JokerValentine
We Out
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Fantasy To Akilter Aishitol's Lofty Pedestals(Featuring ya boi and Meredith)
- Thread starter JokerValentine
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- fantasy
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
Aishital is a keep formerly ruled by the High King (now passed) which serves as the capital of Zekinole. Since the takeover of the continent, it has had its share of rebellions, though the death of the former King around fifteen years ago had stemmed the tide. The Cestoni have been in power here for nearly twenty years now, and have managed to establish a puppet government, a group of career politicians easily blackmailed and otherwise influenced.
The Cestoni is a conquering power who took control of Aishital around twenty years ago.
They believe that the worship of 'dark' Gods is inherently immoral and should thus be forbidden. These gods include, but are not limited to: Ethanol, the Goddess of thieves; Nocturnal, the Goddess of darkness; and Kroak, the God of time.
Worship of these gods and many more has been forbidden in a bid to rid the kingdom of all evil - the Cestoni regard themselves as a sort of missionary force - though they use threats and brute force to silence those that oppose them.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
Devon Payne
Female - 24 - Thief
Devon has spent most of her life lying, cheating, and stealing. She has an unwavering proficiency in all forms of pickpocking and disguise. Most find her decently pleasant, if coarse, but her nerves give her more trouble than she knows how to deal with.Female - 24 - Thief
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JokerValentine
We Out
James Stone
Male, 25, Sellsword
Basic information: James is a bastard son, thus explaining his low position in society. As a result of his unnoble birth, he was given up as a baby to rural hermits. A mother took pity on him and raised him, but such love was not enough to rectify his behavior. To get by, the sellsword peddles his skills in tracking, hunting, and spying.
Male, 25, Sellsword
Basic information: James is a bastard son, thus explaining his low position in society. As a result of his unnoble birth, he was given up as a baby to rural hermits. A mother took pity on him and raised him, but such love was not enough to rectify his behavior. To get by, the sellsword peddles his skills in tracking, hunting, and spying.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
Her bed was wet.
Drip. Drip. Drip...
She sighed, turned her head, angling her gaze to catch the candlelight wandering through the slatted ceiling. She supposed silently that some drunkard has spilt his mead, his wine, his favored liquor. She heard laughter as someone above swore, cursing his luck, or his impaired reflexes
The barmaid did not walk over to clean the mess. It would dry on the floor, content to sit until there came a day where some poor lad or lass was hired to take care of odd jobs, being told first to clean the bar and then the floor.
Devon pushed her cloak from on top of her, eyes catching on her amulet in the darkness, a cool silver flash surrounded by a sea of tan and brown. Her hand rose to finger it, a smile starting to form on her lips, before she shoved it back in her shirt and clipped it to the inside of her collar with a scowl.
That was risky. Too risky.
She peered up, noting the thick boots still standing above her, and more grimly the mark carved into the sole. A bastard. A traitorous guard that - no.
She shoved the anger back into herself, much as she had the amulet, willing it to clear her foggy mind. The hay below her rustled, and looking down she swore she had seen a mouse, but she refused to let that bother her. Her rest had came, good and proper, and she awoke in the early hours of the morning. Lariah's charity had done her well.
Standing, Devon stretched, fingertips reaching close to those feet despite her height. Absently, she thought it would be awful to be tall in one of these rooms, though if you were here to sleep and plan it wouldn't likely matter much.
She slung her bag across her back, checking the buttons of her faded red blouse to be sure they were done up, and bringing her cloak overtop. Her bag rested on the small of her back, making it less obvious against the flowing cape, as her form became difficult to discern from behind She checked next the dagger at her hip, and the one holstered in her boot, satisfied after a moment that her things were in order.
She made her way through a tunnel and ignored the other offshoots, climbing up into an inn-room that was always treated as if it were occupied although it lacked a patron, and pushing past the bed (though not before messing up the sheets as if it had once held an occupant) to the door.
Listening, she was satisfied there was nobody in the hallway, and turned the doorknob with a click.
Her footsteps were not quiet, but stayed nearly impossible to hear against the noise of the bar, which satisfied her.
She stepped into the open, knowing Lariah had long since went to bed, and that her apprentice (if you could call a young barmaid such) was working the till. The girl smiled, seemingly welcome to company, and Devon sat at a barstool close to her.
"You got any eggs? I'm not sure your hens will be laying yet this morning, but I'm fine with yesterday's, if they're still around." Wiping her hair out of her face (and wishing she had a ribbon to tie the silvery blond mess back with), she paused to consider her options. "Maybe a glass of mead, too. Something light."
"Oh! Of course, yes, I think we've got an egg or two in the pantry, though of course I could be wrong..."
Devon nodded, pressed a gold piece into the girl's hand, and pushed herself away from the bar. She moved to sit in the back corner, where she could see the full room, the firelit and smoky tavern with few remaining customers.
The guard had seemed to fall asleep; Devon ignored him, content that she would not be bothered, but failed to find anything interesting to look at. The girl brought Devon's glass of mead, and was gone before she could be thanked, which was fine. All seemed quiet as the sun rose. It never lasted that way, really.
Drip. Drip. Drip...
