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245.5 | 2020-02-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka Durkhan\nStormalong, South Feyshore\n\nShe had arrived without much warning in Stormalong. Angelica had written to her, asking for her to make a quick trip out to Stormalong at her earliest convenience. It was signed 'Angel', something the blonde lady only did when she was at the end of her rope, the same way Anya used to sign frantic letters as 'Anka'. \n\nShe was greeted with surprise but open arms, and she and the Lady of Stormalong locked themselves in her chambers for hours. When she finally withdrew, it was so Angelica could check in on Marcus and Anya could deal with the pestering gnat of a guard who kept trying to catch her attention. \n\n\"_What_ could possibly be so important?\" She snapped, and stiffened at the realization that she had. The redhead paused, swallowed, then straightened. \"My apologies, what is it, Lockard?\" She asked her tone much kinder this time. \n\n\"A man is here to see you.\" Lockard explained behind a blush. \"He arrived with recommendations from Lord Cromwell.\"\n\n\"Sir, sir Cromwell.\" Anyanka corrected but nodded. Angelica would be a while undoubtedly, and she had time for a quick meeting. \n\n\"Take me to him.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Elias Armin\nStormalong, S. Feyshore**\n\nHe had been waiting for what was just starting to feel like forever. But, it was no matter. He was a soldier. Or, at least he had been at one point. If there was one thing he could do, it was wait. And, so, wait Elias did. \n\nOnce the contents of Elias' flask had warmed from the freeze that it had gotten on the trip from Knight's Landing, he sipped on it. There was nothing better to do, waiting and all. Of course, it was only water but it gave him something to do. Elias cherished the little pouch, as it was the same one given to him twenty-five years ago. Though he had payed coin to have it repaired all too many times. \n\nFinally, as Elias returned the souviner of his days as a living man to his hip, he spotted the end to his wait. As Anya walked towards him, guard in tow he stood. Elias considered taking knee in some sort of respectful show but deemed it too much. \n\nThe Duchess neared him and so he removed Cromwell's second letter from his back pocket, where he had moved it in all the waiting, and thrusting the letter in hand towards her Elias spoke. \"I believe it best that you read this first, Ma'am.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka Durkhan\nStormalong South Feyshore\n\nAnyanka had barely gotten within greeting distance of the stranger before he was thrusting a folded letter in her direction. The woman paused, an unfortunate confused sound slipping from.Her as her brow raised and knitted together at the same time.\n\nGrey eyes moved to the man, and she studied him for a moment before carefully taking the letter. She didn't trust it, but Lockard made no indication that Stafford's guards would have let this strange man into her presence without being verified first. \n\nShe glanced down at the letter in her hands, fingers holding the edges carefully before turning it over to break the seal. The handwriting was immediate recognizable as Cromwell's, and that was even more peculiar. \n\n_I was never an expert on Kath. Thought you might be able to authenticate his story better than I could. Be wary. \n\n-Cromwell_\n\nAnya read the note twice before letting her gaze slide back up to the man. \n\n\"Do I know you?\" She questioned, returning the letter to its envelope."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Elias Armin\nStormalong, S. Feyshore**\n\nElias watched the royalty as she read Cromwell's letter. He thought it was just a bit quick, considering all he had told the man who wrote it. But, perhaps she was just a quick reader. \n\nElias stared back as Anya looked up to him and heard her question. Once again, he thought it odd. Should that not have been in the letter? Nevertheless, he needed to reply and so Elias answered, \"Yes. Sort of.\"\n\nHe let the words linger a moment before continuing. There was quite a bit to say but Elias tried to keep it quick enough to begin with. \"I, well, I am Elias Armin. Elias Armin of the Royal Eclipse Guard of Kath.\"\n\nWith that, Elias left the floor of conversation to Anya. He was unsure of how the duchess would react, but he could only hope she would believe him. If needed, a bit more proof did lie inside his jacket, in a pocket that itself lay over his heart."
}
] | 243 | 982 |
317.25 | 2020-03-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Elias Armin\nStormalong, S. Feyshore**\n\nElias walked with Anya, and after he finished his words, he heard the ones that she had to share. They were good ones. He was glad she agreed with his sentiment, perhaps even more than he himself did. But, she had every right to, considering what the man had put her through. \n\nThen the questioning resumed. Oh, the questioning. This one even more pressing than the last. But, as last time, Elias had an answer, and it may be one that would shock her to hear. \n\n\"Why did I come here? I think it an obvious answer, Ma'am. I'm simply obliged. To hear the direct call of the Eclipse Gaurd and to not answer it? I would have to be a man of no honor.\" \n\nThe first question was of Anya's was answered. But that was the easy one. All Elias had to do was to be honest about it. He thought himself an honorable man, or, at least he liked thinking himself one. But, now, it was time for the grander of his two responses. \n\n\"As for why I reached out, it is because I know that you are not like your father. Or, at least that you were not... You see, Miss Durkhan, I mentioned earlier that I had not seen you. But, some had. Those some being members of the Eclipse Guard.\" With the reveal of what may possibly be a hard truth to Anya, Elias gave the lady just a short moment to process before he continued on. \"Yes, the Eclipse Guard had watch on you. Ordered by the Head Knight, seniors of the guard would watch you. Ensure your safety.\"\n\n\"I was not one of those people. But, they had things to tell. Like you and I both know, people talk. They told us, they told me of a little girl. A little girl with friends. One who chatted with those friends, thought seemingly happy thoughts, and at times looked as though she dreamed of more even in the face of the hardships in front of her. And, so, if even a bit of the spirit of that little girl stands in front of me now, I do know that you are not like your father.\" \n\nWith his quiet speech finished, Elias fell silent and allowed the woman in front of him the floor of conversation once more."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka Durkhan\nStormalong, South Feyshore\n\nThe woman's lips parted at his confession, and she felt her expression harden and crack at both the same time. It was a difficult thing to hear, and her brow knitted together as she turned her head sharply to look away from him. Her tongue ran over her top teeth beneath her pursed lips, and she took a moment to keep her voice tame. \n\n\"They watched me?\" She questioned, finally turning back to look at Elias,the crack in her features gone now. \n\n\"They saw where I was, and they left me there?\" A beat. \"Intentionally?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Elias Armin\nStormalong, S. Feyshore**\n\nElias watched the wave of realization come over the lady standing in front of him. What he said was not news he particularly wanted to deliver, but it was something that he had to say regaurdless of his own wishes. \n\n\"Yes. They watched you. And, yes, they did nothing.\" Elias confirmed Anya's worries before glancing to the ground and allowing a sigh. He looked back to her and began to try and explain. To try and reason it all. Something he had done with himself quite a number of times before. \n\n\"Yes, we did nothing. But, Ma'am, if you will allow me to tell you why, I hope it will make sense to you... Your father had ordered the Eclipse Gaurd to not intervene. According to the Head Knight, the man had no interest in dealing with any mercenaries or sellswords that the brothel might pay to get their revenge. Or, at least, that's how he saw it.\"\n\n\"And, to the rest of us, well, who were we to question the Head Knight? And, I imagine, to him he wondered the same of your father. But, the Head Knight did wish to see you safe. And with no order against it, I think he did as much good as he thought that he could do.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "**\nAnyanka Durkhan\nStormalong, South Feyshore**\n\nIt was a terrible excuse, one that twisted in on itself with even the slightest bit of logic applied to it. She had been the daughter of a Duke. The _legitimate_ and _known_ daughter of Kath's ruler. And she'd been pawned off for debts not her own, and then _observed_ instead of helped. It made bile rise in her throat, and she remembered why she never spoke to her son of his grandfather. \n\n\"You could have been good citizens, Mister Armin.\" She told him, though none of the resentment carried from her mind to her voice. She'd gotten out, it was long over, but it didn't help to know they had watched her struggle to do it for so long. \n\n\"The Eclipse is not the same beast it was under my father's rule. Your oath is invalid as far as I'm concerned, so if you're looking for a dismissal know that you're not required to find one from me.\" The woman spoke with an even tone, trying to pull her mind from the beginning of memories she didn't care to relive. Her fingers wrapped around each other, tips threatening to blue without the help of leathers to keep her warmth. She could have summoned a charm, something to trigger the sigils that ran up the length of her forearms, and spark that sickly sweet warmth that came from her magic. But she wanted to hurt a little in this moment. \n\n\"If you're wishing to join _My_ Eclipse, you're going to have to earn your place as the others will. I'll keep in mind your past, and what truths you have shared with me, but I will not hold a bias towards you, Elias Armin.\""
}
] | 322 | 1,269 |
229.4 | 2020-04-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Lady Surany Torok, \"Lady of the Wine\"**\n*The Curved Barrel tavern, along the docks of South Feyshore* \n\nStormy-blue eyes gazed around the rowdy tavern, squinting through the dimly lit room in an attempt to gain an idea of her new surroundings. Immediately the smell of ale and horrid hygiene filled her nostrils, followed by repulsion. To say that this was not her \"Usual\" Scene was a bit of an understatement; the noise and alcohol was certainly familiar, but the other... Questionable aromas were not. Whenever the noblewoman threw a party at least her guests bathed before attending (at least, she assumed they would know to do that). \n\nShaking her head, Surany slowly made her way through the tables and chairs, trying to avoid the overzealous drunks and quickly forming puddles around her feet. It was a good thing she had not worn her nicer clothing; it would have given her away, as well as been ruined by the customers. Instead she had donned a simple brown dress and a pair of brown shoes to match. The main thing that made her stand out was her cloak: navy blue with green stitching. Not fancy, but definitely not something affordable to the lower class. \n\nWith one last squeeze, the lady finally made her way to an empty barstool, gladly grabbing it and she took a seat. Her entire body was already done with this whole procedure, but alas, the master of it was not. No, Surany was here on a mission. As she grabbed the minute attention of a barkeep, she cried out \"An ale! Clean glass, if you have it.\" In another moment a mug of ale was slid in front of her, and Surany took a deep swig before she finished with an \"Ah\" And smacked it down. Licking her lips, she gazed around once more before leaning closer and gestured for the barkeep again. He was about to ignore her until the girl held up two gold coins, immediately catching his eye.\n\nAs the man leaned closer, she muttered \"I am looking for something specific. A bit... Exotic. Animal. Do you know of someone who can do that for me?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Random barkeep in a whole in the wall tavern\nThe curved barrel tavern. \n\nTaking the coins quick as a wink, the fellow nodded and sized the strange lady up before . \"I don't know much about that, but if there's one fellow in this town who can get it for you it's that Gulcher fellow what's been running around buying up nonsense. Right over there in the corner booth.\" He added, nodding to a man who was surrounded by empty tankards. \"No promises though and watch your shoes he likes to spit.\""
},
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Lady Surany Torok, \"Lady of the Wine\"**\n*The Curved Barrel tavern, along the docks of South Feyshore* \n\nSurany turned to follow his gesture, squinting until she spied the mentioned man and booth. She turned back and said,\"Thank you,\" Before she stood up, placing another coin for the drink. Taking the drink in hand, the woman began to make her way once more through the crowd, stepping lightly. In a way, it was kind of like a dance. Hmm... Dance of the drunks? That did have a ring to it. Maybe she would commission a bard when she returned home. \n\nAt last she made her way to the booth, straightening out her clothes before taking a moment to compose herself. Her lips curl into a smile as she playfully knocked on the wooden seat, peeked over and asked \"May I join you? I was told you were good company.\" Her eyes scanned the multiple tankards and the noble noted that those were most definite 'keep away.'"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Craig Gulcher\nThe curved barrel\n\nLooking up from his freshly drained tankard the man squinted at her and dug in his pocket for his tobacco pouch. \"Sounds like you've been lied to, sweetheart.\" He finally said, spiting off to the side. \"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?\""
},
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Lady Surany Torok, \"Lady of the Wine\"**\n*The Curved Barrel tavern, along the docks of South Feyshore* \n\nWith a smirk, she gently glided into the opposite side of the man, resting her own mug onto the table. Her face squinted in disgust at his spitting, but she shrugged it off. It was not like she hadn't seen that before; it most likely was her damned tutor rubbing off on her. Well, if only that same batty woman knew how well her student had taken those etiquette lessons (and had proceeded to break every one of them whenever she could). But now was not the time to think about batty old Ms. Kintry. \n\n\"A mutual friend,\" She gestured back to the barkeep,\"Pointed me in your direction. I am in search for something.\" Surany leaned against the tabletop, playing with the mug. \"I can assume that you are in the business of... Finding and selling. Possibly... Exotic animals?\" Her voice went to a whisper near the end. It wasn't exactly *Illegal* To buy strange beasts, but it also was not *Legal* Either. \"I can pay what you want for the right goods. Well, as long as you have whatever I am looking for, that it.\" Blue eyes looked expectantly at her companion, her foot now tapping the floor of the tavern. \"Does this catch your interest?\""
}
] | 212 | 1,147 |
693.75 | 2020-07-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "heyimnotabandit",
"message": "Otto, the Prince\nRuined village/Hideout\n\nOtto laid on one of the four stone railings in the bell tower of the church. His back pressing against the wall and his right foot over his left. Early in the morning was one of the few times he truly had any time to reflect and think peacefully. Well, as peacefully as one in his position could get. Looking down upon the ruins of the village, he felt a skewed sense of pride for his men. Especially the peasants who had thrown down their tools to come and join him and his men. He watched them as they did their chores, his Sergeants barking orders and his most trusted lieutenants convening to each other just outside the tent closest to the church.\n\nA majority of the dilapidated houses were converted into smaller but more robust cabins for those who were skilled enough. Most however spent their times in the various tents pressed together around fire pits. The Hounds as they were called were a mixture of veteran soldiers, peasants of various trades, and the occasional fence who wanted to buy some of their \"Borrowed\" Loot. The Hounds had a system. A system that so-far had worked well for them. Each member of the band of brigands were to apply their previous trades as well as they could. Carpenters working to improve the way of life and to provide decent defenses. Hunters to search for food, former soldiers to provide watch, and farmers to make trenches of soil and mud to prevent any sudden surprise attacks from their would-be enemies.\n\nThat was not to say however, that these men were not all killers and bastards. They were. But there was a sense of discipline that kept them in line, that often made them stand out among the various factions of bandits in the Southern Feyshore. However they were not the most powerful. Not yet. The Hounds could survive most attacks from their would be rivals, but the patrols of soldiers that often came around gave them plenty of trouble.\n\nHe wanted to avoid contact with most of the nobility in this fragmented country as much as possible. At least until he could grow his number of men from around 50 to something much higher and more probable. He also had to equip his men better. Otto and his lieutenants were the most armored; all of them having some form of half-plate and decent experience. His sergeants were often equipped with some form of chain mail, and the veteran soldiers as well. Those who weren't on the higher scale in the group often had to rely on gambesons and whatever tools they could acquire. Only 10 out of the 50 had horses, and even less could actually ride without much trouble. \n\nHe eye'd out to the road that lead into the front of the village. It was mostly hidden with a thick coating of brush and tree's that they had allowed to grow, but also carefully maintained as to try and hide themselves from anyone passing by. Though occasionally some who were also embedded in the life of crime learned of the location of the village. Mostly for trade, sometimes for recruitment. He watched some of the hunters return with various small game wrapped over a belt-loop. Only one had come back with a deer.\n\nAudibly exhaling, Otto chewed on the apple in his hand. He was their leader. A commander. The Prince. He wondered what the nobility would think whenever he marched a truly powerful army to their front door. One day - perhaps. For now, he was simply Otto, The Prince. A petty Warlord who still had to earn his keep. The other factions would either join him, or die. \n\nThrowing his feet onto the cobble-stone floor of the bell tower, he made his way down the winding steps and to his allocated room. After dressing himself in his usual garb and strapping his sword and dagger to his person - he made his way out and towards the tent of the lieutenants.\n\n\"I'm telling you, Jounas! We must strike in the dead of night. They won't be expecting us!\"\n\n\"No. We run the risk of making far more noise than we intend. I agree, Henry, that we must surprise them... But we must do it at least where we can see where we are going!\"\n\nThe two lieutenants argued to each other. Both, unlike Otto, almost always wore their armor even outside of combat. Cuirass, greaves, cussie, gauntlets, chainmail, etc. If it weren't for their bickering, their erratic movements and the clinking of the metal would have been loud enough to wake the dead.\n\n\"Jounas! You are a -\" Henry stopped as he saw Otto finally make their way to them. \n\n\"Have either of you come to a conclusion?\" Otto said slowly, dragging his words as he looked between them. For all of their worth, all they ever did was bicker. \n\n\"Well - uh. Yes, Otto. Mostly.\" Henry said solemnly. The two were the only men in the band who were allowed to call Otto by his name to his face. \n\n\"We will take them from surprise as we usually do, though I propose that we do it by moonlight. Catch them off-guard.\" Henry continued.\n\n\"I still disagree. It would cause more noise than we intend!\" Jounas exclaimed. \n\n\"Enough.\" Otto scratched his chin with his gloved thumb. His other hand kneading the pommel of his longsword. He weighed both options. Attacking at night could prove useful, but Jounas was correct. Their armor alone in the deep thickets of the forest would cause an incredible amount of noise. But they could use that noise to their advantage. \n\n\"We'll do it near early morning tomorrow. As they wake, they'll be used to the sound of armor. Though I doubt that Věnceslav would be with them. If we can attempt to assimilate some them, we would just have to focus on Věnceslav's and those who are increasingly loyal.\"\n\nOtto eye'd at the two, still scratching his chin. Both Jounas and Henry gave a cautious look before both nodding. \"Go and relay the orders to the Sergeants.\"\n\n\"Aye, Otto.\"\n\"Aye.\"\n\nThe preparations before battle always played on the nerves. It didn't matter if you were an experienced general or a lowly peasant. Battle was fucking terrifying. It was one of the few experiences in the world that could really bring out the worst in men; force men to enter situations were they would either break down or turn into sheer, unbridled machines of rage. It was always hazy. \n\nOtto had returned from the church in his armor as the night dragged on. He dawned his armor. He had replaced his jerkin with a lightly padded gambeson, little more then just added fabric. He wore his haubergeon(thigh length chainmail shirt) with his full cuirass(breastplate - front/back). His protection for his lower body consisted of his full cuisse and greaves(leg armor) with his sabatons(boots). \n\nHis armor clinked with every step as he made his way to his awaiting and still prepping soldiers. His lieutenants Jounas and Henry were already awaiting with similar armor to Otto's. His sergeants were barking orders at the rest of the men who began to fall in line. Discipline went a long way with these men. Especially for those who were so used to war. They were a killing machine. Idly holding his helmet under his shoulder, Otto continued to observe the men as they finished prepping. \n\nMost of the normal men within The Hounds used polearms. A few had axes and one or two had swords, though there was the occasional crossbow with some of the hunters. The sergeants had arming swords and shields to mostly protect themselves. His lieutenants both carried maces and rondel daggers, similar to Otto himself. \nGiving a nod to Jounas and Henry - they set off. Choosing not to use horses this time as to try and keep as silent as possible. They were going to be moving through the woods and preparation was key. \n\nThey marched."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Věnceslav\nSouth Feyshore\n\nThe best thing about the Fall of Feyshore was that the woods had become entirely overgrown. Less need for wood meant more trees and underbrush. Many of the places in near the Southern bank of Lake Fey looked untouched by humans. There was a beauty to it, but also a tactical advantage to it. Hiding from some local lord was a lot easier in a dense forest, and after the last disasterous run-in with some men-at-arms they needed to lay low and figure what they were going to do now. They were sixty before that run-in, now they'd been reduced to forty-two. \n\n_Should've taken the fucking amnesty when King Storm was here._ He thought. _How could I have Lord Stafford was as much of a maniac as he is?_ \n\nThe men were sore and down. The wine ran out a month ago, and the ale was out a week ago. Food wasn't quite scarce, the woods were still rather full of game. His Quatermaster Adalbert didn't have much issues getting rabbits and deer. They'd even managed to kill a bear the other day. Poor Arik got a nasty new scar after that one. \n\nVěnceslav saddled his horse and tightened the straps before mounting it, and beginning his nightly ride to the north to clear his head and figure out how he was going to get the fuck out of this godsforsaken country."
},
{
"author": "heyimnotabandit",
"message": "Otto, The Prince\nSouth Feyshore\nAlmost as if by a miracle, the man that was Věnceslav had left shortly before Otto and his men had arrived. The silence of the night was deafening to Otto. He looked out at the faint camp-fire lights. He knew that once he stepped out and over, he had to rely on his men to spring out the moment he gave the signal. \n\nSlowly raising his helmet to his head, he kept the visor up as he softly whispered to Jounas. Jounas in return turned to one of the five sergeants and whispered to him and the sergeant to the men. The men broke off into 5 sections of 25, lead by Jounas that attempted to do a semi-circle around the side of the camp. 20 where lead by Henry as the did the same on the opposite side. Left to right. Five men were with Otto himself, some of his most trusted and skilled veterans. It was time.\n\nSlowly making his way through and out of the brush into the center of the camp, he stood there with his longsword resting against his shoulder. His armor clinking softly yet again with every step until he stopped. He spoke the moment he arrived and to the moment he stopped as to capitalize on his surprise arrival.\n\n\"You men are under the service of Věnceslav and that is an error of which you must fix. You are surrounded on all fronts by my men. Some of you may know me, especially those who I have met before in battle. I am The Prince, Otto.\" He said as he slowly began to pace back and forth, still watching the men. \"I offer you two choices. You will surrender and turn in your arms, and I will give you a chance to correct your egregious mistake of joining an incompetent fool.\" He said as he spoke calmly but with command. Raising his voice but not shouting. \"Or you will die. Do not allow your emotions to overtake your judgement, for I will have no quarter.\" \n\nHe then stopped once more. Looking out at the rival men. \"Now. If you are willing to die - I shall oblige you.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "A bunch of criminals in a camp\nSouth Feyshore\n\nAs Otto finished speaking, he'd see surprised and uncertain looks on the men in the camp. They were all standing now. Some looked uncertain, other had their cracked shields and swords. Others mallets and maces scavanged from a field. \n\nIn a larger tent where the food was normally prepped, the Quartermaster Adalbert gritted is teeth and held his crossbow to his cheek and loosed a bolt from inside the tent. The bolt went wide, whizzing pass Ott's head and off into the forest. \n\nThe large bellied Quartermaster walked out with a horn in one hand and a hammer in the other. \n\n\"Otto you right roarin' fuckin' cunt!\" He barked, blowing into the horn to let Věnceslav know to come back. There was a moment of tension in the air as some of the men looked between Adalbert and Otto. A man with a bandage on his left shoulder from a bear scratch whispered to another.\n\n\"You fuckin' what Arik!?\" The man he whispered to exclaimed, and within a moment after that the man assumed to be Arik stabbed the other in the chest once, twice about to be a third before another stabbed him through the back. About six other men turned on their compatriots and attacked, their backs toward Otto. \n\nVěnceslav heard the horn, he wasn't too far off before he reared his horse and bolted back toward the camp. He drew his sword from the sheathe on the saddle and rode hard likely arriving in minutes."
}
] | 391 | 2,775 |
215.25 | 2020-07-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "heyimnotabandit",
"message": "Otto, The Prince\nSouth Feyshore\nOtto had tensed as the bolt flew past him - a mistake on his part. He knew that his armor would have protected him from it but yet it still scarred the hell out of him. But no longer. As the horn went off, the men from both sides suddenly exploded from the forest. Otto waited from behind as he slowly turned, his gauntleted hands tightening around the hilt of his sword. He would wait for Věnceslav.\n\nThe five men that were with Otto went to the aid of the men who had turned their backs to him. Quickly rushing to their aid as both Jounas and Henry had crashed from the sides. \n \n -\n\nJounas\nSouthern Feyshore\nJounas let out a war cry as his mace connected with the chest of one of the rival bandits. His arms rearing up and around as he swung with all of his might with the blows. \n\n **\"THWACK!\"** \n **\"CRAAAAACK!\"**\n **\"BFOOOPH!\"**\nHe felt some of the men's swords glance off his armor as he continued to fight. He knew that even with their surprise attack, some men would fall. What mattered to him was keeping his troops alive and pushing back these - **\"FRUMPH!\"** \nAn axe went right to his ribs and into his cuirass. He could feel the sheet of metal denting and crushing as he got sent to his side. The chainmail and gambeson under had prevented any real damage to him, but it still knocked his breath out. Even in the hazy chaos of battle, everything had slowed down for him.\n\nHe watched his brother continue to battle on his side. Breathing heavily and audibly - he pushed himself to his feet. Collecting his mace as he turned slowly to the Quartermaster, Adalbert. He stepped up with an underhand swing."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Adalbert and friends\nSouthern Feyshore\n\nThe camp exploded into chaos all at once, and it was already clear to Adalbert who had the upper hand. He'd figured he was dying in Feyshore, but he hadn't thought it'd be some other group of brigands. He had always imagined it in a field with some line of glittering knights riding him down. He supposed death was going to be as disapointing as life was. \n\nAdalbert began backtracking as the armored Jounas came at him with an introductory underhanded mace swing. As the swing followed throw, Adalbert had backed up out of its way. He then surged forward with his hammer swinging a reckless side swing hoping to catch him in the lower side and knock Jounas' on his ass.\n\nVěnceslav could hear the sound of angry combat, and someone was clearly losing."
},
{
"author": "heyimnotabandit",
"message": "Jounas and the boys\nSouthern Feyshore\n\n\"ARGH!\" Jounas exclaimed as he stumbled over to the side and into the piece of a tent. Once more his armor became dented and he could feel the throbbing pain starting to surge up once more. Slowly pushing himself up yet again, he exhaled slowly as he looked out and across from the battlefield through the slits of his visor. He saw his brother still engaged in combat. His eyes slowly trailed back over to Adalbert. Jounas then reared up his arms as he took a single step forward. Putting his weight into his throw as he flung the mace towards Adalbert and with a continued motion - threw his body at him as well. Trying to take him down into a nasty ground fight."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Adalbert\nSouther Feyshore\n\nA wide smile formed over Adalbert's face as Jounas was knocked to the tent. He began to raise his hammer over his head as he stepped toward Jounas, but before he could reach him the man got up and threw the mace. Adalbert had not expected a mace to be thrown at him, and it landed square in his gut before he was met with an armored slam. \n\nAdalbert wheezed and slammed onto the ground with a thud. All of the breathe was pulled from him, giving Jounas the perfect advantage in the ground fight momentarily."
},
{
"author": "heyimnotabandit",
"message": "Jounas\nSouthern Feyshore\n\nAs Jounas struggled with Adalbert, he brought up one closed gauntleted fist and brought it down towards the mans nose. All the while - ripping his dagger from his scabbard and attempting to plunge it up into his ribs. \"DIE YOU FAT FUCK!\" Jounas exclaimed through a wheezing hot breath. Everything was hot, dizzy, and faded. But he knew it was life or death for him. There was no mercy for the weak. \n\nOtto, The Prince\nSouthern Feyshore\n\nOtto had been awaiting for Věnceslav to return to the camp, himself still standing back from the massive brawl that was taking place all over. It had seemed that The Hounds had torn into this group just as well as Otto had expected. He did see some of his men sprawled out on the ground. He'd have to count them later. His thoughts were suddenly ripped from him as he heard the thundering of hooves approaching from behind. Turning on his heel, Otto kept a tight grip on his hilt with both hands. Slightly bending his knee as he watched the horse come into and as it approached. He thrusted his blade at it's neck."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "A-dead-l-bert\nSouthern Feyshore\n\nAdalbert was never a man of profound thought, so when his sight flashed from the blow of a gauntlet to his nose and pain exploded he could only think _Oh fuck_. Then the knife slid into his ribs and he let out a gasp as the tip kissed his heart. He felt strength sap from him and his eyes rolled back. The pain had receded, funnily enough. Sound started to drift away like he was being carried off somewhere else. He thought he smelled a blueberry pie. But how did he smell, his nose was broken? He wasn't sure. He didn't care. He was dead.\n\nVěnceslav\nSouthern Feyshore\n\nVěnceslav's eyes had been fixated on the battle as he rode hard, his sword out. A glint of metal caught his peripheral then his horse began to choke and threw him off the boke. Věnceslav flew around three or four feet before slamming hard into the ground. His vision blured and his horse tried to scream and thrash as it died. \n\nQuickly pushing himself up and staggering slightly once on his feet, he picked up his sword to turn to the man that had decided to kill his horse. He pulled the blade close and wrapped both hands around the hilt. Věnceslav was significantly lighter armored with a studded leather chest piece and iron vambraces. He'd mostly been equipped for a nightly ride."
},
{
"author": "heyimnotabandit",
"message": "Otto, The Prince\n\nOtto listened to the now waning sound of battle as he watched Věnceslav come down hard from his blow and the horse crashing under his swift and decisive strike. The blood had splashed from the throat of the creature onto his visor and longsword. The blood dripped slowly down and lightly coated his gauntlets. With a swift turn of his heel, he matched the enemy as he got into a similar stance. \n\nBending his knee's, Otto gave him a sly smile under his helmet. He then did a forward advance, bringing his longsword forward with the flick of his wrists and the quick step of his feet."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Věnceslav\n\nVěnceslav felt nothing but rage pump through him when he saw the man whod killed his horse. With the closed visor and full armor, he didn't particularly know who it was. But he decided that he'd start his revenge here, and continue until he was dead or killed everyone. \n\n_I had a plan._ He thought, as the man brought the sword forward.\n\nVěnceslav was lighter on his feet, but was without much in the way of armor or a way to get into the man's armor. Despite that, the man went forward anyway bringing his sword into Otto's in an attempt to turn his sword aside and push it to the left."
}
] | 174.5 | 1,722 |
200.5 | 2020-08-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia De Blanc\nStormalong, Southern Feyshore\n\nAmicia had been stationary for the majority of her life. She'd spent her youth with routine inside the familiar walls of an orphanage - or a mortuary in the latter half of adolescence. Since then she hadn't changed much, she remained small, quiet, adversed to large groups of people and reliant on routine. Something she had found difficult to maintain in the previous few months since she had turned 18 and left her home in Gorgonys in search for actual work, luckily, she believed herself to have finally found it.\n\nThe young girl stood in the threshold of the *Crimson Flow Mortuary*, taking a moment to ready herself for a conversation she wasn't sure she would know how to have. She stood straight, trying to appear bigger than her short and lean build would allow (as she had been mistaken far too often for a child the previous months). She had even tied her long hair back to look older.\n\nStepping up on to her toes, she grasped the knocker and banged it against the metal base on the door three times then took a step back from the door as she shouldered a linen bag and waited, hands fidgeting."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary, Stormalong\n\nBaster stood behind the counter in a loose, light grey linen shirt taking inventory of the herbs in the shop. His eyes scanned the shelves below glancing through ashes of the dead from the funerals he hosted a few days prior. The families should be showing up later in the day to collect the ashes and spread them where pleased. More often than not, they abandoned the remains of their loved ones and left the ashes in the Aster's care under the assumption he would treat them with the respect deserved. Baster, however, took the ashes and sold it to farmers in the surrounding villages. Quietly, of course. He had a reputation to uphold. \n\nThe clang of metal echoed through the upper level of the mortuary and drew Baster's gaze to the door. He attempted to penetrate the door as if he could see through it, before sighing and crossing the threshold in a few strides. Baster hated being disturbed without cause. As the man pulled the door open, the scent of burning flesh exploded from the shop, dissipating slightly in the fresh air. Baster's emotionless gaze fell to the child standing at his doorstep. \"What can I help you with?\" He asked, his deep voice tainted with a small amount of irritation."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia De Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary, Stormalong\n\nAs the door swung open Amicia lifted her eyes to meet the stranger's face. He looked vaguely gaunt and unfriendly as he looked down at her, for a moment she couldn't speak - as if she was shocked that the man in front of her looked almost as corpse-like as the bodies she was used to treating. She almost forgot the smell of burning flesh. \n\nShe didn't like the look he was giving her.\n\nAfter a half second longer than she should have stayed quiet, she reached into her bag and pulled out her letter of recommendation, holding it out towards the man,\"I'mmm,\" She began, voice catching on the hummed note,\"I'm looking for work.\"\n\nAs her hand held out the note the other one went to the chain around her neck, pushing open and closed the different lockets."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack \nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary, Stormalong\n\nBaster watched the child study him and smirked. He raised an eyebrow as she reached inside of her bag and pulled out the letter, holding it out to him. \n\"A bit young to be working in a place of death.\" He noted, taking the letter and skimming through its contents. \"Why here?\" He asked nonchalantly, his curious gaze peering over the top of the paper."
}
] | 217 | 802 |
158.666667 | 2020-08-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary.\n\nWhen the jar was held out to her, she ran her thumb over the soft fibres along the surface - only to drop the leaf in with a flinch as Alistair shouted down the hall. She'd never liked loud noises and the mortuary she had grown up in was always quiet, the asters there believing that the quiet was more respectful to those that had passed. \n\nWhen a boy appeared in the doorway only a few moments later, she hopped down from the stool as if to greet him. He looked so young. \n\n*Colleague*, she almost breathed a sigh of relief.\"It's-it's nice to-it's nice to meet you, Hugo.\" She said, then looked to Alabaster,\"You ha... Ven't given me your-your name yet.\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"Alabaster.\" Conversation finished, he pulled a bottle of mulled wine from the shelves behind him and poured a glass. \"Go.\" He continued, dismissing them with a wave. \"I have business to take care of.\" \n\n\"Come on then.\" Hugo said, rolling his eyes at Baster before waving Amicia forward to join him. \"I'll give ya a tour of the place. Hope you ain't squeamish.\" His chuckle disappeared quickly as he glanced around to see what she had with her. \"Didn't ya bring somethin? We can drop it off upstairs first so you don't get it dirty.\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\n*Alabaster*. How fitting.\n\nWhen they were dismissed, Amicia picked up the light linen shoulder bag that held what little possessions she had. *I've been doing this longer than you* She wanted to tell the young boy.\"I'm not-I'm not squeamish.\" She mumbled instead, following him and flicking the strap of her bag when he had turned to ask if she had brought anything with her.\n\nShe'd left most of her belongings at home to travel light, bringing only her letter, a few garments, a hand mirror and a hairbrush. She figured that when she had settled she would be able to purchase or make anything she came to need.\n\n\"Hhooow lonnng have you worked-worked here?\""
}
] | 163 | 476 |
315 | 2020-09-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "ventruepatrician7",
"message": "Lord William Guiscard\nEagle's Keep\n\n\"Where is he from?\", asked William. Robert consulted his notes once more, just to be sure. \"He is from Terresol but he has travelled to most of the South and the Middlelands. If we're lucky, he'll be a treasure trove of information\". \n\"He'd better be. Or we will have wasted a perfectly nice dinner on a fat fuck\", mumbled William. His guest was a travelling merchant, Sandor Tailor. William decided that a good first step to getting traders and merchants to set up shop in his fief was to have a personal connection with him. His patrols had been ordered to invite any merchant with sufficient wealth to dine with him. *They're also good sources of information*, he thought. Monitoring the Kingdoms bordering Eagle's Nest would be vital in being prepared to meet their threats if they got frisky. *Or at least ask for help before it is too late*\n\n\"Excuse me for this paltry gift, your Lordship. I did not expect to visit a noble's household\", said Sandor as he handed William a beautiful cloak. On its back, in golden thread, was his sigil, an eagle standing on a pile of swords. \n\"It is an excellent gift. Your entourage did great work in such a short notice. A credit to you and your business. Robert\", replied William, handing the cloak to his Seneschal for safekeeping. \"I hope that the boar didn't sour your appetite for wine\", he added. The huge trader practically lit up at the mention of more alcohol. *Of course, it wouldn't. I don't know what would*, thought William, smirking politely\n\n\"I see that you are without a wife, my Lord\", asked Sandor. The trader was visibly redder as the night progressed but somehow he had the mind to ask coherent questions. \n\"Yes. My recent elevation to this Lordship as well as the significant effort I had to put into it has left me with little time for spouses\", he explained. It was difficult to obtain one here, in the edges of South Feyshore. *And some might sneer at an elevated Lordsblood and not a born one*, he thought. The intricacies of the Caste System vexed him even more now than in the past. He thought that he was in now only to quickly find out that there was a glass wall in front of him\n\n\"Haaaa, marriages. I am married 6 times, my Lord and I've never cheated once. All of my wives believe that we are happily married\", he exclaimed, laughing like there was no tomorrow. William was aware of the ruse. Sailors and traders frequently had family all around. \"A wife in every port as they say. Although I am no sailor\". The man continued his incessant laughter. \n\"There's also another Lord with a similar problem, my Lord. In Terrasol, it is said that a Lord Cad... Chad... A Lord Nasaris can't find a husband for his daughter even though the dowry gets larger by the day\"\nAs soon as Robert heard the word dowry, he became rather interested in the conversation. Rushing to cut in, William simply raised his finger and the Seneschal stopped. \n\"Is she that ugly?\", he simply asked. \n\"No my Lord but she fancies herself more of a warrior than a Maiden. Lord Nasaris' peers are horrified\"\nWilliam arched his left eyebrow. *Is that it?*, he thought. *Propriety getting in the way of self interest once again*. \"So this Lord Nasaris is begging for people to take his daughter and a significant sum of money and the only hickup is that she likes swords?\". William could scarcely believe it. Perhaps his humble upbringing did not blind him as it would a Lordsblood. \nAs soon as he uttered the question, perhaps in sudden realization, Robert stood up and hastily excused himself. \n\"Could you perform a simple task for me, Mr Tailor?\", asked William leaning forward. \"I would pay you good money to deliver a message\"\n\"A message? To whom my Lord\", asked the trader. And William, with a devilish smirk, gave him his answer. \n\"To Lord Nasaris in Terrasol\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack/Hugo\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nThe stone scraped against the sides as Hugo pushed the door in to seal the chamber. He brushed his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before wiping them on his ash-stained pants, which only served to add a grey cast to his hands. \n\nHe paused and cocked his head as she mentioned his age. \"How old are ya? You don't look more than thirteen.\" At the mention of the dead being quiet he laughed. \"The dead speak too, you know.\" He replied, looking back her suddenly serious. \"If you listen closely you can hear their screams in the fire.\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"I am eight-eight-eighht-teen.\" She said, scowling at the younger boy. If she had just stayed in her mother's belly a few weeks more, by now she'd be taller than him - maybe tall enough to unsettle him as much as he unsettled her.\n\n\"Yes,\" She agreed as she walked to the door, assuming that they had finished in the basement,\"Buh-buh-buh-but they don't-they don't require me to-to talk back"
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack/Hugo\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nHugo smirked at her scowl and crossed his arms, leaning back against the stone walls of the mortuary. 'Eighteen?' He let his eyes run over her small frame again. 'Whatever' \n\n\"If Baster wants ya to help with the funeral rites ya better learn how to talk back.\" He replied, moving back towards the stairs across the room. He set a foot on the lowest stepped and turned back. \"That's it. Do whatever you want until Baster calls for you. Don't bother me unless you are dying.\""
}
] | 131 | 1,260 |
192.6 | 2020-11-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nA week ticked by quietly in the Mortuary as Amicia settled into her new home. She liked the new Mortuary, it was quiet for the most part and there were no asters constantly looking over her shoulder or breathing down her neck. \n\nGetting used to Hugo was the hardest part of adjusting. Alabaster's assistant was loud and opinionated and the street rat accent he had acquired sounded brash and cold against her ears. \n\nSometimes when they worked on a body together he would talk and talk and talk and she would think of using the knife she had cut open a chest with to slash his throat open and quieten him - not that she wanted the boy dead by any means. She just wanted peace.\n\nToday, she returned to the mortuary after her first trip to the market, though finding the main floor empty she frowned. She hadn't been told where to put the herbs she had been sent out for yet.\n\nQuiet as can be, she crept down the stairs as the boards creaked under her small weight and held her breath. The basement was dank and cold and had an echo to it that always unsettled her. Going downstairs alone she felt as though any noise she may make would anger a spirit and cause it to push her down them - and it was a long way to the floor.\n\nAt the bottom, she looked through the room to see Alabaster at the dehydration and cooling chamber. She still hadn't been told what that was for. Alabaster wasn't particularly talkative.\n\n\"Huuugo sssaid that uh-that-that that was f-for organs. B-b-bu-but sssaid that you-you would tell me what-tell me- tell me what you do-do with them.\" She said into the echo of the room that made her feel as though a thousands voices were mocking her.\n\nHer stutter always seemed to worsen around Alabaster, she didn't know why this gaunt little man terrified her so much. He was about as small as herself, only much taller. *The sooner I get some lessons*, she thought to herself, *The better*."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary, Stormalong\n\nAlabaster opened the lid of a jar containing a liver and pulled the organ out in the dehydration chamber. His skinny fingers gentle probed the organ, squeezing it to see if any liquid leaked out. A disatisfied frown formed when he pulled his hand away and noticed a translucent substance coating his fingers. It wasn't dry yet. His other hand inspected the clay in the jar and found it to be damp. 'It needs to be changed.' As he moved to pull the jar out of the dehydration chamber he heard the stutter of his newest apprentice. Once the jar had been removed, Alabaster walked past Amicia and set it on the table before disappearing into the darkness to search for the red clay. \n\n\"Say it again. Slower. Feel the words in your mouth before you speak.\" Though she couldn't see, his haunting green eyes were trained on her to see if she would comply."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\n*Feel the words in your mouth before you speak*. \n\nAmicia wanted to yell. In her head she was as fluent a speaker as Alabaster but she thought so quickly that her mouth had trouble keeping up. Her tongue struggled to wrap itself around the sounds that should have been familiar to her.\n\nShe took a deep breath. She wouldn't loose her temper.\n\n\"Hugo sssaid, that was used-used for orrrg-,\" She tried, her mouth catching on the harder sound. She could feel the sting in her nose that would came before tears and bowed her head.\n\n\"I'mmm nnnot-not an id-id-idiot.\" She protested quietly to disguise the shake in her voice. She wasn't upset but anger and fear rose up in her chest. Would she be sent away if she couldn't learn to speak properly?"
