too long since I last flexed my magical muscles!
Posts: 233
Profession: Witch for Hire
Affiliation: N/A
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Izzy
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Post by Isabel on Jan 5, 2016 19:52:46 GMT -6
"So I hear you got brought on yesterday, little miss dark-and-brooding. What's your na-"
The blue-clad young woman's head snapped up while her book snapped closed, fixing the man before her with an icy stare. "'Dark and brooding'? Where'd you get that from, you twiggy pervert?" The admittedly rather skinny man took a step back from her, throwing his hands back to show her his palms.
"Whoa whoa whoa, easy there. The boss just told me that we had brought on one of those 'dark mage' types, I had just assumed... And hey, who're you to call someone a perv that you just met?"
"Well, a creepy man was hovering right over me, I just assumed." Isabel's cold expression softened at once as she stuck her tongue out at the gaunt man. "The name's Isabel, Izzy for short. You're right on two fronts, though; I was hired as an extra guard for this little caravan, and I am a 'dark mage' type. And who are you?"
The thin man straightened up, tugging on his collar with one hand and readjusting the strap crossing over his chest with the other, inadvertently showing off the quiver full of arrows on his back. "The name's Vic. Short and sweet, just the way I like my fights." Vic gave a sheepish grin, showing off his stained teeth, and ran his bony fingers through his greasy, mousy hair. "When it comes time to show these soft merchant-types what they're payin' for, well, you and I might be pretty close by. Anyone gets near you, just gimme a call. I'll stick 'em full of arrows before they even know what's going on."
Izzy simply nodded as her own hands called attention to the brand-new looking book resting on her lap. "I can't promise I'll do the same for you, but between the two of us and whoever else these merchants have hired... Well, I doubt anyone will be getting anywhere close to this caravan, I can promise you that." The sapphire witch let out a hearty laugh of her own, while a black cat seemed to materialize on the bench next to her. "I've got a new toy to play with, and I'm looking forward to testing it out on a moving target."
Vic's dull eyes were wide by the time Isabel had stopped talking, and a silence filled the air between them before he finally spoke again. "R-right... Well, uh, I'll... I think us hired guards are going to be meeting up for a drink tonight, so if you wanted to..."
Isabel smiled as her black cat fixed the archer with his bright green gaze, nodding. "Of course. I can't wait to meet the rest of you... Fine folk. I'll see you later, Vic."
"You're right to judge him like that, Solly. He's gross. Did you see his fingernails?" Isabel had laid out on her front on the long bench she had just been sitting on, staring at her companion. "How do you think he fires a bow like that? And I didn't see a muscle on him! Just bones and yellow teeth..." The young shaman swung herself around, sitting up once more, shaking her head. "I suppose he isn't the grossest person we've ever met..."
Solomon didn't dignify his owner with a response, though he did shift his head a little to the left, looking out across the small town. The pair were set up on a bench that the merchant caravan's boss had set out for Isabel while she was watching over their wagons. Admittedly, no one had tried to steal them, and likely couldn't unless they somehow managed to sneak some large beast of burden around, quietly hook them up to the wagon, and then manage to whisk the wagon away without anyone noticing, but still, it was her job now, and getting paid for what would otherwise be a free ride across Etruria suited Isabel's needs nicely. After all, after looking over the merchants' maps and routes, it seemed that they were going in roughly the same direction as her anyway...
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Jan 7, 2016 20:12:15 GMT -6
Loreley took her time, inspecting the work of the seamstress in front of her. The clothing here.It was so much finer than what she'd seen in Wake. Finer, as in finer materials. They'd had some skilled clothiers in Wake, but the materials here were all different. Why, she wondered? In the Isles, people were fond of furs, and leathers, but there were still weavers for fine cloth around her home, and the other cities and villages. Were they really that far behind the times? Uncivilized, as she'd seen the popular opinion of the Western Islands was throughout the lands. She didn't think so.
Her fingers lingered on a crimson fabric at the stall she was stopped at. Oh, she looked on at the fabric she was inspecting.... She could buy some of it.... She loved the deep burnt orange shades. She'd only seen colors like these on the wealthy or in the richer cities. She imagined herself in a dress of the stuff, back home in Wake. It would have made her the talk of the town. Singing and dancing across the floor there... ....
