Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Jan 25, 2013 20:47:14 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Jan 25, 2013 20:47:14 GMT -6
It was cold. The snow whipped his face. Garrit wore only his red jacket. He had bought a scarf, which was now wrapped around the blade of his guan dao. He needed to protect it from the elements. His body would survive. It had been two days since he landed in this snowy land. He trudged up a wet hill. His boots crunched the snow as his feet stomped. The snow stung his eyes. It was cold.
He didn't mind the cold. It made him feel almost more aware of the blood moving through his body. He though he traveled south. He'd not been wrong yet, but no way to be sure. Everything looked the same in this frozen tundra. He had not seen any place safe to rest. So trudge and trudge on. It was cold.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Feb 4, 2013 16:04:48 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Feb 4, 2013 16:04:48 GMT -6
Garrit shook his boots free of snow before he stepped on the cobblestone. This city, Petrezberg, it smelled. He didn't like it, it was filthy and he could feel eyes on him the second the first building came into view. His boots were soon covered again from snow on the road. He kept his gaze on the ground, but didn't get far before there was a burly mans chest standing inches in front of him. Garrit looked up. The man smiled brightly, but had a dangerous air about him. "Hello good chap! I think I know what a young man such as you needs to see. Come with me!" The man grabbed Garrit's wrists, and despite the soldier tugging and protesting, drew him down an alley.
The two passed through a small opening covered by a curtain. The room was mysteriously warm for being open to the winds outside. Garrit was pushed down into a chari next to a table. The man who'd dragged him there passed around a wall, and was immediately replaced b a scantily clad, woman around thirty. She carried four bones and a piece of paper. She sat across from the Islander. She had copper dark skin, and when she spoke she did so with an accent unknown to Garrit. "What is your name, little one." Garrit guessed he could have been a foot higher than the lady, but he answered anyway. "Garrit Coal ma'am." She nodded, "Ah, that accent, Caledonia, no? Coal is a bastard name is it not?" Garrit nodded. "Well then, Garrit Coal, bastard from the Isles, how about we read your fortune." Garrit responded by not responding. "Well, let's begin!" She unrolled the paper, and dashed the bones onto the surface. When they finally fell still, she gasped.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Feb 4, 2013 22:17:02 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Feb 4, 2013 22:17:02 GMT -6
The fortune tellers voice erupted as smoke filled the room. "You walk a road paved in blood! Surrounded by fear! You will fight til the day you die, and the four winds will not stop you when you find your purpose. Fire and Salt. Ice and dirt. You carry only pain throughout your life. Death and sorrow." She finished, and saw that Garrit had no reaction on his face. He just doubted that any of it was true. There were four bones on a couple of pictures. Two skulls, a river of red, and a breeze. Depending on how many fortunes this woman told, the world would be nothing but death. He stood, pushing the chair back. He lifted his Guan Dao so that it didn't hit under the table. Without a word he turned to leave. A different man stood in the door frame. He had the leg of a chair propped against his shoulder like a club, and extended his palm, "Five pieces please." Garrit took a step forward, and the man seemed surprised. A hand was on his shoulder, and the smiling man from before shook his head. Garrit looked at the ground. "I don't want trouble." "We don't want empty stomachs." Garrit looked the man in the doorway in the eye. "If you don't get out of m' way, that phrase'll take a whole new meanin'."
Both of the men laughed. Garrit placed one hand near the back of his lance, and the other near the middle. He made as if to stab the man in front of him, but rammed the base of the weapon into the man behind him's stomach. The man in front of him swung his cudgel, but Garrit ducked. He swung the guan at the man, but let it hit behind the blade. The slim lance bent itself away and towards the body it hit, as fit it's style. Garrit tried to push past the man but was grabbed by the one behind him. He lifted his legs from the ground and kicked with both legs at the man he'd just hit. His weapon across his body, locked by his captors arms, it was all he could do. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and the man met with the feet to the chest was thrown into the alley. The man holding the living reaction was thrown back onto the table.