She sighed, turned her head, angling her gaze to catch the candlelight wandering through the slatted ceiling. She supposed silently that some drunkard has spilt his mead, his wine, his favored liquor. She heard laughter as someone above swore, cursing his luck, or his impaired reflexes
The barmaid did not walk over to clean the mess. It would dry on the floor, content to sit until there came a day where some poor lad or lass was hired to take care of odd jobs, being told first to clean the bar and then the floor.
Devon pushed her cloak from on top of her, eyes catching on her amulet in the darkness, a cool silver flash surrounded by a sea of tan and brown. Her hand rose to finger it, a smile starting to form on her lips, before she shoved it back in her shirt and clipped it to the inside of her collar with a scowl.
That was risky. Too risky.
She peered up, noting the thick boots still standing above her, and more grimly the mark carved into the sole. A bastard. A traitorous guard that - no.
She shoved the anger back into herself, much as she had the amulet, willing it to clear her foggy mind. The hay below her rustled, and looking down she swore she had seen a mouse, but she refused to let that bother her. Her rest had came, good and proper, and she awoke in the early hours of the morning. Lariah's charity had done her well.
Standing, Devon stretched, fingertips reaching close to those feet despite her height. Absently, she thought it would be awful to be tall in one of these rooms, though if you were here to sleep and plan it wouldn't likely matter much.
She slung her bag across her back, checking the buttons of her faded red blouse to be sure they were done up, and bringing her cloak overtop. Her bag rested on the small of her back, making it less obvious against the flowing cape, as her form became difficult to discern from behind She checked next the dagger at her hip, and the one holstered in her boot, satisfied after a moment that her things were in order.
She made her way through a tunnel and ignored the other offshoots, climbing up into an inn-room that was always treated as if it were occupied although it lacked a patron, and pushing past the bed (though not before messing up the sheets as if it had once held an occupant) to the door.
Listening, she was satisfied there was nobody in the hallway, and turned the doorknob with a click.
Her footsteps were not quiet, but stayed nearly impossible to hear against the noise of the bar, which satisfied her.
She stepped into the open, knowing Lariah had long since went to bed, and that her apprentice (if you could call a young barmaid such) was working the till. The girl smiled, seemingly welcome to company, and Devon sat at a barstool close to her.
"You got any eggs? I'm not sure your hens will be laying yet this morning, but I'm fine with yesterday's, if they're still around." Wiping her hair out of her face (and wishing she had a ribbon to tie the silvery blond mess back with), she paused to consider her options. "Maybe a glass of mead, too. Something light."
"Oh! Of course, yes, I think we've got an egg or two in the pantry, though of course I could be wrong..."
Devon nodded, pressed a gold piece into the girl's hand, and pushed herself away from the bar. She moved to sit in the back corner, where she could see the full room, the firelit and smoky tavern with few remaining customers.
The guard had seemed to fall asleep; Devon ignored him, content that she would not be bothered, but failed to find anything interesting to look at. The girl brought Devon's glass of mead, and was gone before she could be thanked, which was fine. All seemed quiet as the sun rose. It never lasted that way, really.
JokerValentine
We Out
Such seedy bars, perhaps a former brothel by the rather disgusting look of it all, seemed rather fitting for an occurrence of this tale. It was perhaps never too late for one last drink, however late it was. far from any sort of familiar alley to rest his head, James stationed his horse at the stables and casually made his way to the door. He had ridden since morning, from some distance so very far away. He knew not of this area, carrying only with him his mission, some money, some food, and the clothes he wore. Well, his equipment too. But to the average man, he looked to be a lesser noble. After all, who still rode horses in these terrible times? As a matter of fact, he had stolen it, treated it well by feeding it from place to place. And such was how he traveled, and so he behaved.
Entering the poorly lit bar, to him at least, James eyed the patrons of the seedy establishment. Either tired, destitute, or perhaps lonely, it was a place one such as this assassin did not like to frequent. But he was not to put his own opinions into the world. This was indeed a place reserved for deceit, treachery, and false kindness. He made his way to the table quietly, seeing the lady having just returned from the pantry. "House mead," James lazily demanded, putting on the bar a crappy silver coin. It was surely better than the imperial gold he had in his bag. The silver piece should've been more than enough for a cup of the most foul alcohol in the kingdom. "Do tell me that there is room here for the night, by the way. I require a bed and stable."
Of course, as to why such a man would require a room, nobody would be able to guess. He was on his way to Aishitol, but given that this man could not read well, found it hard to navigate to the capital. He feels that he has arrived, but given his tired state does not know too well of his location. But it was better to trust nobody in this place. Everyone wanted your head, either for your politics, your rivalry, or your money. A great danger that has been seen before by James, and by no means was he at all stupid.
The name of the game was to blend in. Attract no attention, make no mistake, all that typical stuff. He would not dare confront anyone unless confronted. He would sleep for five hours, and then leave on foot. He;d probably leave the horse as a gift. He had not much use for the horse, after all. But his thought had crossed his mind that he had forgotten about the drink he had paid for. He patiently awaited it. "My drink, madam," he insisted again.
Entering the poorly lit bar, to him at least, James eyed the patrons of the seedy establishment. Either tired, destitute, or perhaps lonely, it was a place one such as this assassin did not like to frequent. But he was not to put his own opinions into the world. This was indeed a place reserved for deceit, treachery, and false kindness. He made his way to the table quietly, seeing the lady having just returned from the pantry. "House mead," James lazily demanded, putting on the bar a crappy silver coin. It was surely better than the imperial gold he had in his bag. The silver piece should've been more than enough for a cup of the most foul alcohol in the kingdom. "Do tell me that there is room here for the night, by the way. I require a bed and stable."
