Kloudy
The Lore Savant
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Fantasy Realms of Aldaan ~Justicar Knightdom~
- Thread starter Kloudy
- Start date
SentinelSevn
Professional Coffee Addict
The city of Ironheart. A fortress, moreso than an actual city. With most of its population serving the Knightdom as elite soldiers, with the sole intent of cleansing Aldaan from the likes of evil and all those who serve it. Legendary knights, with the power and grace to lay down entire squadron’s of any kingdom’s footsoldiers. Here they lie, dormant and awaiting for such a force to arise from the shadows.
And the training of such knights, ends with a trial such as the one set to occur on this very day. A trial that is the testimony of one’s strength, and their willingness to exceed the expectations of one’s self in the aid of those who are unable to defend themselves from the forces of evil.
Within the center of a city lay a courtyard, rectangular in shape which faced the entrance to the Knightdom’s barracks, and the opposing corner headed by watchtowers with a set of guards positioned at the top of each of their towers. What was once a beautiful field of freshly trimmed grass, looked to be recently uprooted in one corner by the likes of two squires dueling to their hearts content, and their leading knight watching from beside the barracks’ gate. The wind had since died down, with the air thick in the squire’s anticipation of the day’s events.
“Again!” Barked out the first squire, a head of soot grey hair leaping forward. The dirt kicked up at his feet, moving at a speed that was used to the weight of the armor that was strapped to his torso. In his left he faced his kite shield towards his opponent, advancing forward like a moving wall. In his other hand, he held a wooden mace reeled back to deliver a strike.
“Eldin give me a second to-.. !” The second squire was hardly prepared for another bout, given barely enough time to ready his shield in front of himself once again as the strike of a mace bounced off of its face. He picked up his sword to try and ready himself to counter-attack, but the weapon was already sent out of his control and towards his side, the force of a shield bash reverberating down to his shoulder before he even realized what was happening.
Eldin watched as he was given another opening, pressing forward again to smash the face of his shield against his opponent, picking up even more ground as he continued the aggressive pushes. He had been at this for hours now, adrenaline rushing through his veins for the trial he was expected to undergo, and combat being the only outlet he had to not spiral into anxiety.
His attack on the shield in front of him became a mindless pattern of shield bash, swing of the mace, and an occasional parry of the incoming sword. Eldin was more intent on thinking back towards the many paths in front of him for the trial.
Which of the paths in the Ruins of the Eclipse brought the least amount of fighting, Or perhaps the most, to slay even more of its evil and bring even more renown to his name. The caves beneath the Skirk Province; made by either the goblins and their miners in the search of rare ore, or the multitude of different burrowing creatures that could swallow him whole if he was careless enough to fall into their maw. And the path of the Cryikk Wastes. If the large beasts that lay slumbering within didn’t get to him, it was going to be the frostbite.
What even more worried him wasn’t the paths. For the most part they were memorized like they were singed onto the back his hands. It was the escorts to which he was to provide safe passage to. Each of their deaths reflected onto him as his inability to provide for the lives of the people he made a vow to protect. But they were no Knights of Justicar. They were weak. Adventurers expecting to be provided protection, and in turn get paid for being babysat. The idea made the blood beneath his skin boil.
His thoughts reflected back towards his previous attempts at making the journey alone. The times he had been near death, and saved by his companions for being far too reckless and independent. This would be his first attempt making the journey without someone strictly superior in strength to himself. And the idea of encountering the worst frightened him.
This was reflected by his fighting, to which he became more aggressive as he gave it more thought. There was more force behind each swing of the mace, to the point that the wooden club had begun to splinter at its head. Swing after swing, he had forgotten about the squire that stood at its other side just taking the brunt of these blows awaiting his time to retaliate.
And his time was soon. Eldin’s reckless abandon to deliver blow after blow left him exposed in his own defenses, and predictable in his swings. The second squire ducked beneath the swing of his mace, and Eldin’s eyes widened in the sudden change of reaction. The wooden sword within the second squire’s hand hooked beneath Eldin’s ankles, and he watched as the world went tumbling backwards as the ground beneath his feet were sweeped from beneath him. As his back crashed against the soft earth, he let out a heavy wheeze as the breath was force from his chest, and the wooden tip of a sword was pressed onto the soft flesh of his neck.
“I think that’s a point for me,” The second squire pointed out cheekily, a toothy grin plastered on his lips.
“The first of our seven other rounds,” was all Eldin could muster without sounding sour over his loss. He had allowed himself to become distracted, admittedly he had only become increasingly so as time continued to progress ever closer to the appointed time of meeting.
Still lying with his back to the dirt, he allowed himself to relax for the first time that morning, and looked up towards the sun in the sky. It shined from high above them, from what looked to be its highest point in the day. It was nearly noon. He turned his head towards his knight, Sir Wallace, who had planted himself in the shade of the barracks gates.
“I was going to let you lay on the ground and let you set yourself up for embarrassment when your entourage arrived here at noon, but you decided to lose earlier than I expected.” Sir Wallace goaded, a hearty bellowing of his voice lead into his amused chuckling. “I’m quite surprised none of them decided to show up early for an early introduction. You’ll be entrusted with their lives, after all.”
A hand offered in Eldin’s direction drew his direction away from the knight, and he looked up to see the other squire giving him assistance to his feet. Clasping the other squire by the forearm, he raised himself up to his feet and gave the other squire a pat on his back with his other hand. “I’m grateful for the last minute training.”
“Think nothing of it. But you better come back and show me up with that shiny new Justicar medal, knight-to-be.”
“Then you better pray the party isn’t made of mostly helpless mages.” He joked, and wished the other squire well before leaving him to his own devices. Eldin made his way towards Sir Wallace, awaiting any moment for the first set of guests to arrive. He took up a spot standing besides the knight, and his gaze followed the path of dirt that led to the gates of the courtyard.
“Your armor is dusted with dirt and grass, at least look presentable,” said Wallace, scoffing at his squire’s lack of presentation.
“You can’t expect me to maintain a pristine presentation throughout the whole journey. It’s going to get covered in dirt and blood anyway.” Eldin retorted back. Just then, the sound of the gates creaking open silenced the two Justicars. The first adventurer had arrived..
The Justicar Quest
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
(
Coyote Hart
)
Current NPCs in play:
- Eldin Weistann - Justicar Squire
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
(
Coyote Hart
)Current NPCs in play:
- Eldin Weistann - Justicar Squire
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
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Fred Colon
It was so much easier to blame it on Them.
Polly mashed a beetle between her teeth as she walked through the clean, orderly streets of Justicar.
“Bleh.” She said, grimacing, “Arox Beetle. Tastes like feces.” A bit of an exaggeration. It wasn’t that bad, a bit too earthy for Polly’s taste, but it didn’t taste exactly like feces, which was actually a little surprising, as that’s what this variety of beetle ate. She reached back into the bottle at her waist, the already writhing container seemed to writhe more, as if the insects were intelligent enough to know what was in store for them should Polly’s heavy, leather gloved fingers find them.
“This vun is for you, Jeremiah. Your turn.” She said in a sing song voice, pulling an insect out at random. She lifted it up, towards her shoulder where an enormous dull green Bullfrog, nearly the size of her head was perched. “Ah! You lucky tadpole! A Fire Centipede! Let me have this vun! You know I love centipedes!” But Jeremiah’s tongue lashed out, and the wriggling, many legged insect vanished inside his too large mouth. “Greedy piglet. I vont give it to you next time, if I get a silk vurm on my turn.” Polly brushed a spider that was making a bid for freedom back into the bottle and put a stopper on it. “But that’s enough for now. Ve have to save some for the trip.”
Jeremiah let out a low, mournful ‘croak’.
“I don’t care if you’re still hungry. You’re fat enough as it is. Perhaps if you eat less you’ll be less an enormous lump of useless.”
Jeremiah croaked again.
“Vatch your mouth or I’ll feed you to a dog. I don’t need you, you know. In fact, I vould probably be better off. My shoulder gets tired hauling your carcass everywhere.”
People on the street eyed Polly as she walked along, but she didn’t mind. The humans probably didn’t see Nebosi often. Or maybe it was the way she dressed? They were all in well fitting military uniforms, armor, or else something like it. Military precision, she supposed. Everyone joined up, here. Even off duty she supposed it rubbed off. Nobody was wearing anything interesting, they were probably jealous of her frog hood. She pulled it down over her face, completely covering it, and peered out of the googly frog eyes at a trio of children that were staring at her.
“Vhat are you looking at?” She shook her head, and the frog eyes rattled. “Never seen a frog vith two heads?” She pointed two gloved fingers at both her hooded head, and Jeremiah sitting on her shoulder.
One of the younger children, a girl of about five, laughed and put a hand to her mouth. The oldest child, however, grabbed her other hand, as well as the hand of the other boy with them, and pulled them away.
“Yech. This is vhy I don’t go to the city, Jeremiah. Especially not military ones.” Polly said, putting every ounce of disgust she could muster into the word ‘military’. “Even the children have sticks shoved up their butts. And these streets? Who designed them!? Vhy, they're terrible! So straight you’ll never get lost! That’s no fun!”
Jeremiah croaked noncommittally. He wasn’t a frog prone to particularly deep thought.
It was honestly all giving Polly the heebie jeebies. It always did when she went to cities, but Justicar was just so… well planned. So rigid. She could smell it in the air, the scent of lifeless, empty ritual that meant something to someone, once. But now it was just what you did. Like a cold, dry church abandoned for too long. You did it because that’s what the people around you did, what you were told to do, what your ancestors did. Some people really believed in the Justicar Creed or whatever it was called, she was sure. Gave it some real deep thought and decided that that’s what they believed. But for the most part? She doubted most folks here even thought for a millisecond about why they did what they did.
But it didn’t matter. She was here to get as close to the Eclipse Kingdom as she could, to scout the way, collect information for her eventual deep dive into the ruined lands. She’d be gone soon enough.
A short time later, she found herself in front of the gates to an inner keep in Justicar, where she was set to meet the baby Justicarian Knight that she’d be traveling with.
“Halt!” A guard on the wall called down. “You’ve business here?”
“Yes. I’m here to see Eldin! I’m vun of the adventurers that vill be traveling vith him. Pollyanna Ziegler. And Jeremiah. His name is probably not on the list, if you even have a list, I don’t know how you keep track of things, but if he is on this theoretical list, he’s here too.”
“I... see.” She could see the guard now, a woman atop the wall with a mane of frizzy black hair, and a scar on her chin. She was frowning.
“Can I come in?” Polly asked after a moment of waiting.
“Why are you… what’s the…” The guardswoman pointed vaguely at her head.
“Vhat?”
“Your… hood. Is a frog. You look like you’re wearing a very distressed frog on your head. Why?”
Polly had forgotten she’d left the hood on.
“Vhy not?” She shrugged. “I like frogs.”
The guardswoman looked like she wanted to press further, but then shook her head, muttering something about ‘crazy adventurers’.
The gates began to open, and Polly stepped up to them, and took out one of her notebooks labeled ‘manners’. She’d written the things you were supposed to do when meeting other people down, just so she wouldn’t forget. She scanned the first few pages of the book quickly.
“First, Eye contact.” She pulled her hood away from her face. Eyes on her head, eyes on her face. Four sets of eyes to initiate contact with. “Check. Second, introduce yourself. Pollyanna Ziegler. That vun is easy. Third, a firm hand shake.” She flexed her hands. “Ok. Fourth, an inquiry about their day. Simple.”
The pages after that were her attempts to extrapolate the different directions conversations could flow, and how to prepare for the largest number of them without coming off as ‘eccentric’, but so far she’d found no conclusive plan of action that worked in every situation, or even in some situations. But that was ok. She would just wing it, after that. She liked winging it. It would be more data points for her developing theory of initial interaction.
She stepped through the gates to find two knights waiting for her. Or, more likely, a squire and a knight. She locked eyes with the older looking man, as she’d had it down in her notes that older people were deserving of more deference, and made a beeline towards him, hand outstretched, never breaking eye contact for a second, and trying hard not to blink, though she failed once.
“Hello! I am Pollyanna Ziegler, Polly for short! This is Jeremiah!” She said in one breathe. She stopped in front of the man and waited for him to take her hand. The interaction could not proceed until he did.
But then a realization struck her. The younger man was probably Elin. He was her objective, today. Should she shake his hand instead? She pulled her hand back, suddenly unsure, until she realized, no, wait. She had two hands! Nature provided the solutions she so desperately needed. So she stuck them both out, a gloved hand for each of them.
“Bleh.” She said, grimacing, “Arox Beetle. Tastes like feces.” A bit of an exaggeration. It wasn’t that bad, a bit too earthy for Polly’s taste, but it didn’t taste exactly like feces, which was actually a little surprising, as that’s what this variety of beetle ate. She reached back into the bottle at her waist, the already writhing container seemed to writhe more, as if the insects were intelligent enough to know what was in store for them should Polly’s heavy, leather gloved fingers find them.
“This vun is for you, Jeremiah. Your turn.” She said in a sing song voice, pulling an insect out at random. She lifted it up, towards her shoulder where an enormous dull green Bullfrog, nearly the size of her head was perched. “Ah! You lucky tadpole! A Fire Centipede! Let me have this vun! You know I love centipedes!” But Jeremiah’s tongue lashed out, and the wriggling, many legged insect vanished inside his too large mouth. “Greedy piglet. I vont give it to you next time, if I get a silk vurm on my turn.” Polly brushed a spider that was making a bid for freedom back into the bottle and put a stopper on it. “But that’s enough for now. Ve have to save some for the trip.”
Jeremiah let out a low, mournful ‘croak’.
“I don’t care if you’re still hungry. You’re fat enough as it is. Perhaps if you eat less you’ll be less an enormous lump of useless.”
Jeremiah croaked again.
“Vatch your mouth or I’ll feed you to a dog. I don’t need you, you know. In fact, I vould probably be better off. My shoulder gets tired hauling your carcass everywhere.”
People on the street eyed Polly as she walked along, but she didn’t mind. The humans probably didn’t see Nebosi often. Or maybe it was the way she dressed? They were all in well fitting military uniforms, armor, or else something like it. Military precision, she supposed. Everyone joined up, here. Even off duty she supposed it rubbed off. Nobody was wearing anything interesting, they were probably jealous of her frog hood. She pulled it down over her face, completely covering it, and peered out of the googly frog eyes at a trio of children that were staring at her.
“Vhat are you looking at?” She shook her head, and the frog eyes rattled. “Never seen a frog vith two heads?” She pointed two gloved fingers at both her hooded head, and Jeremiah sitting on her shoulder.
One of the younger children, a girl of about five, laughed and put a hand to her mouth. The oldest child, however, grabbed her other hand, as well as the hand of the other boy with them, and pulled them away.
“Yech. This is vhy I don’t go to the city, Jeremiah. Especially not military ones.” Polly said, putting every ounce of disgust she could muster into the word ‘military’. “Even the children have sticks shoved up their butts. And these streets? Who designed them!? Vhy, they're terrible! So straight you’ll never get lost! That’s no fun!”
Jeremiah croaked noncommittally. He wasn’t a frog prone to particularly deep thought.
It was honestly all giving Polly the heebie jeebies. It always did when she went to cities, but Justicar was just so… well planned. So rigid. She could smell it in the air, the scent of lifeless, empty ritual that meant something to someone, once. But now it was just what you did. Like a cold, dry church abandoned for too long. You did it because that’s what the people around you did, what you were told to do, what your ancestors did. Some people really believed in the Justicar Creed or whatever it was called, she was sure. Gave it some real deep thought and decided that that’s what they believed. But for the most part? She doubted most folks here even thought for a millisecond about why they did what they did.
But it didn’t matter. She was here to get as close to the Eclipse Kingdom as she could, to scout the way, collect information for her eventual deep dive into the ruined lands. She’d be gone soon enough.
A short time later, she found herself in front of the gates to an inner keep in Justicar, where she was set to meet the baby Justicarian Knight that she’d be traveling with.
“Halt!” A guard on the wall called down. “You’ve business here?”
“Yes. I’m here to see Eldin! I’m vun of the adventurers that vill be traveling vith him. Pollyanna Ziegler. And Jeremiah. His name is probably not on the list, if you even have a list, I don’t know how you keep track of things, but if he is on this theoretical list, he’s here too.”
“I... see.” She could see the guard now, a woman atop the wall with a mane of frizzy black hair, and a scar on her chin. She was frowning.
“Can I come in?” Polly asked after a moment of waiting.
“Why are you… what’s the…” The guardswoman pointed vaguely at her head.
“Vhat?”
“Your… hood. Is a frog. You look like you’re wearing a very distressed frog on your head. Why?”
Polly had forgotten she’d left the hood on.
“Vhy not?” She shrugged. “I like frogs.”
The guardswoman looked like she wanted to press further, but then shook her head, muttering something about ‘crazy adventurers’.
The gates began to open, and Polly stepped up to them, and took out one of her notebooks labeled ‘manners’. She’d written the things you were supposed to do when meeting other people down, just so she wouldn’t forget. She scanned the first few pages of the book quickly.
“First, Eye contact.” She pulled her hood away from her face. Eyes on her head, eyes on her face. Four sets of eyes to initiate contact with. “Check. Second, introduce yourself. Pollyanna Ziegler. That vun is easy. Third, a firm hand shake.” She flexed her hands. “Ok. Fourth, an inquiry about their day. Simple.”
The pages after that were her attempts to extrapolate the different directions conversations could flow, and how to prepare for the largest number of them without coming off as ‘eccentric’, but so far she’d found no conclusive plan of action that worked in every situation, or even in some situations. But that was ok. She would just wing it, after that. She liked winging it. It would be more data points for her developing theory of initial interaction.
She stepped through the gates to find two knights waiting for her. Or, more likely, a squire and a knight. She locked eyes with the older looking man, as she’d had it down in her notes that older people were deserving of more deference, and made a beeline towards him, hand outstretched, never breaking eye contact for a second, and trying hard not to blink, though she failed once.
“Hello! I am Pollyanna Ziegler, Polly for short! This is Jeremiah!” She said in one breathe. She stopped in front of the man and waited for him to take her hand. The interaction could not proceed until he did.
But then a realization struck her. The younger man was probably Elin. He was her objective, today. Should she shake his hand instead? She pulled her hand back, suddenly unsure, until she realized, no, wait. She had two hands! Nature provided the solutions she so desperately needed. So she stuck them both out, a gloved hand for each of them.
Pai Chan
Elder Member
Ayesha could scarcely hide her amazement once she stepped into the city of Ironheard. The city was large and alive with life. It reminded her of home but with a much heavier military presence.The girl adjusted the strap, around her waist, that was attached to the scabbard that held her sword. And on her back, fastened by two straps, was her buckler shield. Her outfit was a combination for freedom of movement while still being for combat. Ayesha didn’t care much for armor due to its weight. And she was a girl that liked to have agility in the midst of combat. A sleeveless leather top and skirt with dark colored tights and adventurer boots.
She got some looks which was something Ayesha was getting more and more used to with each passing town. It was no wonder where her origins lay with her dark caramel skin that was adorned with tattoos. Maybe people weren’t used to seeing Nebosi. As the fledgling adventurer looked about it seemed the city consisted, mostly, of humans. Or at least the people she could make out and weren’t hidden under helmets.
Ayesha didn’t see the iron plated suit until she walked into it. It was home to a Justicar guard that turned and eyed the girl suspiciously as his hand went towards a pouch hanging around his waist.
“Watch your pathing, Miss.” All Ayesha could do was watch and take in the man’s armor, as she imagined herself in something similar. Hopefully, in the future she, too, would be able to go by the title of Justicar. What better calling was there to fight for those who couldn’t and strike down evil in the name of justice!
“Ma’am,” The guard said, breaking Ayesha out of her trance. “Are ye lost?”
“No, no.” Ayesha answered in a light but energetic voice. “I’m, merely, headed for the Knightdom’s barracks.” The girl looked about for a moment in a brief pause. “Where is it?”
“Ah, you must be one o’ the adventurers hired for the escort. I was informed to keep an eye out fer you, lot. Just in case you got yourselves lost. Follow, me.” With that the guard turned and guided Ayesha through the crowded streets of Ironheart towards the center of the city.
----------------------------
Upon their arrival the guard was all too happy to drop her off at the gate. He looked up at a guard that was on the top of the wall where the gate stood that led to the barracks.
“What’s this, then?” The female guard called out.
“One of Eldin’s. Please let her in. Me ear’s ringin’ from the abuse of her endless questions.” Ayesha looked shocked while the guard utop of the wall looked on, amused. The guardswoman then gave a signal to open the gate and Ayesha almost missed the guard that escorted her, darting off.
All too eager to get back to his post and continue to serve his kingdom. Ayesha thought as she walked through the gate. Once, inside she could see three people. An older and battle worn fellow and a younger one.
Ayesha tried her version of a Justicar salute while introducing herself.
“Good day. My name is Ayesha. It’s more than an honor to be alongside Sir Eldin for his quest. And I promise to not let you down.” Ayesha’s eyes drifted towards the person in a frog suit. “I had no idea we would be getting a sort of mascot. Is it to boost morale? Is that something the Justicars do?” Already, questions started pouring out of the young girl’s mouth much like a fountain, hoping to get more questions answered before even more people showed up to take away attention.
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A.I.S.H.A.
Artificial Integrated Social Human Algorithm
"Listen," Raisha sighed, "I've had a long day." Her body was caked in a mix of blood, mud, feathers and sweat and her hair matted against her face. It wasn't exactly the most presentable way to ask for entry into a fort city like Ironheart but she was late enough as it was and she was starving. It wasn't her fault a flock of vultures found its way into her rations that morning! Still, the guard watching her at the gates remained off-put by the display.
"I'll find my way to a- hic- bathhouse the second I'm allowed in," Raisha pleaded. She was also drunk. But that's what happens when your day starts with the last of your supplies getting eaten. Raisha did the only sensible thing. She got drunk.
"And if we don't have a bathhouse?" the guard asked.
Raisha squinted at him.
"Pass. Just don't cause any trouble," the guard relented and stepped aside.
Raisha rolled her eyes and began dragging her feet inside, her sword scrapping behind her. She didn't care enough to find her way to a bathhouse, regardless of whether or not they had one. In all honesty, however, Raisha had an admiration for Justicar architecture. The splendor and care infused into every brick on every wall and road spoke volumes about their mission. They were the golden standard. The greatest warriors the world has ever seen, at least in her eyes. Raisha looked down at her battle-worn armor, the pants that clung to her, drench in crimson and moved her hair out of her face. One foot in front of the other. Just a reminder. When she looked forward again, she found a kid staring at her. The boy flinched and ducked behind an alley. Raisha chuckled. She didn't think she looked like much of a hero either.
By the time Raisha reached the barracks, she had sobered up but the whiskey still lingered in her breath. She thought back to the reason she needed the escort. Well, she doesn't need it, but the money involved was nice. That was worth something; weapons, food, and drink and she needed all three. Well, that and curiosity for working with a group. Just curiosity, for now. She preferred working alone. The lives of others didn't depend on her then, just her own. That helped her focus.
"Halt! Who stands before the barracks?" a female guard announced.
"Eldin's escort," Raisha kept walking, "Don't take yourself that seriously..."
The guard scowled but remained quiet as Raisha saw herself inside. When she arrived, she found herself unsurprised by what she saw. A frog woman was holding two hands out to a pair of armored men like a blind monkey and another woman was pecking at the three of them with incessant questions. Raisha took a deep breath and closed her eyes, biting back tears of despair. She was out of whiskey.
"I'll find my way to a- hic- bathhouse the second I'm allowed in," Raisha pleaded. She was also drunk. But that's what happens when your day starts with the last of your supplies getting eaten. Raisha did the only sensible thing. She got drunk.
"And if we don't have a bathhouse?" the guard asked.
Raisha squinted at him.
"Pass. Just don't cause any trouble," the guard relented and stepped aside.
Raisha rolled her eyes and began dragging her feet inside, her sword scrapping behind her. She didn't care enough to find her way to a bathhouse, regardless of whether or not they had one. In all honesty, however, Raisha had an admiration for Justicar architecture. The splendor and care infused into every brick on every wall and road spoke volumes about their mission. They were the golden standard. The greatest warriors the world has ever seen, at least in her eyes. Raisha looked down at her battle-worn armor, the pants that clung to her, drench in crimson and moved her hair out of her face. One foot in front of the other. Just a reminder. When she looked forward again, she found a kid staring at her. The boy flinched and ducked behind an alley. Raisha chuckled. She didn't think she looked like much of a hero either.
By the time Raisha reached the barracks, she had sobered up but the whiskey still lingered in her breath. She thought back to the reason she needed the escort. Well, she doesn't need it, but the money involved was nice. That was worth something; weapons, food, and drink and she needed all three. Well, that and curiosity for working with a group. Just curiosity, for now. She preferred working alone. The lives of others didn't depend on her then, just her own. That helped her focus.
"Halt! Who stands before the barracks?" a female guard announced.
"Eldin's escort," Raisha kept walking, "Don't take yourself that seriously..."
The guard scowled but remained quiet as Raisha saw herself inside. When she arrived, she found herself unsurprised by what she saw. A frog woman was holding two hands out to a pair of armored men like a blind monkey and another woman was pecking at the three of them with incessant questions. Raisha took a deep breath and closed her eyes, biting back tears of despair. She was out of whiskey.
Saturn_moon
梦想
The woman ran as fast as her legs would take her. Skirts fisted in her hands, feet flying across the dry, rocky terrain beneath. Barren land stretched on for miles in every direction, the empty expanse only occasionally interrupted by the random lone skeleton of a tree that had somehow managed to not be consumed by the desolation and wither into nothing.
The muscles in the woman’s legs started to burn and ache, but she pushed harder, faster, steps pounding in time with her heartbeat. Her lungs strained to take in enough oxygen, as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. The wind whipped her long auburn hair from her face and chilled the sweat against her skin. Inky darkness enveloped them, heightened by the moonless night, with no promise of dawn in sight. Ironic, considering how the people of these parts had once worshipped the great moon god, Lunus. Oh, how little that did for them. For instead of divinity, all they had become was bone and ash. Instead of grace, all they had received was death.
Death. That was what awaited her should she choose to succumb to her exhaustion. So, despite her faltering strength, the woman willed herself to not stop. To not give up as there would be no returning from that choice. Yet, one wrong step was all it took, and her feet suddenly fell out from beneath her, throwing her entire body forward, sending limbs tumbling over one another before hitting the ground with a hard thump. For a brief moment, her vision was a sea of white and the taste of blood filled her mouth. She pushed herself up onto her knees, the wasteland around her continuing to spin, and tried to reorientate herself.
Now that her world was no longer passing by in a blur, the woman could make out the faint bit of starlight in the skies above… and the shadows that lurked in the periphery of her amber eyes. The sounds of her breath coming in short, frantic, gasps were accompanied by the unsettling clicking and skittering of monsters unknown.
“Leave!” She shouted in the most intimidating tone she could muster, but her throat was parched and all she achieved was a hoarse garble. She extended her arms and began to mutter an incantation but that too was futile as her magic pool had long since been depleted and the spell didn’t take. Her hands flopped back down to her sides. She was out of options… and out of hope. For the second time this week, she had to admit that life had dealt her a bad hand and she could do nothing but fold.
The woman felt a hot prickle behind her eyes as the realization settled in, but stopped the tears before they could escape. Gods be damned, if she was going to die, she wasn’t going to do it crying. Staggering to her feet, she drew the small dagger strapped to her thigh and spat the blood from her mouth.
The last thing she heard was screams, her screams, as the monster charged from the darkness with its sharp claws outstretched.
The last thing she saw was a figure, masked and mysterious, looming over her, and for all her skepticism, she found herself wondering if this was perhaps Deim himself coming to take her.
’Dear me, dear me. I haven’t even come close to even thinking these words, but I may be in over my head...only in the slightest way, of course.’
Jeanne stopped to observe himself the best he could in a glass window. He’d done this multiple times just to check to see if he was “still human”, though it wouldn’t be hard for him to tell whenever his spells had worn off. His hair was on the longer side, though not past his shoulders, and parted in the middle. His eyes were green and- oh god, this was nothing even close to what he looked like when he still had skin!