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"No, you are not.\" Alabaster replied quietly, his tone matter-of-fact, lacking any indication of mockery. He set the clay onto the table near the jar and motioned for her to set the herbs down on the other side. \n\nBaster's hands began to knead, softening the clay from a dried brick to a malleable consistency. \"You didn't have trouble with the word organ before.\" His eyes moved to her face for a brief moment before returning to the clay. \"Again.\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nShe took another breath but kept her head down, sure Alabaster's piercing gaze would only make it harder for her to get the words out.\n\n\"Hugo ssaid that wass for-for organs, but-bu-bu-b-but,\" Amicia stopped for a moment and took another breath to stop herself from getting frustrated again.\"But he said-he said that you would te-tell me what you do with them.\"\n\nIt was an improvement, she hoped. As she finished speaking she bunched up a hand and gently knocked her knuckles above her temple, feeling the individual bumps of her fingers.\n\n\"I can- I can write inst-ed.\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack \nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAlabasters hands continued to knead, setting aside the clay when he was satisfied it was soft enough. He reached for another handful as Amicia tried again. \n\nWhen she paused his eyebrows rose as he waited for another excuse, but was pleased when she took a breath an continued. *'Better.'* He thought, continuing to work the clay. \n\nWhen she offered to write Baster shook his head and set the clay aside, hands gripping the side of the table as he attempted to meet her gaze. \"You want to be able to speak clearly. If you intend to continue with me, you must be able to. Writing does nothing to help you meet your goal.\" \n\nThe Aster reached for the herbs she had brought and held one up between them. The herb looked like a weed, a mossy green color with small darks bumps filling the surface of each leaf hanging off the side. \"Aliery.\" He nodded for her to try to repeat the name."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAmicia did not meet his gaze, instead she looked at the jarred liver. She never liked the look of livers, of all the organs she had seen, which was all of them really, the liver was one of the more boring ones and she never could understand how people bared to eat them.\n\n\"Ay-lllie-ree.\" She sounded out slowly, letting her tongue and mouth get a feel for the name,\"Alie-. Aliery.\"\n\nShe climbed atop a stool to watch him work. If he needed her to do something he would tell her,\"You-you didn't tell me wh-what you-what you do wi-with them.\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack \nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"Good.\" He nodded approvingly when she pronounced it correctly. He placed it aside and took another handful of clay, letting it roll between his palms. \"On its own it seems unremarkable, but the bumps in the leaves contain an oil that can act as an antiseptic. When you chew it those oils are released and activated. Placing it on a wound will decrease the chance of infection.\" \n\nHe stopped kneading and set the clay aside with the rest and motioned for her to pass the jar containing the liver to him. \"For organs exposed to the elements, this is crucial as they are more vulnerable without their natural protections.\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAs he motioned for her, she hopped off the stool again and took the jar, staring into it as she brought it to him. \n\n\"I mmmeeeant the orrrg-organs. Why do you-why do you preserve them?\" She asked as she set the jar by his hands and glanced up at him for a fraction of a moment then looked away and stepped back. \n\nHer eyes then found the herbs and studied them instead, away from his piercing eyes."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\nBaster met her gaze briefly and smirked when she quickly looked down. He opened the jar with seemingly little effort and removed the top layer of clay, setting it to the side. Moving over to the furnace Baster opened the door and stepped aside as a wave of scorching heat blasted out and heated the chamber. Reaching under, Baster yanked on the stone handle and heaved the stone table out of the furnace to reveal a collection of dried clay disks sitting on top. \n\nHe quickly moved to grab an iron tong and lifted the clay disks from the stone and onto the table - seven in total. Setting the iron tong down to cool, he grabed the kneaded disks from earlier and replaced the dried ones before pushing the table back into the furnace and closing the door. \n\nForehead beading with sweat, he returned to the table and leaned against it, eyes trained on the rising heat from the clay. It was visible and he was entranced by it. \"For the sake of study.\" He answered with a half-truth. They were for study. Some."
}
] | 163 | 1,926 |
180.285714 | 2020-11-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAmicia watched the man work, replacing older clay disks with the newer ones as heat washed into the cold room and she moved to remove the plain knitted jumper she had been wearing and tie it around her waist.\n\nWhen he was finished, she watched the disks as well as they baked and dried like pastries.\n\n\"Why ssstudy them if-if you- if you only work with the-the dead?\" She asked, eyes flicking from the fire to Alabaster then to her hands which she balled into fists and knocked her knuckles together."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack \nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"Is neccessity the only reason to study something?\" He countered, pulling a different herb from the basket to remove the orange leaves from the stem. \n\n\"Or did your previous mentors demonize knowledge and chalk everything up to the will of the Gods?\" Something hard flashed across his eyes, but even if one noticed they wouldn't know what to name it. Baster didn't either."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAmicia was a little shocked at his answer. Of course the Asters chalked everything up to the gods, weren't they meant to? Amicia wasn't particularly religious but the Southern Pantheon *Was* The easiest way to get an education as a shitblood, but of course much of it was attributed to the gods. Wasn't surgery illegal? And what use was studying organs if the knowledge gained couldn't be applied? And what could be learned from an organ removed from the source and soon to rot?\n\n\"Is thaa-at not what Asters are- what asters are meant to-to do?\" She replied, her voice a little softer now.\"I have read holy b-b-books and-and fune-funeral rites but they've never-they've never mentioned studying org-organs. What would you- what would you do with wha-what you find?\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\nBreathy, dark laughter filled the chamber when Amicia suggested Asters were to attribute everything to the gods. Alabaster shook his head and pushed himself up from the table to grab the wooden stool sitting nearby. \"People die when they rely on the gods. If a person is dead, they've already been forsaken.\" He scoffed. \n\n\"The funeral rites we perform as Asters are nothing more than a comforting performance.\" Satisfied the clay was fit snuggly in the neck of the jar with the liver, Alabaster placed the lid back on and set it aside. \"I am an healer who performs religious rites for the dead. I took on the name of an Aster for business, but it is not who I am.\" \n\nFolding his hands in front of him, Baster leaned against the table to give Amicia his full attention. \"To be effective, I need to know how the body works. Even if the blood is gone the skeleton is left behind. Have you ever seen a dried organ cut open?\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"People die regard-regardless.\" She muttered.\n\nAmicia wasn't entirely shocked to hear that Alabaster wasn't an Aster, Hugo had told her something akin the day she had arrived, but she *Was* A little shocked that he admitted to it.\n\n\"I hav-have not. I don't immmagine they look so-they look so different on the- on the inside.\" She answered, shying away from his gaze the more it focused on her. She would rather her boss work away while talking to her but she didn't think she had a choice in the matter."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\nBaster heard what the girl muttered under her breath, but chose not to address it. People died from a variety of causes, but if you sought out a Physic from the Southern Pantheon they would only treat you with the approved medicine. In many cases, that wasn't enough. Baster had saved many lives with his experiments and done more than any Physic devotee would dream of. \n\nA sly smile spread across his face when she determined they didn't look too different on the inside. \"You think so?\" He asked, eyes glimmering with excitement. The wood stool scraped against the floor as he rose and picked the liver jar up. The silence that followed was disturbed by the grinding of the stone door against the floor as Alabaster pulled the handle to open the dehydration chamber. The few muscles he had strained against the weight and he let out a heavy breath when it gave in to his force. Setting the liver jar on the ground, he pushed it towards the back and the clinking of glass suggested he was looking for something else. When he reappeared, Baster held a jar containing a heart and made his way back to the table. \n\n\"This heart belonged to a man who collapsed and died in the market. There are a few potential causes. What do you think they are?\" He asked, opening the jar and removing the clay and heart from it."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAmicia could hear the excitement in the man's voice without even needing to look up at his face again, it wasn't *Unnerving*, though she though it unusual. Then a moment later he seemed to appear by the stone door as it ground against the floor and Amicia pressed the palm of her hands over her ears.\n\nWhen her boss returned, she dropped her hands and stared into the jar he had brought with eyes full of almost childish curiosity now - she'd seen a heart of course but obviously Alabaster had something new to say about it. As he lifted the muscle from the jar her eyes wandered over the veins that covered it, following the path they led until Alabaster spoke.\n\nThe question seemed too vague. How would they know what the man died from from the heart? It could have been a stab wound, an illness or maybe it was just his time. She shrugged.\n\n\"Bad a-ale?\" She suggested, eyes still fixated on the thin veins."
}
] | 191 | 1,262 |
136.333333 | 2020-11-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAlabaster's low, rumbling laugther filled the dungeon at her suprising answer. \"A possibility, certainly. But that would cause death over a period of time.\" Baster reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small knife. \"I kept four organs from the man: his heart, brain, liver, and stomach.\" Alabaster smiled as he felt the muscle of the heart give away to the knife. \"Stomachs don't keep well so I went through its contents to try and determine if he had ingested something poisonous. I didn't find anything other than the remnant of a pathetic last meal.\" \n\nAt this point, the knife had reached the apex of the heart and Alabaster held it out to her for her to continue up the other side. \"We can try and determine death by studying the organs of a healthy body and finding deviations. I suspect this man died of a heart attack.\" His eyes watched her to see if she would take the knife and continue. \"Have you seen a healthy heart before?\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAmicia watched his knife glide through the muscle as Alabaster spoke. She didn't even know that it was possible to determine what someone had ate from their stomach, she just knew how to remove and burn it.\n\nWhen he held out the heart and knife she didn't hesitate to take it and continue.\n\n\"Only from the-from the outside. Thisss one is dark-darker,\" She said, stopping for a moment to tap the darkened apex before continuing with the knife in slow, careful movements,\"Why is it-why is it darker.\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAlabaster nodded at her observation but chose not to answer. \"Where did you say you were from, Amicia? Who taught you?\" \n\nThe young woman in front of him, though many may confuse her for a child, intrigued him. He had brushed her off as overly shy and without a backbone during their first meeting, but she had continuously asked questions, which he admired. Her hand was steady with the knife as well."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"Gorgonys. I wasss brought up in-up in Temp-Temple Mortuary - one of the small-smaller ones.\" She replied as the knife met where the initial incision had been made,\"All of the-all of the asters took part in-in teaching me.\"\n\nBut he still hadn't answered her. Looking up at him, she lifted the heart to show him the apex, the slightest hint of annoyance in her face as her brows knit together.\n\n\"Why is-is-I-is it dark-darker.\" She probed."
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\n*No wonder her outlook is skewed.* Alabaster sneered inwardly, watching as she finished cutting through the muscle. \n\nThe slightest hint of a smile flashed across his face as she held the heart up to him. \"It is abnormal, yes?\" He took the heart from her and split the sections, exposing the ventricles and chambers within the heart. \"What else do you notice?\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nThe Crimson Flow Mortuary\n\nHer eyes narrowed at the non answer. Why wouldn't he tell her why it was like that? Or did Alabaster not know either?\n\nBut as he held open the heart she peered over it, using her fingers to slightly spread the halved arteries where she had spotted something out of place. There was something yellowish inside and as she went to touch it she recoiled her hand from the texture and rubbed her finger against her apron as if to rid herself of the skin that touched it. \n\n\"That's-that's fat?\" She questioned. The colour was similar enough and the texture, as usual, was enough to make her sick.\"Is that mmmmeant to be-to be there?\""
}
] | 121 | 818 |
177.5 | 2020-12-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack \nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"You wouldn't.\" Alabaster folded his arms against his chest and leaned against the back wall, eyes watching the child in front of him prod - seemingly intrigued - at the heart. \"There are things we cannot cure at time of death. A poor diet is one. Had the man survived, it would only have been to die later.\" \n\nAt the mention of Hugo, Baster's eyebrows rose and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. \"Hugo never asked and so I've never taught. He knows the basics to pass as an Aster, though his quick tongue will be his biggest obstacle.\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\n\"You can't currre anything at-anything at the time of dea-th.\" She mumbled quietly and hoped suddenly that Alabaster wouldn't have heard her - she had been told off before for saying things contrary to her teachers (even though she was *Fairly* Certain she was in the right).\n\nThough she was happy to hear that Hugo didn't know more than her, that childish need to know more than the little shit had pulled at her head for the past few days with his constant nattering,\"He's haaard to-hard to listen to.\""
},
{
"author": "astralogical.laura",
"message": "Alabaster Brack \nCrimson Flow Mortuary \n\nAlabaster laughed, though it sounded sickly, and smiled at her comment. \"True.\" He nodded, his yellowing teeth peeking through the lips cracked in a smile. \"But you might be able to patch them together long enough to find a cure.\" Pushing himself up from the table, he pulled the heart towards him. \"Even if they won't survive, it's nice to have a patient to experiment on.\" He shrugged. \n\nAlabaster paused and studied Amicia with his ghostly eyes. She was clever and could be useful. But the question was whether he could trust her. The man leaned forward menacingly and spoke quietly, eyes fixed on hers. \"If you want to learn my secrets, Amicia, I will teach you. But you need to earn my trust.\" He pulled back slightly. \"You were raised religious and have a respect for the dead I do not. Do you still hold to their values?\" His eyes searched hers with speculative curiosity. \"What is your line?\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Amicia de Blanc\nCrimson Flow Mortuary\n\nAmicia had been so transfixed with the heart, poking and prodding, that when it was pulled away from her, it took a moment for her to register and then she had to fight to hide her frown when it did. Then Alistair leaned in and was looking at her with enough intensity that it felt like he could see into her head and read every little thought she was thinking.\n\nShe hoped he could hear how much she hated all of his eye contact, and, that every time he made it she wanted to claw out his eyes. \n\nUnfortunately, it seemed he could *Not*, in fact, read her thoughts.\n\nWhich was good, because she took a good moment to form an answer.\"I *Wasss* Raised relig-religiously, but I am-but i-but I am nnnnott religious,\" She said and let her hands reach up to fiddle with her necklace of stolen lockets as her eyes bore holes into the space between his,\"I will earn y-our trust if-if you let me.\""
}
] | 179 | 710 |
375.333333 | 2022-03-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Frey Atrixson\nAvin\n\nFrey frowned as he walked up and down the line of men, disappointed in the efforts he saw. A few of the men had grown lazy in the past few years, as Frey had come to take a less direct approach. He was getting older, the joys of battle no longer excited him like they once did. His eyes had gained a hard look to them, and his face lacked emotion. There was only reactions there, and rarely were they good. \n\n\"That's enough.\" He said, unable to stand what was going on. The group of ten smiled, before Frey slammed his elbow into the helmet of one and drew his blade, challenging him loudly. \n\n\"Oi, wha' tha fuck?\" The man yelled, a trickle of blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth, and Frey sneered. \n\n\"Weakness. I expect all of my men to be ready for anything, and no doubt you are not. Jaem would be sick to his stomach.\" Frey's nostrils flared as he looked at the Mire standing in front of him. The being drew his blade, and Frey batted his feeble attempt at an attack aside, before shaking his head.\n\n\"Oh would he? I really don't think 'e'll think anything.. Seeing as he's..\" The man said, before the butt of Frey's sword came crashing onto his head, knocking him out. \n\n\"I expect all of you to start working, 'lest you end up like him.\" Frey stretched his shoulders as he turned, sheathing his blade. A small crowd had formed in the town square, and Frey stood, looking down from atop the hill he stood on. \n\n*What.. The hell? The fuck is going on down there?* He thought, before taking a step in that direction. The dirt road he walked on kicked up easy, as it hadn't rained in quite a few days. Frey thought about that as he walked, the symbol of Avin flapping in the wind as the embroidered cape he wore as a symbol of his status rested on his shoulder, drooping down to his waist. Frey frowned as he grew close, and a woman came running up to him. He took her in his embrace, before looking down at her. \n\n\"What's going on?\" He asked, before looking up and around at everyone gathered. A young scout had run down the path, and was now out of breath as he stood in front of the small group of people. He noticed Frey and quickly stood at attention, before Frey uttered at ease. \n\n\"Sir! Whistling.. The old guard... The...\" The man couldn't speak for his attempts at regaining his breath. Frey looked at him, before speaking. \n\n\"Slow down, son. Calm yourself. Explain, slowly.\" He said, before putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder and looking at him. \n\n\"Sir. The forward scouts reported hearing whistling, sounds of marching, sounds of war. Boots hitting the ground in unison, spears, all striking at the same time. But as we got closer, we could hear them clearly. They were whistling the tune of Avin!\" The man said, before pointing. As Frey looked up, a tune reached his ears before he saw it. \n\nThe tattered banner of Avin."
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick\nAvin\n\nAs the column emerged from the treeline, Jaem could see it. The walls and towers of his home. Of Avin. Not a hundred and fifty yards away from them, over open ground he had once cleared with his father's axe. \n\n\nJaem bellowed the command, \"Armsmen to the fore, Triple column in counterpoint to, Step! Step!\"\n\n\nSeamlessly the groups of men within and behind the wagons flowed forwards to form one column, of three by twenty with the banner and Jaem at its head. Their feet landed in perfect time to jeam's call, and the beat of the tune they whistled. Jaem drew his saber, holding it at his side low, pointed upward, and resting it on his shoulder with the edge facing away from him. The scouts and bannerman did the same, and the rest of the pike had theirs pointed skyward. \n\n\nTheir whistling and singing continued, as they neared the city. \n\n\n\"Column March, forward face,\n\nPresent, aim, and fire,\n\nSteps that sound like thunder\n\nIn the rank and files of Mire.\n\n\nBack, Back, Back\n\nThrough the trees and the woods\n\nBack, Back, Back we go.\"\n\n\nThe walls grew larger before them, as did the number of people gawking through the gates, and from the walls. Jaem gave his bannerman a half-grin. They were home, but each man knew there was a discipline to be observed before they would be dismissed. \n\n\nAs they neared the open gate, the keeper stood slack-jawed and staring, his eyes bulging and his mouth moving but making no words.\n\n\nAs they neared and passed into the dirt street of the town, Jeem called to him\n\n \"Pride to Avin, Gatekeeper! Glory to Avin! The Guard Returns!\" \n\n\nJaem led the column, up the road past confused and surprised residents, stopped dead in their tracks and they too staring from rhe side of rhe road, from shop fronts and upper windows. They were finally home."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Frey Atrixson\nAvin\n\nFrey's cold demeanor melted as he saw the tattered flag. His face, marred by disbelief, had an expression that many would try to replicate in the coming weeks as he took a step towards the oncoming men. His eyes told him something his brain knew to be false, that the men who had left 15 years ago had returned. \n\n\"Sir... Do we let them in?\" The young scout began looking at the men, cautiously reaching for his weapon. Frey held an arm out before approaching the large group, sending the scout to gather more men. \n\n\"Halt!\" Frey barked as he reached the men. As he scanned over them, a familiar face caught his eye. Emotions flooded his body, but he stood tall, clenching his jaw. \n\n\"State your business here!\" He barked, looking around. The men all wore Avon's uniforms, but the pieces were ragged, outdated. Even the officers wore pieces with obvious signs of use. The tattered banners all pointed to the conclusion that these men were who they presented to be, but Frey still could not convince himself to believe it. Frey met eyes with the mire with Jaem's face, and fury rose through his body as he drew his blade, holding it at arm's length. \n\n\"That's far enough.\" He said as the man approached him."
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick\nAvin \n\nJaem stopped short and held his free fist up, the column behind him coming to a dead halt and the whistling and singing stopping. He sheathed his sword, taking a step forward from the formation and planting himself firmly inches from the tip of the other man's blade. He silently scanned the man's face for a moment. Frey. Slowly and deliberately, he removed his pipe from his breast pocket, packing it with a thumb as he spoke.\n\n\n\"The 64 Men remaining of the 300 Avin Vanguard Compliment return home, Under my Command. 15 years has been much too long, Frey\"\n\n\nHe frowned, studying his former seconds wavering blade and confused angry expression. In front of the man's blade, he stood immovable, as the stone that the city was built on. He looked past the man, to the gathering soldiers and civilians mulling about the gate. He raised the pipe to his mouth and lit it, puffing it absently. \n\n\nHis men stood behind him, in perfect formation and discipline, awaiting their orders. Some gripped pikes nervously, confused as to why they were being barred entrance.\n\n\n\"We only wish to return to our homes. The forest floor makes a poor bed.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Frey Atrixson\nAvin\n\nFrey stood there for a moment, holding his blade out as he looked at the person standing before him. The usual stone demeanor of his was now replaced by one of rage and sadness, both combining into a strange emotion that Frey was trying to maintain. \n\n\"You look like him, you sound like him, hell you even have his fucking pipe. But Jaem Marwick is dead. I led the search for him. For three years we looked. Every. Single. Day. So you need to tell me right now who the fuck you are.\" Frey said, spitting out each word as he looked at him. \n\n\"I'm not asking nicely.\" He said, his men walking up behind him. Cries of joy rang out as brother recognized brother, as father recognized son, and as widows recognized husbands. As Frey stood in front of Jaem, he held his hand out, holding the crowd forming behind him back. \n\nThere was a nervous energy building as Frey held his sword out. His eyes narrowed, and his sword slowly lowered, before looking at Jaem again. \n\n\"What happened to you?\""
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick\nAvin \n\nJaem smiled slightly at the crowd behind frey, nodding. He expected this confusion after them having been gone for so long. Much too long. \n\n\n\"I am Jaem Marwick, Son of Harel Marwick, Founder and First Field Governor of Avin\" He stated solidly. A gasp rushed over the crowd. They recognized him, but just as frey was in disbelief, they were too. \n\n\n\"We were hunting down the last of those... Creatures. Our bout was fairly successful until we stopped to rest and drink at the river. Then...\" Jaem stopped, frowning and looking down. He looked back up and met Frey's eyes, his own emerald eyes cast in sadness for a moment. \"Many Died. Monsters and kings-men chased us into the forest. You see before you those who remain of the 300. We have spent every day, for the last 15 years, marching and trying to find our way home\"\n\n\nHe looked up at their tattered banner, around at his men's uniforms, and his own. He saw the expressions of longing on his men's faces, to join their brothers and families behind frey. He looked back to the other man, waiting for his response. \n\n\nHis men, in unison, brought forth the final verse of the Avin March.\n\n\n\"On and On and On we'll March\n\nThrough oceans and plains and hills again\n\nFrom defeated foe and on back home\n\nTo Mireholm Again\""
}
] | 301.5 | 2,252 |
382.333333 | 2022-05-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faxius._",
"message": "Xel'Quinn Oathmoon\nThe woods near Sonder\n\nWhen the bandit crew got word of new orders, the contingent of ruffians began moving out at the behest of the fledgling Lord. \nThe air around the camp seemed to release tension as they finally had a chance to move \nQuinn refrained from smiling as this was his first dealing with these kinds of individuals and was seemingly quite successful at it. \nThings were going to plan \n\n\"When you and your men get to Nighmont hold, Commander Landon will brief you on your assignments understand? I expect you to pass that message down to your subordinates\"\nAnd before the leading man could Quinn walked away, beginning the short hike back to the road, where the carriage rested, guarded along side the Oathmoon soldiers.\n\nThe group was not exactly subtle, stomping on twigs instead of avoiding them, shouting and laughing.\nAs the tension left the group"
},
{
"author": "dylansbiggesthater",
"message": "***Harlow Trueman***\n***Somewhere on the roads in South Feyshore***\n\nHarlow was finishing up his food, when a distant sound caught his attention. However, Whitefoot must've caught it first, as his eyes had already been scanning the treeline. Keeping watch for any kind of danger. Harlow smiled. He loved how protective Whitefoot was of him. He truly was a gift from Cenja. However, that smile had quickly vanished as the noises got louder. Distant voices, laughter, shouting. They weren't trying to hide their presence at least. Maybe that's a good thing..? Or maybe a bad thing..? Harlow didn't know. He was naive to what the outside world from his village was actually like.\n\nHe quickly put out his fire and wrapped up his meager belongings into a sack before letting out a whistle, motioning Whitefoot to stay close. He put his remaining belongings on his horse, tying it to the saddle. A man who was used to travelling the roads, and experienced in it, would probably know better than to follow a large group of men travelling through the woods, but Harlow wasn't experienced. But he *Was* Curious. He wanted to see them for himself. *Plus, how bad can people really be?* He wondered. He glanced at Whitefoot. \"And anyways, no one's gonna mess with me with you around boy.\" He said out loud, as if Whitefoot understood what he was saying. \n\nAfter double checking his camp, making sure he had everything packed up, including his staff which was now strapped to the side of the horse for easy access, as well as a bow and quiver on the other side of the horse, for more easy access, he mounted his horse and followed the sounds of the crew of men, which wasn't difficult. They were pretty loud. And Whitefoot seemed pretty eager to check them out as well, as he padded further ahead, keeping to the shadows and bushes.\n\nIt didn't take long for Harlow to catch up. However, he attempted to keep himself hidden within the trees. He pulled his cloak over his head, and stayed well behind the group. But close enough to keep them in sight. Harlow had also lost sight of Whitefoot, but he wasn't worried. Whitefoot knew better than to attack without Harlow's command. Odds were, Harlow was well within Whitefoot's field of view. And that's all that mattered. \n\nHe attempted to try and count how many people were with the large group of men, and checked his coin purse. He still had quite a bit of coins leftover from his time in Araedia. Perhaps he could make a trade with the group? To encourage an interaction? *I'd best watch them for a bit first. Make sure that it's safe to approach.* He decided."
},
{
"author": "faxius._",
"message": "The leader of the bandit group snarled at Xel'Quinn feeling as if his command role was being taken away from him by a much younger whelp. \nStill, Quinn kept a neutral expression on, as to not aggravate the leader further \n\"I know what you think of me \"\n\n\"An stupid brat who has no business being in command\"\nThe leader quickly retaliated and Quinn stared at him with a rather dissatisfied look to his face\n\"Had you said that to my father he would have killed you in front of your men, right here, then dragged your body back to Nighmont hold, only to feed you to our dogs. \nBut I'm not that man, I never was. So here is what is going to happen with you-\"\n\nAn Oathmoon crossbowmen hailed Quinn then placed the palm of his hand on his chest \n\"Grand Duelist\"\n\"Captain\"\n\n\"The Commander wants to speak with you, he has a suggestion and wishes to speak to you in private\"\nQuinn scrunched his eye brows and nodded once\n\"Tell him once we're on the road we can talk\"\nThe captain nodded in kind and jogged off. \n\"As I was saying- instead I will make sure you are in the vanguard of the assaults I send you to do and if I hear any arguments you'll learn first hand how my father delt with insubordination, Don't forget why you're here.\"\nHe then held his breath before saying\n\"Get out of my sight now\"\n\nThe leader did not wish to risk his position by commenting so with a snaral simply backed away. \nWhich gave Quinn room to take a deep breath and close his eyes\nBefore scanning the area around him for scouts. \n\"No one\" He whispered \n\"Good..\""
}
] | 368 | 1,147 |
196.6 | 2022-08-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "After being guided to where he could leave his carriage home and horses to rest, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and fed his horses well. After attending to his animals he locked down his carriage and headed towards the heart of the town to explore. But first, he desperately needed a proper meal to set him for his coming adventures through the streets. He entered a nearby tavern seeking to satiate his hunger and instead, he found a man who looked strangely familiar. He paused for a moment and stared at him from a distance. Thinking that his eyes might have deceived him, he rubbed them with his hands before getting another good look. \"Is that really him?...\" He asked himself doubtfully."
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick\n\nAvin\n\n\nHe started into the bottom of the drink for a long moment. His comrade sat next to him, doing much of the same. They had talked for a short while, of his journey, and of his experience in the queen's court. The bannerman's report gave Jaem much to think about, but his thoughts seemed merely to float across the surface of the white noise that filled his mind. \n\n\nAfter a few moments of silence, a feeling came to the front of his attention. A feeling of being watched. He made no turn of his head, or motion to seem as if he had noticed. To the untrained eye, he seemed to relax into his chair, one hand falling to rest in his lap. A trained eye would notice the hand stealthily gripping the blue and yellow cord-wrapped handle of his long curved saber. \n\n\nHe turned slowly towards his comrade, the movement giving him just enough. Of an angle to see a young man standing in the doorway, most blatantly gawking at him. Jaem sighed and relaxed his grip on the sword hilt. He did not recognize the boy, but there were many he did not recognize"
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\nHe took a step forward with the intention of talking to the man, but he hesitated. It looked like he was busy chatting with a group of people. Lei assumed that they were the man's friends or comrades. When the man turned to look at one of those seated next to him, Lei did get a glimpse of his features, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. He really did look exactly like the man he read about some time ago. He approached the man and gave him a friendly smile before joining them at the bar table. He did make sure to leave the man and his friends some room. \"Beautiful day, isn't it? This town is much more amazing than I imagined.\" He seemed utterly oblivious that the local made the motion of gripping his weapon. Judging by the appearance and body language of the young engineer, he was a naive tourist. The way he dressed emphasized that he was from a foreign land, as he sported a fine leather coat that had a distinct design to those in the local shops."
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick\n\nAvin\n\n\nHis misty green eyes turned and met the young man's for a moment, before giving a slight nod. \n\n\n\"A beautiful day indeed.\" He replied, his gaze resting on the newcomer. He looked at him, but seemed at the same time to look through him. His lips wore a smile, but it did not touch his eyes. \n\n\n\"Aye, Avin has truly become something\" He added. His hand returned to the countertop. This man was of no threat to him, that he could see from the moment he sat down. Idly he reached into his tunic pocket and pulled out the wooden pipe he was so well known for. A small piece of wick he produced with it, which the barkeep lit off a lantern for him. He began to puff, eying the fine cut of the mans coat and clothing. \n\n\n\"From where do you hail, young man?\""
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\nAfter taking his seat and making himself comfortable he eyed the arrangement of liquor displayed on the shelves. When he heard the man's reply he looked over and offered a happy smile. He was very excited to get to know him. \"Yes, I've heard about the competitions they hold here, I'm so curious to learn how the blacksmiths do it.\" \n\nHe eyed the pipe briefly as it was revealed and lit by the lantern. \"That is a beautiful piece there.\" He complimented as he studied the design of the familiar pipe. \n\nHis hazel eyes returned to meet the older gentleman's when he was asked of his provenance. \"Ah, I come from Azarya.\" He smiled at him warmly. \"I am a travelling engineer, sir.\" \n\nHe extended a hand over to shake his, \"Lei Linas, sir. Its a pleasure.\""
}
] | 193 | 983 |
121.2 | 2022-08-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\nHe looked over when he was asked the question, offering a small smile. \"Ah, well... I want to learn of new ways I can improve. What ever helps me give people what they need. Transportation, tools... Maybe even a good way to keep their homes safe.\" \n\nCurious eyes trailed towards the pipe when the older man emptied the ashes into his palm. Lei just stared for a good two seconds before realizing what he had just witnessed. He gasped and covered his mouth. \"Woah- W-wait, doesn't that hurt??\" He pointed to the ashes in his palm in shock. He cringed in his seat as he imagined the pain the other man was probably going through."
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick | Avin\n\n\nJaem looked from the other man down to his already forgotten palm, and let out a soft laugh. \n\n\n\"Not at all,\" He chuckled, \"My hands are calloused from work, and the ashes were no longer hot. It was a dead pipe\" He grinned, rubbing his two hands together and scattering the few remnants of ash from his hands to the floor. The man before him's youth showed plainly, he had clearly never smoked."
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\n\"Huh? Oh...\" He rubbed his neck and smiled, letting out a small laugh. \"That's good then. I'm glad it didn't burn you.\" He eyed the pipe then the ashes that fell to the floor. \"That makes sense...\" \n\nHe looked down at his own hands, which were also quite worn from all the building he has done with them, although, his habit of wearing gloves while working helped with keeping his skin softer than usual. He closed his palms to get his mind to focus back on the conversation.\n\"May I please know what your line of work might be, sir? Perhaps you are a soldier?\""
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick | Avin\n\n\nHe frowned for a moment at the question. It was a hard one to answer. Yes, he had been a soldier for a long while now. But he used to be much more. A long while ago, much more. \n\n\n\"I was a Leader of men. I have seen my share of fighting, chopping firewood, Mason and smith work. I have dealt with kings and knights, lords and ladies.\" He fell silent for a moment, his eyes falling down towards the floor.\n\n\n\"I founded this city\" He spoke slowly, his fervor diminished. \"But that was long ago\""
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\nHe noticed that Marwick was upset, he hoped that asking this did not cause him too much trouble. He looked a little worried for him, wondering what he might have been thinking. \n\nThe young man listened when the other spoke, hearing the heaviness in his voice. Lei could only wonder what might have happened aside from the war. \"Is it alright if I ask what happened? You seem so... Sad...\""
}
] | 128 | 606 |
113 | 2022-08-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick | Avin\n\n\nHe removed his cap and ran his fingers through his dirty ginger hair. He gave the young man before him a sideways glance. \n\n\n\"You have traveled far to come here. I will answer you, but what do you already know of the history of this place?\". It was unusual for someone to be so... Concerned over the feelings of someone he barely knew. Perhaps this one was truly Young and naive, seasoned."
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\nLei was easily intimidated by the side eye Marwick gave him. His eyes moved down timidly as he twiddled his thumbs. \"Well...\" He glanced to the side briefly before forcing himself to meet the other man eye to eye once more. \n\n\"I know just a little, about what happened to the town? I'm familiar with the reason why all of your people are so skilled at mass producing quality products, and I heard about the competitions from an acquaintance in the trade.\" He smiled faintly. \"I just really am amazed with how skilled you guys are at smithing. Its an honor to be here.\""
},
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick | Avin\n\n\n\"Then you know the good things\" He chuckled, waving a hand in an effort to ease the boy. \"Easy, I mean no discomfort to you\"\n\n\nHe swallowed and set his hat and pipe upon the bar. \"In the early days, we were besieged, that much I'm sure you know. We were with victory then. Afterwards, many in town were killed by poison. I was in the field with my men and, well we were also affected. That was fifteen years ago. Those of us who survived... We returned not two weeks ago\""
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | Avin \n\n\"Ah, sorry.\" He chuckled lightly and smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. \n\nHe listened as Marwick begin to share the story. He nodded in response to the statement of him knowing about the siege. The mentioned of poison taking lives then shocked Linas, causing him to cover his mouth. \"What?! That's horrible.\" He whisper yelled. \"Who would even do such a thing. That's so cruel.\" He frowned and looked down at the table."
}
] | 113 | 452 |
321 | 2022-11-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gmacarthurr",
"message": "Jaem Marwick\nThe Bloody Lane\n\nJaem nodded at the young engineers descriptions of society at large and his own home. Indeed, every city and town did have its own rhythm, ebbing and flowing naturally in broad strokes of day and night. \n As they walked, his head was on a slight swivel, smiling and murmuring hushed greetings and farewells to those few people that passed that he recodnized, or that recodnized him. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaem noticed a figure trailing them at a distance. The person stuck to the shadows carefully; but there was no doubt in his mind they were being followed. \n\n \"Come this way\" He spoke, turning down one of the narrower side streets that cut in between two of the taller stone buildings that they approached after a moment. Immediately upon turning into the entrance of the street, Jaem stepped to the side to lean against the wall, his large frame hidden from view of the entrance to what was a glorified alleyway. He motioned for Alpheaus to come next to him. \"We are being followed. Wait\" He instructed. His eyes took on a harder, eagle eyed look of a soldier. His hand lay on the hilt of his saber, and his pipe streamed smoke upwards to be scattered by the wind."
},
{
"author": "alphaeus",
"message": "Lei Linas | The Bloody Lane\n\nLei walked alongside him happily, very much distracted by the scenery around him. When he heard some passing people greet the man beside him, he couldn't help but feel happy for him. It must be nice to be a respected soldier. It made his mind wander. What if he grew up in a noble family? How different would his life be as a knight? He could only imagine the magnificent scenery and architecture back in The Keep Sempiternal. The very first castle he has ever visited. He wondered if he would have been living in such a grand place if his life turned out differently. The memories of the noble palace then roused some darker memories to creep back into his mind. Memories of the dark forest and the knightly figure who robbed him of his image, twisting it into one he did not recognize. Lei could only wonder; If he was a knight, would he be destined to become that monster? He stared at the distant buildings idly as a look of fear crossed his expression.\n\n*\"Come this way.\"* \n\nMarwick's voice snapped him back into reality, causing the young engineer to look up at the soldier obliviously. When the serious tone in his voice registered in the blacksmith's mind a worried expression was seen reflected in his eyes. He did what he was told quickly, worrying that something horrible was about to happen. He pressed himself against the wall firmly and unintentionally held his breath in an attempt to stay completely silent. Hazel colored eyes darted from person to person, watching each individual who crossed before the entrance of the alleyway."
},
{
"author": ".kimno",
"message": "Illovalor Wingrove | The Bloody Lane\n\n\nIllovalor tailed the men carefully. He was fully concentrated. He couldn't let himself be heard or seen, but if the man was Jaem, that would be unlikely. He was almost as concentrated on not being detected as he was scanning the body language and movements of the Mire and his companion.\nEven from a distance, he had noticed that the man that he supposed was Jaem looked more tired, worn out. Now that he thought of it, Jaem had disappeared with a force of 300 men, but the camps that he had encountered recently could only fit around 70 Mires comfortably. He must have lost a great number of friends in that time, that amount of loss must have weighed him down during all that time.\n\nAs he observed the two, a hundred feet in the distance. He noticed a change so slight that he would have missed it if he blinked. The man that would be Jaem had tensed very slightly for a moment before he spoke a few hushed words and had walked into a smaller side alley. Illoavlor had been spotted.\nHe felt victorious. If he had been noticed then this was without a doubt Jaem. Not any Mire commoner could have felt him moving at his most silent in the shadows, yet this one had.\n\nStill, the situation had its downsides. He was sure that if he continued moving he would probably get confronted in an unfriendly manner, but he also had no other practical way of speaking to them face to face without potentially losing the trail. So he continued, slowly, cautiously.\nExpecting only the worst when he entered that alleyway, he turned the corner, making sure to stay a few meters back in case a sword came for his neck."
}
] | 327 | 963 |
239.75 | 2018-11-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King slowly opened the door to his office, hardly noticing the glow of the lantern in the corner. Mikhail had been sitting there for some time. It left him uneasy.\n\nThere was something that left him _very_ uneasy about Mikhail. He had mourned. He had closed off the boys room, sectioned away all of his favorite books from the his library, began to commission a patch of flowers in his honor. He had cried, if only for as long as a man like Bradai Maith would allow himself to. He had lost a boy and gotten over it, gone so far as to accept the loss. And then the letter came in. HIs eyes and ears had found Mikhail alive and well, in the hands of Nathaniel Vivayn, of all people. His retrieval was quick enough, like picking an apple from a branch. It had been too easy. \n\nThe Pirate King didn't believe in spirits. He had never seen a ghost, and he didn't plan to any time soon. But there one was, sitting across from him, taking up almost no space at all. Quieter than usual, content with sitting in window sills and soaking up the sun like a potted plant. This wasn't a case of miscommunication. Bradai hadn't mistakenly assumed that he was dead, the assassination took place in front of him. The boy was dead, and now he wasn't. Whether or not he was alive was beyond him, but he was certainly not dead. \"Evenin'.\" He said. Bradai pulled out an inkwell and began to pen a letter to his daughter."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail glanced up as the door opened, and Maith walked into the office. That familiar one-two-three of his steps as he passed through the office to his seat. He watched quietly, there was no initial reaction to him sitting in the corner, and it wasn't until the man had taken a seat that he was addressed. \n\n\"Evening.\" Mikhail replied, his finger lingering over the gold leaf trimmed corner of the book on his lap. He contemplated closing it and dismissing himself, but his eyes went to the inkwell and parchment Bradai reached towards. \"Something hasn't been sitting right with me.\" He said, finding no reason to start off with asking if he was allowed to speak. Nothing felt real anymore, even the customs of conversation. \"The Manor has been awfully quiet. Is it just because of the season, or has the world shifted so drastically since..\" He paused, unsure if he was supposed to measure time since his own murder or his botched resurrection. \n\n\"Things are different.\" The boy's silver eyes shifted downwards to the book in his lap once more. \"And I've started to wonder if we should consider putting things back the way they were.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"Hmm?\" Bradai looked up from his paper to see Mikhail sitting there, thumbing along the side of his book. \"Tha Manor 'as been a little quiet lately. A welcome change, I'd say. Vhere was talk uff war after Astoria.\" A pang of awkwardness filled his chest. Should he even talk about that? The boy was there, he knew first hard. Even so, was it taboo to bring it up? \"All cleared up now, fankfully.\" \n\nHe set his quill sideways, over the parchment. \"Fings will get busy 'ere fairly soon. People'll get off tha water for tha wet season, too rough to travel between islands and tha fishing will be good off tha coast. Maybe we can show you more uff tha city. It wouldn't be a stret—\" He was interrupted.\n\n\"Yeah. Fings are different around 'ere.\" He pursed his lips and reached for the glass at the corner of the table. It was empty. He slowly released it quietly clasped hsi hands. \"Everyone always wants fings to go back to tha way vhey were. It's a fools errand, boy.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail heard the glass sit back on the desk, and the ringing in his ears filled the silence of the office when Bradai stopped talking. Almost immediately he gathered his courage and his eyes lifted to the man. \n\n\"You, and everyone I have met since Lord Vivayn got his hands on me has walked on their toes around me. I frighten the staff. I frightened his, and mothers. You look at me sometimes like you expect me to disappear.\" His lips pressed together, and the boy finally closed the book in his lap, setting it aside and back onto the shelf to his left. \n\n\"Is it time to consider the idea of putting me back in the ground where I belong, King Maith?\""
}
] | 241.5 | 959 |
271.428571 | 2018-11-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "He placed a hand over his temple, pointer finger and thumb resting over his temples. He looked back down towards his work. He hadn't expected Mikhail to be in the office. All he wanted to do was write a simple letter. \"If I could dedicate tha time to studying your particular ailment, I would, Mikhail.\" He didn't want to feel this uneasy. \"No one knows vhat you're 'ere. My eyes and ears are telling me vhat most uff tha people in mainland Marin will probably not even believe tha story uff your resurrection.\" He didn't blame them. He could still already believe it himself. The Pirate King stood from his desk, making his way over to the drink cart. He had been thirsty the whole night, but with the advent of this conversation, his tastes turned more from water to whisky. The bottle was removed from the cart and the cork popped off the top. \"I will send a messenger to tell your _wicked bitch_ of a muvher to not brag about 'er newfound magical prowess to anyone and—\" Slowly, the glass was filled with a dark amber. He brought it to his lips and, what at first appeared to be a gentle sip evolved into a long draw that left the cup empty. He let out a long, breathy sigh. \n\n\" 'ow do you feel about Azarya?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail raised a brow. No one knew he was here? Althea had snuck him in under the cover of night, and since then he'd spent his time within the manor. He supposed he just _assumed_ word had gotten out. Something about it made him uneasy, and for a brief second he wondered if he should have come here either. Mother was overwhelming, Bradai was... Drinking malt whiskey at the early hours of the morning just to handle a conversation with him. \n\nHe pressed his lips together, some soft of temper flaring at hearing Bradai call his mother a wicked bitch. \"I would give the woman more credit than that. She doesn't even know what she can do, when I was home she didn't seem to act on it at all and from what I could tell no one knew outside the castle.\" \n\nHe paused, and cocked his head to the side, a crack sounding with it. \"I don't have any opinions on it, I've never been. Why?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"She's a damn fool. You know vhat as well as I do.\" He poured himself another glass. \" 'ow could someone like Vivayn send 'is men all tha way down 'ere? Especially after she let your murderer slip frough 'er defenses? And now she's blessed 'erself wiff some kind of terrifying dark magics? She doesn't 'ave tha f— the faintest clue.\" He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.\n\n\"If I sent you to Azarya, would you resent me? Its so far out of the way of mainland Marin. No one would be able to find you, and you could come 'ome if you pleased. But...\" He closed his eyes in frustration, sipping from glass. His sigh made the surface of the whisky ripple. \"Vhey would know, tha Academy would know 'ow to give you tha best quality uff life. You know vhats what I want for you.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "He didn't know how to answer his questions. Obviously, he hadn't been around to see things play out, he just knew he woke up in the North. Vivayn had dragged him out of a happy afterlife and into the hands of a brute as a chess piece. And he'd won because of it. He remained silent as Bradai pushed his hands through his hair, and his heart stopped when he continued on.\n\nHis eyes widened for a second before he intentionally pulled them away, over to the bookshelves that lined the wall. Suddenly the emptiness in his chest turned to a pounding, and he swallowed thickly, trying not to let that temper that had already flared a bit rise any more. He was hungry, and lonely, and he'd returned to the Isles _at his fathers request_ only to now be sent away. Of course he'd resent the man, he thought he would always have a home here. The bond they'd had before must have been temporary, exclusive only to the Original Life and not the undead being in the corner of the man's office now. When he finished speaking, Mikhail kept his eyes locked on the spines, though his gaze was distant.\n\n\"No.\" He said, his voice tight. \"Send me wherever you please.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Bradai watched as Mikhail grew distant, his gaze faltering and moving past him. \"Don't do vhat.\" He stood from his desk with glass in hand, extending his pointer finger and sighed. \"Don't act like I'm not taking care uff you. What do you want me to do? Because I can't be a favher to you. Not now. Not while you're in obvious pain. I watched you fuckin' die. I watch you get run frough wiff twenty different blades and because uff tha world's foolishness you'd 'ave me do it again. I don't want you dead, and I don't want you 'ere collecting dust. You came 'ere to study and to be a ruler, vhis isn't tha end uff your journey, not if you don't want it to be. But I can't 'elp you wiff vhat you're stuggling wiff. I don't like vhat. I 'ate vhat I'm unable to. It's not like reading or maffs or 'istory. Its magic. My court mage isn't a necromancer. 'is bruvher is.\"\n\nHe polished off the glass and sighed, \"You would've been excited at the prospect uff vhis adventure. Now you're scared. You 'ave every right to be, you've experienced tha worst. But I will protect you vhis time. I will not leave it up to chance, or anyone else to protect you. I want to send you where you can be safe and you can continue your studies, I'm not giving you away. When you were injured, your muvher sent you to someone she knew could take care uff you. I'm doing tha same, because I know she doesn't 'ave the sense to do it again. So don't get pensive and brooding. I know enuff people like vhat.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "His gaze shifted, but it was hard as Bradai explained himself. He didn't need it, but admittedly he was glad the man gave it. The blonde boy gave the man a long look, and blinked in surprise to find tears in his eyes. One rolled down his cheek and his lips parted, a hand moving quickly to wipe at it. He hadn't cried since he'd come back. He hadn't felt _anything_ as intensely as he felt the worry that he'd disappointed the man. Being scolded wasn't exactly the feeling, but it was the first time since he'd woken on that table that someone was being honest about what the hell was happening to him.\n\n\"Don't think this is limited to you. I cried when mother sent me from Vincentien as well. I didn't know who I would be on the other side of the world alone. I don't know who I am _now._\" He glanced at his hands, one wet from the tear as he let the others slide down his pale cheeks freely. \"This body doesn't feel right. It's too tight, it hurts to move most days, and I don't want to look like Anyanka Durkhan's weak son before another stranger. Bastard is a fairly new title, but it's beginning to feel fitting between all of this.\" He cleared his throat and pushed his hand through his chopped locks. They'd never grow back to their original length, and he assumed it was for the better.\n\n\"I'm not getting pensive or brooding, I'm trying to process starting over once again. Don't fault me for wishing otherwise. I'll go to Azarya, and I'll do as I always do.\" Mikhail gave a tired twitch of a smile, but it didn't last long before it disappeared. \"When?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "He shrugged, running his fingers along the side of his desk and opening up the top drawer. His fingers shifted through two stacks of crisp handkerchiefs. He took the one from the top and placed the embroidered black cloth on the desk. He took the one underneath it, white with gold edging, and handed it over to the boy. It was, in a strange way, nice to see him cry. A bit of humanity. \"I'm sorry if it comes off a little 'arsh. Its not the intention. You know vhat.\" He pursed his lips, \"You really shouldn't know 'oo you are. Not now. You're young.\" He worried about the boy, that his body would stay the same age and he would die inside of it. It would be a relief to know that he was in more capable hands. \"Whenever you fink you're ready and tha proper arrangements 'ave been made.\""
}
] | 260 | 1,900 |
213.375 | 2018-11-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail took the handkerchief that was offered, and cleared his eyes of the tears that still threatened to spill over. He was a mess, Bradai was right about that. He listened when he spoke, and nodded when he said it wasn't his intention to be harsh. He hadn't thought that was the case, but it was nice to have the reassurance he wasn't intentionally being cruel and trying to get rid of him. \n\n\"I may not grow past this, now's as good a time as every to begin learning who I am.\" He commented, and folded the white and gold around his fingertips. \"As soon as the arrangements are made I'll head out. I'd rather not delay any answers Azarya may offer me. If you think the necromancer can assist me, I suppose it's the best shot we've got.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King settled back into his seat and gave a soft nod. \"I can assure you, boy. It's the absolute best chance we 'ave at giving you vha life you deserve. I appreciate you being understanding. Well, Mikhail, I'll get to it immediately.\" A soft smile crossed his lips and he dug into his desk, removing an additional sheet of parchment. He released the glass and picked up the quill, dipping it into the blackened pot before looking back up a the boy. \"If uhm... You'll excuse me, I've got a letter to write.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail nodded, and watched as he headed to his desk. There wasn't really a dismissal, and he wasn't certain if he was expected to stay or not. When he asked to be excused, the blonde boy nodded, tucking the handkerchief into his pocket before finding his book and leaving the office. He made his way through the manor and back towards his own room. He wasn't at all tired, a million new questions flowing through his mind.\n\nMainly, about Azarya. He knew nothing of it besides it's placement on a map. All the times his mother had sat him down on the rugs in her library in Vincentien, teaching him what histories he could, he'd always been more drawn to the south shores, the isles, to Amoroth. They were closest, and what he thought he'd get to see with luck. He couldn't remember the stories of Azarya, but he knew someone in the manor who did. \n\nHe'd never actually _spoken_ to Dimitri. They'd seen each other in passing, but he'd never said a word to the man, and he was almost sure the man didn't even know who he was. Why would he? He stopped a servant on her way down the hall, asking if she knew where the Viceroy might be, and was given vague instructions to try the balconies or the bedchambers. Deciding the balconies was probably the less embarrassing situation, he headed that way."
