Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2017 19:00:06 GMT -6
Nightingale set about cleaning the tabletops. The night was dragging to an end and the last of the customers were leaving for the night. Were the stories about Remi true? It seemed ridiculous to question it at this point, Etruria had been invading everyone as of late, let alone their older history.
"Oh, Nightingale, a man left some flowers for you... again."
Nightingale turned to her coworker ready to complain before she recognized the envious look she was receiving. "Was it Jack again?"
"No, surprisingly, someone new this time. You really should give them a chance one these days, you won't have those looks forever... and if you're taken you may leave some room for the rest of us?" she offered a propositional shrug as she said this.
Nightingale audibly groaned to this, "Look, Jane, I am not looking for men, and if you really want one of them, how about being a bit more aggressive?" She proposed in turn.
"Not looking, oh, I see, I did not realize, though that would make sense."
"Wait, what?" Nightingale was not sure what impression the girl had just gotten about her and she would not have time to find out as the front door chimed. Two rugged men entered the tavern, one seemed fine but the other stumbled over his own feet. They had clearly been drinking already.
"'Scuse me gentlemen, but the tavern is closed for the night." The two looked at one another in mock disbelief.
"Closed for the night? Bulls***! I ain't ever heard of a tavern that closes at night, have you?"
"Can't say that I have mate," The other confirmed.
"So, I want a big mug." The more sober one nodded with a cocky smile, his mouth half agape.
Nightingale was about to argue when she took notice of their sleeves. "Etrurians?" The symbol on their arms were clear. "You were at Remi then?"
"Yeah, that's right, we were." The front man strutted up closer with a hand on his sword's pommel. "Glad you know what we're capable of. Now, about that mug?"
"Sit wherever you want," Nightingale pointed to the table she had just cleaned. "We will be right back." Nightingale pulled her coworker along to the back as the two men got comfy.
"What do we do?" Her coworker asked.
"We do our jobs, but, I won't let them leave on their terms."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see," Nightingale smiled wryly as she set to making their drinks with a, unique, blend.
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Jericho
Myrmidon
'He had it coming.'
Posts: 2
OoC Alias: Blueberry
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Post by Jericho on Apr 16, 2017 19:57:29 GMT -6
The would be bard came across a welcome sight as he wandered. A tavern that was still open. Silently, he began to wander in until the 'disagreement' could be heard from outside. Now Jericho wasn't exactly caught up on reality anymore, caught up in his own web of tall tales and stories of a fake legend walking around and being hero. His own ventures, only spun more magnificently and with more detail. Now to see what he was getting himself into...
A covered hand ever so slightly nudged the door open enough to peek inside and spot the two haughty soldiers. Yeah, he could totally take the two of them, especially if he could get the jump to make it a 1 on 1. Ah, but the story needed to sound better. There should be... 20! Yes, 20 sounded more like the proper amount of threatening. 20 well trained Etrurian soldiers here, using intimidation to force the fair maidens of... He leans back to check the sign of said tavern. Frosty Avalanche. Who names these places? In any matter, 20 well trained soldiers using a show of force to intimidate the fair maidens of Frosty Avalanche. And the hero today would be...
Jericho looks around his immediate surroundings, spotting out a horse, as well as a currently smoldering forge. Yes, the hero would be a valiant knight, atop a magnificent white stallion, wielding an axe forged so well that it gleamed in the pale moonlight. He would stick to the usual story of it being a blue-haired noble, as people seemed to like the stories with them in it the most. And yet, caught up in his daydreaming, Jericho didn't notice his added pressure to the door forcing it to swing on open and deposit the white-haired man face-first onto the ground in front of the tavern occupants. Yeah, that'll definitely need to be edited out.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2017 22:00:41 GMT -6
The two soldiers were chatting about their feats at the battle of Fort Remi boisterously with the intent of making sure the two women in the back could hear them. It was to serve as both taunts and a threat. The two were also quite keen on the women's assets. "So, what do you want more? The slim figure and pretty face or the bigger bits?"
"Ignore them," Nightingale was used to the harassment and continued to work furiously. Jane was helping however she was needed but was visibly confused as she did so.
"Uh, what are we making exactly? These drinks are, ya know, in barrels."
"That is because I am going to poison them." Nightingale stated plainly. Jane looked at her in confusion for a moment and them a hint of fear when she realized she was serious. "If they think they can threaten us and invade without some sort of push-back well, they have another thing coming."
It was then they heard the chime of another patron entering the tavern. "Can you go check on that? I am almost done." Nightingale requested in a tone that warranted no refusal.
"Uh... y-yeah," Jane scurried out to the front in a terrified hurry. Were the soldiers worse or Nightingale?
There was a chiming followed by a thump! "What the?" One of the soldiers looked over by the door and began to laugh. "And here I thought we were drunk eh? That one there can't even walk!" The two began to enjoy a hearty laugh as Jane came out from the back. Oh dear.
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Jericho
Myrmidon
'He had it coming.'
Posts: 2
OoC Alias: Blueberry
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Post by Jericho on Apr 16, 2017 22:19:15 GMT -6
Okay, not your most graceful of entrances, buddy. Even still, the soldiers provided him with just the sort of cover he needed. Surely a drunkard should seem as no threat to them, yes? And so, Jericho did his best fake staggering as he got up, half walking, half stumbling in the general direction of the pair.