Then again, it’s been a while since the last time he’d looked in a mirror and seen his face.
He hardly had time to worry about what he looked like though. Every second he spent looking at himself was a second closer to spending another two runes. He needed to stay focused, there was only one thing he was more interested in seeing than checking to see if he wasn’t obviously a Deimforged in the middle of a city in the Justicar Knightdom. The thought of dying again sent a chill down his spine, though with how exposed it was, it could’ve just been a draft.
He pulled himself away from the window and took a moment to evaluate his situation once more. The sanatorium was a building he was quite unfamiliar with. It primarily helped rehabilitate Justicar knights and squires who had been critically injured while on duty, although they also treated a handful of civilian residents with chronic illness or were convalescing. He’d never been inside one, but he’d also never needed a facility to help with long-term recovery. The main building where they housed most of the patients was a wide, two-story mansion-like structure with a roof that came to a large peak, surrounded by an immaculately trimmed lawn, small trees, and flowering gardens. A place for everything and everything in its place… much like the rest of this city. Jeanne had already completely searched the first level and prayed to Deim that he had not missed who he was looking for. He was sure he’d gotten a good look at her features, never mind the limited amount of time he’d seen her. He just needed to find someone who looked like her — minus all of the blood, bruises, and dirt.
“...I’d have an easier time trying to kill the Hierophant.”
There was little time to waste. He stood on the staircase between the first and second floor, gripping the handrail, anxiety coursing through every fiber in his body. He wasn’t sure that she was even here, and even less sure that if he died here that he’d come back for the third time. One might think that it takes a fearless soul to partake in the antics that Jeanne normally initiated, but on the contrary, Jeanne found himself fearing for his life quite often.
Still, there were few times where his fear nearly caused him to back down. He didn’t back down, even when he was staring death straight in its face while it took the form of a dragon’s breath. He was already inside a Justicar controlled city, and he wasn’t going to call it quits early — not when he was this close. Jeanne took only a few more moments to get himself together - to control his breathing and purge his mind of negative thoughts - before he continued onto the second floor.
“It’d be a shame if I came all this way just to find out you died.”
As Jeanne had expected, the second floor was of a similar layout to the first. This would make his sweep a bit easier. So long as he could avoid talking to anyone, his complications should be limited. There were a few things he didn’t account for when he decided to pose as a doctor:
Jeanne’s current method of sweeping was already risky enough when it came to interacting with people, but it’s not like there were any other more efficient ways of doing things. All he’d been doing was opening doors, peeking in to see who the occupant was, and then leaving. In one particular case, he had a run-in with a knight who seemed to be able to see through all of the layers of his disguise and immediately began shouting that there was a Deimforged in the facility. Fortunately for Jeanne, it seemed that manic episodes and hallucinations were a combination that the knight experienced frequently, and everyone just assumed he was crazy. In a way, he pitied him. Despite being a Justicar Knight, he’d lost any bit of his credibility.
Or maybe Jeanne’s disguise was just that good. Still, if every Knight that had the ability to see through his facade started to call Jeanne out, no doubt someone would, at some point, start to connect the dots and things would get quite dangerous for him. The chance of that happening made it riskier to try every single door. Jeanne could only hope for something that’ll make his job easier to just fall into his hands.
Fortunately, things seemed to be just that easy. A pair of nurses spoke in hushed tones in front of a door, fresh bandages on a cart along with other things that Jeanne assumed were medicinal. Nurses gossiping about some of the things they saw inside the facility was nothing new to Jeanne. Sometimes he wanted to join in on the conversations — he’d seen what someone could look like if they got caught up inside of a slime for a little too long.
Jeanne never had the best ears, so he couldn’t hear the entire conversation word for word before they decided to see to their duties, though he didn’t imagine there were too many things that rhyme with “Eclipse Ruins.” In other words, he was certain he didn’t mistake their words for something else. He considered the fact that an entire Justicar patrol was in the ruins around the time Jeanne had come across that stranger; it was very possible that it was just a knight from that patrol that had gotten injured. Though he had to admit, when he tailed the patrol back to Ironheart, he didn’t see any more than scrapes and bruises among the men present.
Whatever the case, whoever was in that room was a good start. He bided his time, waiting for the nurses to leave, trying his best to look inconspicuous, though hiding in plain sight was a lot harder than hiding in shadows. He tried a few different poses, first leaning on a wall and propping his foot up, then staring out of a window with his arms crossed. He considered that in trying not to look obvious, he might be making himself even more obvious. He was a “doctor,” who worked there like everyone else. Instead of shifting around like he needed to use the bathroom, he decided to at least try and act like he knew what he was doing.
He approached the door, and as he went to reach for the knob, he paused and swallowed thickly. His ears began to ring as he withdrew his hand, placing it instead on his chest as if to check for a heartbeat despite a heart no longer being present. Even without a heart, that didn’t stop a certain percussive thumping from filling his ears and mind, pressing against the walls of his skull like it was trying to break out. What was that noise!?
He backed away from the door and placed his hands on his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to will the sound away. The harder he tried, the louder and more frequent the thumping would sound off, as if angry with Jeanne’s defiance. Suddenly he found it a lot harder to breathe, as if a great weight was placed on his chest — funny, considering he often thought about the advantages of having no organs. For a moment, he considered that this might be some kind of Justicar trap developed for catching Deimforged, but the little rational thought he could muster knew that it was a reach.
His back hit a wall. Had he been pacing away from the door this whole time? The sudden stop in motion startled him; he jumped, then froze. What if it wasn’t a wall? What if it was that knight from earlier, and he’d managed to find him to take care of Jeanne himself? He turned around quickly, one hand immediately flying to the hilt of a concealed blade only to find that the wall was in fact just that; a wall.
Was he going crazy? Now was the worst time to act like a scared animal. Very, very few times in his first life did he experience this kind of lunacy. Was being in the Knightdom putting more stress on Jeanne’s mind than he originally thought? It couldn’t be, he’d been in worse situations. It felt like it was just yesterday he robbed Ironcrown’s treasury of its money.
He wanted to collapse for a moment. Ever since he awoke as a Deimforged, he felt like something changed within him. His usual antics weren’t as fun as they used to be, and if anything they were more frightening now. Maybe being dead for so long took him out of the swing of things. He’d just have to do things as he did well over a hundred years ago to get things going. Years of experience were practically carved into his very being. A mere century couldn’t erase all that.
Could it?
“Get it together, Je-”
“Are-are you alright?”
A feminine voice came from behind him, where the door was. He did well not to immediately straighten up, instead gradually improving his posture and letting his hands fall back to his sides as to give the illusion that he wasn’t nearly put into cardiac arrest by the sudden question. He turned and cleared his throat. “Quite, thank you.” He smiled at how smooth his response came out despite being shaken moments prior, though the nurse could only take it as a friendly expression. The nurse opened her mouth for a response but was cut off by Jeanne, who was a bit quicker on the draw. “Would you mind telling me who occupies that room,” he paused and pointed with his eyes, “just over there?”
“Oh, that room? I say, the woman occupying that space was none other than the one found in the ruins about...a week ago? Seen better days, that one. Her wounds haven’t entirely scarred over yet, but they’re getting there. I wager she’ll live, but she'll have a hard time finding a husband. I don’t think anyone would want something so damag-”
“Thank you very much.” Jeanne interrupted, not interested in the nurse’s opinion on anything further than if the woman inside was alive. He passed her by and reached for the doorknob yet again, doing his best to mask his apprehension. He’d have to worry about whatever that episode was when he left the city. Once inside, he gingerly closed the door behind him after verifying no one else was in the room.
Tiptoeing over to the bed, he wasn’t entirely sure he was even in the right room after seeing just how many bandages were wrapped around the body before him. With no visual granted on account of the bandages, the only thing he had to go off of was the word of the nurse. To the nurse’s credit, most of what she had said lined up with what Jeanne was looking for. He approached the side of her bed slowly.
‘Well, she’s certainly alive...Now what…? Do I just leave?’
‘No. That seems like a waste. I came all this way for this.’
He wasn’t sure how to address her. He didn’t know her name, much less what to say to her. How would he sound if he said: “Hello! Not sure if you remember me, but I saw you nearly die in those ruins a while back. Just checking in to make sure you lived...but uh, now that I’m here...you come here often?” He’d probably be dismissed as a hallucination or something crazy like that. Maybe he should try something a doctor would say. Truthfully, he didn’t know what a doctor would say given that he wasn’t a doctor, but he’d give his best effort regardless. He cleared his throat.
“Are you awake?”
The woman’s eyes fluttered slowly open as if having been pulled back from the embrace of sleep, and met his eyes. She blinked once...twice... then without a word, drew the dagger she had hidden under her pillow, and held it pointed straight at him. Despite the state she was in, she forced herself to sit up, the agony evident in what he could see of her face. Bandages wrapped around her neck, under her gown, and the entirety of her arms. Even in the dim lighting of the room, he noticed her body sway slightly, but her grip on the dagger never faltered.
Jeanne was afraid of a few things, dragons at the top of the list, and Justicars somewhere further down the line as a new addition to the list. Something that was recently taken off the list were blades, long and short. His new body made him effectively stab-proof, and after some conditioning, he no longer even came close to flinching if a situation came to drawing blades.
He already would’ve offered little reaction at the dagger, but the fact that the one holding it was very short of being mummified made it almost laughable — in fact, Jeanne would’ve laughed out loud if he wasn’t so worried. He raised his hands. “If you move around like that, you’re going to reopen your wounds! You can swing that knife around all you want if you like, but I’m warning you: the only one who’s going to get hurt is you.”
He took a step away from the bed, slowly. As far as he was aware, he still looked like a doctor, so it was a mystery to Jeanne why she’d reacted so strongly. He quickly thought up a short list of scenarios that would justify being held at knifepoint. The most likely one is that Jeanne forgot to keep track of how much longer his illusions would hold, and she was certainly staring at a skeleton with a wrapped-up face.
Although, that didn’t hold up too well. Many people, especially residents of the Justicar Knightdom, would scream for help the moment they saw something that was clearly undead. That led him to his second reason: maybe he still looked like a doctor, but unknown to Jeanne, she had the ability to detect mana and she could tell something was up. This was most likely as Jeanne had consumed a conceal rune a bit before he used an illusion rune. Perhaps his concealment ran out, and that would mean his illusion would fall soon thereafter.
A third, and also likely reason is that she just hit her head pretty hard, or rather, something hit her head pretty hard in the ruins, and she might be a little crazy in a similar way that the knight who called him out was. He squinted and noticed the irrational panic in her eyes. Definitely a little crazy. Regardless of which of the three it was, Jeanne’s focus was on de-escalating the situation for the time being. He drew his own knife tentatively and backed up to the wall and put it on the floor before kicking it across the floor to her bed. “I’m not here to hurt you, kid. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
After a tense moment, the woman lowered her arm, although she never let go of the dagger’s hilt. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously then made a small gesture at her throat. She couldn't speak. Jeanne scratched the side of his head. Now it made more sense why she hadn’t shouted like anyone else would. “No voice, eh? I reckon it’s nothing a bit of paper and ink can’t fix.”
By all accounts, Iseult should be dead. She had been prepared to die, perhaps to a small extent even anticipated it. Logic and reasoning had convinced her that it was the only possible outcome and yet, here she was, very much alive, standing before the tall iron gates that led to the Knights’ Barracks. Her memories from her early days in Ironheart were largely a blur, having spent a good part of it unconscious, amplified by the sedatives given to her at the sanatorium to ease her pain. Her brain had felt like one large gelatinous mush, unable to discern where one thought ended and another began. Her first clear thought after the Ruins was meeting Jeanne, the strange deimforged who had grown to be somewhat of an acquaintance in the past few weeks.
She rummaged in the satchel and fished out the letter he had handed to her only yesterday and considered it intently.
To the esteemed Knights of Justicar,
Through themouth writings of my acquaintance from whom you have received this letter, I heard read of the quest you are about to embark on to the Ruins and it is with great excitement that I express my interest to join this adventure. I see many of our goals aligned; A desire to uncover new discoveries, gain ancient knowledge, and most importantly, the interest to stay alive.
Unfortunately, my present work takes me away from the city for the time being, but if my estimation is accurate - and it usually is - I will convene with the party as you crest the hill just beyond the city’s walls.
I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
Jeanne B. Jacque
Iseult had half a mind to tear it in half and toss it into the canal but always stopped short of doing so out of respect to that ancient pile of bones. Honestly, what kind of half-wit would willingly join a party led by the same people who had sworn an oath to wipe your entire race? Sometimes, despite all the knowledge he held from years of existence, she couldn’t decide if Jeanne was crazy or stupid. With a frustrated sigh, she reached up and rubbed her face causing the hood of her traveling cloak to fall back. A breeze immediately hit her face and Iseult lost herself momentarily as she savored the sensation of cool air against her balmy skin. It was always so warm under that cloak.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a small child a little ways away gawking at her before quickly getting ushered away by his mother. Iseult snapped back to reality and quickly pulled her hood back up, hiding her face once more from public scrutiny. If anyone had been watching closely, for the briefest second they might have caught a glimpse of the person she once was rather than just the scarred empty shell she had become.
Poor thing…
Nothing else we could do…
Wounds that deep are sure to leave scars…
Ruined forever…
The words rang in her head with the persistence of a mosquito. The hushed whispers - and it was always the whispers that were the loudest - of the nurses as they shut the door behind them. Unlike most other whispers though, these were all true.
In the distance, she heard the clock tower strike noon alerting her that the time to wallow in her thoughts was over. She stepped past the gates and into the courtyard beyond where a small group of people had already gathered. Looking to Sir Wallace, she gave him a small nod in greeting and handed over Jeanne's letter. She had met the Knight when he came to visit her not too long ago at the sanatorium. Apparently, he had been part of the party that rescued her from the Ruins, not that she remembered. He’d also come to ask for a favor which was perhaps the only reason she was standing in this courtyard now. If given the choice, Iseult never wanted to step into the wretched place that was the Ruins ever again, but she hated the idea of being indebted to anyone, let alone owe them a life debt.
She turned to the squire next to Sir Wallace, Eldin she assumed, and greeted him similarly. Only then did she turn to the rest of the people present. The first thing to catch her attention wasn’t a person at all, but a large bullfrog sitting on the shoulder of… a larger frog? Closer inspection revealed that it was in fact, simply a frog hood, although the way it had been designed made it look like the owner of said hood, a Nebosi woman in her thirties, was getting swallowed by the amphibian. Next to her was another Nebosi, not even past her teens, evident from the softness of her face and too optimistic disposition. Iseult had been here but five minutes and already the girl’s endless questions were exhausting her. Lastly, there was a beautiful young human woman, dressed in fighting leathers and carrying a decent-looking longsword at her side. Iseult would have thought her a competent fighter if not for the fact that she looked like she’d just crawled out of a bar fight and smelled like it too.
Iseult was suddenly immensely grateful for the cloak she had. Otherwise, she might not have been able to hide the look of absolute bewilderment and fear that crossed her face. The knights had requested for an escort party but this was starting to feel more like a flock of lambs being sent to slaughter.
SentinelSevn
sheesh
A.I.S.H.A.
Pai Chan
Fred Colon
EMIYAman
The muscles in the woman’s legs started to burn and ache, but she pushed harder, faster, steps pounding in time with her heartbeat. Her lungs strained to take in enough oxygen, as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. The wind whipped her long auburn hair from her face and chilled the sweat against her skin. Inky darkness enveloped them, heightened by the moonless night, with no promise of dawn in sight. Ironic, considering how the people of these parts had once worshipped the great moon god, Lunus. Oh, how little that did for them. For instead of divinity, all they had become was bone and ash. Instead of grace, all they had received was death.
Death. That was what awaited her should she choose to succumb to her exhaustion. So, despite her faltering strength, the woman willed herself to not stop. To not give up as there would be no returning from that choice. Yet, one wrong step was all it took, and her feet suddenly fell out from beneath her, throwing her entire body forward, sending limbs tumbling over one another before hitting the ground with a hard thump. For a brief moment, her vision was a sea of white and the taste of blood filled her mouth. She pushed herself up onto her knees, the wasteland around her continuing to spin, and tried to reorientate herself.
Now that her world was no longer passing by in a blur, the woman could make out the faint bit of starlight in the skies above… and the shadows that lurked in the periphery of her amber eyes. The sounds of her breath coming in short, frantic, gasps were accompanied by the unsettling clicking and skittering of monsters unknown.
“Leave!” She shouted in the most intimidating tone she could muster, but her throat was parched and all she achieved was a hoarse garble. She extended her arms and began to mutter an incantation but that too was futile as her magic pool had long since been depleted and the spell didn’t take. Her hands flopped back down to her sides. She was out of options… and out of hope. For the second time this week, she had to admit that life had dealt her a bad hand and she could do nothing but fold.
The woman felt a hot prickle behind her eyes as the realization settled in, but stopped the tears before they could escape. Gods be damned, if she was going to die, she wasn’t going to do it crying. Staggering to her feet, she drew the small dagger strapped to her thigh and spat the blood from her mouth.
The last thing she heard was screams, her screams, as the monster charged from the darkness with its sharp claws outstretched.
The last thing she saw was a figure, masked and mysterious, looming over her, and for all her skepticism, she found herself wondering if this was perhaps Deim himself coming to take her.
☾
’Dear me, dear me. I haven’t even come close to even thinking these words, but I may be in over my head...only in the slightest way, of course.’
Jeanne stopped to observe himself the best he could in a glass window. He’d done this multiple times just to check to see if he was “still human”, though it wouldn’t be hard for him to tell whenever his spells had worn off. His hair was on the longer side, though not past his shoulders, and parted in the middle. His eyes were green and- oh god, this was nothing even close to what he looked like when he still had skin!
Then again, it’s been a while since the last time he’d looked in a mirror and seen his face.
He hardly had time to worry about what he looked like though. Every second he spent looking at himself was a second closer to spending another two runes. He needed to stay focused, there was only one thing he was more interested in seeing than checking to see if he wasn’t obviously a Deimforged in the middle of a city in the Justicar Knightdom. The thought of dying again sent a chill down his spine, though with how exposed it was, it could’ve just been a draft.
He pulled himself away from the window and took a moment to evaluate his situation once more. The sanatorium was a building he was quite unfamiliar with. It primarily helped rehabilitate Justicar knights and squires who had been critically injured while on duty, although they also treated a handful of civilian residents with chronic illness or were convalescing. He’d never been inside one, but he’d also never needed a facility to help with long-term recovery. The main building where they housed most of the patients was a wide, two-story mansion-like structure with a roof that came to a large peak, surrounded by an immaculately trimmed lawn, small trees, and flowering gardens. A place for everything and everything in its place… much like the rest of this city. Jeanne had already completely searched the first level and prayed to Deim that he had not missed who he was looking for. He was sure he’d gotten a good look at her features, never mind the limited amount of time he’d seen her. He just needed to find someone who looked like her — minus all of the blood, bruises, and dirt.
“...I’d have an easier time trying to kill the Hierophant.”
There was little time to waste. He stood on the staircase between the first and second floor, gripping the handrail, anxiety coursing through every fiber in his body. He wasn’t sure that she was even here, and even less sure that if he died here that he’d come back for the third time. One might think that it takes a fearless soul to partake in the antics that Jeanne normally initiated, but on the contrary, Jeanne found himself fearing for his life quite often.
Still, there were few times where his fear nearly caused him to back down. He didn’t back down, even when he was staring death straight in its face while it took the form of a dragon’s breath. He was already inside a Justicar controlled city, and he wasn’t going to call it quits early — not when he was this close. Jeanne took only a few more moments to get himself together - to control his breathing and purge his mind of negative thoughts - before he continued onto the second floor.
“It’d be a shame if I came all this way just to find out you died.”
As Jeanne had expected, the second floor was of a similar layout to the first. This would make his sweep a bit easier. So long as he could avoid talking to anyone, his complications should be limited. There were a few things he didn’t account for when he decided to pose as a doctor:
- The services of a doctor are high in demand inside of the sanatorium.
- This makes it incredibly difficult to circumvent interacting with people. - Doctors are a lot less numerous compared to nurses.
- This means most people are already familiar with the doctors that are already at the location, meaning they’ll question Jeanne if he sticks around for too long. - Jeanne had absolutely zero medical knowledge, magical or practical.
- In the event that he couldn’t escape his duties as a “doctor,” his cover would likely be blown soon thereafter.
Jeanne’s current method of sweeping was already risky enough when it came to interacting with people, but it’s not like there were any other more efficient ways of doing things. All he’d been doing was opening doors, peeking in to see who the occupant was, and then leaving. In one particular case, he had a run-in with a knight who seemed to be able to see through all of the layers of his disguise and immediately began shouting that there was a Deimforged in the facility. Fortunately for Jeanne, it seemed that manic episodes and hallucinations were a combination that the knight experienced frequently, and everyone just assumed he was crazy. In a way, he pitied him. Despite being a Justicar Knight, he’d lost any bit of his credibility.
Or maybe Jeanne’s disguise was just that good. Still, if every Knight that had the ability to see through his facade started to call Jeanne out, no doubt someone would, at some point, start to connect the dots and things would get quite dangerous for him. The chance of that happening made it riskier to try every single door. Jeanne could only hope for something that’ll make his job easier to just fall into his hands.
Fortunately, things seemed to be just that easy. A pair of nurses spoke in hushed tones in front of a door, fresh bandages on a cart along with other things that Jeanne assumed were medicinal. Nurses gossiping about some of the things they saw inside the facility was nothing new to Jeanne. Sometimes he wanted to join in on the conversations — he’d seen what someone could look like if they got caught up inside of a slime for a little too long.
Jeanne never had the best ears, so he couldn’t hear the entire conversation word for word before they decided to see to their duties, though he didn’t imagine there were too many things that rhyme with “Eclipse Ruins.” In other words, he was certain he didn’t mistake their words for something else. He considered the fact that an entire Justicar patrol was in the ruins around the time Jeanne had come across that stranger; it was very possible that it was just a knight from that patrol that had gotten injured. Though he had to admit, when he tailed the patrol back to Ironheart, he didn’t see any more than scrapes and bruises among the men present.
Whatever the case, whoever was in that room was a good start. He bided his time, waiting for the nurses to leave, trying his best to look inconspicuous, though hiding in plain sight was a lot harder than hiding in shadows. He tried a few different poses, first leaning on a wall and propping his foot up, then staring out of a window with his arms crossed. He considered that in trying not to look obvious, he might be making himself even more obvious. He was a “doctor,” who worked there like everyone else. Instead of shifting around like he needed to use the bathroom, he decided to at least try and act like he knew what he was doing.
He approached the door, and as he went to reach for the knob, he paused and swallowed thickly. His ears began to ring as he withdrew his hand, placing it instead on his chest as if to check for a heartbeat despite a heart no longer being present. Even without a heart, that didn’t stop a certain percussive thumping from filling his ears and mind, pressing against the walls of his skull like it was trying to break out. What was that noise!?
He backed away from the door and placed his hands on his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to will the sound away. The harder he tried, the louder and more frequent the thumping would sound off, as if angry with Jeanne’s defiance. Suddenly he found it a lot harder to breathe, as if a great weight was placed on his chest — funny, considering he often thought about the advantages of having no organs. For a moment, he considered that this might be some kind of Justicar trap developed for catching Deimforged, but the little rational thought he could muster knew that it was a reach.
His back hit a wall. Had he been pacing away from the door this whole time? The sudden stop in motion startled him; he jumped, then froze. What if it wasn’t a wall? What if it was that knight from earlier, and he’d managed to find him to take care of Jeanne himself? He turned around quickly, one hand immediately flying to the hilt of a concealed blade only to find that the wall was in fact just that; a wall.
Was he going crazy? Now was the worst time to act like a scared animal. Very, very few times in his first life did he experience this kind of lunacy. Was being in the Knightdom putting more stress on Jeanne’s mind than he originally thought? It couldn’t be, he’d been in worse situations. It felt like it was just yesterday he robbed Ironcrown’s treasury of its money.
He wanted to collapse for a moment. Ever since he awoke as a Deimforged, he felt like something changed within him. His usual antics weren’t as fun as they used to be, and if anything they were more frightening now. Maybe being dead for so long took him out of the swing of things. He’d just have to do things as he did well over a hundred years ago to get things going. Years of experience were practically carved into his very being. A mere century couldn’t erase all that.
Could it?
“Get it together, Je-”
“Are-are you alright?”
A feminine voice came from behind him, where the door was. He did well not to immediately straighten up, instead gradually improving his posture and letting his hands fall back to his sides as to give the illusion that he wasn’t nearly put into cardiac arrest by the sudden question. He turned and cleared his throat. “Quite, thank you.” He smiled at how smooth his response came out despite being shaken moments prior, though the nurse could only take it as a friendly expression. The nurse opened her mouth for a response but was cut off by Jeanne, who was a bit quicker on the draw. “Would you mind telling me who occupies that room,” he paused and pointed with his eyes, “just over there?”
“Oh, that room? I say, the woman occupying that space was none other than the one found in the ruins about...a week ago? Seen better days, that one. Her wounds haven’t entirely scarred over yet, but they’re getting there. I wager she’ll live, but she'll have a hard time finding a husband. I don’t think anyone would want something so damag-”
“Thank you very much.” Jeanne interrupted, not interested in the nurse’s opinion on anything further than if the woman inside was alive. He passed her by and reached for the doorknob yet again, doing his best to mask his apprehension. He’d have to worry about whatever that episode was when he left the city. Once inside, he gingerly closed the door behind him after verifying no one else was in the room.
Tiptoeing over to the bed, he wasn’t entirely sure he was even in the right room after seeing just how many bandages were wrapped around the body before him. With no visual granted on account of the bandages, the only thing he had to go off of was the word of the nurse. To the nurse’s credit, most of what she had said lined up with what Jeanne was looking for. He approached the side of her bed slowly.
‘Well, she’s certainly alive...Now what…? Do I just leave?’
‘No. That seems like a waste. I came all this way for this.’
He wasn’t sure how to address her. He didn’t know her name, much less what to say to her. How would he sound if he said: “Hello! Not sure if you remember me, but I saw you nearly die in those ruins a while back. Just checking in to make sure you lived...but uh, now that I’m here...you come here often?” He’d probably be dismissed as a hallucination or something crazy like that. Maybe he should try something a doctor would say. Truthfully, he didn’t know what a doctor would say given that he wasn’t a doctor, but he’d give his best effort regardless. He cleared his throat.
“Are you awake?”
The woman’s eyes fluttered slowly open as if having been pulled back from the embrace of sleep, and met his eyes. She blinked once...twice... then without a word, drew the dagger she had hidden under her pillow, and held it pointed straight at him. Despite the state she was in, she forced herself to sit up, the agony evident in what he could see of her face. Bandages wrapped around her neck, under her gown, and the entirety of her arms. Even in the dim lighting of the room, he noticed her body sway slightly, but her grip on the dagger never faltered.
Jeanne was afraid of a few things, dragons at the top of the list, and Justicars somewhere further down the line as a new addition to the list. Something that was recently taken off the list were blades, long and short. His new body made him effectively stab-proof, and after some conditioning, he no longer even came close to flinching if a situation came to drawing blades.
He already would’ve offered little reaction at the dagger, but the fact that the one holding it was very short of being mummified made it almost laughable — in fact, Jeanne would’ve laughed out loud if he wasn’t so worried. He raised his hands. “If you move around like that, you’re going to reopen your wounds! You can swing that knife around all you want if you like, but I’m warning you: the only one who’s going to get hurt is you.”
He took a step away from the bed, slowly. As far as he was aware, he still looked like a doctor, so it was a mystery to Jeanne why she’d reacted so strongly. He quickly thought up a short list of scenarios that would justify being held at knifepoint. The most likely one is that Jeanne forgot to keep track of how much longer his illusions would hold, and she was certainly staring at a skeleton with a wrapped-up face.