},
{
"author": "xx_xanxibar_xx",
"message": "The Viceroy in name only was, in fact, perched in a balcony for a quick cigarette. He passed his thumbnail over the embossed surface of his case to appreciate the resonant taps and clicks more than he'd ever care to admit. ...Not that he had anyone remotely interested enough in the minutiae of his day-to-day life for the opportunity to present itself. As he opened it, he looked to the perfumed candle sitting atop the small table to his right. \"Of course.\" It had gone out while he was occupied by his simple auditory and tactile treat. More annoyed than he'd been in almost three days, the man leaned far over in his seat, took the wick between his thumb and first finger, and reignited it. As a creature of habit, he plucked a cigarette from the case and moved to hold it over the candle's flame. But why? He was perfectly alone with no-one to cast aspersions for his use of such elementary magic. He placed the cigarette between his teeth, held the tip as he'd done the wick, and shielded the ensuing flame from the wind. ...But it didn't work. The man's brows furrowed and he dipped his chin downward, as if that would allow him to see the end of the cigarette more clearly. The irate mage increased the size and intensity of his flame, but it was still no match for a well-timed breeze. \"<Son of a bastard's whore,>\" He grumbled around the cigarette. Dimitri crossed his arms and sat back in his seat with a petulant scowl upon his tired face, cursing the gods, er, *God* For disallowing him to pursue his vice."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail had found the right balcony it seemed by chance. The soft illumination had caught his eye, and it seemed like a spark of flame appeared before being swallowed by the breeze that came over the hill. It carried the smell of the sea, and Mikhail realized he'd grown to like that smell. Azarya most likely wouldn't be anything like here, or Astoria, and he wondered briefly if he'd learn to like the smell the wind carried there too.\n\nUnsure how to approach the man, he stood in the entry for a full minute before finally swallowing down his nerves and letting his knuckle tap against the rough surface of the stone that constructed the archway. \"Lord Novikov?\" He asked the name as he inhaled, and continued as he exhaled. \"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.\""
},
{
"author": "xx_xanxibar_xx",
"message": "Almost embarrassed to be caught to out of sorts, Dimitri snatched the unlit cigarette from between his teeth, returned it to the case, and corrected his posture all in the blink of an eye. He turned with the intention of asking what one could possibly want with him during his time of leisure, but it died in his throat when he saw who'd addressed him. \"Hmm.\" The man's lips pressed into a thin line and he cast his gaze toward the sights beyond the balcony. It took an active effort to keep his mind ~~blank~~ devoid of any negative thoughts or ideas about the ~~walking corpse~~ boy, lest they'd leech into his words and actions toward him—undeservedly so. \"Of course,\" He said, returning his gaze Mikhail with a contrived smile. With a bare flexion of his fingers, he pulled another chair toward himself and gestured for the lad to have a seat."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The look made him uneasy. Which, was an odd emotion to be feeling. Nerves hadn't gotten a firm grip on him since he'd returned to the living, and in the last hour they'd managed to manifest. Someone would probably call that progress. He nodded, moving to the chair that was indicated to him, and slowly lowered himself into it. \n\n\"King Maith is wanting to send me to Azarya, to see a necromancer, it seems. But, as it turns out, I know nothing of the place, and since it's to be my home for...\" The boy trailed off. \"The foreseeable future, I was hoping you could tell me a little about it.\""
},
{
"author": "xx_xanxibar_xx",
"message": "The mere mention of a necromancer caused Dimitri's expression to fall into judgmental neutrality. The man's tongue darted out to lick his lips at an unnecessarily languid pace and he nodded once. Had he been a touch more uncouth, he would have cracked wise about the impending journey being the poor lad's equivalent of a doctor's visit. \"I see,\" He said, raising brows. The man tucked the cigarette case away in his jacket and drew in a long breath. \"A little bit about Azarya,\" He echoed, seeking to fill the silence as he contemplated where to begin. \"It's a kingdom rich with traditions and many cultures.\" He blinked. \"Some of which are irredeemably incompatible and treated as grounds for civil war after civil war.\" Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to lead with. The morose Lord brought his hand across his chin to stroke a non-existent beard and inclined his head toward Mikhail. \"A good number of its inhabitants are deeply religious and superstitious. In some regions, this leads to a *Dangerous* Ill-ease toward those gifted with or touched by magic. In others, it's as boring a thing as watching a water wheel. What else is there...\" He trailed off."
}
] | 180.5 | 1,707 |
353.5 | 2018-11-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "```Anya.\n\nYes. She is, if you weren't aware, the ruler of the Kingdom of Araedia. She is the mother of Rosaria De Lancret. Most people appreciate her tightening the reigns on Shitbloods after her husband died. You should know how I feel on the subject. Why?\n\nMikhail is doing fine.\n\nForthright with Foresight,\n\nPirate King Bradaí-Daran Maíth, Unifier of the Southern Isles, Conquerer of Amoroth, Breaker of Chains, King of Whispers, and Patriarch of the Maíth Clan, son of Byron II and Tenley Maíth\n\n```"
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "```\nBradai, \n\nAllow me to rephrase: I have no quarrels with Araedia, so why would her name have come up in interrogations with Amalthea?\n\n-Anyanka```"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Bradai removed his reading glasses from his face and set them down onto the parchment. This wasn't enough information to draw any real conclusions from, he knew that. It would make _too_ much sense. He pursed his lips and brought both of his hands to the letter, hesitating slightly before folding the paper back and placing it into the envelope. He would write back later, focus on this later. It wasn't going to be the focus of her day. \n\nHe moved his other paperwork aside and went back to reviewing the business ledgers for the month. Everything seemed to be in place, iron deposits kept being found in Equadia, and the refineries he was building along the coast seemed to be producing quality results. Some of his advisors had even requested a lager sum of money go into infrastructure. It was a delightful change of pace. Despite his best efforts, the holding in Amoroth had been a gold sink, and it was nice to see it finally begin to turn around. He had been planning on bringing Mikhail along before—\n\nHe splayed his hands against the ledger, fingers dimpling the parchment pages. It explained so much. There was no way that a single agent could weasel their way into a greeting party. Juliana must've paid someone off. Hands found their way back to the drawer that contained writing supplies, but were cut short when Ollie entered the office.\n\n\"Your Majesty, I hate t—\" A hand was raised, cutting off the secretary. The boy, nearing his twenties, was sporting a goatee. It was new. \n\n\"What is vhat, Ollie?\" Reddish brown hair had sprung from his chin, forming a little patch of wiry hair. \"It looks just fuckin' awful, mate.\" A silent chuckle came from his throat. \"Shave vhat shit.\"\n\nHis face was bright red. His girlfriend rather liked it, but he wasn't about to tell his boss that. \"Yes, Sir. You have a visitor. She uh...\" He took his free hand, the one not gripping the clip board, and held it from his chest in a cupping motion. \"She said she's an _old friend_?\" Ollie had been around Bradai for a while, and thought it was a bit strange that he was ordering a call girl after all this time. \n\nBradai sighed, waving him off. \"Send vha boys in, make sure vhey're well armed and she's not. Put 'er frough vha proper channels, make sure she's wearing tha proper garb and I'll see 'er.\" He began to leave, \"And Ollie, I've got a tip for you.\"\n\nHe turned around, a small smile on his face, \"Yes, your Majesty?\" He slowly began to hold out his hand. \n\n\"You're not 'omeless anymore. Shave your fuckin' face, mate. \" The secretary gave a nod and left the room."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey hardly dared to show her true appearance around the Maith estate, and so she'd disguised herself as the very woman who'd scarred her skin. Her body was relatively thin, but it allowed her to look more graceful when she moved and less predatory than Audrey's usual prowl. She was still dressed in a commoner's gown and a grey caped hood, having just returned from Mason Carbonnel's temporary residence, though now she had fuller features that made her appear more healthy - rather than a peasant, she resembled a commoner, or perhaps a civil servant of sorts. Middle class or so. Her dark eyes and dark features were kin to those in Amoroth, yet they remarkably ran in a central Marin household. Perhaps there was mysterious ancestry among their bloodline, but this wasn't Audrey's main concern. She'd picked the perfect person to imitate. Evelynn Carbonnel was known to royals, but hardly to their assistants or the common folk, having been scarce among the public eye, yet this was someone that Bradai Maith was fully aware of. She'd been shifting awkwardly (it was all a performance, after all) when Ollie McAllister returned, and her face visibly brightened into a kind smile. She was expecting good news.\n\nOllie looked at her with a similar expression, although he motioned for two nearby armed guards to move farther in. \"This way,\" He said, motioning for her to move ahead of him. She gave a gracious curtsy before gliding ahead and looking about the Estate almost whimsically. This sure brought back memories - it was a symbol of hope for Audrey when she lived in the Littlebridge Islands. Now, it was a place of base operations to her. She exchanged information, checked in, and received orders from here... Though she was hardly considered a Poppy, and she could not be considered a friend. She simply scratched the Pirate King's back, and he seemed to scratch hers. As far as Audrey was concerned, she was doing all she could to live, and the Pirate King was one of the few who didn't seem to want her dead yet. She could respect that. She even appreciated it.\n\nAfter having gone through several pat-downs and being asked to change her clothes, she was finally ushered into Bradai Maith's quarters in a plain gown with no possessions. Bradai had his \"Boys\" He had asked for, and he was face to face with the appearance of Evelynn Carbonnel, right hand to Cheston Carbonnel as well as head of security for the Ibethiel Royal Family before all Hell broke loose. As soon as the door clicked shut, the woman bowed into a deep curtsy. \n\"My king. You have my deepest apologies.\" \nShe was acting quite well, though her voice... There was something familiar to it. Her magic was centered on illusions, though Bradai could likely tell just who was hiding behind this facade. The woman waited for the most powerful man in the room to speak, holding her position gracefully."
}
] | 373.5 | 1,414 |
789 | 2018-11-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "The girl before him gave a subtle twitch as he sighed the name of a long departed soul, though Audrey reacted accordingly. Her body slowly broke her stance, her legs coming together, her hands by her sides, and her eyes set on the ground. Her head was not hung, but tilted slightly downwards. She glanced up at the sound of the cork, only to watch the alcohol pour generously into the glasses. Her body moved forwards slowly on its own, and took a seat across from the desk. Her throat moved slightly as she swallowed what felt like a bundle of nerves. Two delicate hands were folded in her lap, though as the glass passed over the wood, she raised them to rest against the surface just in time to clasp the container of liquor. Audrey wasn't exactly intimidated - she'd had quite the taste for wine before her second home went to shit, and now, even though the smell of alcohol stung her nostrils, she was certain that she would be fine. She was even proud that she'd held her act together in the presence of the man who held all the cards and knew almost everything about her. Her usually cocky attitude came from having a backup plan - here, she had none. Perhaps that explained why her body tensed at the mention of Cheston. Still, he'd asked her a question and had spared her life thus far. She had no choice but to answer, and, judging from his tone, he wanted details.\n\n\"It's difficult to remember, as everything was very quick and chaotic,\" She said, her words soft, her thumbs gently rubbing over the rim of her glass. \"From the moment word of Lucrezia's awakening spread, I knew something was wrong. Shortly after she awoke, word of the Carbonnel Exile spread, and then, without much notice, guards were storming in asking for our heads. I was lucky.\" A bitter smile forms on her features, and while it was Evelynn's face, the gesture was entirely Audrey's. \"You may already know this, but Audrey's birth surname is Carbonnel. I made sure to spout that out to the guards - after all, I believed she was the one behind having our family killed.\" She pulls the glass to her lips, and the scent of the alcohol causes her to wrinkle her nose. Her eyes close as she downs the poison, and it stings her tongue, raking down her insides as it snakes its way down. Gods, she preferred wine, but she wasn't to be picky at this rate. \"My intuition was correct, as usual, and I traded places with the first person I saw when the guards rushed in, who happened to be a maid of the castle.\" Her words stung like the alcohol as the memories drifted back into her mind, but she brushed them away like dust off a bookshelf. Perhaps the alcohol had helped.\n\n\"She cried out for her innocence, but human eyes are deceived oh so easily. No one noticed a thing, and I posed as a maid until their death to gather as much knowledge as I could. I even visited Cheston and Audrey in the dungeon, though it was only to feed them their daily meals. Audrey was beaten unconscious during her stay to prevent magic use, and Cheston... Seemed broken, in my eyes. He was alone in his cell, his cousin and protector beaten in the cell next to him, and every friend he'd ever met as king had disappeared with a new queen. I nearly rescued him, but I could hardly afford the risk. Everyone was suspicious. Even as a maid, I was questioned multiple times.\" She placed her glass on the Pirate King's desk, pushing it forward. It was an ambiguous message, saying that she was either finished or that he could refill it. He could take it as he pleased. \"When their day came, they were marched out to the pavillion. A knight made a speech about the rule of Lucrezia, and how their deaths were to be an example to any who thought to oppose her reign.\" Her hands trembled slightly in her lap as the next memory flashed in her mind - Evelynn's voice crying out just before her neck snapped and she dangled limply from the noose.\n\n\"I... Watched Audrey's death from the crowd, and as the guards moved to remove her corpse, Cheston was pushed up to the stage. The People of Ibethiel murmured in distaste, and Cheston merely stood quietly. It was as if he knew this was how it was going to be,\" She said, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't going to cry - she hardly believed she could, anymore - but if she still had tears, they would have been flowing freely. Instead her expression was as somber as it could be, and it seemed she had difficulty talking about the topic. But this was Bradai Maith, her last lifeline, and he'd asked about Cheston's final moments. \"The only expression I saw on his face was when he saw his cousin's corpse being displayed. His mouth opened as if he had words to say, but his stool was kicked out from under him before he could say them,\" She said quietly. In her lap, her hands gripped each other, as if to still the light trembling that her fingers were doing. As if her words, too, had been cut, she was unable to continue. She'd been careful to play the part of Evelynn, while having Evelynn play the part of Audrey. She didn't have a doubt that Bradai Maith would catch on quickly."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King hardly moved from his position behind the desk, having set the glass of gin to his right. He listened to the entire story and when it reached its conclusion a silence hung over the room. \"Yeah.\" He pursed his mouth and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. For what seemed like minutes, the Pirate King just sat there, nodding softly. \n\n\"Now, can you tell me about the deaff uff Ezekiel?\" \n\nHe hardly waited for the woman to respond before continuing, \"Because I fink my men were in vhat audience too. And vhey fuckin' told me vhat you—\" He pointed a finger at Evelyn, \"—were 'anged. Right next to your bruvher and your fuckin' uncle and Audrey fuckin' Carbonell-Tillotson. Except it _wasn't_ Audrey, was it?\" His tone was nonchalant, hardly focused on the woman before him. \"Because if vhese reports I 'ave 'ere say vhat tha moment 'er fucking neck snapped she became a...\" His voice trailed off and he reached into one of his desk drawers, removed a leather folder, and opened it in front of him. He coughed to clear his throat and lifted the tiny reading glasses from his chest, placing them on the bridge of his nose with one hand and read the paper with the other, \"Huh, yeah, a fourty-somefing male with dark skin and black 'air. Around 'is neck was a silver amulet wiff a—\" He pulled away and looked back towards Evelyn, \"Big fuckin' sapphire.\" He could nearly see the reflection in the diamond she wore on her chest.\n\nHe dropped the glasses, which were caught by their gold chain suspension and settled back against his chest. He stood from his desk, mumbled something about refilling her drink for her, and poured another glass of gin, this time with a marginally higher amount. \"Now save for tha garish necklace, tha man vhat died fits tha very description uff one uff my employees. A man by tha name uff Claudius Bates, 'oose real name is Ezekiel 'argrove. Tha reason 'is name was obscured is because 'e was a fuckin' Black Poppy. Tha very same man 'oo _I_ —\" His tone was rising as he gripped the glass of gin and rounded the table, flanking the seat that Evelyn was in. \"Tha same fuckin' man vhat I 'ad posted to protect you. So yeah.\" He set the glass of gin in her lap and brought a hand to her throat, tearing the necklace from her neck. \n\n\"I take your little fuckin' circus show as an insult to my intelligence.\" He dropped the necklace in the glass and stood up, returning back behind his desk. \n\n\"I will do what Lucrezia didn't 'ave tha sense to do and put you alongside your fuckin family. Don't lie to me.\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey had difficulty following Bradai's words. They seemed to come at her from all directions, leaving her in a haze of confusion and disarray. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant, until the man suddenly declared that the Black Poppy had been buried. It didn't make sense - her charm had more than enough of a charge to last until his burial. That was, unless he'd been stripped of his jewelry when the body was prepared. She could hear the anger in her host's voice as he circled her, like a wild animal approaching injured prey. She hardly had time to grasp the gin when his fingers yanked on the necklace around her collar. The metal dug into her skin before ripping, causing her hands to drop the glass against the floor. It crashed with a clatter, and Audrey could feel the liquid beneath her feet. Her image flickered slightly in a fading fashion before disappearing completely and leaving a disheveled Audrey in the chair. Slowly, her hand reached up to hold her neck, holding herself in the same place the scar had ripped through her skin. She could almost feel the flames now, when she thought about it. At Bradai's last words, a scream ripped through her throat.\n\n\"And do you think I had a choice?!\"\n\nShe'd avoided his gaze all this time, and now she stared at him with giant orbs of emerald. They were panicked eyes, eyes that were backed into a corner. With her left hand on her throat and her right in a fist on her lap, she took a deep breath. \"Cheston and Evelynn were taken first. Claudius was the only one in the room, Bradai, what choice did I have?! Anyone else would take it off easily, and Claudius could hardly fight off the entire royal guard! Do you think... There was... Another...,\" Her voice had been near screams after she'd said her first sentence, and now it faded, as if her hysterics had calmed. There was a long pause before she continued. \"He... Was supposed to make an escape,\" She finally said quietly. \"He was... More suited for it than I am. I can handle myself, but I can't disarm an entire royal guard, I can't just break out of a dungeon,\" She said, bringing her right hand up to run through her hair, holding a handful as if it would calm her somehow. She stays like that for a moment before dropping both of her hands, as if she'd been defeated. \"I could have run, you know? I could have fled to the Witherlands. Or Araedia. Or the South. But instead, I came here. I owed you that much. I owed Claudius that much. So now... If you finish Lucrezia's order, I suppose at least I'll die without a debt to pay,\" She said with a bitter laugh, although it sounded more like a quiet hysterical line for a moment."
}
] | 619 | 2,367 |
228.806452 | 2018-12-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Allaine loved being outside. \nShe could sell an item, beat someone to a pulp, wrestle a shifter, or find scrap. The possibilities were endless! Due to the festival, she'd been working extra hard lately. Her forge had been going almost nonstop for the past week, and even though she'd bathed daily, her body still smelt of smoke and sweat. Her face and exposed body was, of course, smudged with grease and soot from tending to the fire and metals, and they almost seemed like permanent stains on her flesh with the way she'd been scrubbing. Now, dressed in a pair of heavy khaki workpants and a green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, she backpacked through the underbrush of the Isles, brushing branches to the left and right whenever they hung just a bit too low. Her rust-colored hair was pulled back, exposing her neck and the features of her face, which right now, were showing a mixture of wonder and frustration. She was excited to be outside, and she loved the festival - but the bag on her back was bogged down with weaponry, ranging from swords to knives to bows and arrows to light farm equipment. It was a large bag, almost as large as her, and with every step she took, she wobbled slightly uneasily as the bag threatened to throw her to the side. She'd run out of firewood and decided it would be a great chance to try out her latest creations. After all, if they couldn't chop up logs, then they were no use to potential buyers. The girl stepped forward, just as a chipmunk scuttled across the way. She paused mid-step to avoid crushing the creature, but the bag victoriously threw its weight to the right, and she fell with a loud clatter, the swords in her bag having clanked against each other. Allaine struggled for a moment before removing the straps and standing up, leaving the bag on the ground to rub the back of her neck.\n\n\"Aye, it seems the critter's got an eye out for me,\" She sighed, tilting her head to the sky, her eyes watching the sunlight filter through the trees in admiration. \"That, or 'e's tryin' ta end me life,\" She grumbles, leaning down and opening the bag to choose a blade to test, first. This place was as good as any, she supposed."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk Pinewood shed his coat, regretting not packing lighter clothes for a trip to the *Southern* Isles. He had been more concerned with not freezing on his way to the coast, but now that he was on a ship heading South, his shortsightedness was starting to cost him. \"Ship\" Was also a generous term for this naval vessel. Kirk's business trip happened to coincide with a harvest festival in the Isles, and finding transport off of the mainland had proved to be an issue, especially when he needed more personal space for any artifacts or antiques that he may bring back to Ibethiel. He wasn't about to put his treasures in a cargo hold. Kirk had chartered a small private boat for the trip, run by an older man and his young son.\n\nWhen the boat docked in Tonate, the boy helped Kirk unload his bag. \"Thank you.\" Kirk said politely before handing the boy a coin for his trouble. The boy in turn pressed the coin against his nose and tried to snort it, which brought a look of horror to Kirk's face.\n\n\"Sorry.\" The man said, taking the coin from the boy. \"Most people who rent us out pay him in drugs.\"\n\n\"Drugs!?\" Kirk asked. \"How old is he? 9? 10?\"\n\n\"I'm seven!\" The boy said with a volume larger than needed for their close proximity, grinning.\n\n\"Many of our charters are of the less reputable sort.\" The man added.\n\n\"Yes... I saw the stains in my cabin.\" Kirk said uncomfortably.\n\n\"Yeah, at a certain point you just think: Is it really worth cleaning every time?\" The man said, shrugging. \n\n\"I know *I* Would have appreciated it.\" Kirk hinted not so subtly. With a handshake, the Royal antiquities dealer parted ways with the small crew and went to find lodging in Tonate Proper."
},
{
"author": "obsoza",
"message": "Ivor had only been to the isles once. Being of the Witherlands, his father couldn't take the oppressive heat. At this time of year though it was bearable for his father, and for Ivor it was all the same.Before they went to work in Southern Feyshore they decided to stop her for the festival. Here their skills could be of use.\n\n\nA band of Tonate Propers guardsmen accompanied the duo. While they had the expertise, the guards knew the geography. Before they delved into these foreign forests, Ivor had made sure to pick up a machete. Slashing, choping, and stabbing they went through the dense green. Ivor was in the lead while his father and the guardsmen followed. He had stripped considerably from the clothing they wore in Astoria. A grey linen shirt stuck to his abdomen from the building sweat. His pants were of the same material, and were slightly baggy for his tastes, but he made due. His father wore identically the same thing.\n\n\nComing to a clearing in the dense undergrowth, they rested. Just one more push and they'd be at the jungles heart where fauna flourished. Water poured down their gullets and reinvigorated both their sweat glands and energy. Over the sounds of exotic organisms, Ivor thought he heard a slight crash. From the stump he sat on, he turned his head and peered through the vines to see if he could find its origin. His hand rested on a dirk resting on his side-just in case."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Allaine had been hacking away, and she had a decent pile of firewood going for her. Some of her swords cut at an angle but not head on, and others appeared straighter than her father. The young blacksmith wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist and tightened her Smiths gloves on her palms, picking up her next item - a shortsword built for the more casual fighter, or perhaps simply for self-defense. She'd taken care to engrave the hilt to allow the blade to appear more noble than it truly was, although her name was known near and far for the quality of her creations. And if her name wasn't known by someone, chances were they'd heard of her father. The redhead took a deep breath and began to cut through the thick underbrush, her eyes watching the blade. When it came in contact with something, did it slice through, or did it seem to change its path? Were the cuts clean or ragged? How much resistance was she getting? \n*Thunk.* \nHer sword hit something firm, and she blinked to realize she'd swung through some softer vines and hadn't stopped her blade in time before it hit a stump someone had made a seat of. In essence, she'd appeared *Behind* Ivor. Her face was pure confusion as she looked around to make note of her surroundings. A young man on the stump in front of her, an older gentleman, and a few guards. Her face paled momentarily. Who *Were* These men? \n\"Top o' the mornin' to ya!\" Allaine's voice was bright and cheery with a hint of an awkward laugh. \"I ain't seen ya before, are ya from 'round here?\""
},
{
"author": "obsoza",
"message": "The guardsmen jumped, and Drake took hold of the hilt of his sword. Quite obviously taken off guard. Upon seeing the woman, they eased up. The predators of this jungle were usually the sneaky lot, and they were too distracted to have heard the slight chopping from in front of them. \n\n\nIvor clenched his dirk tightly and had it half out of the sheath by the time this peculiar woman appeared in front of him. His head tilted back, and surprise took hold momentarily. He sighed, slipping it back in. One of the guardsmen, who was frightened himself, hypocritically laughed at Ivor's shock. \n\n\n\"Frozen gods...\" Ivor grumbled. He stood up and looked slightly down on her. \"Well, we aren't.\" He pointed to himself and his father. \"Just here for the festival. Hunting for it.\" The first thing he noticed, besides the way she spoke, was her hair. Ivor didn't think that such a shade of red was possible.\n\n\n\"Who are you?\" Drake asked, resting on his pommel."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Allaine gave a confident grin as the guard laughed, and it gave her enough confidence to straighten out her spine, although she was still shorter than him. This was hardly a surprise, but what might have been surprising was how toned her arms appeared. With her sleeves rolled up, it was easy to tell what she lacked in height, she made up for in strength. She clapped her hands together as she brushed off any sweat or dirt, and gave a nod. \"Didn't think so,\" She acknowledged, and with a quiet huff, she yanked her blade from the stump, leaving a shallow notch in the wood. At his next words, her emerald eyes twinkled. \n\"Didja say yer huntin'? That's great!\" She held out her sword, as if she were about to give a speech, but her reason seemed to catch up with her. \"O-Oh, right. Allaine Ferris, blacksmith o' the Isles. Nice ta meetcha! Er, what can I call ya? Sir? Mister? ...Big brother?\" She asks with a grin, holding out her hand."
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "Dayveth was among the first to disembark the *Uniting Wind* As it docked in Tonate Proper. He had experience with horses and wagons, but ships were an almost fictional thing to the mage. Dayveth's first day aboard was spent at the railing being sick over the side. After consuming a small chunk of ginger he had packed, Dayveth was able to calm down and did his best to relax. However, as soon as the gangplank *Bonked* Against the docks, the Royal Physician's boots were there as well. His trunk was in his hands with his additional belongings being carried by Mara. \n\nDayveth wasn't eager to travel again, but he thought it might be an interesting experience, as well as it was his job to attend the Queen of Astoria. He hadn't gotten a chance to have a true discussion with her during their journey, though he doubted his ability to speak well with the waves fighting his stomach. \"Finally, we've reached solid ground!\" He cried towards the ship, having a quick search for Anyanka."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The voyage was one she'd made a hundred times it felt, but something tightened in her stomach with every passing hour. She had received the invitation, and Angelica confirmed on their behalf almost immediately. If she hadn't, it was likely the redheaded woman would have found an excuse to not attend. \n\nShe hadn't seen Bradai since Mikhail was raised. And she hadn't seen Mikhail since he'd left with the poppy. The idea of them both in the same place, celebrating, as they were supposed to have done last spring gave her a nervous complexion. \n\nAngelica talked her ear off the whole journey, and when theh finally arrived Dayveth practically bolted from the deck onto the docks. She gave a small laugh, and Angelica raised a brow in her direction. \n\n\"We're not going to have another situation with him, are we?\" She asked and Anya shook her head.\n\n\"Not if he's smart.\" She confirmed, and adjusted the necklace she wore before descending to the dock."
},
{
"author": "obsoza",
"message": "\"Yeah, we are hunting.\" Ivor nodded and grabbed his canteen and tied it to his belt. \"For what though, I'm not sure. We've not been here but once, and that was when I was young. I'm Ivor by the way.\"\n\n\"Drake!\" His father exclaimed from behind. An old smile on his lips. Now that they were clear of any danger, they were packing up and prepping for their final and deepest descent into the jungle. Weapons fell back into their sheaths, food wrapped up and preserved, and canteens filled up in a small nearby water basin. \n\n\"You can just call us by our names. We are just hunters. Though I wouldn't mind being treated like royalty.\" Ivor said jesting. He hoped it would ease him up. He began to pack up himself, but still paid close attention to Allaine, if only to ease his inane paranoia."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan stood by the mast of a ship headed for Tonate Proper. He felt sick to his stomach, unaccustomed to life on the seas. Off in the distance, past the seagulls and the fog, he could see a dock, from which he would traverse to the festival. He holds his bag in front of him, cautious of the crew and his fellow passengers, as they looked and smelled worse than anyone he had ever encountered in Terresol.\n\nAfter days of travel, Yohan Astorio, sailing aboard *The Myst*, had made it to The Southern Isles. It was his first trip outside of Terresol, and he missed it already. As soon as the ship had docked, he hurried off of the vessel, calling back \"Thank you! You've been very hospitable!\" And began walking to where he heard the liveliness of a festival."
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "Dayveth set his small trunk on the deck and glanced around. He even played with the idea of getting on his knees and kissing said ground, though this hardly seemed proper with Anyanka disembarking behind him. Dayveth offered his hand in aid as she exited the ship, being careful to ensure it looked as if he was only being polite. The mage had recently become nervous about others finding out about their relations, as secrets hardly ever remain secrets. \n\n\"I believe you've been here before, Your Highness?\" Dayveth asked Anyanka. He had traveled much of the continent and even a bit over seas, but the isles were foreign to him. The mage was excited to explore a new setting, though he would make damn sure to avoid any kind of boat whenever possible."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Allaine gave a wide grin. \"Allaine,\" She called to the older gentleman. She looked upon Ivor with a youthful gaze. She was young, excitable, and full of energy. Meeting a stranger in the woods who was hunting for the feast was quite the treat! At his mention of royalty, she wore a cheesy, mischievous smile. \"That's what yer into, eh?\" She said slyly, placing her hands on her hips. \"Then, yer highness, 've got a bag of weapons a bit back, do ya mind if I go grab 'em? Might be of interest to ya?\" She pointed a thumb over her shoulder to signify where the bag was and tilted her head. \"If 'm disturbin' ya, I can be on ma way. Just don't have a chance like this often.\" Her tone was innocent enough. It was honest, too, for the most part - she really did love meeting new people, but running into a couple of hunters? She had an opportunity to gain some new clientele, too!"
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Tenate Proper had been in view for some time now- a welcomed sight for sure, given the ingredients he had brought with him had no doubt been shaken on the boat. Danico always hated boats for that reason, but there's little way to get there otherwise. With face mask on and goggles sitting on his head, he steps down from the boat, lugging an awkward bag on his back- a bag for his ingredients and study items. It would be a wasted opportunity if he didn't at least find *Something* New. \n\nDanico thanks one of the shipmates helping with tying the boat down from behind his mask, making off toward the hustle and bustle set out in front of him. It was most certainly a festival, with all the people dressed up and decorations adorning most areas. Danico rarely cared for social events, people did tend to annoy him, after all, but the opportunity to find new reagents was too great an opportunity to pass up."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric had hardly been seen on the voyage to the Southern Isles, he had barely wanted to come, but with Zane gone and the rest of the people he knew going to Tonate, Eric had little choice. It was either be in a ship or be left alone with the courtiers he didn't know. He would rather go to war again than deal with some of those people, ontop of that, it gave him something to focus on other than inaccurate letters that stalked him wherever he went. \n\nFor most of the voyage, Eric was either looking at the view from the deck or was beneath deck trying to get sleep. Ships did not quite agree with him, though he fared better than Dayveth, whose sounds of being sick almost made Eric sick. So, he avoided Dayveth like the plague and essentially secluded himself, making himself only available to the queen if she had any reason to call for him. She didn't, she spent more time with the Chancellor, Angelica. That was also fine, Eric got to finish his logistics book and did a little writing of his own. A side project, while his memory was still good. \n\nHe was the last one to disembark, allowing the queen and Dayveth to leave first, Eric's belongings were all in a large bag he carried on his back, preferring to pack light. He stopped next to Dayveth and looked to the queen and back to the ship. Then at the surrounding environment, it was much warmer and wetter than Feyshore had been. He couldn't tell if he liked it or not. Eric waited quietly for the Queen to dictate which direction they would go."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "He watched as she dropped the glass and began to shout. He sprung from his seat and slammed his hands against the desk. \"Don't talk to _me_ about choices! I've chasing ghosts for monffs now! And you...\" His face soured as he raised a hand and gestured across her new form, \"Show up like what? Like a fucking assassin? Gods KNOW you would've—\" They had hardly heard each other over the other's screams, but the moment Audrey composed herself, he paused. His face was red and the hand that was still raised moved to cover it. \"Vhis is some bullshit.\" \n\nHe turned to face the window outside. The morning rain had subsided and a heavy sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the city of Tonate Proper. \"Boys?\" Both of the Poppies tightened up on their crossbows, giving the Pirate King their full attention. \"Leave tha room.\" They hesitated briefly, if only to give Audrey a look of worry, before leaving. The door was quickly shut behind them. \n\nHe sighed heavily and fell back into his seat, failing to wipe the smile off of his face. \"Your Evelyn is some fuckin' shit...\" He took the glass of gin in his hand and slammed it back, leaving only a small puddle in the bottom of the glass. \"But vhat little fuckin' fing at tha end, luff? Tha line about choice? _Vhats_ some good shit, yeah? I tried givin' it a counter, but it wasn't as strong.\" He leaned over the table and extended a hand to shake. \"Oh fuck, mate, your neck. I 'ope I didn't 'urt it too bad. It's nice to see you.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "It was impossible to not hear about the festival happening in tonate, Southern isles. It's all everyone had been speaking about when she went on with her usual business of people watching. It made her curious as she had yet to go that far south. The only issue was finding her way there and back. Luck seem to be at her side when she found a couple with a small boat and handed them coin in exchange that they got vanessa to the Isles. The furthest Vanessa had ever gone south was when she reached south Feyshore for a bounty. Not one that she needed to kill but one she had to capture. She didn't ask questions to those who paid her though she was beginning to wish she had, why would someone want her to capture a child? A question that would remain unanswered. If it had been a death bounty, Vanessa would have definitely not taken it.\n\nVanessa found that she hated travelling over water due to how sick it made her. She wasn't used to to it and it took all her self control to not throw herself onto the docks once they arrived. If she could kiss the ground, she would have. Looking towards the couple who travelled with her, she handed them more coin as a thanks for their troubles before stepping onto the wooden platform. The southern isles from what she could see, was a lot nicer than the mainland, it had a freeing feeling to it.\n\nHer eyes scanned the crowd as she continued to walk along the docks, trying to find anyone that looked remotely interesting. It wasn't until she heard two men arguing about who would win the sparring competition that her interest peaked. If she was to enter, she may have a chance to show off her skills and receive a paid job by the end. She wished she could have taken her brother with her to the Isles but it would have been difficult to do so, especially since he worked alongside with their father. Shaking the thought from her head, it was best to not distract herself with what she could have done. She needed to focus on finding a way to sign up for the sparring competition."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Dayveth offered his hand to help her down to the docks, and Angelica followed after. The blonde paused before her boots hit the wood, glancing over her shoulder to assure Eric was coming. He'd disappeared on the ship to his cabin along with Zane, and she'd assumed she'd see one of them before they docked. Seeing as that wasn't the case, she waited until she saw the tuft of brown hair, and gave a small ghost of a smile before returning her attention to Anya, who looked like she'd seen a ghost. Well, seen a ghost and was frightened by it.\n\nAnyanka nodded, \"Yes, I've been here several times.\" She told Dayveth, her eyes passing over the streets. It was flooded with people from all over, attending the mid-winter festival that only the Isles could provide any sort of warmth in. The rest of Marin was covered in snow, and Bradai and her son were enjoying the warm breeze from the waters. She'd dressed lightly, with a trail of ribbon wrapped around each forearm and tied in such a way at her wrist to hide the sigils she now bore and to make it look like an intentional fashion choice. She missed the spring, and the idea of weighting herself with a heavy coat or sleeves in the balmy isles was absurd. \n\n\"We're expected at Maith's Manor.\" She said, glancing over her shoulder to Angelica who was still watching Eric. She didn't know what that was about, but if it kept them both from moping, she wasn't going to fight it. \"I've chartered a carriage already, they're to meet us at the south end of the market. If you need to stretch your legs, now's the time.\""
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan had been in Tonate Proper for hours now, trying in vain to find a warm bed to sleep in while he was in town. Unfortunately, every inn he had entered had been completely full, with no rooms left to offer. He wandered the streets, coming to a marketplace, with dozens of shops set up from all across The Southern Isles. He smelled freshly baked goods, exotic flowers, and many more scents coming together to form a beautiful cacophony that enchanted his nostrils. Yohan grinned, having found a place where he belonged.\n\nYohan strolled through the square, dressed in a leather coat, which had been dyed pink. Strangely enough, the different colours in the marketplace actually made Yohan blend in, where normally he would be standing out amongst a sea of beige and grey. He approached a flower stand, and examined the flowers closely, before finding an exquisite white rose. He looked up at the merchant, and asked \"Excuse me, how much for this rose?\"\nThe merchant, a man with a curly, thin mustache and greasy, black hair, responded with a refined and snobbish lilt in his voice, saying \"It isn't for sale for anyone like *You*. Get rid of that ungodly scruff, and you may return. I can't be seen selling to a damned hobo.\"\n\nYohan looked at the man quizzically, before tossing the rose in his face and walking off without a word. As he turned away, his face turned red with embarrassment. That man weighed no more than a hundred pounds, and as frail as a weasel. As simple minded as Yohan's father was, he never would have allowed anyone to speak to him like that. Yohan pushed the matter aside, and did what he always did when he was worked up: he played.\nYohan pulled out his ocarina, pressed it to his lips, and began to play as he walked. A slow, wistful melody flowed from his favourite instrument, and he began slowly moving along to the rhythm, his step slowing, as he played an unnamed song that some would recognize as a composition called *Zelda's Lullaby*."
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David and Damien had made their way to the Southern Isles. \nIt had been David's idea after he had heard about everyone gathering at Tonate, so David wanted to go not just to show face but as a show of power, also David brought Damien with him, it's not often that The Horn Hills are left without a member of House Brass there over seeing things. \n\nDavid had made an exception for this occasion but this had been Damien's first time being off The Horn Hills for a very long time.\nDamien had been very nervous and not to willing to go, but David convicted him though with some light threats.\n\nAfter a they had a long travel across the Sea's on their ship , Damien and David Brass had finally arrived at Tonate, besides their own ship, there would of been ten ships from The Brass fleet that had created a circle around David and Damiens ship.\n\nThis had be a small display of power from David in his mind anyway , David chuckled as they reached the docks.\nDavid, Damien and a small group of men with the sigil of House Brass on their armour has set off to reach the festival, after they had a light walk they had reached the festival and had made there way though the entrance into the festival."