Of course, as to why such a man would require a room, nobody would be able to guess. He was on his way to Aishitol, but given that this man could not read well, found it hard to navigate to the capital. He feels that he has arrived, but given his tired state does not know too well of his location. But it was better to trust nobody in this place. Everyone wanted your head, either for your politics, your rivalry, or your money. A great danger that has been seen before by James, and by no means was he at all stupid.
The name of the game was to blend in. Attract no attention, make no mistake, all that typical stuff. He would not dare confront anyone unless confronted. He would sleep for five hours, and then leave on foot. He;d probably leave the horse as a gift. He had not much use for the horse, after all. But his thought had crossed his mind that he had forgotten about the drink he had paid for. He patiently awaited it. "My drink, madam," he insisted again.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
"One second!! One second, I, I've got some food on and it's going to burn..." The barkeep turned around, hurriedly flipping the egg in the pan, and throwing a dash of what might have been pepper at one point onto its dry side. She took her sweet time, Devon thought from across the room, wondering to herself how the relatively young and naive girl had not been hurt in her duty.
The barkeep almost frowned, eying the man's change, taking it quickly and reaching underneath the bar to grab a small bottle of bottom shelf. She slammed it down on the counter, knowing full well she was underpaid, but hesitant to start an argument over such a small sum. Her eyes flicked over the patrons of the bar, locking for a split second with Devon's.
The thief took up her mead, treading over the the bar, and taking up a stool one or two spaces over from the man. She turned her head and flashed a lazy smile.
Her eyes traveled from the bottle in the man's hand to the copper on the table. Looking up to the barmaid, she took a silver from her pocket, sliding it across the bar. It more than covered the his piss-poor drink.
The barmaid struggled with the egg, managing to get it onto her plate, and thumping it down beside Devon. "There, sweets, enough for a working woman." She gave Devon a wink, but the thief shrugged it off, dipping her head to examine her food.
"Good enough, Eliza. Has this boy been bothering you?"
She turned her head again to look more directly at the man aside her.
The barkeep almost frowned, eying the man's change, taking it quickly and reaching underneath the bar to grab a small bottle of bottom shelf. She slammed it down on the counter, knowing full well she was underpaid, but hesitant to start an argument over such a small sum. Her eyes flicked over the patrons of the bar, locking for a split second with Devon's.
The thief took up her mead, treading over the the bar, and taking up a stool one or two spaces over from the man. She turned her head and flashed a lazy smile.
Her eyes traveled from the bottle in the man's hand to the copper on the table. Looking up to the barmaid, she took a silver from her pocket, sliding it across the bar. It more than covered the his piss-poor drink.
The barmaid struggled with the egg, managing to get it onto her plate, and thumping it down beside Devon. "There, sweets, enough for a working woman." She gave Devon a wink, but the thief shrugged it off, dipping her head to examine her food.
"Good enough, Eliza. Has this boy been bothering you?"
She turned her head again to look more directly at the man aside her.
JokerValentine
We Out
And all of a sudden things seemed more tense than they should've been. James thought he had paid his fair share. Indeed he really did, but the lass was less than pleased. Of course, this brought attention to him, from another patron who seemed way too friendly to the cook than was considered not suspicious. Possibly a regular, possibly the rumors about this place could've been true. Maybe they were the elusive rebels that he was tasked with locating.
James did not appreciate being talked of as if he weren't there. Did they not see him at all? "Am I so bothersome for a weary traveler? I have been here not one moment and I am suddenly bothersome. I paid my fair share, and all I ask for is some mead. Madam, if you have qualms address them to me as if I am here." Such a word choice gave him the impression of a simple man, not a low-level tracker. If he could pull this off, hopefully he could get away from this. "Madam I am so sorry if my patronage offends you. I have no money to spare. It is better than nothing, is it not?"
The man took a sip of the foul liquid, and nearly gagged in disapproval. but he attempted to pretend that this beverage was stomachable. Clearly the tend used spit and horse shit as a base for the drink. He could've made better mead if he gouged his own eyes out first. "Now, maybe you ought to introduce yourself, girl."
James did not appreciate being talked of as if he weren't there. Did they not see him at all? "Am I so bothersome for a weary traveler? I have been here not one moment and I am suddenly bothersome. I paid my fair share, and all I ask for is some mead. Madam, if you have qualms address them to me as if I am here." Such a word choice gave him the impression of a simple man, not a low-level tracker. If he could pull this off, hopefully he could get away from this. "Madam I am so sorry if my patronage offends you. I have no money to spare. It is better than nothing, is it not?"
The man took a sip of the foul liquid, and nearly gagged in disapproval. but he attempted to pretend that this beverage was stomachable. Clearly the tend used spit and horse shit as a base for the drink. He could've made better mead if he gouged his own eyes out first. "Now, maybe you ought to introduce yourself, girl."
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
The barmaid suddenly looked flustered, taking a bit of a breath, and keeping her eyes on the man in front of her. "Not bothersome, not at all, sir. Of course it's just that the house mead is preferable to any sort of bottom shelf drink, and we want to serve you well, and..." She trailed off, letting her hands reset on the bar, feeling the grain of the wood.