Being reminded of her home, and how her family and friends had decided to pick up and leave left an empty pit in her stomach. How she missed her little village and its quirks. Now they all had to make the best they could out of their new home. She let her hand drop away from the fabric in a resigned way and kept on moving through the town. She had no where to store such a purchase. Not with how much she liked to move around. She kept her belonging few and light precisely so she could go wherever the winds brought her. Still, it seemed a little sad to be working for this money, and then unable to enjoy it as she wished....
She was just killing time, for the most part. And seeing the city. She'd been around the Western Isles quite a bit, but everything here seemed new and fresh on the mainland. Later on tonight, the bodyguards for the caravan she'd signed on with would be meeting up for a small get together. A little feast? Either way, it seemed like a good tradition.
- - - - -
After a few more hours of walking and exploring, Loreley found herself heading to the meeting place. She slipped inside and looked around to spot Vic at a table with a few others. The man was a little on the greasy side, but she'd seen greasier. She looked around and saw that the people inside their meeting tavern were mostly townsfolk. Vic with his bow and the harness for his back quiver stood out somewhat. She realized that her own garments looked out of place as well.
She wore a loosely fitted shirt, and a pair of pants, both made of a sturdy material from her home islands. The pants were gathered together just under her knees. On her feet were a pair of sturdy leather shoes, though you could still see some nicks and scars around her ankles and on her shins. A leather strap with a little fur for ornamentation on it was worn across her chest, and carried a back rig to keep her bow in, while hanging her quiver at her side. Her hair was a little wild, but it was always a little wild. That's why she tied it so much of the time, a band of cloth around her head. At least she'd been able to make the rest of her somewhat neater. She was a lithe build from her years handling boats, and her tanned complexion immediately set her apart from most of the people in the tavern.
Oh... Well, that's mainlanders for you. Maybe I can come out of this seeming impressive and exotic! She glanced around, looking to see if anything exciting was going on. Was anyone doing music or dance here? Not seeing anyone right away, she made her way over to the rest of the group that was gathering at the table.
"Hey Vic. Is this the rest of the crew?" She glanced around the table, noting at least one very professional looking man among them. Well, as professional as you could look while you were downing a mug. Still, his armor looked cared for. Worn, but it certainly saw regular maintenance. "I... actually was expecting more people than this."
"Oh, here's Loreley. Don't worry. More are coming." Lore gave a little wave to the table as Vic spoke, angling a glance back over his shoulder and tossing a thumb towards her. She couldn't decide if he reminded her more of a mongoose or a weasel. "Come on and join us, Lore. We're just gettin started tonight."
"Alright. Don't mind if I do." Lore gave a quick smile to the rest of the table, before hanging her bow and quiver on a chair, and sliding into it. She crossed her arms over the table, feeling the grainy splintery wood on her arms. The tavern clearly wasn't the finest establishment, but it would do.
"What are we having?" She glanced around the table, focusing a little more on the mugs. Food would be a necessity, since she was already getting hungry. She wondered what sort of drinks the people in Etruria favored though.
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Post by Jya on Jan 7, 2016 21:32:18 GMT -6
"Thanks again, I really appreciate you letting me tag along," Jya bowed, the lance on her back pressing against her as she went through the motion. The merchant waved away her thanks with a smile of his own, showing one rather noticeable golden tooth.
"Don't mention it, you have to look out for others after all. Plus it just isn't safe for a lone girl to be traveling all by herself. I don't care how good you think you are with that lance, you're just only a lass!" he chuckled, waving away any complaints she was about to speak. The man looked about, making sure no one else overheard him as he leaned over.
"Between you and me, the games of yours are fun, but everyone else doesn't quite like losing so much of their money. Might make yourself a little scant, maybe go meet with the other freeloaders?" he laughed, obviously referencing the guards. It was in good humor and never meant any offense to their profession. With a nod of her head, she excused herself from the man's presence and began to stroll towards where she heard the guards were gathering. As soon as the girl managed to get enough distance, she held her hand to her chest and let out a deep sigh of relief. The other merchants were loaded and often played big in the games. However she knew the game was fixed and too her favor at that. The men were probably catching on at this point.
Even though that was a matter of concern, her mind was focused elsewhere. How had she ended up here? It was an exhausting thought, but it can be traced from being chased through half the continent. Traveling alone was even more dangerous, especially with people that have bounties on your head. So here she was now, dressed even lighter, only the basic of leather armor and her weapons stashed away. Her throwing knives were easy enough to keep close, but she only managed to hide away her blades in her rucksack along with her bow and arrow.
