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Looking For A Potential Liege Lord. (Based In A Pub)


Riftblade123
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In the dark corner of a bar there stands a lady who wears dark cloths. Her lips are dark purple and her body slender, her two daggers put away as she takes a sip from her glass.

 

"Ah, so you must be someone who wishes to talk to me, eh? So what will it be this time? A dark, passionate kiss or perhaps you wish to hire me for a more, long lasting influence? I should tell you that my name is Lady Tayeko Darktongue, yes the name isn't my true name and don't expect to get the real name for a very long time. Anyway, do you want me to buy you a drink or don't ya trust me?" Tayeko grins as she gestures towards the bar.

 

(Come on guys and ladies, lets RP :) )

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The Elkin Stalker had wandered into the pub looking for information, otherwise he'd never set foot in such a place.  Pubs and other places humans and other humanlike races gather were always two crowded for one accustomed to being alone in a forest.  But he was mildly annoyed.  He solemnly chewed on a a small branch of maple he had taken from the yard of a nobleman nearby.

 

His eyes turned to a lady wearing dark cloths, who's gaze met his, his Elkin eyes just making out her eyes in the shadows.  A quick assessment by the stalker led him to believe she'd be a good lead to chase, the females humans find attractive tend to know things.

 

Uninvited he takes the seat across from her, ignoring the stares of other bar patrons who he hoped were admiring his magnificent antlers.

 

He snorts at her husky greeting, and slowly takes the maple sprig from betwixt his teeth and lips.

 

"Although you are obviously smitten with me at first sight to make such an offer, my lady Darktongue, I was hoping I could use your tongue for another purpose." He settles back into the chair, ignoring her offer of what settle for a "drink" here.  "I am looking for a band of brigands that bother the highlands west of town."

 

He leans forward long enough to shift his bow which was digging into his back before settling back into the chair.  He keeps his eyes on the lady, regretting this almost immediately.  He would like to look about the pub for other leads but a feeling in the pit of his stomach tells him he ought not take his eyes of this lady for now. He settles for chewing his maple sprig.

Edited by Nautilus

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Tayeko chuckles a few times and then leans back more into the Shadows.

 

"Brigands eh? I heard about them but never really did anything about them, didn't think they were good company or good competition. However, if they are annoying you then maybe, just maybe, I would be willing to help a fine man such as yourself out. By the looks of you, your an Elkin...I don't really trust your kind but then again no one trusts my kind so we are good! So how much you paying for these Brigands deaths? And make a good offer cause I haven't got all day to bargain."

 

Tayeko finished her drink in one large gulp and put the glass on the table, pushing it to the end so that the Elkin and Tayeko could stare at each other, eye to eye. If she got lucky she might even get a kiss out of this but she was certain she could give her famous "Dark Tongue Kiss" to those poor brigands...Mercy be on those poor people who had now brought the wrath of me upon them.

 

"Oh and one thing, When I go on a task, there is a bond...I need to take something of yours so that I know I will get something before I go on this dangerous mission OR you can simply pay me in cash now?"

 

Tayeko grinned at the Elkin.

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He sits there for a moment appraising Tayeko while he opens his mouth wide enough to pull whats left of the maple sprig in his mouth and he chews it violently for a moment before swallowing it.  He chases it with a swig from a small canvas waterskin which hangs on a shoulder strap.

 

What kind of harlot occupied the seat across the table from him?  She smelled... odd, and he wondered what sort of venom those lips might contain.

 

He pulls out a small purse of coins and empties it onto his side of the table.  Six coppers and two silver hit the table.  He looks at her and grins slightly.

 

"Although my wealth must astound you, I think you misunderstood what I asked of you.  I would much rather see these brigands in my own bow-sight rather than pay someone to kill them..." he turns to look at Tayeko more directly "or fruitlessly waste my coins for you to go share with the brigands."

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Tayeko reached over and took the coins, smirking as she licked her lips.

 

"Alright, make you a deal...I will guide you to the Brigands, you get to kill them and all that but in the end...I get their armour, weapons and any coins they have. You can have anything that you claim to be of "value" since I doubt we agree what is valuable and what is not. So, if you like my terms...Take my hand, I promise it isn't poisoned."

 

Tayeko offered her hand, the other hand was holding a dagger but it was probably more for security incase this creature infront of her attempted to attack her. Tayeko didn't like what she saw in this creature, he seemed too noble, too kind, too trusting...And he was male!

 

No, didn't like what she saw at all...

 

(( Loving your RP mate! Keep it up! :D Others, feel free to join! ))

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Oh the gall of this woman, reaching all the way across the table and taking his money!