Although, that didn’t hold up too well. Many people, especially residents of the Justicar Knightdom, would scream for help the moment they saw something that was clearly undead. That led him to his second reason: maybe he still looked like a doctor, but unknown to Jeanne, she had the ability to detect mana and she could tell something was up. This was most likely as Jeanne had consumed a conceal rune a bit before he used an illusion rune. Perhaps his concealment ran out, and that would mean his illusion would fall soon thereafter.
A third, and also likely reason is that she just hit her head pretty hard, or rather, something hit her head pretty hard in the ruins, and she might be a little crazy in a similar way that the knight who called him out was. He squinted and noticed the irrational panic in her eyes. Definitely a little crazy. Regardless of which of the three it was, Jeanne’s focus was on de-escalating the situation for the time being. He drew his own knife tentatively and backed up to the wall and put it on the floor before kicking it across the floor to her bed. “I’m not here to hurt you, kid. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
After a tense moment, the woman lowered her arm, although she never let go of the dagger’s hilt. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously then made a small gesture at her throat. She couldn't speak. Jeanne scratched the side of his head. Now it made more sense why she hadn’t shouted like anyone else would. “No voice, eh? I reckon it’s nothing a bit of paper and ink can’t fix.”
☾
By all accounts, Iseult should be dead. She had been prepared to die, perhaps to a small extent even anticipated it. Logic and reasoning had convinced her that it was the only possible outcome and yet, here she was, very much alive, standing before the tall iron gates that led to the Knights’ Barracks. Her memories from her early days in Ironheart were largely a blur, having spent a good part of it unconscious, amplified by the sedatives given to her at the sanatorium to ease her pain. Her brain had felt like one large gelatinous mush, unable to discern where one thought ended and another began. Her first clear thought after the Ruins was meeting Jeanne, the strange deimforged who had grown to be somewhat of an acquaintance in the past few weeks.
She rummaged in the satchel and fished out the letter he had handed to her only yesterday and considered it intently.
To the esteemed Knights of Justicar,
Through the
Unfortunately, my present work takes me away from the city for the time being, but if my estimation is accurate - and it usually is - I will convene with the party as you crest the hill just beyond the city’s walls.
I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
Jeanne B. Jacque
Iseult had half a mind to tear it in half and toss it into the canal but always stopped short of doing so out of respect to that ancient pile of bones. Honestly, what kind of half-wit would willingly join a party led by the same people who had sworn an oath to wipe your entire race? Sometimes, despite all the knowledge he held from years of existence, she couldn’t decide if Jeanne was crazy or stupid. With a frustrated sigh, she reached up and rubbed her face causing the hood of her traveling cloak to fall back. A breeze immediately hit her face and Iseult lost herself momentarily as she savored the sensation of cool air against her balmy skin. It was always so warm under that cloak.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a small child a little ways away gawking at her before quickly getting ushered away by his mother. Iseult snapped back to reality and quickly pulled her hood back up, hiding her face once more from public scrutiny. If anyone had been watching closely, for the briefest second they might have caught a glimpse of the person she once was rather than just the scarred empty shell she had become.
Poor thing…
Nothing else we could do…
Wounds that deep are sure to leave scars…
Ruined forever…
The words rang in her head with the persistence of a mosquito. The hushed whispers - and it was always the whispers that were the loudest - of the nurses as they shut the door behind them. Unlike most other whispers though, these were all true.
In the distance, she heard the clock tower strike noon alerting her that the time to wallow in her thoughts was over. She stepped past the gates and into the courtyard beyond where a small group of people had already gathered. Looking to Sir Wallace, she gave him a small nod in greeting and handed over Jeanne's letter. She had met the Knight when he came to visit her not too long ago at the sanatorium. Apparently, he had been part of the party that rescued her from the Ruins, not that she remembered. He’d also come to ask for a favor which was perhaps the only reason she was standing in this courtyard now. If given the choice, Iseult never wanted to step into the wretched place that was the Ruins ever again, but she hated the idea of being indebted to anyone, let alone owe them a life debt.
She turned to the squire next to Sir Wallace, Eldin she assumed, and greeted him similarly. Only then did she turn to the rest of the people present. The first thing to catch her attention wasn’t a person at all, but a large bullfrog sitting on the shoulder of… a larger frog? Closer inspection revealed that it was in fact, simply a frog hood, although the way it had been designed made it look like the owner of said hood, a Nebosi woman in her thirties, was getting swallowed by the amphibian. Next to her was another Nebosi, not even past her teens, evident from the softness of her face and too optimistic disposition. Iseult had been here but five minutes and already the girl’s endless questions were exhausting her. Lastly, there was a beautiful young human woman, dressed in fighting leathers and carrying a decent-looking longsword at her side. Iseult would have thought her a competent fighter if not for the fact that she looked like she’d just crawled out of a bar fight and smelled like it too.
Iseult was suddenly immensely grateful for the cloak she had. Otherwise, she might not have been able to hide the look of absolute bewilderment and fear that crossed her face. The knights had requested for an escort party but this was starting to feel more like a flock of lambs being sent to slaughter.
SentinelSevn
sheesh
A.I.S.H.A.
Pai Chan
Fred Colon
EMIYAman
Last edited:
A.I.S.H.A.
Artificial Integrated Social Human Algorithm
Raisha was still lamenting her lack of alcohol when she heard soft footsteps behind her. Like a fairy gently dipping her toes with each footfall. Raisha turned around with a ready set image of a prim and proper princess being followed by a lapdog in armor. Instead, she got.... someone else. Raisha's eyes narrowed and she scanned the newcomer up and down. The way the scars slithered across her skin, eyes deeper than an ice chasm, all seemed to write one thing on her lips. This was a woman with a secret. A story. A purpose. Raisha scoffed.
"You've seen better days," Raisha watched her hair whisk in the breeze like a burning halo. She approached and took her hand, paying no mind to her own muddied and bloodied appearance. Slowly, she bowed and planted a kiss on it. "Raisha deBelle. It will be a pleasure to fight alongside you." She paused. "I hope." Her eyes flashed with caution in that moment but her expression remained tame.
"If I may ask, from where do you hail?"
Saturn_moon
"You've seen better days," Raisha watched her hair whisk in the breeze like a burning halo. She approached and took her hand, paying no mind to her own muddied and bloodied appearance. Slowly, she bowed and planted a kiss on it. "Raisha deBelle. It will be a pleasure to fight alongside you." She paused. "I hope." Her eyes flashed with caution in that moment but her expression remained tame.
"If I may ask, from where do you hail?"
Saturn_moon
EMIYAman
I BONE OF THE SWORD
"'The Justicar-Errant must be swift of foot, proficient with the sword, steadfast in the face of adversity and possess a great strength of will. But greater even than these, is the light of justice carried into the darkest of place to eradicate evil wherever it may be found...'"
Eyes of blue eagerly took in every written word within the Book of Justicar. Locks of blond hair fluttered slightly in the cool breeze of the day, and a hand gripped the spine of the book while the other rested against the pommel of the sword at the Justicar Squires waist. The young man sat in the shade of a tree with one leg at an angle and the other flat upon the grass, his head was partially obscured by a hood of white which billowed slightly in the wind. If one were to look upon his face they would be met with soft boyish features unlike those of the average Justicar Knight, this was a face which had not yet cast off the remnants of youth.
He pinched his fingers and turned to the next page with nary a sound accompanied only by the constant presence of the breeze.
"...however, should a Knight destroy evil with untempered rage and a tumultuous heart then they will become the greatest threat to our order. The perversion of justice.' -Garran Crowe"
Fritz Kaslan's grip upon the book tightened and his lips grew thin and firm as he gazed upon the words of the 23rd Knight-King.
*RING*...*RING*...*RING*
Fritz eyes went wide as he heard the sound and after a brief period of contemplation he realized something he had forgotten. "Ah, I'm late." he closed the book quickly swept it into his travel sack, pulled his hood fully over his face and ran for the Ironheart courtyard. He got puzzled looks and even cries of recognition form those he passed on the road but he could not stop for either. By the time he reached the courtyard he was panting for breath, as he spotted the entourage of adventurers, fellow squire and accompanying Knight he raced in front them before stopping. He took a moment bent over breathing heavily with beads of sweat dripping down his face.
"S-sir Wallace a-and..." He paused and took a deep breath. "Mr.Weistann Justicar Squire Fritz Kaslan has arrived as promised!" Despite his exasperation he straightened his back and performed a proper Justicar salute without a hitch. His eyes focused upon them intensely. He took a moment to briefly shift his eyes over to the group of adventurers which seemed to be quite the colorful cast. As he glanced at the inhumans his sword hand briefly twitch but his face remained passive, he paused briefly as he took in the scarred women's face then dismissing her just as quick bringing him back face to face with his charge and Sir Wallace.
Eyes of blue eagerly took in every written word within the Book of Justicar. Locks of blond hair fluttered slightly in the cool breeze of the day, and a hand gripped the spine of the book while the other rested against the pommel of the sword at the Justicar Squires waist. The young man sat in the shade of a tree with one leg at an angle and the other flat upon the grass, his head was partially obscured by a hood of white which billowed slightly in the wind. If one were to look upon his face they would be met with soft boyish features unlike those of the average Justicar Knight, this was a face which had not yet cast off the remnants of youth.
He pinched his fingers and turned to the next page with nary a sound accompanied only by the constant presence of the breeze.
"...however, should a Knight destroy evil with untempered rage and a tumultuous heart then they will become the greatest threat to our order. The perversion of justice.' -Garran Crowe"
Fritz Kaslan's grip upon the book tightened and his lips grew thin and firm as he gazed upon the words of the 23rd Knight-King.
*RING*...*RING*...*RING*
Fritz eyes went wide as he heard the sound and after a brief period of contemplation he realized something he had forgotten. "Ah, I'm late." he closed the book quickly swept it into his travel sack, pulled his hood fully over his face and ran for the Ironheart courtyard. He got puzzled looks and even cries of recognition form those he passed on the road but he could not stop for either. By the time he reached the courtyard he was panting for breath, as he spotted the entourage of adventurers, fellow squire and accompanying Knight he raced in front them before stopping. He took a moment bent over breathing heavily with beads of sweat dripping down his face.
"S-sir Wallace a-and..." He paused and took a deep breath. "Mr.Weistann Justicar Squire Fritz Kaslan has arrived as promised!" Despite his exasperation he straightened his back and performed a proper Justicar salute without a hitch. His eyes focused upon them intensely. He took a moment to briefly shift his eyes over to the group of adventurers which seemed to be quite the colorful cast. As he glanced at the inhumans his sword hand briefly twitch but his face remained passive, he paused briefly as he took in the scarred women's face then dismissing her just as quick bringing him back face to face with his charge and Sir Wallace.
SentinelSevn
Professional Coffee Addict
As the gates began to ease their way open, Eldin set his eyes below its exposed arches with a wary curiosity. He didn’t have to continue gazing for very long until he locked eyes with the first figure. Even from a distance it was obvious that they were taller than most, and he bet that if the figure raised their arms they could have reached up and pulled at the arches. His mind began to ease, knowing that if the figures were built similarly, then the rest of their journey was going to have been made easy.
But his peace of mind was short-lived. As the figure began to step up to the entrance of the barracks, the features of the first arrival began to be made ever-more clear. The set of eyes that he had seen beneath the hood, cat-like and narrowed into horizontal slits, sat atop the head of a creature that glistened with the streaks of sun. A toad, or a frog. He never really bothered to learn the difference. Beneath the unavoidable amphibian that was resting on the top of the figure, he continued his gaze downwards until he made out the features of a second face. His expectations had been inevitably lowered with the idea of a frog-man joining them, that the distinguishable features of nose and a mouth breathed in a sense of relief yet again.
He raised a brow when the woman approached, and watched as she began to pick up speed until she was at a hasty gait, astoundedly without any change in her breathing. Eldin then became more concerned with the fact that she appeared to be glaring up at them as she ran, her hand outstretched like she was making an extended lunge for their throats. He slowly began to inch his hand closer to the training mace that he had snapped to his belt, but the idea was dissuaded by a slight wave from Sir Wallace, who looked to be unwavering. When she was no more than a few paces away, her mouth finally opened to speak - no, it was more of a bark - her and the toad’s name in introduction. The hand that he had assumed was out to attack ended up being an arm outstretched for a handshake, and one that she looked like she needed to have.
Even though they had been on the raised platform of the barracks, the woman stood at an equal level to them from the soft dirt of the training yard. From the corner of his eye, Eldin saw the knight at his side shift in the slightest to return the adventurer’s outstretched hand. But the adventurer moved yet again, surprising them both. This time her other hand shot up, and it was directed towards him. It was odd, but he knew it would have been rude of him not to return the hand. He reached out with his left hand to grasp hers in an uncomfortable grip.
“Sir Wallace,” he heard the knight begin to speak. As soon as they were released from the monstrous grip of Polly, the knight directed his hands towards him. “And this is Eldin. My squire, and who you and the other adventurers will be accompanying.”
It wasn’t much longer before the gates opened yet again, signaling that another one of the adventurers had made their way here. It was to his relief as he watched the next adventurer walk in, that they appeared to walk normally. He flinched as they tried to emulate the signature salute of the Justicar’s, but the corner of his eyes crinkled in the slightest as he judged the slight canting of her wrist, and the overextension of her elbow. Even for a passing salute, it was odd seeing the rigidity exaggerated in some areas while other parts seemed rather relaxed.
When her salute was concluded, Eldin hardly had a moment to return the introduction before a flurry of questions were shot towards them. Sir Wallace was quicker in his response, stating “Actually, she’s one of yours. But refrain from asking questions until the other adventurers arrive. I’m sure as more of you come along, we’ll have just as many questions in return. We shall have all night to get acquainted, after all.”
Another figure approaching from the gates lured Eldin away from Ayesha and her questions, turning to see another adventurer hobbling their way over. He thought to ask whether they were hurt, or at least call one of the medics under their employ to see if she needed any attention. As she continued to get closer, he noticed the filth that came with her. Mud and feathers streaked itself through her chestnut brown hair to the point it looked like one of the feather garbs worn by the natives in the Tribal Expanse. Blood stained her face, but it seemed to only exemplify the brilliance of her bright blue eyes. The features on her face were sharp, narrow. Even with the relatively angry look on her face there was no way around the fact that she was naturally quite gorgeous, she could have erred in the line of passing off as royalty of one of the nation’s kings. Ironcrown’s even, if she didn’t have all that mess caked onto herself. Some kind of odd, Tribal Expanse princess.
The next arrival was rather silent. Similarly to the previous adventurer, they both had held off on the named introductions. Eldin watched as she approached, and at least from the exposed skin from her wrists on and the neck up, that she was near completely covered in scarred over scratches. They appeared to still be pink and fresh, and the thought of how irksome any of the rough clothing would be on any tender flesh. She handed a letter to Sir Wallace, who looked at her not out of surprise like he expected him to look over at some mysterious, silent figure. But an eye of pity and familiarity, like he had already expected her arrival. The knight not asking for any introductions further emphasized that assumption. But it didn’t appear to be someone that Eldin had recognized, and he had been pretty attached to the knight by the hip for the last fifteen years, leaving him with only more questions than answers. The idea was pushed to the back of his mind, knowing that he would have plenty of time to discuss it with the scarred woman during their journey.
As the gates opened another time, his gaze was pulled away from the current arrivals to see what other unique addition to their party was being offered. The idea that this was just some elaborate prank played by the knightdom to send him on a quest with only women shot across his mind, but he knew that such an idea would be far beyond them. Besides, he wasn’t sure how much he trusted the idea of putting his lives solely in their hands. They were no squadron of Valkyries, after all.
The figure that passed through those gates next came in at a sprinting speed, completely unlike the first arrival, named Polly if he remembered correctly, who approached at a similar pace but with an entirely unphased demeanor. His garb wasn’t unlike that the rest of the Justicar’s, and his assumption of the new arrival being a squire was assured by his introduction. But the squire wasn’t familiar, nor did he look much younger than himself, leading Eldin to believe that it was perhaps a squire from one of the more lesser knights. Again, another inquiry for their journey.
“Ahem,” Sir Wallace coughed out, clearing his throat. “It seems that all of our adventurers have arrived, in one shape or form.” He stated while waving the letter up towards the scarred woman. “It seems one of your companions will be joining you early in your journey, before you make it into the Skirk Province.”
He reached towards his back, detaching a scroll tucked into the back of his belt, and undid the royal blue wax seal from the parchment. “For those of you unaware, I am Sir Wallace, a Justicar Knight, and the host of your quest. And this is my squire..” With the scroll in hand, he directed it towards Eldin, for him to read out instead.
“I am Eldin Weistann. Squire under Sir Wallace’s tutelage,” Eldin presented, taking the scroll in hand before unfurling it. “Greetings, I am grateful for having you accompany me in my trials, one of the last in line for me to finally take up my seal in becoming a full fledged knight. I look forward to taking on this adventure with you all, knowing that we will come back victorious and with the spoils to tell of the tale.”
He looked down at the scroll, and began to read aloud. “Our journey firstly has us leaving this city, and taking the most direct path towards the Ruins of the Eclipse. From there, we will follow the outskirts of the fallen nation, into the borders of the Skirk Province.” His gaze darted up towards the adventurers, the eyes being trained on him making him unsure whether or not they were already questioning their decision. “”From the borders of Skirk, we will be primarily following the routes that the goblin traders follow for safer passage until we reach the City of Sillish, a goblin outpost for trading their raw ores and materials, and rest there. Assuming we have no unexpected delays on foot, we should be here within a week’s time of leaving the city. Near Sillish is an entrance to Skirk’s massive underground cave system, and following the correct route, we should not surface until we make it the goblin city of Ferro.” He cut away from looking at the scroll here, adding “The caves easily become pitch dark to the point that seeing that which is more than an inch in front of you becomes impossible,” At his own hesitation, or perhaps fear. He then continued on, “Once we arrive at Ferro, we will be traversing the remaining way across the Skirk Province above ground until we reach the borders of the Cryikk Wastes, where there are points that are cursed by a never-ending blizzard. Another week on foot, from the point we depart from Silish. Following the borders of the Cryikk Wastes and the nation of Skirk, it should be another week’s travels before we arrive at the city of Ciberria, where you can consider the quest complete.”
With a breath, Eldin began to furl up the scroll, signaling that he had completed explaining the path they were to undertake. “Your goal, and the reason you were hired for this task, is to make sure that I make it back alive and well. Likewise, I am also tasked in making sure that all of you make it to Ciberria in the same condition that you will be leaving this city in.” The idea of it should be simple, he had made the journey with less companions in the past, even more and he should be able to return equally if not more safe. But that similar feeling in the back of his head told him otherwise, like some premonition foreboding his future.
“Seeing as that it is just past noon, I imagine we would be better off leaving at sunrise. Leaving now, we wouldn’t even make it to the borders of the Eclipse.” Eldin suggested quickly, changing the subject and trying to crack a small smile on his face in hopes that nobody decides to surrender their acceptance now that the quest had been elaborated. “We would have the sun’s light on our side for at least a small portion past the Eclipse, and tonight we could perhaps er-..” He paused for a moment, looking for the best way to tell the group they had time to take a bath without looking over at the woman covered in feathers and blood, “Prepare for our journey, with a toast and a drink to our success.”
The Justicar Quest
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Eldin Weistann - Justicar Squire
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Eldin Weistann - Justicar Squire
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
Saturn_moon
梦想
Iseult Nihar
Iseult was internally contemplating the group's chances of survival when the human woman, covered in blood, dirt, and feathers, suddenly took her hand, bowed, and pressed a kiss to it. "Raisha deBelle. It will be a pleasure to fight alongside you."
Instinctively, Iseult tensed and snatched her hand back, cradling it almost as if she'd been burned. She traced the back of her hand, where lips had met skin, and felt the ridges of the scars that ran across. There was a time when Iseult would have barely flinched at such a gesture, welcomed it even. Amongst the nobles and elite, fame was power, and power was everything. So, for a girl who came from nothing, Iseult had relished the power she held within Lord Sharpe's circle even if it had little to do with her own capabilities and everything to do with the way she looked. It was intoxicating and every taste she got only led to her wanting more. Unfortunately, she made the grave mistake of thinking the power to be her own when it was never hers to own in the first place.
She spared the woman - Raisha, was it? - a secondary glance and realized how brusque she must have seemed. It had been a long time since Iseult was in the company of someone that wasn't a nurse or a walking skeleton and the unfamiliarity of the situation had her nerves feeling more frayed than usual. Cautiously, she reached out and took Raisha's hand, then turned it over and traced in her palm: I-S-E-U-L-T.
Taking a step back, Iseult gently tugged the collar of her cloak down to reveal to those present the long, angry scar that ran right across her neck. Her expression hardened as she did so, eyes challenging anyone to show her pity. Fear she could manage, even disgust would not have been as bad, but pity? Pity was just another way for people to tell her that she was lesser. That she was… inhuman. However, her confidence was short-lived for their fifth and last party member, a young man – more of a boy really – with hair so blonde it shined gold under the sunlight, came sprinting through the gates causing Iseult to jump and retreat back into the shadows of her cloak.
With all members now present, Eldin proceeded to explain the details of their quest. Every word that passed the squire’s mouth caused the stone in Iseult’s heart to sink deeper and deeper. By the time Eldin had reached the end of his scroll, she was certain she would have passed out if not for her nails biting into her palms from clenching her hands too tightly. She anxiously looked around trying to see if anyone else might have a similar reaction but her vision was far too unfocused for her to make out anything definitive. She closed her eyes and took one deep breath after another. Stasis... Iseult told herself. Stasis in your body, stasis in your mind, stasis in your heart.
As she tried to find the equilibrium in her world once more, she heard Eldin mention something about drinks and slowly nodded in response. Unconventional, but she didn't think anyone would be opposed to her seeking aid in the form of liquid courage. Especially if they were about to embark on a three week long journey into the metaphorical depths of hell.
Minor Bloodstep x 1, Minor Anemia x 2, Summon Minor Honumculous x 1, Uncover Skill x 1
Mana Pool: 15/30
Mana Pool: 15/30
SentinelSevn
A.I.S.H.A.
sheesh
Pai Chan
Fred Colon
EMIYAman
Last edited:
A.I.S.H.A.
Artificial Integrated Social Human Algorithm
The woman withdrew her hand suddenly. For a moment, Raisha could only stare at her calloused fingers and worn gloves. She looked up and stood straight. Silence passed between them like a frigid mist and for a second, Raisha seemed frozen within her own thoughts. Maybe she was too crude.
"I-" she started to say but before she had the chance to finish, the woman reached out to her. Raisha stopped and watched as she took her hand and started to run her finger along her palm. She furrowed her brow in confusion but slowly began to lose herself in her touch when suddenly, it clicked. She's spelling out letters! Is-eu-lt.. Iseult! Riasha's eyes sparkled for a moment but her expression remained as hardened as it ever was. She watched as Iseult revealed a particularly deep set scar that ran across her throat. Raisha exhaled, her breath carrying her understanding with it.
"I see," the words slid from her tongue seamlessly. "I suppose you don't take kindly to monsters either." It was all Raisha could offer to her at the moment. She turned towards the rest of the group and inspected them carefully. The two people that had arrived before her... one was exceedingly... strange. Between the frog and being lost in regards to social mannerisms, all Raisha could conclude about the Nebosi was, 'weirdo.' And the other woman seemed, at the very least, athletic. She can certainly fight. Maybe. Raisha didn't count on it. Something about her eagerness lead her to believe that whoever this was hadn't seen the worst of the world. Raisha's expression darkened. Her eyes dulled as they mulled over the next person. The young man seemed carefree to say the least but his introduction was quite formal. He knew a thing or two about Justicar if he was addressing them in such a manner. Beyond that, she couldn't guess. Raisha scoffed. Her gaze drifted back to Iseult. Why was she here? Shouldn't she be getting medical attention? Raisha knew fresh scars when she saw them. These were very fresh. Needless to say, she needed to do what she always did; depend on herself, and only herself. The task ahead began to loom over her as the men organizing the entire mission grabbed ahold of everyone's attention.
A certain Sir Wallace spoke briefly in a manner that demanded respect, which Raisha could... well, respect. The young man next to him? Not so much. A wannabe knight, he was. Now this was going to be entertaining. Raisha stabbed her sword into the ground and leaned on it while the squire spoke more in detail about the mission. The steps of the journey glazed lazily through her mind and as he droned on, Raisha's attention turned towards the feathers that stuck to her. She huffed, plucking one off her shoulder and casting it aside. Then she looked at her arm and frowned. Soon enough, Raisha found herself swatting away feathers from her form as inconspicuously as possible so as to not interrupt this squire person. Eldo. Eli. Whatever his name is. Squire-boy.
That was when he mentioned the Cryikk Wastes. Raisha stopped. Slowly, her eyes rolled up to the squire. He wants to go into the Cryikk Wastes? Raisha's tried for years to venture into those lands but was always stopped short no more than a few miles south of her town. Her eyes burned into him as he spoke, digging claws into his demeanor, searching for any hint of faltering. A façade was what this was. A joke. He would die. Everyone would, including herself, unless she got lucky. If she got lucky. Who did this guy think he was?
“Your goal, and the reason you were hired for this task, is to make sure that I make it back alive and well." Raisha tuned out without bothering to listen to the rest of it. Some squire. Her eyes drifted back to the rest of the group and scanned them once again. She lingered on Iseult, spotting some sort of tension drifting in the undertow of her mind. The clenched fists said as much. Something about this journey bothered her; not that it was any of Raisha's business. She returned to plucking feathers out of her clothes. Maybe that bath house was a good idea after all, if she had money. No food, no liquor, and no bath house was all that awaited her. The squire sounded like he was reaching the end of his grand monologue so Raisha glanced back in his direction and looked him up and down, making no effort to hide her judgmental stare.
"...tonight we could perhaps er-..” He paused for a moment, “Prepare for our journey, with a toast and a drink to our success.” What success? Did all squires act this cocky? Raisha sheathed her sword and stepped forward without a moment's hesitation.
"If I may ask, Sir Wallace," skipping over the squire entirely, "Is any of the pay for this mission up front? I carry nothing with me. No food, drink, or general supplies. I won't be preparing much if I can't get compensation for even accepting this," Raisha glanced at the squire, then back at Sir Wallace, "mission. Much peril awaits us in the journey ahead." She didn't bow. She didn't mince her words. All Raisha did was glare at the knight, daring him to refuse her demand. It was framed as a question but Raisha didn't spare him. It was a demand.
Saturn_moon
SentinelSevn
EMIYAman
Pai Chan
Fred Colon
"I-" she started to say but before she had the chance to finish, the woman reached out to her. Raisha stopped and watched as she took her hand and started to run her finger along her palm. She furrowed her brow in confusion but slowly began to lose herself in her touch when suddenly, it clicked. She's spelling out letters! Is-eu-lt.. Iseult! Riasha's eyes sparkled for a moment but her expression remained as hardened as it ever was. She watched as Iseult revealed a particularly deep set scar that ran across her throat. Raisha exhaled, her breath carrying her understanding with it.
"I see," the words slid from her tongue seamlessly. "I suppose you don't take kindly to monsters either." It was all Raisha could offer to her at the moment. She turned towards the rest of the group and inspected them carefully. The two people that had arrived before her... one was exceedingly... strange. Between the frog and being lost in regards to social mannerisms, all Raisha could conclude about the Nebosi was, 'weirdo.' And the other woman seemed, at the very least, athletic. She can certainly fight. Maybe. Raisha didn't count on it. Something about her eagerness lead her to believe that whoever this was hadn't seen the worst of the world. Raisha's expression darkened. Her eyes dulled as they mulled over the next person. The young man seemed carefree to say the least but his introduction was quite formal. He knew a thing or two about Justicar if he was addressing them in such a manner. Beyond that, she couldn't guess. Raisha scoffed. Her gaze drifted back to Iseult. Why was she here? Shouldn't she be getting medical attention? Raisha knew fresh scars when she saw them. These were very fresh. Needless to say, she needed to do what she always did; depend on herself, and only herself. The task ahead began to loom over her as the men organizing the entire mission grabbed ahold of everyone's attention.