She was safer this way, at least that's what she told herself. They were looking for a master of the blade, not some wandering acrobat who knew only the basics of wielding a lance. Even still, it made her feel naked, even when she carried her belongings everywhere. Honestly her skills with the bow was much better than the lance, but a few of her trackers was taken down by her newfound aim. Surely word could've gotten out by now. Paranoid, that's how she been in recent years, all because she thought it was best for her friends. Perhaps that was a lie as well, it was best only for own survival.
After trekking through the camp, Jya brought herself to where the guards supposedly were gathered. Pausing for a moment, she looked unsure of how to approach. After another internal debate within herself, she approached the group with light steps and a bright smile. It had taken a good while to make sure her naturally light steps appear more floaty than actually stealthy. There were many things she had learned about not appearing like an assassin when one doesn't need it. Perhaps that was the greatest flaw in her fleeing the hunters. Her new approach gave her quite a bit of success so far.
"Nice to meet you all, sorta got kicked out of the merchs area after they lost so much in some little games," she chuckled lightly, trying to explain herself and at the same time settling down with the other guards. She tried to make herself seem a bit shy and uneasy, her body language getting one part naturally right.
"My name is Ayj," she introduced, trying to not come off as rude.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Jan 8, 2016 23:33:58 GMT -6
"So... Where did you say ya came from...?" Derick missed a step at the young man's question. Previously, he would have fervently avoided the question for fear of someone discovering his origins with the Bernese army. Few people admired a deserter, and being at odds with the might of Bern was a dangerous position to talk about. Bern was far behind him however, and the armor that had advertised his former position was now lost somewhere in the seas between his current position in Etruria and the Western Isles. In this instance, the question had tripped him up because he still had not thought of a suitable lie to replace his backstory.
"F-from the mainland..." Derick swallowed, willing himself to sound more credible. "I just returned from a tour in the Western Isles... Piracy's rampant, they're trying to reign it in a little bit." Derick had no idea who 'they' were in his hastily invented fiction, but the back of the young man's head bobbed up and down slightly as the young man nodded as if he knew exactly what Derick was talking about. "I see..."
The young man turned, walking backwards as he looked Derick over. As if seeing something funny, the young man's eyebrow raised and he bemusedly exclaimed, "It must have been quite the skirmish!" Derick nodded mutely, and allowed himself a rueful grin when the young man turned to walk forward again. His armor was a conglomerate of steel, leather, and traces of unidentified furs. His spear tip resembled a crude glaive, designed for slashing rather than piercing. It was the best he had been able to cobble together after losing his issued lance and armor to the ocean.
---
"Well, here it is! Etruria's finest merchants!" The young man spoke in a jesting tone that conveyed humility and pride. Having never seen a merchant caravan, Derick had no frame of reference to measure the young man's statement. Thus, the joke was lost on Derick as he met the other man's smirk with an uncertain smile.
The young man's smirk faltered -- he had been baiting a laugh. He settled the silence by extending his hand to Derick. "I'm Jamie, by the way...and...I-I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name already..." Derick turned to accept Jamie's greeting. Jamie looked to be in his late 30's, his face had a few of the creases that came with age, and his ginger-blond hair had thinned in the front, leaving two bald patches on the sides of his forehead. His thick arms and shoulders meant that he did a lot of heavy lifting, but his portly stomach betrayed him as a warrior. By Derick's guess, Jamie had been hired by the merchants to help with loading goods in between stops and when they were doing business.
Setting aside his thoughts, Derick took Jamie's hand and gave it a firm shake. "It's Derick."
---
The pair made their way past the caravan, Derick's head swiveled as he observed a parade of townsmen loading goods into one of the merchants' wagons. Jamie's thick, portly frame lead the way until the stopped near the town's center. "Well, Derick, thank ya for agreeing to help us out. I think Vic's got the rest of the guards over there for a get together of sorts." Jamie pointed to a tavern that townsfolk were entering and leaving at a steady clip. "See ya back at the camp!"
---
Derick peered through the crowd intently as he ducked into the tavern. His search for the other guards was frequently interrupted as he maneuvered the two-handed lance strapped to his back between tables, stools, and townspeople. At last, his eyes fixed on a muskrat-like man with a bow and quiver strapped to his back. Derick started working his way over toward the man, a slight frown formed as he inspected him further. His hair looked oily, and his stature lent itself more to being an infirmary patient rather than a mercenary commander. Derick's fears were confirmed as a girl's voice, a Western Islander judging by her appearance, cut through the crowd, addressing the man as 'Vic'.