 

He looked around the pub for more alluring leads of information that would lead to his mate's killers.  He wasn't that sad that his mate was gone, it just seemed like a good reason to hunt something down and kill it.  But he would just rather be told where their hangout was so he could terrorize them himself.

 

That and he didn't trust this woman as far as he could spit.  He knew he had to keep his ears, eyes and nose sharp or he could end up roasting over a spit for dinner for Tayeko and possibly her band of brigands.  It's all the value he could afford them aside from his bow after giving Tayeko all of his coins.

 

"I am not sure if I can make that deal..." He murmurs...

 

He stands and raises his voice enough to be heard all across the empty pub.  "Is there anyone else who wants to go kill those filthy brigands?"

 

If he was being led into a trap, he wanted some back up!

Edited by Nautilus

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"In this place? I wouldn't recommend it. I know almost everyone in this bar. So here is an alternative offer...You tell me what you want me to do and I will tell you weather or not it is acceptable."

 

Tayeko looked up at the creature. Just who did he think he was? Asking for help in one of the most famous bars known to man, an assassins bar at that!

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“Aye.”


 


Long and slender the hooded figure is that pushes away from the wall taking graceful strides toward the pair in the pub. Bright amber eyes peer from beneath the ebony cloak as she pulls a stool up beside the table.


 


“I will go… I am in need of an adventure.”


 


Lorelyn had been keeping careful watch over pub eves dropping for any hint of adventure that might be afoot; and it would appear these two had exactly what she sought. With a swift motion the young stalker kicks her feet up dropping them on the table in a crossed fashion, leaning back into an elongated position. Letting out a rather un-amused yawn she reaches behind her hood, intertwining her fingers together.


 


“So when do we leave? Names Lorelyn by the way.”


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((Sorry had a hectic couple days))

 

He looked over at Lorelyn and just looking at the other younger stalker made him feel old. Well perhaps he could pass on some knowledge he had thus far been denied passing onto his own kin.

 

Politeness would beckon him to reveal his own name but this old stalker wasn't big on politeness and he wasn't sure if he even liked his old name.

 

A quick glance around the pub and a shrug.

 

"Nice to meet you, Lorelyn. This is Tayeko. I don't think anyone else seeks adventure here... So let's go."

 

He grimly grins slightly in anticipation of the adventure that lies ahead. Some bands of brigands can be very large.

 

He straightens his shortsword on his belt and the bow across his shoulder as he heads for the door.

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Wobbling to her feet and leaning heavily on the same clay tankard she'd somehow emptied into her system, a wee brown Guenetian raises her hand. "I am.... *hic*... wait..." She looks deeply into the corner, squinting at the assembling party. "I am.... Willimina Flintspeck... and I don't know what you're doing... but the ale here is terrible." The way she's wobbling seems to suggest the quality of the beverage hadn't slowed her down. "And you're going to ... *hic* need a medic... if you're heading *hic* west... there's a thieves ring out there.... *hic*.... keeps ... hitting trading caravans." She reaches behind her and grabs small ruck-sack that she attempts to shoulder but it ends up pulling her backwards onto her rear and she half hiccups, half squeaks indignantly, looking around to make sure they were still there, still on her rump now with the sack on her back, she declares, pointing to the heavens. "Okay.... I'm ready." She topples off the table, picks herself up, dusts herself off, and scampers in a rather not-straight line for the door after the others. "wwwaaaiiiittttt! I said I'm coming!"

Edited by fawne

 

 

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--In a secluded cave not too far away from the tavern--

A blond male human steps forward into the light of the campfire. His discomfort disguised in a thin veneer of confidence as he bowed deeply towards the colossus of a brigand in front of him. The bandit leader gaze upon him expectantly as he gorged himself on a large turkey leg.

"Ya done talkin' the troops, tactician?" the bandit leader addressed him impatiently.

"Yes, sir, I spoke to your subordinates. I've learned their strengths, their weaknesses... or at least what their perceive to be their own strengths and weaknesses. It's er... difficult to command soldiers without any training, sir. I wish you'd reconsider the assault on the enemy caravan until I feel like can lead the troops to their full potential.  Additionally, sir, I'm called Frost, in the event my liege didn't mention my name in the letter he sent announcing my arrival."

The bandit leader spat, annoyed.