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "\"Very well, Your Highness. I assume I'll need to remain back for the majority of this trip? I'm not exactly filling a political or public role among your court,\" Dayveth explained to his liege as he released her hand. \n\nDayveth, as well educated as he was, did not excel in the field of fashion. He wore similar clothes to the ones in Astoria, though without the outer jackets and cloak. \n\nAs of the carriage ride, Dayveth was slightly disappointed. The mage was looking forward to scouring the festival's markets, thought it appeared as though he would have to wait, if he would get to at all. He suddenly realized he didn't even know if it was his place to ride in a carriage with the queen."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric looked paler than usual and was visibly relieved when he set foot on solid ground, but maintained an overall neutral expression, never really one to relax in new places. Especially with the Queen's Chancellor looking at him, he had been stared at before, he was used to the strange looks people gave him, but the way she looked at made him a little uneasy. Eric only looked back at her for a couple seconds, but it was a couple seconds too long and he averted his eyes to the docks and the people. Then his senses to the warmth again, he was already starting to sweat. \"Where do you need me for the duration of the trip, your grace?\" Eric asked, assuming he was here to fill some sort of role, or to work in some way."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka's brow raised when both Eric and Dayveth asked what their roles were to be. \"You're here as honored members of my court. You're not working, you're not expected to keep any appearance but the one you want your homes to project. If you'd like to stay with me through the festivities, I'll be happy to play as hostess, but you're allowed to do as you please in the Isles so long as you don't actively destroy our reputation.\" \n\nNot that it was hard to destroy a reputation of a whoress ruler.\n\nShe looked to Angelica, and their fingers touched for a moment before Anya looked back to the ship. Zane was most likely brooding, and she pressed her lips together. He knew he wasn't obligated to be at her side, but she expected him to do so regardless. \"Accomodations will be assigned later this evening, and so long as you all report back to me at the Maith estate before dawn I don't mind you wandering and enjoying this pseudo-summer.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"What the hell do you mean you're full? I sent my reservation a month ago!\" Kirk's inn had no vacancies, apparently giving his room away because of festival demand. \"It was a business reservation!\" \n\nThe royal antiquities dealer used his suitcase as a chair on the street outside, stewing in a sour mood over how his plans had gone awry. He didn't know where he would be sleeping that night, and it appeared that most other inns were similarly full. As he sat, a winded instrument caught his ears. He picked up his travel case and walked down the street to find where the sound was coming from. He found a man walking an playing an instrument. Based on Kirk's experience in antiques, he assumed it was an ocarina. The song was pleasant, and lifted Kirk out of his sour mood. He followed behind and when he heard a lull in the playing, he caught up and held out a few coins. \"You know, most street performers stay in one place, so people can throw money at their feet. You seem to have a different business model.\" Kirk said light-heartedly."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan looked back at the man, holding out a few coins, glimmering in the sunlight. He chuckled, pocketed his ocarina, and said \"My good sir, I have no need for anyone's coin. Your money would be far better spent on something physical from this here marketplace.\" Yohan didn't like being taken for a street performer. He saw it as just a few levels above being a beggar. \"This small demonstration of my talents is less of my job, and more of a small amount of viral marketing. I hear that there will be many a nobleman here today, and I'd like to give them a little preview of what could happen, should they hire me to play for them.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"Well then think of it as a service you provided. I've had a rather unpleasant day, and hearing your music made it a little bit better.\" Kirk continued to hold out the coins. \"Please.\""
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "\"Understood,\" Dayveth said as he turned his attention to the docks. \"I assume later you'll too busy for us lower court folk?\" Dayveth teasingly asked Anyanka before having a hushed side conversation with Mara, his head either nodding or shaking every few seconds. \n\nThe nurse's face switched from questioning, to frustrated, to annoyed, back to frustrated, exasperated, and then finally resigned. \"Very well then,\" She huffs before walking towards the markets."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan tilts his head. People often didn't persist after he told them they didn't have to give him money. However, though Yohan was fairly wealthy, a few extra coins in his pocket were welcome. He took the coins, pocketed them, and smiled. \"Well thank you, sir. My name is Yohan Astorio. May I ask yours?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka gave a bit of an eye roll to the man, and watched the conversation play out between him and his mentor before she headed off. She didn't know what it was about, and didn't care enough to question it as she turned, heading to the south end of the market to meet with their carriage. The longer they stood at the docks the more uneasy she felt. The sooner they arrived at the banquet the better. \n\n\"Doctor Coren, a word, please?\" She asked, pausing just enough to let him catch up to her as the group moved into two parties: Her and Dayveth leading and Eric and Angelica following in tow."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"Kirk Pinewood.\" He said, holding out his hand for a shake. \"Royal antiquities dealer of Ibethiel. I'm here today on business, actually. It happened to coincide with this festival. For your musician work, did you come here for the festival or are you a resident?\""
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "\"I'm a visitor in these lands. I'm actually from Terresol. This is my first journey outside of there, and I have to say, inn space must be a delicacy here, as I've found absolutely nowhere to sleep tonight!\" He laughed a bit at his own joke. \"What about you? I'm guessing by the bag that you aren't from here, so where are you from?\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric followed along dutifully, walking by Angelica's side as quiet as he usually was. He'd overestimated how warm it would be, and while he wans't dressed for winter, he wasn't quite dressed from tropic either. His preferred colors of dark greens, browns, and a tarnished gold trim also didn't help keep the heat off of him. He glanced over at Angelica, \"How long have your worked for the queen?\" Eric asked, trying to work on his small talk."
}
] | 215 | 7,093 |
180.588235 | 2018-12-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"For as long as she's held the title. We were friends in our youth, we've known each other since we were teenagers.\" Angelica answered and let her gaze wander from Anya and her newfound plaything to Eric. She gave a small smile to the man.\n\n\"I've been here since the very beginning.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"I'm from Ibethiel. I deal in antiques there for the government.\" Kirk said, repeating himself. \"I have a shop named Pineworks in the capitol. Nice view of the castle. I came here on a boat with a cabin, but believe me when I say that it would be better to sleep in the dirt than on that boat. I actually do have an idea of how to solve our problem. Now, this isn't what it sounds like, but do you know of a brothel nearby?\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "\"Oh,\" Eric said thoughtfully. He didn't realize how tightknit Anya's court was before he'd arrived. Ever since his arrival, Eric was almost intentionally different. Only speaking when it was needed, and executing every order received. \"That must a journey. Duchess to a queen, I don't really know much about where she is from myself.\" Eric commented, the only thing Eric ever knew since he first read her name was that she was going to be his queen when Randall left. Anything before that was unkown, and Eric was never candid enough to ask or show curiosity. The conversation instinctively caused him to slow his pace slightly."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan smirked. He had walked past a few brothels as he wandered through the streets, and may have taken a quick peek. \"A brothel, eh? I think I might know of one nearby, but first I'd like to know your wonderful idea.\" He tried to think of what Kirk's plan might be, though he came up with no clue."
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "\"Yes, Your Grace?\" Dayveth asked, keeping in line with his queen. Now that he was off the infernal rocking beast, the doctor was able to enjoy the atmosphere and the weather. The only dislikable things were the inescapable seagulls and inevitable smell of fish."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Must've been a journey*"
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"We will go inside and look for a girl who looks like she's having a rough night. Maybe the worst she's ever had on the job. Bruises might be a good indicator. Then I'll say 'Hey, let's go upstairs.' When we get up there, I'll ask how much for the night. She'll give me an answer. Then I'll ask how much if she doesn't have to touch us and just lets us sleep in that room for the night. Hopefully she'll be so relieved that she'll cut us a good deal. It might be a little more than an inn, but it's something. We get a place to sleep and we give some poor girl the rest of the night off. Does that sound like a good plan?\" Kirk asked."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "\"Well that's awfully benevolent of you. It sounds like a good plan to me! Come with me, I'll show you the way if I can remember it.\" He began walking through the maze of cobblestone streets, leading Kirk. The two eventually made it to an establishment called *The Honest Harlot*, and Yohan stood in front of it. \"After you.\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey stiffened as his voice escalated. She thought about all the things she could say. She could tell him that she came in disguise, because if her own face was shown around his estate it was possible that he could be under suspicion, she could've said that he was a man with more choices than she'd had during the witch hunt, and she could've said that if she dared to lay a hand on him she would have been insane. Strangely enough, however, her voice seemed strangled. It wasn't the necklace, and it wasn't the hysteria. Perhaps it was the voice of a king, a man with more power than most of the known world, was speaking at the moment. Perhaps it was that his words were nearly true and that she couldn't open her mouth to make excuses in front of him anymore. All she knew was that she was forced into a corner, and she was making the best decisions she possibly could with her known information. As the Pirate King told his men to leave, she flinched. Had he had enough of her? Was this it? He'd end her life and have it cleaned up while he ran off to attend to other business? Her nerves felt numb, and her fingers trembled slightly in her lap. She supposed it only made sense, given that she'd crossed so many lines. Sure, she'd helped Bradai, but now she was dried up and no longer had any use. She was dead for all anyone else knew, save for Mason Carbonnel and Bradai Maith and a handful of his guards. Surely this was it. \n\nAnd the guards left. \n\nAnd the Pirate King wore a friendly smile that made Audrey's stomach drop. \n\nShe blinked for a moment. He was acting as if he'd just stepped off stage of a grand production that they'd both been acting in. She stared at him blankly for a moment as he sat down heavily. His words seemed to echo, ricocheting off of the walls in her mind. What..? \n\"I... I'm sorry?\" She asked hesitantly, reaching out a hand slowly. Was it a trick? \"You... Aren't angry?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"I'm not benevolent, Yohan. I'm just good at striking a deal. I prefer more money in my pocket than spent. Good fortune to others is incidental. Actually, we could throw in you playing a song or two as payment. It could really brighten her day, but don't throw it in until I make a counter offer to her secondary. If you don't follow what I'm saying, don't worry, I can cue you in.\" Paying a few coins to a street performer may prove to be a helpful investment if he could really knock down the price his upcoming bargain with a prostitute. Whores were notoriously stubborn when it came to haggling in Kirk's experience. \"Thank you.\" He said to Yohan before entering the establishment. An older woman sat behind a clerk's desk. She looked up at them when they walked through the door.\n\n\"You want a guy?\" She asked after glancing at them for a second.\n\n\"Put the ocarina away.\" Kirk said quickly, assuming that was the reason for her question. The woman laughed.\n\n\"No, it's your pants.\" She said. Kirk looked down at his recently purchased pants and realized the man he had met at a tavern on the mainland the other night was not asking him about riding horses.\n\n\"Well, I guess I'm never wearing these again, but no. We want a girl.\" Kirk said, trying to mask his pain.\n\n\"Fine, just sign in first.\" The woman said, flipping around a ledger to the other side of the counter top. Kirk approached the book and picked up a quill. He hesitated.\n\n\"I'm here on business, and my assistant here doesn't read or write. Is it alright if I sign in on behalf of the two of us?\" Kirk turned around and winked at Yohan while giving a discreet thumbs up.\n\n\"He's going in with you?\" The woman asked, confused.\n\n\"Yes... He holds certain things for me...\" He held up his travel case and gave it a couple pats.\n\n\"Alright, I guess.\" The woman gestured toward the ledger.\n\n\"Wonderful.\" Kirk scribbled *Yohan Astorio + 1* Into the name space and flipped the ledger back around.\n\n\"Have fun...\" The woman said, pulling a string that opened a pathway through a drapery of beads in the wall.\n\n\"Neat.\" Kirk said before gesturing Yohan to follow him."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"Fuckin' 'ell, Audrey.\" The Pirate King's smile faded as he inspected her figure. He gripped the extended hand, giving it a hearty shake. His eyes glanced to the other, glistening with the gin that pooled at her feet. It looked like she'd wet herself. \"Vhey really did a fuckin' number on you, didn't vhey?\" He motioned for her to stand and come around the desk. From another drawer, opposite to the files, he produced a small wooden box. \"Pack tha pipe for us. You've got to chill tha fuck out.\" \n\n\"Ezekiel was an ass'ole. I sent 'im to you wiff tha expectation 'e'd wind up dead. You don't owe 'im jack shit.\" He removed the top of the box and removed the pipe, firestone, and small pouch of sweet smelling tar. \"You do owe me fough, make no mistake. 'e was an expensive piece uff equipment.\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "The confusion on Audrey's face was easy to read. Normally, she masked her thoughts quite well, but now it was clear she was not following the chain of events. Nontheless, she did her best to return the handshake and stood shakily, although as her feet carried her behind the desk, she felt as if everything to this point had been a terrible nightmare. She took the box, along with a deep breath, and removed the contents. It was a beautiful pipe, although she was hardly accustomed to Bradai's trade. Her mind began to think once more, as it had before, as if it were slowly repairing itself given this new sense of... Safety, perhaps. \n\"If I may pick my poison,\" She said softly, as if it were a child asking for permission, \"I would much prefer another glass of what you shared with me earlier. Alcohol and I have a much sweeter relationship.\" \nAudrey was shaken and had been beaten this time around, but in that request, she was *Almost* Like her old self."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan followed behind Kirk, but not before looking back at some of the lovely ladies. He walked with Kirk into a private room, where he said to the woman \"Okay, so here's how this is gonna work. How much for the whole night?\"\n\n\"50 gold\" She replied, getting on the bed.\n\n\"Perfect. And how much for us to not touch you at all?\"\n\n\"40 gold.\"\n\n\"Amazing.\" He lobs 20 gold at the woman, and laid down on the bed. \"You've got the other ha;f, Kirk.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King took the drawstring bag and shook it out into his palm. A smooth and tacky ball of black fell into his hand. It reflected off of the sun outside, finger prints dotting the tacky surface. He pinched the side and slowly it began to separate, like putty. He gave it few twists before it broke off, and be began to roll it into a size accommodating the bowl of the pipe. \n\n\"Its very charming vhat you ask, actually. You _may_ 'ave anuvher glass uff gin.\" He handed the pipe over to her, packing the ball of opium and placing the firestone in her other hand. \"Just run your stone across the top.\" He stood from the table, \"And while I'm off picking up tha glass you dropped, you're going to start smoking.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk stared with barely contained rage at Yohan as the musical street urchin commandeered the negotiations. If Yohan had actually been his assistant, Kirk would have fired him. Still, he wasn't. He was just the poor man Kirk had signed into the ledger in case things went south at the whorehouse. After all, you can't get the virgin to the volcano by telling her you're going to push her in. The sacrificial lamb needed special treatment.\n\nIt wasn't until Yohan laid down that Kirk found a moment to salvage the negotiation. He leaned his face closely in on the whore's. \"Hey, my assistant here is a skilled musician. If he played you a song or two, would you be willing to take off a few more coins from the total?\"\n\n\"What does he play?\" The prostitute whispered back, no stranger to quiet side deals.\n\nKirk looked from side to side for dramatic effect before uttering it aloud. \"The Ocarina.\"\n\n\"Ooh. I've always wanted to hear one of those.\" The whore said, smiling. \"I'd take off 10.\"\n\n\"Deal.\" Kirk handed the woman 10 coins, halving the remaining balance Yohan had left him with. \"Hey Yohan.\" Kirk said, raising his volume back to normal. \"This lovely girl here says that she's always wanted to hear an ocarina. I told her you're the best I've ever heard. Could you give her a song as thanks for letting us stay here tonight?\""
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "\"But of course.\" He pulled out his ocarina, and began to play the same wistful, slow melodic tune that Kirk had heard on the streets. He stood up, and began slowly dancing, moving with grace and ease around his small audience. He never denied anyone a show, no matter how awful the venue. And by god, was this a shitty venue. The floorboards creaked as he danced, the sheets looked to not have been washed since the previous festival, and Yohan almost stepped on a mouse as he played. However, he kept his composure, playing for Kirk and the whore."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey frowned at the ball of black. She knew fairly well what Bradai was talking about and what sort of business he was in, but she had no interest in partaking. She drank wine leisurely, and as a result could handle her alcohol, but she'd seen what opium did. Kenna Vaughn had been quite the scene when she'd visited Ibethiel, and she knew that Kenna had ties to Bradai as well. She hardly had any interest in losing her sense like that, let alone becoming addicted to the substance. Audrey opened her mouth to protest, although Bradai's tone was hardly something she could argue with.\n\"I can clean up my own messes,\" She said hesitantly, glancing at the pipe and firestone. \"If you're concerned for me, I'll recover with rest. This... Isn't necessary.\" \nShe hadn't outright refused his offer, but she gave an attempt at convincing him. If he wanted to spoil her, she would gladly take a glass of gin, but he seemed set on the pipe. If she could avoid it, she would."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "As Yohan played, Kirk looked at the whore's table of personal possessions, a regular habit as an antique collector. He saw a small bottle. Some hard alcohol perhaps? He opened it up, gave it a sniff, and took a swig. It tasted awful. Kirk set it back down in disgust and walked away toward a better position for the impromptu concert. When it was over, both he and the prostitute clapped. \"Good job, pal.\"\n\n\"What a lovely show.\" The woman said, starting to pack up a few things before heading out. At the door, she stopped and went back to grab the bottle Kirk had drank from. \"Almost forgot the cavity cleanser.\" She said under her breath."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan smirked, and looked over at Kirk, saying \"That's probably not something you'll want to be drinking.\" He placds his ocarina back in his bag, before falling onto the bed, exhausted. He had spent all day travelling, only to find a run down whorehouse as his only place to stay. He didn't have much time to be frustrated about his living conditions, as he fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the bed."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "With Yohan taking the bed, Kirk was left with taking the chair in the corner of the room. He sat down in it and dozed off shortly after.\n\nKirk woke with his stomach gurgling in the night, he figured it must have been the bottle that he had drank from earlier. It was a bit late for sea sickness. Kirk opened his eyes and saw a light dancing around near the foot of the bed. Kirk looked over at Yohan, who seemed to be asleep. He quietly stood up and saw the whore rifling through his travel case under candle light. With little advance thought, Kirk ran at the woman and tackled her. \"Thief!\"\n\n\"Thirty gold coins for a whole night on a festival weekend, are you insane?!\" She twisted around Kirk's grip. \"I only said yes because I knew I could get more from you later!\" Kirk was not an experienced fighter nor particularly large, and the whore was used to tangling with men in tough positions. Within seconds, she had him in a headlock.\n\n\"Yohan, I wanted one with a weak will!\" He choked out, hoping the commotion had been enough to wake him up.\n\n. . .\n\n\"Am I?!\" He asked sarcastically. Kirk stood up sick, wobbly legs as chunks of vomit slid off him. \"Madame, I am a *Royal* Antiquities dealer, and I will not be disrespected in this way.\"\n\n\"Look, I'm sorry for your trouble.\" The madame said kindly over the chaotic scene. \"We'll refund you for your time, would that make everyone happy?\"\n\n\"Me and my assistant would like to stay here the rest of the night. I'm in no condition to travel. Could we hold onto the room?\" Kirk added.\n\n\"Fine.\" The madame said, just wanting to get this over with.\n\n\"Deal.\" Kirk held out a puke doused hand to the whore called Eloise. \n\n\"For the night.\" She reluctantly handed back the money Yohan and Kirk had given her.\n\n\"Uh, I believe there is only 30 gold here. Your standard rate for a full night is 50 gold.\"\n\n\"But-\" Eloise cut herself off, not wanting to reveal that she was cutting rates to steal from customers after the sale in front of the whorehouse boss. She reached into her pockets and pulled out 20 more gold pieces before depositing them into Kirk's hand. \n\n\"Thank you.\" Kirk said with a bow. The madame forcefully led Eloise out of the room and shut the door on her way out. Kirk pocketed the coin as he walked over to the whore's closet. He pulled out a dress and started wiping off vomit with it. Then he tossed it into the muck on the floor. \"Now that...\" Kirk said without looking at Yohan. \"Is how you make a deal.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica nodded, letting her pace slow enough to be leisurely as they walked. \"It was a bit of an uphill battle.\" She confirmed, and let her gaze settle on him once more. \"I suppose it's a bit strange, to see the way we interact. And even stranger still to find yourself suddenly a part of it. It feels like you've been around for years, but it's only been what, maybe one of you _officially_ being part of the Astorian court?\" \n\n\n\nDadyveth moved to fall into step beside her, and she raised a shoulder casually. \"Nothing, Doctor. I just wanted to give them a moment to themselves.\" She told him quietly, giving her chin a small jerk towards her shoulder to indicate Angelica and Eric behind them. \"You said you've traveled, is this your first time in the Isles?\""
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "\"Oh,\" Was all Dayveth said, glancing over his shoulder towards the other pair. He turned his attention back to Anyanka as she asked her question. \n\n\"Yes, out of all the places I have been, the Isles are completely new to me.\" As they strolled through the streets of Tonate Proper, Dayveth surprised himself. He didn't think he would have such a challenge resisting the urge to reach out and take the queen's hand. She was the first woman to ever challenge Dayveth, and he loved it."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anya's lips parted in a soft 'ah', her step lingering a bit as a warm breeze greeted them from the shores. \"They're lovely. I used to consider them a second home.\" She told him. \"The Pirate King is an old friend of mine, my son is currently staying in his court, so if you stick close by you might find yourself introduced to both of them.\" She mused, though she didn't quite know how that would play out. \n\n\"You'll find the people here are a lot like those in Astoria. Shitbloods making their way through the world and generally just doing a wonderful job about it. The Pirate King has a bit of a side for dramatics, so I don't doubt the festival will have some surprise tucked away.\""
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "Dayveth nodded at her words, and remained silent for several moments, thinking. \"*So*, I am surprised to find any queen to be friends of a pirate king. It's very interesting, if not slightly worrying.\" \n\nDayveth had worries about anyone who was dubbed \"Pirate King,\" And he get that it was in good reason too. He had brushed into pirates before, on land and sea, and it was never a *Productive* Experience."
},
{
"author": "udbv_1",
"message": "Among the documents in the Queen's study, there was a reminder, a letter from her family that there was to be a festival in Tonate. \n\nHer discovering that letter was days ago, and Charity had just arrived at the capital of the Isles. She was a tad late for the festivities, but it was not yet over and that's all that really mattered. As she breathed in the air, she felt a bit nostalgic since the Isles was where she grew up."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"The moniker is more frightening than the man, in my opinion. He's not so much a pirate as he's the one who controls the waters.\" She explained, and when they arrived to the carriage, she thanked the coach who pulled the door open for her, climbing inside. \n\n\"It's actually how we came to know each other.\" She continued, moving to the furthest seat so he, Eric, and Angelica would have room to join her. \"Before Astoria, I was married to the Duke of Vincentien. They dealt pretty heavily in slave labor, and since I wasn't exactly the biggest fan-\" \n\n\"That's an understatement.\" Angelica quipped, sliding into the seat across from the Queen. \n\n\"Alright since I actively rerouted and stole shipments to Vincentien to free those on the ships and welcome them to The Underground, I landed on King Maith's radar. He invited me to the Isles, and when he realized that the increased number of slavers ships heading to Vincentien wasn't to fuel our economy, we struck up a friendship.\""
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "It was Dayveth's turn to make \"Ah,\" Shape as he climbed into the carriage after Anyanka. He sat next to her and was careful to not sit closer than what was appropriate. The doctor had figured that Angelica probably knew about the queen and the doctor, probably both because she was smart and of the queen's closest friends. Sir Stafford, however, was still in the dark about it, or at to Dayveth's beliefs. He preferred it stayed that way.\n\n\"I look forward to meeting such an interesting character,\" Dayveth replied to the queen with a pleasant smile. \"Though perhaps he should be renamed to Sea King, or Sea Lord, has a nice ring to it.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"Maybe don't suggest name changes to the Pirate King?\" She offered with a small smile, placing her hand on his knee. \"At least not unless asked. I think he's quite fond of the connotation it brings. Same thing with myself prefering 'Duchess' to 'Queen'.\" With her words, the door closed behind Eric and Angelica, and the carriage set off towards the manor."
},
{
"author": "war3house",
"message": "\"I was merely jesting, Duchess,\" Dayveth explained, taking note. \"Believe me, I plan to be on my best behavior around this Pirate King.\" He glanced out the window at the passing buildings and stalls as they rode through the market. He enjoyed the smell of the ocean, as much as he disliked being on it."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King knelt down to pick up the glass and inspected the necklace. The diamond was quite large. It almost made him miss Ibethiel. \"I'm smoking it wiff you, if vhats what you're nervous about. Just consider placating me right now as part uff your debt.\" He stuffed the thing into his coat pocket and returned behind the desk. Bradai gestured to the firestone, \"Just run it along tha top.\" He brought his thumb down his forearm as an example. \"Easy.\" \n\nHe sat back down and refilled the glass of gin. \"You'll need vhis as a chaser anyways.\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey raised an eyebrow as he pocketed her charm. She hoped he knew it was only good for looking like Evelynn, and likely only had a few days left of magic enchanted. Perhaps he just appreciated the rock itself. She didn't particularly mind, in any case. Her hand held the firestone, and she released a soft breath through her nostrils. It couldn't be helped, it seemed. \nWhile Audrey was inexperienced with such things, she followed Bradai's example and ran the firestone over the pipe as instructed. She looked at the pipe hesitantly, and then offered it to Bradai first. Not only was it a sign of respect in a way, but she was also uncertain. While she'd smoked tobacco occasionally in the past, she'd never been exposed to a drug other than alcohol. \n\"Would you mind teaching me?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King sighed, although it wasn't one of exhaustion or upset. \"A good effort.\" His appraisal was genuine, and he took the pipe from her and ran the firestone over the top, inspiring sparks to build and set the bowl to a gentle blaze. A thick haze rose from the pipe, but was briefly stopped when Bradai inhaled deeply. His throat caught towards the end of his rather long draw, but it stayed there, not inspiring it cough. As he pulled away, his eyelids fell closed. A deep exhale briefly obscured his face. The smell was thick and warm, like a blanket. \n\nHe passed the pipe over, opening his eyes just enough to get the blurry outline of his companion. \"Smoke, pass it back, and go open tha window, will you?\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey's eyes settled on the Pirate King's expression as he inhaled. Her eyes took in everything - from how he held the pipe, to how long he inhaled, to the catch in his breath, and even to his exhale. Before she knew it, he'd already finished, and passed it to her. She took it with careful hands and brought it to her lips, her irises on the embers that burned away at the end. Her lungs took a breath, released it, and then she wrapped her lips around the pipe, breathing in again. \nIt was fairly short-lived, however, when Audrey's eyes shut tightly and a cough bubbled up from her chest as she removed the pipe and passed it back. She managed to hold it for a moment before tendrils of smoke escaped from her lips in a quiet coughing fit that she stifled with her hand. When the pipe was safely in Bradai's hand, she took two staggered steps towards the window before she regained her posture and managed to unclasp the lock, opening the airway. The fresh air was welcomed into her lungs, although she didn't exactly gasp. She just... Enjoyed the fresh air. After the window was opened, she moved back towards the desk. She held back from sitting on it - a habit she'd had back in Ibethiel - and instead moved to take a seat in her original chair opposite of Bradai. \n\"Thank you for that,\" She said. While she was honestly already feeling more relaxed, even from such a slight puff, she also couldn't seem to get this smokey taste out of her mouth. She reached forward and took a gulp of the gin, before setting the glass back down. \"Your concern is appreciated.\""
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David had found himself a sit at the festival, David had surrounded himself with his guards man, David grinned as he looked around the area. David turned to his Brother Damien and said to him, David: \"You look uneasy Damien are you still not use to stone not being beneath your feet?\" \n\nDamien remained silent as he looked around the area for himself, \nDamien had been shocked by the sight of grass, after he had not seen it for a long time, Damien had almost forgotten what grass had looked like. Much more things had shocked Damien though, as he continued to look around the festival. The outfits people where wearing and the colours of the decorations would have been very different from what was at The Horn Hills.\n\nThe Festival would have been growing getting more full of different faces. Faces that David had thought to himself could be useful to The Horn Hills and House Brass. Damien turned back to face David and said, Damien: \"A show of power is one thing but, increasing that power is another\". David had slightly nodded at his Brothers point and chuckled, David then had said David: \"Your right Brother so you be the voice of our House then\", David had chuckled much louder then before, his chuckle had almost became a harsh laugh, but David had stopped himself by clearing his throat before he had continued \"Go out there and finds us someone willing to serve The King Of The Sea\".\n\nDamien had been shaken by this request, but Damien knew better then say no to David. Damien slowly nodded back to David and looked around for anyone who looked like a capable warrior to serve his house to serve the self proclaimed King Of The Sea."
}
] | 145 | 6,140 |
263.625 | 2018-12-04 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Maith Manor was exactly as she remembered it. It hadn't occurred to her how long it had been since she'd last seen it's halls until she was upon them again. Over a year had passed, and the last time she'd been in the Isles she'd been here as Duchess of Vincentien. Mikhail had been begging to see North Feyshore. Amalthea hadn't betrayed them. She'd not feared for her son's life and the lives of a whole nation who decided to put their faith in her. \n\nIt had been simpler, but she didn't think there was a way back to that life. She was escorted through the gates, and two servants took her trunk. The other's luggage was taken as well, and they were moved to be placed in their respective chambers. She'd accepted the invitation and told Maith who would be in her company, and he assured there would be adequate housing within the manor so that they wouldn't need to worry about booking a room at an inn. \n\nThe festival was going at full force outside, the rest of the city enjoying themselves while those invited to the banquet prepared for it. As she was taken to a waiting room, she passed the dining hall, and caught a glimpse of the long table that awaited the nobility that would soon occupy the room. The white and red was supposed to be festive, but it only reminded her of Mikhail. \nAnd as if thinking of the boy summoned him, she came upon the entryway to the waiting room she was being guided to, and a voice called out in delight. \n\n\"_Mama!_\"\n\nMikhail sat on the couch before the fire, dressed in a jewel tone coat of deep emerald that complimented the glinting gold of his hair. He set the book aside that he was reading _A History of Azarya_ and scrambled from the couch to the entry. \n\nAnya hardly believed the vision to be real, as the last time she saw him he'd been, well, ghastly. The paleness to his skin hadn't faded, but the rosy hue that the cold brought to his cheeks helped cover the blue beneath the skin. He moved with excitement that didn't seem to fully encompass him, but she could see the flicker of that boy in him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she dropped to her knees to be able to do the same. Her height compared to him was too great in her heels, and on her knees they were face to face. \n\n\"Mikhail, my darling, it's so wonderful to see you.\" She told him, her smile bold and bright. Up close, he looked like death.\n\n\"I didn't think you'd be attending the festival, Mother.\" Mika countered, his head tilting a bit. \"How long will you be here? How are things in Astoria and South Feyshore, did you get my letter?\"\n\n\"Don't fret over that right now, darling. How are you feeling?\" She prompted, looking over the boy. Her hands cupped his cheeks, unhappy to find they were actually quite cold, and the rosy look had just been from the fire against his skin and not any circulation of his own. The glint in his eye had also died out up close, and she couldn't help but attribute the flame to the fireplace as well.\n\n\"I'm alive, isn't 'at what matters?\" \n\nThat wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. He'd left for the isles to find happiness, not existence. \n\n\"What have Maith's physicians said about your condition?\"\n\n\"They've never seen any'fing like it.\" Mikhail answered truthfully, and Anya pressed her lips into a tight line, her hands finding his shoulders. \n\nMaybe she'd imaginined it, but his voice sounded like it had slipped into an accent not unlike Bradai's. \n\n\"I've brought a physician with me, I was hoping he'd be able to meet you.-\"\n\n\"What's the point, mother?\" Mika asked before she could finish. He realized he'd cut her off, and gave an apologetic look. \"Father is going to send me to Azarya. There's a necromancer there, he's hoping he'll know how to help.\"\n\n\"He's _what_?\"\n\n\"No one knows how to help me, maybe we need to start thinking less in terms of me being a child that suffered from a brief spout of death and more in terms of me being someone who was raised from the dead.\" The way he said it was so... Calculated. It made her blood turn cold, and the sigils on her arm deepened in color for the first time, turning the color of the freckles that dusted her and Mikhail's noses. \n\n\"When is this scheduled?\" \n\n\"From what I can tell, the festival is seconding as a send off for myself.\"\n\nAnya pressed her lips into a line once more, and her silver gaze moved to the ceiling briefly to curse the Pirate King for not informing her of the change of plans, and when she lowered her gaze back to her son she gave him a soft smile. \n\n\"I need to talk to your father, but promise me you won't leave the Isles without saying goodbye to me, yeah?\"\n\nMikhail nodded, his blonde locks catching the glint of the fire as she stood. \n\n\"Good, return to your reading, I'll see you at the banquet my love.\" Anya told him, and watched as he turned to return to his seat on the couch. \n\nThere was a small limp in his gaint, but from afar he _looked_ the same. The woman waited until he was seated once more to leave the room, resisting the urge to tear the house apart to find Maith."
},
{
"author": "babyratprincess",
"message": "Turned my son into a common bumpkin.\n\n\"I'm Mikhail and I now speak like my two front teeth were knocked out, oh also, I'm a crackhead\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Han/ Greedo of Marin"
},
{
"author": "udbv_1",
"message": "Canonically, Han abandoned his child too"
},
{
"author": "babyratprincess",
"message": "Heath didn't abandon him. He chose to be a little booger and ran away from real, fatherly love"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King was just about to force the opium on Audrey again, but was interrupted by his secretary. He was now clean shaven, save for a small nick on his chin. A piece of cloth was wrapped around his finger, and he dabbed it idly against the wound, creating a little pattern of identical bloodstains. \n\n\"Your Grace, I was informed not to interrupt bu—\" He opened the door to see his boss exhaling out the window, with Audrey Tillotson beside him. She reeked of gin. He sighed, closing the door behind him. \"Anyanka's here.\" His formal tone had faded, a small hint of annoyance in his voice. \n\n\"Ah fuck—\" The Pirate King leaned forwards in his chair, away from the window sill. He tapped out whatever remained from the pipe into his palm and moved to tossed it out the window. \"Clean vhis shit up, will y—\" He pursed his lips, looking back down at the pipe. There was a brief pause before he refilled the bowl and finished it off. Ollie offered a condemning gaze. \n\n\"Vhis is—\" Bradai coughed, a puff of smoke exiting his lungs. \"Vhis is Anyanka we're talking about. I'm going to strangle 'er if I'm sober.\" \n\nHis secretary shrugged, as if to say \"Fair\", and opened the door. \"She's in the foyer. I'll send men to bring her to your throne, your Grace. And uhm...\" He paused, slowly running a finger down his clipboard. His brow furrowed, and he flipped through multiple pages until he found the name he was looking for. \"Ms. Tillotson, is it? Carbonell? Ms. Audrey, we'll get you into something more presentable and less reeking of alcohol.\" \n\nBradai stood from his position behind the desk and made his way to the door, watching as the Poppies from before came in, cleaning everything and returning it to its original position. \n\nOllie beckoned Audrey down the right side of the hall, and The Pirate King was quickly received by his royal guard to meet the Grand Duchess in the throne room."
},
{
"author": "babyratprincess",
"message": "Prince Nickles arrived. He smiled, breathing in the salty air. It stung his lungs and he doubled over in pain. He retched and coughed up a blood clot, right in the street. \"I'm home...,\" He smiled, raising his head toward the sun, blood caking in the corners of his lips."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "She was retireved from the foyer after she'd left the parlor Mikhail occupied. At least she was glad to have seen him before Bradai, if she'd suffered through an encounter with him _not_ telling her of his plans, she'd have been livid. At least knowing beforehand gave her the opportunity to question what on earth the man was thinking sending an eleven year old ot Azarya to be poked and proded by a necromancer. \n\nHer heels clicked on the tiles as she moved through the home on her way to the throne room. It wasn't unfamiliar, and she felt the escort was a little unnecessary. But considering their friendship died when Mikhail had, she figured it was a display of power on Maith's part. He didn't trust a damn decision she made, and blamed her for everything that had happened. \n\nBut on the other side of the same coin, his guards had done nothing either. No Poppy had moved forward to intervene, Anyanka and Bradai hadn't had _time_ to make a command before it was all over. She didn't blame Maith for what happened, in truth, she'd blame herself for the rest of her days. But she wasn't self loathing enough to believe herself completely responsible for the affair, there was enough blame to go around if they were going to start assigning it. \n\nWhen she entered, she paused when indicated, and gave a deep curtsy to the man she'd ever thought she'd have to bow before again. \"Maith.\" She said finally, straightening up and shifting her weight to take a firmer stance before the Pirate King."