Devon smiled, stretching her arms in front of her, feeling anxiety pulse in her throat and chest but choosing to ignore it. "As long as you don't have your fun with it, sir, as my name cannot place me in cruck nor castle." She took another swig of her drink, letting it down on the bar with a knock, and bringing forward her hand to shake the man's.
"Devon. My name is Devon, or Dev, but Devon proper. What might your name be?"
It was becoming light outside, and the city was stirring with activity, with merchant carts entering the city for the morning. Everything seemed much more alive, in the morning, if nothing else due to the city's release from sleep.
Devon smiled, stretching her arms in front of her, feeling anxiety pulse in her throat and chest but choosing to ignore it. "As long as you don't have your fun with it, sir, as my name cannot place me in cruck nor castle." She took another swig of her drink, letting it down on the bar with a knock, and bringing forward her hand to shake the man's.
"Devon. My name is Devon, or Dev, but Devon proper. What might your name be?"
It was becoming light outside, and the city was stirring with activity, with merchant carts entering the city for the morning. Everything seemed much more alive, in the morning, if nothing else due to the city's release from sleep.
JokerValentine
We Out
"Edwin, or if you prefe save your breath 'Ed,'" lied the tracker, as he put on a rather convincing grin. Again, he took a sip of the acerbic, disgusting mead, perhaps forgetting how disgusting it truly was. He found himself drinking this gulp easier than the previous. He put his mug aside for a moment, wanting to know a bit more about this environment. Still, he kept his distance from involvement.
As the man noticed the early morning sun, he immediately knew that he was definitely in Aishitol, based off of the distance he covered. "Now, forgive my intrusion, but it is very uncommon for a lady such as yourself to be here through the night. And by the looks of it, very little to drink at that. The only types of people who spend so much in one sitting are maybe highborn or thieves. Surely one is more... preferable than the next."
A very subtle jab at the nature of the people he was seeking, the man tried to appear sympathetic to her cause. He again flashed a convincing smile in her direction, one of comfort, of deceit. He was perhaps very good at both.
As the man noticed the early morning sun, he immediately knew that he was definitely in Aishitol, based off of the distance he covered. "Now, forgive my intrusion, but it is very uncommon for a lady such as yourself to be here through the night. And by the looks of it, very little to drink at that. The only types of people who spend so much in one sitting are maybe highborn or thieves. Surely one is more... preferable than the next."
A very subtle jab at the nature of the people he was seeking, the man tried to appear sympathetic to her cause. He again flashed a convincing smile in her direction, one of comfort, of deceit. He was perhaps very good at both.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
The bartender busied herself, moving to serve a young lad coming in for breakfast, and leaving the two alone.
Devon smiled. Her teeth were bared, almost threateningly, but she forced her shoulders down to relax. The noise of the town behind her made her feel, in a way, alive - the rustling of people, shouts of excited children, the idea that love and kindness and happiness could exist in the world in spite of oppression and hatred.
She slapped a silver and two copper pieces down on the bar, the rebel's pay, as little in the tavern was of that cost. She watched out of the corner of her eye to see if the man would recognize the combination, but let her mouth slide into a smirk, turning her full body to face him.
Reaching out toward his face, she took gentle hold of his chin, pulling it down to look into her eyes.
She glowered up, looking as playful as angry, letting her smile dance across her lips in a contrast to her furrowed brow. "Well, Edwin, my character is as much to me as any lady's herself; make no mistake, I am sure to be read despite my position, and so my rank at birth is none of your concern."
Keeping her hand on his chin and her body close, she attempted to slip the fingers of her left hand into the pocket where he had returned his wallet, speaking quietly in hopes he would lean closer to hear. "Are you interested in my profession?"
Devon smiled. Her teeth were bared, almost threateningly, but she forced her shoulders down to relax. The noise of the town behind her made her feel, in a way, alive - the rustling of people, shouts of excited children, the idea that love and kindness and happiness could exist in the world in spite of oppression and hatred.
She slapped a silver and two copper pieces down on the bar, the rebel's pay, as little in the tavern was of that cost. She watched out of the corner of her eye to see if the man would recognize the combination, but let her mouth slide into a smirk, turning her full body to face him.
Reaching out toward his face, she took gentle hold of his chin, pulling it down to look into her eyes.
She glowered up, looking as playful as angry, letting her smile dance across her lips in a contrast to her furrowed brow. "Well, Edwin, my character is as much to me as any lady's herself; make no mistake, I am sure to be read despite my position, and so my rank at birth is none of your concern."
Keeping her hand on his chin and her body close, she attempted to slip the fingers of her left hand into the pocket where he had returned his wallet, speaking quietly in hopes he would lean closer to hear. "Are you interested in my profession?"
JokerValentine
We Out
Now it would've been foolish to assume that someone so interesting could not be a thief. But this was not the type of story for James to foil the thievery. The currency she placed down on the table was no doubt an indicator that she was indeed a rebel. Again, the name of the game was to appear stupid. And so he leaned in close to the girl, pretending to be an unsuspecting fool. Of course, his hand too wormed his way into his lap, diagonal from her hand, as he too made way to her purse.