"I know 'at your name is, Tactician, you got sent here to be our tactician and that means you're called Tactician. I don't give a poorly made socks what your name is or what your skills are. We don't need you here at all! I don't give a poorly made socks what your liege, the king, wants of us either! He hired my brigands and me to do what we do best, to raid the bloody caravans around here and we sure as hell don't need some fancy nobleman tactician to do that. The moneys good though so I'll humor the king some and put you in charge of some of my men." The bandit leader leaned back on his poorly constructed throne as he added "And don't, sir, me! Show some bloody respect! It's <<your excelency>> from now on, understood?"

Subordinated to a brutish bandit leader with a god complex... great. It was times like these that made him doubt his lieges competence. Frost sighed internally. Regardless this was the task he had been assigned and he intended to fulfill it.

"Does that means the attack of the caravan will continue as previously ordered, your excellency?"  Frost asked hopefully, perhaps he could convince the blubbering oaf in front of him to call off the attack before he could train the bandits to follow basic battle commands.

"And wait 3 more days for another caravan to arrive? Not bloody likely! Our scout reported that the caravan will leave the western road from the town in an hour. GET GOING!"

Frost sighed once more as he turned and headed towards the cave exit, clutching at the leather strip that suspended his crossbow across his back. As he walked outside he gestured for his five bandits subordinates to follow.

To the bandit leaders credit he had been given a map of the road the caravan would follow. He inspected the terrain around the road the caravan would travel once more before noticing something. He smirked, perhaps he could make this work after all? Rolling up the map he lead his little band of brutes towards the main road.

 

((heh, apparently this forum has a (fairly amusing) foul language filter. In the original text the words "poorly made sock" are replaced with, well, foul language))

Edited by FrostTactics
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A boot nudged his ribcage. "Oi. You were hired as a guard. Get guardin'."

 

Moeghyn cracked an eye behind the silver of his half-mask, his face cracking in a grin as he chewed more loudly on the tuft of wheat sticking out from between his lips. "Co' your temper neighbor. The summer is long yet. There's nary a few deer and a squirrel betwixt us and Yarheim." He stretched out his lithe body in the bottom of the wagon, his armor creaking as he crossed his legs. "Or are you thinking a few shrubs might jump out and bite yer ass?"

 

The man scowled at him before leaning against the side of the wagon, his spear braced against his shoulder. His disdain was clear.

 

Too tense. Too prepared. He might just make it to winter. Moeghyn chuckled inwardly. It'd all still burn. Every man. Every tree. The Hunger would come for them too in time. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun. It was easy to think it'd all last forever. That every day would be bright and productive. But there were many suns. Many worlds. His hand slowly closed into a fist, blotting out the light.

 

"All but for the pride of Gods." His grin was practically menacing.

 

"What?" The man turned back to look at him, his square face confused.

 

"Nothing that concerns you." Moeghyn rose to a sitting position and kicked his legs off the back, humming softly to himself. A song this world would not know. A dirge he'd learned a long time ago. In a place now black with the dead. It was a good day. The Summer was indeed long.

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Eager with anticipation for the hunt the female rises quickly. It had been a long month and those who were willing… or stupid enough to seek adventure were far and few between. At least she would get a good run in before heading for the next large city and who knows there may be a castle to siege gods willing!


 


Yet something small caused her to waiver halfway to the heavy oaken doors – a small voice, Guenetian perhaps? Lorelyn turns around swiftly and peers sharply about until alas her eyes lay rest upon the petite creature. She was scrambling to tail the trio hardly straight at all as Lorelyn couldn’t help but let a small snicker escape parted lips.


 


“My… my… what do we have here? I’m impressed with your resilience against Bogdan’s ale. That particular brew leaves most on their arses and others in the flower beds. Come along then little one… this will be most entertaining.” 


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"Ale?!" She falls in besides the huntress, occasionally using her forepaws, uncivilized though it be, to move along at the humans pace. "This swill isn't ale, it's cat p!ss and stale at that!" This she calls over her shoulder at the bar as they make for the door. "izzuz small fardling wonder it kills off so few." It seems as though she can either talk or stagger, and her stationary ranting is abbreviated by small spurts of movement to catch up. "You want ALE you gotta find Anamaht Godsbrew!" She announces it with both hands in the air as if to praise the man before scampering to catch up with Lorelyns stride. "Hand him some hops and he'll make them art."

 

The small creature looks unremarkable, no jewelery, no finery, but her plain linen and leather clothes are lovingly cared for, with out fray nor stain, crisp and white as though it was shorn from a snowshod lamb the day before. Of armaments there's a single hardened leather plate hugging her torso, and while meticulously kept it had scores and pocks, and overly scrubbed patches where stains had set. On her hip was a small pistol, a rapier of daggers-length, and a hip-flask of typical size that looked rather ridiculous on her.