}
] | 51.5 | 2,109 |
256.882353 | 2018-12-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "A voyager boat gently rocked about 400 yards from the coasts of The Southern Isles; it's sails tried to prevent wind from catching and rope hung with tension into the murky deep from the side of it. Upon further inspection, one could find a form of canopy fixed to it's inners. The fabric that created this canopy was weather worn and faded, it was sufficient when protecting it's captain from the cruel sun but not as useful whenever it came to rain. \nThe sun glared dimly this day, hiding behind a few thin clouds providing a vial of protection to those below. Satine rested on her cot, head leaned back in such a way to satisfy the crook in her neck while also providing the comfort of the shade. However not all was well in her mind- permissions of the future foretold her a lore behind her eyelids. \nBuzz buzz- the sound of flies so distinctively close to your ears that your subconscious swats for you. The gentle hum of the Gods fueling the scene. There is a bright amount of light casting down from the heavens now, creating a luminous silhouette. A pile now resides at the base of Satine's horizon, swallowing up anything below it and flies cut through the sun like as if only certain parts of her eyes were taking terms blinking. Now, the buzz submits to another sound and the world turns white once more- pouring liquid takes over for a second, then clicks of glass. A low grumble echoes from the edges of consciousness, speaking some phrase in rhythmic melodies. The speak too jumbled to confidently make out the phrase.\nThe sun had pierced through its natural blind and stared the blonde in the face, her eyes opening to the sight. \"Shite...\" She grumbled, sitting up and stretching only to catch the view of the Isles in the distance. The fore-warnings had already been pushed aside in her mind, however not forgotten. Right now the only thing on her mind was getting her boat into an area where should could tie it off and explore her former homeland."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Looked over his temporary quarters in this strange new kingdom. It was nice and clean with every amenity he would need for the stay. So, with the room thoroughly inspected, he opened his trunk and went through the clothes, looking for something looser and lighter to keep the warmth off of him. He didn't have much to wear that wasn't dark green with brown, but he did have some sleeveless tops to switch into, that were, by nature, lighter than what he was currently wearing. \n\nBy the time Eric had disrobed and gotten redressed in his new attire, he was already feeling better than he had earlier. The sweat was going away, the cool interior and approaching evening helped his temperature. With that, he ventured into the Maith manor. Wandering mindfully, remembering that this wasn't Zahrada. There were places he couldn't go, and was mindful of the ways any household guard looked at him when he entered an area. Eventually he'd wandered into a foyer that was nearer to his room than he had realized."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica hadn't been escorted to her chambers yet, as she'd found herself deep in conversation with one of the stable hands who had a particularly nasty gasp across his lip. He'd earned it from a stallion that had ripped the reins from his hands, and the force of the beasts movement had left a burn across both palms and his face when the leather and metal of the reins pulled through his hands and hit his face. She normally wouldn't even have bothered to ask, but the uneasy look he gave the horses from their carriage had made her laugh, and the warm was doing considerable things for her mood. \n\nWhen she finally left him for his job, she was escorted to her chambers, and two servants carried her trunk for her. When she pushed open the door, she found the room clean and tidy; spare for the outfit Stafford had been wearing on their journey here lying neatly on the bed. Her brow furrowed, and she looked to the servants. \n\n\"Are we sure this is the correct room?\" She asked, and they gave a nod to each other. Annoyance flared in her voice as she cursed the Pirate King, and pinched the bridge of her nose before motioning to the window for them to set her trunk beneath it. She preferred to have natural light to examine her outfit for the day, as it was easier to tell of any imperfections than the light of the oil lamps. They set it down, and she waited for them to see themselves out before heading out as well, shutting the door to the chambers behind her firmly.\n\nIntent to find Anya and let her know about the mix up, she headed down the hall after the two servants. She'd only been to Maith Manor once before, and she was never left unattended. No one really was. So when they turned into a foyer, she followed, to find herself in the same room as her new roommate. \n\n\"Stafford.\" She said smoothly, hoping not to startle the man. The servants paused by the door, and asked if the pair needed anything before the banquet. \"Some wine would be lovely.\" Angelica answered, and dipped her head in thanks as the two dismissed themselves to fulfil the request."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric had been examining the foreign decor that adorned the room. This is the third place he had been outside of Taemar. The first foreign place was Ibethial, then Feyshore, now the Southern Isles. Never, in a million years, would he have thought he'd set foot in these isles let alone be in their ruler's manor as a guest. His reflection was interrupted by the sound of a door opening, and he turned with a pleasant half smile, hearing the chancellor's voice. \"Good evening, Chancellor.\" Eric said, the look a bit more genuine now that he knew who it was.\n\nHe didn't add anything to the request for the servants, he instead just stood there and watched them leave, then moved to take a seat in a single chair. \"How are you liking the change in weather?\" Eric asked, not great at small talk. He relaxed in the chair a little. He didn't know how to act around Angelica. He didn't consider her as someone who really had authority over him, nor did he consider her as someone who he held authority over. Just, equal. It was a change of pace that he wasn't used to, even now. He was used to either being subordinate or a superior."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"I love it.\" Angelica answered truthfully, lacing her fingers together before raising her arms over her head in a stretch. \"The summer months are my favorite, I love getting to lay out in the sun and feel the warmth on my skin.\" She told him, and moved to the windows of the room. The curtains were drawn already, and she ran her finger over the ledge to find the seam to push the window open. It swung outwards from the middle, and she leaned on the window sill a bit to inhale the warm breeze that came off the waters. \n\n\"I've only been to the Isles once, but I fell a little bit in love. The climate, the people, the _professionalism_.\" She glanced over her shoulder to Eric and gave him a small smile. \"For a regime run by a self proclaimed pirate his systems are erotic to say the least.\" She laughed, and moved from her place at the window to take one on the sofa."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Axari was glad to have finally made it to The Southern Isles. She had spent the past several weeks on a merchant vessel, the captain of which she had paid a hefty sum for her passage. Admittedly, Axari was quite disappointed to part ways with that gold, but here she was unlikely to be discovered as a former slave, so she was thrilled to finally be free of that horrid past once and for all. The half-Drow woman paid off her debt and walked off the merchant ship down onto the docks, all her belongings in a small pack, save for her lute, which was slung around her shoulders, and her sword, which rest on her right hip in its sheath. She breathed a deep sigh and exhaled softly. \"Time to go find a tavern...\" She murmured under her breath, and began walking down the docks, her boots thudding softly on the wooden planks. \n\nAs she was walking forward, she began feeling an odd sensation; like the backs of her eyes were trying to retreat farther into her skull, all while her ears pressurized then popped. It passed as soon as it began, but she was left with a strange sensation of unease. Like something was coming, something unnatural, and dangerous. Axari almost felt sick to her stomach, and she quickly moved over to the side of the dock, leaning up against a post. \"What the fuck was that...\" She groaned, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair. She thought about her little, premonition? If you could even call it that. Illness perhaps? A plague? Some kind of entity? Or perhaps Axari was just reading way too far into a hot flash. There was really no way of knowing. She approached a man \"Excuse me? Can you-\" And she was cut off as he said \"Piss off Drow.\" And shoved past her, checking her shoulder with his as he crossed by. \"Fucking...\" Axari muttered to herself angrily, standing on the center of the docks as she brushed herself off and looked around, trying to identify a sense of direction as to not waste time in this city."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric thought about the exact wording that Angelica had used, \"I'm more of a Spring person, myself. Furthest time from winter.\" Eric commented, watching her movements with an interest, though, he wasn't sure why he was interested. \"I've never been to the isles before, it's different, though, I'm not sure if I would define it as _erotic_, my self.\" \n\nEric's small amount of color had returned to his skin, going from the sickly pale from the voyage to the normal Taemar pale he usually was. The lack of sleeves was uncomfortable, and showed a few scars on his upper right arm, near his shoulder. He worst thing, was the lack of weapons. With the weapons confiscated at the entrance, the familiar weight was gone from his hip, it was driving him crazy."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"I saw twelve guards on my way from my room to here. _Twelve_. The security here is tight knit, The clearance it took to get into the Manor was impressive, and the fact that even now, there are two guards posted at the door to make sure _we_ of all people don't cause a fuss is incredible. Maith knows what he's doing, and I am frankly glad the Prince is back in his capable hands for the time being.\" She mused, and the door opened. \n\nThe servants had returned with the bottle of wine she'd requested, and she thanked them with a genuine smile. \"I love Anyanka, I love Astoria; but in another life, I would have loved to be an Islander. The warm climate year round, the smell of the saltwater. It's certainly a well deserved vacation.\" She poured herself a glass, and offered the bottle to Eric if he wanted any. \"Did you make plans for our time here? I'm hoping to catch the Viceroy before we leave and pick his brain.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric listened to her gush about the security of the manor, \"It's been different, being on the other end of security. I'm not used to being without a weapon, it's discomforting.\" He then quietly listened to her talk while he just observed her body language. He was getting better at it, initially he learned it when Protector of the Realm. \n\nHe gave a nod when offered the wine, watching his glass fill. \"The more I become involved in the court, the more I seem to drink.\" Eric quipped before answering the question. \"I'm not sure, it was sort of a last minute decision on my part. I heard something about a sparring competition at some point, it might do me good to fight someone who isn't an Astorian guard for once.\" He said, taking a drink from his glass."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Taireen's day was no different from any other but she couldn't help the feeling that something wasn't right. She sat in the middle of her kitchen, stirring a glass of liquid she had brewed that acted as a euphoric drug. She had a bad habit of finding ways to escape the reality of Marin and found these special herbed teas did just that. Once Taireen brought the liquid to her lips and took a sip, her ears caught onto what she thought was a bee until the sound increased. This resulted in Taireen suddenly releasing the glass and caused it to shatter as she was forced use her hands to cover her ears. Within a second, white suddenly filled her vision, she could only assume she was looking through smoke. Taireen focused more on the blurred scene until she noticed it wasn't smoke but snow. The moment it became focused, it felt like she had been hit on the chest by an invisible force, throwing her into what she assumed was another dream. This dream was harder to make out as everything was now pitch black, completely opposite to what she had seen before. Suddenly a beastly growl flooded and flashes of images rushed through her mind before she was jolted awake.\n\nBeads of sweat had formed along her forehead and neck, her breathing was almost erratic as she tried to make sense of what she had saw. Perhaps it was the 'tea' she had sipped. That thought was quick to leave her mind. This was the first time it had happened and she had been drinking this specific brew in the past four years. It was the one thing that prevented her from going insane with horrid memories. It allowed her to forget all the bad in the world as she was too high to care. Standing up, her body shook lightly. Taireen couldn't help but look at the glass remains along with the liquid she could have Ingested. The image of her own mutilated body scarred into her mind. She hated that she couldn't make another one so easily so she could forget what had just happened as it took hours to prepare. Instead, she decided that she was too sober, especially after what ever it was that just happened and grabbed her pouch of coins and started to head towards one of the local taverns."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica gave a small smile, setting the bottle down on the table between them when she'd filled his glass halfway. \"I've seen how you train, you'll do fine without that hammer at your side, Stafford.\" She paused, the rim of her glass resting against soft pink lips. \"Well, I'm not versed on the training regiments of the Southern Isles guards. You could be in for a fair fight.\" She mused, her eyes moving towards the window as a breeze made the curtains billow. It filled the room with a sweet scent from the gardens, and she shrugged a shoulder. \n\n\"But I think you'll fair well enough. If you intend to enter a competition, make sure you win. I won't have our Head Knight coming home having gotten his ass handed to him by an Islander. I'll personally kick your ass if you do.\" She teased, and nodded to his comment about drinking. \"It's the only way to handle the stressors of court life without strangling or fucking someone.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Approaching the docks of the Summer Isles was a large ship with many black sails hanging upon three mast. At that particular moment the ship was still in the process of sailing towards the docks from a pretty decent distance away, moving at an average pace of fifty five kilometers per hour. Amongst the crew a man made his way through the crowd, pacing towards the front of the ship and with one foot he stepped onto the forecastle dock just behind where an oversized, skeletal serpent's head resided. The man looked out into the distance, watching as the Jörmungandr's haul sliced cleaning through the waves. \"Captain! We approach land!\" One of Faolan's crew members called to him, and in return, he replied. \"Wonderful observation lad! I thought it was just a big rock.\" With his statement, the surrounding crew members laughed while Faolan could only manage a mere smirk. Soon enough that smirk faded as his stomach wrenched momentarily, his heart sank, if Faolan was to describe the feeling he'd probably say something along the lines of 'the sea sickness during the first two weeks on a ship hitting you all at once.' But it only got worse from there was suddenly the image of the Summer Isles flashed in his perspective, and his perspective alone. He caught a glimpse of the city on fire, a thick black cloud hung over it like a thick canopy. He could vividly see the inhabitants of the city rotting in the streets, decaying, mutilated as flies picked at their bloodied, flayed bodies. Then the image flashed again, the sky reverted back to its normal sky blue, the clouds white like thick balls of cotton.\n\nThe Summer Isles were okay... Thankfully. But what was that? He wasn't the type of guy to have a vivid imagination, in his line of work the only thing he needed an imagination for was what was the best way to kill a man and steal his loot but this was different entirely. He could smell the rotten flesh from the sea, hear the screams, this was no product of imagination, perhaps a day dream? \"Capt'n, you alright mate?\" A crew member spoke up, slapping Faolan on the back and leaning over to get a better look at his face. \"We lost ya there for a moment.\" He added, but Faolan was quick to wave him off before taking a second to rub his eyes. \"I'm fine lad, go back to work. Prepare to dock!\" Faolan called out loudly and confidently with many crew members echoing the command, yet still the Captain was put off by the strange vision albeit found it best to keep quiet about it."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Was surprised at the idea that anyone in the court actually watched Eric's early morning training. Does Angelica watch everything all the time? \"Oh, I fully intend to win, Chancellor, ah, well, as long as you don't enter. Then it's going to be a second place for me.\" Eric commented, \"I've always preferred more work to handle stressors. A little wine and a completed task works better than anything else, or, hitting something. Hitting something that hits back relieves more tension than anything for me.\" Eric took a drink, \"I see you don't have much confidence in your Head Knight, even considering that I might lose.\" He with a hint of sarcasm."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The blonde snorted, and immediately raised her hand to cover her mouth at the laugh that had escaped. \"I'm not a fighter. You won't see me entering any sparring competition for as long as we're to know each other.\" She assured him, and took another slow drink. \"I have confidence in results. This would be a good opportunity to see how you fare against others from Marin. A good way to gauge what we need to enhance in terms of _your_ skills before we set you to work training the rest of the Astorian army.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "\"Well,\" Eric started, \"I'd also say that a one-vs-one spar is not indicative one's ability on a battlefield. When I was South last winter I saw a lot of good duelists...\" Eric cutoff, his voice trailing off, blinked a few times, \"Nevermind.\" He poured a glass of wine, his eyes cast down, then to the wine glass. \"I am confident I'll do well, I don't think many swordsmen of note are present, at least to my knowledge.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "She watched him hesitate, and pour another glass. \"You also didn't have much time to look into it. For all you know, it could be the best swordsmen in Marin.\" She mused, and finished off her own glass before reaching to refill it. \"Doesn't mean you still won't fare well. This isn't a test as to whether or not you're worthy of the position. I'm just saying, a failure could benefit us as well.\" Angelica paused, and gave a small smirk. \n\n\"If you can live past me taunting you about it into oblivion.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric smiled at the notion, \"I'd say that I could just avoid you, but you seem to just be everywhere.\" He finished his second glass and refocussed on her. \"I could just runaway back to Stormalong if it gets too terrible.\" He said, \"Especially if I lose to someone older than me, like if Sir Romanov showed up.\" \n\n\"It's strange, not talking strictly about ork all of the time.\" Eric said, looking around. \"I'm used to being too absorbed by everything, too busy being paranoid about every other kingdom on our borders.\""
}
] | 210 | 4,367 |
265.363636 | 2018-12-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"I'd track you down in a heartbeat, Stafford. I know your every move.\" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and gave a soft laugh after. \"It's my job to make sure you and Harmattan aren't getting into trouble, unfortunately.\" With that, she leaned back into her seat, resting her glass upon her knee as her attention roamed over him. In the lighter close, he looked like a real knight and not some teenager playing dress up. \n\n\"You're not supposed to worry about our borders unless told to do so. You've got to worry about Stormalong, and the Knights Academy.\""
},
{
"author": "udbv_1",
"message": "~~For some strange reason Charity had an urge. Both she and Anya being at the festival, Charity tracked her down and sat on her face.~~"
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "~~Enjoyed the banquet very much.~~"
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric laughed with her, \"Watching me must be the most boring part of your job though. I could be the least interesting person in Zahrada, potentially Astoria.\" He commented, \"So you dont uave to worry about me geting into any trouble, Zane on the otherhand, you would want to put full attention on him.\"\n\nThen came the portion where someobe was tellibg him not to worry about the borders. \"I feel like i should worry about borders, and atleast keep an eye on them myself. If something happens, who will be leading the men who will be fighting on those borders? Me. Not many other people can inspire the Feyshorians like me. That is why I worry. Because the moment something happens, I am going to raise every man able to hold a spear in Feyshore to fight. So, I watch so that I'm not surprised when it is time.\" He sighed, hoping that would never happen. The prospect scared him and excited him in equal measure, he would be lying if he didn't miss being in the field."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine hummed gently to herself as she stood from her boat, casting a part of the sail outwards with her hand. Her boot now created a thud as she stepped up on the side of the ship and leaned towards the water as far as possible. This created just enough thrust from the winds coming from the sea to bring her into the docks at a gentle pace. A tactic she had learned to use when sailing slowly through dangerous waters- not that the southern isles were dangerous or anything.\nAt that moment a gust of wind carrying the stench of death had reached her nose- her mind accessing it and categorizing the scent with her premonition of flies. \"Gods, what now?\"\nOn an unrelated note, her senses had begun to raise the hair on the back of her neck. A quick turn would allow her eyes to fall upon another ship, seemingly coming into dock at a decently quick pace. In response to this she politely pulled up to the docking area and took the second peg to tie up her boat, leaving the first at the end of the dock for the black masted ship.\nUpon stepping on the dock, the female stretched before gathering a small satchel. Her eyes glancing around for excitement or a tavern to rest her weary mind."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Axari's mind had finally settled and she shivered one last time from that dreadful little sensation that had rushed through her head. She approached a dockworker, different from the last \"Where's the nearest tavern? And do they accept performers?\" The man turns and murmurs \"Head north, into town, you can't miss it\" He says, pointing toward a building in the distance. Axari nods and straightened her lute on her back. \"Thank you.\" She mutters as she begins making her way the direction he indicated.\n\nAxari finds her way easily enough, and pushes the door open to step inside. The half-Drow approaches the bartender, and begins her pitch about providing entertainment for the night. \"I play the lute, and tell stories. I'll give 5% to the tavern whatever I make for the night if you let me play. I'll make it 8% for free drinks...\" After a bit of deliberating, Axari comes to an agreement with the bartender and takes a seat, waiting for the person currently performing to wrap up his act as she sips on her ale, her fingers drumming on the table in rhythm. After downing the first drink, she sets about tuning her lute, resting the instrument on her lap and softly strumming notes for only her to hear. She glanced around a bit nervously as anxiety began taking her once more. What if that vision hadn't been a dream. No one seemed to be sick, or injured though. Everything looked fine. \"Fucking hell Ax, you're going mad.\" She mutters Under her breath as she finished up her tuning job. \"At least this bar's packed.\" She thinks to herself as she looks around the room, seeing most of the chairs filled."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "It didn't take long for Taireen to reach the tavern, having to walk by foot because she didn't own a horse. It wasn't too much of an issue, it gave her time to try and get over what she had just seen. To get some fresh air and space. Perhaps she should give up her 'special' tea, but the visions felt too real for it to be related to it. Shaking her head, Taireen brought her palm to her temple and began smacking at her temple. It was as if she was trying to hit the thoughts out of her head before she entered the tavern. \nIt was crowded, something she needed in hopes to distract her. Making her way to the bar, she placed many coins on the bar top. She could feel many eyes on her and she assumed it was her appearance. Her skin was pale and her body shook like she had a cold, something many preferred to avoid. \"The strongest you have.\" She commented to the bartender who gave her a hesitant look. \"I'm hungover. Help me get rid of it.\" It was one of Taireen's go-to lines which tended to work often. She preferred people to not assume she had some sickness or to know what she did in her own home. \nThe man gave a sigh of retreat as he poured her a drink which she took away to a table. She had to shove through multiple men who were three times her size before she found a free seat. Sitting down, she brought the bitter tasting liquid to her lips and forced it down her throat."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "The tavern nearby had provided a convenient place of refuge for the knightress, a grin marking her face at the mere thought of ale. \"If the dead could rise again, I'd assume they'd all meet at a tavern to be merry and share stories.\" She claimed to herself, allowing a thought to slip into speech. This often occurs as a habit born of being alone- however it serves her well in terms of honesty and gratitude.\nThe doors cast open at the touch of her fingertips and Satine had entered, green eyes scanning all the subjects in the room. She analyzed their faces, spotted who looked sketchy and who didn't... Perhaps she was hoping to find a god sitting amongst them. One who could explain her premonition. However this was not the case, and life is often not as sweet as one might believe.\n\"I'll take a smooth ale- one to soothe rather than aggravate. You can do that, yes?\" Her accent ran over the liquid flow of her sentences, creating a sort of flow in her tone. With her facial expressions that of mass curiousness and confidence, mixed with the bodily outlook to match, Satine's eyes had begun to jut around the room once more. She was looking for entertainment."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "The Jörmungandr began to slow as it came up on the docks. As if normal procedure, Faolan's men began to carry a wooden plank towards the edge of the ship to act as a ramp for when they docked while the anchor was released. The ship came to a sudden halt as the anchor burrowed into the sand below the ship causing the Jörmungandr to lock in place. \"Alright lads! I will return shortly after I get a bloody drink, clearly I need it.\" Faolan started as he proceeded towards the ramp. \"I want this ship cleaned by the time I get back! If that's not your job then enjoy the scenery.\" He added, making is way down the ramp and onto the docks with a thump, adjusting his belt and placing his left hand securely on the pommel of his Ulfberht sword as he began down the docks. Faolan normally had a smug smirk, he liked to greet the local sailors as if they were old friends because it was nice to see others who lived a life at sea yet still return safely back to the Isles, but this time there was no smirk, not even close. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, contemplating the horribly vivid daydream he had. Surely it was a dream, it had to be. He was intuitive but he was no psychic. Once he reached the end of the dock and started down the streets of the city he tried rolling his neck out and taking a deep breath to clear his mind.\n\n\"You're drink deprived, Fao. That's all it is, you need to get your fuckin self to the tavern and drink yerself shitface.\" He mumbled to himself albeit loud enough to where his little self coaching tactic earned him some strange glances from the locals. Finally he stopped outside the tavern and with his free right he turned the knob and pulled open the door. Ah yes, there was another thing off about him that he only just realized the second he had to open the door for himself, which he really never had to do because he typically brought a few gentlemen with him. But this time was different, this time he was completely without his crew, but it was too late to go back now. So with a deep sigh he trudged over to the bar and slid into a stool not far from where Taireen resided. \"A bottle of akvavit, not a glass, the whole fucking bottle.\" He demanded from the barkeep who likely immediately went to get him his beverage. Faolan wasn't known by everyone, but he came to the tavern enough to at least be known by the folks around here, they respected him, those who knew him anyway, and he liked that. There was nothing this man valued more than respect."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "She finished up tuning her instrument and looked up to the small stage that was stuffed in the corner of the room. Nothing glamorous but it would pay for her stay tonight at least, hopefully. Axari walked up to the stage, pulling a small stool over with her. She sat down, put her black curls up in a bun, and cleared her throat. \"I'm Axari, I'll be taking requests, I tell stories and sing songs, it's really up to you what you'd like to see. Any request will be one gold, and I accept tips. Anyway, I'll get on with it now.\" She kicks the case to her lute open and starts with a few opening strums, her orange eyes glowing softly in the dark light of the tavern, betraying her Drow nature. \n\nAxari starts singing, a jovial tune, one about a young knight who finds himself on an epic adventure. She watches over the crowd, hoping to see some kind of reaction, gauge something to figure out what the crowd would like to hear. As she crosses the crowd she makes eye contact with a blonde, Viking looking woman. Axari smiles and throws her a wink before continuing her sweeping gaze around the room. As this song comes to a close, a coin is tossed into her lute case and she flashes a friendly smile to the charitable soul who tossed it. \n\nShe started on the song he requested, glancing up as a man walked through the door and straight to the bar, a real sailor looking man, now toting a bottle of liquor. Axari was coming to the close of this song and as she hit the last notes she called out. \"Come on, any requests ladies and gents? I'm sure someone's got something they want to hear?\" She flashes a smirk and looks around the room. Axari has been doing this a while, and knew the best way to get a good bit of gold is to get the audience involved, get them wanting something. She reached down and sipped on her ale which she brought on stage with her. \"First request is free, whoever shouts something out gets it.\" She says with a chuckle."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "The blonde was rewarded with a fine mug of ale, golden in color with a beautiful white glacier at the top. With delighted pleasure she took up the mug by fitting her hand between the handle and the glass. Just so she could hold it with one hand just as effectively as two. With this new-found enjoyment, and music beginning in the background, Satine once again peered out at the crowd and begun picking out people who seemed interesting to her. \n'This bartender can fix my ale any day, this is delightful.' She thought as her eyes peered around the counter and at the displayed booze. 'People, Satine. Talk to people, don't just stare at them you fucking fool.\" Hastily her eyes had landed on the drow woman on stage, whom the music was coming from. However, simultaneously an animalistic instinct in her told her to lick the foam at the top of her ale... Just to see how it tasted. This action, paired with unbelievable fate of looking at the drow and licking the foam had earned her a wink. Her eyes now widening as she stared down at the puff of foam which was now missing from her drink. \"Ahem, play something that won't put me to sleep. I fear that today dreams walk around in the daytime... Please, put them to rest.\" She commented, now glancing around her surroundings again. \nHer eyes now caught a male who had just arrived and ordered a whole bottle to himself. She figured if she played her cards right she could earn herself a free drink or two out of that."
}
] | 259 | 2,919 |
220.848485 | 2018-12-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Upon receiving his drink Faolan tilted his head back and guzzled down a few large gulps before lowering the bottle to the countertop and pursing his lips. It seemed that he was trying so desperately to get himself a buzz that he temporarily forgot how strong the liquor was. That is when he felt a pair of eyes on him, the eyes of a woman, blonde and viking-looking, kind of like himself minus the blonde bit. His gaze briefly fixed on hers as he swallowed the last gulp which he held in his mouth to keep from overdoing himself on the first swigs, he then casually looked over his shoulder towards the other young lady who she seemed to be conversing with before he was noticed. 'Bloody hell I could use a lay.' He thought to himself as he finally took into account all the young women who occupied the tavern today, he wouldn't mind finding other ways to get his mind off of whatever that horror inducing vision he had seen was. He'd probably end up getting laid then wake up to find all his pocket change had been stolen, maybe even his pants as well because gods know that's happened before. The guards had some questions for him that day that's for damn sure. With another sigh he turned back around towards the bar and rested his head in his hand while his other hand tilted the top of the akvavit bottle towards his mouth, allowing him to take a few more agonizing sips. Finally he was starting to feel something, wonderful, if he kept this up he'd be drunk enough to forget the hallucination or whatever it was in no time. Maybe even drunk enough to temporarily forget where he was if he was lucky."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Grins to the Viking woman and lets out a little chuckle \"Will do, darlin' here's something a bit more exciting.\" Axari finished off her ale and strums a few rapid chords, before beginning an excited melody. She stands up as she sings this one, her feet doing a little dance as she strums away on her lute. About halfway through her hair comes undone, falling in loose curls around foxlike facial features. \n\nAxari finished up her song and a coin was tossed into her case. \"Thank you, thank you.\" She glanced down into her case and saw she was beginning to make quite fair amount tonight, thank the gods. Then something clicked with her, what the Viking woman had said. Something about waking dreams. She paused a moment and looked her over once more, her faintly glowing eyes narrowing in a curious gaze before the half-Drow cleared her throat and went back to her normal, rather excited stage presence. \" Now, how about a tale? You lot ever hear about Vexali of Equadia? I find it unlikely you would, all the way out in the isles.\" She pulls her seat forward and sat back down, reaching up to brush her hair aside. She glanced again to the Viking woman and caught herself staring. 'What in the hell could she mean by waking dreams? Did that happen to everyone? Or just me?' She found herself thinking before once again trying to clear her mind with a small shake of her head and the tight closing of her eyes.\n\n\"This story begins, on a lavish plantation in Equadia. With a young elvish slave, Vexali... She was born, her mother a slave and her father the plantation master. All was fine for her for years, she worked, and life went on, unassuming, uneventful. This of course, didn't last, otherwise I wouldn't be here today recounting her legend to you.\" Axari looked around, eyebrows raised slightly. She had most of the room watching at this point. Perfect. \"Vexali was caught stealing books, and as such she was disciplined and her resolve steeled. She wanted out of that life, a life of bondage and obligation. Personal freedom became her obsession...\" Her story continues, and by the end of it she had a few people who were clearly hanging on every word. \"...And as she drove her blade into her father's chest, she felt a strange sensation. An unknown one. Freedom. A wave of relief washed over her as the blood ran down her arms, and just as quickly as the feeling came, it left, along with her final breath as a guard delivered a final blow against the rebel slave, unaware of her surroundings in her final moments of eager anticipation.\"\n\nAxari finished her story, leaving a moment for it to sink in before she stood. \"And with that, I'll be taking a small respite darlings. I'll be here performing come nightfall tomorrow. Have a wonderful evening ladies and gentlemen.\" Axari stepped down off the stage and crossed over to the bar, counting out 8% and sliding it across the counter to the barkeep, and receiving two fresh cups of ale. She turned and walked over to the Viking woman \"Mind if I sit? You've got me intrigued, darling. Name's Axari by the way, tell your friends.\" She smirks and sits herself down, sliding one cup over to Satine. \"So. What's this you're saying about waking dreams?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"Observing the man who would become Head Knight of Astoria and Lord of Stormalong isn't a boring task. Someone had to make sure you were ready for the job.\" She gave a small smile, and licked her lips to ride them of the wine that lingered before she took another long sip from her goblet. She was about to insist that he not worry, that it wasn't the Head Knights job to worry, it was Anya's Commander's job to worry. But her lips parted and no words fell out, remembering the fate of the Commander. \n\n\"Perhaps, it's fine for you to worry, for the time being. But as soon as we find a new commander, you won't have to worry about that anymore. Your position as Head Knight keeps you _in_ Astoria and Stormalong. You're the protection of the homeland. You're not the one who moves armies from home out on conquests or missions. It's why you weren't called to Wingsway this summer.\" Angelica reminded him, and shifted to lean more heavily against the arm of the chair she occupied."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric forgot the whole direction of the conversation, tilted his head at Angelica and had look of surprise, no, fucking bewilderment. As if she said something that had confounded him and madde him rethink his entire life. He openned his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find the words. A mixture of stress, happiness, surprise, and dread molded together in his stomach, finally, he found his words:\n\n\"What do you mean, _Lord of Stormalong_?\" He said, his voice a little low from surprise, Angelica could pretty easily tell, Eric had no clue he was going to be made Lord of Stormalong. \n\nHe drained his third glass of wine and went for a fourth. His bright green eyes about popped out of his head at the thought of being the Lord of the capital of old Feyshore, what was once the most impenetrable cities in Marin."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica's arm that rested on the couch lifted, a fist forming that she rested her temple against as she watched him flicker through reactions to find an appropriate one. \"The paperwork is still being sorted. Funds are being moved and allocated for some restoration projects to make the place livable before it's offered to you. But who else would we trust with a stronghold in South Feyshore?\" The blonde woman gave a small smile, and she raised her glass a bit, dipping it towards him before bringing it back to her lips. \n\n\"We told you that you'd be rewarded for the work you put into Astoria and South Feyshore. That doesn't stop with an appointment of knighthood. You'll retain it, of course, but you'll find an additional title or two to be added to your name before this time next year, if my plans go accordingly.\" She gave a small hint of a laugh, and her brow raised a bit.\n\n\"Why, do you not like the sound of _'Lord Eric Staffard of Stormalong, Head Knight of Astoria_'?\"\n\n~~Eric Stafford came immediately and had to leave to change~~"
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric was at a loss for words, he looked down for a moment, not sure what to say or how to say it. His jaw shifted a little, and he let out a laugh at the idea. The idea of being a Lord, it was overwhelming. \"I suppose...\" Eric started, blinking, \"I could get used to it. I'd need to hear it a little bit more, those Storm Men-At-Arms will be incredibly excited to hear that. I'm still a little shocked, excuse me.\" He said, taking a moment to pour another glass of wine. Number four, he's drinking a lot on accident. He was collecting his thoughts still. \"That... That lordship would be all I would ever need, you, or her grace, wouldn't have to give me any other titles. I would never expect anything more than this...\" He was having trouble expressing his gratitude exactly."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Technically, that was actually glass five for him, and she'd never even seen him finish three before. She set her own glass down on the table between them and shook her head, tossing her blonde locks in the process. \"Don't let your excitement overwhelm you. Like I said, there are still papers to be signed, you have time.\" She reminded him. \n\n\"You also don't need to say anything to me on the matter, I'm informing you of the high probability of it as a friend. We are, after all, equals at the end of the day. Anya is the one with the final say in it all, and I probably wouldn't mention I told you, just in case something happens and plans fall through. I don't want her biting my head off over it.\" She mused, and looked to the now empty bottle. She stood, moving to the doorway and cracking it lightly. The two guards outside the door turned immediately, and Angelica offered a polite smile before requesting another bottle of wine to be brought up."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric drank his glass, completely having lost count in what he was drinking or how much, he hadn't stood up for awhile and didn't really feel it yet. He did when he went to stand up, and he lowered himself back down as soon as the room lurched forward. \"We finished the bottle already?\" He said, surprised. \n\n\"Have you already set your room up and had your things moved?\" Eric asked, trying to move the conversation off work stuff and politics, with how he was feeling, it likely wasn't the best time to discuss that stuff for now."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "A moment passed before there was another knock, and Angelica opened the door to find the same servant as before with a fresh bottle. She thanked the woman, and then closed the door once more to return to Eric and her seat. He finished his glass, and out of habit she topped it off before pouring what would be her third. \n\n\"Actually, there seems to have been a mistake in regards to that.\" She told him, recorking the bottle before setting it down and lifting her own glass. \"The room I was assigned appears to be the same one you were. When I went to drop of my things, yours were already in there. The outfit you arrived in was on the bed. I asked about the mistake, and was told there were no other rooms available considering the guest list, and that it must have been a switch up somewhere.\" She shrugged a shoulder, taking a sip. \n\n\"So we'll be sharing for the duration of the festival unless I convince Anya to let me stay with her.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric wasn't sure how to respond, he'd never shared a room with a woman other than his mother when he was young, this was an entirely different scenario. \"I see, we'll have to ask for extra bedding then,\" Eric started, \"I'll lay out something on the floor for me to sleep in. You can have the bed.\" He said with a smile, being as chivalrous as he could be.Though, really, he liked comfortable beds and had been looking forward to sleeping in the warmer conditions on a comfortable bed.\n\n\"My only condition is that you make your bed afterward, unmade beds bother me.\" He said, half a joke, mostly true."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica rolled her eyes. \"Stafford, you sleeping on the floor isn't how you planned to spend your time here. I'm not letting you do that. We can share a bed, you're not going to hurt my reputation by doing so.\" She told him, and took another drag from her goblet before continuing. \n\n\"Also if you're genuinely looking to participate in that sparring competition, I won't have you sleeping on the floor, waking up stiff, and embarrassing Astoria in the process. You'll look like an old fool if you throw out your back in a sparring competition, and I'm _not_ going to be the one to nurse you back to health.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "\"To be fair,\" Eric began his retort, \"That _is_ what we have Dayveth for, isn't it?\" Eric added, then paused, \"I suppose it's a large bed...\" Eric was obviously not entirely comfortable with the idea, but he didn't know what to do in this situation. Generally, you don't turn down attractive women when they ask to share a bed with you. But also, she's a co-worker, and the right-hand-woman to the queen. It'd just be strange, even if nothing happened, which nothing will happen, he needed to remind himself. They were just making the best of an awkward situation.\n\nNow he was nervous, not about the awkwardness of being in the same bed as Angelica. But about whether he might have a dream again, he didn't know what he did in his sleep when he had the memories come back to him, he didn't want her to know or suspect something might be wrong with him."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"Dayveth is too busy making eyes at the Queen to be useful right now.\" She murmured, and finished her glass, sinking back into the cushions and crossing her free arm over her torso as she slumped into the couch. \"I swear that woman can seduce a plant with a gaze.\" She added, and turned her attention to the window she'd opened. The warm breeze was dying down as the day progressed into evening. Even still, it wasn't cold like home, but there was the underlying promise of some cooler weather in the night. \n\n\"We'll be fine. I promise not to take up too much of your space and I don't snore, so you're in for a rather peaceful night... If you make it to bed.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric, even with too much to drink, knew not to touch anything about Anya's private life, it made him uncomfortable. He stared down at the mostly full wine glass longingly, debating on continuing or not. \"Hah... IF make it to bed.\" He repeated, quietly, \"I may need help getting back, to be hoest. I don't normally drink past three. His face was flushed, his Taemar accent was slipping out a bit, and words were becoming harder to figure out and formulate. The wine was catching up to him."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Bradai Maith made his way through the halls, actively speaking to a few of his advisors. One of them had a box of jewelry, and was slipping rings onto an outstretched hand. Today was a festival, and he wasn't about to go out in front of the Clans without recognizing the 14 sham marriages he was in. They weighed down his hands, but he would've been lying if he said he didn't like the way they felt. Two around the three fingers in the middle, one around the bottom of the pinky, all simple golden bands. They made writing difficult, but considering he only ever wore them during political events, they never really got in the way.\n\nThere was no fanfare when he entered the room. It had existed when he first came to the Isles and the moment the drums or trumpet would sound, everyone took a knee. Now? They didn't get that privilege. People _planned_ for his arrival, waited on baited breath from him. The harsh whispers stopped the moment he stepped through the doorframe and the sound of everyone falling to their knees filled the room. \n\n\"Stand please.\" An idle hand waved upwards as he settled into the Throne of Skulls. Four mee men came forwards and placed a desk before the Pirate King. Behind him there was a new spot that was created in the back of the throne, a spot hollowed out for a new skull. \n\n\"Grand Duchess?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica gave a small laugh at how the wine hit his voice. It made him softer, and it was nice to see that of a man who she'd only really seen be rigid towards her. He'd always made it a point to be professional, and it was unusual but soothing to see him with his guard down for a moment. \n\n\"Lucky for you there's someone to help put you to bed, so you might as well finish off your glass before we retire.\" She urged, setting her own down. \"And if you really feel like you can't that's fine. Though I don't imagine you'd embarrass yourself even drunk.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When both of the women spoke up, Taireen forced most of her drink down in one swig. Something about them was familiar to her but she didn't understand why, she barely left her house and most times she spent alone. Standing up, she made her way over to the bar once again. Her strides were shaken, the images of her death never left her head. The main thing that put her off was where her body was placed. She obviously wasn't in the Isles because she had been laying down in snow. But she wasn't alone. She could only assume it was in north of Marin, the one place she now planned on avoiding. \n\nOnce the woman reached the bar, Taireen only needed to send the man a certain look before he rushed to make her drink. Upon receiving it, Taireen handed him a handful of silver pieces in exchange. \"Just keep it coming.\" She replied before taking another swig, loving the burning sensation on the back of her throat. Drinking was never as good as one of her teas though. Slamming the glass down onto the bar, the thin frail woman used the back of her hand to wipe her lips. She could feel the alcohol starting to take affect, assuming it was because she had yet to eat anything. She was very forgetful on that part. At least on the positive side, it would be a very quick path to drunkenness and possible alcohol poisoning. \"Better than the fucking hallucinations.\" She muttered to herself in annoyance and desperation."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka raised a brow slightly at the title, and let her tongue slip over her painted lips. \"Pardon the correction, but I believe the accurate title since the return of South Feyshore into my hands is 'Queen'.\" She said, and gave a small smile. Personally, she hated the title Queen, it reminded her of women attached to a King, and that it was a placeholder and not an actual position of power for most women. But considering it was true, and put herself on par with the man in terms of titles, she'd use it for the time being. \n\n\"Thank you, as always, for your invitation to the Isles. I saw Mikhail not too long before I came to see you, I'm pleased to see he's doing well.\" She spoke with a firmness in her voice she wouldn't normally use. But the throne room wasn't empty, and she knew her normal casual demeanor would probably be frowned upon. It wasn't as if she was allowed to speak to him as a friend anymore anyway, he wouldn't take to that from what she could tell. He looked like he might hate her, and she had a feeling this would sour quickly."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King kept a stern expression for as long as the Grand Duchess spoke, but let out a soft chuckle the moment she was finished. \"Relax. I've 'ad people trying to win my favor all day wiff stern and flowery language. You're safe, 'ere Anya.\" He paused, \"Even if you are a _Queen_ now.\" He rapped his fingers against the table, all fourteen of his rings tapping against the surface. \"I'm pleased to see vhat _you're_ doing well. And yeah, I 'oped you would see Mikhail. We 'ad 'im so close to tha front for a reason.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The 'relax' had been unexpected, but the redhead immediately softened, her stance easing a bit and her shoulders slipping as she gave him a soft smile. \"I missed him. He hugged me and for a moment the world stopped spinning again.\" She admitted, and glanced around the throne room briefly. \"I didn't expect to make our conversation a public affair, is there a reason we're not having this conversation in private?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "He gestured vaguely with his hand, as if searching for an answer that wasn't terribly verbose. \"I've got to see people all day. Diplomatic meetings coming frough, vheres an entire damn line be'ind you. But, I do 'ave a request uff you. It's nature is...\" He sighed, running a finger over his pursed lips, \"It's one a _friend_ would ask.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"You're free to ask, Bradai.\" She told him with a nod, and then continued. As she spoke, the pads of her fingers ran up the length of her left arm, trailing idly over the raised skin of the sigils she bore. \"Does it involve Mikhail?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"Yeah, it does.\" He let a long pause hang between them. \"It's kind uff a large favor. But I feel like I at least owe you some time wiff your boy, seeing 'as 'ow 'e left. And uh...\" He cleared this throat. To say that this was awkward for him was a understatement. \"From talking to 'im, I fink 'e was just flustered wiff you and your new job. Some time apart was good for tha boff uff you, I fink. But you do know 'e's going to Azarya.\" He sighed deeply. \"I don't feel comfortable sending 'im wiff someone 'oo won't write back as quickly as you do. And, you know, boff uff you deserve time togevher before 'e's gone.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The woman's brow knitted together a bit, and she took a step forward, finding herself only a foot away from the desk that sat before him. It was comforting, somewhat, to know that Mikhail leaving had been less about herself as a parent and more about her new titles and responsibilities. She'd tried to avoid work as much as she could in the time he was home, but Astoria was only just then getting on it's feet, and with South Feyshore falling into her hands at the same time, and the threats from Vivayn, she _had_ to focus on the bigger picture. \"I don't particularly like the idea of sending him to Azarya at all. He's a child, after all and I don't necessarily believe the best thing for him is shipping him off somewhere he has never even seen before with anyone he doesn't know.\" She paused, realizing she was voicing opinions on a discussion they didn't have time to have right now. \n\n\"What's the favor, Bradai?\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Having been nearby, Faolan absentmindedly noticed the other woman at the bar, in the process of gulping down the remaining third of his bottle and placing it down on the bartop when he suddenly caught the last words the girl near by spoke, faintly, but he still knew what he heard. His gaze shifted towards the woman with gray eyes as he pushed the bottle away from himself so the barkeep could take it when he was ready. He wasn't quite drunk yet, but he was most certainly buzzed, akvavit can do that to a man, even a veteran drunkard such as Faolan. Casually the Captain scooted his stool a bit further in Taireen's direction, leaning in and whispering... Because at the moment that seemed like a good idea, it was safe to say his sense of judgement wasn't all there.\n\n\"Psst. Lass.\" Faolan started, attempting to get Taireen's attention. Assuming he likely did so, unless she was deaf, he simply continued to speak. \"What kind of er... Hallucinations... Are we talkin 'bout here? Like what did ya see?\" Okay, maybe he was a bit more drunk than he expected. As soon as he began to talk he found himself slurring and pausing at random times like some idiot, but considering his rather average hygiene and his well kempt hair and physique she could likely tell he was most certainly not some blubbering idiot. Hopefully. Faolan, finding that the world around him seemed to tilt in the direction he leaned, quickly pressed his hand to the bartop to keep himself from falling as he leaned in to whisper."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "He paused, \"I want you to take 'im vhere, frough Taemar. As long as you want. I want to give you boff tha opportunity to be muvher and son. I want 'im to 'ave you in 'is life, and wiff boff uff you moving frough tha countryside, it'll take weeks. Stop in villages, get to know each uvher again. I know you've got a lot going on back 'ome, and I wish vhere was somefing I could do about vhat but...\" He bit his bottom lip, \"Our boy needs 'elp. I've been wiff 'im. 'e's in pain, 'e's told me as much. Vhere are people vhere vhat can 'elp 'im. You know vhat as well as I.\" \n\n\"Fings will slow down in tha winter. I will send you reinforcements for Eric, to quell anyfing vhat 'appens in your Kingdom. Your Council, I assume, can rule in your stead? I—\" He looked up from the surface of his desk and gave her a soft smile, \"Please?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "It wasn't anything she was expecting him to ask. She'd been expecting him to ask for Angelica to go with him, Eric or Zane or someone else from her council. But _herself_ to go on an extended mission away from Astoria and South Feyshore for who knows how long? She wanted to believe it was a genuine request. That Bradai really did just have the best intentions in mind for Mikhail. The woman closed her eyes, inhaling for a long moment before holding the breath in her chest. Technically, she'd be away, and Maith would put a presence in Astoria and South Feyshore. That wasn't something she was really comfortable with, but she _did_ trust her staff to manage on her behalf. They had when she was in Wingsway, they could do so again with the proper notice. \n\nAnd, if things really came to it, she could call upon Charity, ask her to keep an eye on the situation if she'd be willing. \"I'll talk to Mikhail and see what he thinks about it. He ran away from Astoria in the middle of the night to be in your home, Maith. He may be my son by blood, but he's yours by choice. If he wants me to accompany him I will, but if he doesn't, I'll find someone I trust to go with him.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When she heard the voice of the man who was clearly speaking to her, Taireen couldn't help but take another swig, they didn't say alcohol was a form of liquid courage for no reason. Turning to the man, she placed her glass on the bar top and observed him. He was intoxicated to say the least, she knew this by the way he held himself up and the slurs in his speech. The state she wanted herself to be in. She had to think for a minute about what he said, she hadn't properly listened to him as she had been too distracted by her own thoughts. That's when it hit her. Hallucinations. A lump formed in her throat as she pushed back the tears, fearing her impending death. \n\n\"Death.\" Was all she could answer before turning back to find a new drink in front of her. Thank god. It was gone within the second before turning to once again face the man beside her. Normally she would have kept this to herself, but she assumed it wouldn't harm to tell someone who was drunk about her misfortune. \"I didn't get a clear image of what it was about. All I could sense out of it was snow, a cave, hundreds of bodies that had either been mutilated or had fallen to a plague. I can't remember what the last thing was though.\" She finished as she downed her drink, finishing it. Now, she could finally feel the alcohol taking a strong affect on her like it had hit her all at once. \"How's that's for a fucking dream or whatever the fuck it was.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "He nodded, a smile coming across his face. \"Great.\" He looked relieved. \"Vhats just... Vhats just absolutely great. And tha boy knows vhat 'e shouldn't be going alone. Trust me, if I 'ad tha opportunity to spend vhis time wiff my daugher I would... Well, I would be _fankful_, is all.\" He ran his hands down the front of his jacket and composed himself. \"I appreciate it. You know, you've got a lot uff good people in Astoria. When I see your Duchy, I see potential. Vheres a lot uff work to be done in Souff Feyshore, but if anyone can do it, it's vhem. Mostly Shitbloods too.\" He nodded his head in respect, \"Many fanks, _Queen_ Durkhan.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "At that moment his suspicions had only been confirmed by the woman's answer. Death, a plague, mutilated bodies, all things he had seen. But why? What did this mean? Faolan was by no means a religious man, this kind of shit NEVER happened to him, but this was all kinds of weird and unexplainable. There was only one thing it could be, a warning from a powerful being, or he was developing psychic powers which he doubted. Mind you, he was still pretty drunk. \"Bloody hell man, I was hoping you would say you saw a ghost or a demon dog or, hell, a fucking unicorn for fuck sake, anything but that.\" He spoke, reaching forward and casually grabbing her bottle, putting it to his lips to find she had finished it. He then held the opening up to his eye and sighed. \"Quite the drinker aren't ya lass?\" Faolan asked, placing the bottle back down. \"Guess ya oughta be after what we've seen, I had the same hallucination, or shall we call it a premonition, on my way 'ere.\" \n\nFaolan then leaned back in his stool only to find it didn't have a back, he nearly fell out of his stool but quickly caught himself, not quite *That* Drunk, not yet anyway. \"If it is a premonition I wouldn't mind finding out... So I can wait the shit out on my ship of course. Ya see lass, I don't, as the youngsters say, 'fuck with that shit'.\" He added, making air quotes with his fingers as he spoke the 'phrase' the youngsters supposedly say. Not that he would even know."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk Pinewood awoke the next morning and left a note for the still sleeping Yohan before sneaking out of the brothel.\n\n*Dear Yohan,\n\nSorry for the vomit everywhere. The prostitute came back in the night. We had a disagreement. I handled it. \n\nGoodbye.\n\n-Dirk Shinewald*\n\nKirk didn't want his real name associated with what had transpired and hoped Yohan would take this as his true name. Then again, he wasn't sure if the man could read. Yohan was a street performer, after all."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "As he spoke, she couldn't help but be amused despite the visions that had burned into her mind. Damn did she wish he was right, she would rather deal with a ghost than having to see her own death. \"Drinking is the best I can do for now.\" She commented, her speech starting to slur but not as bad as this man. She didn't blame him for wanting to know when this 'plague' was to start, his plan was smart and she almost begged to join him out in the sea. What stopped her was her intense sea sickness she always managed to catch, the nausea was something she just couldn't handle. Her fingers drummed against the wooden surface, a habit she formed when she was nervous or distressed. If he had seen the same thing she had seen, then perhaps he had seen her dead body too. Something she doubted, otherwise he would have acted in a different manner towards her. \n\n\"And I plan on remaining drunk enough to forget my own name until..\" She brought her glass in front of her face, almost like she was admiring it. \"Death do we part.\" Taireen couldn't help but chuckle at her own joke, though it had been a humourless one. Placing the glass back on the table, the ghostly looking woman let out a defeated sigh and held out her hand. \"I'm Taireen by the way.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "It was safe to say the man didn't recognize her in the slightest, surely there would be signs that he did. Instead the man just seemed out of it, likely from the booze, his arms placed sloppily on the bartop, his back hunched over a bit. Then she told her little joke, evoking the slightest smirk to his lips as he shifted his gaze back towards the woman once again. \"Y'know, that would've been funny as fuck if it wasn't a possibility, as morbid as that sounds.\" The captain started, turning his torso a bit to face her better yet still keeping most of his weight on the bartop. \n\n\"As fer my name... Faolan. Me mates call me Fao but I'll let ya decide that bit.\" Faolan offered her yet another smirk before looking towards the barkeep and lazily gesturing towards his empty akvavit bottle. Of course, the barkeep simply nodded in response, taking the bottle and moving to get him another one, while he did that he looked back towards the woman to gage her expression. \"I'd ask if I could buy ya a drink but... Chances are with how drunk I plan to get some woman is gonna end up taking my money anyway. Kinda need what I have.\""
}
] | 207 | 7,288 |
272.545455 | 2018-12-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "No shit. She thought when he commented about her joke. She tend to make a habit out of shitty situations like the one she was currently in. Though she wasn't lying about remaining drunk from this moment until her demise. \"Well since I'm not a mate of yours, I'll stick to Faolan. And I think we can both agree that money is the least of our problems.\" It was not only true, but she also had her own coin to take care of herself. \n\nAn idea occurred in her head as she turned to face Faolan with a smirk forming in her lips. \"How about I make you a better offer. Why don't we both drink until that man..\" She pointed towards one of the foulest looking older males in the tavern before continuing. \"Looks hot enough to turn you into his lover.\" After that, she raised her drink to her lips and gave him a wink. The alcohol really was starting to affect her. \"Drink up.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan turned about to look towards the foul older man she had pointed towards, his visage contorting into a look of mild disgust before looking back to Taireen. \"I didn't think such a level of intoxication was possible, but I guess ya never know until ya find out.\" The barkeep then returned with the Captain's second bottle which he gladly took into his hand and raised it to his lips to take a few gulps. He then lowered it down until it rested upon the bar top once again, his lips pursing. \"Bloody foul but the buzz is nice I'll admit.\" Faolan spoke, sounding increasingly more intoxicated with each passing gulp of the highly concentrated alcoholic beverage, his silver eyes gazing at the liquid through the bottle as his mind wandered momentarily. \"It could just be a coincidence we both had similar dreams, right? Or hallucinations whatever the fuck ya want to call it. I mean... I'm pretty sure I've heard of people having similar dreams before so it's not like it's unheard of.\" The captain babbled on in between gulps of akvavit."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk Pinewood awoke the next morning and left a note for the still sleeping Yohan before sneaking out of the brothel.\n\n*Dear Yohan,\n\nSorry for the vomit everywhere. The prostitute came back in the night. We had a disagreement. I handled it. \n\nGoodbye.\n\n-Dirk Shinewald*\n\nKirk didn't want his real name associated with what had transpired and hoped Yohan would take this as his true name. Then again, he wasn't sure if the man could read. Yohan was a street performer, after all.\n\n. . .\n\nKirk strolled down the streets of the festival looking for the house of a client. The royal antiquities dealer was in the Isles on business, and he didn't want to be distracted despite what last night may have implied. The owner of a substantial estate had died, and said owner had a substantial artifact collection. Kirk had been hired by the son and heir to sort through what was there and buy anything valuable. He eventually found the right house number and went to knock on the door. There was no answer, but he heard a grinding noise coming from the rear garden. He walked around the side of the house to investigate. There, he saw a bonfire and things that weren't logs being thrown into it by a group of hired workers. \"Hey, what are you doing?\" Kirk asked.\n\n\"Just dumping out some old junk.\" One worker said as he dumped some small wooden sculptures onto the blaze.\n\n\"Stop it!\" Kirk yelled as he ran over. \"I'm supposed to be sorting through this stuff.\"\n\n\"What's going on out here?\" A portly man about Kirk's age stepped out of the house's back door. His belly moved back and forth sticking out under his shirt as he lumbered over, holding a snake around his neck.\n\n\"Hello, you must be Ludd Waller.\" Kirk asserted, making a confident guess. \"I received a letter about going through your father's artifact collection.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah.\" Ludd nodded. \"I remember that now. I got tired of waiting, so I just started throwing shit out.\"\n\n\"You do realize I live on the mainland in a landlocked nation, right? Not only did it take some time for the letter to reach me, I also had to plan this trip on short notice and travel here during a harvest festival. It was going to take longer than a week.\" Kirk explained, agitated.\n\n\"Oh well.\" Ludd said, shrugging. \"I needed to clear out everything from the snake room.\"\n\n\"Are you saying you turned you father's world-renowned private gallery into a... *Snake room*?\" Kirk asked, extremely tense.\n\n\"Yeah, it's way cooler now. I had some trees installed to make the room more natural. I also had some dirt sprinkled in. Way softer than that marble flooring was.\" Ludd was satisfied with his sense of interior design. Kirk was horrified. The snake started to move down Ludd's body, which prompted him to sling it back over his shoulder. \"Whoa there, Heath. Ha ha. I named him Heath, you know the first knight in Feyshore that ran away?\"\n\n\"Yes, the irony isn't lost on me, but Mr. Waller, is there anything that you still have?\" Kirk asked desperately.\n\n\"I don't think so.\" Ludd responded, stroking the snake.\n\n\"What about the shifter skull collection?\" Kirk specified.\n\n\"We thought those were just regular skulls at first. Then Sental cut his hand on one and died.\" The workers placed their hands over their hearts. \"That loss really shook us up. I thought I wouldn't be able to finish dinner that night, but I managed.\" Ludd said solemnly. \"And yes, we burned them.\" He perked up. \"Did you want to see the snake room?\"\n\n\"**No, I don't want to see your bloody snake room!**\" Kirk exploded at Ludd.\n\n\"Hey boss, I found some dusty old longbow in a corner.\" A worker exited the house holding it. \"Want me to throw it in.\"\n\n\"Give me that!\" Kirk ran at the unsuspecting worker and jerked it out of his hands. \"I'm not leaving this godsforsaken place empty handed...\" He grumbled to himself as he walked toward the front yard.\n\n\"Hey, where do you think you're going with that?\" Ludd yelled behind him.\n\n\"What?\" Kirk turned back around.\n\n\"Did you think that bow was free?\" Ludd asked.\n\n\"You were going to burn it.\" Kirk said.\n\n\"Not if you want it.\" Ludd retorted.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Kirk asked.\n\n\"I mean I'll sell it to you.\" Ludd said, a grin spreading across his face. \"For the right price of course.\"\n\n\"You're kidding.\" Kirk said in disbelief.\n\n\"I'm not. And I don't think you want to be branded in the Isles as a thief.\" Ludd threatened.\n\n\"How much, then?\" Kirk fished out his coin pouch.\n\n\"One hundred in gold.\" Ludd held out his hand.\n\n\"You're insane!\" Kirk yelled.\n\n\"No, I'm not! That's just a myth about syphilis.\" Ludd shrieked defensively, forcing Kirk to shake his head at the can of worms he had just opened.\n\n\"You know, I could easily just go down to the market and buy a bow there and say it was historical.\" Kirk made a last-ditch effort to bring down the price.\n\n\"But will you, Mr. Pinewood?\"\n\n. . .\n\nKirk later sat down in a Tonate tavern to mull over his life choices as he stared at the longbow that he had placed on the chair across from him, his coin pouch significantly lighter."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric took a breathe, maybe it was the wine, but he was suddenly starting to get weary. His eyes were feeling a little heavy and the room felt like it was moving subtly around him. Every motion was felt heavy and awkward. The glas was empty after a couple more swallows, and he stood up from his chair; steadying himself with the arm of the chair letting out a laugh as the room lurched and spun around him. \n\n\"I had a little too much.\" Eric said, feeling the effects hit him suddenly. \"I may need help back.\" He said, letting go of his chair and standing unsteadily on his own."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica chuckled, and moved to stand with him. He lurched, and she moved to support him, letting him lean against her. \n\n\"Noted. Stop you at glass number three next time.\" She told him playfully, and hooked her arm around his waist. Their room wasn't far, and the guards outside the door followed them back to it. She thanked them for opening the door and helping her get Eric inside before she set him on the edge of the bed. Moving to clean his clothes from earlier off it, she pressed her fingers into his shoulder. \n\n\"Lay down, Stafford. Sleep it off.\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Soft steps walked down the hall, the light thumping of heels against solid wood echoing through the otherwise empty halls. Audrey Tillotson walked with an air of confidence, purpose, and... Intoxication. She was hardly over her limit, but she'd had a few glasses with the Shitblood King, and afterwards Ollie had brought her a bottle of wine as a welcome. She'd had a few glasses then, too, and now her cheeks were perpetually red with the rushing of blood caused by the liquor. Otherwise, it would be hard to tell of her condition, especially given that she didn't sway nor slur her words. The only hints would be the glazed over look in her eye or perhaps her reddish complexion, but even those were hardly something anyone would take a second look at. She wore a green dress that went to her knees made of a thick material that hugged her hips and swayed as she walked, threatening to give a glimpse of her thighs if she added much more movement to her step. The front had buttons on either side of her abdomen, along her rib cages, that seemed to keep the ensemble in place. The high neckline also hid her scar on her neck.\n\nShe'd been on her way to the library for a couple reasons. She wanted to learn more about Bradai and his rise to fame, more about her own family, and more about the Southern Isles. She knew little about what Bradai's intentions were, and so she could only hope to learn as much as she could in her current circumstances. The contents of the library were likely extensive, but as to how much they held about what she was looking for, Audrey wasn't sure. Perhaps the alcohol had clouded her logical senses just a tad. \nHer fiery hair had been bouncing lightly against her covered shoulders with each step, although it suddenly stills as her feet come to a halt upon seeing a woman step out of a room. She had yet to meet this woman in particular, but she did have enough to conclude three things: \nIf this woman was in Bradai Maith's castle, she was likely important.\nShe struck an alarming resemblance to a woman Ollie had briefly mentioned to her and told her to play nicely with. \nShe was quite the pretty face. \nWithout hardly missing a beat, Audrey's face lit up. What good timing. \n\"I was unaware that they kept the beautiful flowers *Inside* The estate,\" She said with a purr. \"Is there anything I can help you with?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica had gotten Eric settled, but she wasn't interested in going to bed yet. She headed out back into the hall, and was immediately greeted by a woman she had _thought_ for a brief moment was Anyanka. She blinked, and the misinterpretation faded. Angelica gave a small, polite smile.\n\n\"I wouldn't consider myself among the foliage, but no, I was just headed back to the parlor to finish a bottle of wine before bed. Is there anything _I_ can help _you_ with?\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey tilted her head quizzically as Angelica remarked about her plant-based compliment. After a moment, a laugh bubbles quietly in her chest, and then it dribbles out of her lips, echoing musically throughout the hall. What an interesting woman - or perhaps she was just literal. Either way, Audrey was intrigued. \n\"A bottle of wine? I could hardly allow a lovely person such as you to drink alone. Would you mind a bit of company?\" The witch's words were soft and friendly, although there was, indeed, a flirtatious tint to her words. Audrey always had a flirtatious vibe in her conversations, but it was a little more noticeable today. \"It's not every day I run into someone with the same tastes as myself.\"\nHer hands moved to cross over her abdomen as she awaited an answer, her emerald irises trained on the woman before her. They were softer than usual, however, and appeared to be only interested in the conversation a drinking companion could offer."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Truthfully, she would have preferred the company of a friend to a stranger, but she nodded. \"I don't intend to be up much longer, but sure.\" She closed the door behind her carefully, giving Eric the privacy of the room to himself as she started back down the hall. \n\"So, does my company have a name?\" The blonde asked, clasping her hands behind her back as they walked."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey's entire being seemed to give a hum of happiness as Angelica seemed to agree. Her legs seemed to follow after the woman with hardly any effort, and her hands folding together in front of her waist as she walked. At the girl's request for a name, Audrey gives a soft smile. \"Rose,\" She said. The word left her lips easily, as if she'd used it all her life. It was her middle name, but it would have to do. She couldn't run around proclaiming herself as *Audrey Tillotson*, a woman who'd died at the hands of the Ibethian throne. \"Rose Carbonnel. And does *My* Company have a name?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "They arrived back at the parlor she and Eric had been drinking in and the guards once more took their place outside the door. \"Angelica Doherty of Astoria.\" She answered, and as they entered the room, she moved to take the seat that had previously been Eric's. Dropping down into it, she crossed one leg over her other knee and tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair."