"Oh, most definitely. You are far too cute to be a wench, and far too short to be a soldier. But tell me, dear, how does a girl such as yourself get by in these... oh so terrible times?" He continued to smile, and appear to be an honest, hardworking, lawabiding man of the kingdom. But he was so much less than that. he only liked to pretend to be something better than he actually was, for he secretly loved the life he lived.
The man slowly made his advance as he moved in close, the girl perhaps too distracted by her own attempts at grabbing his wallet. It'd be a shame if he had stored a scorpion in his wallet. Wouldn't that be funny? Watching this thief of a rebel squirm in agony as the venom ran its course? Too bad there were none around here, for surely it would've been fun to see in action.
"Oh, most definitely. You are far too cute to be a wench, and far too short to be a soldier. But tell me, dear, how does a girl such as yourself get by in these... oh so terrible times?" He continued to smile, and appear to be an honest, hardworking, lawabiding man of the kingdom. But he was so much less than that. he only liked to pretend to be something better than he actually was, for he secretly loved the life he lived.
The man slowly made his advance as he moved in close, the girl perhaps too distracted by her own attempts at grabbing his wallet. It'd be a shame if he had stored a scorpion in his wallet. Wouldn't that be funny? Watching this thief of a rebel squirm in agony as the venom ran its course? Too bad there were none around here, for surely it would've been fun to see in action.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
She reached into his pocket, quickily worming out his coin-purse, and pulling her hands back quickly to drop it on the stool behind her as she pretended to stretch.
"Oh, I get around, you know. Odd jobs for nobility, for the less noble, a servant of the world."
Her eyes lit up, dancing with a fire at her mention of being a servant, not apt to get closer again. "I used to work as a serving-girl, you understand, but the love of life and charity is enough for any'ne these days. Life, charity, and the gods." She glanced over toward the door, checking for guards, and then towards the still-passed-out palace man.
"Some of us live our good life and follow our beliefs. It's not always appreciated in Aishitol."
She pulled her hands back, intent on stuffing his wallet into her pocket, and to get up. "Now. If you've not anything interesting, I'm off to work, boy."
"Oh, I get around, you know. Odd jobs for nobility, for the less noble, a servant of the world."
Her eyes lit up, dancing with a fire at her mention of being a servant, not apt to get closer again. "I used to work as a serving-girl, you understand, but the love of life and charity is enough for any'ne these days. Life, charity, and the gods." She glanced over toward the door, checking for guards, and then towards the still-passed-out palace man.
"Some of us live our good life and follow our beliefs. It's not always appreciated in Aishitol."
She pulled her hands back, intent on stuffing his wallet into her pocket, and to get up. "Now. If you've not anything interesting, I'm off to work, boy."
JokerValentine
We Out
Of course, he didn't move his hand, he didn't need to. As she stretched, her wallet came out of her pocket as well, and boy was it heavy. He took it rather clandestinely. A job well done. Surely he had less in his bag, he could tell by the weight of it. Maybe she carried her brain in there as well. But in a brief moment he would reveal it to her. The reuse was not yet up.
"Funny, how you mention the Gods. Surely you worship proper, and follow the word of the true ones," a gentle barb at her religion indeed. But what worth was it continuing a conversation at this rate? SHe was surely on edge about his presence. Her face read kindness, but her soul was fiery. But so was James, or Edwin now.
He saw his opportunity to make his intentions known "Oh, leaving so soon? And I was just getting to know you. It's a shame that the wallet you stole might just have poison on it, and only I have the antidote." He waited to see her reaction at this, a possible lie but may be a truth. How fun such things were.
"Funny, how you mention the Gods. Surely you worship proper, and follow the word of the true ones," a gentle barb at her religion indeed. But what worth was it continuing a conversation at this rate? SHe was surely on edge about his presence. Her face read kindness, but her soul was fiery. But so was James, or Edwin now.
He saw his opportunity to make his intentions known "Oh, leaving so soon? And I was just getting to know you. It's a shame that the wallet you stole might just have poison on it, and only I have the antidote." He waited to see her reaction at this, a possible lie but may be a truth. How fun such things were.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
She froze at his words, trying to force herself to act naturally, so as not to alert either Eliza or the guards walking past in a rather loud group on the street. Her eyes went hard at his mention of the 'true' gods, no longer friendly, though certainly full of rage.
"Might?"
She resisted the urge to throw herself at him, to try to rob him of this fabled antidote or to simply wring his neck, instead downing the rest of her mead and sliding off her stool. Looking around, she saw nobody watching, and snaked her hand around Edwin's wrist.
"I think we'd best get to your room and ask about what you'll be wanting. I wouldn't want to be regretting my decisions if I were you."
Looking up at him, she made little conscious effort to avoid hurting him, letting her nails dig into his arm.
"Might?"
She resisted the urge to throw herself at him, to try to rob him of this fabled antidote or to simply wring his neck, instead downing the rest of her mead and sliding off her stool. Looking around, she saw nobody watching, and snaked her hand around Edwin's wrist.
"I think we'd best get to your room and ask about what you'll be wanting. I wouldn't want to be regretting my decisions if I were you."
Looking up at him, she made little conscious effort to avoid hurting him, letting her nails dig into his arm.
JokerValentine
We Out
"Oh lady," the man said with a sincere accent, seeing that he had clearly struck a nerve, "I wouldn't dare want anything different. Please, be as so kind as to show me the way." He winced a little bit at her prods. A ferocious tiger, burying her nails into his skin as her eyes stood aflame.