Derick reached the party just as another woman spoke up, Derick noted the lance at her side and her athletic build as he slipped into a stool in the midst of the group. "Hi, Ayj." He addressed her as a friend, if a free mug had been on the table, he would have grabbed it to fit in more. "I'm Derick... Jamie found me wandering dazed on the coast and figured he'd bring me into the fold before I became fish food... " Derick smiled at the rest of the group, even Vic, but his confidence and smile faltered as he considered that he may have blustered into the wrong group. "Th-this is the guard detail for the merchant caravan just outside of town, r-right?"
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Isabel
Shaman
It's been far too long since I last flexed my magical muscles!
Posts: 233
Profession: Witch for Hire
Affiliation: N/A
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Izzy
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Post by Isabel on Jan 9, 2016 10:16:50 GMT -6
Three new faces and three new names to remember. The little sapphire witch sipped her cup of water, taking each of the three new arrivals in - Lore, the tanned girl; Ayj, the... All-too-familiar looking troublemaker; Derick, the lance-carrying blond boy. "Yes, that's us. Pleased to meet you all; my name is Isabel," she said, placing her cup in front of her on the edge of the already crowded table. She wished that Solomon could've been there for some comfort, but the black cat had stuck up his nose at the front door and slunk off into the night. The shaman was far beyond the stages of worrying about her companion, though; time after time Solomon had shown that he'd show up again before it was time to hit the road again.
Ayj... What kind of name is Ayj? There's something... Weirdly familiar about it. And that voice and that face... Where have I seen her before? Lost in thought, Isabel took a moment to realize that the young woman she was trying to figure out had sat down right next to her, prompting the blue girl to clutch her bag, full of tomes and other personal belongings, involuntarily. "S-so..." she started to speak up, turning her head to look at the dark-haired girl sitting next to her, but was (thankfully) cut off by Vic.
"What a lovely batch of new faces!" the greasy man beamed, flashing his yellow smile (and several missing teeth, now that Izzy looked closer). "I'm lookin' forward to working with you, Ayj and Derick! I sure hope you two can hold your own in a fight!" Vic laughed, taking a big gulp of whatever foul liquid was filling his mug (making his cheeks swell comically for a moment), before he leaned into the table, fixing each and every person sitting there with a wry grin. "'Course, between me and you... I kinda doubt we'll run into any trouble on the road. Not that it matters; we get paid regardless of whether we actually pull our weight or not!"
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Jan 9, 2016 20:26:05 GMT -6
Lore looked up at Vic from where she sat as he leaned in, and socked him hard on the arm. Archers could punch pretty hard when they had to, even if she didn't have much experience in anything more than a few bar brawls. Mostly dodging out of bar brawls.
"Hey! What about me?" Lore frowned as he leaned back and recoiled a little from her punch, spoiling his moment a little. "Happy to be working with them an not me?" In truth, Ayj and Derick both looked more the part of fighter than she felt. She'd done very little in the way of fighting. It wouldn't help to broadcast that to the others though.
"Ouch!" Vic frowned back at her, rubbing his arm where she'd hit him and "You too, Loreley... Hope your shooting is as good as your punch." Another voice laughed from across the table. The man in armor that Lore had noticed downing the mug earlier
"Hahaha.... Maybe we should bring ya up front wit the bruisers like me, Lass. I cannae believe that ya would do poorly along th' front o' th' battle lines. Not after that. The name's Kellen." In contrast to Vic, Kellen was a large man. He looked rough on the exterior, with a thick head of dreadlocks and a full beard. A tatoo could be seen scrolling down his right arm with various designs of beasts and terrain features mixed between a looping design. His armor was worn, but well cared for as near as she could tell, and she saw a large sword somwehere between a one hander and a two hander leaning against the wall nearby. It just seemed right to picture him wielding that. He was probably somewhere in his early thirties? Despite his rough exterior, his eyes looked sharp, and he clearly took much better care of himself than Vic did with his yellowed teeth and chipped nails.
"Pleasure to meet you all. And if we're drinkin' tonight, I'd say the local brew is acceptable enough." With the way Kellen spoke, it could make him hard to understand at times. She didn't know where it was from, but she'd heard his accent once or twice in the isles.
