Ulai
Myrmidon
Nothing to be done.
Posts: 37
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Ulai on Nov 7, 2016 18:19:02 GMT -6
The night was dark in Badon, though the city did its part to keep light, houses and taverns kept candles or lanterns in their windows, some even hanging whale oil lanterns from the sides of buildings. Still, the night was dark, and could easily hide the subtle movements of a young Nabatan man who moved with the purposeful grace of a cat on the hunt. Of course, it was how he always walked, regardless of purpose, his gait had a swagger to it that he had invented and imposed upon himself the first time he had taken up the sword. If he moved like a man with all the confidence in the world, surely he would grow to posses it. There was a surplus of arrogance after all, and why should the son of an Oasis girl let others soak it all up?
He padded along through the street, making little noise compared to the few heavy Lycians that passed him by. Many were so inebriated that he doubted they even saw him, those that did would not care to stop and speak with him, few Lycians longed to stop and chat with a tall broad shouldered Nabatan, armed and clearly heading somewhere important. Especially in the dark. If they'd stopped to chat they might have learned that he was a reasonably nice fellow, with an easy smile and a sharp wit. At least, he liked to think so. His mother had told him he was special often enough.
The city was beautiful, if it did often smell like fish. The docks were a sight to behold, massive, seemingly always filled with ships of various size. Truly, the boy born in the desert and raised among the grassy knolls of south Eastern Etruria, was always welcome to the sight of the ocean. Though it was far away, and covered in the dark of night, Ulai knew that if he only walked a bit further than his destination, he would find himself there, looking out at the waves of salty water that could bring life anew or tear the city asunder on a whim. To him, the sea seemed a lovely opportunity, that could also kill you in an instant, and that was as beautiful as any sky or mountain was in its certainty.
Before long, he found himself there, the place he'd been told would offer him a job that could keep him fed for a week. A tavern called The Tilting Maiden. The sign hung over the door below a lantern, and presented an overflowing tankard with a lance across it, a maiden's favor tied to the lance just below the head. Ulai opened the door a sliver, and slid through it sideways, shutting it softly behind him. Only those closest to the door turned to look at him, and though a few of their looks turned dirty upon seeing a foreign face, they quickly looked back to their drinks or companions.
With the same confidence he had shown to no one on the street, Ulai sauntered to the bar, and flashing a smile at the maiden behind it said, "I'm here to speak with Arias." The young woman's eyes flashed, and she simply nodded and hurried out from behind the bar. She hustled over to a door that looked like it should have been to the kitchen, and motioned him through, whispering, "Just down the hallway." Ulai nodded and gave her a tight smile as a thank you. The code was silly, no one he'd ever met working in the mercenary business was named Arias. It was ridiculous to think that anyone a stranger would speak to in a back room about something on the up and up would have a name one sound away from Alias.
When Ulai stepped through this door, all eyes turned to be on him. The closest bodies to his own were two men, who made way for him to enter the room. One was a half head shorter than he, portly, bald, and with a morning star hanging at his side. The other was a thin man about Ulai's height, who had a stave on his hip. Interesting. As Ulai passed the pair, he surveyed the rest of the room. It was a low turnout for what promised to be such a high paying job. The room was huge, lined with stone on the walls, and hard packed dirt beneath their feet. Bottled of win lined one long wall, and cask of ale were everywhere. In total, there were only about fifteen men in the room upon Ulai's entry, and as he began to survey them, he didn't know whether or not he was out of his happy go lucky keep his neck out of too serious trouble element.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 7, 2016 19:25:20 GMT -6
One could hardly blame the common folk for distrusting mercenaries when they gathered in the dark of night, met with riddles shrouded in secrecy cloaked in an enigma, and plotted horrible deeds far away from prying eyes and ears. Was he signing up for a job, or a massacre? Most of the people here didn't look like the kind of cutthroats and bandits he had a tendency to avoid, but he didn't doubt that a few of them would gut him in a heartbeat if offered enough coin. Men did great and terrible things out of greed - not that he was one to judge. Asura had his own ironclad code... and yet here he was, ready to spill blood in search of coin. Of course, he only accepted jobs that were at least somewhat upright, or preyed on those who deserved it, but it did much to weaken any moral superiority he might have. A hero wouldn't kill for gold. A hero would only kill for that which was right, and he was no hero. Just another asshole with a sword.
But not just another sword.