Garrit twisted off of the mans momentarily incapacitated form, and landed on his knees. He was up as soon as he could, and ran into the street. He'd only made it two steps when a bottle of perfume burst against his back. He stumbled as a response, and had to get up again knowing the men would have had time to rise as well. Here they came into the streets as he readied his stance. The scarf was still wrapped around the blade, but Garrit slid his left hand to the back, and his right hand to the middle, blade pointing down. A couple bystanders turned to watch, as the fight was now a public appearance. Garrit spit to his left side.
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Nils
Myrmidon
"I uh... You have a beautiful butt. I mean... wait... that's not what I... I'm Nils."
Posts: 1
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Cold
Feb 17, 2013 20:06:08 GMT -6
Post by Nils on Feb 17, 2013 20:06:08 GMT -6
Just how many drinks Nils had consumed he wasn't aware. Typically the young man could down as many as 8 or 9 shots before realizing he was even a bit tipsy, but tonight, there was no telling just what he had consumed. His cheeks were red with blissful glee, and he laughed and hollered across the bar, having made a few 24 hour friends at the bar that night. He was pleased with his evening, though the bartender could speak differently on her own behalf. Nils was a show-stealer, but he was also a nuisance, and those that weren't already heavily intoxicated were well aware of that fact.
Nils could hardly remember why he'd come all the way to Ilia. In his judgement-impaired state, he recalled it was something about escaping a tax collector and an angry bartender in Santaruz. He vaguely remembered coming to Ilia to find a bar where he could run a huge tab and then make an escape from the city while he still could. After all, his life primarily consisted of running-- whether it was from himself, the law, the bartenders he pissed off, or the women he slept with and never wrote to again. Whatever he was doing, he was usually running. Tonight was no different. Alcohol helped him run from his problems. He enjoyed that about it.
However, as the night progressed and Nils become more and more a public disturbance, the bartender stopped serving him. If she'd known better, she would have poured the drinks down his throat. Alas, she knew not better. Nils was a happy, joyous drunk, but when he was refused a good drink, all seven gates of hell broke loose. He became very, very angry.
"What? What the... you... wait a minute, I... *hiccup*" Nils stammered, looking around the room for the words he wanted. His eyebrows furrowed, but he couldn't seem to find his words in the language he knew so well. He tried to stand, but when he did, he fell over in the floor and groaned. He knew he couldn't walk, but he wanted to try. Damn it all, he wanted to know why he couldn't continue his night.
The bartender snapped her fingers and the guard came. Big and burly, he grabbed Nils by the back of the collar and dragged him to the door. "Out you go," he said, as if throwing out bar patrons that didn't pay was a usual chore for him. His axe suggested that it probably was.
Nils would have protested if he could speak, but in his drunken stupor he could hardly writhe around on the cold, snowy ground he now lay on. His world dizzy, the young man looked around. A few feet in front of him, a man stood with a lance drawn. At first, Nils thought he had either died or fallen into a sleep in which a dream of a soldier permeated his mind. Not entirely sure what was about to happen, Nils tried to speak, still laying on the ground.
"I uh... Yoush... Yoush ah... Hello..." His face fell into the snow.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Feb 20, 2013 13:17:07 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Feb 20, 2013 13:17:07 GMT -6
Garrit was shocked when a man was thrown in front of him and tried to say something. Even more so when one of the large men from before ran and tumbled over him. His companion was smarter and slower, and ran around the new drunk obstacle. Garrit drew his dao in a crescent toward his opponents head, yet the man ducked. Garrit was rammed up against the alley wall, and his weapon left his hand. Garrit kicked at the man's leg and raked his nails across his back. The man had a size advantage, and was more versed in the art of brawling than the soldier.