}
] | 143 | 2,998 |
211.457143 | 2018-12-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "It is safe to say, under whatever the circumstances may lie, that the four at the bar were placed there by fate. \nSatine was intrigued that the Drow woman from the stage had pursued her after her performance, moreover caught off guard than anything. However, this level of curiosity mixed with the smooth ale and opened the blonde's mouth in such babbling ways that she was not used to. They talked of the dreams for a short while... That was until Satine had went off on a tangent and ended up talking about her new-found love for a mix of goat's cheese and fine wines. Even furthermore, this tangent had led to another, and another, and to the buying of a bottle of wine regardless of the cost nor the content of her wallet.\nNow, she had found herself awakening from a cat nap on the bar. Her feet numb from hanging on the barstool below, and her shoulders tight from attempting to provide pillow with her arms. She didn't move much, but after turning her head to the right her eyes fell upon the two strangers next to her. \"Mind me, do you have the time?\" She inquired while slowly beginning to sit up, her eyes now darting to make sure her bottle was still intact. \"Also... I couldn't help but hear you vaguely in my sleep. I believe I am having the same daydreams as well.\" Another sentence left her lips shortly before her face had scrunched and she had begun to stretch out her arms by reaching high into the air."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "A grin seemed to have found a way onto her face and she couldn't seem to wipe it off. It had gotten to the point where her cheeks began to ache. The alcohol was having a nice affect on her body to say the least as it made the situation less shittier than it truely was. \"I do hope so to be honest. I prefer to die from alcohol poisoning, that death just looked..\" She suddenly felt her stomach begin to turn so Taireen grabbed the bottle from his hand, not bothering to ask if she could. Bringing it to her lips, she took many gulps in hopes to make the feeling go away. Once she was done, she handed his bottle back and almost jumped when she heard a female's voice pipe up from beside her. She hadn't even noticed she had been there, though Taireen shouldn't have been surprised considering the amount of alcohol she had ingested. \n\nAll Hope diminished when the stranger mentioned she had been having the same dream. Twice was a coincidence but three people? \"Please tell me you're just fucking with us.\" She almost begged, her emotions heightened significantly due to her intoxication. \"Otherwise I think all three of us need to clear this place of all the booze they have.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "The Pirate didn't even bother to rebel, letting Taireen take the bottle from him with ease. Only when she was finished did he make an attempt to take the bottle back. That is when he heard the other woman speak up, the woman who had been eyeing her earlier just admitted to having the same dream. There was no way in hell this was possible, right? He was making a lighthearted joke when he was talking about a warning, the kind of shit he did when he was drunk and not caring but to take into actual consideration that this place could be in danger of a plague outbreak of ungodly nature made his heart sink. \n\n\"There's no way... How? How is that even possible?\" Faolan spoke up before raising the bottle to his lips, goes to show that even at the most stressful times in a serious conversation he will still go out of his way to drink. After setting the bottle down, he continued. \"I mean hell, I was only kidding earlier when I said it was a premonition but... You lot know anywhere we can find out if this really is a warning? I'd hate to find out after the plague arrives if it does arrive.\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "The alchemist's journey was long and arduous, especially given extra weight he was carrying over the usual carriage- he drew a custom designed carriage behind his two horses, a carriage designed to fit at least four people, with fine materials lining the interior. One might assume that this would be for the duchess and Mikhail, given that she would assumedly be travelling with him, but no, this was for Danico's comfort. If he was going to have to travel for months, he would at least do it comfortably. Although this carriage was a lot nicer than his usual one, it was also a lot bigger and heavier. \n\nFinally, after some weeks, he arrived at his destination- the castle home to the Grand Duchess Anyanka Durkhan and her son- and the subject of his visit- Mikhail, who had some sort of issue worth his time. Who knows, he might actually find it interesting, but the real reason he was here wasn't for the subject, though he had certainly prepared for that with book and alchemist quill ready. Rather, he was almost solely here for the reward. The promise of a Giant Bruvanian Spider to keep was far too tempting, after all. Any alchemist worth his salt would do well to own such a rare creature.\n\nThe guards approached his horse drawn carriage as they arrive, the driver- no more than a simple stable boy being paid for his time- pulls the reigns to a stop allowing the alchemist to step out of the well decorated cabin. Pushing the goggles from his eyes to his head after placing a book back in his satchel, the alchemist waits for the guard reach him. \n\n\"Danico Felrantrez the alchemist, summoned by her Grand Duchess.\" He introduces himself with a bow as he talks from behind his mask, lenris and fepil scented smoke rises from the vents."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey followed Angelica's lead and took the seat as indicated. She couldn't help but notice that the seat had a lingering warmth to it - perhaps she'd had previous company. \"What a decorated name,\" Audrey replied. Her legs mimicked Angelica's pose, her right crossing over her left as she leaned in slightly to the conversation. \"I'm afraid I don't exactly have a title, other than my surname.\" She released a soft sigh before her eyes settled on her companion's. \"Are you enjoying the Isles? If my memory serves me right, Astoria has a more moderate climate, does it not?\" \nAudrey's tone was entirely conversational. She'd been out of the loop for some time, and so hearing about a newer region would help her in the future, she was certain. And even if this did not prove to be the case, she was sure that getting to know Angelica would prove to be interesting if not useful."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The blonde gave a small laugh. \"Hardly as decorated as it could be, but we've all got room to grow.\" She mused, and when asked if she was enjoying the Isles she nodded. \"I am, and it does.\" As she spoke, she leaned forward. The staff had switched out the used glasses for new ones in the short time it took for her to escort Eric to bed, so she plucked a new one from the tray and poured a glass for herself and Rose. \n\n\"Astoria gets a pretty chilly winter, and I've just about had my fill of the snow this season. I've always been a fan of warmer climates, so the moment the invitation was extended to the Isles I took it. How about yourself?\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey nodded along in both agreement and fascination. Perhaps she was just happy to be sitting and talking to someone without worry that a trigger would be pulled against her. Bradai had given her opium to calm herself, but the memory was still firmly planted in her skull, and she was sure it would never leave. Astoria had a chilly winter? She'd vaguely heard of Astoria, but perhaps it was relatively new. If there was a chilly winter, it was likely part of the mainland. Perhaps somewhere near Ibethiel. \n\"I agree that snow is fine in small doses, but it can definitely drown you of your spirit,\" She chuckled softly. Her hand gently took her glass, and she gave a nod of thanks. \"I've been in and out of the Isles, you see. I was in Araedia for some time, I've been in Terresol...,\" She waved a hand to dismiss the topic, or to signal that she'd been in different areas that need not be listed. \"The Isles are perhaps still my favorite. The sun and sea are refreshing as always.\" Audrey paused to sip her drink, the sweet and familiar sting of wine traveling down her throat. \"As you're staying here, I assume you're a guest of Bradai Maith?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica's brow rose ever so slightly at mention of Araedia. Anyanka had procured a name from their prisoner, and she'd asked everyone _but_ herself if she knew the name. Of course she knew the name, and Anya should have as well, thought she probably didn't realize she did. When she'd found out from Harmattan that Anya had gone so far as to ask Maith and Vivayn for information on the woman before her Chancellor- well, she wasn't happy with the woman. \n\n\"I am, thought I think through association more than anything.\" She said smoothly. Angelica had favored Maith's opinions on nearly every crossroad the Astorian's had faced. He was calm, collected, and knew how to get the most out of a situation without running solely on emotions. She loved Anyanka, but she was a woman fueled by heart over head most of the time. Maith was the opposite, and she appreciated the head on the man's shoulders. \"And by the same logic you're here as a guest of Maith's as well? What's the relation, if I may ask?\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey listened carefully to Angelica's words, though she hardly noticed the raising of her brow. Of course this girl was a guest of Bradai's, especially if she was staying in his estate and drinking wine. She mentioned by association, and Audrey could only imagine that Angelica was the \"Plus one\" Of a leader, perhaps. She might have been an advisor or a diplomat of some kind, or perhaps just a dear friend. Ollie had mentioned something about her earlier, but the woman was having a difficult time remembering it at the moment. \nAt the question of her own relation, Audrey's eyes wandered to the doorway as she took another sip of her drink. \"I... Suppose you could say that,\" She said quietly. \"Bradai and I are...\" Audrey paused. She hadn't exactly thought what they *Were*. He was someone she ran to when she was hunted down, and she was someone he relied on at times for information and eliminations both. Were they business partners? Allies? Was she a toy of his? \"I'd like to say that we are friends, but I'm not sure if he sees it that way,\" She said with a light frown, clearly thinking deeply about the topic. \"We may be something like acquaintances or business partners in a sense. I've never given it much thought,\" She said with a light laugh. \"May I ask what your association is? A friend of his is a friend of mine, of course.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "That made sense. She wouldn't consider herself a friend of the man's either, though she wished to become one. Rose spoke, mulling over her answer and giving Angelica time to drink from her own glass. Balancing it on her knee, she pushed a hand through her pale blonde locks. The servants had also closed the window she'd opened, and she contemplated getting up and opening it, though she didn't really want to move again just yet. It made one seem antsy to not be able to sit still. \n\n\"Queen Anyanka Durkhan of Astoria and South Feyshore. I'm the Chancellor for Astoria, and a longtime friend of the woman's.\""
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "Audrey had been mid-sip with her drink, and as the sentence dropped, her eyes moved over to Angelica. She didn't choke, but it was clear that Audrey wasn't expecting such a connection. The liquid moved down her throat once more, and the glass away from her lips as she smiled. \"I hardly expected that. I've yet to meet the Queen of Astoria, though it would be nice to make her acquaintance someday. Though, I'm sure everyone dreams of meeting royalty.\" Audrey's wrist moved loosely, swirling the red liquid around her glass absently. \nShe didn't exactly plan to have met the Chancellor of Astoria, but she supposed this was *Better* Than what she'd anticipated. Either way, she was enjoying the conversation - status or otherwise. Conversely, Angelica seemed to have not recognized Audrey's own surname. Perhaps she had yet to make the connection. This played in Audrey's favor, she guessed. \"How are things there, now? I heard about the uproar that occurred with the takeover. I assume that everything's going well? It's been a while since I've heard anything, though. I suppose you could say I've been out of touch with current events.\""
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "The ends of her lips turned into curl, as she had found their similar ways in response. It was as if she had flicked a switch and they had both drank heavily at the same time. This amused her.\nAfter she had observed a pause in drinking, and she had finished stretching, Satine had decided to speak up again. \"The both of you seem to fear death as if you can prevent it, what makes a bottle change fate? Hmm?\" She now settled her elbows onto the bar top and her eyes roamed the room for a moment. \"The Drow had pursed me as well with questions of dreams, perhaps she is another.\"\nAt this moment she looked at each of them, examining their intoxicated faces.\n\"I believe this may be a work of the gods, perhaps the sly one playing a game. Yet, I do know a man we could go- to to have our questions delivered to them. There is the possibility of an answer, but not guaranteed.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "\"Change fate?\" She asked, amused by what she had said. \"Prevent it? That's not the reason I'm drinking. I'm drinking so I don't have to be sober when I deal with this bullshit.\" She brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed them in a circular motion as if to calm a headache that was beginning to form thanks to this conversation. When the woman mentioned another, Taireen wanted to immediately storm out of the tavern but her body felt like it had been filled with lead. She couldn't move. \n\"And who exactly is this man? Do you really think it's the 'gods'\" She asked with an ambivalent tone in her voice. Taireen was an nihilist to say the least, her intoxication brought the worst of it out in her."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine nodded in response to the female who had spoken up, accepting her counterargument on drinking. \"I see.\" Her lips pursed for a second as she had awaited Taireen's next response.\nThe man she was speaking of was a Pagen seer that resided in a cottage near somewhere between north and south Feyshore. She had visited only once, to speak to him about leaving Feyshore for quite some time. It was he who had told her a greater interest would lie within traveling among the seas. \nFor Satine, this prophecy was true. Therefore, she saw no reason why they should not stop to see him. \"He is a religious man under my gods.\" She stated before popping the cork to her wine. \"It may not make sense to you, and your gods. But yet, I believe mine lead people in directions for a reason. And this direction may lead to either death or great bounty.\" A meek smile marked the end of her sentence, her bottle ready to touch her lips."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan let out a soft chuckle as he held his bottle in his hand, letting it hover not far from his face as his gaze locked on the ever so wise Knightress. \"I don't fear for my life, love, I fear for my crew, my home. Nothing else.\" The pirate captain explained.\n\nBut as the woman mentioned a man they could see in regards to their predicament, he wasn't quite against the idea. Surely he wasn't a religious man but after the countless things he has seen throughout his life Faolan had learned to keep an open mind. He guzzled the rest of his drink before setting it down and moving to stand from his stool. \"What're we waitin for then. Let's go get some answers yeah? Assuming this guy actually can help. Only one way to find out I suppose.\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Axari had been making her way around the tavern a bit after talking to Satine. She had spent all her coin getting to the Southern Isles, and had developed methods for replenishing her coin purse rather quickly. After a short period of traveling around, she had lifted the coin purse off of an exceptionally drunk human man. She smirked to herself and tucked the purse into her backpack as she returned to the bar to find Satine talking to a pirate looking fellow, and a woman who seemed... Frail. Those Axari wasn't one to talk in that regard, anyway, she was certainly nimble but didn't exactly seem tough. Regardless, Axari approaches the bar to hear the small group talking about some kind of priest or clergyman who could help them identify whatever this hallucination had been. \n\n\"So what's this priest supposed to know that we don't?\" She asks, a brow arching slightly as she speaks. She orders another drink and continues talking \"Because should I be truthful, I've never had much luck speaking to priests. Granted a lot of religions and 'important' people out there think a half Drow is a fucking abomination.\" Her drink comes, a shot of whiskey. Axari downs it and clears her throat as she feels the burning coating her insides. \"But fuck it it's as good a place to start as any.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica gave another laugh and nodded. \"Nearly everyone wants to meet Queen Durkhan from what I've heard.\" She mused and finished her glass. The warmth of it settled in her belly as her eyes roamed over the woman. Something about her was oddly familiar, and the name was hitting something in her mind that she couldn't quite comprehend while she was drinking. \"If it's possible, I'll arrange a meeting for you. But as for now, I think I should retire.\" She mused, and rose from her seat. She finished her glass, and wished the woman goodnight before heading back to the room."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "The past hour, or three, Eric was having trouble telling time at this point, was spent restlessly tossing and turning in his side of the bed. The room was spinning and sleep just wasn't coming for him like it normally did. He climbed out of the bed and stumbled out toward a chair next to a window, collapsing into it and looking down on a portion of the Maith estate, still finding it strange that Astoria and Feyshore was covered in snow still. This place was pretty, but, he already missed home. He missed having something to focus, then Angelica popped in his mind seemingly out of no where. He missed Angelica? She just left. He supposed she was the first person he was even slightly candid with since joining Anya's court. \n\nIt was probably the alcohol, this was the most he's drank ever, in his entire life."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Her walk back to the quarters she was assigned wasn't long, and she hesitated before opening the door. The woman crouched, slipping out of her shoes so the sound of them on the floor wouldn't wake what she expected to be a very passed out Eric. With her fingers hooked in the heels of her shoes, she pushed open the door gently, glancing to the bed to find it\n\nEmpty?\n\nShe straightened, and stepped into the room. \"Eric?\" She questioned, her voice a little concerned that he'd woken up and drunkenly stumbled off the balcony or something. She turned to look to the window, and found him in a chair there. Her hand found her breast, and she let out a breath. \"You frightened me.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "He'd truenned when the door had openned, and didn't really say anything until he realized he'd frightened her and instantly felt a little bad about it. \"Oh, I'm sorry.\" He said, \"Couldn't really sleep, decided to uh... Taken in the view, I guess.\" He said, his throat was going a bit dry. The room was dark, and all he could really see was her silhouette in the dark room. He knew it was Angelica, obviously. Her voice and silhouette made his heart pick up only a little, but it felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.\n\n\"You can sit, if you want... Or well, I guess you can sleep too if you're tired I'm generally pretty quiet.\" He rambled a little, with a few slurs on the harder words and that Taemar accent slipping out more than it normally did. He'd lost it mostly in Feyshore, but it slipped when he was angry or drinking."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The blonde once more found herself hesitating, but she turned to close the door behind her. When she did, she only left the light from the window he sat before as anything to illuminate the room. Crouching once more, she placed her shoes beside the door, and moved barefoot over the rug towards the window. Her fingers curled in the skirt of her dress, and she pulled it up enough to give her room to pull her knee up and take a seat on the window sill. One foot dangled, just barely grazing the cold stone floor, and the other found itself on his thigh for support as she looked out the window, curious as to what view could have been enticing enough to keep the man awake. \n\n\"The Isles are lovely, aren't they?\" She mused, and pulled her gaze from the window to him, her blue eyes roaming over the way the moonlight caught his features. \"But on nights when I can't sleep I miss the rains in Astoria. It's not something you realize until you're away from it.\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric's gaze never looked to the window, prefering to look at her. \"Yeah, it is lovely.\" He said quietly, then, as her look shifted toward him, he made a pretty poor effort to pretend he was just looking out the window. \"I miss Stormalong, if I'm being honest.\" He said quietly. \"If it wasn't a ruin, it'd be perfect. I'd do most anything to see it like it was.\" He sighed, \"But the countryside is amazing.\" He looked down, it all hit him a little. It had been months sicne he last seen a lot of the Storm Captains he'd left in charge, many of which were hisonly close friends. \n\n\"Astoria reminds me a lot of it sometimes. As much as I like having work to do in Zahrada, as much as I appreciate being a part of the court, I look forward to returnning and fixing Stormalong. If... If I become lord... I guess.\" He looked at her and took a breathe, \"Wow... I'm sorry, I don't normally... Ah, talk... Openly.\" He laughed off his own ramblings, and dropped his eyes down, then back to her. Looking away was hard. \"I'm rambling.\" He said, as if it was some revelation."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When another female joined their little group, Taireen was greatly confused as to who she was. She hadn't noticed the drow as she performed, having been too intoxicated and traumatised to focus on the many around her. Suddenly, her intoxicated brain decided that it wanted to function and reminded her that Satine had spoken of the Drow earlier. \nTurning to Satine, she held onto the bar top so she wouldn't fall onto her face due to her current state and furrowed her brows in confusion. \"Wait a bounty?\" She asked with a tone of fear in her voice. \"You plan on going after whatever it was in that vision? I'm fine about going to get answers but that's it.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The woman gave him a genuine smile, and her hand reached out towards him, awaiting him to take the offering. \"Don't apologize for talking freely. You're a grown man, with thoughts and opinions valuable to us, we want to hear your thoughts on things.\" She spoke of the court, but herself as well. He was so rigid and stoic most of the time. Hard working and determined, and while she loved those qualities in a man, she was interested to see the thoughts behind them. \n\n\"Also, don't take shame in looking my way. I don't mind your gaze, Eric Stafford. You know you already have mine.\" She reminded him."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "She stood and stretched before shoving the cork back into her bottle as best as she could. First, she looked at the Drow, who had questioned her on the priest. Then, at the pirate and his quick willingness to go on this adventure. \"Well, the idea is that if this dream was sent from the Gods; he will be able to deliver our questions to them. And if they speak back and allow him to tell us... He will.\" \nWith that, she nodded before lying her eyes on the frail woman- taking in her counter argument. \"If that is what you wish, so be it. However, I prefer challenges as they build my character.\"\nHer back straightened before she had pushed her hands into her hair, brushing through her long locks with her fingers. \"On another note... My name is Satine. It is nice to meet you all.\" Her right hand extended as her left had continued combing; open for anyone to shake."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "\"Hah...\" He said, not sure how to respond. He supposed he would figure what to say after taking her hand, so he did. Her hand was softer than his, and smaller. His stomach sunk and he cleared his throat. \"I... Thank you. It's been different since I came to Zahrada, I wish we'd talked sooner, Angelica.\" He gave a half smile, trying to mostly comfort himself but he felt like he was going numb. His hand was clammy, he was nervous. He's led men into combat, why was he nervous around a pretty woman? Maybe it was because she was a pretty woman. \n\nHe gave her hand a slight squeeze as an idea slipped into his mind, which was half working at this point anyway. But the being drunk, the openness and all of this was just too much. She was close, and either he'd take a shot or she'd kick him out. He'd just blame it on the alcohol, and Eric leaned toward Angelica without warning, tilted his head to the side to kiss her."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Sometimes, she forgot his youth. He was a man to her, but he was inexperienced in a lot of things. He said he didn't drink this much ever, which made her think the very idea of him being black out drunk even once had never crossed his mind. She'd spent nights in the Underground drinking and dancing and numbing the outside world anyway she could. He'd been recruited so young, he never got to enjoy the world in the same way. \n\nAnd yet, he didn't seem lacking from it. He was strong in many ways, handsome, and braver than most. He'd shouldered a lot for the name of Astoria and his loyalty was the kind spoken about in legends. Her mind was mulling over him still, she hadn't noticed him lean in until he was just a breath away from her. Her fingers curled to catch his hand, and she leaned forward as well, catching his lips in a soft, curious kiss."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric was drunk, she could easily taste the wine on his breathe. Though, if anything this may have helped him with the fact that he was entirely inexperienced in kissing. He'd kissed a girl before, of course, the blacksmith he was working for had kissed him when he was fourteen. That was the last time. So, he was clumsy and for Angelica, pretty clearly didn't know what he was doing. He was just guessing, and became a little more enthusiastic when she returned the kiss.\n\nHis hands slid into hers and he leaned closer to her, emboldened by the fact that she didn't repulse from him."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "She didn't mind the taste of wine on his lips, there certainly was a lingering red on her own from the glasses she'd had with him and Rose. His hand moved to lace with hers, and she slipped from the ledge of the window to place herself in his lap. She broke the kiss for long enough to hike her dress up so she could straddle him so she wouldn't be sitting awkwardly and sideways in his lap, but the moment she was seated she pulled him into another kiss, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck. \n\nIt was surprisingly nice, and though she'd never intended to kiss Eric Stafford, doing so was actually quite enjoyable. She gave a soft laugh against his lips, and the smile she couldn't hide anymore made her blush a bit, coloring her cheeks pink."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Releases a small chuckle, and perhaps it was the third ale causing her little outburst but Axari chose this moment to speak up. \"Well, considering that this little vision has me scared shitless, I'm in to go see this priest.\" She suddenly shifted to a serious demeanor \"But pardon me if I don't put too much stock in **The gods**\" \n\nAxari finished off her drink and stood to her feet, placing a hand onto Satine's shoulder and patting it gently. \"And if we're all going to be traveling together for the time being, I should formally introduce myself, and hopefully you'll all do the same. I'm Axari.\" She smiles slightly and laughs dryly as her pinkish-orange eyes drifted over the three compatriots who had assembled at the bar."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric felt weak for that moment where Angelica had broken the kiss. Did she regret it? Was she about to ask him to leave? Before he knew it, she was on his lap and had initiated a second kiss. His heart near ripped out of his chest and the kiss resumed, Eric's hands wandered to her lower back and pushed he closer so their chest were touching, as if to secure her tightly. Eric's feet planted firmly on the ground and he stood up while still holding Angelica and the kiss.\n\nSomehow, the intimacy sobered Eric up enough for him to cross the room effortlessly, Angelica barely weighing as much as his armor, and brought her to the bed. He was acting off instinct at this point, drunk off wine and something else, he dropped her onto the bed with the mattress making a loud shifting noise from the impact. Eric laughed for a moment, with the kiss broken. He didn't say a thing, not wanting to break the mood. He climbed over her and kissed her again, this time it was a little different. He held it for a moment, before breaking it and pulling away to look at her a moment."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "At this point Faolan was just waiting to go, he didn't care about much else. He was the type of guy to cut right to the chase, no bullshit, so while everyone was introducing themselves and taking their time he was already moving towards the door, taking the time to lean against the wall and checking his nails for dirt. One of them already knew his name, that was enough for him. Faolan than crossed his arms over his chest and looked towards the three women, waiting for at least the Knightress to lead the way since she was the only one who knew where to go.\n\nIt was safe to say the pirate wasn't all too thrilled about all of this, his plan was to come here, get drunk, maybe get laid, visit the house of McLoughlin for a day or two and then head back to sea but this was definitely something he didn't expect to say the least. He didn't even really believe in the gods all that much, or maybe he just didn't regard them, either way, why of all people would they contact him? He couldn't help but wonder, and that question was all that had been on his mind since they began to take into consideration this is a divine warning."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "He lifted her so effortlessly, she didn't even notice they had crossed the room until he released her, and she found her back against the bed. Angelica let out a small 'oof' at the change in altitude and position so quickly, and she felt the rush of wine and arousal clouding her mind. She barely had enough time to pull her leg up, propping her foot on the covers before he was climbing over her. \n\nFingers curled in his shirt, gripping his collar as he kissed her once more. It was heavier, with a lot more intent behind it, and something about it was incredibly exciting to her. Admittedly, it had been a long time since she'd fallen into bed with anyone, and her nerves were only subdued by the wine she'd had as well. Otherwise she would have blushed, stopped it after the second kiss, and gone to find somewhere else to sleep and spend the night staring at the ceiling wishing she hadn't. \n\nHe broke the kiss once more, an annoying habit if he was going to keep it up, and she gave a soft chuckle as he looked over her. \"This dress is hideous, this shirt is hideous. I'm tired of looking at them.\" She murmured, and pulled his collar upwards, pulling it off him and tossing it aside without regard for order or detail at the moment."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "If Eric hadn't drunken as much as he had, he wouldn't have done half of the things he did. He knew that as he felt his shirt get pulled over his head. Seeing was difficult, he essentially saw a small outline beneath him and this outline made his heart rush. Instantly, he became aware of each mark she couldn't see. The scars from arrows on his shoulders, the pale white marks on his stomach, side, and ribs from the ambushes in Southern Feyshore. She couldn't see them, but that didn't stop Eric's consciousness from trying to scare him. Eric was drunk enough to ignore it and followed Angelica's lead, and began working at her dress. The dress found itself in a pile with his shirt somewhere in the dark room, his pants found that pile also, the sounds of the clothes hitting the floor were the quietest noise in that room as it fades to black..."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "A deep sigh left her lips as she turned to grab the bottle from Faolan but noticed that he had suddenly vanished. Her golden brown eyes studied their surroundings until she caught sight of him leaning by the door, obviously impatient. Turning to face the bar, she noticed the bartender was currently distracted with other customers, which annoyed her greatly. She didn't seem to have the time to wait for him so she left some coins on the bartop before leaning over to grab one of the full bottles, not caring what exactly it was before she stumbled her way towards the exit. She would be needing to stay as drunk as possible for as long as she could. \nWalking past Faolan, she already had begun sculling the bottle. Honestly, Taireen was surprised she still had the ability to stand, let alone walk. \"I'm only coming for answers, you idiots can go off and hunt that thing on your own.\""
}
] | 200 | 7,401 |
189.387097 | 2018-12-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "A nod simple nod had become her response to the somewhat bitter but willing acceptance to visiting the seer. With this and a turn on one foot she had begun her strides towards the door of the bar, her eyes now falling on the only man in their convoy. \n\"Alright Pirate, do you prefer your boat or mine? It is only a short ride to South Feyshore, but I do not wish to sway your decision making.\" She noted as she walked through the door and back into the commonwealth. The sun was gleaming rather lightheartedly through the meek clouds that lie over the sky today. This overcast made the day slightly dimmer, yet not enough to predict bad sailing weather"
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Followed suit with everyone and walked out of the tavern, loudly sighing as she did. \"Another damned ship. Just got into port this morning...\" The black haired woman groaned in a bit of frustration \"This had better be a great story, which, speaking of, does anyone here have any objections to me adding this story to my repertoire? Because honestly, people in taverns love a monster hunt story, and even better, a true monster hunt story.\" Her eyes light up \"Gods, and this one'll be an original.\" She laughs softly and her smile widens, suddenly the prospect of another ship voyage doesn't seem so bad. \"I'll be the only bard with this one. Try your best to be heroic everyone yeah?\" She pulls her hood up as they walk down the streets, the cowl obscuring her features as intended. \"So where's the ship we're taking?\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan stepped out of the tavern along with the others, having left his drink at the bar so honestly Taireen had no trouble getting her hands on it regardless. As he stepped out he turned to look over his shoulder towards Satine with half lidded eyes, his fingers interlocking as his arms stretched upward. \"I suppose we can take mine.\" He started as he stretched, followed by a sigh of relief once he dropped his arms. \"Might as well yeah? The Jörmungandr is a speed demon in its own right, not to mention my magic helps a tad.\" Faolan explained before proceeding down the street, expecting the lot to follow behind him. \"This way, back at the port. Big shock right? A ship at a port? Absolutely mad.\" He responded to Axari."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She couldn't help the snicker that escaped her lips towards Faolan's humorous comment. Though, the realisation hit her that she would be travelling through the ocean. Her eyes flickered between the group she was now travelling with, tempted to speak up about how sick when on anything that moved over the water. Eventually she decided to keep her mouth sealed, knowing it would make her nothing but an annoyance. Turning towards the drow, Taireen nudged her elbow into her side. \"So you like telling stories yeah?\" She questioned, making sure her pace was the same as the others while also struggling to not trip over her own feet. \"Are all the stories you tell true? Or do you make some of the shit up on the spot?\""
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Actively, Satine had went from leading the group out of the tavern to allowing Faolon to speed ahead of her once he had claimed his ship as their transportation. Her ears had lit up with the sound of the two females speaking on their own parts, and then in tune. \"I wouldn't mind.\" She lightly prodded before catching up to the man infront of her with a few large steps.\n\"So how long have you been sailing?\" She questioned as a smile had come across her face. She had placed her hands behind her back as she seemed to glide forward, opening her body language to conversation. \"I'm not quite sure if you noticed, however my boat is the one docked in front of your ship.\" The boat was slightly worn, yet well lived in. It was clear that the boat was made for moving quickly over short distances and shallow waters, however Satine never feared taking her in the deep. This was also clear due to the few repairs along the sides of the boat. To the knightress- she was old, yet trustworthy."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Sighed softly at his snarky remark, but admittedly it was a dumb question. Of course they were heading to the port. She found herself lost in her thoughts, and when she felt an elbow bumping into her she quickly glanced over to Taireen. \"Yeah, tell stories, sing songs, write poems, occasionally more...\" She clears her throat and looks over to the thin framed human. \"They're mostly true, that's what the people want. Naturally, I take some creative liberty, to make sure that the story fits the crowd.\" \n\nAxari raises a brow at Taireen \"Why do you ask? Have a story to pass along? I'm always looking for new tales, keeps me well fed and moderately paid.\" The halfdrow looked Taireen over, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. \"I don't mean to be rude, but you really don't Strike me as the adventuring type. If you aren't bothered by the question, why do you plan on coming along with us?\" She quickly purses her lips and recovers a bit \"Not that I mind the company that is, simply curious.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Once again the pirate captain looked over his shoulder towards the Knightress. \"Oh, that piece of shhhh... Shining beauty? Yeah, I saw her. Quite the vessel.\" Faolan stated rather teasingly followed by a playful smirk as he shifted his gaze forward once again. \"Been sailing most my life. My foster father owned the Jörmungandr before me, taught me everything I know.\" Faolan explained, the sarcastic tone in his voice beginning to fade the more he talked about his father and his life as a sailor. After a moment of staring off into space he slowed down a bit to allow Satine to catch up, walking along side her. \"What about you? Who'd you steal your beauty from? And by your beauty I mean the ship, not uh... You. Not that you're not pretty, I just prefer to flirt with women when the threat of a great plague isn't dangling over our heads like Davy Jones' cock...\" Faolan then cleared his throat after his ramble, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his head."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Hearing the two talk ahead of them, Taireen couldn't help but roll her eyes. As Axili spoke up, she nodded as a way to show she was listening while eyeing the two in front. Bringing her bottle to her lips, she took a few swigs before offering it to the drow beside her. \"When you've seen your own corpse in a vision, I think it's logical to want to know more about it. I probably will only stop at Feyshore, I'd rather do my best to avoid whatever beast you guys plan on hunting down so that way, I'm not bringing death closer in my direction.\" She replied before raising her voice so Faolan could properly hear her, certain that he was probably distracted by Satine. \"Do you have any booze on your ship?\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Widened her eyes \"Fuck, you saw your own corpse in your vision?\" She accepts the bottle and tilts it back, taking a quick swig and grimacing at the burn. \"Gods that's strong.\" She mutters with a little laugh as she hands the bottle off to Taireen. She quickly moves up beside Satine and Faolan \"I do just have to ask, how long is this voyage? You two are the sailors here, any sort of estimation?\" She falls into step beside the two as the little band of soon-to-be-adventurers made their way down the docks toward the Jörmungandr."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Upon hearing Faolan's response, Satine laughed and tossed fist at his upper arm playfully before regaining her posture. This time with her arms resting naturally at her sides. \"Hey! It does me well, takes me where I need to be.\" She argued lightly, making sure to keep her expression light and joyful so that the pirate would know she was only kidding. \nYet whenever Faolan;s tone had gone slightly dark, she hadn't been affected. Of course, she stopped the goofing off for a second, as a sign of respect, but the story did not come as a shock to her. For she understood that some people are more sensitive to their past more than others.\n Whenever the moment had passed, and she had found that he had awaited to allow them to walk as equals, she was quite pleased again. \"Oh me? I stole it from my ex Husband Bradai Maith. You may know him as the Pirate King.\" She noted lightheartedly as she admired the boats down the dock before turning her head to address Axari \"South Feyshore is only up the coast. Depending on the speed of his ship we should reach our goal by the time the sun is leaning towards the west."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "For a second Faolan was shocked, his eyebrows raising in response to the woman's statement. Very interesting indeed, he wasn't fearful but she definitely intrigued him to say the least. She dressed like a Viking and sailed the seas... She'd make a perfect addition to his crew but alas he wasn't confident she would accept if he offered. \"Your ex husband is—\" Was all he managed to get about before he was cut off, but honestly he didn't mind. Perhaps that was a conversation for another time. Then in response to Satine's answer, he turned his head to look back at Axari. \"What she said...\" He spoke up softly, allowing her to answer for him. He knew he had one hell of a fast ship so sailing there wouldn't be a problem. \n\n\"What's your story lass?\" The pirate captain spoke once more not long after Axari's question had been answered. He was genuinely interested about a woman's story for once, it shocked even him despite he wasn't the type of man to care much for people unless they were part of his crew or were useful/essential to his success, she did fall into that category but why he cared to know more about her he just could not place his finger on."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Bradai signed, leaning over the back of his chair to look at his Viceroy and husband, who was currently standing on a group of boxes, binoculars in hand. \n\n\"What are vhey doing now?\" He asked, swirling small puddle of gin in the bottom of his glass. Dimitri pulled the curtains away, leaving just enough room for the lenses of the binoculars to peek through. \"She's gotten in his lap and theeeey're...\" There was a brief pause, then a disappointed sigh, \"_kissing again._\" \n\nThe Pirate King finished off his glass and shook his head, \"Vhat's just fucking gross. We shouldn't 'ave given vhem so much wine.\"\n\n\"Oh fuck...\" The Pirate King set down his pen.\n\n\" 'e's _not_ gonna be able to get it up.\""
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine continued onward as she had almost felt the gears of Faolon's mind turning on her behalf. Indeed, she knew that her past was to be interesting to people, yet she never really stopped to tell her tales as the Drow did. Furthermore, Axari did interest her, as did the frail woman. Along her travels she has encounter many people, this group of people she held seemed to be intentionally brought together in her mind. \nHer eyes now set on the two ships side by side on the dock and their harsh comparisons to one another. She ran her fingers along the wood of the Jormungandr as she admired it's build. \"My story? Well I could give you any lick of fiction and call it my story. My past however is vast like the mountains. It would take much getting to know be for one to sum up my story.\" She babbled lightly on her views, only to realize that she wasn't answering the underlying purpose of his question. \"But if you must know I was a farmer trained under a knight whom I could only expect pitied my existance. Then I became a knightress, then a head guard. I married and divorced... Then went to talk to a seer on a whim. There I changed direction and I've been adventuring all over the lands for what seems like fifteen years now.\"\nHer eyes shifted from the boat to the many crew men that fell under Faolon's pecking order, and after a short while her eyes had finally landed on Axari once again. \"I'm not quite sure how story telling comes so easily to you. I always have trouble because I tend to see moments as rocks along the mountain range- each building up to create a mountain of memory. But you seem to pluck those rocks from your memories easily. Do you know how?\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Nods her head as her question is answered. \"Good, I'm not too keen on traversing the open ocean like you two. Ships are... Confining.\" She then resigned to just follow and listen curiously to the pair as they spoke. Satine told the abridged version of her story, and upon completion, Axari's gears were already turning so to speak. Admittedly she really wanted to get more detail, or perhaps just fill those details in herself at a later date. This, perhaps dishonest, train of thought was derailed when she was directly addressed by the Viking woman. \"Oh well, thank you, first off. But the secret is the details. You mentioned seeing rocks, and they all pile up, but any single stone in that pile is full of imperfections; little grooves, chips, ups and downs, and each one is it's own shape. Well the same goes for stories. Each story is a single instance, a small portion of a lifetime, but each of these instances has its imperfections, and the ability of a storyteller to capture those individualities and convey them is what makes a story great.\" She grins a little and then says \"I could teach you a bit about oration, if you'd like, Satine?\" She turns her gaze to the ship and whistles softly. \"Have to say, Pirate. This is a much more impressive ship than the one I sailed in on.\" Her gaze darts over to Faolin, then back to his vessel."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "The Captain of the Jörmungandr started up the ramp onto the deck of the ship before calling out. \"Alright ladies! Set course for South Feyshore! There's been a change in plans!\" While some responded with a resounding 'aye aye' others stood confused for a moment, they didn't understand what reason the captain would have for going there but regardless they prepared like everyone else. He then turned back towards the three ladies, looking between each of them. \"Make yourselves at home. I suggest not getting too friendly with the locals though, there are some that can get a bit grabby but they mean well.\" With that, assuming the three accompanied him on the Jörmungandr, the ship began to rock and move, causing a few folks to stumble with the sudden movement under them. His gaze then rested upon Axari, his lips forcing into a smile at the compliment. \"Well. We may be pirates but we know how to take care of our shit.\" Faolan maintained his smile as he responded to her before making his way towards the front of his ship to look out into the sea as the ship turned."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Before boarding the ship, Satine had broken off from their convoy for a second in order to snatch up a Shield from the edge of her boat. To which she promptly hung it on the edge of the Jormungandr just as it was hung on the side of her voyager. \nAfter, she had returned to Axari to address her properly on her perspective on story telling. \"That is a very interesting way to look at things, however I imagine it requires skill and practice. Perhaps by the end of this excursion I would learn a few tricks to better showcase details.\" She smiled at the woman before casting her gaze out towards the horizon. After a brief moment, her emeralds turned towards the crew as she inspected them. \"Tell me Faolan, what excursions do you are your crew usually participate in? Are they good in combat?\" She questioned lightheartedly as she then motioned back to Axari and the frail woman. \"I'm sure they would be delighted to know as well.\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Nods her head \"I can see that captain. Everything appears to be in top shape.\" She walks aboard the Jörmungandr and walks over to the seaward facing side of the ship, looking out at the blue horizon. \"Well, I imagine we'll be stuck together for a short time so, I'd be happy to pass some things along.\" She says, turning her back to the sea and leaning against the railing of the ship. \"Ah, yes I am quite invested to know the skill of your men. I've only got this shortsword, and, if I'm being honest I'll do many many things to avoid having to draw it. Not exactly the fighting type.\" She smiles to one of Faolan's crew, then to Faolan himself \"So, can I trust that your men will keep me safe, within reason of course, Captain?\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Taireen passed the fuck out."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "The captain then turned back towards the two, looking between the two remaining conscious women before starting past them towards the main portion of the deck, it was time he made something clear to his crew. But as he past Satine he spoke something to her, loud enough for both her and Axari to hear. An answer to her question. \"The best.\" And with that he stood up on an elevated platform, placed his index finger and thumb in his mouth and let loose a loud whistle to get the crew's attention. By now they were likely already sailing across the waters, departing from the docks completely. \"Listen up! I want to make something clear! The three women I have come aboard with are under *MY* PROTECTION! If anyone touches them in any way they are not comfortable with, looking at you Fergus and Devlin, I will personally remove hand from wrist. Do I make myself clear?!\" Faolan finished his lecture to which his crew responded with a resounding 'Aye aye! Captain!' Faolan then stepped down from the elevated platform and proceeded back towards the two, his gaze resting upon Axari. \"Now you can.\""
