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Post by Charlotte on Aug 10, 2014 23:26:41 GMT -6
As the autumn sun set in the West behind the recovering fort city of Macendew, a small camp of rebels were still actively working on their next moves. Many were still focused on personal repairs or doing their best to minimize their intrusion on the citizens of the city, but a select few had begun planning their next moves.
“Five men isn’t enough to reasonably man three carts if we want a patrol to believe we’re just refugees. We need at least ten, preferably with a few combat-ready women and a child or two...”
In a small tent on the edge of the city, Charlotte stood with three men, huddled around a detailed roadmap of Bern, looking over the paths they might be able to take to move a key shipment of siege weapon parts to a more strategic location near Lucerne. Part of the journey would take them through Illian-controlled territory, which was highly risky considering what could happen if they were caught with the "illegal" goods. But there was a pocket of rebels that were willing to store the parts until the major rebel forces had time to act. All they needed was someone who was experienced in coordinating this kind of move, which was where Charlotte came in. But the men she was working with didn’t seem to be buying her suggestions.
A talk, bearded man who went by Bush shook his head while narrowing his beady eyes at Charlotte. “No. We cannot endanger children, are you crazy, woman?”
Charlotte mimicked his narrowed eyes. “So I'm crazy for not wanting to endanger the move? Don’t you think having a bunch of burly men and hardened-looking Bernese in a caravan with covered carts would do that? It’s a dead giveaway.”
Bush’s friend Gerd, a shorter, stockier man who was known for being more of a monetary contributor than anything, looked over to Charlotte. “I understand, but Bush is right. There’s no reason to bring children into this.” He paused, rubbing his chin as he thought for a moment. “We could take some of the younger-looking recruits and have them pose as children. That’s the most we can do.”
Charlotte frowned. She would be risking a lot of pay if this didn’t work, not to mention her fantastic relationship with a few of the ex Bernese nobles who had funded the siege weaponry and this move. But that wouldn’t move these men to her cause. “Our sponsors won’t be happy if this doesn’t work. We risk losing a lot of ground on a trip that likely won’t devolve to combat either way. So wouldn’t it honestly be safer to just keep a few children with their moms or dads in the caravan when it also helps the cause?”
But it seemed that no matter what she said, the men wouldn’t budge. “No," Gerd quickly responded. "Take the men and women you’ll need, but past that you’ll only get a few recruits. That’s final.”
Frustrated, Charlotte didn’t respond, simply taking one more moment to look over the map before walking out of the tent, angrily pushing the flaps out of her way as she submerged herself in the orange glow of the setting sun. While she was upset now, Charlotte wouldn’t have much time to walk this off. While everything wasn’t going exactly to plan, she’d need the last hour of sunlight to gather the men she’d be allowed before they could get moving.
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Dayan
Thief
Posts: 40
Profession: Doctor
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Wyatt
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Post by Dayan on Aug 10, 2014 23:49:37 GMT -6
Dayan looked over his weapon with a scowl. The chain had been severed cleanly by this damned thug. It wouldn't be useable until he could find someone to repair it properly. The weight, length and strength of the chain was essential, and very few smiths would know the proper technique for doing it. Damn it all!
He kicked the corpse laying in a rather massive pool of his own blood. "You just had to try and rob me, you little worm! Gah! Now I have to use something as limiting as this scrap of iron you called a sword!" Even with his weapon destroyed, Dayan had made remarkably quick work of the brigand. Two qucik slashes that appeared to be naught more than scratches on the flesh. It took half a minute for the brigand to notice how much blood was coming from the shallow wounds. By that point he was sufficiently light headed for Dayan to end the fight with one final strike.
Of course, this meant that there was a good deal of blood splattered all along the ground. Knowing the locations of key arteries was an essential skill in combat. After all, you couldn't heal without first knowing how to hurt.
Dayan picked up the sheath the man had been using, wiping off the blood that had gotten on it. Great. He'd just have to make do with a sword for now, until he could get his chain sickle repaired. They weren't far from a town, if Dayan remembered right. As it came into view, he suddenly remembered what town, or castle, this was. Macendew, which had quite the reputation of being a rebellion hide out.