"Uh... hey. You lads got a coupla spare gold t' buy me a pint?" He asks. Bit stereotypical with the accent there, though he needed to sell it since he likely didn't smell it. This would earn a frown as one casually just batted the white haired male back and to the ground.
"Push off, useless Ilean." The more sober one scowls at the man. Now honestly, he wasn't expecting such an aggressive greeting, and his fall was more genuine. Stumbling backwards, tripping over the hem of his robe, and falling straight onto his back. Right then, another thing to edit out of the story. As he staggered up, Jericho momentarily thinks he may have died, due to the sight of a lovely barmaid. Yet, unlike his younger self, he quickly snapped out of it. He raised his bandaged hand, holding his hand flat and slowly motioning for her to get down while claiming a chair for himself. Yes, chairs were not the most effective, or classy, but it would sure get the job done. He snuck up upon the pair, who had gone back to bragging about things that they probably hadn't actually done, and delivered the chair onto the head of the more drunk one. He wasn't done though, turning with the momentum to draw his sword and slam it into the man's side before slumping next to him to get a good look at him.
"You know it's rude to threaten ladies like that. Even ruder to just bat around locals." He says with a stupid, lopsided smirk. "But I'm just a bard, what do I know?" He asks, waiting to see if the sober one would notice his buddy dying, or would retaliate for the chair issue first. And here it comes...
"You want to start something?" The sober one asks, grabbing Jericho by the vest and tossing the lighter man several feet into the air and into a table with a loud crash.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Apr 21, 2017 9:10:03 GMT -6
The moment the chair came down with a crack the barmaid screamed in terror, though she quickly obeyed ducking down to avoid the oncoming bout. Jericho was quick and the soldier still lost in his drunken stupor was having difficulty even registering the chair when a blade met his side. "Urgh, hurk!" It was intelligible and the sound would haunt the barmaid as the man was laid out on the floor.
The more sober of them either did not realize his comrade was bleeding out or simply did not care. He did not just toss Jericho around, he threw the man with alarming strength. He glanced to his comrade with a sneer. "Damnable Illians. This hellhole ain't worth claiming, but your head will be sweet reward instead!" He grabbed his dying companion's axe off his body and drew his own sword. He swung the two for good measure and to get a feeling for the weight and distances before coming for Jericho before he recovered.
Nightingale was furiously preparing the poisoned drinks when the scream of terror rang out. It was enough to cause her pause with a flinch and her entire plan was brought to a halt, there was no time for that now. She grabbed the tankard she was working on and brought it with her, it was heavy after all.
In the barroom she had mere moments to take the scene in. She did not see the dying Etrurian but she did see Jane hiding under a table and the soldier looking to kill the newcomer. "Sit down!" With full force Nightingale chucked the mug at the soldier's head with an impact thud.
"Gah!" A cry of pain. The soldier stepped back covering his newly wounded eye with his arm. "You bitch!" This was supposed to be a nice drinking break! How did it end up like this?
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 8, 2017 14:18:38 GMT -6
Nightingale had to act fast! Following up from her previous strike she leapt upon her foe digging her thumbs into his eye sockets, clawing at them trying to destroy them in any way she could. "I will not let filthy Etrurians invade my home and think they can get away with it!" The man tried to grab at her, he tried to pull her from his eyes, he tried not to feel pain anymore, he tried to see, he tried to fight!
As the soldier managed to grab a large handful of hair he tried to pull but Nightingale would have none of it. She did not live this long without knowing how to fight, or having the will do be the brutal one, quite contrary to her delicate appearance. The moment she felt the slightest tug she pulled her thumbs out of his eyes and began to wail on the man's neck, at first stealing from him his air in shock and then with successive strikes breaking down the trachea. Like this it was only a matter of time till death claimed him.
Standing, Jane looked at Nightingale's blood and gore soaked hands and screamed more. What was happening? Did she really just kill a man? With her bare hands? She began to have a nervous break in the middle of the floor not knowing what she should do.
Nightingale wiped her hands on the dying man's clothes watching, oddly satisfied, as he gurgled and clung on for life. "You should go." She warned the man that initiated the two to begin with before going over to comfort Jane. Jane pulled away from her in an instant crying out.
"You! You killed him! You, you, you," She could not form more words so Nightingale shushed her softly.
"Their type would have their way with us, whatever their sick desires are, and then they would be done with us. We are the heathen women of Illia, I don't very much fancy that line of thinking includes keeping us alive." Well, in her case she was a devil itself, but that was a minor detail. "But, I am not sticking around to explain two dead men. You should not either." Nightingale straightened up and immediately set to packing her things. Jane continued to watch paralyzed from her place on the floor. Poor, poor human, her mind was so easily broken by combat. She should recover in time though, hopefully it is not too late.
Grabbing food and some water flasks out of the back Nightingale was quickly packed with her necessities. "Right then, I am now off," and just like that the manakete was off to her next adventure, to another land even, where she would set up shop for a time and be on her way. The Illian night air was cold, frigid and snowing, but she felt just fine. It matched her, as she felt nothing for the dead men, and little for the plight of Jane, even if she was more fond of her than other humans, she was still just that, a short lived human. With a soft sigh, she was gone.
[End Thread]
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