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine couldn't help but smirk whenever Faolon had claimed his crew was the best at combat, nor could she help but let out a little laugh whenever he had spoken so outwardly to the crew. In order to conceal this inappropriate outburst, she had placed her arm over her mouth and turned about so that she was looking towards the horizon once more. \nAfter a moment had past and another rock of memory had fallen upon Satine's mountain rage, she then placed both of her hands on the side of the ship and leaned on it. Her eyes gazing out as far as they could reach. \"I see, and what do you lads do for fun around this vessel?\" She questioned, glancing between Faolon and Axari before speaking once more; this time in a lower tone so only the two could hear. \"I find it humorous that they follow you so, much like dogs in my perspective. However I do not mean that in a disrespectful manner.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Any sign of a smile or smirk faded as Satine stated this, his arms crossing over his chest and his gray eyes fixing on the woman's. \"They follow me out of respect, they trust me with their lives, they bask in the glory of a battle or a raid and they are protected and paid handsomely. I trust these men with my life and they trust me with theirs. They are less like dogs and more like dire wolves, and I am their pack leader.\" Faolan spoke up boldly, almost militaristic-like, his eyes never leaving Satines even for a few moments after he finished speaking. Finally, his expression softened and he yawned, reaching a hand up to scratch his beard. \"I know we just came from a tavern but I think it's only fair I let you know we have alcohol on board as well as a galley for if you get hungry.\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Nods her head simply, slightly laughing as the men call out a resounding \"Aye aye.\" Axari smiles widely and remarks \"I feel safer already.\" She leans in close to Faolan and says in a hushed voice \"And uhh, none of your men take issue to sailing with a Drow? Or at the very least they can keep their mouths shut about it for the next couple of days?\" As she asks this question, her confidence seems to fade a bit, her features losing their usual excitement for a brief moment, instead her face serious and dour."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine watched the facial features of the pirate as he had spoken to her solemnly. Patiently and respectfully she had waited him to finish, however she could not find it within herself to internally make connections of her own. \"I see, to them you are the Alpha male and they are the betas. One day I might have to tag along on one of those raids so I may further understand this bond.\" \nNow, she had watched at Axari had spoken gently to Faolan on the topic of her race. This also intrigued her. \"Tell me, Axari. What do people find so bad about Drow? For I do not quite understand.\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Listens to Satine's question, then shrugs her shoulders with the same grin expression as earlier. \"A lot of things. We get lumped under the broad and, rather offensive title of 'sub-humans.' Many of us are slaves, and considered a resource instead of a group of people. And more recently due to the whole anti-magic fanaticism, many suspect us to be sorcerers or other kinds of mages, probably because of the glowing eyes and pointed ears. We don't exactly look like humans, so obviously we must be magical, right?\" She says that last part with a dry, sarcastic tone. She nods her head \"So yeah. I've grown used to people assuming the worst of me. But I'm always happy to prove them wrong.\" Her lips tug upward into the slightest of smirks as she says that, and her eyes flit upward to meet Satine's. \"It's good you don't understand all that though. Proves you're not quite as shitty as most people seem to be.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "With his arms still crossed over his breastplate he continued to listen to the two speak about the supposed racism against Drows before finally cutting in himself. \"Well, you should know we don't discriminate here, you'll likely find that we are a rather diverse group of gentlemen. There are a few women on here as well amongst are crew, like four I believe. Shows you don't always have to be a man to be a badass. Point is, don't worry about your race, nobility, culture. We're all the same on the inside.\" Faolan then looked towards Taireen who had found a nice little cozy place to rest on one of the benches towards the side of the ship's deck, sleeping peacefully. \"Should we wake her or let her sleep until we get to South Feyshore?\""
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine's confusion was lifted once Axari had explained what some people thought of her race of people. Presenting a large smile after she had complimented her on not being shitty. \"Ah, I see. Titles can be both good for a community yet ruin a quality of life for the lower. Yet, I say never listen to those who are ignorant enough to criticize!\" She nodded with upcoming glee as she had patted the back of the Drow in an attempt to comfort without having good comforting skills. \"I'll tell you to compare, but I used to be criticized for being a farmer turned knight. You know what I did?\" She paused, glancing between her and Faolan. \"I threatened to run a blade across their Achilles as they slept. Surprising how threats deter threats, hmm?\" Another pat followed.\nHer eyes then crossed to the sleeping frail one, and Satine and placed her arms behind her back in order to open up her bodily language again. \"I say let her sleep off all that alcohol and feed her whenever she wakes. She seems to be the one most affected by our dreams, yes?\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan nodded before turning his head back towards the two. \"Yeah it seems so. I'm sure you both thought I was there to drink my visions away, I was going to drink visions or not.\" He said with a chuckle, letting his arms drop to his sides, his left hand resting comfortably on the pommel of his sword. \"I don't think I introduced myself, a bit late but I was a bit eager to get things moving. I'm Faolan. I believe I heard you said you're...\" He paused for a moment, looking at Satine. \"Satine. Right? I don't think I heard your name though.\" He added, looking to Axari."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Axari shrugs her shoulders \"I suppose that could work, but I prefer extortion to threats in all honesty. Everyone has something that they don't want someone to know, and once you uncover that, well...\" She shrugs and leaves the rest up to the imagination. She clears her throat and turns to Faolan as he introduced himself \"I'm Axari, it's a pleasure to meet you, and I thank you for the use of your ship.\" She extends a hand and waits for him to shake."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "The knightress nodded her head in response to the pirate calling her by her right name. \"Indeed, whenever I had introduced myself no one would shake my hand.\" She raised an eyebrow playfully at both Axari and Faolan. With this she had intruded the handshake between them in order to gain her own before they had. \"With light heart of course, I honestly don't believe you lot had noticed because of all the dream commotion.\" She chuckled lightly before leaning against the side of the ship once more. \"Well what is there to do for fun? WE must past the time somehow.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan was... Confused to say the least. He looked down at the hand then back Axari... Then back at the hand again. He then made do with the only thing he could think of, grabbing a mug from one of the random passing crew members who appeared to he drinking on the job before placing the mug in the held out hand and smiling. \"There you are lass.\" He then shifted his gaze to Satine, retracting his hand. \"Normally we sing, eat, dance, work, fight for fun, I believe there's some extra women onboard but they're probably busy at the moment unless they're the ones in my crew... Not sure if either of you swing that way though. We have darts, we drink, shit like that.\" Faolan explained followed by a shrug as he looked about the ship. \"Feel free to make yourselves at home though for the time being.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "\"Did someone say drink?\" Came out a croaked reply from nearby, Taireen's throat feeling like she had been licking salt all afternoon. With great struggle, The frail woman cracked one of her eyeslids open as a pained groan escaped her lips. She did not enjoy hangovers, it felt like death to her. Her muscles felt limp and nausea was beginning to make itself known. \"Why is the ground moving?\" She asked, confused about her current situation, her memories hazed by the amount of alcohol she drank. All she remembered was that damned vision and going to the tavern for a drink. The more she though about, the more she began to remember. Unfortunately after remembering Faolan, the one who had just mentioned drinking, everything turned black. Sitting herself up with great difficulty, she looked towards the three that had been speaking and then her surroundings. She was on a fucking ship. \"What did I fucking get myself into?\" She asked, visibly annoyed though it was only towards herself. She needed to remember to eat when she planned on drinking or else this shit happened."
}
] | 184 | 5,871 |
208.85 | 2018-12-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Laughed softly as she was given the mug \"Not exactly what I was expecting but I suppose this'll do.\" She simply says, sipping the drink before turning to Satine \"It seems he doesn't shake hands, darlin, however I seem to have forgotten to shake yours.\" She steps forward and takes Satine's hand, shaking it gently, then raising it to her lips and kissing the knightress' knuckles softly. \"Figure that'll make up for it.\" The Drow coyly says as she releases the hand and sips her drink. \"Well, you know I'm good for singing Faolan. But I think I'd quite enjoy hustling a bit of coin from your men at darts... And perhaps visiting one of those women you speak of.\" She walks past the captain to go below deck \"You see, women are enjoyable companions, men are profitable ones, if you understand what I'm saying.\" She smirks softly and crosses to the stairs leading below deck. \"If anyone needs me, wants to play darts, or would like to share a drink, song, or perhaps the evening, I'll be below deck.\" She puts her cowl down as she walks below deck, brushing her black hair back behind her ears. The three hear from top deck \"So! Who thinks they can take me at darts!?\" The Drow called out as she went below deck."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan watched as Axari walked off, seems she was a lot more like his crew members than he thought. He then realized Taireen had woken, but she likely needed time to rest before she did anything, which left him and Satine. He turned back to face her once more, looking over her briefly. \"You're not into women too right? That's not why your Bradai and you split?\" Faolan asked, mostly out of curiosity... Mostly. Axari seemed comfortable on board, hell, if it came down to it she'd most likely fit right in with the crew, to Faolan she seemed like the type. Most of his other female crew members were either bisexual or lesbian anyway so.. Guess you can say she had all the enjoyable companions she could as for."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine had cordially shaken the hand of Azari before she had disappeared below deck, sending a smile her way before turning attention towards Taireen for a second. She waved at the woman, hoping to get her attention so she could join conversation and be merry for once."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When she was ignored, Taireen rolled her eyes and slid off the bench she had been on. This was one of the reasons why she didn't enjoy the company of others. \"It seems that neither of you have ears.\" She sighed in disappointment before slowly making her way towards the two of them. \"Now can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?\" For some reason, she had found herself on a ship surrounded by strangers. \"Last I remember I was trying to give myself alcohol poisoning in the tavern and now I'm on a death box.\" She waved her arms around, showing she was regarding the boat. Looking between the two in front of her, she noticed they had been in the middle of a conversation but she didn't care too much at this point."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "'Well, someone seems grouchy' Faolan thought to himself as he turned his head to look at the hungover woman, not that he could blame her, Taireen probably didn't remember much of what had happened and why she was here. So Faolan did the logical thing to do in this case scenario, he decided to fuck with her. \"We kidnapped you and are bringing you to south Feyshore to sell you into slavery. Try to escape and you'll have a whole lot of ocean between you and land.\" Faolan spoke up, struggling to keep a straight face as he watched her expression, briefly shifting his gaze back to Satine to see if she either had anything to add or was just getting a kick out of this in general."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "She had paused for a second, processing what Faolan was getting at. Yes, Taireen did seem quite miserable, but with good reason. A massive hangover and a preminision of death would make anyone dreadful. However, some fun would suit everyone well, so she had decided to tag along in this game of cat and mouse. \"Indeed, it is true. I'm sure the Feyshorians would love a lady of your caliber in their possession.\" She took a few steps towards the girl, expecting the man to follow suit."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Hearing what the two had to say, Taireen let out a disappointed sigh. She wasn't sure if the two were fucking with her but if they weren't, Taireen had bigger issues she needed to sort out. For example, how to get rid of a pounding headache and a body that felt like it was slowly dying. \"Oh please, if that's your plan then it's a idiotic one at that. I guarantee you would end up having to pay someone to take me off your hands. There was a reason I spent my days alone.\" She replied to them dryly before her hand pressed itself against her stomach while the other covered her mouth to keep the vomit down. As she noticed the female had stepped closer towards her, Taireen doubled over and threw up all the contents of her stomach. It wasn't much, mainly bile and the liquid she drank beforehand. \"Well this 'lady' needs something to eat and more to drink.\" She made sure to emphasise on the lady comment, amused that she was seen as one when she acted completely opposite."
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan made a face of disgust when she threw up on the deck of his ship. He wasn't all to affected by the throw up itself but damn, she was right by the ledge of the ship, she couldn't have thrown up over the edge? Faolan simply sighed in response, gesturing towards the door to the lower levels with his head. \"Come on, let's get ya something to eat. As for drinks, I think water will do.\" He spoke, starting towards the same door Axari vanished through, expecting the two to follow suit. He knew that one of ship's cleaners would get to the throw up eventually, surely they wouldn't mind, they have cleaned up worse than vomit before."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Surely as she said, the dark skinned Drow was over at the dartboard with a crew member. She threw a dart and hit bullseye, then turned to the person keeping score \"What do I need to win again?\" He responded with a gruff voice \"12 more points to tie, thirteen to win.\" She smiles and says \"Thank you very much\" As she turns her attention back to the board. With two darts left she turns to her opposition. \"An extra 10 coins say I beat you by one point. First dart goes in the double six, second dart goes into the one. Anything else happens and you get my money. We got a deal?\" The man thinks a moment, then nods. Axari laughs to herself thinking 'what a fool.' She turns attention back to the board and does exactly as she said. First dart in the double six, second dart in the one, both flying rapid fire, one after the other. She does a little jump in the air and laughs \"Hey! That went pretty well.\" She turned to the man with a wide grin, her eyes squinting at the corners as she smiles gleefully. What this crewmate didn't know, is that she could've blown him away. Hustling darts is one of Axari's most profitable cons, when she visits a tavern that doesn't allow performance that is. It's sort of a universal thing amongst bards, they spend a lot of time in taverns, most taverns have dartboards, and there's always some drunk codger willing to lose some money. As a result, most bards end up playing a lot of darts. Axari holds out her hand to the man and smiles as he places fifteen coins in her palm. \"Thank you very much, darlin.\" She tucks the coin into her pouch and turns to the crowd \"Anyone else want to play? I barely won that one, maybe you'll get lucky?\" She turns to see Faolan coming down the stairs and shrugs her shoulders apologetically, as though apologizing for hustling his crew."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine let out a great sigh as the woman had thrown up on the ground, just out of reach from her boots. \"Well aren't you graceful?\" She remarked sarcastically as she turned on foot, only to observe Faolan coaxing the female towards the lower deck and following through. Upon reaching lower ship, she couldn't help but notice Axari schooling men at darts. This made her smile as she always enjoyed watching women prevail, it gave her a sense of pride and a hope that more girls would grow to prevail. \n\"Food does seem tempting, now why don't you entertain me with your story Faolan? And you too- erm... I've never managed to catch your name.\" She entertained then noted towards the woman, figuring that she would only receive some form of viporous tongue as that has been the growing trend. However, Satine always wished to try her best at showing everyone respect until proven that they do not deserve it."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She couldn't help but act snappy towards everyone she came across. That's what seeing her own death mixed with the god awful hangover did to a person. When Faolan mentioned water, she couldn't help but turn her nose upwards in disgust. \"I would really prefer something that would intoxicate me this whole trip.\" She also didn't want to start withdrawing from the lack of her tea. \nShe followed him netherless along with Satine. She had heard her name when she had given it to the man while in a state of mid consciousness.She didn't mind the comments that were thrown towards her, there was a reason she preferred to live alone. \"Taireen.\" She answered simply as her fingers tapped against her arm impatiently while holding herself. \"And I prefer to keep that to myself.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Chances are the men in the lower deck were buzzed if not fully drunk if they had time to be playing darts, it was no surprise anyone could school them at this particular moment. Faolan also smiled at the sight, the scene before them only confirming his suspicions that Axari would most likely make a great fit on his ship if given the opportunity to join, albeit he wouldn't confront her about it. Not yet anyway. He made his way over to the galley where food was served to those on the ship, the Captain moving to grab a glass of water for Taireen, setting it on the counter for the hungover woman to take. \"Drink. You'll feel better in time.\" He then looked towards Satine who had asked about his story yet he didn't know why. She was some sort of Knightress, someone special, ex wife of Bradai Maith. Sure Faolan was the captain of the Jormungandr but still, aside from the title there wasn't much interesting about him, or from his perspective anyway. \"Oh y'know, the usual sob story really. Didn't know my parents, blah blah, got adopted, blah blah, joined foster father's pirate crew, yada yada, took said pirate crew when he died blah blah... And here we are. Nothing special.\" He spoke, trying to sum it up in the most abridged way he could possibly manage, he wasn't the kind of guy to open up to people about his life, his past, the only crew members who knew his origins were his foster father, who is deceased, and his first mate (who still needs to create his fucking character bio). Of course, he felt it wouldn't be impossible to grow to trust his new companions, but it wouldn't be easy, not for Faolan."
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Nothing but pure admiration had come from Satine as she had shifted her gaze around the room, watching all of the men and a few women be merry and drink. To see a many people act as if they were brothers intrigued her and her association of pirates and dogs had once again begun to fade. \"The comradely in this room is strong, almost fraternal to say the least.\" She commented before looking at Taireen as she had finally given Satine her name. \"Well its very nice to meet you, Taireen. And I suppose that is fair.\" She gifted her with a smile sweet like honeycombs before glancing back towards Faolan as he had delivered a story in between 'yada yadas'. \"It seems to me that all of us with the execption of Azari have the story telling skills of barbarians.\" This joke parted her lips.\nNow she had found herself gazing at the gallery which offered a nice variety of food. With a slight hunger in her stomach she had moved to obtain a challace of water, only to pour it over her hands and then splash the water in small amounts to clean her face. \"I believe we should all eat, for whatever the seer foretells will be easier to bear with full stomachs.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When Faolan has handed her the glass of water, Taireen couldn't help but look towards it with hatred. She hated the taste of water, let alone the fact it didn't give her an easy way to happiness like alcohol and her special teas did. Grabbing the glass in one of her hands, the frail woman had to concentrate carefully so it wouldn't spill. Her hands shook with unease and the rocking of the boat didn't make it any easier. She did eventually manage to drink all the water before placing the glass down. Taireen leaned her arms against the counter so she could bury her head in it. The shouting of his crew was getting to her, increasing the pain of her splitting headache. She was tempted to scream out for everyone to shut up. Her stomach turned at the mentioning of food but knew she had to force herself to eat or else the hangover would probably become worse. Lifting her head, she made sure to make direct eye contact with Faolan before placing her hands together like she was about to send her prayers. \"Seriously can you please get me something to drink that isn't water? What would you prefer? You refusing to let me drink right this minute so you have to deal with a rude, hungover bitch who I guarantee will not be able to contain her sea sickness, or would you pefer someone who is cheerfully drunk with a smile on her face?\" Her eyes glanced down towards the food for a split second before her lips pressed together in a thin line. \"And it will help me eat.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "This woman was more of a drunk than he was, which surprised him because he was a pretty big drunk when he wanted to be but he knew when to keep a clear mind. \"Drink the water. It will help you feel better in the long run, alcohol will only make you throw up on my ship more. Once you hydrate and get some food in your stomach you can lay down and rest. This isn't a request, you will do this, trust me it is in your best interest.\" Faolan spoke firmly, staring into the woman's eyes as he spoke, showing her he was not taking no for an answer. Her well being was more important than her comforts, even if she was to throw up, perhaps he could get her a bucket or something."
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Finished up her second game of darts, another \"Close game\" She collected her money from the challenger and grinned wide as she crossed to the group standing over at the makeshift bar. \"So, what's our plan when we get to South Feyshore? Someone had uhh what a Shaman or someone we can go speak to yeah?\" She gets herself a cup of water and raises it to her lips. \"And what all did you see? Maybe we can start to piece this together hmm? I didn't see much, it was more of a feeling. A blinding headache, and just... Well intense dread.\" She clears her throat nervously. \"Made me feel sick to my stomach.\""
},
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine had taken the liberty to go ahead and eat while the woman and the pirate bickered over weather she was allowed to drink or not. This was rather odd to her, simply do to the fact that Faolan felt he had a say so in her actions. Not that he didn't considering they were guests on his boat, however if Satine had found herself in the woman's spot she would have been encouraged rebel at any point in their argument. She had fetched herself a platter and leaned against the bar with her free arm, plucking food from her plate as she watched the three for a second. \nOnly was it when Axari had mentioned the shamen did Satine pause her eating to speak up. \"Indeed, once did I seek advice from him and his words opened a new world to me. I have heard of people going to him to interpret dreams or ask of their fates. However, this would be my first time asking of a dream.\" She stopped for a second to seek out her chalice of water, drinking it down before placing it on the bar once more. \"For me, I hear the sound of flies around my ears and caught a whiff of death. Only did I see blood dripping from an unknown figure before the blinding headache had come and I was also filled with dread.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Taireen clenched her jaw in anger, causing her teeth to grind against each other. She wanted to argue with him but decided it was best not to anger the person who's ship she currently was on in the middle of the ocean. Grabbing a plate, Taireen dramatically made her way towards where all the food had been placed and dumped on a small amount. The frail woman sat down at the closest seat to her and put her plate against the counter top. She really wasn't hungry, she would be surprised if she was able to stomach any of the food in front of her. As the drow spoke up and they explained what they had seen, Taireen lost any appetite she had before and pushed her plate away. \"Well you guys had it fucking easy.\" She snapped towards them, her anger rising. First no alcohol, then having to go off on an adventure with some group of strangers and then she was being told she had to eat and drink water. The worst part was hearing what they had seen. \"If I don't get some booze soon..\" She turned to look towards Faolan. \"I'm going to lose my shit. I had to see my own mutilated corpse so I think I should be free to remain intoxicated this entire trip.\""
},
{
"author": "ameizing2030",
"message": "Listened to what Satine and Taireen saw in their vision and she sighed. \"Fucking hell. Yeah I would say I had it easy.\" She coughs nervously and reaches into her coat to produce a flash. She sips the whiskey inside, then slides the small tarnished silver container over to Taireen. \"Just don't kill yourself drinking darlin. At least make sure you can walk when we get to port hmm? Oh, and I'd better get that flask back too.\" She sips her water and huffs softly. \"But hey, hopefully we won't have to face any of that reality right? Faolan assures us of the capability of his men, and Satine seems plenty capable as well. We can take down this beast and all be happily on our way.\""
},
{
"author": "nemoisnobody",
"message": "Faolan sighed as Taireen did what she was told albeit with an attitude, even if she thought she could handle the alcohol he knew in his heart he was doing her a favor. As time went on he realized he should probably take a break and just relax for a bit until they got to South Feyshore. Faolan grabbed a plate, a big slab of meat and a glass a bottle of rum from one of the barrels, moving to place the rum in front of Taireen before grabbing a bottle for himself. \"I'll give you ladies your space and what not... If anyone needs me I'll be in my quarters.\" And with that he started off down the hall of the lower deck to his quarters."
}
] | 165.5 | 4,177 |
313.473684 | 2018-12-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "yukoncornelius0185",
"message": "Satine continued to stand in her place, eating from het plate periodically as she had listened to the troubles of Taireen's tremors and Axari's attempts to console them. \"Indeed, I am plenty capable. Yet I think we should start thinking of what we are to ask the seer whenever we do get there. Too many questions and he might just dismiss us. We need to know what we are asking.\" She suggested as a form of change in topic. \nAll would have to admit that having visions of your own brutal death would be troubling, so she did not really wish to press on the matter. At least not until Taireen has had a comfortable amount of alcohol in her system."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "It was closer to noon than it was to sunrise when Eric began to stir in the bed, his arm trapped underneath the still sleeping Angelica. His head had a dull throb and everything wasi n a sort of haze. Then, memories flashed back to him of the previous night. He adjusted the covers and pulled them up, taking a quick glance beneath them to confirm suspcions. Once he'd confirmed that last night had actually happened, without a sound, Eric freaked the fuck out in his head. On the outside, Eric was just watching the woman who was ontop of his arm sleep, but on the inside Eric was falling apart, horrified at the prospect that Angelica might wake up thinking she made a drunken mistake. He was trying to find words to say, but, what do you say after a situation like this? \n\nThe dull throb got worse when he started to freak out and Eric rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand, then wrapped it around her and laid back down, deciding that no matter what, he had to wait for Angelica to wake up."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "He stirred, and the movement pulled her from her deep sleep. She wasn't facing him, thankfully, and the scrunch of her features before she awoke wasn't seen. Her memory wasn't foggy, and didn't take time to reappear. She'd had her fair share of wine in her life, and it didn't cause lapses in memory for her. So when she awoke, with Eric's are beneath her, she remembered exactly why. But more importantly she remembered him saying they should talk about what had happened when their heads were clear in the morning. \n\nAngelica's mind started planning the moment she opened her eyes; plotting out her day and the tasks she needed to do, above them though lingered that nasty little phrase of '_we should talk_' in Staffords voice, and she knew it was pointless to try and get through a day with Anya at the festival without stewing. She was supposed to see Rose again today, and once more something in the back of her mind pulsed at trying to remember her last name. It had been said in passing, so she didn't quite remember besides it reminding her of _something_. Bradai was supposed to be spoken to today as well, to get a report on Mikhail and how he'd been doing in the Isles and what Angelica needed to provide in terms of compensation for keeping the boy alive and -well, alive.\n\nHis arm draped over her, breaking her train of thought, and the blonde shifted a bit to free his arm if he wanted it, though in the same motion her arm laid over the one around her waist, lacing their fingers together. \"So how do you feel?\" She asked, wanting to get the hard part out of the way."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "The moment her figure stirred, his mouth went dry and he tried to swallow, his heart pounded so hard he was afraid she'd hear it. \"I don't think I've ever really felt this good before.\" Eric said, he eyes tracing down to where she held his hands. \"Even better now that you... Uh, haven't left the room in a hurry.\" He said with a short nervous laugh afterward. Eric bit the inide of his lip as he thought about what to say, how she might respond, and what he needed to do to repair their friendship when she rejected him. When his arm was freed, he slid it back and allowed blood to run through it again. \n\n\"So...\" He said, terrified of the direction of their conversation, \"Last night... Happened.\" Eric said matter-o-factly as he could. \n\n\"And...\" He the words were lost to him, he was more interested in just looking at her. \n\n\"I...\" It was so hard, why were words so difficult? Why did they carry so much weight? \n\n\"Want this... I want this to be... A thing. Like, an actual thing. Between you and I.\" He took a breathe, searching for a reaction, before rambling. \n\n\"If you want! If not, I understand... Professional relationship and all that...\" He said, bracing for the impact of a 'no'."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "To be fair, she probably would have been a nervous wreck as well in his position. She wasn't an authority figure for him, but she certainly was a coworker, to say the least. They both had equally as important positions in Astoria, so she didn't see it as a power play by either of them. \n\n\"Eric.\" She started, and turned a bit to look over her shoulder at him. \"You're freaking out.\" Angelica kept her tone soft, and her free hand reached to cup his face. A small smile graced her features, and she shifted fully to turn onto her back so she could see him better. \n\n\"Do you genuinely want a relationship, or are you saying that because you feel obligated? You owe me nothing, last night happened because we both wanted it to, if that's all you wanted that's allowed.\" With that, she gave a pause, letting him reevaluate his answer."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "The tone in her voice calmed him, but he was still a wreck. How someone decided he would be allowed to lead an army was beyond him right now. \"Yeah... I'm freaking out... Hah...\" Eric said, agreeing with her, meeting her eyes. \n\n\"I absolutely want to be with you.\" Eric said, after a breathe and a thought. \"I have always been interested in you, Angelica, it's just... I don't know, you just seemed unobtainable, I guess. I also didn't want to mess up our working relationship.\" Eric rambled on, laying down entirely the throbbing still there."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The 'absolutely' made her smile, and she felt her cheeks flush a bit though she tried to hide it. The woman cleared her throat, hoping it would help keep the blush away, but knowing damn well it wouldn't. \"Our working relationship will remain separate from anything that happens between us. Though, it's not as if we don't generally see eye to eye on those affairs anyway.\" She mused, and let her blue gaze move to the ceiling of the chambers they shared. The morning light was settling over the furniture, and she was certain they both needed to bathe. \n\nAfter a moment of silence she inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling, making their intertwined hands mimic the motion. \"Stop freaking out, It's tainting your afterglow.\" She told him, and turned her head once more to look his way, a genuine smile on her lips. She moved to kiss him properly, lingering a bit before pressing her forehead to his. \"We'll give it a go then, I certainly have had my eyes on you for a while.\" She mused, and pushed her fingers through his hair. \n\n\"Shall we get you something for your hangover?\""
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "The blush was the first sign that everything might be okay and gave him hope, the response was so uplifting he thought he'd gain wings. \"Of course.\" He said, agreeing with Angelica as she talked about the terms, not paying a lot of attention, his focus faded for a moment. That's a yes, he thought, a YES. It was indescribable how it felt, the only thing that brought him back to focus was the feeling of her on his lips and he snapped back into action and kissed her back for the lingering kiss. \n\nOnce it ended, he blinked, still not believing the events of the last several hours. \"So you've said, you watched me everywhere. And please, this headache is killing me.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Angelica gave a small laugh and nodded. He's kissed her back firmly, and that was all she needed to settle the matter for herself. The rest of the day would be a breeze, and she could finish her tasks without worry about a potentially damaged friendship and awkward sleeping arrangement with Stafford. In fact, she already couldn't wait to fall back into bed with him. \n\nThe blonde released his hand, and moved from her spot on the bed. Her trunk was across the room, and she moved to it to find some clothing that she could put on for the sake of an appearance to a servant. Once dressed, she pulled her hair over her shoulder, twirling it absently with her hand to try and tame the gentle wave of it before pulling the door open with the promise that she'd return shortly. \n\nIt wasn't Astoria, and she didn't expect to be able to ask for her meal in private like she did back home. But when she found a servant, and requested something be brought up to help the man's hangover, the woman offered to bring their breakfast up as well. It surprised her, but she happily accepted the offer. Before heading back, Angelica also requested a bath to be drawn, and headed back after the confirmation it would be ready within the hour."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric watched her walk away, his eyes glued to her, following her across the room, not able to get enough of her. When the door closed and she'd left, Eric rolled over and burrowed himself into a pillow and tried to think away the headache, it only got worse. He tried to sleep, but it didn't come for him. Getting dressed seemed like a difficult task and the idea of just laying in bed was far more appealing that getting out of bed. His mind raced, images of the previous night flashing in front of him. \n\nHe sat up and put his back to the headboard and looked around the room, then noticed something. Light was easily flooding the room through a window with opened curtains that looked directly to the bed. Summoning some willpower, Eric got out of bed and closed the curtains, then collapsed back into the bed, feeling better as there was no more light in his face."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "When she returned, Eric had closed the curtains and practically face planted into bed once more. She gave a small laugh, and moved to perch on the edge of the bed. Taking his hand, she pressed her thumb firmly into the meat of his hand, finding the pressure point and rolling over it firmly to help with the headache. \n\n\"You're going to have to learn how to hold your alcohol better, Stafford.\" She teased, and then let her gaze drift towards the door, waiting for the knock of the servant. \"I'll be spending the day networking with others in my position, hopefully I'll get some advice on the best way to get South Feyshore up and running better before the thaw. I _really_ want to see if we can manage to get a functioning court going between the newly appointed nobles. Check in with everyone, make sure they're maintaining their keeps to the standards we're hoping to build. Setting up some trading posts, supply routes if needed.\" She paused, her own mind still running a million miles a moment, and looked to the knock on the door. \n\nNow she was the one rambling. She released his hand, and pulled open the door, thanking the woman who carried in a tray for them and set it by the bedside. When she was done, she headed to the adjacent bathing room, and started working on Angelica's requested bath. The blonde returned to the bedside, and plucked the thick glass from the tray. It was filled with a yellow sludge, that from the sniff of it had to be an Islanders version of a hangover cure. It didn't look the best, but she passed it to Eric regardless. \"Good luck with that. Hold your nose.\" She suggested, making a face."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "\"I don't drink very often!\" Eric protested, before quieting to listen to Angelica do the hottest thing she could possibly do: She talked about government, trade, and supply routes. Listening intently, Eric felt almost normal with the relief from her applying pressure to his palm. \"The Stormalong ports are partially working, but crime is still a problem. And that's everywhere.\" Eric added in, he wanted Stormalong's ports to be fully operation soon to bringin all of the trade he can possibly bring in.\n\nAs soon as the door knocked, Eric made sure to cover himself to the chest in blankets when the servant came in. Th hangover cure looked horrible, but, he comforted himself in the idea he has probably eaten worse things and took it, grimancing when he smelled it. He pinched his nose and through his head back and down most of it as quickly as he could. When he sat forward and swallowed, a few small drops remained. Tilting his head and looking at Angelica, he said \"It's not that bad. Try it.\" He offered it to her, with a deathly serious expression painted on him."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "He started on the glass, and she'd released his hand to pluck a piece of toast from the tray, it was spread with a thick jam, and she couldn't quite tell what had been used to make it. He offered her the glass and she shook her head. \"Absolutely not.\" She told him, rejecting it with another firm bite of the toast she had. It left a smear of jelly on her top lip, and she licked it away easily. \n\nWhen his arm didn't lower, Angelica made a soft noise of annoyance before setting her toast aside and taking the glass. Because it was mostly empty, the sludge of yellow at the bottom would take a moment to get to the rim of the glass, and she tried to swirl it, though it didn't move. Her eyes moved to him, taking in his face and trying to decide if he was serious or not. Finally, she pinched her nose, and tilted the glass all the way back, letting the last of it roll down the side of the glass and into her waiting mouth."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "The sludge was not good in anyway shape or form, and Eroc broke out laughing and then groaning in pain just as it was too late for her to stop herself. \"Atleast your nose was pinched.\" He said through a satisfied grin as he waited to see her full reaction to the hangover cure she tried to poison him with."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "It was absolute filth, and she nearly gagged when it hit her tongue. She swallowed it down quickly, but it didn't mean it didn't linger on her senses. She set the glass aside, and shot him a dirty look before reaching for the tea kettle that accompanied their breakfast. She poured herself and _only_ herself a cup, and downed the hot liquid as it was to try and get the taste out. \n\n\"I changed my mind about wanting anything to do with you anymore. You're an evil man, Stafford.\" She muttered, and reached for her toast once more, though she was thoroughly turned off by the idea of eating anything anymore."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric couldn't wipe the grin off his face, \"Oh, you don't have a choice. You're stuck with me now.\" He said, sitting up and reaching for some food himself, aiming for toast. \"It definitely isn't the worst thing I've drank.\" He said, eating a piece of toast. \n\nHis appetite wasn't ruined at all and Eric began eating bits of his breakfast, more affected by the small hangover than he was by the horrible drink Angelica had brough him. The food was good, and he didn't usually eat in his bed but he didn't have to clean it so who cared?"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King nodded, signing off a blank page in his ledger and handing it off to Ollie. The secretary took the paper and ran it over to the blacksmith. The man, balding into his late forties took a knee before accepting it. \"Many fanks, yer Grace. I've just fought dat tha townsguard in Tha Stilts needed new weaponry as is. It would be an honor to manufacture some for you.\"\n\nBradai Maith gave a nod, \"You'll get tha shipment uff steel from Equadia wiffin a week. You will be provi—\"\n\n\"No, please, your Grace. To keep my family and I safe and wiff you supplying tha materials? It's nuff—\"\n\nThe Pirate King raised a hand and nodded. He wouldn't reject the offer to save a few coins. \"Very well. Fank you again, Fingin.\" The Blacksmith was dismissed. \n\nThe Pirate King leaned over his desk, looking to the doorway. \"Grab tha next one, will you?\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "The meeting with Maith hadn't gone at all how she'd expected. The idea of sending Mikhail away wasn't a pleasant one. After all, he was only a child still, and he'd never traveled anywhere alone except the Isles. She's expected to have to talk Maith out of it all together, not to have to find a reason why she shouldn't go with. Her council could handle things on their own for now. It was slow back home, and would be until the first thaw. They could go to Azarya, take the help of Bradai's reinforcements in Astoria, and be home in time for spring. But something about it didn't sit right. She didn't distrust Bradai, but she couldn't help but feel like he was planning something and not telling her. And when those plans involved Mikhail, she wasn't a fan of secrets. \n\nShe'd retired to her chambers, but after an hour or so she was greeted with a soft knock on the door. It opened to reveal one of Maith's gatesmen, who stood taller than herself by at least a foot. \n\n\"Pardon, your Highness. The Alchemist is here to see you.\" He explained the reason for his arrival, and she nodded. \n\n\"Can you procure a parlor for us to use? Preferably one not on the main floor, I don't want our conversation accidentally being overheard by foot traffic.\" She said, standing and pushing her hands through her curls to tame them. He nodded, and said he'd send for a guide as soon as he had them both secured before going to retrieve the alchemist. \n\nA few moments passed before she was summoned, and she followed the guide to the third floor, and into a parlor to await the arrival of the guest.\n\nThe gate guard returned from inside the castle, calling for the alchemists presence. \"Your audience has been requested.\" The guard says as he gestures Danico inside, the alchemist obliging after allowing the other guards to show his horse and carriage where to stand until he returns. The alchemist eagerly follows the gate guard inside- a man like him was rarely asked to enter castles. Shady men like rarely are, so he relished the moment, examining all of the castles interior rooms and decorations the best he could. It was certainly as grand as he had thought it would be, going off the few castle interiors he had the pleasure of seeing previously. \n\n\"Follow me and don't wander off. This is a rare occasion to be summoned directly by-\" The gate guard's sentence is interrupted by the alchemist, talking suddenly over the top of the guard, muffled somewhat by his mask.\n\n\"I am aware of the situation, guard.\" He snaps suddenly. If there was anything that annoyed him, it was people questioning his intelligence. Usually the opinions of others wouldn't bother him, as he likes to make clear constantly, but he was also proud of his work, almost to a fault, which sometimes shows. \"Please just take me to the where I need to go. No need for the formalities I assure you.\" The guard gave Danico a stern look before sighing and continuing on. Had this been any normal person he probably could have narked up and made a scene, but given this was the Duchesses personal guest that couldn't end any way but bad for him. \n\nEventually they arrived at the parlor hall, the guard waited outside while Danico made his way in. He didn't say anything as the doors closed behind them, staying silent until he was close enough for the duchess to hear him clearly from behind his mask, watching her the entire time. \"Your Duchess.\" He says with a bow. An unusual action for the alchemist- bowing to royalty was usually just a way yo appease their pride, but he was prepared to \"Kiss ass\" As it were, to ensure he gets the reward he's promised\n\nAnyanka didn't quite know what to think of the man who was brought into the room with her. The mask he wore was unsettling to say the least, but she remained still as he approached. When be bowed, her brow rose a bit in question. \"Please, Danico. You may call me Anya, and you don't need to subjugate yourself to me.\" She told him. After all, she had been the one to summon him this far. The way she saw it, this was a business transaction, and no one was to be subjugated if they both were to uphold their end of the negotiation. \n\n\"I hope your travels were well, sometimes the waters in the Isles get a bit choppy this time of year.\" She gestured to the chair across from her, and ran her tongue over her lips to wet them. \"Please, have a seat. Is the mask a requirement for this consultation?\"\n\n\"Secrets rarely lead to positive outcomes, miss Durkhan.\" He inserts as an observation, looking around the room a little, observing its decoration out of pure curiosity before returning his gaze to the other across form him. \"I am not interested in money, Duchess.\" He replies in an almost snapping tone in reply to her mention of compensation. \"If I'm to be compensated for work then we shall discuss it now. I don't want your coin and I'll get by without it. What else do you have to offer that I might see of use?\" Danico leans back onto the table, meshing his fingers together once more as he looks dead into the eyes of the duchess. \n\n\"And if the boy wishes to stop then I shall stop if I can, but I cannot guarantee it won't hurt. One's body isn't just ripped from near existence on a whim. It takes a complicated ritual to get to that point, not including everything required to set it up. One thing I can guarantee is that it won't be pleasant. Even if everything goes smoothly odds are he is to feel a magical sickness as a natural side effect. You cannot tamper with the fabric of life without consequence, after all.\"\n\n\"I feel it's easier for you to name a price point, Danico. We've agreed on the outcome of a successful procedure, though I'd prefer you be the one to help my boy, I understand the possibility of it not happening is high, just because of the nature of the request.\" She didn't shy away from his gaze, and when he continued on about how this would happen she admittedly felt a bit squeamish. \n\n\"Do you feel it's genuinely something you're capable of?\" She asked, her voice softening. \"I don't want to get his hopes up-\" If he was even still currently capable of hope \"Only to have them crushed and his body aching.\"\n\n\"It is a complicated process, one that takes time and effort to complete. Depending on the severity of his condition it could take anywhere from one night to weeks. But you don't need to question my ability, if you do not possess the correct facilities for the task here, however, then it will have to happen at my lab in Azarya, but either way I can do it.\" \nDanico paused for a moment in thought before turning to his satchel, pulling out a piece of parchment with a detailed drawing of an owl-griffin, sliding it across as far as he can towards the duchess. \"That spider?\" He says in reference to payment. \"On the way here I came into some information on the whereabouts of an owl-griffin kitten in south-feyshore. Although that spider is particularly of interest to me, I have most certainly done less for more.\" He places his hands back down on the table as he sits back down. \"So I've changed my price. I want you to send a tracker to bring me that owl-griffin kitten. I've heard the mother was hurt, so it should be no problem for a professional in that field of work. And, if your boy cannot be saved, then I shall settle for less.\"\n\nShe reached forward, taking the drawing that was passed and examining it. She'd heard mention of it, but never seen one herself. \"The kitten if you're successful, the spider if you're not.\" She told him, settling on the payment options. They'd already gone through the work in securing the spider for payment, and she certainly didn't want that thing in her keep any longer than it had to be. She wasn't a fan of arachnids. \n\n\"We don't have the tools here, You'll have to preform the process in Azarya. We'll be headed that way anyway, and hopefully we can detour to your lab before meeting with the man Bradai set us up with.\" Anyanka paused, and held the drawing back out to him. \"Would you like to meet Mikhail?\"\n\n\"Good enough for me.\" He says bluntly, satisfied with the outcome, relaxing a little into the chair as the deal had been finalized, it had certainly turned out a lot better than he had originally intended, and if it he cannot help the child, he would simply send for someone himself- as much of a hassle as that would be. \"It's settled then.\" He continues, \"Will you be accompanying myself, or will you be making your own way there?\" He takes the picture of the griffin and places it back in his satchel, sitting up straight in his chair. \n\n\"A question before I do, though.\" He interjects with a raised hand to interrupt her. \"Does the pirate king know about our deal? You must understand that I would be put into an awkward situation if he was to find out that his son's mother went behind his back, taking the trust he had in his decision and putting it on me.\"\n\n\"Maith doesn't know. We've yet to genuinely be able to speak on the matter, considering the festival and his obligations as host. I intended to tell him I'd summoned you when I was granted a private meeting with him, that time just hasn't come yet. He asked me to accompany Mikhail to Azarya. But at the end of the day, it's not about trust in his decision or mine, it's about Mikhail being healed, and I think we both don't care who manages, just so long as it's done as painlessly as possible and done correctly.\"\n\n\"So long as any pain caused to the boy as part of the process does not have the blame thrown on me.\" He stands from his chair in preparation to meet the boy, composing himself and fixing his bag to the side. \"Sure, bring him in. I want to get an accurate reading of his condition so I can begin writing down the ingredients. It should all be available at the college, but you cannot make too sure.\" He reaches back into his satchel and pulls out a black leather-bound notebook and his alchemists quill, ready to do an assessment on his to-be subject."