Dayan had yet to take sides in the Bern Rebellion. Both sides had corrupt officials trying to manipulate things to their own ends, and both had noble individuals who believed they were fighting for what was right. Perhaps if he could root out the corruption on both sides, a resolution might be possible.
Yes. There would be a purpose to stopping here. As he approached the town, he saw a small encampment near the entrance. Whomever they were, it looked like they would be heading out shortly. Odd. The sun was starting to set. Who would start moving at night?
The answer to that question was simple. Someone who had something to hide.
He moved to pass the encampment, noting a blond woman standing outside looking quite peturbed. He nodded to her as he passed. "Good evening," he said simply, not bothering to stop.
He had not noticed that he'd gotten a good deal of blood on his boots, and was leaving a light red stain on the grassy plains as he walked.
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Rogus
Thief
Arrogance is a virtue.
Posts: 178
Profession: Stealing yo' gold
Guild: SS
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Gus
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Post by Rogus on Aug 11, 2014 11:39:40 GMT -6
Hey there love, why such the long face? Rogus seemingly materialized behind Myscha. He had apparently left the tent to follow her. His distinguishable red cloak flowing behind him in the wind, Rogus lowered his hood and gave her a wink. Myscha was quite obviously frustrated and he wanted this to go down as smooth as possible. The only way for that to happen was if he had a calm blonde running the show and not one that was red-in-the-face mad. He fell into stride next to her and jokingly prodded her shoulder with his elbow.
If it makes you feel any better, those guys have silly names! He always had that grin on his face, sometimes even when he was angry. Some could say it was a smug gesture, but Rogus did it out of pure habit as he always had something to say that could make him laugh. But you know they're right... Kids ain't meant for this kind of thing.
He was about to say something else just to annoy her a bit, but a man walked by. Rogus had an eye for those of... his more subtle profession, but this guy couldn't have been more obvious. Blood on his boots, not to mention he walked right through a camp like it was nothing. He had the word Highwayman written all over him in Rogus's eyes, but he wasn't inclined to say anything; drawing un-wanted attention from those types of folk brought a lot more than just the chance of ill-fortune. He could be wrong, but hell, he'd have acted the same way as the mysterious blood-on-his-boots man.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Aug 11, 2014 13:19:30 GMT -6
Cen had been hungry when he'd taken this job, and now that he'd been able to stave off that physical need, he wasn't sure it was for him. Sure, it was paying okay, and if Cen was going to get paid for fighting, he'd prefer the coin to be for fighting to protect people. Still, transporting refugees struck two contradicting chords in Cen's mind. Dull and dangerous. Hey, Cen thought, alliteration.
Cen had already been to the nearby town, that's where he'd been hired. He'd walked into the tavern just that morning, and sat down to ask for a flagon of mead before he found some odd job to take up his time and space in his coin purse. Then, as if his life were a story being written by someone who found coincidences delightful, a man sat down next to Cen, admiring his lance. Cen had quickly asked if the man wanted anything, to which the man nodded, "I'm looking for men to guard a group of refugees on their way out of town later today, men who preferably carry large lances and need coin to quell their hunger." Again, a coincidence as Cen's stomach roared at that very moment. Cen smiled and said, "I may know someone who has a large lance."
Now Cen sat on a rock beside a large covered cart, eating a lunch of roasted chicken, purchased for him by his employer. That was not the only thing the man had helped him procure, next to Cen's larger lance was a quiver stuffed tight with javelins. Cen looked up and saw the blond woman his employer had told him to identify leaving a tent, tailed by a man of slim build. A dangerous looking fellow walked past them, and Cen figured he may as well introduce himself. He sat down the plate he'd been eating the chicken with on the cart edge behind him, and brushed his greasy hands on his trousers till they were dry. He approached the two talking figures who'd just left the tent and cleared his throat. "Um, sorry to interrupt, but I'm Cen. They hired me to guard you all while you were transporting your refugees." Cen looked around. "Most of whom appear to be absent."