"Because surely you would want to place your Rebel's Pay aside from the sight of the guards. I hear that people of our nature aren't looked upon with great respect." And alas the first card had fallen, a new character hath emerged rom the shadows. The "rebel" was no fool at all, and although he would love to deceive her further, the girl deserved at least the false feeling of honestly. At least she now knew who this man was, or at least she thought. If his story were to match up with his actions however, that would be up to her.
James stared back into her eyes, a slight smirk on his face that seemed all too infuriating.
"Because surely you would want to place your Rebel's Pay aside from the sight of the guards. I hear that people of our nature aren't looked upon with great respect." And alas the first card had fallen, a new character hath emerged rom the shadows. The "rebel" was no fool at all, and although he would love to deceive her further, the girl deserved at least the false feeling of honestly. At least she now knew who this man was, or at least she thought. If his story were to match up with his actions however, that would be up to her.
James stared back into her eyes, a slight smirk on his face that seemed all too infuriating.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
She took a breath, staring him down, then another in an effort to urge the anger take leave of her eyes. It didn't work, of course, as it was not unbridled to begin with.
Moving her hand back to pick up one of her copper pieces, Devon took a leave from his face, feeling uneasy and (quite frankly) sick to her stomach.
"On then, you stark bastard." She looked behind her - a palace guard was entering the tavern, and so she decided it time to take leave, appearing to the man at the door almost a woman coercing a weary traveler - moving her hand from his wrist to lightly trace the side of his jaw. That, she thought, was more than enough to convince any guard of her false intentions.
Leading him to an unoccupied room, the second on the right of the hallway, she opened the door and stepped inside. The bed was an old cot, neatly made, atop a bed of hay. It was covered with a fur, looking to come from a wolf or possibly a coyote, but certainly not from a particularly beautiful beast.
She moved to the bed, sitting down on the cot, and feeling it sink slightly beneath her. She took the fur into her hands and wrapped it around her, feeling the soft skin underneath her palms, but still sitting ramrod straight in her discomfort. She didn't like his ability to control this situation, she thought, but there was little to do about it now.
"So. I'll repeat, my friend: what do you want?"
Moving her hand back to pick up one of her copper pieces, Devon took a leave from his face, feeling uneasy and (quite frankly) sick to her stomach.
"On then, you stark bastard." She looked behind her - a palace guard was entering the tavern, and so she decided it time to take leave, appearing to the man at the door almost a woman coercing a weary traveler - moving her hand from his wrist to lightly trace the side of his jaw. That, she thought, was more than enough to convince any guard of her false intentions.
Leading him to an unoccupied room, the second on the right of the hallway, she opened the door and stepped inside. The bed was an old cot, neatly made, atop a bed of hay. It was covered with a fur, looking to come from a wolf or possibly a coyote, but certainly not from a particularly beautiful beast.
She moved to the bed, sitting down on the cot, and feeling it sink slightly beneath her. She took the fur into her hands and wrapped it around her, feeling the soft skin underneath her palms, but still sitting ramrod straight in her discomfort. She didn't like his ability to control this situation, she thought, but there was little to do about it now.
"So. I'll repeat, my friend: what do you want?"
JokerValentine
We Out
What did he want? What he wanted was not of her concern, at least what he truly wanted. But perhaps if he were to give a truthful sounding explanation, this rebel would buy it. "Oh, so quick to friendships, are we now? Alas, i don't want your life, your money, to destroy your credibility. Our interests are aligned, worshipper of Ethanol. One does not cough up the Rebel's Pay in a public setting without having friends around. This is an establishment of dissent, and that is why I am here. I too, have my own concerns for this.... tragedy of leadership."
Control was the name of the game. A predator corrals his prey, toys with it, makes it suffer each and every minute while he enjoys it. These rebels, such delicate prey they were. Many were so blinded by their anger, their grief, that they always folded in the face of adversity. Their strength comes from their hatred. But they were admirable, the ones that were truly dedicated.
James watched the girl wrap herself in dirty furs, trying not to think about how disgusting that fur might have been. Alas he had had worse, and the standards from our own time were so much lower. It still could give this rebel horrid disease. "Now, Devon, relax your heart. Have I done anything to harm you? What gain could a lowly shadow bring? I may surely appear frightening, but I am restrained to your actions only. If you act, I act."
Control was the name of the game. A predator corrals his prey, toys with it, makes it suffer each and every minute while he enjoys it. These rebels, such delicate prey they were. Many were so blinded by their anger, their grief, that they always folded in the face of adversity. Their strength comes from their hatred. But they were admirable, the ones that were truly dedicated.
James watched the girl wrap herself in dirty furs, trying not to think about how disgusting that fur might have been. Alas he had had worse, and the standards from our own time were so much lower. It still could give this rebel horrid disease. "Now, Devon, relax your heart. Have I done anything to harm you? What gain could a lowly shadow bring? I may surely appear frightening, but I am restrained to your actions only. If you act, I act."
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
"So quick to friendship in the face of foul luck, adversity, in the interest to fight another hour." She gave a small smile, still quite still despite his words, wiping her hair back from her face. "The most tragic warriors are not those that fall on the battlefield, nor those who take ill from their injuries, but men who fall before the knight of change."