A headbutt is what sealed the deal, and the man turned back. Garrit's face wasn't exactly immune to the pain either, but he scrambled to lift his dao. He sprung to his feet holding his weapon again, and looked to the other opponent. He clutched the drunk man around his collar and was screaming something into his face. The Islander's attention was quickly turned back, as his opponent came at him, club raised above his head. Garrit darted out of the mans path, and shouldered the other assailant off the drunk gentleman. The enemy off my enemy is my friend.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Mar 3, 2013 21:41:21 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Mar 3, 2013 21:41:21 GMT -6
OoC: I'm in a Big Brother program. I was supposed to give a speech on the water cycle for the winter season to my little buddy's Kindergarden class. I thought it would be appropriate and hilarious to incorporate it into a battle post.
Ic: Garrit's original opponent came back at him, but this time making to swing his club. Garrit wasn't sure as to what the man hoped to accomplish. His club was maybe three feet long, and here stood Garrit holding a four foot pole with a three foot blade. There was something to be said about reach in a fight. His cloth covered dao rammed into the mans abdomen. He whipped it in a circle by rotating the back hand to the left and the right up and to the left. It hit the man on his heads right side. He turned to the man rising from the ground to see he was already moving. He grabbed the shaft of Garrit's weapon with both hands. Garrit wasn't willing to lose his one advantage in an outnumbered battle. The man swung him towards the alley wall.
Garrit lifted his legs as he came towards the great construct. A single snowflake goes on a long journey from it's evaporation. It reaches the sky, and there begins the process of condensation. Once enough evaporated water or snow condenses, a cloud forms. After floating about while still condensing, we reach a point in our cycle called precipitation. If our friend water is in a cold environment such as the Tundra known as Illia, it may fall as snow. An interesting fact about a snowflake is that no two are the same, just like people! Yet just like people, most snowflakes never get their chance to show how special they really are. Most of them are crushed under a boot. A special snowflake hit the alley wall, and was crushed by Garrit's boot. Garrit was flung the other way, ironically into the second opponent. Garrit's plummet to the ground threw the other man off balance in such a way that his grip slipped on the dao. His hands slipped back, and took off the blades cover, cutting his hands on the blade so that he let it go. Garrit rose again. This is what the battle had turned into.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Apr 5, 2013 16:27:55 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Apr 5, 2013 16:27:55 GMT -6
Garrit screamed at the first man's face. He took a few steps sprinting towards him, but then changed course towards the second man on the ground. He kicked the man in the ribs The man was propping himself up, but went crashing down due to the kick. Garrit turned to the other man, and used his spin to flip the dao and hit the first man's stomach with it. Then there was a sharp pain in his back. As he fell to the ground, he saw some armored men break into the alley. He blacked out.
Garrit woke up face down in a dirty bed. There was a beautiful young woman pressing her hand on his back, but he couldn't feel the skin of her hand, just the pressure. He looked down and saw a bandage wrapped around his lower back. There was another man seated in the corner smoking from a pipe, next to his was Garrit's dao. Garrit lifted his head. "Where am I?" The girl replied, "'Bout a mile out of Petrezberg. M' husband o'er there's got a friend who's a guard there. 'Twas a long ride but, ah had a little healin' practice back when we lived in Ph'rae. A healer's on his way out now. You'll just spend a few days here s'all." The other man got up and crossed the room. "Name's Brandon mate. This little ladies my wife, Laney." He extended his hand and Garrit grasped it. The girl laughed, "I'm as much a lady as m' wee brother's a Knight." The man kissed his wife on the forehead, and then stepped out. The girl opened the curtains, and Garrit nearly lost his breath. Her eyes sparkled as and the sun seemed to set fire to her lime green hair. Garrit must have lost too much blood, he suddenly felt like his legs were water.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Jun 12, 2013 22:46:38 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Jun 12, 2013 22:46:38 GMT -6
A few days passed and Garrit could get out of bed, two weeks and he was almost as good as new. He'd decided to pay off his debt to Brandon, so he began helping out around the farm. He didn't do much, he milked cows, and slowly built a fence around where the couple kept the pigs. It was slow, and he was unfamiliar with it. Brandon was a nice enough man, he treated Garrit as if he was an old friend. One night, the two sat down to eat and they Brandon began talking to Laney about starting a family, in front of Garrit, which didn't make him uncomfortable at all. "Look, ah spoke to the midwahfe, and she said ah just needed to eat a bit of birch wood every month and that should help." Brandon hit Garrit and smiled, "Maybe if we got you out of the next room, that'd help." Garrit put on a fake smile but could feel himself getting red. "Dear god, does the mention of a man and a woman," Brandon moved his head from side to side. Garrit just looked down at his plate. "By Elimine's legs you do. Well," He stood, having finished his meal, "next time I go into town, I'll take you to a brothel."[/color] Garrit continued to look at his plate. Brandon kissed Laney, "they know me at a few of them in town very well."[/font][/color] Laney playfully hit him in his stomach, and Garrit noticed how much it shook. Then Brandon kissed her for longer than Garrit considered appropriate, and left for town. He was going to trade and sell goods, which apparently went best if he woke up first thing in the morning and got the best fruit and could sell at his own price. Garrit wasn't sure why, but he was happy the man was leaving.