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 11, 2014 19:52:31 GMT -6
Brow furrowed and arms crossed, Charlotte whipped around when she Rogus’ voice sound from behind. She’d asked him if he would accompany her on the trip as, well, she wasn’t exactly the most fearsome combatant. Sure, she could protect herself, but the more strong men they had with them to guard the cargo the better. She had appreciated when he accepted – though of course, she was sure the guiding reason was the pay. They did need to eat, after all.
The young woman heard the greeting of the passing man, but she didn’t pay him any heed as he walked by, much too concerned with her own troubles. “You’d think they understand that their little rebellion depends on shipments like these making it to their destination! How do they expect to take ground with little more than farmers with swords! No commitment!” Charlotte was exaggerating, but she was absolutely floored that these men, who seemed they would do anything to reclaim their throne, were so unwilling to take what she saw as necessary risks.
Charlotte’s steely gaze broke for just a moment as Rogus joked with her, her look softening. The resulting small smile only lasted a moment as Charlotte covered the spot Rogus had elbowed her, rubbing her arm and lowering her chin. It seemed he has some sense of morals, though, as he actually defended Bush and Gerd’s stance. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Charlotte sighed. “In a perfect world, you’re right, I wouldn’t dream of suggesting it. But... what Bush and Gerd can’t see is that in order to get even close to what they want, you have to make sacrifices,” she moved her hands as she spoke, articulating with her dainty fingers. “I wasn’t asking to dress them for war and walk them into a battlefield. I was asking for them to ride in a cart for a few days, that’s all. Doesn’t matter now, though. We’ll find some other way to get this done.”
Just as she finished, an armored man walked up beside them, hair green as a lime, and introduced himself. Charlotte did her best to shake her contempt off for now, now in the presence of a stranger. Ah, that was right, their sponsors did say they’d hire at least one other bodyguard, didn’t they? She noted how he referred to the trip; it didn’t seem he knew about the cargo, so Charlotte wouldn’t be the one to clue him in. The less people that knew the true purpose for the journey the better. “They’re around, just gathering the last of their things before we head out. I’m Myscha, by the way, nice to meet you, Cen.” Looking at his hair again, she frowned, wondering if it made him look too much like a Sacaen to fit in with the Bernese. For now, she’d keep her doubts to herself.
“I’m sure you already know we leave at sun-down. Use the time wisely, as we won’t be stopping until sun-up. I’d suggest you finish your meal,” she added, having noticed not only the greasy fronts of his pants and some lingering grease around his mouth, “and then get whatever you need together. My partner and I have some arrangements to take care of before we head out.”
With that, Charlotte gave a brief nod before guiding herself and Rogus away from the man. Honestly all they needed to do before leaving was gather a few recruits and make sure the rebels were dressed accordingly, but they didn’t need prying ears around for the last hour they would have alone until their trip was over. Besides, they had other matters to discuss besides their main job for the Bernese rebels. “So we still have the drop-off lined up at the first stop, and after the cargo’s secured at our the second stop I have some... personal business to attend to. I hope that's not an issue."
----
While Charlotte had completely ignored the passing man, he wouldn’t be so lucky to escape the eye of all the members of the small camp. A few of the more oafish rebels sat around a crackling fire as they chowed down on a few pieces of fatty duck one of the archers had shot down, of course partaking in a pint or two of ale to celebrate their successes at the fort.
Most of the men were content with just eating their meat, but two spotted the outsider moving through their little camp. “Oy!” Pointing with his half-eaten duck breast, the larger of the two men rose to his feet, the front of his burlap shirt stained dark with grease. He moved towards the man, with his other friend standing and following not far behind. “Oy, yew, who dew yeh think yew are, stompin’ on threw like yeh own the place?” He squinted. “Yer not with our grup, so who are yeh?"
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Dayan
Thief
Posts: 40
Profession: Doctor
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Wyatt
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Post by Dayan on Aug 11, 2014 20:13:46 GMT -6
Dayan noticed the lack of a response he got from the people of the camp. How predictable. Those with a political cause tended to think that only their little bubble mattered. Hell, at times he could be just as guilty of that. Still, he didn't let it bother him. These were likely rebellion blockade runners, which meant trouble was their M.O.