A certain Sir Wallace spoke briefly in a manner that demanded respect, which Raisha could... well, respect. The young man next to him? Not so much. A wannabe knight, he was. Now this was going to be entertaining. Raisha stabbed her sword into the ground and leaned on it while the squire spoke more in detail about the mission. The steps of the journey glazed lazily through her mind and as he droned on, Raisha's attention turned towards the feathers that stuck to her. She huffed, plucking one off her shoulder and casting it aside. Then she looked at her arm and frowned. Soon enough, Raisha found herself swatting away feathers from her form as inconspicuously as possible so as to not interrupt this squire person. Eldo. Eli. Whatever his name is. Squire-boy.
That was when he mentioned the Cryikk Wastes. Raisha stopped. Slowly, her eyes rolled up to the squire. He wants to go into the Cryikk Wastes? Raisha's tried for years to venture into those lands but was always stopped short no more than a few miles south of her town. Her eyes burned into him as he spoke, digging claws into his demeanor, searching for any hint of faltering. A façade was what this was. A joke. He would die. Everyone would, including herself, unless she got lucky. If she got lucky. Who did this guy think he was?
“Your goal, and the reason you were hired for this task, is to make sure that I make it back alive and well." Raisha tuned out without bothering to listen to the rest of it. Some squire. Her eyes drifted back to the rest of the group and scanned them once again. She lingered on Iseult, spotting some sort of tension drifting in the undertow of her mind. The clenched fists said as much. Something about this journey bothered her; not that it was any of Raisha's business. She returned to plucking feathers out of her clothes. Maybe that bath house was a good idea after all, if she had money. No food, no liquor, and no bath house was all that awaited her. The squire sounded like he was reaching the end of his grand monologue so Raisha glanced back in his direction and looked him up and down, making no effort to hide her judgmental stare.
"...tonight we could perhaps er-..” He paused for a moment, “Prepare for our journey, with a toast and a drink to our success.” What success? Did all squires act this cocky? Raisha sheathed her sword and stepped forward without a moment's hesitation.
"If I may ask, Sir Wallace," skipping over the squire entirely, "Is any of the pay for this mission up front? I carry nothing with me. No food, drink, or general supplies. I won't be preparing much if I can't get compensation for even accepting this," Raisha glanced at the squire, then back at Sir Wallace, "mission. Much peril awaits us in the journey ahead." She didn't bow. She didn't mince her words. All Raisha did was glare at the knight, daring him to refuse her demand. It was framed as a question but Raisha didn't spare him. It was a demand.
Saturn_moon
SentinelSevn
EMIYAman
Pai Chan
Fred Colon
Pai Chan
Elder Member
As the Knight answered Ayesha her mouth quickly shut and she nodded. She then looked at Polly with curiosity. How would she fight or travel in such attire? Sure, the person was a mage and didn’t intend for any sort of physical confrontation. But either way, the frog person was one of them. So Ayesha wouldn’t dwell on appearances.And then a person approached that made Ayesha instantly reconsider her previous thought. A woman with an unfriendly look about her, not to mention being dirt and blood covered.
After her came another person dressed in a cloak. Another mage? It was mages that wore cloaks, right? Or something like that. Despite the odd appearance of the frog outfit it was in the same ballpark. Not to mention, Ayesha didn’t visibly see any weapons on anyone else besides the knights and the unkind, looking, woman. At least they had a diverse party. But that also meant having to keep an eye on the backline during battle. Ayesha had practiced this drill plenty. But the girl was sure the real thing would be a little more unpredictable. If Ayesha looked back to check on the mages at the wrong time, that could be a fatal mistake in the midst of battle.
As Ayesha was lost in thought a young man approached the party. He looked much cleaner than the prior two. Ayesha thought he might be royalty but when he addressed the two other Justicars and performed a proper salute and introduced himself, there was no room for question. Another squire. Fritz was basically where Ayesha saw herself in the future.
Then Sir Wallace spoke. The full party had arrived and he would continue with a debriefing. As he spoke Ayesha could feel butterflies in her stomach. She was nervous, of course. For good reason. This was her first adventure and with people she wasn’t acquainted with. For once, she was on her own as an adult. And she was already on the first step of achieving her dream. With this quest she would prove to herself and the squire that she was worthy of becoming a Justicar herself. This was something she trained for. And no goblin, cave creature, or inconvenience, during this quest, would stop her.
Then Eldin mentioned that they leave the next day. Ayesha was taken aback by the plan but she understood it. Traveling during daylight in unfriendly territory was the best course of action. But the issue was that the young warrior didn’t exactly come with money. The dirty woman spoke up to suggest as much and Ayesha was glad she wasn’t the only one. Although the tone of voice wasn’t exactly desirable it did match the woman’s unfriendly glare.
SentinelSevn
Professional Coffee Addict
Eldin looked towards his master, who was already equally glancing towards his side towards his squire, at the brashness of the woman in front of them. A wry smile cracked at the corner of Eldin’s lips, definitely unexpecting of the adventurers’ to be so forward considering the infamy itself of completing a quest posted by the Justicar Knightdom was typically enough for an adventurer to gain infamy in their local small town. A huff of disappointment came from Sir Wallace, another adventurer well over their head.
“The lack of preparation is at no fault to anybody but the individual themselves. Considering nothing for food nor drink, with the breadth of such a mission already expressed onto you, means you seek nothing but death.” Sir Wallace gave no quarter to the warrior, instead only raising a brow in curiosity towards how she intended to back her demands. “Next, you must expect us to arm you in our suits and bestow upon you our finest of arms?” The tone of his voice expected her to continue to challenge him. “Do you also expect us to wash the mud and feathers you gained rolling around with the hens out of your hair for you?”
Eldin then placed a hand atop his master’s shoulder, reminding the older knight that there were still others watching. Sir Wallace, let out a huff of disappointment, his shoulder easing as he understood that his squire expected to take the reigns on such a quest. It was his trial after all, and his coalition of adventurers. Sir Wallace took a step back, allowing Eldin to become the leading man facing the rest of the party.
“You are our guests. Naturally, as the decision to stay the night within the city falls under me, your lodging and food tonight will be covered by myself, as the host,” The squire began to explain. “One night is fully covered for each of you at the city’s finest inn, The High Olive. Where their home brewed ale is meant to be the strongest in this half of the continent. Knowing the routes in which we will be taking, I also prepared tools for each of you for our journey, enough to at least bring us to Sillish. Bringing supplies for the entire trip, we would have needed to prepare a horse-drawn cart.” He said with an eased chuckle, also unphased by Raisha’s threatening demands, but hoping to ease the tension brought upon by her.
“You mock them, providing everything for them.” Mumbled the knight, just loudly enough for the front of the party to hear.
“The lack of preparation is at no fault to anybody but the individual themselves. Considering nothing for food nor drink, with the breadth of such a mission already expressed onto you, means you seek nothing but death.” Sir Wallace gave no quarter to the warrior, instead only raising a brow in curiosity towards how she intended to back her demands. “Next, you must expect us to arm you in our suits and bestow upon you our finest of arms?” The tone of his voice expected her to continue to challenge him. “Do you also expect us to wash the mud and feathers you gained rolling around with the hens out of your hair for you?”
Eldin then placed a hand atop his master’s shoulder, reminding the older knight that there were still others watching. Sir Wallace, let out a huff of disappointment, his shoulder easing as he understood that his squire expected to take the reigns on such a quest. It was his trial after all, and his coalition of adventurers. Sir Wallace took a step back, allowing Eldin to become the leading man facing the rest of the party.
“You are our guests. Naturally, as the decision to stay the night within the city falls under me, your lodging and food tonight will be covered by myself, as the host,” The squire began to explain. “One night is fully covered for each of you at the city’s finest inn, The High Olive. Where their home brewed ale is meant to be the strongest in this half of the continent. Knowing the routes in which we will be taking, I also prepared tools for each of you for our journey, enough to at least bring us to Sillish. Bringing supplies for the entire trip, we would have needed to prepare a horse-drawn cart.” He said with an eased chuckle, also unphased by Raisha’s threatening demands, but hoping to ease the tension brought upon by her.
“You mock them, providing everything for them.” Mumbled the knight, just loudly enough for the front of the party to hear.
The Justicar Quest
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Eldin Weistann - Justicar Squire
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
Fred Colon
It was so much easier to blame it on Them.
Polly was pleased to discover that her initial interaction had gone well. The two knights, one of whom had indeed been Elin like she'd guessed, had returned her handshake. What was more, she'd completely forgotten to ask about their day with the arrival of the other members of the party, and no offense had been taken! She took her notebook out of her backpack,
Inquiries about their day seemed unnecessary. Special circumstances? Or previous observations flawed?
That done, she put her notebook back, and removed another one she'd labeled 'Party Observations' across its spine. She'd split it up into specific sections reserved for different party members. One had already had the name 'Elin' on it, as she'd known his name from inquiring about the quest. Making initial observations were important, so they could be compared to later observations. One of her immediate projects was to determine how much adversity and circumstance changed a mortal, after all. It wasn't perfect, but these first interactions would be her baseline for any other observations she made.
Polite. Wants to buy us drinks? Phenomena such as 'flirting' include the buying of others drinks, but more likely a sign of friendship as he wishes to buy the entire party drinks. Will accept, and see what happens. Human. Appears to be male. Muscular build, black hair, eyes. The entire effect is relatively pleasing to the eye by societal standards as I understand them. No visible scarring, though a closer look could be had later.
She flipped to the next section and scribbled down 'Ayesha'
Young. Enjoys questions, which one can appreciate. Considered me a Justicar mascot. Stupid, possibly? I shall be generous and tentatively consider it a result of lack of experience. Questions are a good way to correct both inexperience and stupidity, so whatever the circumstance she is on the right track to rectifying the deficiency. Nebosi. Appears to be female. Slim build. Platinum hair, eyes. Also attractive by Nebosi societal standards which I am slightly more familiar with.
The Next section she wrote 'Raisha DeBelle'
Smells of alcohol. At this time of day indicates potential alcoholism. No slurred speech or stunted movements however, indicating they are currently sober. Kissed the entity known as 'Iseult' and gave compliments. Initiating mating ritual? Hormones elicit large scale changes. I can only hope that this is the case. I was right to come out of my swamp. The observation of others is extremely valuable in the observation of changes both small scale and large. Human. Appears to be female. Muscular build. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Harder features than the others. Not displeasing to look at, but intense.
Then, Iseult.
Mute. Horribly scarred. Must inquire about later. Scar on neck indicates she was not always mute. The scarring seems newer from what I can tell. This is a large scale, recent change, altering how Iseult interacts with almost everyone she meets. Interesting subject of study, if I have free time. How does this change her place within society? Can always replicate experiment at a later date, if no opportunity presents itself and I have the inclination. Human. Appears to be female. Slim build. Auburn hair. Amber eyes. Scarring makes what may have been an attractive face unpleasant to look at by human societal standards as I know them. Do not bring up the displeasing affect the scars have. May induce stress in others. She underlined this last part, and scribbled a little frog with angry eyebrows pointing to the text next to it, to remind herself that this was important.
Justicar Squire Fritz Kaslan,
Seems energetic in a similar way as Ayesha. Understandable. Both are young. Obvious respect for other members of the Justicar Knightdom. Hands strayed towards blade when observing Ayesha and myself. If hostility increases, slip sedatives in drinks and food to ensure ease of dispatch should he attempt to harm myself or Ayesha. Appears to be Male. Average Build. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Also attractive by commonly held views on the subject.
Done with that, Polly looked up at the group and smiled.
Jeremiah croaked into her ear.
"Yes. I should probably vork on not muttering aloud vhat I was writing."
Jeremiah croaked again.
"Too late for that now. They probably didn't hear me. They vere busy introducing themselves."
She turned to the others.
"My name is Polly to those who don't know, and this is my friend Jeremiah. How vas your day? I vould like to partake in food and drinks, friend Elin!" She said, putting her hands on her hips and straightening her back. Open body postures were considered more friendly, according to the books she'd read. And then, because she'd read it was a common saying, in situations like this where free things were being provided, she nodded her head and said,
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
She really was looking forward to food, drink and a place to stay. This was exhausting, interacting with others like this. She wasn't sure how others managed it with so much frequency. She was out of practice, she supposed, living alone for nigh on twenty five years. Maybe it was like a muscle. Something she could build up.
Inquiries about their day seemed unnecessary. Special circumstances? Or previous observations flawed?
That done, she put her notebook back, and removed another one she'd labeled 'Party Observations' across its spine. She'd split it up into specific sections reserved for different party members. One had already had the name 'Elin' on it, as she'd known his name from inquiring about the quest. Making initial observations were important, so they could be compared to later observations. One of her immediate projects was to determine how much adversity and circumstance changed a mortal, after all. It wasn't perfect, but these first interactions would be her baseline for any other observations she made.
Polite. Wants to buy us drinks? Phenomena such as 'flirting' include the buying of others drinks, but more likely a sign of friendship as he wishes to buy the entire party drinks. Will accept, and see what happens. Human. Appears to be male. Muscular build, black hair, eyes. The entire effect is relatively pleasing to the eye by societal standards as I understand them. No visible scarring, though a closer look could be had later.
She flipped to the next section and scribbled down 'Ayesha'
Young. Enjoys questions, which one can appreciate. Considered me a Justicar mascot. Stupid, possibly? I shall be generous and tentatively consider it a result of lack of experience. Questions are a good way to correct both inexperience and stupidity, so whatever the circumstance she is on the right track to rectifying the deficiency. Nebosi. Appears to be female. Slim build. Platinum hair, eyes. Also attractive by Nebosi societal standards which I am slightly more familiar with.
The Next section she wrote 'Raisha DeBelle'
Smells of alcohol. At this time of day indicates potential alcoholism. No slurred speech or stunted movements however, indicating they are currently sober. Kissed the entity known as 'Iseult' and gave compliments. Initiating mating ritual? Hormones elicit large scale changes. I can only hope that this is the case. I was right to come out of my swamp. The observation of others is extremely valuable in the observation of changes both small scale and large. Human. Appears to be female. Muscular build. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Harder features than the others. Not displeasing to look at, but intense.
Then, Iseult.
Mute. Horribly scarred. Must inquire about later. Scar on neck indicates she was not always mute. The scarring seems newer from what I can tell. This is a large scale, recent change, altering how Iseult interacts with almost everyone she meets. Interesting subject of study, if I have free time. How does this change her place within society? Can always replicate experiment at a later date, if no opportunity presents itself and I have the inclination. Human. Appears to be female. Slim build. Auburn hair. Amber eyes. Scarring makes what may have been an attractive face unpleasant to look at by human societal standards as I know them. Do not bring up the displeasing affect the scars have. May induce stress in others. She underlined this last part, and scribbled a little frog with angry eyebrows pointing to the text next to it, to remind herself that this was important.
Justicar Squire Fritz Kaslan,
Seems energetic in a similar way as Ayesha. Understandable. Both are young. Obvious respect for other members of the Justicar Knightdom. Hands strayed towards blade when observing Ayesha and myself. If hostility increases, slip sedatives in drinks and food to ensure ease of dispatch should he attempt to harm myself or Ayesha. Appears to be Male. Average Build. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Also attractive by commonly held views on the subject.
Done with that, Polly looked up at the group and smiled.
Jeremiah croaked into her ear.
"Yes. I should probably vork on not muttering aloud vhat I was writing."
Jeremiah croaked again.
"Too late for that now. They probably didn't hear me. They vere busy introducing themselves."
She turned to the others.
"My name is Polly to those who don't know, and this is my friend Jeremiah. How vas your day? I vould like to partake in food and drinks, friend Elin!" She said, putting her hands on her hips and straightening her back. Open body postures were considered more friendly, according to the books she'd read. And then, because she'd read it was a common saying, in situations like this where free things were being provided, she nodded her head and said,
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
She really was looking forward to food, drink and a place to stay. This was exhausting, interacting with others like this. She wasn't sure how others managed it with so much frequency. She was out of practice, she supposed, living alone for nigh on twenty five years. Maybe it was like a muscle. Something she could build up.
Last edited:
A.I.S.H.A.
Artificial Integrated Social Human Algorithm
Raisha crossed her arms and awaited a response. She watched as the squire smirked and Sir Wallace turned to address her demands. It didn't take more than that to figure out where this Efron person got his arrogance.
“The lack of preparation is at no fault to anybody but the individual themselves." Raisha paused...... WHAT. The longer Sir Wallace drew out his reprisal, the darker her expression became. Is this what he thought this was? Raisha opened her mouth, ready to fire back a biting retort but before she got the chance, Eduard stepped in. She watched a knowing glance pass between the squire and the knight and narrowed her eyes at them.
"You are our guests," he began and offered the group a night paid for in full. Raisha raised an eyebrow. This was surprising, although perhaps playing the hero was something the squire got a kick out of. She scoffed. Now it felt less surprising. Well, not that she cared. Raisha looked back at Sir Wallace with a curl to her lip.
"He might be your squire, Sir Wallace, but he's already twice the knight you'll ever be," she turned around, glanced over the group one more time and started to make her way out of the grounds. "I'll be at the High Olive." Raisha took out one of her hand axes and absentmindedly twirled it in her hand. "I thought I dealt with all the birds that poked around my rations this morning but, " she held up a middle finger, "looks like I missed one."
Raisha looked at the guard posted at the entrance. "The High Olive?" she asked. The guard blinked for a moment then pointed in a direction. Without another word, Raisha planted one foot after the other and walked off. She had a few ideas about how to spend her time at the city's finest inn.
SentinelSevn
“The lack of preparation is at no fault to anybody but the individual themselves." Raisha paused...... WHAT. The longer Sir Wallace drew out his reprisal, the darker her expression became. Is this what he thought this was? Raisha opened her mouth, ready to fire back a biting retort but before she got the chance, Eduard stepped in. She watched a knowing glance pass between the squire and the knight and narrowed her eyes at them.
"You are our guests," he began and offered the group a night paid for in full. Raisha raised an eyebrow. This was surprising, although perhaps playing the hero was something the squire got a kick out of. She scoffed. Now it felt less surprising. Well, not that she cared. Raisha looked back at Sir Wallace with a curl to her lip.
"He might be your squire, Sir Wallace, but he's already twice the knight you'll ever be," she turned around, glanced over the group one more time and started to make her way out of the grounds. "I'll be at the High Olive." Raisha took out one of her hand axes and absentmindedly twirled it in her hand. "I thought I dealt with all the birds that poked around my rations this morning but, " she held up a middle finger, "looks like I missed one."
Raisha looked at the guard posted at the entrance. "The High Olive?" she asked. The guard blinked for a moment then pointed in a direction. Without another word, Raisha planted one foot after the other and walked off. She had a few ideas about how to spend her time at the city's finest inn.
SentinelSevn
Last edited:
Pai Chan
Elder Member
Ayesha tensed up when Raisha snapped back at the Justicar. Sure, Ayesha wasn't all too pleased with Sir Wallace's answer either but he wasn't wrong. Ayesha was too eager to set out and had used up more rations than she had planned for the journey. But to snap at the Justicar for admonishing anyone for lack preparation seemed a bit rash. Luckily, the squire was quick to cut before anything escalated. He offered to accommodate the adventurers and Ayesha wondered if that was what was planned all along or if Eldin had only made it so to end the spat before it escalated. Either way, Ayesha was happy.
Raisha made off in a fashion that Ayesha assumed she’d have to get used to and hesitated in following.
“I’m sure she’s just having a bad day.” Ayesha thought out loud. “Surely, no one can be that crossed all the time.” Ayesha started for the gate to make her way to the inn that Eldin was accommodating for them. She was exhausted from the journey and was all too eager to relax for a moment before setting out again. Ayesha followed behind Raisha, albeit at a distance, as they made their way towards The High Olive.
Raisha made off in a fashion that Ayesha assumed she’d have to get used to and hesitated in following.
“I’m sure she’s just having a bad day.” Ayesha thought out loud. “Surely, no one can be that crossed all the time.” Ayesha started for the gate to make her way to the inn that Eldin was accommodating for them. She was exhausted from the journey and was all too eager to relax for a moment before setting out again. Ayesha followed behind Raisha, albeit at a distance, as they made their way towards The High Olive.
SentinelSevn
Professional Coffee Addict
The departure of both Raisha and Ayesha elicited an audible sigh of relief from Eldin. He was unsure how far the barbaric woman was willing to take that attitude of hers, but it eased him to know that she at least loosened her ground and didn’t push any further against Sir Wallace. He gave the knight a look over his shoulder, a raised eyebrow that questioned the lack of his verbal restraint. The knight only shrugged his shoulders, a huff beneath his breath displacing his moustache in the slightest.
“I assume that means you won’t be joining us for the festivities..?” Eldin questioned, already knowing the answer that he was going to be given.
Wallace waved his hand towards Eldin, as if attempting to shoo him away like a fly. “There comes a time when a cub must leave the pride and start his own. Go.” His arms were crossed over his chest like he was willing to give Eldin no other words, not even a secondary glance. “Besides. It would be a good time for me to visit some old friends. Only the company of his friends seem to ease his mind of the demons his eyes are riddled with, nowadays..”
Eldin gave his mentor another nod, “Then I will see you when we depart in the morning,” he said before facing towards the remaining three adventurers before him. He looked over at the three: Polly, Fritz, and Iseult. Seeing as how he had just about half of the party here at the moment, a change of plans was in order. He had intended to bring them into the barracks, to supply them with enough materials for the journey, as well as make sure that everybody was capable of using the bare minimum of survival gear. But without the entire party being present, it appears they will have to try and fit a visit into the barracks into their plans before they depart in the morning.. If he could manage to keep everyone in one place.
“I suppose we should join them at the inn, would be a good time to get to know each other,” Eldin said to the group, stepping down from the top of the barracks steps to stand besides them in the dirt. “Come along now, it won’t be more than a fifteen minute walk. The knights thought it would be a pain to have to walk any further, after a long day of fighting.” He didn’t decide to wait for the group to decide to follow, instead just leading the way past the gates from which they had entered from, assuming that they would have nowhere else to go aside from with him.
~~~~
The trek to the inn was, as Eldin had stated, no more than fifteen minutes. A walk that had primarily consisted of Eldin and Fritz leading the way through the city’s twists and turns, making their own assumptions and guesses about the party’s strengths, and what would be the best position for everyone to be in. It was an odd, on the fly, assessment of their strengths. They were both typically used to knowing the strengths and weaknesses of each of their squad’s members. The lack of discussion or proper introduction, proved to make that difficult.
As the group of four turned the corner and the High Olive came into view, the group was met with a large, four story building that honestly could have been confused for a small castle in and of itself. It had an exterior that was made up of a white stone brick, that could have been mistaken as newly built with how pristine and white they were colored, in comparison to the oxidized yellowish-brown from the years of wind decay from the surrounding buildings. From above the second floor, the brick transitioned into a dark oak, signs that the upper levels of the building were a far more recent addition to the High Olive’s infrastructure.
As they began to approach the entrance to the inn, a tall arch of double doors that were propped open by pins at each of the feet, there was a loud crash and yelling that the group could hear coming from somewhere within. Eldin raised an eye, already making a quick assumption of what or who the clamoring noise had risen from. Upon entering the high Olive, they were greeted by the same white brick walls they had seen outside now adorned with different banners and flags, crests of the different knights that sponsored such an establishment. Every few feet of the banners, a different face of some taxidermied horned beast, with the largest of the set being the mounted skull of Crystal Tunneler from crest of the neck to snout. Past the walls, the ceilings transitioned into the oak that made up the upper two floors; wood beams crossed over each other in a lattice, where barrels of mead lay hidden and stacked in the shadows, aging in their own time.
“She’s been here only ten minutes, already gone through two pitchers of our most expensive ale and says it was under your tab. I’d have questioned her further, thinkin’ maybe she just picked your name up off the streets. But she described you from your ugly mop of grey hair to the dusty crook in your nose perfectly, so I knew she was one of yours.” A hearty laugh from the man and Eldin knew he was teasing, but he still could not suppress himself from rolling his eyes at the man.
“She’ll be accompanying me for the journey. So will these three.” Eldin turned to the side, and pointed with his head towards the three that had walked to the inn with him. “The Neboosi is Polly, not to be mistaken with the toad on her head Jeremiah. This one is Iseult, and I’m sure you’ve met Fritz at least once before.” Eldin looked around towards the inn, knowing that Ayesha had been following Raisha. Being that she had yet to make as much of a ruckus as Raisha, he had yet to catch sight of her. “And another, I think she came in with the loud one, her name is Ayesha.”
“I think I saw her come in, but the one playing darts with the boys over there came in and we’ve been making sure she doesn't make a mess a’ things, I lost sight of her friend.”
“No matter, she’ll show up by tomorrow morning. Anyway, get the group whatever they want. They’re in for a long journey,” Eldin spoke solemnly, but his lips twisted into a wide grin before he continued, “I’ll make sure to pay everyone’s tab as soon as I come back as a knight.” Another laugh erupted from the barkeep before he started to fill three more mugs with a rich, golden colored beer. “And before I forget, each of them have rooms upstairs for the night, yes?
“Right. Just have them come here and pick up a set of keys from me before they head up for the night. You three have a roasted fowl on me for the night, your choice of potatoes or a buttered load on the side. I owe Eldin and Wallace a few favors,” he said with a nod in the squire’s direction. “And make sure to tell your friend too. She don’t listen to a word I say, unless its about free booze.”
“I assume that means you won’t be joining us for the festivities..?” Eldin questioned, already knowing the answer that he was going to be given.
Wallace waved his hand towards Eldin, as if attempting to shoo him away like a fly. “There comes a time when a cub must leave the pride and start his own. Go.” His arms were crossed over his chest like he was willing to give Eldin no other words, not even a secondary glance. “Besides. It would be a good time for me to visit some old friends. Only the company of his friends seem to ease his mind of the demons his eyes are riddled with, nowadays..”
Eldin gave his mentor another nod, “Then I will see you when we depart in the morning,” he said before facing towards the remaining three adventurers before him. He looked over at the three: Polly, Fritz, and Iseult. Seeing as how he had just about half of the party here at the moment, a change of plans was in order. He had intended to bring them into the barracks, to supply them with enough materials for the journey, as well as make sure that everybody was capable of using the bare minimum of survival gear. But without the entire party being present, it appears they will have to try and fit a visit into the barracks into their plans before they depart in the morning.. If he could manage to keep everyone in one place.
“I suppose we should join them at the inn, would be a good time to get to know each other,” Eldin said to the group, stepping down from the top of the barracks steps to stand besides them in the dirt. “Come along now, it won’t be more than a fifteen minute walk. The knights thought it would be a pain to have to walk any further, after a long day of fighting.” He didn’t decide to wait for the group to decide to follow, instead just leading the way past the gates from which they had entered from, assuming that they would have nowhere else to go aside from with him.
~~~~
The trek to the inn was, as Eldin had stated, no more than fifteen minutes. A walk that had primarily consisted of Eldin and Fritz leading the way through the city’s twists and turns, making their own assumptions and guesses about the party’s strengths, and what would be the best position for everyone to be in. It was an odd, on the fly, assessment of their strengths. They were both typically used to knowing the strengths and weaknesses of each of their squad’s members. The lack of discussion or proper introduction, proved to make that difficult.
As the group of four turned the corner and the High Olive came into view, the group was met with a large, four story building that honestly could have been confused for a small castle in and of itself. It had an exterior that was made up of a white stone brick, that could have been mistaken as newly built with how pristine and white they were colored, in comparison to the oxidized yellowish-brown from the years of wind decay from the surrounding buildings. From above the second floor, the brick transitioned into a dark oak, signs that the upper levels of the building were a far more recent addition to the High Olive’s infrastructure.
As they began to approach the entrance to the inn, a tall arch of double doors that were propped open by pins at each of the feet, there was a loud crash and yelling that the group could hear coming from somewhere within. Eldin raised an eye, already making a quick assumption of what or who the clamoring noise had risen from. Upon entering the high Olive, they were greeted by the same white brick walls they had seen outside now adorned with different banners and flags, crests of the different knights that sponsored such an establishment. Every few feet of the banners, a different face of some taxidermied horned beast, with the largest of the set being the mounted skull of Crystal Tunneler from crest of the neck to snout. Past the walls, the ceilings transitioned into the oak that made up the upper two floors; wood beams crossed over each other in a lattice, where barrels of mead lay hidden and stacked in the shadows, aging in their own time.
