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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2014 18:41:10 GMT -6
"Dang nabit", spoke Orland as he walked into the town of Gallygate. His pockets were empty, which was not a big surprise considering he had not completed a successful rain in about a month. Even when he was with Barta's beast they did not get many successful scores thanks to their small size. Now that Orland was by himself it was even worse. It seemed that Orland would have to break down and do what he dreaded the most, work. The idea of him plowing some field or cooking food ticked him off greatly. Anger and frustration build up inside him till he erupted like a volcano.
"Screw that", shouted Orland. "The giant punched the side of a nearby wall.
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Cyril Schweitzer
Fighter
What's this then, eh!?
Posts: 53
Profession: Rebel Militiaman
Guild: Wolfpack Militia
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Cyril Schweitzer on Feb 28, 2014 19:16:19 GMT -6
Cyril had just come in on a short leave from his militia unit. Things had been going well. Plenty of frail Ilian men bloodied and his pockets lined with the spoils of war. Even though Cyril didn't look much like it he was quite the entrepreneur. Money made the world go 'round. So did striking your enemies with fear. He had both, so what more was there to ask for? Liquor.
The brute walked past through the gate with a grin as fat as the handkerchief filled with bits of loot tied to a stick he had resting on his shoulder hobo style. The little tan sack was about to burst at the ties and had a candlestick poking out the top. Since Cyril was in such a good mood he was quite jolly, nodding to the townsfolk even if they were too busy or rude.
"Oi, g'marnin'!" he exclaimed in his husky voice to a woman passing by. He shouted as he passed a large dark armored man, giving him a quite strong pat on the back. "Har ya doin' tedae!?" He didn't mind too much about what the guy would say in return if at all... he was a foreigner anyways.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2014 15:42:12 GMT -6
Orland looked at the man and immediately he could tell he was different. He was different from the random rabble that filled the village. He was different from the useless sheep that went about their daily lives with no ambition or purpose.
"Crapy", spoke Orland as he looked at the fighter. He began to size the man up. He was not stupid enough to simply attack him in the city, but knowing the ability of a potential mark was still good. Orland needed coin and the steady kind. In truth though the man looked like a bandit, and for that very reason he caught the giants attention.
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Cyril Schweitzer
Fighter
What's this then, eh!?
Posts: 53
Profession: Rebel Militiaman
Guild: Wolfpack Militia
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Cyril Schweitzer on Mar 1, 2014 16:51:43 GMT -6
The grizzled man was starting to have three days of growth on his face and his head because of the recent rains and chilly weather, he was even wearing a cloak, but his arm holding the spoils was bare, showing a very muscular and scarred arm. The other arm emerged from his cloak, his hand resting on his chin.
"Say, do ye know yer way 'round tha village? Odd folk fer not havin' an inn right near tha gates." Schweitzer looked around a bit and his hankie on a stick slapped against a swinging sign right above the two that read "Bronzemire Inn & Tavern".
Cyril grunted a bit and chuckled, grasping the dark-skinned man on his arm. "Well, ye very like tha othern folk'n tha road ain't ye? Ahl buy ye a drink ahm figur'n ye need one."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2014 22:43:17 GMT -6
He is quite generous of the man to suddenly buy someone a drink. When it comes to bandits and politics this was usually the move to strike a deal, but even if the man had the look of a brigand it did not mean he was one. Orland was not completely sure of his motives. Then again he seemed to be stock with goods from wherever he got them. He was obviously made some money. Maybe his generosity came from his good fortune. Still a drink sounded good. Along with the added bonus of having it free.
"Very well I will have a drink with you", spoke Orland. The knight walked into the Inn and looked around. The giant had to lower his head before he could walk in. Luckuly the establishment had a roof tall enough that he did not have to squat. Other than that it was an average establishment, but seemed to be missing a singer. A inn he visited back a couple of day's ago had a beauty. Pink hair and a brilliant white dress. It was enough to make the greatest man swoon. Still love was not on Orland's mind at the moment. Getting some coin and food in his stomach was.