Again, not like he could point fingers.
Unfortunately, his trip through the encampment would not be without incident. No, that would be far too convenient. One of the musclebound oafs, the kind with more blood heading to their forearms than their brain, took exception to his presence. He sighed, looking over the large and grotesque man, along with his companions.
"I happen to be moving through this collection of tents, wagons and fools because it is in my way. Do you find the answers equal to your desire to protect your territory like a chained dog, or would you understand better if I threw raw meat at you?" he said, meeting the brigand's gaze without an ounce of fear.
A confrontation here would be unwise. Lethal force would be out of the question. If he killed one of them, the entire encampment would turn on him without question or explanation. That would end very poorly. If this descended into violence, he'd need to delay until someone came to investigate. He was already formulating his plan for when that eventuality occurred.
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Rogus
Thief
Arrogance is a virtue.
Posts: 178
Profession: Stealing yo' gold
Guild: SS
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Gus
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Post by Rogus on Aug 11, 2014 22:05:18 GMT -6
Well, I never said I agreed with them! They got a fair point is all. He laughed and appeared to listen carefully to every word. And in reality he was, knowing exactly what the issue is would help him scheme up a way to solve it. I'm a firm believer in committment to a cause. You know that I'd sacrifice my own hide if it meant our merry company would eventually succeed, but they aren't soldiers, and they certainly ain't like us. Rogus agreed with her wholeheartedly on every point she made, but he still didn't hear her come up with any ideas for solutions. He nearly had one forming in his head when the Cef-- no, Cen, came up to speak with his companion. He remained largely silent, he wanted to seem like more of her bodyguard than an associate; There was no particular reason for it, but it would explain why they seemed to shadow each other.
My name's Silas, good to meet you. He returned Cen's gesture and waited until Myscha sent the grunt off before grinning and giving Myscha knowing look and a short chuckle at the lance-men's eagerness and ignorance.
Thought they'd use rebels for the guards... I guess it doesnt matter for guys like him. They get paid either way. He sighed and listened to her breakdown of the plan, and her supposed need to take care of business in the first town.
I suppose this business is the leave me behind with Bush and Turd variety? He said with a jokingly hurt tone. He swore he had gotten the second name wrong but honestly couldn't remember If it is or isn't I don't mind; this is your operation after all... Well, as long as you join in for a song or two in the pub afterwards. He didn't know if there would be a pub or not, but he tried to remain optimistic. The thought of having to spend all his time with the blundering oafs in the camp made his stomach feel uneasy. However, though the majority of his banter was riddled with jokes or sarcasm, this last bit was a reminder of an earlier conversation back in Lycia.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Aug 11, 2014 22:44:08 GMT -6
Both thin figures brushed Cen off like he was some kind of bug. It was no great shock to Cen, the few jobs he'd taken in his short mercenary/bodyguard/pleasefeedmeI'llkillpeopleifthey'rebadpeople career had been marked by employers who clearly thought he was nothing more than a lance for whatever purpose they needed at the time. No difference, he was getting paid. As he walked back toward his meal, he was still hungry, and ready to finish the chicken. That was the thing that had impressed him. He'd been given a full chicken. He probably would have guarded the caravan just for that, but then they had offered him gold, and helped him defend himself better with these javelins. However, he'd not get to satiate his hunger yet. The man with the dangerous look was being hassled by some of the men Cen now presumed were traveling with the caravan. 'Great, let's put ourselves on the line for a stranger, a stranger who literally had blood on his clothes,' Cen thought. Were boots clothes?