As usual he had a death grip on the demonic blade, unwilling to let it out of his sight. Not out of fear, he'd seen what it did to people who drew it without having the right, but out of responsibility. He was the last of the Indra - the last guardian of the blade - and so it was his duty to protect it. The irony of that was partially but not entirely lost on him given what it had done to his clan, directly or indirectly. He didn't much care for the room though. It was sizable, but extreme close-quarters combat was somewhat problematic with the length of his sword; either he used the smaller blade or adapted. Not that he was expecting to use it down here. But it never hurt to be prepared. Better to think ill of others within the confines of his own mind than to lie face down in a ditch somewhere.
And really, when you thought about it, if people could only pleasantly surprise you, that made for a very happy sort of life, right? It was like a unique brand of optimism! Yep that sounded exactly like him, just a bubbling font of glee and joy.
As his thoughts delved ever deeper into the depths of dumbassery, Asura scanned the room again, noting that the number of mercs showing up had dwindled enormously. He'd been among the first batches, now there had barely been one or two in the last ten minutes, some man-bear with a mace - or one of those blunt smashing weapons anyways - and a red-headed fool who'd shown up even later than the rest. Hm. As ever, ascertaining the actual skill of another fighter was difficult without crossing blades, but he at least... looked like somewhat of a fighter. Or a novice out of his depth. Who knew? In the end it didn't matter. They would find out who was a warrior and who was a cur the only way that mattered, in blood and steel, and in the meantime all he could do was ensure he at least could pull his weight. Nodding curtly to the redhead, Asura turned back to the eternal siren song of mercenary life, the hallowed phrase of 'hurry up and wait.'
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Ulai
Myrmidon
Nothing to be done.
Posts: 37
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Ulai on Nov 8, 2016 16:13:03 GMT -6
By one dashing swordsman's estimation, there were about thirteen minutes between his entrance and the entrance of the next mercenary, a tall man with a hatchet slung across his back. Then there were another four minutes of silence. Then Ulai spoke up, "Are we all equally uncomfortable? Because... this is a real weird silence we've got going."
For the most part there was silence after that, then a slight man gave Ulai a curt chuckle, then approached him, clapping his shoulder. "Jitters kid, what're you gonna do?" The man smiled at him again, he had a calming smile, like a father. Not that Ulai would actually know what a father's smile was like, but if those smiles were a good thing, he'd have to guess it was a lot like this mans. A sword hung at the man's hip, one of completely unfamiliar make to the Nabatan swordsman, but there it rested with a certain confidence. "You have any clue what we're here for?
Ulai grinned, and said, "I haven't the slightest idea." At that there were actually a few laughs throughout the room, and the healer by the door approached the pair of swordsmen, and said, "All I know is that we're apparentl'uh gettin' paid more'n I've made in my last three jobs combined." A general chatter broke out before the door opened a final time, and a man in a gray coat with a black fur lining walked in, followed by a short bald man with a hooked nose. A hush fell over the room.
The man in the cloak began walking through the crowd of assembled mercenaries. His smile was broad and friendly, but not dadlike. "Alright, let's begin. My name is not Arias, as I'm sure you all assumed. My name, let's say we're keeping it a secret. I'm a man who must operate in the light, and what you gentlemen will be doing tonight reflects the darkness of our times.
I am sure you are all well aware of the prevalence of organized crime in Badon. If you have not experienced it first hand, then doubtless you have heard of it. Tonight, your are going to break into the home of one of the most powerful men in the Lycian Underworld, Yego the Fox. Your goal is to break into his study, and attempt to find a letter, a letter that contains proof of Yego's working with the Marquess of Pherae. There will be resistance, but as long as you return, I have word from my friend the Marquess Badon that any means you must go to will be excused. My aide will show you in to the man's home by the servant's entrance. You will be payed Seventy silver pieces, and ten gold. Any questions?"
There were a few minutes of silence before Ulai raised his hand and asked, "So then? We all get that? All of us are getting that much?" The man's smile thinned but he nodded. Ulai settled in, and then a bit of worry did as a few more questions were thrown around. He'd heard of the Fox, never his name, but he knew of the Fox. Not usually a guy you got on the wrong side of.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 29, 2016 7:22:27 GMT -6
Getting used to merc squads NOT composed entirely of Indra was still a bit strange to him. It wasn't something he wanted to admit, or liked in general, but it was the truth, and so he had to face it. Merc work was a lot more pleasant when you could actually trust the fighter at your side, had grown up knowing them since childhood. He had enjoyed it just fine, but it was a little... jarring to think that he had been almost happy at the time. Maybe someday he'd master the skill of making friends with everyone he met. Right around the time that he wasn't carting around a sword that attracted trouble in the wake of his entire clan dying and him having all the friendliness of a wounded grizzly. He heard the chatter around him, but didn't really see anything worth contributing, so he didn't.