Loreley smiled, and looked around the table at all the people she'd just been introduced to again. "Well, just to make this official, I'm Loreley.... Or Lore, for short." She glanced around the table. Vic, Kellen, Derick, Isabel,... and the dark haired girl next to her was Ayj.
"What was this you said about fish food, Derick? That's pretty generous of them. How'd you get lost on the coast?" Lore was genuinely interested now. So many people with their stories to tell. She liked hearing people's tales. Sometimes she even had tried her hand at telling tales back home. That hadn't done well though. Her friends had said she needed more practice.
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Post by Jya on Jan 9, 2016 21:25:53 GMT -6
Yep, talking was good. It kept people focused on one another, a casual distraction, one that a thief loved to abuse. Traveling wasn't cheap, so she gathered her funds from the more fortunate. Her option was limited though, especially with a friend sitting next to her. To think Isabel was here... She didn't let her surprise show on her face though. It'll be too obvious and this was no time to cause a scene of any sort. Plus, what kind of monster would steal from their friends? It was almost offending for her to notice Izzy protecting her valuables.
Now Lore there was unfortunately not a friend. Jya didn't have an ounce of guilt stealing from strangers. The key is finding the perfect time and place for everything. The moment was crucial and the movement had to be both trained as well as fluid. When she had walked into the tavern, her rucksack was already placed before her feet, open and ready for any treasure.
"It's nice to meet you all," she chuckled lightly, saying their names out to confirm that she had been listening.
"Wow fish food, sounds rough," she commented from Derick's introduction.
"Well I'm more of a freeloader, I'm not much of a fighter, barely know how to use this lance to be honest. I'm only a simple acrobat," she casually lied with a shrug, glossing over any real details. Her goal wasn't to overshadow Derick's story, no she pushed herself aside so that the focus wouldn't be on her.
The moment Lore's distraction along with the other's, the archer would find her bad a bit lighter than before.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Jan 9, 2016 22:38:14 GMT -6
Derick lurched in his seat, the matter-of-fact reply came not from the group he was facing, but directly behind him. He used to the momentum of his shock to spin around on his stool, and nearly capsized before he stuck out his feet to catch himself. Derick felt his face flush as he met the eyes of the mage behind him. She was very... blue. Her eyes and her hair matched her clothes almost perfectly. She looked about the same age as himself, but she was a decent amount shorter than him, as he could tell even while they were sitting down.
"H-hi!... Sorry if I startled you... I wasn't expecting someone behind me..." Derick grinned crookedly and gave his head a brief shake, recollecting himself. "It's nice to meet you!" He said it in earnest, trying to salvage the conversation but her attention was already directed elsewhere. Derick turned toward the rest of the table, seeking another conversation partner, but it would be impossible to be heard over Vic's slurred, jovial voice.
Derick nodded and smiled politely at being recognized, and nodded confidently when his combat ability was questioned. His smile faltered the longer he looked at Vic, however. Vic's attempt at beaming was not pretty -- his dry lips peeled over his remaining teeth, and he almost looked like he was sneering. By the time Vic finished his diatribe on slacking, Derick's smile had faded into an irritated stare. Derick directed his glare at the table, away from the group, so that Vic wouldn't see it if he looked over. The man was a weasel, plain and simple...
A thud and a cry of pain snapped Derick out of his reverie. His demeanor brightened instantly at the prelude of a fight. His hand sought the haft of his lance instinctively, but it sank to his side as he assessed the situation. Fortunately, he still had reason to grin. The girl he had identified as a Western Islander earlier had punched Vic for failing to mention her as a comrade in arms. Anyone willing to hit that insufferable... man was worth befriending in his book. As Kellen introduced himself, Derick mentally added him to that same list of people worth befriending, and again wished for a drink.
"--Derick? That's pretty generous..." Derick refocused at the mention of his name. Being introduced to a group was difficult to begin with, the boisterous atmosphere of the tavern made it even harder to follow conversation as the evening crowd started to roll in. He met Loreley's eyes, taking a moment to appreciate their golden hue as he mentally replayed her question.
"Well...it's a bit of a long story...In summary, I visited the Western Isles with a friend of mine...We ran into some trouble with rival pirates..." Derick paused, frowning as he condensed the story further. "I got thrown overboard, kidnapped, knocked out, and woke up in a stupor among the driftwood on the coast of Etruria..." He smiled humorlessly, he had gone to such lengths to escape Etruria the last time that he had gone through the Nabata desert. A cheer across the tavern pulled Derick from his thoughts, he looked to Loreley again, perceiving her garb. "Pardon the presumption... but you almost look like you're from the Western Isles yourself. Is that true?"