Cen left his lance by the rock and his javelins. He walked over with a casual stroll, resting his thumbs in the loops of his trousers. As he grew closer he heard the stranger insulting the men around him. Great. Cen smiled and stepped next to the stranger, and before anyone could say anything, he interjected. "Whoa now pal. Haven't I told you that's no way to make friends? Hey, how're you guys doin'? Ah'm Cen, and me an' my friend here were hired to help protect your little outfit." A few of the men's faces softened, but many were still visibly perturbed. "You'll have to excuse him, he gets a bit nervous around new people." Cen gave the maniac a subtle wink, and hoped this whole exchange didn't create Cen stains on the man's clothes.
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 12, 2014 12:24:36 GMT -6
Charlotte watched as the man walked off, nodding as Rogus spoke. “You know how nobles are, have to protect their investment.” She paused for a moment before she shifted her focus back to her partner. “It’d be a disaster if they lost any of the parts, so I don’t blame them for wanting to ensure success by dropping in a few men not driven by the cause, just by the coin.” It was funny to Charlotte, that while she was supposed to, she didn’t trust the majority of the rebels she would be working with. They were tied to the cause with little more than strong emotion and nationalistic pride, and that didn’t fly with Charlotte. Emotions fade, but coin did not to her.
Finally the frustrated woman gave a genuine smile as Rogus misspoke one of the rebel’s names. Charlotte was sure he had simply forgotten, but it was enough to make her tired mind give way for a second. “Bush and Gerd, and it will only be for an hour or two, while everyone is resting. Clients don’t sleep, so neither do I,” she joked. The two had been walking for a minute or two, now at the edge of the tents where the three large wagons waited for their travelers. The siege weapon parts had already been loaded, strapped down, and covered with tarps earlier that day, so all they needed to do was gather the group. Two or three smaller carts would be accompanying the group as well, though nothing of true value would be in those save for some rations and packs.
The young woman had stored her pack in the front of the smallest of the 3 large carts, having decided that would be where she would ride the trip out. As she looked over the goods, Rogus called back to one of their first meetings in Lycia, which had happened a few weeks prior. Had it already been that long? She’d been so busy as of late; Charlotte shook her head, amazed with how quickly time seemed to be passing. “I think we can make some time for that,” she smiled as she smoothed the edge of the tarp in her wagon before reaching up to hoist herself into the front of the wagon. “I owe you, after all.”
Before their conversation could continue, a loud yell erupted from somewhere inside the camp. Charlotte’s head whipped to look in the direction of the noise. Her mind on the trip ahead, Charlotte was determined that she would not let anything slow them down, and as such she felt a responsibility to figure out who the hell was stupid enough to be shouting like a lout. She lowered her arm, looking to Rogus, her features now soured with her annoyance. “I swear...” Before Rogus could respond, Charlotte began walking back in the direction of the center of the camp. If there was a fight, whoever was involved was off the mission. Period.
-----
As Dayan responded, the man’s already pink face began to redden, to the point that one could have sworn he might be choking with how purple it had become. He threw the remainder of the food he held in his right hand violently to the ground, shouting whatever came to mind as he looked to close the gap between himself and the unfamiliar face. As he yelled, bits of saliva and duck flew from his mouth, though of course the man could have cared less.
“YEW’RE GONNAH REGRAT THAT YEH GLAIKIT BAWBAG, I’MA BILE YER HEID YEW MANKY KNOB, SWEAR ON ME MA N’ PAW, I’LL-“
Just as the oafish man was readying himself to raise a burly, curled fist to Dayan, another stranger stepped in, though this one tried a more diplomatic approach with the rebel. Fists still balled and ready to be thrown, the man stopped his forward approach for a moment. No longer yelling, the man still spoke with a throaty growl and with a heck of a lot of sarcasm. “We’d be a lot betah’ if yew hackits would shove off an’ leave the fightin’ to the real men! Weh dun need yew coinmongers.”
A few yells of agreement came from behind the grizzly man, who’s brow was so furrowed it was amazing it didn’t fall off. He closed the gap between him and the two outsiders, coming close enough that the two men would be able to smell the ale coming off his breath. “We dun care who hired yeh, lads, so SHUT YOUR GEGGIE AN’ GIT IT UP YIE!” With that, the man threw a punch, clearly unable to be reasoned with.