“Eldin!” The barkeep called, waving him forward towards the counter. A bushy brown heard covered the face of a hearty man that was as wide as Eldin was three times over. “Or Edward, or Erin. At least that’s what this strange dame that says she’s with you has called you.” The barkeep waved a hand towards the corner, where Raisha stood with a group of about four or five squires. She had a dart in her hand where she faced a dartboard about ten feet in front of her. Eldin could see at least two darts where the entire needle was embed into the wall, and it brought a smirk to his face. She was throwing too hard, and she was losing.
“She’s been here only ten minutes, already gone through two pitchers of our most expensive ale and says it was under your tab. I’d have questioned her further, thinkin’ maybe she just picked your name up off the streets. But she described you from your ugly mop of grey hair to the dusty crook in your nose perfectly, so I knew she was one of yours.” A hearty laugh from the man and Eldin knew he was teasing, but he still could not suppress himself from rolling his eyes at the man.
“She’ll be accompanying me for the journey. So will these three.” Eldin turned to the side, and pointed with his head towards the three that had walked to the inn with him. “The Neboosi is Polly, not to be mistaken with the toad on her head Jeremiah. This one is Iseult, and I’m sure you’ve met Fritz at least once before.” Eldin looked around towards the inn, knowing that Ayesha had been following Raisha. Being that she had yet to make as much of a ruckus as Raisha, he had yet to catch sight of her. “And another, I think she came in with the loud one, her name is Ayesha.”
“I think I saw her come in, but the one playing darts with the boys over there came in and we’ve been making sure she doesn't make a mess a’ things, I lost sight of her friend.”
“No matter, she’ll show up by tomorrow morning. Anyway, get the group whatever they want. They’re in for a long journey,” Eldin spoke solemnly, but his lips twisted into a wide grin before he continued, “I’ll make sure to pay everyone’s tab as soon as I come back as a knight.” Another laugh erupted from the barkeep before he started to fill three more mugs with a rich, golden colored beer. “And before I forget, each of them have rooms upstairs for the night, yes?
“Right. Just have them come here and pick up a set of keys from me before they head up for the night. You three have a roasted fowl on me for the night, your choice of potatoes or a buttered load on the side. I owe Eldin and Wallace a few favors,” he said with a nod in the squire’s direction. “And make sure to tell your friend too. She don’t listen to a word I say, unless its about free booze.”
The Justicar Quest
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Eldin Weistann - Justicar Squire
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
sheesh
it's all good
Jeanne Beaune Jacque is...
Bored."What’s a skeleton to do in this country...?”
A thin cactus spine skittered and bounced across the ground, disturbed and misplaced just to join a pile of other spines, pebbles and balls of hard dirt that had experienced the same thing. Jeanne sighed. If he were a century younger he wouldn’t have minded trying to walk through Ironheart himself. With a little bit of magic and a bit more of walking with his head down he might’ve been able to find something to occupy his time, something worth draining his mana for. However, a century of finding stuff to do wears on one's motivation, and Jeanne was starting to realize that. He couldn’t even begin to explain what brought him to sneak in and out of Ironheart to check in on that young woman in the first place.
He scratched his chin while he tried to remember her name. He'd kept a handful of the conversations they’d had on paper. Mainly the ones that had something worth remembering on it. He irresponsibly threw them in a satchel he typically reserved for runes, but in his defense, he didn’t have any other way of holding onto things at the moment. As he reached for his bag, however, it came to him. “Iseult!” He snapped
“Was I always so forgetful?” He asked himself aloud. He scratched the side of his head, less out of need to scratch an itch, more out of a habit put into practice when he became puzzled. “At least I remember before I saw her again. I’d feel terrible if I asked her to put it in writing for me once more.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, she’ll be having to write a lot of things down for people. Does she carry ink around...? Maybe I’ll stop by a market and…”
He stopped. He’d fallen into a habit of talking to himself whenever he was bored. At least he could keep himself company, if no one else. It was better than risking his life just to be around people. He felt lucky enough to even get a second chance to live even after all these years, even if his life was a little harder than the first. If he could find a way to live a third or fourth, he definitely would. Or at least, he thought he would; he couldn't speak for himself in the future if he was given a chance. There’s only so many things you can do at some point, and Jeanne had already accomplished a few things a few people hadn’t.
Who else could say they held even a brief conversation with a dragon?
He shuddered. The memory was painful even to this day. “Was I mad?” He asked himself yet another question, chuckling. After a long pause he decided he’d had enough conversation for a while, not wanting to answer his own question. As he lay on his back under a bright sun and on hard ground next to a cactus, he wondered: how did people live out here? In life he preferred the cooler weather and rains that usually fell in the Thallasy. He might’ve died a lot sooner in this kind of climate.
He sat up to find a kind of presumably flightless bird — one with long legs and a long beak — staring him down. Jeanne would’ve liked to think they were making eye contact, but he wasn’t sure his avian company even had a concept of that. “I apologize, but I am not dead, nor is there any meat on these bones for you. I’m little more than a waste of your time, you see.” He explained, assuming the bird was a scavenger. He then put a hand on his face, shaking his head and looking away. “I go from talking to myself to talking to a bird, I need to find something to do...”
“Something to do!”
He looked back at the bird, who’d unfolded his wings as if flexing its wingspan. Jeanne leaned forward. “Was that you?” He asked. The bird pecked at the ground and tucked its wings in as a reply. Jeanne grunted. ’When have birds ever spok-’
“Something to do!”
Jeanne had actually seen the bird’s beak move this time. The bird turned its beak to the sky and cawed three times in quick succession, as if laughing at its own cleverness; it’d certainly fooled Jeanne, even if only once. If this was his company, then so be it. It beat being by himself, certainly, even if the bird could only repeat parts of his own sentences; it was only a bit of improvement from talking to himself but an improvement nonetheless.
In a burst of agility and quick steps that Jeanne had a hard time tracking, the bird positioned itself on a nearby stone. “Something to do!” It repeated again. “You’ve said that more times than I have now. Could you be bored as well?” He asked, leaning back on the cactus and folding his arms behind his head. They sat in silence for a minute. Somewhere during that minute, Jeanne considered that poking his clothes full of holes may not be a good idea. He looked down at the spines he had already picked off and decided the holes would be too small to even see. Jeanne decided to break the silence himself. He looked up to see if the bird was even still there, as it'd said nothing. “I’ll take that as a ye-”
“CAW! Something to do!”
“I’ll take that as a-”
“Something to do!”
“I’ll-”
“Something to do!”
Jeanne stood up out of frustration and put his hands on his hips. “If I were capable of facial expressions I wouldn’t let you know otherwise, but consider me staring very disapprovingly at you.” He said, pointing a finger at the bird, who flapped its wings and again recited its three-caw laugh. Jeanne scoffed. “My word! You didn’t even know Common before you got here and you have the nerve to laugh at as to demean me? Have you no manners? Shameful! You learn three words and suddenly you don’t know how to act anymore. What would your mother say?”
“Something to do! CAW!”
“Ugh!” Jeanne turned away and crossed his arms. “Children these days…” He muttered. “Wait...it’s not a child, Jeanne. Use your head.” He went to pinch the bridge of his nose, and was reminded he had no nose. “If I had a brain I’d say it’s turning to mush. Is there nothing-” He lowered his voice, as to avoid inciting the bird’s wrath. “Is there nothing to stimulate my mind around these parts?” Jeanne turned to see if the bird heard him, and was relieved to see it was just preening its feathers.
His relief was cut short by the bird suddenly taking off running. “Oh, no you don’t! Where are you getting off too? If we’re to be bored, at least we should be bored together! Come back here!” Jeanne shouted after the bird. It’d been a while since he took a run anywhere. Maybe a bit of light exercise was what he needed, though light may be subjective, especially when it came to a tireless being. Jeanne wasn’t even considering how far he would run, or how fast he would need to go to keep pace. He pulled his hood over his head and covered his face. Last thing he needed was someone reporting a skeleton running along outside Ironheart.
But then again, who the hell would be outside?
A Shady Patron.
Runes prepared:
Minor Moonless Night (Mod) x2 (-1)
Minor Shadowstep (Mod) x2
Dark Pact (Mod) x1 (-1)
Summon Dream Geists (Mod) x1
Remaining Mana: 10 (-4)
“My full name is Jeanne Beaune Jacque. I am…roughly one hundred and seventy years of age — it’s hard to keep count these days. My mother called me Beaunsey. Wonder how she’s doing these days. I’ve read countless pages of published notes on various subjects: language, ancient literature, magic, monsters, gods, limited studies on eldritch creatures, beings and events that only exist in theory, studies about the public climate of cities both promising and already well established, and there’s probably more. I can’t say I recall all of the information, especially not after nearly two centuries without a refresher, but what I’m trying to say is that I’m not dull — I never have been. There’s a difference between not thinking and making blunder trying to do something stupid, and purposefully using your wit to do something stupid while fully knowing consequences if you fail. I generally tend to be the latter...I think. I’m not sure anymore; in hindsight I might not have been as smart as I thought I was.”Minor Moonless Night (Mod) x2 (-1)
Minor Shadowstep (Mod) x2
Dark Pact (Mod) x1 (-1)
Summon Dream Geists (Mod) x1
Remaining Mana: 10 (-4)
“Now that I think about it, my hindsight is a lot better than my normal vision. But even with this flawed figurative vision, I’m beginning to think I’m not as smart as I thought I was — especially not as smart as I thought I was just a few hours ago. Maybe a hundred years is what I needed to finally wisen up. I’d never even consider speaking to a dragon now. Hell, I’m not even sure if they still exist in this day and age! But not talking to a dragon is the bare minimum of not even just being called intelligence, but being labelled as having some sense. Some other examples of having sense may include a Deimforged thinking it a bad idea to enter a Justicar city under any circumstance short of Deim or some other powerful being either reforming or outright destroying them. With that being said, as much knowledge as I may have had stored in my mind, I had very little sense.”
“But, back to my statement about taking a century to wisen up. I rescind that. Wisening up would mean not running off in a random direction and not keeping track of how far you’ve gone. I clearly haven’t gained any wisdom. If anyone knows the answer to this, please tell me — and excuse my tone and tongue, — but, where the fuck am I?”
The sun was setting while Jeanne monologued, realizing the fact that Ironheart wasn’t even in sight anymore. At some point he’d fallen too far behind the running bird and lost track of it. He’d made a little game out of using its footprints as a means to find it again. His goal was simply to sneak up on it and grab it just to see if he could. At first, he couldn’t even get within twenty feet of it before it took off, but after hours of trial and error…
He still wasn’t able to catch it. However, he did get pretty close a few times. Roughly twenty minutes ago was the last time he was able to find it. He suspected that it was gone for good this time, and so he decided to find something else to do. That was when he discovered he was nowhere near Ironheart. He wanted to say he’d been in worse situations, and he had. However, what he had to do to get out of them was very far off from wayfinding.
Jeanne walked around for a few hours, aimlessly. It was a safe jog this far out, but as it was getting darker, he was starting to think it may not be as easy getting back. “I just had to chase that bird, eh?” He managed to walk up a steep rock formation to get some high ground, though it wasn’t to scout. It was more to just take a second to sit. He sat himself on the edge and rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped up on his knee.
“I...don’t think I know any spells that would help me. I’m not sure what the effective range of Dark Pact is, else I’d send them out as scouts...Can they even talk?”
“Maybe if I just go back to where I was and...actually I don’t even know which way is backwards.”
“Maybe if I-”
“If I can cast…”
His mind began to work furiously. Clearly magic wasn’t the answer this time around, which Jeanne took as a mark that he needed to study more. Perhaps a trip to the Magocracy was in order. Hopefully whatever rewards he earned from this quest was enough to pay for the study of a school of magic or two. If not, there was still more opportunity to learn magic in the Magocracy. He'd manage somehow, even without the money.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice. “Ho there, traveler!” Someone shouted up to him. He looked down from his high up seat to see first a large cart, presumably with wares. If his face was showing — no, rather, if he had facial expressions, they would’ve had the chance to betray him. He was definitely grinning, but not for the reasons most would expect. Sure, he was going to ask for directions, however, he was definitely going to lighten their cart for them if they didn’t mind.
Of course they would mind Jeanne’s methods though. He had no money. While he wasn’t a fan of killing, dealing people lesser misfortunes was well within what he considered fair. “We’ve sold many things to many travelers, you can join the group if you have coin! We’ve got plenty of wares to share, loot that fits your suit, and uh…ahem”
“We’re still working on that!” Another called up. The only remotely good part about that was that “wares to share” line in Jeanne's opinion. The rest certainly needed work, but at least they were trying. “Just a moment!” Jeanne called back, and threw his legs back onto solid ground and stood to back away from the edge, out of sight. He reached into his bag used to store his runes. While doing so, he mumbled the incantation for the Conceal spell. “Whatever I draw is what I use. Let’s have some fun.”
His “grinning” continued as he looked at three card shaped papers that he’d taken from his bag. Spread out in his hand was a Moonless Night rune, a Dark Pact rune, and a Dream Geist rune. Either he was lucky, or Deim smiled at his creations and it just happened to be Jeanne’s turn to see what his favor could do. His mind began to work towards a plan. He could simply cast Moonless Night on the whole cart, summon his six partners in crime and then run. However, Jeanne could feel that he’d roughly used around half of his reserves in just maintaining runes, if not more; if he could save some mana, he would.
If he used all of them now, sure, he would be able to recover that mana by tomorrow morning, but he didn’t have anything to recreate the rune with. Not until he found something to write with, at least. He considered he didn’t need six extra pairs of hands. After the spell failed, he’d have 6 hands worth of items to carry, and they’d be extremely annoying. He decided to put the Dream Geists rune back in his bag and settled for Moonless Night and Dark Pact. He never said he couldn't put something back.
He didn’t have an idea of what wares there were to be shared. He couldn’t have his Dark Pact summons just grabbing whatever they thought were useful. He needed things that were useful. Forgoing another small piece of his mana, he began the incantation for the Minor Shade spell. Black smog began to gather in front of Jeanne as the incantation neared its completion until it solidified into a familiar creature; that running and painfully annoying bird from earlier, except this time it was back in black. Jeanne whispered: “I found something to do...Caw, I guess.
Jeanne blinked, and suddenly his point of view swapped with his shade. He took a moment to look at himself. ’…You know, if I were a Justicar and a skeleton looked this much better than me, I’d be mad too. If looking good is a crime, then I should be put to death!’ He laughed internally before his shade took off. He certainly would’ve preferred a flying bird over a running bird, but anything would work.
The shade’s thin legs were practically a blur, carrying its body to one of the flanks of the cart, opposite of the side Jeanne was on. ’I spot…food…a few weapons, neat…Seems like a few survival essentials; a flint rock and a piece of iron to strike it against, some rope, some travel bag. I could certainly make use of that armor, since it’s certainly lighter than what I have’
“Do you think he’s ever gonna come down?”
“I wouldn’t know. Maybe you should ask him? I think we should just leave. Ironheart isn’t much further this way, last I checked the map.”
“Give it here. Last time I had you check the map, we wound up three days late.”
They were starting to get antsy. Jeanne had made up his mind. The food, the travel bag, and the flint. Three items, three summons. The math worked out. “Thank you.” Jeanne said quietly, as his shade disappeared. He liked to think they were real creatures rather than magic constructs. Hopefully whoever decided to grab the food grabbed as much as their arms could carry.
He wouldn’t be able to fool both at once, most likely. One would handle the transaction and the other would unload whatever was bought. From what it sounded like, one of the two were unreliable. Another thing he neglected to take note of were another three in their company who were armed and hadn’t said or done much besides pick their noses, cough and sniffle. If things went left, he’d be dealing with those three. Maybe if he had more mana three adventurers wouldn’t be too big of a load for him to handle, but at this point he was scraping the bottom of his reserves.
He checked his hood and mask to make sure they were still covering his head as best they could, and then scrambled down to the cart. The runes were kept in his hand, though the side with the runes drawn on it was facing away from the cart. “I apologize for the delay. My vision isn’t quite what it used to be, and I had a hard time locating my coin purse. I used to have the mind to inform you that I’d be a while, but I’m afraid I’m not very well socialized these days, no. ” Jeanne explained, looking at his feet. “It’s quite fine,” one replied while approaching him, though Jeanne couldn’t tell which one, “we’ve got all the patience in the world for a potential patron.”
“Patron is a rather...strong word.”
“Er...Yes, I suppo-”
“See, patron implies I’d be giving you fiscal support...what I’m about to do is far from support.”
Jeanne looked up, exposing his skeletal face; the lack of nose, the hollow eye sockets. Watching the reaction of the beholders was something that didn’t get old to Jeanne. Most people already didn’t enjoy the sight of Deimforged, but in Justicar country it was especially unexpected to see one. Between discerning the subtle implication of his statement and the shock of seeing his face, it gave Jeanne a brief opening to use his runes.
He held the two of them in between his index and middle finger, and slowly the runes drawn on the cards faded away as Jeanne activated them. He purposely delayed blinding the cart just to allow them to see the three shadow creatures that were seemingly birthed from Jeanne’s waning shadow in the setting sun. The moment Jeanne heard swords being drawn from their scabbards, the second rune went into effect and the adventurers were robbed of their vision.
The three adventurers’ scrambled in surprise at how quickly their peaceful night had shifted. The two with a free hand, one who wielded a longsword and the other a single handaxe, gingerly placed a hand on the cart for guidance in their sudden blindness. The last adventurer withdrew behind the face of a buckler shield, with a short dagger clutched between the disk and her chest.
As if the situation had been rehearsed prior, the former two adventurers used their awareness of the trading cart’s position to stumble forward towards its front, where the snivelling whimpers of the frightened merchants had managed to huddled together with a single four inch dagger drawn between the two. The final adventurer placed herself, far from firmly, at the rear in an attempt to keep whoever their assailant was from their cargo.
The adventurer wielding the sword placed himself forward of the group, both arms clutching tightly at the weapon he held outstretched in front of him. The weapon wavered in the air, moving back and forth, left and right, like he was using the tool as an extension to pat down what was in front of him. “R-... Reveal yourself!” he called out in a shaky tone. He couldn’t have been much older than eighteen.
“It’s D-d-d…Deim!” one of the merchants shouted out, while quivering ever further below until he was practically wedged between the wheels of the cart. “It tried to suck my soul through its hollow eyes!!”
Jeanne paced. Being called Deim himself was a new one. Maybe he might use that against fools who wouldn’t know any better. Hopefully the God-eternal was too busy maintaining the balance between life and death to know Jeanne was posing. He almost wanted to laugh, but that would give away his position. If the cart was horse drawn, he might’ve stolen the entire thing. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the muscle to push it all by himself, nor the prowess to summon his own horses. A trip to the magocracy was definitely in order.
Jeanne nodded. “No killing.” He whispered, and his shades took action. Two took each flank, and one positioned itself at the back. The one at the rear positioned itself far enough to be out of reach of the adventurer's dagger. It may have been a smarter move for everyone to move to the back, and as Jeanne studied the group, it became more and more apparent they weren’t very experienced. He almost felt bad, in fact, he planned on taking less than originally intended now.
He partially wished his shades could be silent in everything they did. He cringed when the two positioned at the flanks began to make the cart rattle and shake as they scaled the sides, doing their best to use the wheels to clamber on top. The third wouldn’t have it as easy. Since no one could see, they’d likely strike at the slightest odd sound if they could. Jeanne waited, but the third took no action.
Jeanne moved to the rear to see what the issue was. He stood a few feet away from the third shade, and they made eye contact. Jeanne tilted his head forward expectantly, wanting an explanation for the delay. In reply, the shade merely shrugged. Jeanne took a beat to understand what it was saying, and it became apparent that his shades weren’t exactly the brightest. As far as he understood it, one adventurer being in the way completely stopped its approach.
’Well, when I summoned shades, I didn’t expect them to be bright — they ARE shades — but, at the same time, I didn’t think they’d lack two types of brightness.’
While his attention had been temporarily stolen from the cart, he didn’t realize that the two that were already far more successful than the third had taken a pair of travel bags and loaded them both with as much as they could fit inside. One was able to leap right off and make a break for it, while the other, when it tried to jump off, realized the adventurer at the front had been able to make it to the cart’s side after hearing all the noise.
“I can hear you! F-...Face me, you coward!”
The solution was easy, however: just jump off a different side. However, Jeanne was suddenly stricken by greed, and he motioned for the shade to hold its position. He himself wouldn’t need it, but it was likely the weapons of these adventurers could be taken to an appraiser for money. On one hand, he could leave them completely defenseless, but on the other he could have a chance to make a bit more money, granted everything he steals here makes it through his journey.
’Why take the risk for something that’s not guaranteed to weather the journey? I wouldn’t leave these dimwi- er, children, to fend for themselves with nothing but their hands based on a chance. There’s plenty of other weapons on the cart already.’
He looked at the third shade. It was still standing around, literally twiddling its thumbs. “Oh, so you’re a special kind of daft, yes?” He whispered sharply. ”Get on the cart from one of the sides." The shade made it so. There were, unfortunately, no more bags to use to steal, so it just resorted to taking an armful. Jeanne would have to count out his “earnings” later.
Before he left, though, there was something he needed to address. He backed up, and projected his voice deeply and loudly, to sound authoritative.
“To the one who uh…bravely requested that I reveal myself: unfortunately, I can’t quite do that! However, to challenge Deim himself while hard of sight requires commendable bravery. As a token of my…acknowledgement, I’ve decided to take only a portion of your goods as tribute! Give thanks — I am not a wrathful god.”
He began to employ the silent stepping technique he used earlier, in the game that led him this far out in the first place until he could safely start running in the direction their cart was being pushed. “It’s like taking a toy from a child...funnily enough, one was busy sniveling about nearly losing his soul. I did that plenty of times as a child! Ah...memories.”
“Heheh, it’s D-d-d-Deim!” He repeated, mockingly.
The entire running-without-getting-tired thing was proving more and more useful. This might’ve been something he was already aware of and then forgot about it. When you live for a certain amount of time you tend to forget a lot. However, he made a note not to forget, or at least try harder not to.
Jeanne covered a lot of ground. He kept running until his spell failed and everything he’d stolen fell on the ground. It was time to take inventory. Hopefully nothing was damaged by suddenly being dropped in motion. He opened the first bag and began to sort. The first bag he opened had nothing but food. A measure of jerky, to be specific. He couldn’t use it, obviously, but in case of an emergency he might be able to lend it out. There was a water skin included as well.
He moved on to the second bag. It was more of a mix between utility and arms. The first thing he pulled out appeared to just be a slab of hide, but after inspecting it closer it appeared he was holding a cuirass. Perhaps it was finally time to retire the rusted, hollow hunk of metal he always kept on. “I sure hope this fits, I don’t exactly fill out attire very well these days.”
He set it aside. He also found a length of rope — around 20 meters — and an extra dagger. All likely useful. He could probably put the jerky and the waterskin into this bag for convenience. He slid the extra dagger into his boot, turning his odd duo into an odd trio. As for the rope, he could easily loop the rope around one of the shoulder straps of the bag, and he did. He took the time to lose his original armor to break in the new piece cuirass. At this point his old armor was probably brittle enough to shatter, and he wouldn’t get anymore than a handful of coppers for it. Not worth carrying.
The chances of him even needing the money were slim, but part of him still wished he would’ve stolen some weapons from that cart for selling purposes. He wasn’t exactly sure what the rewards were for his future endeavor, but most would agree that money was a reward anyone would want. Still, everything helped. He wasn’t sure what he needed it for yet aside from a few new spellbooks, but he was certain something would come up; he hoped so, at least. He was starting to get bored. Jeanne had just enough time to finish tightening his armor to fit his body as best he could before he sighed. “Almost...one hundred and seventy, and a lot of life left in me, hopefully. I’ll find something to do at some point...”
“Not even sure what I'm still doing here in the first place...”
He grumbled, froze, and then shook his head. “Pfft, no idea where that came from.” He mumbled. There were other things to think about, though. He had a lot of ground to cover, and not a lot of light left. It was time to start heading back. The longer he was this far out, the more chance there was of crossing something that was in a bad mood. This time he’d kept track of what direction he needed to walk in to make it back to Ironheart. If only he knew how far off it was…
Runes prepared:
Minor Moonless Night (Mod) x1
Minor Shadowstep (Mod) x2
Summon Dream Geists (Mod) x1
Remaining Mana: 6 (-1)
Minor Moonless Night (Mod) x1
Minor Shadowstep (Mod) x2
Summon Dream Geists (Mod) x1
Remaining Mana: 6 (-1)
Jeanne covered plenty of ground. By the time he could see Ironheart once again, it was dark out. He didn’t expect it to still be bright out though, considering how far out he was. He was just glad his walk so far had been incident free. He thought back on the talking bird that accompanied hours ago and smirked. He’d definitely found something to do and he hoped that his feathery friend did as well.
He’d completely numbed his mind to most stimulus for the majority of the journey. There’s only so much you can think about until all you can really think about is which foot to put in front of the other. He was in such an aloof state that he almost walked by a new opportunity all together. A fire burned not too far ahead of him, and he could make out a figure sitting by it. He didn’t need to rest his feet, but he also wouldn’t mind taking a break. His walk was lacking excitement.
As he got closer, he saw that something was cooking over the fire while a bird adjacent to another figure, one that seemed like a man, was also picking at something. Jeanne wasn’t particularly a good judge of character, but just from the equipment he could tell that he wasn’t anything like the fodder he dealt with earlier. He’d recovered a bit of his mana, but hardly enough to do anything, and he was already carrying enough. There’d be no more robberies this evening.
There’d especially be no accusations of being Deim this time around, unfortunately. Before he was close enough to be heard, he casually recited the incantation for the Minor Morph spell, changing his face into the exact same one he’d use to visit Iseult. He cleared his throat and hoped his disguise couldn’t be seen through. He’d like to keep a bit of his mana.
“I smelled what was over the fire! I spotted Aspera herself a stone throw away coming to figure out what was cooking.” He joked as he came within conversation distance. He began to take his bag off of his back. “Do you mind if I rest my feet here, friend?” He asked.
“Ah, an adventurer!” The stranger exclaimed, looking up from the whittling of some narrow scraps of a fallen log, seemingly to be made into arrows. “Come and sit, plenty of room for the weary.”
The stranger pulled back on an ivory colored hood atop his head, revealing blonde locks caressing a set of pointed ears. An elf. With a face equally as untarnished and brilliant in the moonlight as rumors and legends revere. He was draped in a roguish, dark garb that glistened the embers like obsidian but appeared as loose as straw; a material that was indiscernible without attempting to get a much closer look. At his boots were a set of blades, with only the hilts exposed and their length a mystery.
“Greetings, Va’alune,” He began by introducing himself, then pointed the dagger in his hands in the direction of the large bird, a hawk with a rotating pattern of chestnut and bronze colored feathers adorning its wings. In its talons it clutched a large rabbit, roughly the size of Jeanne’s skull by itself, and the remnants of its last morsel dripping from its beak. “And that glutton is Horus, my traveling companion and friend.”
Va’alune set down another shaft of an arrow into the neat looking pile beside him, which numbered near thirty, at a glance. They were barren of arrowheads and fletchings, but the feathers of a set of completed arrows poked their head behind the log on which the elf had himself seated. “Help yourself to some rabbit stew,” he pointed, “There is a mix of cabbage and carrots in there. The rabbit is few and far between. Horus decided to give me the smallest of his catches, but satisfactory, it still is.”
Jeanne took a seat. He’d heard a few mentions of elves travelling with animals over the years, and with how long he’d been around, it was quite funny to him how he’d yet to meet one himself. He had a few questions pertaining to that, but he assumed it’d be rude to start asking questions without giving his name first. “Jeanne.” He replied, setting his bag down.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to eat. His face was just an illusion. He was sure if he tried to eat, Va’alune would hear the stew splashing as it literally passed right through him. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned how good the stew smelled. He hoped if he didn’t mention it again that the elf wouldn’t push. “What brings you out to these cracked plains? You look fit enough to duel a Justicar! Are you on your way to join their order, perhaps?”