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Jan 13, 2016 14:29:31 GMT -6
Lore listened with interest as the blond haired man started telling his story. The wide variety of armor that his gear was made up of remjnded her of home a little. It looked like plenty of equipment that the fighting men around the isles would employ. Fairly quickly she found herself surprised. Not by the tale as much as by his openness about it. Rival pirates? What crew did he belong to? Lore looked him over to see identifying marks, but could see none. She probably wouldn't have been able to identify any marks anyways. There were numerous pirate crew in the isles, the smaller ones always changing.
Thrown overboard, kidnapped, knocked out, and awoke. Beware the pirates which Mother spoke. Gypsies on waters like saphires so fair. Sometime to leave you without guilt or care.
A little rhyme whipped up in her head as she heard his story, but she dismissed it quick enough. It wasn't very good, and she wasn't here to tell stories to these people.
"You're pardoned." Loreley quipped back, a small smirk lighting up her face as she fixed her eyes on Derick. "However, if looked like I was almost from the Western Isles, wouldn't that mean I'm almost from the Western Isles?"
"You're right though: I grew up on the Isles." Loreley stopped herself before continuing. Was she supposed to be this open about who she was with this group? She hadn't really said anything yet.... Maybe she'd let the others set the tone here. "It sounds like you found your favorable wave with that story though, Derick."
She looked back to the other two. An acrobat who admitted to barely knowing her weapon, and.... Isabel hadn't actually said much about herself yet. "What about you, Isabel? You haven't said much yet." The blond haired archer waved over a server and ordered a small meal and a mug of the local brew to pass the time with.
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Isabel
Shaman
It's been far too long since I last flexed my magical muscles!
Posts: 233
Profession: Witch for Hire
Affiliation: N/A
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Izzy
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Post by Isabel on Jan 17, 2016 19:57:15 GMT -6
Isabel was content to simply sit back and sip water while the others talked, mulling over their respective stories. The acrobat Ayj's tale was fishy at best, and combined with the fact that the young woman couldn't help but feel like she knew the dark-haired girl from somewhere... Something wasn't quite adding up there. Derick's tale of pirates and bad luck was entertaining for the moment he presented it, but it almost seemed like he was in a rush to get it out and over with. And then there was this Lorely girl was...
Isabel choked on her drink for a moment, not really expecting the conversation to turn to her. She coughed a few times before wiping her mouth with the hem of her blue cloak, doing her best to laugh off her little blunder. "You want to know about me? I'm nothing special. Just a wandering mage who hails from this soil - Etruria." Not entirely true, but her background wasn't something she was particularly keen on dwelling on. Her thoughts drifted to her brother and sister; how were they doing? It seemed like ages since she had last seen them... The sapphire witch shook her head to clear her mind, flashing a smile at everyone seated. "... Oh, he's not here right now, but I have a companion. His name is Solomon. He likes to think he's better than everyone, which is probably why he didn't want to come in and meet everyone, but... Well, you should all be able to meet him in the morning before we head out at the latest."
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Post by Jya on Jan 17, 2016 20:55:10 GMT -6
Plans often seem to go the very wrong way. At least it hadn't blown back in her face quite literally. The conversation distracting Lore didn't last nearly long enough, so even when her hand was inches from slipping into her belongings, she had to retreat. A few gold coins wasn't worth losing your hand over. Well that's if they manage to catch her, but her policy of going for lower risk theft had kept her out of most trouble.
"Western Isles? That's pretty far off," she casually commented to show that she was listening to the whole conversation. The only experience there was being chased into a city full of rather rough criminals. With all things considered, perhaps she should've fit right in. Sadly, her lack of experience with dealing with other criminals and connections made making a living impossible. It was nice there, when one wasn't worrying about being mugged.
Taking a coin out of her pockets, she began to roll it back and forth between her knuckles. It was a way to keep her hands to herself, especially when there wasn't much to do. Relatively speaking, there wasn't anything her sticky fingers can do at the moment.