Besides, good Arias here had given them all plenty to think about. So they were to be hatchet men, infiltrating a criminal boss's manor to blow the lid off of some shady politics. That was a little... bigger scale than he was used to, admittedly. Usually Asura tried to stay away from anything political. Too much possibility for things to go wrong, and even just casual conversation about it quickly turned into a hotbed of anger when people disagreed. The Bernese rebellion, Kraft, Ilia, Lycia's countless little wars... he didn't see much good that had come of any of it.
This whole thing sounded like some idealistic hogwash on the surface and deeper below alike, though. Asura wasn't really in the habit of trusting people in the first place, but this all sounded WAY too convenient and... good. Morally right. Bad guys, good guys, and no problems in sight. Which WAS the problem. He'd have been a lot more optimistic if Arias had just said they were going to have to fight half the Pheraen army or the criminal underworld; when your employer tried to downplay the risks, that usually meant they were a lot worse than you actually wanted to deal with.
But... at the same time, he had heard tales of Pheraen swordsmanship, archery... it did sound sort of interesting. Maybe if they were lucky they'd get to fight someone who actually knew how to use their sword. He didn't much like admitting this either, but Asura had been... drifting the past few months. Not entirely certain what to do. Where to go. How to awaken the demon blade. He had witnessed its strength, but not been able to awaken it himself. Not since that day. Maybe a little extra danger would do the trick.
Or maybe he just needed to feed it a lot of blood.
Mostly ignoring that sordid thought, the taciturn swordsman cleared his mind of the distractions,crossed his arms, and spoke up nonetheless, ignoring the discussion of pay since it didn't matter much to him. "What do you know of his relationship with Pherae? Is there a possibility of Pheraen interference? Reinforcements?" His wording was carefully neutral, but there was a... very slight undertone of interest tinging his tone nonetheless. Asura didn't bother adding any setting to those questions though, not particular concerned if people thought he was a battle-hungry lunatic, a craven coward, or anything in between. All that mattered was the information 'Arias' offered... and what could be gleaned by what he chose not to share. Sometimes the truth was only evident in its own absence.
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Ulai
Myrmidon
Nothing to be done.
Posts: 37
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Ulai on Dec 19, 2016 17:59:32 GMT -6
The man of means continued to field the questions which were tossed to him, and maintained his calm demeanor. He addressed the amount of resistance they could find, the matter of escape, what the documents would contain, all sorts of issues brought up by the mercenaries quickly dissected and thrown aside. Then the tall swordsman from the plains raised a question, picking at the herring of Pherae, and what could be expected from that arena. He smiled, his clean teeth shining in the dark cellar, "Well. According to my little birds there are have been no operatives from Pherae moving within the city in the last two weeks. The relationship appears parasitic, the Marquess needs some business done against another Marquess, and the Fox sees it done. If trade needs to be disrupted, the Fox breaks the line. If the defenses of a city need weakening, the Fox tears at the barricade. The Fox is a man of far too much power, and to expose this relationship would weaken him and the standing of Pherae. The count of men within his house will not be larger than thirty, you have my word."
As the man gave the number, Ulai quickly turned and looked about the little group. There were roughly nineteen of them. Nineteen, if his math was correct, was not as much as thirty. It was less than even. If his time as a Mercenary with a company had taught him anything, it's that generally you wanted to have more men than the enemy. Well, Ulai'd faced worse odds. Maybe, he wasn't to good at Math. The gentleman in his robes clapped his hands and said, "If there are no questions, my aide may show you to the entrance, and your good fight may begin." He raised an eyebrow and looked over the men.
As the mercenaries filed out and made their way creeping through the alley, Ulai went to the side of the white haired swordsman and said, "I think he likes you better than me. Your question was a lot more business sensical. I'm Ulai, by the way."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2016 1:13:11 GMT -6
Far too much power.