The elf chuckled in response to Jeanne’s compliments, scratching at the back of his head with the end of the arrows in his hands. “You humor me, Jeanne. At least cross swords with me a single time before comparing me to the likes of those beasts.” In the time it took for the skeleton to grab a seat, another arrow was set onto the pile. “Actually, I have a niece who squired in the order, and she was set to have her ceremony to knighthood within the next fortnight.” A somber look crossed over his face, and the piece of wood between his fingers crackled before splintering in two.
“It's rude among my people not to at least eat a bite of food when offered.” Va’alune quickly changed the subject, looking Jeanne up and down once over before his eyes widening as if the glance had brought him sudden enlightenment. “Ah, I see.. You can’t eat..” Even the crickets decided to silence between the two, like those ominous words uttered from the elf’s lips knew that some sort of revelation was to be made.
Jeanne held his breath.
“You don’t have a bowl,” The elf continued, rummaging in a sack at his feet before pulling out both a hand-carved wooden dish, and half a slice of grainy-oat filled bread. “The taste of the loaf is quite bitter, but masked by the stew. It's a local craft, meant to be quite filling on long journeys.”
If Jeanne had a heart, he would’ve had a heart attack, and if he could sweat, he’d be sweating enough to put out the fire he sat at. He didn’t want to sit at another man’s fire and be rude to him simultaneously. An idea struck him while he was being passed the bowl and bread. The stew itself would splash on the ground if he tried to eat it normally, and that was where his apprehensions lay. He imagined any excuse he could come up with would be nothing short of excusing himself on account of soiling his pants suddenly.
He filled his bowl with some of the stew, taking the bread in one hand and the bowl in the other. He may not have enough bread to completely finish the bowl, but he’d opt to soak the bread in the broth, and then eat the soggy portion. As it fell through him, it’d be near noiseless or easy to assume it was just the sound of him swallowing when it was really just wet bread falling inside of his clothes.
He stared at the fire for a few beats before deciding to speak again. “I assume you’re headed to Ironheart as well? I’m on my way, hoping to reach there before the sun rises. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling, starting in the Thallasy, near north of here. I’m sure you’re familiar.” As he was making the lies up as he went, he now wished he had sat in silence. At least then he wouldn’t have had to come up with a justification. “I’m coming from the Magocracy,” he started again, “and I’ve come to find that magic instruction is pretty expensive. My own knowledge is limited, but I thought I might teach magic to those willing to learn for no charge.”
He took another “bite” of soggy bread. In hindsight, given his reaction to his niece’s knighthood ceremony, maybe it would’ve been better to stray away from Ironheart, or anything to do with the Justicars at all. Ironically, his reaction did pique his interest. He wondered if he even needed to cast a disguise at all.
“Ah, the Magocracy,” Va’alune’s eyes widened, finding something the two had in common. “I spent roughly a decade within the nation’s High Library. I was actually plucked from the Expanse as a young child by some slavers before finding my way there.” The shattered failure of an arrow shaft was tossed into the flames, and they roared to life as they consumed more fuel being offered to them.
The elf picked up his own bowl at his side, a bowl that had since gone cold; leaving it parted from the flames sapped all remnants of the warmth imbued upon it, and it was something Va’alune looked upon with a curled lip of disgust. He poked around with his knife before skewering a piece of rabbit thigh, a flick of the wrist sending it flying in Horus’s direction until it was snatched in midair within his beak.
“No I uh..” Va’alune hesitated before he continued speaking, his eyes gazing up towards the starless night before gracing Jeanne with an answer. “I’m more here to pay my respects. See my niece-..” A heavy sigh crept away from the elf, “She was lost within the Skirk Province. A rock slide had displaced the Knighthood and the goblins’ route within the tunnels, and the party in which she had departed with had to find another way across. The knights gave me little more detail other than they took one wrong turn too many, and their route led them far too close to the Drannid hives to be fully recoverable.” Another shattered arrow shaft, and the elf snapped from his thoughts before realizing what he had done.
“Apologies. Perhaps I shared too much.” He quickly detracted, looking towards his guest finally deciding to eat, and looking slightly more uplifted. “What is it you said you were teaching? And the stew, Horus just flutters with ecstasy whenever the chef gets his paid respects.”
Jeanne missed a beat on responding, which made him cringe in his head. He was almost glad that the subject was switched quickly, because he had no words to give any comfort. He wished he had, but it seemed like Va’alune needed none from a stranger. “Ah, magic, it is.” He placed the bowl at his side. “As I said, paying for instruction isn’t affordable for most people. I say it’s for good reason. Anyone with a few silvers shouldn’t have access to the ability to create a pillar of flames or liken themselves to the pace of a lightning strike. However, most lower class spells could improve people’s lives just from the utility they offer.”
“I mentioned that my own knowledge is limited. I used to know far more spells, once upon a time. But, unfortunately things escape my mind easily — always have. But! The things I do know I readily share with anyone with the want and ability to learn. I’d show you, but I’ve had an altercation before I made my way to your fire; I’m a bit low on my mana.”
“Every now and then I like to make a trip back to the Magocracy with any money I make to learn a bit more to teach to other people. If you’re up for it, I could teach you a few runes, maybe?” The offer was born of a genuine belief: life for most could be improved if everyone had better access to magic to an extent. “I know nothing you wouldn’t be able to pick up...unless, you happen to be a caster yourself?”
Va’alune nodded in agreement with Jeanne’s explanation of the utility in magic, and began stroking his chin in thought with his forefinger and thumb until the skeleton pointed the conversation in his direction with a question. His eyes widened, and he appeared to rummage through his own mind in consideration for what it was he could show a stranger.
“As a researcher, my studies first had me learning School of Insight. It makes sense, does it not?” He asked Jeanne, asking for reassurance towards his logic before continuing to explain, “Learning the runes and enchantments set upon ancient artifacts, of course I would like to be the one to be able to discern them. I’ve really only managed to reach Class Five spells, and that seems to be the most my body readily allows me to do before its capabilities sizzle and fade.”
Another arrow shaft into the pile, by now they numbered near the fifties; they hardly looked like they would even fit in the quiver of arrows, barring the ones he already had inside. “So of course, as a scholar, I expanded my knowledge to learn other schools. Insight provided me little, and I figured I had better use of my mana elsewhere when I’ve also been able to learn how to discern enchantments in other ways.” His eyes flickered towards Jeanne, and he focused on the skeleton for a moment before looking back on the next whittled branch. “School of Gales, but only at the third level. It's enough to keep me alive, not necessary in keeping me alive when Horus guides my arrows.” The hawk raised his wings at the mention of his name, and a single flap of its wings were enough for it to soar into the darkness of the night. In a moment, the sudden wingflap of the large bird was heard from somewhere behind the skeleton.
“But I doubt it would keep a deimforged alive in a city of Justicars.”
"By Deim..." Jeanne sighed, putting a hand on his face, and in a similar motion to taking off a mask, dispelled his illusion. “You’d be surprised...I know I sure was.” He admitted. He smirked. “I was fearing that my ruse had reached its limit the moment you’d mentioned where most of your casting knowledge lies.” He removed his hood. There wasn’t much that could hide him at this point.
He leaned forward, closer to the fire with his elbows on his knees and his arms crossing at the wrists. He stared into the fire for a moment. “Make no mistake, most of what I said was true. Though, if you’re linked to a Justicar somehow I imagine it may not matter what I have to say at this point.” He briefly thought back to Va’alunes mention of crossing blades and smirked again, and then thinking even further back to calling the young mages nowadays lazy for not casting their own spells to see through illusions, he chuckled.
“Er. Wait.”
He sat up, feigning leaning back too fast and placing a hand behind him to brace himself, putting his hand a bit closer to the bag on his belt. “I imagine if you were going to kill me, things would’ve been over by now, Va’alune. What’s your game?” He didn’t like being at the mercy of another being, or at least being aware of it.
Va’alune shrugged his shoulders, reaching forward to poke at the stew with the stick in hand, stirring its contents in the slightest. “As I’ve explained, I’m a scholar. I care not for the Justicars’ hatred of your kind. I despise it, actually.” He exposed another haunch of the rabbit in the stew, and tried to hook it onto the end of the stick in his hand. “The closest we have to conceiving attention from the gods is the Deimforged, even beyond the Nebosi and their prayers. At least in my personal opinion.”
Successfully snatching the rabbit, another flick in the air and the piece of flesh was in the air, to which Horus veered no more than four inches from Jeanne’s shoulder, the tips of his wings just brushing against where the skeleton’s ear would be had he had one, to snatch it from the sky before disappearing into the night again.
“I implied I would like you to visit my home in Magocracy. I too, wasn’t lying. Oops-..” He said when the stick in his hand dropped into the soup. The small embers of the licking flames reddened his pinky finger, and he shook his hand to cool the pain to reveal two used runes upon his wrist. “You think I would have seen that coming..” The elf chuckled and winked in Jeanne’s direction.
“I hope you don’t mind a more earthy taste to the stew. I’d stripped it of its bark by now, but I suppose letting it dry would have made for less of a dramatic taste change.”
The skeleton’s hands returned to his lap, being much more at ease now. “Pretend I look relieved.” Jeanne stood, causing the bread that had settled in the seat of his pants to fall down his leg. He tugged at the fabric at the end of his pants so that it wouldn’t fall into his shoes. “And I assure you, I don’t mind. It’s more than just my face that doesn’t have flesh on it.” He grabbed his bag by one of the straps, fixing to leave.
“I think it’s curious that you think the deimforged are...uh, you said the closest we have to conceiving attention from the gods? I’d like to ask you to elaborate on that more in the future. I want to warn you though: I had plans to return to the Magocracy, however, I may not make it there. I assume I can be transparent about this now because I half don’t expect you to believe me, but…”
He put his arms through one of the straps. “I happen to be traveling with a squire at dawn, or around that time. I believe he’s on his way to becoming a knight, or something like that. It’s a long story, how I came to be involved in this. I’d like to tell you some time, if I get the chance.” He recalled Va’alune had mentioned a rockslide when speaking about his late niece earlier. He tilted his head.
“I hate to ask painful questions, but when the Justicars said your niece wasn’t fully recoverable, did that mean they were certain she had died?” He looked at the hawk. If it was possible, he’d like to look for her, even though he was near certain that even if she was alive he wouldn’t have much of an opportunity to break from the group he was traveling with to search as an individual.
“They found nothing but her sword,” Va’alune explained, a sigh followed his words and he went back to learning back on the trunk he was seated on. Even Horus seemed to sense the eased tension between the two, and perched himself beside the elf. “Any word you have of her would be of great relief to her parents, my brother and his wife. And to myself of course. I’d taught the little girl everything I know.” He broke away from his own words before he knew the rambling would begin.
“This would be the third landslide during the trials just this year alone,” Va’alune continued to inform, now hoping that this wandering skeleton was going to give some semblance of hope to get more information, despite the Justicars being certain of their decision. “So take heed, I’m surprised no further investigations had been launched by them already. But perhaps those knights are just far too engrossed in weeding out their weak that it just seemed like an unfortunate circumstance. Them and their big-headed ego in their cult, I suppose.”
“Come back to the Magocracy. Food and wine will definitely be at my table for you, friend. Perhaps a look in my library if such a request isn’t above you,” Va’alune attempted a smirk before offering a hand towards the skeleton. “I imagine books regaling of the adventures of past heroes are nothing compared to the legends of a deimforged surviving a night within the walls of Ironheart.”
In his outstretched hand was the dagger he used to whittle the arrows, glistening in the embers of the flames below it revealed it was finely crafted, with a single gemstone embed at the center of its hilt. “I’ve yet to discern what it is that blade holds, but I’m hoping it being in the hands of another mage may just be what it needs. Bring it back to me once you’ve figured it out, perhaps you and I can share a formal toast to a new discovery.”
Jeanne grabbed the dagger gingerly, inspecting it. He had no skill in detecting magic as it was, but he knew he was in for learning something new in the near future. He nodded, before bending at the knee to store his new, fourth dagger in his boot. He stood again. “I’ll do what I can for this dagger...and I’ll do what I can to see what it is I can find concerning your niece, I will.” He put his arm through the other shoulder strap.
“If I’m fortunate, I’ll look you up in the Magocracy. Next you hear from me I’ll be fresh out of this country.” He pulled his hood over his head again. “Until then. Va’alune,” he paused, “Horus. Be safe, and take care.” He began to walk off before he stopped again. “Oh! I’d almost forgotten — thank you for the food. It was delicious.” He joked, and continued walking on.
“I haven’t been frightened quite like that in some time. For a moment, I swear I could feel a heartbe-”
Jeanne stopped mid stride as he recollected the events that happened in the sanatorium while looking for Iseult. That kind of panic, the terror he felt, the lack of faith he had in himself — it was unprecedented for him. Back then, similar to now, he could’ve swore he felt a heartbeat. For a moment, he questioned if he should even partake in the upcoming Knighthood venture. Was it really worth it? Just earlier that day, he had trouble remembering her name. He didn’t owe it to her.
“I have to go. What’s the point in confirming her wellbeing if I’m not going to make sure she stays well?” He slapped his fist into the palm of his hand. There was something special about her. To Jeanne, it seemed like divine intervention itself to be saved from those ruins just when she was beginning to knock on Deim’s door. Jeanne had been in similar situations, but he considered himself very lucky; there were no gods looking after him. After over two centuries of experience, he was sure of that. If he was destined for something great, he’d have been great by now.
Iseult, on the other hand, was very young. There was plenty of time for her to shake the realm with something fantastic.
Iseult was a little off track. Jeanne’s day was eventful, fortunately. He’d gotten something out of his wandering without totally being in danger. He’d gotten some things that might make tomorrow go a bit smoothly as well. Speaking of, Jeanne intended to do some more preparation beforehand. It was time to make sure he could get the most out of the next few hours of rest.
To start, he used up all of his runes so that he could return to a full reserve of mana by the time it was time to meet with his group. He’d make a fresh set when that time came as well. He mostly did this so he had as much mana to work with as he could; he’d need to cast Minor Morph more than a handful of times if he was going to get through this. However, he’d need to have a few runes prepared just in case of an emergency, ones where he didn’t have time to use an incantation.
At the minimum, one Shadow Step, Moonless Night, and Dream Geist rune was all he needed. This was mostly in case he needed to make a quick and easy escape. He knew the incantation to many other spells that were fortunately low in cost. They likely wouldn’t see much, if any use at all, but they were still good to know as long as they could fill even niche roles. Jeanne found use for those quite a bit; it was nice to be versatile, even if just a little.
Jeanne stopped for the night and sat down. He had a lot of time to think, as he did often. He found it near impossible to sleep for more than an hour at a time, and even when he woke he didn’t feel well rested. He felt just the same as he did before he slept. At this point, especially now, sleeping would just put him in greater danger than he was now. At first, being content with doing nothing was difficult, especially with no way to quickly pass the time. It took a few years, but it eventually became easy to just sit and turn his mind off — or to sit and send his mind into overdrive. Both worked.
For now, he wanted to think ahead as far as he could. “Once I reach the Magocracy, all my money should be spent on magic and...just magic, I suppose. I can’t foresee any other expenses. I also should visit Va’alune. There was plenty for them to talk about, scholar to scholar, mage to mage." Jeanne pulled out the fine dagger he was given earlier, tracing his fingers around the stone embedded in it. If he couldn’t figure this out before he made it to the Magocracy, there was certainly an answer to be found there.
And if there wasn’t, he had plenty of time to figure it out. He’d hate to return the thing after he’d be entrusted to figure it out. Money could certainly go a long way in discerning what power it held, but it’d be a waste to just take it to an enhancer and have them tell him; especially when he could just spend the money on learning spells meant to detect magic instead. He’d need time to put in the practice before he could use any of the spells effectively. The dagger was a worthy investment of that time.
All of his magic certainly wouldn’t go towards learning magic, no. He intended to enjoy himself as well. “Who knows what kind of research has been published in the past years? It’s been ages since I’ve read anything by an accomplished scholar. I just-” Jeanne closed his eyes. He was getting a little too excited by things that weren’t going to happen for at least a few weeks. Still, he couldn’t wait to bury himself in countless pages worth of information.
What was he going to do if he couldn’t afford every book he wanted though? Surely there was plenty of opportunity for money in the Magocracy. He traced one of his eye sockets with the edge of the dagger idly. The Magocracy was always looking for magic. While he certainly didn’t have the resources to conduct a study large enough to pique the magisters’ interest, he could definitely go out into the world and find something that would. Artifact hunting could be profitable, and as long as he aligned himself with the magisters he was sure those pesky Justicars would be smart enough not to mess with him.
“So, I learn everything I can — who knows how long that’ll take — then what? I understand things’ll probably be a bit more clear to see when I’ve actually done it, but, I can only go so far when it comes to casting. Even Va’alune spoke of his limits, and I’m near certain I probably can’t go much further than he can. Who would know...” Jeanne paused. “Who would know how to go even further?” He sat up.
“How far can I go?” He looked at the dagger again. He gasped, suddenly. “Who would know what I’m capable of better than the one who made me? I know where I’ll go!” The knowledge to go beyond was always something enticing to Jeanne. In a way, every bit of knowledge unknown to him was already the knowledge to go beyond; to go beyond and widen the scope of what he already knew. However, the knowledge to go beyond his body’s limits? Something that Jeanne could potentially become enthralled with.
His body rattled. He was practically shaking. It was thoughts like these that made it easier for him to pass time. At this rate, the night would be over before he knew it. He sighed, and began to draw in the dirt with his finger. His thoughts would stop there for the time being; he wasn’t even sure if such knowledge existed. He’d be sure once he learned the rites to commune with Deim, though.
Once he left the Magocracy, he had to cross the continent to get to Deim’s Kingdom. Jeanne would rather board a ship at the Thallasy than go through the Tribal Expanse, though. Hopefully he had the money for that. He imagined how much he’d be paid by the magisters depended on what he brought them. How much he made per commission would come down to chance, but whatever he made would surely be enough to pay for a trip along the north coast. He began to draw in the dirt with the dagger as well.
Being dead sure cuts tons of expenses.
Fred Colon
It was so much easier to blame it on Them.
Polly had been to a few inn's on her travels from Hend, but the High Olive was the nicest one she'd seen yet. It was also, probably, the first one she wouldn't be refused service at, on account of having no money.
The best part of all this, however, was that Eldin had already made introductions, so she didn't have to! Polly walked up to the barkeep, grinning, and took all three of the beers after the barkeep was finished pouring. She had to move fast. She'd read in a book that sometimes being polite was a race. If you were too slow, someone would do everything for you, and you'd look rude. Polly didn't want to seem rude, so this was a race she was going to win.
"Thank you!" She said, putting her back to her companions and throwing out her arms so they couldn't get to the drinks. They were hers! At least until she could give them to them. "Also, could I have a bowl of vater, as vell? A big bowl? Jeremiah is drying out a little, he needs somevhere to sit or he vill eventually die." She said, putting one of the mugs in the crook of her arm, balancing it while also holding the other two mugs in each hand, and keeping Jeremiah on her shoulder. When the bowl of water was brought for her, she muttered 'verlängern', and allowed a bit of her magic to run along her tongue, pulled from the deep wellspring that was somewhere inside of her. She liked to imagine the well spring as being somewhere over her spleen. Green and murky with nutrients important for a healthy, thriving ecosystem. (Cast: Beastial Tail (Tongue))
Her tongue began to grow longer, more dexterous, within seconds. When it was done growing, she wrapped it around the base of the bowl. She lifted it to her shoulder, and Jeremiah pulled himself into it it, splashing water onto the floor. He let out a noise that sounded like a watery fart, but that Polly knew was a sound of satisfaction.
Thus ladened with the drinks and bowl, as well as her pack she still hadn't put down yet, Polly rushed over to an unoccupied table and set everything down. Hurrying, to make sure no one interrupted her or took the seat she wanted, she set the bowl with Jeremiah in it and one of the beers, in front of a chair, and then set the other two drinks on either side of it, so that whoever wanted the drinks would have to sit next to her on either side.
"Cuh o'hu hea--" She realized her tongue was still outside of her mouth. It was adjusting the beer mug on her left so that it was spaced exactly the same relative to the center beer mug as the right beer mug was. It always did that, and she wasn't sure why. Her tongue could not stand to see asymmetry, for some reason. She rolled her tongue back into her mouth, pushed the left beer a little off kilter to annoy it, and took the middle seat.
"Come over here!" She said, patting the chairs on either side of her with her thickly gloved hands, motioning Fritz, Eldin and Iseult over. "Ve shall socialize like people! I also have paper for Iseult, if she does not have paper of her own. Though, as she is mute, I feel it might be poor planning on her part if she does not usually have paper and a writing utensil on her." She pulled out a blank notebook and a spare pen from a large pocket on her leather smock, and put it in the center of the table.
"I have a list of topics prepared, or you can come up vith something to talk about, I don't mind either vay."
Polly took a deep sip of her beer, interested to see what beer tasted like, and froze.
Beer... beer was terrible! Her cheeks full, she looked around at the other patrons blithely drinking their drinks. She couldn't just spit it out, that would have to be some sort of social faux pas. So she put the cup back to her lips, pretending to take a sip, and let what was in her mouth dribble back into the cup.
"Delicious. Thank you for the beer, friend Eldin!"
The best part of all this, however, was that Eldin had already made introductions, so she didn't have to! Polly walked up to the barkeep, grinning, and took all three of the beers after the barkeep was finished pouring. She had to move fast. She'd read in a book that sometimes being polite was a race. If you were too slow, someone would do everything for you, and you'd look rude. Polly didn't want to seem rude, so this was a race she was going to win.
"Thank you!" She said, putting her back to her companions and throwing out her arms so they couldn't get to the drinks. They were hers! At least until she could give them to them. "Also, could I have a bowl of vater, as vell? A big bowl? Jeremiah is drying out a little, he needs somevhere to sit or he vill eventually die." She said, putting one of the mugs in the crook of her arm, balancing it while also holding the other two mugs in each hand, and keeping Jeremiah on her shoulder. When the bowl of water was brought for her, she muttered 'verlängern', and allowed a bit of her magic to run along her tongue, pulled from the deep wellspring that was somewhere inside of her. She liked to imagine the well spring as being somewhere over her spleen. Green and murky with nutrients important for a healthy, thriving ecosystem. (Cast: Beastial Tail (Tongue))
Her tongue began to grow longer, more dexterous, within seconds. When it was done growing, she wrapped it around the base of the bowl. She lifted it to her shoulder, and Jeremiah pulled himself into it it, splashing water onto the floor. He let out a noise that sounded like a watery fart, but that Polly knew was a sound of satisfaction.
Thus ladened with the drinks and bowl, as well as her pack she still hadn't put down yet, Polly rushed over to an unoccupied table and set everything down. Hurrying, to make sure no one interrupted her or took the seat she wanted, she set the bowl with Jeremiah in it and one of the beers, in front of a chair, and then set the other two drinks on either side of it, so that whoever wanted the drinks would have to sit next to her on either side.
"Cuh o'hu hea--" She realized her tongue was still outside of her mouth. It was adjusting the beer mug on her left so that it was spaced exactly the same relative to the center beer mug as the right beer mug was. It always did that, and she wasn't sure why. Her tongue could not stand to see asymmetry, for some reason. She rolled her tongue back into her mouth, pushed the left beer a little off kilter to annoy it, and took the middle seat.
"Come over here!" She said, patting the chairs on either side of her with her thickly gloved hands, motioning Fritz, Eldin and Iseult over. "Ve shall socialize like people! I also have paper for Iseult, if she does not have paper of her own. Though, as she is mute, I feel it might be poor planning on her part if she does not usually have paper and a writing utensil on her." She pulled out a blank notebook and a spare pen from a large pocket on her leather smock, and put it in the center of the table.
"I have a list of topics prepared, or you can come up vith something to talk about, I don't mind either vay."
Polly took a deep sip of her beer, interested to see what beer tasted like, and froze.
Beer... beer was terrible! Her cheeks full, she looked around at the other patrons blithely drinking their drinks. She couldn't just spit it out, that would have to be some sort of social faux pas. So she put the cup back to her lips, pretending to take a sip, and let what was in her mouth dribble back into the cup.
"Delicious. Thank you for the beer, friend Eldin!"
Saturn_moon
梦想
Iseult Nihar
The High Olive was everything Iseult had expected of the finest inn in the city. Grand, pristine, and ostentatious to the point of almost being gaudy. Funny how she was almost half the continent away from Ironcrown and money still managed to look the same here. As they drew closer, the sounds of music intermingled with exuberant chatter and general merriment drifted through the open doors and windows to greet them. Odd, she thought, for an inn to be so crowded in the middle of the day, but she supposed when you spent most of your time fighting for your life, there never really was a bad time for a drink.
Standing at the entrance she hesitated for a moment, sparing a glance towards the main gates of Ironheart where Jeanne was likely to be waiting on the other side. He’d be fine, wouldn’t he? After all, he’d already survived for over a century, what was one additional day? Never mind that this one day was on the outskirts of what was possibly the most dangerous place for a deimforged to be with the exception of the Ruins. Pulling the cloak tighter around herself, she stepped in and caught up with the group as Eldin led them to the bar.
After the standard pleasantries that Iseult was immensely grateful to Eldin for doing on their behalf – conversation and small talk had become a recent challenge that she would rather keep to a minimum – the barkeep set about pouring out their drinks, placing each mug on the bar top. However, when Iseult moved to take her own drink, she was abruptly stopped in her tracks by Polly rushing forward and throwing her arms out wide. Confused and caught off guard by the Nebosi woman’s actions, she didn’t process the buzzing of her senses as it picked up the traces of change magic emanating from Polly until she saw her tongue lengthen and extend out of her mouth by tenfold, not unlike a toad, and wrap itself around the bowl of water she had requested for Jeremiah. In her surprise, Iseult stumbled back and reached out to grab a nearby pillar to stop herself from falling over. Except, what she grabbed hadn’t been a pillar at all but rather Eldin’s arm. Eyes widened with shock and embarrassment, she hurriedly let go of the squire and turned around, only to bump her hip hard into the edge of a nearby table. Pain bloomed in the spot where she had been struck and silently she cursed the furniture while also lamenting what over a month in relative isolation had done to her social graces.
All their drinks in hand, Polly spun around, her massive pack narrowly missing the much shorter Iseult still standing beside her, and rushed over to an unoccupied table in a corner not too far away from where Raisha was playing, and apparently losing, darts. She looked to Fritz, then awkwardly to Eldin, to see if they too were acknowledging the bizarreness of this entire situation before eventually, with a resigned shrug, Iseult went and join Polly, choosing the seat on the woman’s left which was closer to a wall.
Holding the mug in both her hands, she first took a long, deep sip, savoring the golden liquid as it ran down her throat. It was malty, sweet, and most importantly, strong enough to calm her nerves. Honestly, if that hadn't work, she had contemplated casting a spell on herself to slow her pulse. Taking the pen and notebook Polly had placed on the table for her, Iseult wrote something onto the page in neat, cursive handwriting then turned to book around to face Polly.
"Mage?"
Minor Bloodstep x 1, Minor Anemia x 2, Summon Minor Honumculous x 1, Uncover Skill x 1
Mana Pool: 15/30
Mana Pool: 15/30
SentinelSevn
A.I.S.H.A.
sheesh
Pai Chan
Fred Colon
EMIYAman
Last edited:
Pai Chan
Elder Member
During the journey to the Inn Ayesha’s thoughts wandered off. Thinking about the journey ahead and the people she would be traveling with. Her group was definitely something out of one of the many stories Ayesha had read. There were a few curious individuals involved with their group.A group's chemistry is just as important as an individual's skill.
If there are any weak links then the whole group falters.
Ayesha nodded. Raisha looked like a true warrior and strong enough to hold her own. But she also seemed the loner type. Working away from everyone and declining any offerings of assistance. According to the stories, every group had at least one of those types. Everyone would need to work together.
The frog girl was unique. But Ayesha did catch the notes Polly was taking. She was making an effort to mesh with everyone. Whether that would work, in practice, they would have to see.