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Cyril Schweitzer
Fighter
What's this then, eh!?
Posts: 53
Profession: Rebel Militiaman
Guild: Wolfpack Militia
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Cyril Schweitzer on Mar 1, 2014 23:58:31 GMT -6
The atmosphere was quite dull without any entertainment, but a drink was a drink and he wanted something that didn't taste like piss water. Thankfully Bern had plenty of good beers and lagers. The man still had spoils of war to cash in so he wasn't going to get wasted.
Cyril plopped down onto a bar stool in the rather vacant bar and set his sack of loot on the counter. Feeling a bit more comfortable after the long walk to town, he stretched and popped his joints before the barmaid came from the back room her eyes instantly set on Orland... the almost literal elephant in the room. The pale scarred brute waved and snapped his fingers to pull her back to reality and barked, "Oi, get me somethin' good and local! I ain't ne'er been up in these parts, so impress me!"
He turned with a grin to the quiet block of steel sitting next to him. "What'n 'bout ye?" He asked, he then put his calloused hand forward to shake his. "Oi Chief, what do ye go by o'er than big 'n' tall?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 0:09:36 GMT -6
"Orland", spoke the giant as he looked at Cyril. He did not even bother to comment on the barmaid's staring. He was already uses to that. It had been that way since he was a kid. He was always the one who stood out. "Hey get me a Silver Hen Ale", spoke Orland. It was a beverage that was high in quality, but low in price. It was not a normal drink ordered in taverns. Mainly thanks to its popularity with Brigands and Cutthroats. Any respectable man would not be caught dead drinking the beverage. The maiden looked at him and then walked off to get the ale. It seemed that they kept it in the back thanks to its rare order.
"So", spoke Orland as he looked at the man's treasure horde. "How did you claim all the goods", asked the Giant. Stealing was never an option for him as his giant size made him easy too spot. So if Kiling and stealing were not options the best way to gain money is to work for it, or at the very least be pointed in the right direction. IF this man could gain so much treasure then surly he could. All he needed was a hint and he would be on his way too getting a few coins.
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Cyril Schweitzer
Fighter
What's this then, eh!?
Posts: 53
Profession: Rebel Militiaman
Guild: Wolfpack Militia
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Cyril Schweitzer on Mar 2, 2014 2:54:02 GMT -6
Cyril recognized the stiff drink the big guy ordered right away. Him and his lads back when he ran with a group would order it after a successful bag or when trying to strike a deal. Cyril's wide grin vanished for a moment and was replaced by a small smile. "Good pick, Orlan'. Tha name's Cyril but ye can call me ugly or what'er pleases ye as long as it's honest." The man chuckled and placed his hand on the bag, doing a quick look-around for children or any other pesky thieving-type creatures. "Ah got me hands on this from o'er at Fort Daaden half a day's walk from 'ere. Pretty much picked 'n' stripped o' all 'er wares now, but bein' part o' tha militia has been workin' out fer me!"
Schweitzer reached in the sack and pulled out two coins which he tossed on the counter. "Nae, revolution's been givin' them Ilians and traitors a good lickin' so far an' tha pay can get much better 'n' tha usual pickin's when I was runnin' 'round tha countryside hittin' Lycian wagons an' especially the Ruinz gig what trouble that was."
The barmaid returned with their drinks, Cyril not too interested in her since he was so fired up in the victory of his payday. He grasped his glass by the handle and downed half of it straight away. "Oi, ya wonder why the folk out there are so downright miserable - if they only had a bit more'a this they'd quit mopin' and such." Cyril placed the glass back on the counter and looked back at Orland. "I know ye ain't Bern folk but you 'er think'a joinin' tha cause?" He relaxed a little, resting his elbow up on the tied-up handkerchief.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 16:18:34 GMT -6
The silent message thought Orland as he took a big gulp. It was funny how so many words were spoken by a simple drink. Only those who really toured Bern under their own name truly understood the meaning. Orland thought the man had the look of a raider and it seemed that he was right. It was good to be in the company of another Wolf again. His boy's seemed to disappear when he got to Bern and for the last few weeks he was forced to endure the company of sheep. Weaklings the whole lot of them.