See, that bothered him more than it assuaged his concerns. Asura didn't work for the greater good. He didn't try to save the world, or get the girl, and live happily ever after. He just wanted to get paid and go home, or, well, he didn't actually have a home anymore so that was actually kind of a moot point, but he could always go glare angrily at a wall while polishing his sword.
Asura decided that he probably needed to stop thinking before he found entirely new ways to ruin everything in his head.
Anyways, the point was that 'Arias' was full of crap and not trustworthy, and he had spent too much time explaining just how dangerous the Fox was to sweep it all away with the equivalent of 'but it's not a big deal haha' as he had tried to. There were perhaps twenty men in the room at best, he wasn't actually going to bother counting them, but the difference in numbers didn't bother him too much. If anything, Asura felt his pulse quicken a bit. He didn't mind being outnumbered. He had tried to awaken the Demon Blade every way he could think of already, well, short of suicide anyways, and none had worked. So it was high time he start thinking up some better solutions, and if he had learned anything as a product of the Indra, pushing someone beyond their limits was the best way to facilitate growth. So being outnumbered was actually a great idea... with the minor caveat that he had to survive for it to be worthwhile.
Nearby motion and intent of some sort lightly jolted Asura's attention before a younger voice grabbed it, the group moving out towards their dark deed and the potential of some worthwhile growth for once. The Sacaen sellsword regarded the younger(?) redhead for a moment, taking him in; it was... difficult to tell the man's age, but it couldn't have been much older than him at most, and he had a lighter touch to his tone than the stereotypical gruff mercenary type that Asura had so much experience with. Honestly, he felt like a less experienced merc, perhaps not yet broken by what they did or perhaps too strong to be broken. Hm. Time would tell which was which. Nonetheless, he was willing to be friendly, and while Asura wasn't exactly Elibe's bro of the year, he didn't especially dislike others, much less those sworn through swords in the same profession as him.
The man's attempt at conversation was a bit off though, in how it framed the situation at least. Not the mark of a complete idiot. But maybe more idealistic, or optimistic, than Asura thought was likely in reality, spurring a response. "He doesn't care about any of us, or he wouldn't be sending us off to die." The young scion of the Indra managed a wry smile nonetheless, if only to punctuate his followup. "-So it's up to us to keep each other alive." If anything 'Arias' would probably prefer that only one of them came back alive, to have to pay as few people as possible; he only cared that the job get done. "Name's Asura." Getting a better hold of his scabbard on the right, Asura trained more of his attention to the redhead on his left, more comfortable around other mercs in general but also acutely aware that he preferred to at least be on good terms with the people whose blades he was about to be relying on for his life, even if only indirectly. He wasn't exactly the charming type, but when he didn't have to be in full combat mode, he did enjoy interacting with his peers. It wasn't the same as the Indra he had known since childhood, but... it was something human. "Here's to both of us making it through this."
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Ulai
Myrmidon
Nothing to be done.
Posts: 37
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Ulai on Jan 2, 2017 14:51:18 GMT -6
The mercenaries made little noise as they trailed through the alleyways of Badon, but they still produced the muffled noise that always accompanied the dogs of war. Heavy boots hitting the ground, swords in scabbards slapping thighs, and armor shifting against the other pieces in a set could not play silently. Ulai however didn't make a sound. He'd always been light on his feet, and like most sand dancers each movement he made was purposeful. While the others took great care to walk slowly, Ulai gave the matter little thought, and bounced on the balls of his feet with each step that he took. His shoulders swung with each step, as his feet made a perfect line, each leg crossing in front of the other.
When the Sacaen swordsman answered Ulai, the young Nabatan grinned. "Oh of course. He's just ambivalent to me slightly more. If I happen to not come back, he'll barely notice, he'll feel a twang of guilt at the loss of that sharp head on your shoulders if you don't turn up at the end of things." Suddenly the merchant's valet made a sharp turn up ahead, and the mercenaries all grumbled as they went. Ulai kept his smile wide as he hooked a left around the corner, and looked up to find that they'd already managed to fine their way into the wealthier part of town. They must have been drawing nearer.
"We should ohwl be tryin' ta get back," the healer had apparently overheard Asura, and broke into the conversation. "'Sides not dyin' I shurre as hell want ta be in with that rans'm they're payin' out fer us." Ulai smiled at him and continued his thought for him, "I get you on that my friend. I can never seem to keep up on coin when I get it, hopefully I can live like a king for a few days after this." And if it looked like he couldn't live at all, he could always slip through the cracks.
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