The silent one was someone Ayesha knew the least about. Besides a guess that the woman was probably a mage. And that was only at the quick observation that Iseult lacked a warrior’s weapon.
Fritz was the person Ayesha worried about the least. Along with Eldin, Ayesha knew they had combat drills similar to Ayesha’s, if not more refined. They were knights in training after all.
Raisha stepped through a door that Ayesha looked up at in shock. Connected to the door was a fantastical building that one wouldn’t expect to be home to a mere inn. It looked more like Duke’s place of residence. Ayesha had seen plenty back at her home in Dacht. The city of Ironheart was truly a place the young warrior could get used to.
Ayesha let out a breath and stepped through the inn doors to see the front was made up of a bar and dining area. She had read of these. To be honest, the girl’s experience at inns was near zero. She never stayed at one and hadn’t even been inside of the place. Sure, Ayesha had read plenty about them in fantastical adventurer books but nothing was like living through them.
Several minutes later, Ayesha had somehow found herself at a table full of battle hardened people. Upon seeing the girl order a glass of cranberry juice they decided to join her. Apparently, an adventurer ordering something non-alcoholic caught their attention. One of them suggested she take a sip from their mug.
“No, thank you. I’m content with my drink.” Ayesha said politely.
“We insist, poppet. It’ll help you on whatever journey that lies ahead.” Ayesha looked at the mug quizzically.
“Is it like an elixir?” The large man grinned, widely.
“Yeeeah. Take a drink and it’ll change you for the better. Like it has changed us!” The man outstretched his arms towards his mates and they all nodded in agreement. Ayesha nodded her head and took the large mug in her hands. The rest of the table looked on in anticipation as the girl raised the drink.
In the next instant Ayesha spat out the drink, hitting the man in the face. The rest of the table erupted into laughter as the girl looked at the mug in horror.
“You poisoned me!” This time it was the man’s turn to join in on the laughter.
“You mean to tell me you’ve never ‘ad ale before?”
“Ale is poison?” She asked and the person next to Ayesha patted her back.
“Ale is an acquired taste, mate. But it’s far from poisonous.”
“And you drink this on purpose?” Ayesha slid the drink back towards the large man as he nodded.
“This drink has always helped the common adventurer calm their nerves before setting out.” A loud noise was heard in the direction where Raisha was. “Well, some of us, anyway. Either way, we temporarily forget about the unknowns of tomorrow so that we may dwell on the present and enjoy ourselves.” Ayesha nodded and quickly downed her cranberry juice to soothe the aftertaste of the ale that burned her throat.
It was then she looked up and saw the rest of her group just as they were sitting down at another table. Ayesha kindly dismissed herself with the others wished her good luck on her journey as she departed. They weren’t what she was expecting. The warrior expected them to be big and angry like the books normally described veteran warriors that weren’t knights.
Ayesha found an open spot at the table and quickly slipped herself in.
“Glad to see the rest of you found the place. Although, I guess it’s hard to miss. I’m Ayesha, by the way. I plan to be our mid to frontline. Basically, keeping the range fighters on our squad alive while making sure no one gets near them.” Ayesha said while not taking her eyes off of Polly. The frog girl was taking in everyone’s drinks like she hadn’t had anything to drink in weeks. And if it was all the ale that Ayesha tasted before, it was an impressive feat. Polly must have had a lot of nerves she needed to settle.
A.I.S.H.A.
Artificial Integrated Social Human Algorithm
"OH, don't worry, lass, I'm sure THIS TIME you'll hit the bullseye," the man said.
Raisha slammed a new round of frothy mugs onto the table. Very quickly, she had become the most generous bar patron 'they ever did saw.' She slid the drinks to the other men who were now chugging the contents of their previous drink in order to avoid having their drink nicked by another more opportunistic squire. She took her own mug and did the same. Any more and she'd stop acting drunk and start actually being drunk. Her face burned with faux fury as the next patron approached.
"You're a better waitress than a dart player," another man grabbed a mug and took a swig.
"I'm sure the innkeeper has a spare uniform in the back," a third squire sneered, prompting more laughter from the table.
Raisha narrowed her eyes, tempted to bite but she stayed her pride in that moment. Her lip pulled itself back in a snarl and her dirt stained nails dug into the wood.
"Fine," she said, strolling up to the man with an indignant arch to her brow, "If you beat me again, I'll see about wearing that waitress uniform. If you lose, you pay me back for that drink."
The man shot a few glances at some of the others mulling about for free drinks and smirked. "You mean in coin?"
Raisha shifted her weight and leaned on the edge of the table with her arms crossed and sultry gaze. "My coin purse is feeling rather light and if we want to keep our night going, I'll need more money for the bartender, be it through darts or service."
The guard looked her up and down, then glanced over at the dart board. The darts from Raisha's most recent loss still stuck about the cork on the wall. They inspired some confidence in him and he downed the remnants of his mug. "Alright, lass. I'll take your wager," he hopped to his feet and immediately stumbled. Another squire caught him and the table erupted in laughter.
"She's fed you well!" one of them jeered, eliciting more laughter among them.
Raisha was making her way towards the board when the men gathered once more to watch the game. "This time will be different. I know it," she declared as she snatched the darts from the board.
More laughter filled the space.
"You've said that before every game!"
The man she faced took his set of darts from her and rolled his eyes. "I'm starting to think its a premonition of a sure bet."
"Only one way to find out," she said with a focused glare. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. She drank hard and fast to draw in the crowds. It's been some time since she's touched her mug now and the man standing next to her was wiping the remains of his fourth mug in an hour from his mouth. Normally, Raisha was happy to drink the night away but unfortunately, she quite literally couldn't afford it. Eric offered to foot the bill so she would be loath to pass up that sort of opportunity and she knew exactly what to do. The sooner she got to it, the better. And when she released her first dart, her fingers lightly letting the dart fly forth, her lips couldn't help but curl ever so slightly.
THP! The dart landed cleanly onto the board, just missing the bullseye. For the first time that night, she scored a 9. The small crowd that had gather rose up in a wave of surprise. Some were aghast, others were laughing. She really did it! Even a broken clock is right twice a day. Raisha slipped a cheeky glance at her opponent who was nodding at the shot.
"That's not bad," he said as he readied himself for his shot. Raisha fought the urge to chuckle. It was clear he was so focused on planting his feet firmly that the grip on his dart was off. Ever so slightly, but it was enough. THP! An 8 for him. A few onlookers cheered but most were looking back at Raisha. She was already taking aim on her next shot and they were leaning on the idea that her recent fortune was nothing more than luck. However, her aim stayed true. The dart rattled as it impacted the board once more. It was even closer to the bullseye than the last dart. Another 9 for a total of 18. If her opponent didn't want to fall behind, he needed to match her at least. When Raisha looked at him again, he was doing his damndest to focus but there was a limit placed upon him by the liquor that was well inside his system and his balance was unsteady. Disaster struck when his dart careened off its mark and landed on a 7. Raisha scoffed as the crowds began to mutter in excitement. Was the foreigner's first win upon them? Raisha took less time to aim. In fact, she couldn't care less about hitting the bullseye. Her final dart sailed lazily into an 8 and netted her a total of 26 points. As it stood, her opponent had only 15 points, so that a perfect bullseye would only have gotten him to 25. Raisha held her hand out.
"Pay up," her voiced dropped sharply. The man looked at her to find that her expression had lost all its flare and brazenness. Instead, he found himself standing before a woman with a splash of arrogance and bucket of humorless expectation. She seemed more like a tax collector now than a bar patron. The man's brow knit together, causing his nose to scrunch up and his lips bent unhappily towards the floor.
"That was a fluke," he said, "Double or nothing."
Raisha smiled. Gotcha...
"Fine," she retrieved the darts once more. She won again. And again. And soon she was the player to beat. The crowd of drunken patrons were all too eager to test their mettle against this renewed foreigner and very quickly, Raisha was all smiles. She lost a few games just to keep them biting but when all was said and done, Raisha found herself patting a pouch of 15 copper at her hip.
"Sorry, gents, but the rest of the night awaits me," she held up her hands at the group of booing squires like a celebrity who was refusing autographs. The reality was, no one was drinking nearly as much as they were and were beginning to sober up. Pretty soon she would actually start losing more than she was winning. Raisha finished tying her coin purse and began scanning the room for the rest of her supposed party when a young man stepped out of the crowd.
"Hey!" he said, "I challenge you."
"You're a bit late to the party, my friend," she said, walking past him and towards a giant frog looking head poking out from the crowd. She'd recognize the Nebosi girl anywhere.
"If you win, I'll double what's in your coin purse!" he called out.
Raisha stopped. She sighed, considering her options. This was quite a hefty wager and if she won, she'd be doubling her coin for the journey. That would make her situation quite comfortable for some time. "And if I lose?"
"I take all your winnings," he said.
That was to be expected. Raisha scowled and licked her lips. What really bothered her was his nerve. Didn't he watch what she's been doing all night? The eyes of the other patrons were her, waiting tentatively for her response. They knew just as much as she did how tempting the offer was. Slowly, Raisha turned around, lighting up the crowd's faces when she did.
The man was tall. His clothes were fairly well kept which was certainly more than Raisha could say for herself but most importantly, he didn't have a mug in his hand. His face was charming enough and she might've been fooled into thinking he was a nice man if she didn't know any better. Raisha's been to far too many bars to trust a face like that. Nevertheless, she was tempted most of all to take that friendly smile of his and tear it asunder.
"What is your name?" step by step, she walked towards the board. The bystanders began to buzz with excitement as Raisha plucked the darts from the cork.
"Aldur," he said, "What about you?"
Raisha took his hand and slapped the darts into his palm. "Focus on the game, first."
The man offered a small smile but nodded in acknowledgement and took a step back as Raisha took aim for her first shot. Silence hung in the air for just a moment, then... THP! She could've started better but a 9 would do for now. She turned to the Allen and impatiently waited for him to take his first shot. He stepped forward and held up his dart, shooting a glance at an unamused Raisha before taking the hint and turning back to the board. His hand swung back and forth gently a few times before whoosh. The dart lifted off his finger and landed cleanly in the center of the board. A perfect bullseye. Raisha's eyes glimmered dangerously. He had taken a strong early lead, 10-9.
"Wow, that was pretty-"
"Move," Raisha stepped forward and took aim once more. She had no patience for casual banter. They weren't friends. She was not inclined to get chummy. Her eyes narrowed into lasers as her hand gripped the dart with care and intent. If Aaron wanted to play with her winnings, he'd have to take it from her filthy, bloody, calloused hands. THP! The dart streaked through the air before finding a home right next to her opponents dart. Another bullseye. The crowd was electric. Cheers and roars clamored about them as the squire stepped forward for his second dart.
"Hehe," he chuckled, "It looks like we're... giving them quite.. the.." he trailed off and looked away from Raisha who was now burning into him with the weight of her drive to win this game. He swallowed and focused on the board before him as the crowd hushed once more. His swung back and forth before letting the dart sail. Heads turned towards the board in anticipation of where the dart landed and the patrons instantly roared in amazement. Raisha's glare deepened and a smirk crawled its way up her cheek. A 9. The game was now tied.
"Papa's money is riding on this, squire," Raisha stepped forward, "Better settle those nerves." She knew the likelihood of hitting another bullseye was unlikely for her. She couldn't count on that. She needed something more dependable, like weakness in an enemy. She knew Alf's quite well now. Pressure gave him cold feet.
The squire gave a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, I'm pretty good at darts, though I only ever play with my-"
"Would you look at that!" Raisha brought her arms out and looked towards the crowd. "He only ever played with his mama!"
"I-"
"You're a good-lookin mama's boy, so at least you've got that going for you," Raisha winked at him, causing the squire to blush and look around at the snickers emerging from the crowd.
"You've got this, Aldur! Put her in the dirt!" someone called out from the crowd, causing the squire to turn and smile in relief. At least he had someone in corner. Raisha frowned. She stepped forward and poked his arm with the dart.
"Head in the game, yerkaarl," she said.
"What does that mea-"
"It means 'He who sniffs his own arse'," she said, "Dog."
The man furrowed his brow in a mixture of offense and injured pride. Raisha turned and within but a moment of taking aim, released her dart. It coursed through the air and impacted the board squarely in a 9. That was fine. That was all she needed.
"I hope for your sake, you don't embarrass yourself any more than you already have," she jabbed before stepping aside.
Andy pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "Win or lose, that was quite uncalled for."
"I wish I gave a rat's ass," she rolled her eyes and watched as he settled in. The crowd leaned in, quietly vying for a better view of the board as the squire took several torturous seconds to take aim. Raisha watched him like a hawk. Every move, every breath was not lost on her and he felt it. Her eyes bore into him as he drew in one long breath. He didn't swing his hand as he did before. The man simply reared the dart back and let it fly. Raisha, along with all the other patrons watched the dart slide through the air like a doe on ice. It stayed true and in that fateful moment, sharp gasps drew in as everyone processed that before them sat the squire's final dart right in the bullseye. The crowd erupted in a fit of yelling and cheers as they rushed towards the squire and drown him in frantic celebration. Raisha simply watched, taking a few shoves as patrons pushed past her to join in the excitement. Her hand gripped her coin purse tightly. With a flick, she ripped it off her belt and stared at the crowd bow inward and lift up their champion. Aldur was a mess of shock and surprise himself. His eyes found Raisha's and he smiled.
"Good ga- oh!" his hands whipped out in time to catch the coin purse that was just flung towards him. When he looked for Raisha again, he found her already making her way towards the bar.
"Out of the way," she seethed and jockied for space in front of the bartender. Well, if she was going to be dead broke, she might as well grab what she can get tonight, starting with liquor. "Give me your strongest in the biggest mug."
The innkeeper gave her a lookover but stayed quiet. It was quite clear she wasn't in the mood for small talk. She quickly got her hands on the mug and the first order of business was refilling her flask. Next, it was drowning herself in liquor for the rest of the night. Suddenly, her stomach grumbled unhappily and Raisha found herself quickly parched for something to eat. Well, whenever she got the chance to grab the innkeeper's attention again. The crowd of bystanders from the darts game were all swarming towards the bar now for more drinks. Food later, then. Raisha made a mental note of it and took a swig from her mug before shuffling her way towards the first open chair she could find but before she could even take a step, she found herself was to face with Aldur. Her eyes drifted up and her eyes narrowed like an unfriendly feline.
"No," she said bluntly before stepping past him but he reached out and stopped her. Raisha shot him a death glare and reared back to swing a fist towards his jaw. She loosed her punch but the squire wheeled out of the way and blocked the punch with a... pouch.
"I just wanted to thank you for that game," Aldur said.
Raisha looked at the pouch, then back at him and squinted; digging for any hint that this was some sort of prank. "What?"
"I don't really want to take your money, my friends just convinced me to take a shot at a game against you."
Raisha remained unconvinced. "So, that's it? You just wanted to play a game of darts?"
Aldur nodded.
Raisha only narrowed her eyes further. She looked back at the pouch for a moment, then snatched it out of his hand. She opened it and to her surprise, her winnings were still there. Raisha frowned and shook her head, a part of her still sitting in denial. She reached in and quickly counted up her 15 copper pieces from the games she's won. Raisha looked up at Aldur again. Her expression softened from murderous fury to abject apathy. She reached into her pouched and tossed two coins. Aldur caught them and looked at his hands.
"Buy yourself a drink," Raisha strapped her coin purse back onto her belt. "You've earned it." She turned without another word and walked away.
"A meal when you get the chance," she slapped the bar counter to snag the innkeeper's attention for a moment before meandering off towards the rest of her party. The other women, including the one she knew to be Iseult were sitting together and an open chair stood idly at the table beside them. She took a swig of her mug and gripped the chair, swinging it around beside Iseult and sitting down. She slouched and let her eyes drift around the table, daring anyone to poke at her with their curious glances. Raisha took another swig of her mug and felt the familiar burn of hard liquor settle into her chest. It was then that she started to tune her ears to what they were discussing and heard mention of battle tactics from the young girl that sat across from her. If she recalled correctly, this was the one who was asking questions like a bunny on coffee. It was hard to forget that when Raisha now found herself amidst a table that was discussing battle tactics of all things. She looked at Iseult, then the Nebosi. One was mute, and the other was busy quarreling with her... tongue... Elliot droned on about their plans for the morning, their meals, their rooms, the- well, the point is made. Raisha found herself staring at her mug before finally exhaling.
"Save the headaches for the morning, Ezekiel," Raisha tossed out her words with heavy weariness to them as she took another swig of her mug. "These sorts of discussions don't belong in a bar." Any longer and she thought she might keel over with exhaustion. Raisha soon found herself looking for the innkeeper and her meal. Another drink would become necessary very quickly. Only half her enlarged mug sloshed with liquor and I wasn't going to be the case for long.
Saturn_moon
Pai Chan
SentinelSevn
Fred Colon
sheesh
EMIYAman
Raisha slammed a new round of frothy mugs onto the table. Very quickly, she had become the most generous bar patron 'they ever did saw.' She slid the drinks to the other men who were now chugging the contents of their previous drink in order to avoid having their drink nicked by another more opportunistic squire. She took her own mug and did the same. Any more and she'd stop acting drunk and start actually being drunk. Her face burned with faux fury as the next patron approached.
"You're a better waitress than a dart player," another man grabbed a mug and took a swig.
"I'm sure the innkeeper has a spare uniform in the back," a third squire sneered, prompting more laughter from the table.
Raisha narrowed her eyes, tempted to bite but she stayed her pride in that moment. Her lip pulled itself back in a snarl and her dirt stained nails dug into the wood.
"Fine," she said, strolling up to the man with an indignant arch to her brow, "If you beat me again, I'll see about wearing that waitress uniform. If you lose, you pay me back for that drink."
The man shot a few glances at some of the others mulling about for free drinks and smirked. "You mean in coin?"
Raisha shifted her weight and leaned on the edge of the table with her arms crossed and sultry gaze. "My coin purse is feeling rather light and if we want to keep our night going, I'll need more money for the bartender, be it through darts or service."
The guard looked her up and down, then glanced over at the dart board. The darts from Raisha's most recent loss still stuck about the cork on the wall. They inspired some confidence in him and he downed the remnants of his mug. "Alright, lass. I'll take your wager," he hopped to his feet and immediately stumbled. Another squire caught him and the table erupted in laughter.
"She's fed you well!" one of them jeered, eliciting more laughter among them.
Raisha was making her way towards the board when the men gathered once more to watch the game. "This time will be different. I know it," she declared as she snatched the darts from the board.
More laughter filled the space.
"You've said that before every game!"
The man she faced took his set of darts from her and rolled his eyes. "I'm starting to think its a premonition of a sure bet."
"Only one way to find out," she said with a focused glare. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. She drank hard and fast to draw in the crowds. It's been some time since she's touched her mug now and the man standing next to her was wiping the remains of his fourth mug in an hour from his mouth. Normally, Raisha was happy to drink the night away but unfortunately, she quite literally couldn't afford it. Eric offered to foot the bill so she would be loath to pass up that sort of opportunity and she knew exactly what to do. The sooner she got to it, the better. And when she released her first dart, her fingers lightly letting the dart fly forth, her lips couldn't help but curl ever so slightly.
THP! The dart landed cleanly onto the board, just missing the bullseye. For the first time that night, she scored a 9. The small crowd that had gather rose up in a wave of surprise. Some were aghast, others were laughing. She really did it! Even a broken clock is right twice a day. Raisha slipped a cheeky glance at her opponent who was nodding at the shot.
"That's not bad," he said as he readied himself for his shot. Raisha fought the urge to chuckle. It was clear he was so focused on planting his feet firmly that the grip on his dart was off. Ever so slightly, but it was enough. THP! An 8 for him. A few onlookers cheered but most were looking back at Raisha. She was already taking aim on her next shot and they were leaning on the idea that her recent fortune was nothing more than luck. However, her aim stayed true. The dart rattled as it impacted the board once more. It was even closer to the bullseye than the last dart. Another 9 for a total of 18. If her opponent didn't want to fall behind, he needed to match her at least. When Raisha looked at him again, he was doing his damndest to focus but there was a limit placed upon him by the liquor that was well inside his system and his balance was unsteady. Disaster struck when his dart careened off its mark and landed on a 7. Raisha scoffed as the crowds began to mutter in excitement. Was the foreigner's first win upon them? Raisha took less time to aim. In fact, she couldn't care less about hitting the bullseye. Her final dart sailed lazily into an 8 and netted her a total of 26 points. As it stood, her opponent had only 15 points, so that a perfect bullseye would only have gotten him to 25. Raisha held her hand out.
"Pay up," her voiced dropped sharply. The man looked at her to find that her expression had lost all its flare and brazenness. Instead, he found himself standing before a woman with a splash of arrogance and bucket of humorless expectation. She seemed more like a tax collector now than a bar patron. The man's brow knit together, causing his nose to scrunch up and his lips bent unhappily towards the floor.
"That was a fluke," he said, "Double or nothing."
Raisha smiled. Gotcha...
"Fine," she retrieved the darts once more. She won again. And again. And soon she was the player to beat. The crowd of drunken patrons were all too eager to test their mettle against this renewed foreigner and very quickly, Raisha was all smiles. She lost a few games just to keep them biting but when all was said and done, Raisha found herself patting a pouch of 15 copper at her hip.
"Sorry, gents, but the rest of the night awaits me," she held up her hands at the group of booing squires like a celebrity who was refusing autographs. The reality was, no one was drinking nearly as much as they were and were beginning to sober up. Pretty soon she would actually start losing more than she was winning. Raisha finished tying her coin purse and began scanning the room for the rest of her supposed party when a young man stepped out of the crowd.
"Hey!" he said, "I challenge you."
"You're a bit late to the party, my friend," she said, walking past him and towards a giant frog looking head poking out from the crowd. She'd recognize the Nebosi girl anywhere.
"If you win, I'll double what's in your coin purse!" he called out.
Raisha stopped. She sighed, considering her options. This was quite a hefty wager and if she won, she'd be doubling her coin for the journey. That would make her situation quite comfortable for some time. "And if I lose?"
"I take all your winnings," he said.
That was to be expected. Raisha scowled and licked her lips. What really bothered her was his nerve. Didn't he watch what she's been doing all night? The eyes of the other patrons were her, waiting tentatively for her response. They knew just as much as she did how tempting the offer was. Slowly, Raisha turned around, lighting up the crowd's faces when she did.
The man was tall. His clothes were fairly well kept which was certainly more than Raisha could say for herself but most importantly, he didn't have a mug in his hand. His face was charming enough and she might've been fooled into thinking he was a nice man if she didn't know any better. Raisha's been to far too many bars to trust a face like that. Nevertheless, she was tempted most of all to take that friendly smile of his and tear it asunder.
"What is your name?" step by step, she walked towards the board. The bystanders began to buzz with excitement as Raisha plucked the darts from the cork.
"Aldur," he said, "What about you?"
Raisha took his hand and slapped the darts into his palm. "Focus on the game, first."
The man offered a small smile but nodded in acknowledgement and took a step back as Raisha took aim for her first shot. Silence hung in the air for just a moment, then... THP! She could've started better but a 9 would do for now. She turned to the Allen and impatiently waited for him to take his first shot. He stepped forward and held up his dart, shooting a glance at an unamused Raisha before taking the hint and turning back to the board. His hand swung back and forth gently a few times before whoosh. The dart lifted off his finger and landed cleanly in the center of the board. A perfect bullseye. Raisha's eyes glimmered dangerously. He had taken a strong early lead, 10-9.
"Wow, that was pretty-"
"Move," Raisha stepped forward and took aim once more. She had no patience for casual banter. They weren't friends. She was not inclined to get chummy. Her eyes narrowed into lasers as her hand gripped the dart with care and intent. If Aaron wanted to play with her winnings, he'd have to take it from her filthy, bloody, calloused hands. THP! The dart streaked through the air before finding a home right next to her opponents dart. Another bullseye. The crowd was electric. Cheers and roars clamored about them as the squire stepped forward for his second dart.
"Hehe," he chuckled, "It looks like we're... giving them quite.. the.." he trailed off and looked away from Raisha who was now burning into him with the weight of her drive to win this game. He swallowed and focused on the board before him as the crowd hushed once more. His swung back and forth before letting the dart sail. Heads turned towards the board in anticipation of where the dart landed and the patrons instantly roared in amazement. Raisha's glare deepened and a smirk crawled its way up her cheek. A 9. The game was now tied.
"Papa's money is riding on this, squire," Raisha stepped forward, "Better settle those nerves." She knew the likelihood of hitting another bullseye was unlikely for her. She couldn't count on that. She needed something more dependable, like weakness in an enemy. She knew Alf's quite well now. Pressure gave him cold feet.
The squire gave a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, I'm pretty good at darts, though I only ever play with my-"
"Would you look at that!" Raisha brought her arms out and looked towards the crowd. "He only ever played with his mama!"
"I-"
"You're a good-lookin mama's boy, so at least you've got that going for you," Raisha winked at him, causing the squire to blush and look around at the snickers emerging from the crowd.
"You've got this, Aldur! Put her in the dirt!" someone called out from the crowd, causing the squire to turn and smile in relief. At least he had someone in corner. Raisha frowned. She stepped forward and poked his arm with the dart.
"Head in the game, yerkaarl," she said.
"What does that mea-"
"It means 'He who sniffs his own arse'," she said, "Dog."
The man furrowed his brow in a mixture of offense and injured pride. Raisha turned and within but a moment of taking aim, released her dart. It coursed through the air and impacted the board squarely in a 9. That was fine. That was all she needed.
"I hope for your sake, you don't embarrass yourself any more than you already have," she jabbed before stepping aside.
Andy pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "Win or lose, that was quite uncalled for."
"I wish I gave a rat's ass," she rolled her eyes and watched as he settled in. The crowd leaned in, quietly vying for a better view of the board as the squire took several torturous seconds to take aim. Raisha watched him like a hawk. Every move, every breath was not lost on her and he felt it. Her eyes bore into him as he drew in one long breath. He didn't swing his hand as he did before. The man simply reared the dart back and let it fly. Raisha, along with all the other patrons watched the dart slide through the air like a doe on ice. It stayed true and in that fateful moment, sharp gasps drew in as everyone processed that before them sat the squire's final dart right in the bullseye. The crowd erupted in a fit of yelling and cheers as they rushed towards the squire and drown him in frantic celebration. Raisha simply watched, taking a few shoves as patrons pushed past her to join in the excitement. Her hand gripped her coin purse tightly. With a flick, she ripped it off her belt and stared at the crowd bow inward and lift up their champion. Aldur was a mess of shock and surprise himself. His eyes found Raisha's and he smiled.
"Good ga- oh!" his hands whipped out in time to catch the coin purse that was just flung towards him. When he looked for Raisha again, he found her already making her way towards the bar.
"Out of the way," she seethed and jockied for space in front of the bartender. Well, if she was going to be dead broke, she might as well grab what she can get tonight, starting with liquor. "Give me your strongest in the biggest mug."
The innkeeper gave her a lookover but stayed quiet. It was quite clear she wasn't in the mood for small talk. She quickly got her hands on the mug and the first order of business was refilling her flask. Next, it was drowning herself in liquor for the rest of the night. Suddenly, her stomach grumbled unhappily and Raisha found herself quickly parched for something to eat. Well, whenever she got the chance to grab the innkeeper's attention again. The crowd of bystanders from the darts game were all swarming towards the bar now for more drinks. Food later, then. Raisha made a mental note of it and took a swig from her mug before shuffling her way towards the first open chair she could find but before she could even take a step, she found herself was to face with Aldur. Her eyes drifted up and her eyes narrowed like an unfriendly feline.
"No," she said bluntly before stepping past him but he reached out and stopped her. Raisha shot him a death glare and reared back to swing a fist towards his jaw. She loosed her punch but the squire wheeled out of the way and blocked the punch with a... pouch.
"I just wanted to thank you for that game," Aldur said.
Raisha looked at the pouch, then back at him and squinted; digging for any hint that this was some sort of prank. "What?"
"I don't really want to take your money, my friends just convinced me to take a shot at a game against you."
Raisha remained unconvinced. "So, that's it? You just wanted to play a game of darts?"
Aldur nodded.