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Dayan
Thief
Posts: 40
Profession: Doctor
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Wyatt
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Post by Dayan on Aug 12, 2014 12:50:46 GMT -6
Dayan was more than willing to play along with the new cavalier for now. It was an easier way out of this mess then trying to fight five muscle heads. One of them, maybe two, Dayan was sure he could subdue. Five of them? Those weren't good odds.
Even when things seemed to be progressing porrly, Dayan refused to draw his weapon. Mostly because his enemies had chosen not to draw theirs either. Being the first to take lethal force would not aide this situation at all.
The man shouted his curses and threats, reeking of liver failure. Dayan sized him up, judging his build from what he could see. When the man closed in for a punch, Dayan made a quick and decisive move. A sharp, solid jab, aimed just above the mans ample gut. The quick strike to the solar plexus dropped the man like a sack of flour, heaving and gasping for air. He'd be fine in a minute or two, but it had taken him out of the fight for now.
The fist the man had thrown fell short, as Dayan's blow had been quicker and taken all the wind out of his opponent's sails.
"I was hired to keep you brutes alive. Though if you'd like some classical anesthesia, I'm more than happy to provide," he lied. Might as well keep up the cavalier's ruse. "Think carefully if you want to strike at the man who might have a knife inside of you if this trip goes south. All it would take is one small cut, and the injury was far too severe for me to help."
Dayan gave a downright dark look to the remainder of the thugs, wondering if their ego would hold after such a declaration. It might give them pause, it might make them even more violent. No way to know. One thing was for sure, that trick with the first brute wouldn't work twice. The others would be guarding against it now.
Still, at least this random cavalier seemed to be on his side.
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Rogus
Thief
Arrogance is a virtue.
Posts: 178
Profession: Stealing yo' gold
Guild: SS
Affinity: Fire
OoC Alias: Gus
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Post by Rogus on Aug 12, 2014 15:37:23 GMT -6
Hey, I was close. He chuckled as she finally smiled and corrected him. I see, what the businesswoman you are! He returned a joke of his own along with his own, slightly crooked, smile. He grinned so often that when he actually smiled, the left corner of his lips curled a bit higher than the right. Her comment about how he knew how nobles were didn't fall on deaf ears either, and was reminded once again that Myscha was just as sharp as a well-kept blade. He wished she hadn't made such a hint toward his past, it sounded normal enough for someone to say to another, but to him it was actually the truth: He really did know exactly how nobles were when it came to their coin. He knew, or was fooled, that she didn't mean it in any since other than a topic of conversation, but he still hoped no one had heard her in a rare fit of paranoia; he was always on his toes, sure, but he considered paranoia to be a illogical fear rather than simply always being careful.
Rogus grinned at her notion of a debt to him, and immediately dispelled the impossible fear of someone hearing from his thoughts. He couldn't tell if she was teasing him or actually felt the obligation to 'owe' him anything. He wagered it was the former, although he'd only known her for a relatively short time Rogus knew she wasn't keen on the idea of debts. Also, from what he could tell she was a woman after his own heart in a manner of speaking; he'd have teased her in the same way if their positions of 'debtor' and 'debtee' were switched, and he could always make time for merry making at a pub (Or anywhere else that served ale or whiskey for that matter, although he favored the latter). As she hoisted herself up onto the cart Rogus stood and admired her smile, although it looked like he was just paying attention. I'll be sure to save you a seat then!
Just after he spoke, shouting began to erupt from somewhere within the camp behind them. Her reaction reminded him of ale, oddly enough. One moment it was there and happily being enjoyed, and the next it was either gone, or had turned sour, and thus could no longer be appreciated for its subtle beauty. That thought brought Rogus to imagining himself trying to use such a rubbish comparison to impress her, and he quickly dismissed it as something to joke about later. With her storming off in a fit of frustration, Rogus had little choice but to follow and share a bit of her frustration. He knew enough about this work to be irked by the idea of some idiots getting into a fight. She had walked far faster than he, but he managed to get there as the bloodied-boot man made one of the most impressive threats he'd ever heard. Blood or no, he liked this odd fellow's stubborness, and the fact the Cen man had seemingly come to his aid did a few things to improve Rogus's neutral opinion of the mercenary. Normally he'd have stepped in at that point and told a few jokes and offer out booze to both parties, but this was Myscha's operation and he had too much respect for her to intervene unless things got much uglier than a few heated words. He was sure she'd be able to handle this without his direct involvement anyhow, she was rather intimidating when she had to be. The boisterous and rather unintelligible man seemed the type to melt in the face of an angry, attractive woman, but the other guy?