Looking up at him, the fire in her eyes had softened, though she believed it had not went out since her sister's death. "I do not wish to become a tragedy."
She pushed the fur from her, standing but not quite facing him, instead directing her eyes to the door. "You've not harmed me yet, be you my friend or foe, except in your allegations of poison. A revolutionary does not deserve to die when they work to save a life, and coin itself is not worth blood, though taking a livelihood may leave blood on one's hands."
Devon took a slow and measured breath, her interest somewhat piqued, and her heart rate slowing. "Do you have business in Aishitol, Edwin?"
Looking up at him, the fire in her eyes had softened, though she believed it had not went out since her sister's death. "I do not wish to become a tragedy."
She pushed the fur from her, standing but not quite facing him, instead directing her eyes to the door. "You've not harmed me yet, be you my friend or foe, except in your allegations of poison. A revolutionary does not deserve to die when they work to save a life, and coin itself is not worth blood, though taking a livelihood may leave blood on one's hands."
Devon took a slow and measured breath, her interest somewhat piqued, and her heart rate slowing. "Do you have business in Aishitol, Edwin?"
JokerValentine
We Out
Edwin nodded. "Ay, I do. I am here to find someone by the name of Devon. Surely you know her." Why had she been sought? That was not to be revealed just yet. Part of the fun was guessing the reasons for their meeting anyhow. "Oh, and the poison? You do surely know that was but a jest. I recognize a thief when I see one, my dear. It is but a standard phrase. All doors are said to be guarded, but the comedy of this world truly is which ones are and which ones are not."
The male took a break from his dramatic speak, hoping to find something plain to day. "My business is you, my lady. This may sound rather strange to you, but your movement is rather well-known. You may ask why you, but that's not important. I am here to aid you, to aid your cause, to bring peace to Aishitol, by force."
He held his hands out, showing them to her. They had various blemishes, patches of dirt, and scars on them. The skin was withered terribly, dirty and calloused. "These are the hands of a truthful man, are they not?" No they weren't, but he had rehearsed this line so many times, even he sometimes found it convincing to say. What he really wanted was none of the sort of aid that she required.
The male took a break from his dramatic speak, hoping to find something plain to day. "My business is you, my lady. This may sound rather strange to you, but your movement is rather well-known. You may ask why you, but that's not important. I am here to aid you, to aid your cause, to bring peace to Aishitol, by force."
He held his hands out, showing them to her. They had various blemishes, patches of dirt, and scars on them. The skin was withered terribly, dirty and calloused. "These are the hands of a truthful man, are they not?" No they weren't, but he had rehearsed this line so many times, even he sometimes found it convincing to say. What he really wanted was none of the sort of aid that she required.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
"If you know of me, but I not of you, we may find ourselves a problem." Devon stood, touching his hand lightly, and trying to find some amount of honesty in his eyes. "A truthful man indeed."
The smile slipped off her face, and she listened intently, hearing nothing and as such checking her possessions.
She frowned up at him when she found it missing, an eyebrow raising, and her hand moving toward the holster at her hip. "But perhaps a truthful thief." She did not seem offended, as if used to such things, and glanced again toward the door.
Her lips pursed, and she looked uncertain for a moment, something seeming to occur to her. "A certain man is due a visit from me. If you might put yourself on for me, I would think of trusting you, as you need only speak to the guards once I have done my part." She took another measured breath. "If the keep did not know of your coming, I am uncertain of your allies, but we can use help where it is given."
The smile slipped off her face, and she listened intently, hearing nothing and as such checking her possessions.
She frowned up at him when she found it missing, an eyebrow raising, and her hand moving toward the holster at her hip. "But perhaps a truthful thief." She did not seem offended, as if used to such things, and glanced again toward the door.
Her lips pursed, and she looked uncertain for a moment, something seeming to occur to her. "A certain man is due a visit from me. If you might put yourself on for me, I would think of trusting you, as you need only speak to the guards once I have done my part." She took another measured breath. "If the keep did not know of your coming, I am uncertain of your allies, but we can use help where it is given."
JokerValentine
We Out
"Surely you may," James retorted, "for your allies are... few and far-between. I find that certain people in high places have a way of dissuading allies with the promise of fortune. Now, Devon, the choice is yours. You know not of my origins, not nearly as much as I know of yours, but such is life. We all wear a veneer of sorts, to disguise who we really are. The question is, do you trust what lies beneath it?"
The male too looked into his pocket, noticing too that he had been robbed. Although, he surely knew that he had. But it was all a measure of illusion, of deceit. "I shall indeed aid you in your conversations, my friend. Do you believe in honor amongst thieves? I surely do, and so I shall help you in your endeavors."
'Edwin' made no mention of giving the rebel her money back yet, for he found rather trusting to hold one another's money, in a weird way. In ancient Rome, it was common for conquered tribes to give their brightest citizens to the Romans, to show a sign of good faith that they would not rebel. And so too this seemed.
The male too looked into his pocket, noticing too that he had been robbed. Although, he surely knew that he had. But it was all a measure of illusion, of deceit. "I shall indeed aid you in your conversations, my friend. Do you believe in honor amongst thieves? I surely do, and so I shall help you in your endeavors."