Raisha only narrowed her eyes further. She looked back at the pouch for a moment, then snatched it out of his hand. She opened it and to her surprise, her winnings were still there. Raisha frowned and shook her head, a part of her still sitting in denial. She reached in and quickly counted up her 15 copper pieces from the games she's won. Raisha looked up at Aldur again. Her expression softened from murderous fury to abject apathy. She reached into her pouched and tossed two coins. Aldur caught them and looked at his hands.
"Buy yourself a drink," Raisha strapped her coin purse back onto her belt. "You've earned it." She turned without another word and walked away.
"A meal when you get the chance," she slapped the bar counter to snag the innkeeper's attention for a moment before meandering off towards the rest of her party. The other women, including the one she knew to be Iseult were sitting together and an open chair stood idly at the table beside them. She took a swig of her mug and gripped the chair, swinging it around beside Iseult and sitting down. She slouched and let her eyes drift around the table, daring anyone to poke at her with their curious glances. Raisha took another swig of her mug and felt the familiar burn of hard liquor settle into her chest. It was then that she started to tune her ears to what they were discussing and heard mention of battle tactics from the young girl that sat across from her. If she recalled correctly, this was the one who was asking questions like a bunny on coffee. It was hard to forget that when Raisha now found herself amidst a table that was discussing battle tactics of all things. She looked at Iseult, then the Nebosi. One was mute, and the other was busy quarreling with her... tongue... Elliot droned on about their plans for the morning, their meals, their rooms, the- well, the point is made. Raisha found herself staring at her mug before finally exhaling.
"Save the headaches for the morning, Ezekiel," Raisha tossed out her words with heavy weariness to them as she took another swig of her mug. "These sorts of discussions don't belong in a bar." Any longer and she thought she might keel over with exhaustion. Raisha soon found herself looking for the innkeeper and her meal. Another drink would become necessary very quickly. Only half her enlarged mug sloshed with liquor and I wasn't going to be the case for long.
Saturn_moon
Pai Chan
SentinelSevn
Fred Colon
sheesh
EMIYAman
Last edited:
SentinelSevn
Professional Coffee Addict
Eldin had also been surprised at Polly’s speedy retrieval of the group’s drinks. It was enough to bring a chuckle regarding just how unexpecting each member would and could become. As Polly made her way through to the front, he hadn’t noticed until she was practically grasping as his arm that she had pushed her way past the red-headed mute, Iseult. It was enough to distract him from the fact that Polly’s tongue was growing to the size of another arm, and he instead paid mind to the woman now beside him.
“It’s alright,” He started with a chuckle, “She’d probably make her way past me too, if I were in your position.” But Iseult didn’t linger beside him long. She quickly released his arm and turned to follow Polly towards a table, her gaze averted downward as to not meet his eyes along the way.
There was a wry smile on Eldin’s lips, an understanding that getting along with the group was going to take more than just a night at the inn along with a meal. Meeting eyes with the innkeeper once more, he raised a hand with two fingers raised. The other male quickly understood the sign that he was requesting two more drinks, and in about a minute, set two more cups of the golden liquor on the counter. Taking one in each hand, he turned around to walk towards the group on the table.
But Eldin was distracted by the sound of loud cheering from one side of the room. He turned his head towards the mess of squires and a few knights who decided to enjoy the show, to see Raisha being the center of attention. He couldn’t tell whether she was winning or losing from that distance, but the sour look on her face gaze him the impression that it was the latter. As entertaining as it may have been to join his fellow knights in their fun jests, he wasn’t a gambling man, nor would it seem proper for him to abandon his company as their host.
Joining them at the table, he set the two glasses down beside Iseult before even realizing that Ayesha had also snuck herself in. Unaware of her previous encounter with alcohol, he instinctively slid one of the glasses across the table towards her. The drink sloshed across the lip of the container, spilling to drip in the slightest over the sides of the mug, before landing just a few inches away from the edge of the table in front of Ayesha.
“So you’ll likely either be right beside, or right behind me,” Eldin added to Ayesha’s statement. “I don’t have an extremely hefty amount of knowledge in magic, but I’m pretty wieldy of my mace. Not much past sheer overwhelming numbers easily get past me, so between you and I we have that front covered.”
The topic was redirected in the slightest, when Polly expressed her gratitude for the drink. “It’s my pleasure. A drink is the least I can do for at least taking up the mantle in accompanying me. I can treat you all again when we make it back.” He replied with high hopes, attempting to keep the attitude rather light-hearted in comparison. “By the looks of that stunt you pulled with that..” He started to say, before a puzzled expression caused a furling of his brows together. He raised the back of his hand to his face until his knuckle was kissed against his lips, and two fingers wiggled in a slithering motion. “...tongue thing, you did. A mage?” He asked.
His attention was pulled from the Nebosi when Fritz joined them, with another drink in hand. He quietly took the seat beside Eldin, the seat he himself had intended to take, but maintained a solemn expression with only his eyes following the group and their antics. Eldin didn’t know Fritz well, but it was easily a different expression compared to the rather stoic introduction he had made earlier. He put the thought aside, making a mental note to inquire about it with the other squire later.
It was about then that another bout of loud cheering erupted from the other side of the room, and before Eldin could crane his head in that direction to find out what and why such a new wave of noise had been created, Raisha began to stumble her way towards the table with another drink in hand. Taking the seat between Ayesha and Polly, the look on her face was far different from the one of bitterness she had worn earlier.
“And it sounds like you’re a fan favorite..” He rose his own mug of ale in toast, before taking a large swig of the drink down his throat. “Now that we’re all here, someone remind me that we need to all make a trip down to the barracks before we leave in the morning.” Eldin started to explain, “I thought we’d do that earlier so that we could leave here bright and early, but seems a few of us were too eager to join the festivities here at the inn.” His eyes darted in Raisha’s direction, not so subtly making an inference as to why. “And not sure if the barkeep explained it to you two when you got here, but a meal and your keys for the night are with him,” He repeated to Ayesha and Raisha, seeing as how they had not been with the group when he made the announcement, “So just ask him for a set when you’re ready to call it a night. I’ll do a set of rounds and knock on the doors in the morning, but I imagine you all will be ready and waiting outside by dawn.”
As he finished explaining the plan for the morning, an arm of Raisha’s shoulder placed a porcelain dish in front of her. A browned, roasted hen, stuffed with an assortment of greens and sliced mushrooms and onions. It lay on a bed of disked potatoes, dressed in a rich brown gravy. Another plate placed beside the first, a ¾ inch slice of venison with what appeared to be a spoonful of a a red sauce peeking out from one edge. “The second one is on the boy sitting on the counter up there, said to tell you he’s had enough to drink for the night anyway.” The barkeep gestured towards Aldur sitting at the edge of the bar, where after a glance and smile in Raisha’s direction he continued to chatter with another squire that was seated beside him.
Eldin didn’t know how Raisha had managed to make so many friends in the short time since they left the barracks, which couldn’t have been more than an hour and a half by now. But he also didn’t blame them. Even with the mud, blood,and feathers she was still quite a fair woman. And he guessed played well with the men enough too. “Anyone else want to get their food now too, now that we have him with us?”
“It’s alright,” He started with a chuckle, “She’d probably make her way past me too, if I were in your position.” But Iseult didn’t linger beside him long. She quickly released his arm and turned to follow Polly towards a table, her gaze averted downward as to not meet his eyes along the way.
There was a wry smile on Eldin’s lips, an understanding that getting along with the group was going to take more than just a night at the inn along with a meal. Meeting eyes with the innkeeper once more, he raised a hand with two fingers raised. The other male quickly understood the sign that he was requesting two more drinks, and in about a minute, set two more cups of the golden liquor on the counter. Taking one in each hand, he turned around to walk towards the group on the table.
But Eldin was distracted by the sound of loud cheering from one side of the room. He turned his head towards the mess of squires and a few knights who decided to enjoy the show, to see Raisha being the center of attention. He couldn’t tell whether she was winning or losing from that distance, but the sour look on her face gaze him the impression that it was the latter. As entertaining as it may have been to join his fellow knights in their fun jests, he wasn’t a gambling man, nor would it seem proper for him to abandon his company as their host.
Joining them at the table, he set the two glasses down beside Iseult before even realizing that Ayesha had also snuck herself in. Unaware of her previous encounter with alcohol, he instinctively slid one of the glasses across the table towards her. The drink sloshed across the lip of the container, spilling to drip in the slightest over the sides of the mug, before landing just a few inches away from the edge of the table in front of Ayesha.
“So you’ll likely either be right beside, or right behind me,” Eldin added to Ayesha’s statement. “I don’t have an extremely hefty amount of knowledge in magic, but I’m pretty wieldy of my mace. Not much past sheer overwhelming numbers easily get past me, so between you and I we have that front covered.”
The topic was redirected in the slightest, when Polly expressed her gratitude for the drink. “It’s my pleasure. A drink is the least I can do for at least taking up the mantle in accompanying me. I can treat you all again when we make it back.” He replied with high hopes, attempting to keep the attitude rather light-hearted in comparison. “By the looks of that stunt you pulled with that..” He started to say, before a puzzled expression caused a furling of his brows together. He raised the back of his hand to his face until his knuckle was kissed against his lips, and two fingers wiggled in a slithering motion. “...tongue thing, you did. A mage?” He asked.
His attention was pulled from the Nebosi when Fritz joined them, with another drink in hand. He quietly took the seat beside Eldin, the seat he himself had intended to take, but maintained a solemn expression with only his eyes following the group and their antics. Eldin didn’t know Fritz well, but it was easily a different expression compared to the rather stoic introduction he had made earlier. He put the thought aside, making a mental note to inquire about it with the other squire later.
It was about then that another bout of loud cheering erupted from the other side of the room, and before Eldin could crane his head in that direction to find out what and why such a new wave of noise had been created, Raisha began to stumble her way towards the table with another drink in hand. Taking the seat between Ayesha and Polly, the look on her face was far different from the one of bitterness she had worn earlier.
“And it sounds like you’re a fan favorite..” He rose his own mug of ale in toast, before taking a large swig of the drink down his throat. “Now that we’re all here, someone remind me that we need to all make a trip down to the barracks before we leave in the morning.” Eldin started to explain, “I thought we’d do that earlier so that we could leave here bright and early, but seems a few of us were too eager to join the festivities here at the inn.” His eyes darted in Raisha’s direction, not so subtly making an inference as to why. “And not sure if the barkeep explained it to you two when you got here, but a meal and your keys for the night are with him,” He repeated to Ayesha and Raisha, seeing as how they had not been with the group when he made the announcement, “So just ask him for a set when you’re ready to call it a night. I’ll do a set of rounds and knock on the doors in the morning, but I imagine you all will be ready and waiting outside by dawn.”
As he finished explaining the plan for the morning, an arm of Raisha’s shoulder placed a porcelain dish in front of her. A browned, roasted hen, stuffed with an assortment of greens and sliced mushrooms and onions. It lay on a bed of disked potatoes, dressed in a rich brown gravy. Another plate placed beside the first, a ¾ inch slice of venison with what appeared to be a spoonful of a a red sauce peeking out from one edge. “The second one is on the boy sitting on the counter up there, said to tell you he’s had enough to drink for the night anyway.” The barkeep gestured towards Aldur sitting at the edge of the bar, where after a glance and smile in Raisha’s direction he continued to chatter with another squire that was seated beside him.
Eldin didn’t know how Raisha had managed to make so many friends in the short time since they left the barracks, which couldn’t have been more than an hour and a half by now. But he also didn’t blame them. Even with the mud, blood,and feathers she was still quite a fair woman. And he guessed played well with the men enough too. “Anyone else want to get their food now too, now that we have him with us?”
The Justicar Quest
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
Pai Chan
Elder Member
Raisha waved a hand at the barkeep. “While you’re here, can you top me off?” She says before downing the rest of her mug on the spot and handing it over to him. She glanced off in the direction of Aldur, who had bought her second plate, and grumbled to herself.
“I don’t see any other time that would be more suitable to discuss our potential chemistry.” Ayesha chimed in. “I wouldn’t want to step on your toes, mid battle, because I don't know your positioning preference during a fight.”
Ayesha then turned towards the barkeep. “I’ll have your most balanced meal for a warrior.” Pushing the mug of beer towards Raisha, she added “And I'll just have another round of cranberry juice to top it off.” The so-called ‘nerve settling drink’ didn’t seem to quite be working its magic on the woman and Ayesha was more than happy to get rid of hers.
Without thinking twice, Raisha grabbed Ayesha’s mug and took a long swig. “Simple. My position is whatever gets the job done. Don’t worry about getting in my way.” She chuckles to herself. “No one here will be doing that.”
“Well, you can’t be in multiple places at once.” Ayesha responded with a smirk. “And we have a team to have each other's backs.” Her smile suddenly faded and she leaned forward with a look of seriousness. “You can’t be in more than one place, can you?”
Raisha looked Ayesha up and down with a humorless expression. Then, suddenly, she let out a low, hearty cackle. Her teeth glistened in the candlelight as she reared her head back. Her body whips upright and she slammed her mug, or rather Ayesha’s mug, onto the table. “I don’t need to be in more places at once, merghaul,” she took one of her axes, and juggled it for a moment. “I’ve got these to do the job for me.”
From the corner of the table, Iseult subtly rolled her eyes at the conversation taking place. As a mage - from her appearance, what else could she be? - it did not take a genius to figure out where she would be should they come across any hostile encounters in the coming weeks.
“I believe my qualifications make me a mage, though I’ve no formal training!” Polly said, in response to the several questions that had been posited at her. “Jeremiah’s qualifications make him a useless sack that drains us of food and water.” Jeremiah turned to face her in his bowl, splashing more water onto the table, and croaked in a way that, despite not being a form of language, had the sound of the vilest of curse words. “But ve love him anyway!” Polly said, scratching his head fondly with a finger, “Even if he has a foul mouth!” Looking back at the rest of the group, she smiled to see Iseult using her notebook. She took out her own ‘Party’ notebook and quickly jotted down
Handwriting neat. Suggests formal education. On Iseult’s page, before turning to Raisha’s and adding,
Dismissed honest inquiry on Ayesha’s part to boast. Braggadocious? Speaks another language? Not one I recognized, though I’m not a linguistics scholar, to be fair.
She looked up as the bartender left, and realized she hadn’t ordered any food. With a shrug, Polly reached into her bag, unstoppered her flask, and let her tongue unfurl, reaching into the jar to scoop up several insects, before she pulled her tongue back into her mouth and began to chew. One of the bugs, a spider that looked like it had lost a few legs to the roiling mass of hostile insects in the jar, fell onto the table as it was enroute from jar to mouth and attempted to scuttle to freedom. Jeremiah snatched it up with his own tongue before it got more than a few centimeters.
Ayesha looked on, in disbelief, at her fellow Nebosi as the disgusting act took place.
“And I lost my appetite.” Ayesha said as she started stepping out from the table. “I’ll just eat tomorrow. Without the distraction of bugs on the table.” Ayesha tried a strained smile as she made her way to the bartender to cancel her order. To her surprise, the food was already prepared and he allowed Ayesha to take her meal to her room.
“See you all bright and early!” Ayesha called out, turning a few heads, while waving with her free hand, at her comrades.
Raisha was finishing her meal with gusto. Her stomach finally had something to busy itself with that day and a second mug awaited her. She was, in fact, reaching out for her drink when she heard the Nebosi woman muttering to herself. Idle curiosity turned to confusion and that turned into incredulity. Raisha gave the frog woman a hard, long stare, then looked back at her drink. Just like that, she was sober again. She exhaled and stood up from her chair. “I think I’ll turn in,” she said. Suddenly, the prospect of having a bed to sleep in was irresistible. It was quite clear just how bored she had gotten. No matter, tomorrow promised to be more interesting, but as far as bargoing went, all she cared for was reckless decision-making. No one in the group seemed to take to that. Disappointing to say the least. “I’ll see the lot of you tomorrow,” she grabbed her mug and made her way back towards her room.
Iseult stared at Polly for a moment with a look of bewilderment, then shifted uncomfortably in her seat, moving a couple inches away from the Nebosi woman in the process. She then turned to Eldin and Fritz, curiosity in her eyes masking the contemplation taking place behind them. "Why a Justicar?" She wrote on the page before sliding it over for them to read.
“I don’t see any other time that would be more suitable to discuss our potential chemistry.” Ayesha chimed in. “I wouldn’t want to step on your toes, mid battle, because I don't know your positioning preference during a fight.”
Ayesha then turned towards the barkeep. “I’ll have your most balanced meal for a warrior.” Pushing the mug of beer towards Raisha, she added “And I'll just have another round of cranberry juice to top it off.” The so-called ‘nerve settling drink’ didn’t seem to quite be working its magic on the woman and Ayesha was more than happy to get rid of hers.
Without thinking twice, Raisha grabbed Ayesha’s mug and took a long swig. “Simple. My position is whatever gets the job done. Don’t worry about getting in my way.” She chuckles to herself. “No one here will be doing that.”
“Well, you can’t be in multiple places at once.” Ayesha responded with a smirk. “And we have a team to have each other's backs.” Her smile suddenly faded and she leaned forward with a look of seriousness. “You can’t be in more than one place, can you?”
Raisha looked Ayesha up and down with a humorless expression. Then, suddenly, she let out a low, hearty cackle. Her teeth glistened in the candlelight as she reared her head back. Her body whips upright and she slammed her mug, or rather Ayesha’s mug, onto the table. “I don’t need to be in more places at once, merghaul,” she took one of her axes, and juggled it for a moment. “I’ve got these to do the job for me.”
From the corner of the table, Iseult subtly rolled her eyes at the conversation taking place. As a mage - from her appearance, what else could she be? - it did not take a genius to figure out where she would be should they come across any hostile encounters in the coming weeks.
“I believe my qualifications make me a mage, though I’ve no formal training!” Polly said, in response to the several questions that had been posited at her. “Jeremiah’s qualifications make him a useless sack that drains us of food and water.” Jeremiah turned to face her in his bowl, splashing more water onto the table, and croaked in a way that, despite not being a form of language, had the sound of the vilest of curse words. “But ve love him anyway!” Polly said, scratching his head fondly with a finger, “Even if he has a foul mouth!” Looking back at the rest of the group, she smiled to see Iseult using her notebook. She took out her own ‘Party’ notebook and quickly jotted down
Handwriting neat. Suggests formal education. On Iseult’s page, before turning to Raisha’s and adding,
Dismissed honest inquiry on Ayesha’s part to boast. Braggadocious? Speaks another language? Not one I recognized, though I’m not a linguistics scholar, to be fair.
She looked up as the bartender left, and realized she hadn’t ordered any food. With a shrug, Polly reached into her bag, unstoppered her flask, and let her tongue unfurl, reaching into the jar to scoop up several insects, before she pulled her tongue back into her mouth and began to chew. One of the bugs, a spider that looked like it had lost a few legs to the roiling mass of hostile insects in the jar, fell onto the table as it was enroute from jar to mouth and attempted to scuttle to freedom. Jeremiah snatched it up with his own tongue before it got more than a few centimeters.
Ayesha looked on, in disbelief, at her fellow Nebosi as the disgusting act took place.
“And I lost my appetite.” Ayesha said as she started stepping out from the table. “I’ll just eat tomorrow. Without the distraction of bugs on the table.” Ayesha tried a strained smile as she made her way to the bartender to cancel her order. To her surprise, the food was already prepared and he allowed Ayesha to take her meal to her room.
“See you all bright and early!” Ayesha called out, turning a few heads, while waving with her free hand, at her comrades.
Raisha was finishing her meal with gusto. Her stomach finally had something to busy itself with that day and a second mug awaited her. She was, in fact, reaching out for her drink when she heard the Nebosi woman muttering to herself. Idle curiosity turned to confusion and that turned into incredulity. Raisha gave the frog woman a hard, long stare, then looked back at her drink. Just like that, she was sober again. She exhaled and stood up from her chair. “I think I’ll turn in,” she said. Suddenly, the prospect of having a bed to sleep in was irresistible. It was quite clear just how bored she had gotten. No matter, tomorrow promised to be more interesting, but as far as bargoing went, all she cared for was reckless decision-making. No one in the group seemed to take to that. Disappointing to say the least. “I’ll see the lot of you tomorrow,” she grabbed her mug and made her way back towards her room.
Iseult stared at Polly for a moment with a look of bewilderment, then shifted uncomfortably in her seat, moving a couple inches away from the Nebosi woman in the process. She then turned to Eldin and Fritz, curiosity in her eyes masking the contemplation taking place behind them. "Why a Justicar?" She wrote on the page before sliding it over for them to read.
SentinelSevn
Professional Coffee Addict
Eldin could only watch in curiosity as the long appendage from the Nebosi’s mouth reached into the outstretched jar of insects, twirling around a tongue-ful before retracting back between Polly’s lips. His eyebrows furled together as he tried to suppress a grimace, and he drowned the noises of disgust his stomach was making by taking another swig of the ale in his hands.
And he obviously wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Ayesha didn’t take any more than a minute before quickly rising from her seat at the table. Despite her sitting across the table from Polly, she was rather blunt in Polly’s actions being the reason she no longer wanted to dine with the rest of them. And she was just as hasty in her departure, briskly walking towards the counter where a brief, inaudible conversation between her and the barkeep occured. You couldn’t tell from where the rest of them were sitting what it was they were talking about, but a good guess was made when the food that she had ordered was handed to her from the counter. Ayesha called out her goodbyes towards them from where she stood, and Eldin raised his pitcher in acknowledgement before Ayesha turned to make her way up towards the steps in her room.
Raisha did not fall far behind her. Eldin couldn’t tell whether the stare that she gave Polly was one of outright shock, or a glare of irritation in the Nebosi’s lack of consideration. He didn’t blame Raisha though, the closest thing that Eldin could compare it to would be talking about how you recently slew a foe and wouldn’t stop babbling about how you revealed their insides for the world to see, while the rest of the party was hands-deep in the firepit-roasted wild hog your huntsman decided to catch. To the thin stomached, it was down-right disgusting. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised Raisha of all people couldn’t stomach the idea of eating insects. With only his brief interactions with the group to base any assumptions, Raisha was definitely a close second, only to Polly, of who was more exposed to the harsh truths of the wilderness and the world.
Eldin raised his mug once more, as Raisha also took her leave to disappear up the steps of the inn. From there, the table was left with only four of the party left. Four and a half, if they wanted to count Jeremiah in any of the celebrations. He waited a moment for either Iseult and Fritz to turn in for the night, and watched as the mute soon began to scribble quickly in a small notebook before sliding it between the two men.
“Why a Justicar?” She wrote. Eldin sent a glance in Fritz’s direction, before taking a liberty in answering the question himself.
“Uh, let me see..” Eldin started, leaning back to take a more relaxed, slouched position in his chair. “I was picked up by Sir Wallace as a squire when I was around eleven… He hailed from a town neighboring mine, so he actually took a keen eye to me as he was making his way back from Ironcrown to here.” He raised the mug of ale to his lips before realizing that it was empty, setting it down and deciding that perhaps that should be all he drinks for the night if they were to still leave bright and early. “He told me that I looked rather skilled for my age, and with my parents’ blessing, squired me and took me here to train, and I’ve been here ever since.”
It was a rather brief recollection of his story, but all the rigorous days on end of training probably wasn’t anything in particular of note. Perhaps some campfire stories about how he had slain his first beast, but nothing to tell over the table of people who clearly weren’t the hack and slash type. “I wasn’t drawn to the Justicars for their instillment of justice or anything from a young age, just that I am damn good with a weapon in my hand,” he stated, followed with a chuckle.
“But I believe I will be following our friends Raisha and Ayesha, and calling it a night.” He said before rising from his seat. “I do intend to be waiting at the Olive’s front steps at dawn, certainly without having to knock anybody’s doors down for over-drinking and sleeping in. So sleep well, you three. And I’m sure you will have plenty of opportunities to get a more elaborated exposition of my life throughout our month’s time together, Miss Iseult. Polly, I do hope those are as nutritious as rumor tells, but I don’t intend to have any unless we become stuck in the skirk caves with nothing but rocks and gravel as my other option. Fritz, perhaps I’ll see you before lights out at the barracks?” And with his departing words towards the remainder of the party, he closed with a slight bow of the head before turning towards the exit of the Olive, and disappearing from view.
And he obviously wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Ayesha didn’t take any more than a minute before quickly rising from her seat at the table. Despite her sitting across the table from Polly, she was rather blunt in Polly’s actions being the reason she no longer wanted to dine with the rest of them. And she was just as hasty in her departure, briskly walking towards the counter where a brief, inaudible conversation between her and the barkeep occured. You couldn’t tell from where the rest of them were sitting what it was they were talking about, but a good guess was made when the food that she had ordered was handed to her from the counter. Ayesha called out her goodbyes towards them from where she stood, and Eldin raised his pitcher in acknowledgement before Ayesha turned to make her way up towards the steps in her room.
Raisha did not fall far behind her. Eldin couldn’t tell whether the stare that she gave Polly was one of outright shock, or a glare of irritation in the Nebosi’s lack of consideration. He didn’t blame Raisha though, the closest thing that Eldin could compare it to would be talking about how you recently slew a foe and wouldn’t stop babbling about how you revealed their insides for the world to see, while the rest of the party was hands-deep in the firepit-roasted wild hog your huntsman decided to catch. To the thin stomached, it was down-right disgusting. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised Raisha of all people couldn’t stomach the idea of eating insects. With only his brief interactions with the group to base any assumptions, Raisha was definitely a close second, only to Polly, of who was more exposed to the harsh truths of the wilderness and the world.
Eldin raised his mug once more, as Raisha also took her leave to disappear up the steps of the inn. From there, the table was left with only four of the party left. Four and a half, if they wanted to count Jeremiah in any of the celebrations. He waited a moment for either Iseult and Fritz to turn in for the night, and watched as the mute soon began to scribble quickly in a small notebook before sliding it between the two men.
“Why a Justicar?” She wrote. Eldin sent a glance in Fritz’s direction, before taking a liberty in answering the question himself.
“Uh, let me see..” Eldin started, leaning back to take a more relaxed, slouched position in his chair. “I was picked up by Sir Wallace as a squire when I was around eleven… He hailed from a town neighboring mine, so he actually took a keen eye to me as he was making his way back from Ironcrown to here.” He raised the mug of ale to his lips before realizing that it was empty, setting it down and deciding that perhaps that should be all he drinks for the night if they were to still leave bright and early. “He told me that I looked rather skilled for my age, and with my parents’ blessing, squired me and took me here to train, and I’ve been here ever since.”
It was a rather brief recollection of his story, but all the rigorous days on end of training probably wasn’t anything in particular of note. Perhaps some campfire stories about how he had slain his first beast, but nothing to tell over the table of people who clearly weren’t the hack and slash type. “I wasn’t drawn to the Justicars for their instillment of justice or anything from a young age, just that I am damn good with a weapon in my hand,” he stated, followed with a chuckle.
“But I believe I will be following our friends Raisha and Ayesha, and calling it a night.” He said before rising from his seat. “I do intend to be waiting at the Olive’s front steps at dawn, certainly without having to knock anybody’s doors down for over-drinking and sleeping in. So sleep well, you three. And I’m sure you will have plenty of opportunities to get a more elaborated exposition of my life throughout our month’s time together, Miss Iseult. Polly, I do hope those are as nutritious as rumor tells, but I don’t intend to have any unless we become stuck in the skirk caves with nothing but rocks and gravel as my other option. Fritz, perhaps I’ll see you before lights out at the barracks?” And with his departing words towards the remainder of the party, he closed with a slight bow of the head before turning towards the exit of the Olive, and disappearing from view.
The Justicar Quest
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Character Participants:
- Iseult Nihar
Saturn_moon
- Ayesha Laghmani
Pai Chan
- Fritz Kaslan
EMIYAman
- Jeanne Beaune Jacque "Bonesy"
sheesh
- Pollyanna Ziegler "Polly"
Fred Colon
- Raisha de Belle
A.I.S.H.A.
Current NPCs in play:
- Sir Wallace - Justicar Knight
Current Characters Killed:
NA... for now
NA... for now