Rogus gave the man a rather scrutinizing gaze as he sized him up properly, though blood-boots wouldn't see it unless he looked over his shoulder. That blood could be from a freshly slaughtered animal, but Rogus suspected that was not the case given the man's volatile disposition. The fact he hinted that he was a physician of some sort intrigued him, but he was technically here to protect his partner, and blood-boots was definitely the one Rogus would suspect to try something, if anything, that he'd have to deal with.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Aug 14, 2014 19:46:59 GMT -6
"Woah! Woah! Everybody just calm down!" Cen placed himself in between the growling refugees and the far quieter stranger. Even if he was quieter, the man was still dangerous. What had Cen gotten himself into? A terrible, awful situation, that's what. These refugees sure were large. And angry. And not at all the type of men Cen would expect to be fleeing the war. Cen didn't know what was going on, but he did know that in some way, he'd been had.
Cen decided he needed to get this stranger out of here. He'd been hired to protect these men, and he was at least going to try. "Listen Doc," Cen quickly turned to the man who identified himself as a doctor of sorts. "We need to get your things ready. Lot more things we need to pack than these gentlemen here." As Cen passed the stranger, he placed a hand on the man's shoulder for a moment, them resumed his casual stroll back to his things. He hoped the doctor would follow him instead of violence.
Ooc: Sorry it's so short.
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Post by Charlotte on Aug 14, 2014 21:23:29 GMT -6
The men who had been sitting with Dayan’s challenger had begun standing and readying themselves for a good old fashioned brawl when they watched their large friend dropped to the ground – and hard. It was tough to believe that the eyes of burly, toughened brigands could grow so round and glassy, almost as if they were no longer interested in the fight they had been so ready to jump into. Maybe they’d be able to overpower one man, sure, but was it worth trying?
As Cen urged the doctor to take himself out of the situation, Charlotte arrived, her slender hands balled into fists as if she was ready for a fight. The brigands around the fire pit looked at her briefly before their eyes darted back to Dayan. Charlotte’s gaze, though, was focused on the lumbering oaf on the ground, who had been reduced to a wheezing lump. She shook her head, looking up to the stranger – wait, was this the man who had passed by her earlier? She hadn’t paid him much heed then, but the hairstyle looked familiar.
“Pathetic,” she mumbled, remembering that the beaten man was supposed to come with the caravan. Stepping closer to the man who was now attempting to roll himself up into a sitting position, Charlotte crouched down, her silken blonde hair slipping to cover part of her face as she brought her face closer to the grounded man. “How are we supposed to trust you to protect the caravan when you can’t even protect yourself?” When no response came save for some spat insults in between labored breaths, Charlotte stood, straightening up as she looked back to the other men. Charlotte sighed, her patience having worn thin.
“Is standing around and staring the only thing you people were trained to do?” She raised her arms in a questioning manner before motioning back towards the carts. “Finish your meals and get moving! We’re leaving in half an hour!” Grumbles sounded from the Bernese men, clearly unhappy with this petite woman barking orders at them. They heeded her words, shuffling off towards their tents and packs to ready themselves to leave, but as Charlotte watched them move, she knew they weren’t 'taking orders' from her. In their minds, she had likely done little more than remind them of the time.
But as everyone ended up in the right place at the right time, at the moment Charlotte didn’t care what the men thought. She was frustrated, tired, and uncharacteristically worried for their first night of travel. It wasn’t often you were trying to move something so large in plain sight. For now, though, the blonde had other things to think about, mainly the doctor who had laid out the burliest rebel guard their caravan would have had. No doubt she wouldn’t let the sop on the ground accompany them, but who was this other man?