'Edwin' made no mention of giving the rebel her money back yet, for he found rather trusting to hold one another's money, in a weird way. In ancient Rome, it was common for conquered tribes to give their brightest citizens to the Romans, to show a sign of good faith that they would not rebel. And so too this seemed.
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
Devon considered.
Took a moment.
She stared at him, resigned herself. "I do not. I believe in honour amongst thieves, but not in your profession as one; I lead because I have no choice nor want to offend."
She stood. Took a moment, sucked her cheeks, pinched them harshly with her fingers.
The action made her cheeks read, highlighted the sweat on them, and she gave a flat smile. "For any guards."
Surely, prostitution was less frowned upon than congregation.
"Just.. follow me."
She opened the door, striding up the hall, back to the bar. She gave Eliza a playful wave but said little.
Crossed to the tavern door, catching the eye of a guard as she opened it, and giving him a small - almost playful - grin.
He did not ask.
She turned the corner after a moment, striding into the alleyway beside, intent on seeing if he was to follow.
Kiell needed a visit. Some incentive, maybe.
She fingered her knife. Shook her head.
Such things did not give her pleasure, but they did have to be done.
She waited in the cool morning air for her companion to join her.
Took a moment.
She stared at him, resigned herself. "I do not. I believe in honour amongst thieves, but not in your profession as one; I lead because I have no choice nor want to offend."
She stood. Took a moment, sucked her cheeks, pinched them harshly with her fingers.
The action made her cheeks read, highlighted the sweat on them, and she gave a flat smile. "For any guards."
Surely, prostitution was less frowned upon than congregation.
"Just.. follow me."
She opened the door, striding up the hall, back to the bar. She gave Eliza a playful wave but said little.
Crossed to the tavern door, catching the eye of a guard as she opened it, and giving him a small - almost playful - grin.
He did not ask.
She turned the corner after a moment, striding into the alleyway beside, intent on seeing if he was to follow.
Kiell needed a visit. Some incentive, maybe.
She fingered her knife. Shook her head.
Such things did not give her pleasure, but they did have to be done.
She waited in the cool morning air for her companion to join her.
JokerValentine
We Out
She surely did not like to stay transfixed in one spot. Oh how much more enjoyable it would be if this rebel could just keep herself motionless for a damned minute. But no, she invited him to follow, first here and then there. Edwin nearly thought she were about to kiss the wench, or the guard. Sure she was slow to trust, but quick to kiss. Alas she did not give into base desires to dive headfirst into the empty pool that romance was. She skipped out of the tavern, begging the man to follow. And so he did.
Out in the streets, life was so much different. The terrors the average drinker sought to avoid were real and in front of all to see. But let us overlook the beggars, the violators of innocence, the butchers, the deformed, for the only creature Edwin dared to inquire into was this Devon. He expected a trap, as if he were to be so stupid as to follow the shepherd to the slaughter unknowingly he would not have made it this far. He was armed, no doubt, and he would not have much of a hesitation to steal a life.
"You are a woman of many locations, Devon," Edwin said, catching up to her as he kept his guard up internally yet tried his absolute best to keep his stance rather relaxed. He surely did not want to infer that he suspected this female to be so low as to kill a man in such cowardice. Though such were rebels. When they did not get their way they often resorted to dishonor. "Now," he proceeded, "your business astounds me, Devon. Why, you could perhaps go to any building in the square and have them be yours in a. candle's flicker."
Out in the streets, life was so much different. The terrors the average drinker sought to avoid were real and in front of all to see. But let us overlook the beggars, the violators of innocence, the butchers, the deformed, for the only creature Edwin dared to inquire into was this Devon. He expected a trap, as if he were to be so stupid as to follow the shepherd to the slaughter unknowingly he would not have made it this far. He was armed, no doubt, and he would not have much of a hesitation to steal a life.
"You are a woman of many locations, Devon," Edwin said, catching up to her as he kept his guard up internally yet tried his absolute best to keep his stance rather relaxed. He surely did not want to infer that he suspected this female to be so low as to kill a man in such cowardice. Though such were rebels. When they did not get their way they often resorted to dishonor. "Now," he proceeded, "your business astounds me, Devon. Why, you could perhaps go to any building in the square and have them be yours in a. candle's flicker."
Meredith
of Fiendish Intent
Devon smiled easily as he approached.
She was made nervous by this man who knew her name, but let it hide under her flimsy demeanor, put at ease (if by anything) by the sound of the road beside. The carts and merchant-calling would heavy cover up anything that happened here - both a blessing and a curse - though even if the guards were to be a help she could not risk being detained.
Taking a few steps back, into the shade, she obscured herself from the street. After a moment - a long moment, while she watched him, but did not breathe - she flicked a knife out of her sleeve and let the flash of silver point to the ground.
"Take out your knife," she spoke levelly, "if you have intention of working with me today."
She was made nervous by this man who knew her name, but let it hide under her flimsy demeanor, put at ease (if by anything) by the sound of the road beside. The carts and merchant-calling would heavy cover up anything that happened here - both a blessing and a curse - though even if the guards were to be a help she could not risk being detained.
Taking a few steps back, into the shade, she obscured herself from the street. After a moment - a long moment, while she watched him, but did not breathe - she flicked a knife out of her sleeve and let the flash of silver point to the ground.
"Take out your knife," she spoke levelly, "if you have intention of working with me today."