"That is where you misunderstand", spoke Orland as he took a look at Cyril. "I am from Bern. I may have been born on the border, but I have as much of the rugged mountains in me as any of these rodents sitting around the bar." Orlands words caught the attention of a few people around. The men stood up, but one quick glance from the giant knocked their courage back down.
"As for joining the cause", spoke Orland as he took another gulp from his ale finishing the drink off. "If it will get me coin in my pocket then you have your man", spoke Orland. "My old group up and disappeared once I returned to Bern. We ran into a bit of trouble in Sacae from one of the clans. Thanks to my size following our movements was easy. In order to neutralize this I was forced to separate from the group." Anger could be seen in Orland's eyes as he thought about it. The louts were quick to throw him away when things went bad. Still he found it strange that they were not in their meeting spot.
"I was suppose to meet them in a town called Little Rock, but when I got there they were no where to be found. I asked around and apparently they never even came into town. The next time I see them", spoke Orland as he slammed his fist on the counter. The sound caught the attention of everyone in the inn.
"Hey watch it big fella", spoke the bartender. The aged man had seen many of men walk through the door. He was not intimidated by Orland's size.
"Sorry about that", spoke the giant as he rose his hand. "Anyway I am up for the cause", spoke Orland as he stared into the glass.
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Cyril Schweitzer
Fighter
What's this then, eh!?
Posts: 53
Profession: Rebel Militiaman
Guild: Wolfpack Militia
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Cyril Schweitzer on Mar 2, 2014 17:08:31 GMT -6
Taking another swig, Cyril looked on Orland a bit more seriously. "Aye, ye certainly know yer liquor an' ye know the ways of the mountains." The former bandit knew this guy was just like him just with darker skin, taller, and with slabs of steel on his chest. Orland didn't talk too much, but hearing him open up a bit was good. Cyril knew he could trust him. Revolution or not, everyone needed grub in their bellies so he understood Orland's sentiments and precaution to joining with the rebels.
Clearing his throat, he spoke again. "There's loot to be had, but it's fought fer wit tooth'n nail. Also ye heart gotta be wit Bern. We're fixin' ta expel tha traitors 'n' Ilian dogs." He finished off his glass and set it back on the counter, blinking a bit and belching. "Good ta hear, Orlan'. We can git on out tomorrah."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2014 17:23:52 GMT -6
"Good", spoke Orland. "Easy loot is not worth the effort, and as far as my heart I would say it is with Bern in its own way. I ain't that crazy about no king, nor any of those pampered nobles, but Bern is the land of Hartmut. He claimed if from the dragons by the way of blood and we will reclaim it from the Ilia in the same manner."
Cyril spoke of leaving tomorrow and Orland nodded. "For Blood and Glory", spoke the Knight. It was an old saying his father use to use. The giant was ready. He was tired of wondering around doing nothing. His gang had abandon him and now he was about to join the rebels. It was a bit ironic really. A couple of months ago if you would have told him he would join the rebels he would have killed you. He never saw himself as a rank and file soldier, but seeing Cyril in their ranks made him think a bit differently about the organization. If a bandit like Cyril could join up then maybe he could as well.
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Cyril Schweitzer
Fighter
What's this then, eh!?
Posts: 53
Profession: Rebel Militiaman
Guild: Wolfpack Militia
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Cyril Schweitzer on Mar 2, 2014 18:00:13 GMT -6
Cyril laughed heartily and stood up from his seat. "Ahl meet ye her'n tha mornin'. Ah've got me some trinkets ta sell." He placed the stick back over his shoulder and walked out into the daylight through the thick door.
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When morning came, Schweitzer was sitting at the same seat in the bar with a handkerchief stuffed into his pocket and a new pack with plenty of trail required items in and on it. A recent purchase by how new it looked. He had a fresh haircut clearly showing his scars yet he still wore the burlap colored cloak. Orland showed up as planned and the two nodded to each other silently and left for the road.
[END]
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