“You,” Charlotte’s eyes flitted to the red-haired ‘intruder,’ shifting her body to completely face him. She made sure the rebel guards were out of earshot before she continued. She’d overheard a bit of what Cen had said as she approached, and was slowly putting the pieces together of who the man might be. “Cen said you’re the healer for the trip? I don’t recall you meeting with the rest of us for lunch.” She was curious as to what the man would say. Cen had no knowledge of any members of the caravan considering he was hired, so it was likely that he was just trying to keep the stranger out of trouble. She’d have to remember he was a bleeding heart, unlike this doctor. Charlotte hadn’t witnessed the fight, but the aftermath was enough to tell her he was ruthless. If the doctor played his cards right, Charlotte wouldn’t mind having him along on the job instead of the sniveling oaf he’d beaten down. The man would probably do a better job, anyways, even if he wasn't with the rebels.
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Dayan
Thief
Posts: 40
Profession: Doctor
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Wyatt
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Post by Dayan on Aug 14, 2014 21:49:46 GMT -6
Dayan heard the cavalier's request, and consider it the wisest course of action. It would seem he'd been conscripted into service here.
If only all his infiltrations were this easy.
And then, as if on cue, the temperamental blond from earlier burst onto the scene. Lovely, this just got a lot more complicated. She took command of the situation with surprising ease. Hard to believe that oafs like this even knew how to take orders from a woman. They seemed the type to not listen to anyone who didn't have more muscle than they did.
The area cleared out remarkably quickly, and she turned to him. Her gaze was steely, but he met it straight on. It was an unspoken battle of wills, as if they were both sizing each other up with just eye contact. "I was gathering herbs for the trip," he said, tossing a small leather pouch on the ground along with a bloodied sickle, a severed length of chain attached to it. Some of the herbs contained in the bag would be obvious to any adventurer, standard vulneraries and the like. However, more than a few of them would be unknown to those without a rudimentary knowledge of medicine. Anti toxins, sedatives and a variety of others with more uncommon uses.
"Someone decided that a man gathering plants was a prime target for thievery. I disavowed him of that thought," he said, gesturing to the blood on the sickle, and his boots that he had only now noticed. In truth, most of Dayan's story was accurate. He had been gathering some herbs earlier today, as the plants would still be fresh. He just hadn't been doing it when the thug approached him, nor had he been doing it for their benefit.
Not like they needed to know that. "Despite my profession, I am not particularly fond of... the sorts of people I am hired to keep on this side of the burning hells."
Dayan kept his eyes locked on Charlotte the entire time. He didn't waver or back down at all. What she would decide would set the tone for this entire encounter. She didn't seem the kind to straight up murder someone for defending themselves, but people could surprise you.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Aug 17, 2014 16:40:24 GMT -6
Cen took his plate back in his hands, and sat down on his stone. Placing the plate onto his lap, he tore a large section of the breast away from the bird's bones. He brought the meat to his lips, and took the food into his mouth so that his fingernails were covered by his cheeks. He sat for a short while picking the chicken clean. In a moment of embarrassment, he quickly shot glances around the camp. People who didn't grow up on farms typically found Cen's portions uncouth, and he didn't want to offend anyone's sensibilities. Cen look over to where the stranger now stood being interrogated by the blonde. The blonde seemed angry at her men and the stranger, which was a lot of anger, especially considering she'd been angry leaving the tent where he'd talked to her. Watching her speak to her men, Cen doubted he wanted her angry at him. Growing up with mostly women, the thought of any woman being disappointed or angry with him was terrifying. He'd try to avoid upsetting her, she looked far angrier than any women Cen had known at the farm.
With nothing else to do, Cen continued periodically looking at people around the camp as he polished the shaft oh his lance. When he'd polished it to the point where anymore polish would have his hands sliding north and south, he took one of his javelins out of the quiver, and set about polishing it just the same. He'd know they were moving when someone told him, or when the carts started rolling.
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