"Solomon can take on anyone I'm sure, that cat knows how to handle himself," Jya chirped up, realizing her mistake far too late. She kept her appearance as casually as possible, providing everyone with an innocent grin. Hopefully the comment would go over most people's head. Now if Izzy found out...hopefully her cover wouldn't be blown. Also she hoped the shaman would forgive her for the whole arena fiasco.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Jan 18, 2016 21:23:53 GMT -6
Judging by the raising eyebrows of his new colleagues, Derick surmised that he had perhaps been a little hasty in his retelling of events. It was always difficult to perceive how much you should reveal when introducing yourself to strangers. Derick shrugged the thought off, if they were all working together there would likely be more conversation during their nighttime vigils anyway.
Derick was brought directly back into the conversation by receiving a pardon from Loreley. He smiled triumphantly as he anticipated guessing her heritage correctly, it seemed that the pirate's garb had given some indication of Western Isle fashion. Her next quip caught him completely off-guard. His eyes widened in panic, and his mouth dropped agape. "S-sorry, I didn't m-mean to--ah..." Derick's stuttering trailed off, indicating that no cohesive thought would be reaching his mouth for another minute. With perfect timing, the barmaid dropped off a fresh round of drinks. Derick reached for a mug as a drowning man would for a life preserver, but Loreley rescued him instead by dropping her bluff. Derick felt his cheeks flush as he smiled, chuckling at his own expense. "Eheh...Educated g-guess..." Derick tapped one of his leather pauldrons, intending to draw attention to the similarities between he and Loreley's wardrobes.
As the rest of the group continued to talk, Derick took a moment to investigate the drink in front of him. He sniffed it, wincing at the musk it gave off, but took a long swig out of it anyways, as he had seen many of the other patrons do. It was awful. Derick grimaced, but forced himself to swallow. Noting the amusement of several patrons nearby, Derick sullenly set the mug down and coolly decided that he would observe rather than participate tonight.
The tavern was becoming more crowded as the sun set. Derick shifted on his stool, taking a moment to take in his surroundings. The townspeople themselves were a point of interest. Many of them were clothed similar to civilians Derick had seen while he was evading guardsmen in Badon. Yet, there weren't nearly enough of them for a port town tavern. An equal portion of the tavern's occupants were farmers of some sort, judging by their soil-stained clothes. Derick closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to recall arriving at the town. He and Jamie had traveled for a decent stretch of time, and he hadn't recalled seeing docks behind them when they left from the beach. Derick also recalled a forest looming on the horizon as they approached the town. A coastal town, but not a major trade hub, just a gathering place where people of the sea met the people of the land.
Derick absentmindedly rose the mug he was holding to his lips again. One whiff of its contents brought Derick back to his senses and he immediately set it back down. The tavern's mood gradually became more festive as the crowd swelled and drinks flowed at a greater pace. The noise was intensifying as well, making hard to hear. Derick could have sworn he heard the other lance wielder in their entourage referred to another member who had yet to arrive as 'a cat'. Bracing himself, Derick forced a small sip of the vile liquid in his mug down his throat. Cats were solitary creatures...a mercenary with a devil-may-care attitude...a loner who looks out for himself...it matched up with Isabel had said. Derick winced as he swallowed the muddy-colored substance and nodded knowingly, he had known a man like that once.
"It'll be nice to meet him, I bet he's a pretty good fighter!" Derick's voice was tinged with admiration as he turned to face Isabe, he was more than a little enamored with the mental image he had constructed. Derick distinctly heard Vic guffaw over the noise of the tavern, but Derick paid it no mind. The weasel was probably just jealous of Solomon. "What sort of weapons does he use?"
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Isabel
Shaman
It's been far too long since I last flexed my magical muscles!
Posts: 233
Profession: Witch for Hire
Affiliation: N/A
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Izzy
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Post by Isabel on Jan 20, 2016 16:46:43 GMT -6
... Okay, there was a 65% chance that "Ayj" was "Jya" backward. Isabel stared at the so-called "acrobat" for a moment, frowning. "Yes... Well, Solomon is..." the young mage started, but faded off before she really went anywhere with that thought.
The young woman put the cup of water to her mouth again, sipping it while Derick made his comments. She smirked at the 'good fighter' line. It was as if he didn't... Realize that... Oh my god he legitimately doesn't realize that Solomon is a cat. The shaman's face lit up at this sudden realization, beaming at the blond-haired young man. "Oh, Solomon is an okay fighter, I suppose. He isn't actually a huge fan of it, but when he has to, he wields these super sharp claws." She giggled. "Though there was a time where I found he'd bitten someone he was fighting. It was gross!"