 

Her ruck is stuffed full, of what you're not sure but there's a lot of straight, narrow lines visible through the thick, weathered leather.

Edited by fawne

 

 

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The stalker turned and peered at Flintspeck the drunken hamster and could barely hold back his snort. She mentioned something about healing so she could be useful, if she didn't let the alcohol get the best of her.

 

He suspected west was the direction to head. He glanced over at Tayeko who appeared to be slowly finishing her drink.

 

He looked back at Flintspeck and Lorelyn and adjusted his leather breastplate which hid the wood underneath the leather.

 

"Hopefully we can track them and catch them by surprise. We might not have many other advantages. Perhaps they'll be busy rather than trying to rob travellers. Either way we best stay off the roads. Let's go!"

 

He turned and left the bar and started heading southwest out of town.

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Frost felt exhausted, the terrain had turned mountainous as expected. He could feel the journey taxing every centimeter of his body. In contrast his subordinates seemed rather cheerful, they were obviously far more accustomed to the area than he was himself. He could hear one of them telling a vulgar joke at the expense of their soon to be victims, the others laughed. In poor taste perhaps, he considered scolding them for it, but in the end decided against it.

 

In a more civilized environment a superior expressing their authority over the common rank-and-file might be considered good conduct. Here however... it would be best to leave them to their own devises. These were common bandits, practically no better than animals. They might refuse to follow his orders if they felt they were being oppressed. Perhaps they'd even attack him outright. Frost was never particularly physical in nature, fairly short for his kind and too skinny to be any sort of challenge to any one of these people. If any of them decided to challenge him in combat he'd have no choice but to decline. Thereby losing respect and authority over the troops. Luckily the soldiers didn't seem very bright. They'd probably never question something unless provoked to do so. Hopefully he could rely on that until the battle was over. Then he might have forged some semblance of loyalty depending how well the battle goes... or perhaps they'd all be killed in the fighting. He smiled slightly. A grim thought. Perhaps he was lucky to have been dealt such unlikable chess pieces. 

 

When he read the map for the first time he'd been surprised to see trees dotting the landscape even in areas depicted as being depicted as fairly steep and mountainous. The trees would provide good cover before and during the assault. The caravan had only one possible route to its destination which effectively meant he could pick out where he wanted the battle to take place. They were for all intents and purposes the attackers, but they could fight on his own terms. Couple that with a height advantage and the element of surprise and victory is practically guaranteed. He couldn't possibly ask for better terrain.  

 

As they continued onward he finally spotted a clearing in the distance. They had arrived. The trees within a couple meters of the road had all been cleared out. Partly, he suspected, to acquire easily transportable lumber and partly to put common bandit tactics at a disadvantage. He chuckled internally, he could definitely use this to his advantage.

 

The road was quiet, they'd have plenty of time to pick out a suitable spot for an ambush. The road was flanked to the left by a slope upwards, an open, grassy area ending in a dense treeline about 10 meters away. The right flank was a steeper downward slope, again fairly open ground until it ended in a dense treeline. After finally finding somewhere suitable Frost gave the soldiers their orders. Four of them were to hide among the trees, one were to begin chopping down a tree close to the road.  

 

 

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He crept into to forest and followed a game trail south of the road that left west out of town. He was unsure if his pub mates were following him anymore. He paused for thought consider whether or not he wanted to die tonight facing insurmountable odds...

 

Ah, screw it with poorly made socks! Why not?!

 

While he was lost in thought the sounds of wooden wheels and hooves hit his ears. His Elkins ears flicked in that direction.

 

Is that a caravan heading out of town? This might be a bit easier than he thought. If memory served him correctly there was a glade a few miles up the road.

 

He glared behind him, and shrugged. He knew he had to hurry. He wanted to get ahead of the caravan and see if he could spot the glade without the brigands catching him. A tall order on a narrow game trail even for a stalker.

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While initially her plan was 'follow the guy with the branches on his head' it somewhat failed her when they entered a forest. Her back up plan 'follow the moving branches' dunked just as terrifically, and now she was trying her best to be as quiet as possible on the heels of Lorelyn, and as her head cleared somewhat it became easier and easier to dance around particularly dry looking leaves and twigs and move about on only 2 feet. The weight of her satchel near pulled her off balance here and there, but she always corrected just in the nick of time, as though this were expected and practiced. "Where did that yak-headed blighter run off to?" She muttered in a breath to herself. "What ever happened to heading west?"

 

 

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