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Cold
Jun 13, 2013 0:21:16 GMT -6
Post by Raegan on Jun 13, 2013 0:21:16 GMT -6
As Brandon leaves out the front door his steps halt for a moment and he can be heard laughing,"Well I'll be damned! Good to see ya again kid! I gotta run, but Laney's just inside with dinner."
"Thank you, Brandon." Came a cold, somewhat detached voice. Raegan steps through the front door of the house. She's beautiful, if not just as cold as the snow outside. She might literally be as well given what she is wearing, a sleeveless tunic, but the cold does not seem to bother her at all. "Hello Laney," Her yellow eyes turn on Garrit, "Who are you?" She isn't carrying much, just a thin blade on her right hip, and some rather empty looking pouches.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Jun 13, 2013 17:05:27 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Jun 13, 2013 17:05:27 GMT -6
Ooc: It's nighttime by the way. If you have any questions just PM me.
Laney sped to the door to give the mystery woman a powerful hug. Garrit rose from his chair as she came in, as he'd been taught to do. He only looked at her once, then went back to eating. She was strikingly attractive, yet had an odd air about her. As if she was closed. The owners of this house were so open, they made Garrit feel less closed. Now there was a new person he must come to know. She asked who he was, "I am Garrit." The r's rolled off of his tongue.
Laney clapped her hands, "Well, I'm sorry to say our spare room is taken up by Garrit tonight, and for a few nights you see. So I'm not sure where you'll sleep..." She looked genuinely upset. Garrit stood and said, "I'll sleep on ta floor." He began walking into the other room but turned, "I'll let you twuo catch aup." He felt no need to hide his accent like Laney did. No one would care about a Caledonian boy out in the middle of nowhere. He sat down on the bed and began to sharpen the blade of his dao.
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Cold
Jun 14, 2013 4:12:19 GMT -6
Post by Raegan on Jun 14, 2013 4:12:19 GMT -6
OOC: Got it, fixed inconsistency.
Raegan did not seem at all concerned by the accent. She lets her arms fold around Laney, and a small, but affectionate smile tugs at her lips. It does not last long before she steps away and is back to being all business.