She really hoped that she hadn't said anything that would... Let the cat out of the bag. She giggled a little to herself at the pun, but another quick sip of water killed the laughter. Izzy couldn't stop grinning, though. The whole scenario was just... So silly. How long could she keep this up? If she managed to keep Derick convinced that Solomon was a cat for at least the first day on the road, that would be impressive. But in the meantime... Isabel moved back from the table, her cup of water still in her hands, watching the other people at the table; more than content to just sit back until she was bothered again.
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Loreley
Archer
A sailor lass with a powerful namesake from the Western Isles at the start of her adventures.
Posts: 72
Profession: Sailing Adventurer
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Loreley on Jan 22, 2016 22:20:51 GMT -6
"It is" Lore's comment went to Ajy. "Thought I've crossed a continent now. It's no further to the isles than it is to Bern, or any other of the nations on the other side of the world from here." She was half explanatory, and half flippant. Traveling so much so fast tended to make the world feel smaller, she was discovering.
Lore turned her head a little and smirked, giving a sidelong look at Derick. She was a little amused at his awkwardness. It was a little adorable how quick his face turned red. Her own face blushed a little bit. She'd not meant to embarrass him. He seemed to be indicating his own armor and garb as why he'd caught on she was an Islander. It was true that Islander leathers and farbrics were rougher than many she'd seen on the mainland. She'd been noting it herself just earlier that day. It still seemed a little unreliable to pinpoint her on though. More likely it was her skin color mixed with the look of her gear. He might be picking up on some mannerisms too. She wasn't above admitting to herself that she couldn't really blend in that well....
"Hah... Dun't worry, Lad." Kellen spoke up, giving Derick an incongruously light punch on the shoulder with his well muscled arms. "Give it a few more years an you'll have either deadened your tastes, or grown an appreciation for it." He smiled and gave a small bark of a laugh. "Perhaps both!"
Lore took a swig of the mug she'd had brought over to her as well, and turned her eyes down to look at the drink. It wasn't... awful by her standards. It just wasn't something she would want to spend much time drinking. Hmm... Pity.
She was swept up in the description of this Solomon that would be joining them. It seemed to have brought Isabel out of a quiet mood too, so he couldn't be all bad. She revised her opinion of him a little when she heard that he bit in fights. That seemed a little odd and disconcerting.... She'd bite if she had to get, but it wasn't something you thought of in a man. Claws.... Were those like gauntlets to go on arms? Or gloves? It was awe inspiring, but a little terrifying too.
"Is he... safe to travel with?" Lore asked, thinking about the biting... That sounded like something a madman would do.
Something else pulled away at her mind suddenly. A beat. A strong drum beat, started from across the room that had been growing noisier all along, and started thumping. She smiled by reflex, and felt as though it was breathing a little life into her. Somewhere over there, a player started playing a lively tune on a flute and she watched as the townsfolk gathering with the travelers started grouping up and clearing a space out in the center. A dance floor! Ohh... She loved parties and celebrations!
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Post by Jya on Jan 23, 2016 11:56:51 GMT -6
This was turning out to be a wonderful lively party, far more entertaining then interacting with those merchants. Not to say she disliked the other men, it was simply the matter of personal tastes. Jya had traveled for most her life and not in the safe kind. So adventure isn't an unfamiliar subject, much more understandable than politics or marriage talks. The simple lighthearted raucous made for wonderful background noise, lifting up her mood further.
She took a gulp of her drink, finding it a bit too watered down and bland for her tastes. Not that it can be helped and she was never picky with her food or drinks. She'll eat practically anything edible with all that in mind. It seemed that her comment about Solomon flew right past everyone's head, which was great with all things considered. None of them took it past a casual comment as she had hoped. Well at least not on the surface.
Though Izzy's comments were a bit perturbing along with the other's responses to Solomon. Looking over at the girl and back at the other guards, she couldn't help, but thing there was a reason. Well it wouldn't do to sit impassively... She can make the excuse that she had met Solomon beforehand, on her way here even.
"I think he's safe when I met him, but I really can't read his mind. He doesn't seem like the type to snap, guess you never know for sure unless it happens," she tried pointing out, not to frighten the others, but more along the lines of being vague. It was also true that she found the cat unpredictable, especially the part of not being able to read his mind.
"He doesn't seem to like most people too much, from his expressions I mean," she continued, probably not helping the matter anymore nor trying to clear any misunderstanding. Izzy had a reason for all this, right? Jya always helped out her friends when she could.
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