She nods as Garrit introduces himself, turning a critical eye on him for a moment. She seems satisfied."Raegan. Keep the bed, I'm only here for the night. I can take the floor, or one of the lofts in the barn," She turns to Laney, "The cold doesn't bother me much, and he was here first, after all." When Garrit starts to sharpen his blade she can't help but turn an appreciative eye to his work.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Jun 22, 2013 17:59:42 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Jun 22, 2013 17:59:42 GMT -6
Brandon hitched his horses up. He'd stashed the crops in the stable. Now he was going to the Drunken Hog, an inn with a tavern below. It was a place he liked particularly well. He stepped in and a few men he recognized lifted their hats. He walked over to the bar and got a mug of ale. He sat at a table with a few of farmers who were in town to trade goods or simply there for a few drinks. He noticed for the first time four armored men, their armor seeming to glow gold. There was one young man in yellow and red robes. The five men were sitting in a corner, but the man in robes stood, followed by the largest of the armored men. He crossed to a table close to his own, followed by the man who seemed to be a guard. Brandon answered a question about a rabbit problem from one of his friends, and turned back to see a farmer point the robed young man right at him. The man moved towards him like a cat, very slow, yet deliberate. One of the armored men at the table pulled a girl down on his lap, and wouldn't let her get up as she struggled to stand. Brandon turned his eyes back to the robed youth, and as his robe shifted, he glimpsed the hilt of an unfamiliar blade. Brandon looked back to the table, and noted all of the men wore swords on ther hips, and there was a broad axe up against the wall.
When Brandon turned, he saw the robed man was standing at the table, with his large man right behind him. The guard's chest plate had a sigil of a gavel on a sun. It was expertly carved into the metal. The young man cleared his throat, and said in a regal Etrurian accent, "Are you the man known as Brandon Phillips?" Brandon stroked his beard, "And if I am?" The guard spoke through his large mustache, "You'll answer if you like your tongue." Brandon coughed, "Brandon Phillips is my name." The youth nodded, the guard walked around the table and lifted Brandon from his seat. As Brandon kicked and clawed at the large man, he looked at his friends and saw all of them looking at their plates. The man took him into the street and threw him down. Brandon attempted to rise but the man shoved him back down. The young man squatted down next to his face. "We're looking for a man named Garrit. Garrit Coal. We've heard a few accounts that say he's staying with you, so here's what will happen..." ---------------------------------------
Garrit sharpened the blade of his lance as he'd always done. He tilted his head left as he went up on the blade, and right as he went down. He said, "I'll sleep on ta floor Ma'am. Please do not push ta subject any fuhrther." Laney shook her head and chuckled, "You warrior types are so irritable. Raegan, you'll sleep in my bed."
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Cold
Jun 24, 2013 15:35:01 GMT -6
Post by Raegan on Jun 24, 2013 15:35:01 GMT -6
Raegan opened her mouth to protest the point further, before Laney interceded. "I... very well, if Brandon will not be back for the night that does not bother me. Thank you." She answers the invitation.
That settled she took a seat and turned her attention back to the soldier. "You said it was Garrit? What brings you to Ilia?" She asks.
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Garrit
Soldier
Posts: 45
Affinity: Dark
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Cold
Jun 24, 2013 16:23:45 GMT -6
Post by Garrit on Jun 24, 2013 16:23:45 GMT -6
Brandon stumbled back into the Drunken Hog. He was bruised and beaten, and moved towards the bar ignoring snickers from the soldiers in the corner. He walked up to the bar and slammed down a piece of gold. HE swiveled around and began to stalk out. He stopped next to the table of his "friends" and spat. The robed youth and his guard had stepped back in. The robed man glided over to his seat at the table. As Brandon reached the door the giant stood in his way. Brandon slowly lifted his head to meet the man's gaze. The man snorted and returned to his seat with the others. ---------------------------------------
The woman with black hair asked Garrit what brought him to Illia. Garrit felt a smile creep onto the right side of his face as he thought of a remark. He allowed himself to sharped his blade for a few seconds more. Then he looked the girl in her yellow eyes, and said, "A boat." He turned back to his weapon and let his smile fade away.
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Cold
Jun 24, 2013 18:22:04 GMT -6
Post by Raegan on Jun 24, 2013 18:22:04 GMT -6
Raegan makes a bit of a face at Garrit's answer, "Very well. If you wish to be that way." She says, her eyes gaining that sharp glint again. Seeing as her fellow house guest does not seem to be in a particularly chatty mood she sets about helping Laney clear the dishes from breakfast.
Once that is done she sits back down at the table and starts to take an inventory of her things, noting what needs to be repaired or replaced, as well as putting a whetstone to her blade and sharpening it.
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