},
{
"author": "zaxxar",
"message": "A gaunt man was brought into the hall. His skin was fairer than most, and had he not been walking, you might have guessed he was dead. Upon seeing the Pirate king, he lowered his head, as personal pride would not allow him to do so. When the guards loosed their hold upon his skeletal being, he dropped to his knees and fell forward. The loud *Smack!* Against the ground stimulated the boy's senses, and he took in a very audible inhale that sounded almost as if he hadn't taken a breath in hours. \n\n\"My l-lor-\" A few seconds of coughing interrupted Manfred. \"M-my village, sire. It is... It is nearly gone. The s-soil doesn't grow crops anymore, a-and the fish have all but gone. I beg of you, sire, help what remains of my people.\""
}
] | 216 | 5,956 |
179.571429 | 2018-12-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Bradai's first reaction was that the boy was faking it. It was a horrendous display, to be sure, but it was one that instinctively inspired pity. He didn't trust it. He didn't hide his concern as he ushered two of his men to get the boy up to his feet.\n\n\"Get vhis boy some water n' food. Somefing light. I...\" He turned his attention to his notebook, taking his quill and making notes of the visitor. \"Where are you from, boy? Why 'ave vhey sent you?\""
},
{
"author": "zaxxar",
"message": "He lifted his eyes away from the ground to match the gaze of the Pirate King. He picked himself up and stood on shaky legs. \"My village is to the north, s-sire. I can't read nor write, so I could not tell you its name. The rest of my people are either sick or dead, sire, and I fear for them greatly.\" He shut his mouth and once again lowered his gaze to the floor."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka once more found her lips pursed. She didn't know yet if she trusted any of this, and she certainly didn't trust _anyone_ with Mikhail anymore besides herself and Bradai. The redhead stood, moving towards the door as he reached into his bag to pull out a notebook and quill. Stopping before the door, she pushed it open a crack, and asked the guard at the door to summon her son. Mikhail was in the library, as he normally found himself, and arrived quickly. He paused at the door, looking to his mother then the guard, and stepped into the room. \n\nWhen she'd first seen him when she arrived, he had been excited. Now that the excitement had faded, and he was back to his 'routine' of his life in the Isles, she could tell the difference. He walked heavily on one foot more than the other, and the tired look in his eyes was more glossy than exhausted at this point. He entered the room and stood with his hands at his side by the table they had been discussing around. \n\n\"Mikhail, I know you've spoken to King Maith about a necromancer in Azarya-\"\n\n\"But you've brought your own.\" Mikhail finished, and turned his gaze to Danico. What had once been a shining silver was now a murky grey gaze, and he almost regarded the man with a bored expression. \"Are you here to heal me, mister Danico?\" He asked, and Anya blinked. \n\n\"How did you know his name, Mikhail?\" \n\nAs answer, the boy gave a shrug, his attention not moving from the man before him."
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Danico turned his gaze to the boy as he entered, raising a brow at his obvious condition- pale skin, red-tinged eye lids, he even noticed the glossy eyes as Mikhail turned his gaze back at the Alchemist. *Intriguing* He thought to himself, finding himself to be fascinated by the boy's general state. He had seen living corpses before, even summoned one or two himself, but there was something fundamentally different about a child who was not dead, but not alive either. Still, the politics of a child un-dead was not a topic he thought himself getting into, so he instead walked over to the boy, examining his skin closely before opening his notebook to a blank page, writing down the condition of his skin, his hair, and eyes at first glance. \n\nOnce he had finished writing, he put the book down on the table and pushed the goggles back down over his eyes, adjusting the smaller lenses to best suit taking a close look at detail. \"So how *Did* You know my name?\" He says somewhat quietly as he concentrates, not even asking the boy for permission as he pushes a thumb onto the boys eyelid, lifting it up so he could take a closer look at his eye, taking in every detail before doing the same to the other. He then moves to the boys nose and pushes the tip side to side- *\"No decomposition of the septum..\"* He says quietly to himself before finally using his thumb again to push the boys lips back in the corner, examining his teeth. \n\nDanico goes back to his book and writes down everything he had examined, turning his back to the boy. \"By the way, child.\" He says through muffled mask \"I'm not a necromancer, nor am I a magician.-\" He turns back to the boy as he talks- \"Necromancers typically summon spirits and raise the dead for ill purposes, but you can rest assured I'll have none of that.\" Danico pushes the goggles back up off of his eyes, taking a look at him once more without the super-focused lenses."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The man moved across the room to him, and without asking placed his thumb on Mikhail's eyelid. The boy flinched, and jerked his head to the side before the impulse died, and he stood completely still for the rest of the alchemists examination. When he was finished, a hand moved to his nose, finding it now tickled after the touch. \n\n\"I saw you come in with the guard. Not soon after I saw my mother lead to the same room, so I asked the gateguard your name.\" He explained, his voice flat as he spoke. \"I am not a magician either, mister Danico. I'm just observant.\" He turned his head, his chopped blonde locks moving with the motion as he looked to his mother. \n\n\"So does this mean we're not going to Azarya?\" He asked, and Anya made a face as to say 'not exactly'. \n\n\"We are, but Danico will be traveling with us, in case Bradai's man can't help you, he's here to double our chances of success.\" \n\nMikhail tilted his head a bit, and looked back to Danico. \"And what exactly defines your success?\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Danico let out a soft chuckle at the boys mention of magicians. \"We are the same then, you and I\" He continues as he takes his gloves off, placing them down on the table. \"Can you please lift your shirt for me?\" Danico requests after Mikhail had asked about Azarya, squatting down to meet the boys level. \"I am an alchemist, a man of study.\" He continues as he look up at Mikhail's eyes. \"It is my job to understand these kinds of things. I understand necromancy and how it works, and by extension, how to perform it.\" He looks back over at Durkhan momentarily before looking back to the boy. \"And well, someone like your mother would be wise to place their trust in someone who has no biased notion on the use of black magic and necromancy. For me, it is merely a tool, you could say. Much like how reading a book is a tool to learn, necromancy is a tool for me to learn.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail didn't oblige immediately, and instead watched as the man crouched before him. He exhaled, though the movement barely caused his chest to rise or fall, and he moved to raise the hem of his shirt for the man. \n\nFor the first time since his burial, Anya saw the wounds that had caused this whole affair. Four white scars on his chest. A pure white that even the snows in the Witherlands couldn't match. Amalthea had struck true when she'd run the blade through him, but the others were for good measure it seemed. Anyanka paled, and had to lower herself into her seat, her hand moving to cover her lips to keep herself from saying anything as the two conversed. \n\n\"So you measure your success in learning something.\" Mikhail stayed still, and his head tilted once more. \"By those standards, you'd consider learning that your practices were fatal a success. A creature like myself can't stand up to _this_ type of experiment, or _that_ type of magic. Surely you'd find more use in examining my corpse than what I am now.\" \n\n\"Mikhail.\" Anya spoke, her voice firm. \"Please, we're trying to help you.\" \n\n\"You're wasting your time, mother.\" He sighed, and released the hem of his shirt without asking Danico if he was finished with whatever he had wanted to examine. \"This man can't save me.\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Danico was certainly taken aback by the large scars left on his chest, he didn't know how the boy had gotten to this state, but this certainly helped paint a picture. Danico just prodded at the boys chest and stomach, watching for any reaction he might give before returning his hands to his lap. \n\n\"No no, it's okay\" He says to Anya as he rises once more. \"I don't measure my success by what I learn. Success *Is* Defined by the outcome. If I learn something, then good. I've learned something, but I didn't agree to take this request based on the possibility of learning alone. I'm not here to poke and prod you with with strange and unknown materials to see what reaction I can get from you. I'm here to help you because it is my job.\" He turns back to his book and starts writing down the things he had examined before writing down a couple extra bits. \"Look-\" He says before turning and squatting to his level once more. \"You're clearly a smart kid, I can tell. Hell, I was just like you once upon a time. But this-\" He points to the kids body, referencing his condition \"This isn't going to get better on it's own. So I can't force you to let me help you, but you've a better chance with me then some hack necromancer with an agenda.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Mikhail straightened when Danico prodded at his chest, and only winced when he came close to the scars. Danico turned to jot something down, and the blonde boy furrowed his brow, smoothing his hands over his shirt before Danico turned once more to address him. Something about it was reassuring, but he wasn't letting himself get fooled. He'd trusted his mother, his aunt, his father, and the poppies; and yet he still ended up in a tomb. Some stranger with a mask wasn't going to change his mind into thinking he would be _safe_.\n\n\"You say that as if you've got an idea as to how to help me. And yet you haven't asked what symptoms come with this. Does that mean you've seem someone like me before?\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "\"I've seen plenty of people like you.\" He says, looking into the eyes of the boy, a white lie wouldn't hurt, after all. \"You feel tired all of the time but you cannot sleep, you're always hungry but never satisfied, you find yourself occasionally feeling rather clumsy for no apparent reason.\" He stands and pulls the chair on the end of the table out for the boy before sitting down on one next to it, gesturing for him to take a seat. \"You know you love your mother, but you are unable to feel that emotion.\" As he mentions that last line, he focuses in on the boys eyes, speaking directly to *Him*, not just at him. \"Am I wrong?\" He questions, fully aware of the territory he's treading, if this was the kind of un-death he was thinking of, then he knew exactly what must be done, and conversely, if it's not, he also knew what must be done- either un-death in body or un-death in spirit. Each one with it's own unique set of symptoms."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King leaned over the desk that had been placed before his throne and looked the boy over. \"Is vhere anyfing you need right now? You look close to deaff. 'ow far 'ave you traveled?\" Bradai Maith was hardly ever confounded by anything. This was absolutely out of the ordinary. How long had he been waiting in line? Who would send this boy this far? Why was _he_ the one to receive the visitor? Surely the boy had another leader to speak of. This entire experience had taken him off his guard. \"What's your name, boy?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "The masked man started to list off symptoms, and his shoulders relaxed, a bit surprised at how the man was describing all the things he was feeling. Well, feeling wasn't the word. _Experiencing_ was. At mention of his mother, the boy turned to look at her, and was met with concerned eyes. \"No, you're exactly right.\" Mikhail answered, and looked back to him.\n\n\"So if you've met others like me, you know how to fix this? I haven't felt a thing since-\" He paused, trying to recall the last time he'd felt normal. \"Well, since Wingsway. I felt okay for a while, genuinely _felt_ in Vivayn's keep. When we left it just got worse.\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "\"Indeed\" Danico says in response to Mikhail's question, glancing over at the duchess's pale face. \"Unfortunately, as I'm sure you're already aware, though, we will need to head to my Lab in Azarya to be able to continue.\" Glancing back at Mikhail, he takes the book and places it back in his pouch, as well as the alchemists quill. \"Tell me, Mikhail-\" He starts, giving the boy a curious glance \"Are you interested in strange creatures?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "\"Very much so.\" Mikhail answered, and Anya stood. The conversation had made her uneasy, and she was very much aware that she was about to find herself without a choice anymore. She'd have to accompany Mikhail to Azarya. No one else could be trusted with this, Bradai was correct in that. Her hand found his shoulder, the good one, and she squeezed a bit. \n\n\"Danico before we can depart we will need to make some preparations. I will have to return to Astoria, inform my council of the decision. I'll need at least a week to return home, prepare, and get back to the Isles. In that time, I'll be more than happy to set up accommodations for yourself in the Isles.\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "\"Then I'm sure this trip won't be so bad for you. I've plenty at my lab that I'm sure you'll find of interest.\" Danico stood too, adjusting his satchel and pulling down his shirt. \"I appreciate the offer, Duchess, but I have other matters to attend to in South Feyshore. I was going to make a quick stop on the way past, but since you've got some time to prepare, I shall go attend to that and wait for you in Astoria, if it would please you?\" He adjusts his shirt and jacket, making sure he has everything needed and not missing anything. \"Is there anything else you would like to ask, Mikhail?\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka nodded. She didn't mind if Danico traveled to South Feyshore and met her in Astoria. Mikhail, however, was a different story. She looked to him. \n\n\"Will you be joining me on-\" She paused, thinking better of it. Mikhail's mind was already turning that way as well, and they gave each other a look of mutual understanding. \n\n\"A trade ship. From the Isles to South Feyshore, I'll send \n\n\"I'll be waiting.\" He confirmed, and looked to Danico. \"I look forward to the possibilities of this journey, mister Danico.\" He told the man, and with a nod, took his leave."
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Not entirely sure what the two were thinking, he decided against asking just in case it was personal. \"I look forward to meeting you then, Miss Durkhan, and you too, Mikhail.\" Giving the boy a nod back as he takes his leave. \"I will send ahead of time for food and drink to be prepared for our arrival. If nothing else, I at least want the boy to be comfortable. I also suggest you advise him of the possible dangers ahead of time. It is important to remember that although I *Can* Do this, I cannot guarantee it will be painless.\" He stands with his arms crossed, watching the duchess from his position, ready to make his leave as soon as they're done."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Anyanka watched as Mikhail left, and a sickly feeling overtook her as she pressed her fingers into her temple, the other arm crossing over her stomach. \"I'll talk to him as soon as he's arrived in Astoria. I don't want to go about filling his mind with things that he doesn't need to worry about right now. He's already agreed to the trip, whatever dangers it might hold have yet to be determined, but I want him to at least come home.\" She mused, and lowered her hand from her temple, offering it to the man. \n\n\"Thank you for meeting with me, Danico.\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Danico nodded to the Duchess as he took her hand, giving it a solid shake. \"It's better to prepare him than for him to be thrusted into pain, confused and unaware.\" He stepped away from the Duchess, taking a deep breath once again, puffing thick plumes of smoke out the side of his mask once more. \"I'm just doing my job, Duchess.\" He continues as he steps up to the door. \"I look forward to getting my hands on that Owl-griffin kitten. Don't forget the deal.\" Danico nods once more as he steps outside the room, walking off into the hall as the guard follows along, watching him as he leaves."
},
{
"author": "zaxxar",
"message": "\"M-manfred, sire. My name is Manfred.\" He returned to being on his knees, even the act of standing was too tall a task for him. His breathing turned heavy as he knelt. His vision started to fade, slowly getting darker, darker, and ever darker until he feinted in the hall of the pirate king. A little more than a *Thud* Could be heard as he collapsed."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"I...\" He watched the boy fall, crumpling into a emaciated heap. \"Send 'im to tha Infirmary.\" He sighed, running a hand over his face. \"Send for tha nurses to look after 'im.\" \n\n\"Next!\""
}
] | 149 | 3,771 |
113.25 | 2018-12-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "When Manfred would awake, he would awake in a bed with crisp white sheets, the same kind that matched the plain white gown he had been given on his arrival. To his right and left, similar beds lined the room, around 20 in total. He would notice that the room had some other residents, placed in beds too far away from him to speak to directly. Some nurses walked around the room idly, tending to some guards that had become sun poisoned or dehydrated during the festival. The room was bathed in warmth, floor to ceiling windows letting in beams of soft white light. A nurse, occupied with a push cart traveled down the center of the room, her head turning idly to catch a glance at each of the infirmed. She would catch Manfred stirring, and shout it out to the rest of the room in a nonchalant tone and continue on her way. \n\nA woman would soon be at Manfred's side, holding a pitcher of water. \"Ello dere, son.\" She was matronly enough, warm brown skin and hair to match. She wasn't old, but her continence held a kind of indomitable wisdom, tired eyes and smile lines to match. \"Manfred?\""
},
{
"author": "zaxxar",
"message": "Manfred took a moment to fully wake. He rubbed his eyes which were not as bloodshot as they used to be. His breathing was stable. Manfred leaned up in his ben, using the wall to support his back.\n\n\"Wha- y-yes?\" His words were slightly slurred as the effects of deep sleep hadn't quite worn off."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"Do you know where you are?\" She took the cup on the nightstand and filled it with water. Ice clinked against the sides of the vase. \"You came to seek council wit ta King. You feinted, love. Are you alright? Anyting brottering you?\""
},
{
"author": "zaxxar",
"message": "\"I remember that much, thank you...\" He trailed off as he got a good look at his corpse of a body. His arms looked like toothpicks, and he count count his ribs if he wanted to. \"I suppose something to eat would be nice...\" He clenched his empty stomach and winced. \"Thank you.\""
}
] | 69.5 | 453 |
139.666667 | 2019-01-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "greekgod7274",
"message": "*Marius Va Dori walked down the gangway of his ship onto the ground of Tonate. As the crew yelled out commands and kept the ship steady, Marius and a few guards walked down the streets of the city and headed toward the Maith Mansion. As he approaches the gates a guard comes out and asks who he is. Marius explains who he is and enters the Mansion. As he waits in the front hall, he feels his pocket and makes sure that the letter inviting him there is tucked away. This was an exciting day for him, as the Bradai Maith Trading Company and the Va Dori Trading Company had many similar interests and would be good allies, hopefully.*"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King had been hearing from his subjects all day, hearing requests from beggars and bandits alike. His eyes glanced over the long list of visitors that had piled up at the gates, and he was pleased to see the next name on the list. Marius Va Dori. \n He had sent an invitation some weeks ago, and the fact that the Araedian had finally gotten back to him was a welcome surprise. \"Next.\" He said, and two of his men went to go and retrieve the merchant."
},
{
"author": "greekgod7274",
"message": "Marius walked with the guards and approached the King. When he was a reasonable distance away, he bowed and smiled at the king. \"Hello, Your Majesty, a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Marius Va Dori, if you recall you invited me here a few weeks ago to discuss business, I sailed here in hopes of doing just that. I have heard great things about you and am honoured to even be considered to do business with you.\" Marius didn't mind having to suck up a little, especially with a man like this. Best to smile in their face and stab them in the back. Of course, Marius wouldn't likely be able to do that with this man, Marius wasn't that stupid. Besides, there would be no need too, Marius could use the Pirate King and it seemed the Pirate King could use him."
}
] | 139 | 419 |
145.666667 | 2019-02-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King pursed his lips, looking over the Araedian merchant. The was a long silence in the room, only ended when the Pirate King began to speak. \"...Before you tell me what I am and am not _certainly knowledgeable_ in, Mr. Va Dori, I suggest vhat you take a look at the palace you're standing in. Vhese floors windows did not drop from tha sky, vhey were built by my 'ands. Shitblood 'ands. We learned forged vhis fucking land to our liking and tamed tha seas.\" Bradai crossed his arms and leaned back onto his throne. \"You 'ave about twenty seconds to explain why I should waste my fuckin' time, mate. Because no amount of cheese and wine will ever allow me to break bread wiff some Noble lord who finks vhey can talk down to me.\""
},
{
"author": "greekgod7274",
"message": "\"It's quite simple, sir, I'm a man willing to do *Anything* To get more wealth, which I'm sure you can relate too. All I require from you, is you give the goods you acquire to me and allow me too sell them for you, with us splitting the profits 70/30. In time I may require the use of some of your men to aid me, which is something to discuss another time.\" Marius smiles to the king. \"Honestly, I just want to help you trade on the mainland and save up some goodwill and a favour for a later date.\" Marius pauses. \"And I meant no offense, but to the best of my knowledge your men are skilled pirates and craftsmen, not traders.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"I run one of the largest trading companies in the Souvhern world.\" He clasped his hands and gave a small, sympathetic smile. \"I take seventy five, and I want seven of my men in every fuckin' caravan. I assume you 'ave your own men to look after your fings. Mine will do tha talking and making sure vhat yours stay in line. You will not skim, or scam, or raise prices. Vhey will assure vhat it gets to where it needs to go. And, if you provide useful to me, I'd be 'appy to provide some men towards a future escapade. Vhat will 'ave to be discussed wiff me, personally. If I find out vhat you're ordering my men around, providing some instruction vhat does not come directly from my mouff, I will send a letter to my men, you will be brought 'ere, and I will extract my division uff payment on your _fingers_. I will take seventy five percent uff vhem. You can keep your fumbs. I'll give you your choice in the 'alf.\" Bradai Maith reached down and opened a drawer, extracting a stack of parchment. After filling in some of the pertinent information, he motioned for Marius to come forwards. \"I 'ave filled in my parameters. Write your name everywhere vhere is a line, sign at vha bottom, mate.\""
},
{
"author": "greekgod7274",
"message": "Marius nods happily and reads over the terms, checking all is proper, before signing. \"I look forward to our friendship. I will not order your men anymore than to instruct them on the intricacies of local trade, such as who to bribe and what to pay for things.\" Marius hands back the parchment and nods his head. \"Other than that, the terms please me.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"Yeah.\" He nodded back, \"I'm sure it does.\" The Pirate King folded it three times and placed the neat rectangle into a basket on the left corner of his desk. \"Forthright wiff Foresight, Mr. Va Dori. I 'ope to receive a letter in some time when you've set fings up for my men's arrival. The Bradai Maiff Trading Company will send a ship around for a short test run uff your system. We look forward to what will be an undoubtedly prosperous career as a newly minted transporter of our wares, yeah?\" He promptly went back to the papers on his desk, signaling for Marius to leave and for the next one of his subjects to enter."
},
{
"author": "greekgod7274",
"message": "\"Of course, thank you for meeting my, Your Highness.\" Marius bows and exits."
}
] | 150.5 | 874 |
125.75 | 2019-02-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan Astorio, the famous bard from Sol, had a hangover. The previous night was a jumble of missing memories and awful tastes in his mouth. He sat alone at a table, his normally ostentatious garbs were covered by a large, purple cloak. He looked around the tavern, his eyes aching and his ears pounding,s he clutched a cup of tea. He saw a group of men, all of them barrel-chested and bearded, singing merrily and drinking heavily. The previous night Yohan was like to join them in their merriment, but now he could barely tolerate the noise coming from them. He placed his hand on his temples, and rubbed them slightly. Just then, someone walked inside."
},
{
"author": "wildhillman",
"message": "And that someone was... Interesting to say the least. Not in the 'oh look at him, he's so cool' kind of interesting but the 'who the fuck is that' kind of way. He wore what looked to be normal villager clothes underneath what was clearly a rather old iron cuirass, a shield prominent on his right arm and a sword at his hip. God and an Old Sea Dog only knows why he's here but it seemed like he was scanning the room for something. His target, one of the louder pirates that was failing to regale an uninterested woman of a tale about him dealing with an 'evil imp of a monkey', was soon spotted before the Hardin seemed to sigh, straighten his back and marched his way over. He walked pass Yohan's table with a light grumble as one might catch him say, 'Just one hit and that ought to do it'. Seemed something quite interesting was about to happen.."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan looked up at the man with a face of confusion and exasperation, and called out \"Excuse me, but what did you say, sir?\" He straightened up as he talked, and shook the cloak off of him, revealing a white shirt with ruffles at his wrists, and a long, multicolored coat, with various purples, pinks, and reds in the patchwork. He was a skinny man, compared to the other patrons at least, and looked sickly, probably thanks to the blinding hangover. He stood up, leaning up on the table for support, as he looked at the man expectantly."
},
{
"author": "wildhillman",
"message": "Randall was just halfway to the annoying pirate's table before Yohan's voice snapped him out of his focus, causing the blue eyed man to look back towards the bard. \"Uh, what? You say something to me, stranger?\" From the voice, he was certainly not exactly a local to this town. It was more 'village bumpkin/country man' than 'salty pirate' to be fair. Meanwhile, in the background, our dear Sparrow gets a nice, quick slap from the serving woman... Nice."
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan blinked a few times, and pointed a finger at Randall. \"Indeed I did. I heard you mutter something as you walked past, and I'd like to know if it was meant for me, and if so, what it was.\" Yohan heard the slap coming from the serving woman, and looked past Randall, seeing the situation. He gave a small smirk, wishing she'd do the same to all the other obnoxious men in the room."
},
{
"author": "wildhillman",
"message": "\"No sir, it wasn't directed to you, I just... Uh... Have a job I *Really* Need to finish. I'd rather not have a debt like a certain man in this tavern.\" The odd man gave a casual gesture back to Barbosa Sparrow, who at the moment was rubbing his cheek before he noticed the 'stranger' glancing back to him and pointing. Just what was that lubber doin', aye?"
},
{
"author": "salmonbarry",
"message": "Yohan, realizing his error, nodded his head, and motioned for Randall to move along. \"Then by all means, please continue what you were doing.\" He sat back in his chair, suddenly feeling less gross and tired than he was just a few moments before. He kicked his feet up on the table, and sipped his tea, clearing his mind, as he watched Randall."
},
{
"author": "wildhillman",
"message": "Randall smiled to Yohan and gave a nod himself before he turned to BS's table, saying, \"Don't mind if I do, good sir.\" Speaking of BS, mister Barbosa Sparrow watched on in confusion as Randall marched right on over to the table. \"Oi, what do ye think ya doin' there lad? Walkin' ta me like ye own the place. You know who I am, lad? I am the GREAT Barbosa Sparrow and I DEMAND RESP-,\" And it was about that moment that Randall reared back his hand and PIMP SLAPPED the pirate, right in front of everyone. It would hit so hard and sudden, the surprised pirate would flop backwards out of his seat."
}
] | 121.5 | 1,006 |
301 | 2019-02-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern\n\nThere wasn't a thing about The Southern Isles that the Prince didn't like. The climate, the women, and the fact that no one seemed to care who he was. His first taste of the land came when he was just 14 years old. He accompanied his Father's adviser on a trading operation that lasted three days. On the third day, the ship left without the Prince because he had simply vanished under the cover of night. His guards searched the island for him for about a week before he turned up drunk in a tavern, and about five seconds from getting the noble blood spilled all over the dirty floor because he spent a small fortune on women and alcohol. He didn't realize his pockets were empty until it was much too late. He ended up walking away with a black eye, a small chunk of his hair missing, and a busted lip. The guards paid his debt and brought him home where they were repaid and then some by the Duke himself (for their silence). Brandon smiled every time he got a glimpse of himself with that black eye, and he would have many more as he learned the ways of pirates over the next 8 years.\n\nHe was given a ship for his 17th birthday (after he spent three years training to not get his ass kicked so easily, vanishing on more excursions for longer periods of time, and learning how to actually captain a ship.) His ship (named Isobel after his mother) was to be used for trading business only so of course he staffed it with Terresolian pirates, lowlifes, and criminals looking to get out of the Kingdom or face the rope. They did very little actual trading, well for Erba anyway, and an average journey lasted well over 3 months.\n\nHe'd been on Zulprisa Island about that long when the fight broke out. It wasn't abnormal, fighting in a pirate tavern was just a part of the scenery and enjoyed by all. Bran was with a few members of his crew when Barbosa rolled across the floor. Bran laughed shortly then quieted down with everyone else to hear the exchange between the two of them. When the laughter erupted, he was among the voices. It wasn't everyday a fight ended with a man scurrying away like he was about to go tell his Mother.\n\nBran picked up his pitcher of ale then made his way over to the group. He didn't usually flaunt his wealth, that was just survival, but he had to do something for the spectacular performance he'd just witnessed. He placed the pitcher on the table hard, but the slam was lost in all the activity in the room. \"That one's for you. I've got another one coming,\" He said before he picked up Sparrow's old chair to take a seat at the table. He still had his own cup partially filled. He raised it to Randall, \"May I never owe you a debt, but always be around to see you collect.\""
},
{
"author": "wildhillman",
"message": "Randall Hardin, Mercenary\nZulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern\n\n When Bran walked over, Randall was busying himself with cleaning off his knuckles after the very one-sided scuffle with the lovely BS pirate... Swear on his mother that's the dude's initials and that is *Glorious*. Hell, a few pirates near the merc were cracking *Jokes* About it. \"Guess BS *Stank* As a pirate, eh,\" One hefty, tattooed man boisterously joked as he elbowed Randall's armored side (he still wore his old, iron cuirass and shield after all) while other folks cracked similar, awful jokes as he just laughed alongside them. At least he apparently made a good first impression in town! Not many could ever hope to bust a man's nose and get *Praise* For it. Or apparently ale, as Bran would soon appear and offer the pitcher as the Hardin was soon encouraged to sit and drink with the others. \"Oh, wow! Thank ya very much!\" Randall then poured himself a good amount while the other pirates gave various calls of 'aye!' after Bran's quick toast. \"Oh, I can probably drink to that,\" The Pirate Puncher said with a light smile as he lifted his drink to Bran and took a mighty gulp. Today just got a *Hell* Of a lot better."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Bert Potter, Innkeeper\nZulprisa Island, \"The Armed Seahorse\" Tavern\n\nMorning's light broke into Bert's room, waking him up immediately - it was time to open the inn for the customers and the workers alike. He sprung up, quickly went through his short morning's routine and headed toward the door, unlocking it to see a couple of musicians already waiting around outside. \n\n\"Good morning.\" His cheerful voice rang out, greeting the two as they came in. \"The customers are not in yet, so just come along, settle down. Pay is about.. Five silver crowns per hour starting from when people come in.\" He explained while heading for the backdoor to let his hirelings into the inn as well.\n\nSoon enough, the building starts to fill up with early birds and some patrons: the drunk and the weary, criminals and guards alike - they all came in for a drink and some grub..."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern\n\n\"Not a problem,\" Bran replied to the man's thanks. \"The first real entertainment we've had in here for weeks. It's become so monotonous I've been more content watching the rats,\" He said and gestured with his head over to the corner where there was an obvious rat hole. \"Really, it's for selfish purposes. A few more of those, and perhaps you'll see someone else in here who owes you a debt. Better yet, perhaps you'll see someone in here who owes me money.\" He smirked, \"I'd wager that'll cost me a little more than ale though.\" \n\nReally, no one in the tavern owed the prince money. He was just bored enough to actually consider returning home, and he wanted to start a bit of trouble before he left. Senseless bloodshed seemed to be as good a parting gift to his beloved southern isles as any, but whose blood to spill? \n\nHe looked around the tavern for a moment, and his blue eyes landed on the bloated owner of a brothel he frequented. He overcharged him once, and he treated his favorite girl badly and she quit. Bran looked back to the man across the table, \"Are your services for hire?\""
},
{
"author": "wildhillman",
"message": "Randall Hardin, Mercenary\nZulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern\n\n Randall politely listened to Bran, even offering a chuckle when he mentioned how fun it was to watch the Merc punch poor ol BS. In all honesty, the Old Seadog did say for him to remind the fucker of his debts and what better way than to *Beat* The reminder in? \"Well, when someone does you a favor and asks for a favor back, who was I to say no, right?\" Would've been a dick move to take a discounted bot ride and *Not* Help out. At any rate, the others around them seemed to calm a good bit and return to talking amongst each other as he'd then hear Bran's next question. \"Am I for hire? Well, uh, it depends on the job and pay but yes! Been lookin' fer a job, actually. This is my first time out of the village and my island, so ,um... All sorts of exciting, you know?\" The prince would be flashed with the biggest smile the Hardin could muster as he tapped his old shield. An emblem, worn heavily through use and the passage of time, was still barely on the rounded piece of metal as he showed it off."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern\n\n\"First time out of the village and you're knocking pirates on their arse?\" He smirked, \"Granted, it was one that cried. However, you keep that up and you can get a place on any ship out of here you like.\" Brandon chuckled when he inquired after what kind of job he wanted, \"Unfortunately, nothing that should have you quite that excited.\" He emptied the remaining contents of his cup then glanced back over at the owner of the brothel. \"Another show,\" He added on before turning back to look at Randall. \"It would be in your best interest, but you can't overdo it in one night. No one wants the company of a true lunatic on their ship, but a brawler is always useful.\" Bran tapped the table a few times, \"Hm, maybe in a few days. I'll bring him here, you put on a show, you collect a satchel of my coin. Sound good?\""
}
] | 259 | 1,806 |
1,182.666667 | 2019-03-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "15 YEARS AGO\nRiander and Robin\nThe shores of Alderport, The Southern Isles\n\nThunder rolled ominously over the shore. In the distance, the sound of sea warfare made Riander feel numb.\n\nThe poorest inhabitants of Alderport had no choice but to stay in shacks rooted in the sandy outskirts of the islands. The community was like a family, to him. A way to survive, at the very least.\n\nFrom a young age, Riander had grown up here, just him and his mother. She'd used to work in the estate of House Alder, but when a sickness struck her and made her lose one of her legs, she'd been dismissed. Then, she'd at least been able to afford a small place in the capital. But after she became effectively lame, the slums had been the only place to go.\n\nStill, Riander had lived a fine-enough life. It was the only one he could remember. They didn't have much, but what they did have, they shared with everyone else who found themselves here. He was only 13 years old, but he'd had to learn how to act like a man when he was quite young. Or at least, to _provide_ like he was one. That way, he could keep his mother alive. And, so he could prove useful enough for the rest of the poor folks on the shore.\n\nAnd useful, he was. Riander, influenced mostly by man who led a gang of fighters and thieves, became a skilled informant for the bunch, his young and seemingly innocent disposition granting him leverage to work odd jobs and figure out how to rob their owners, whether in secret, or outright. The gang leader, Roman, took Riander in and was sure to take care of his mother, too.\n\n\"We look out for each other, kid. And besides, you're not half bad at making people feel sorry for ya,\" Roman had said one evening after a successful raid, laughing and placing his hand on Riander's shoulder.\n\nRoman was still there, even now. As the war raged, smoke billowing into the air as ships fell in balls of fire, he sat there with Riander in\nTheir shack as his mother fought for her life.\n\nSome of the Alderport Navy had poisoned some batches of fish in the hopes of sending them as \"Peace offerings\" To the Pirate Lord's armies. It had worked, but almost too well. Some of the poisoned fish had been carelessly left on the shore, and Riander's mother, Leia, was one of the unlucky souls who'd eaten one. Riander remembered bringing it to her for lunch, that day. And now, she was sweating profusely, her skin dangerously pale and her lips practically blue. She breathed in short gasps, her bright eyes staring blankly at the thatched roof of their shack.\n\n\"Ma..\" Riander murmured, trying to get her attention. Tears flooded down his cheeks as he saw life fade from her eyes.\n\nRoman looked on solemnly, shaking his head. He averted his eyes, taking a swig form his flask instead.\n\n\"Ma, don't go.. I'm sorry..\" Riander said, holding onto his mother's hand fiercely now. Outside, the storm began picking up, rain pouring down onto the shore as the thunder and lightning crashed about them.\n\nLeia seemed startled by the sudden thunderous roar, and she took in a sharp gasp of air. Then, her gaze finally focused enough for her to look up toward her son.\n\n\"Riander.. You.. You need to know—\"\n\n\"Know what? Ma, what?!\" Riander shouted, his hands trembling as he held onto his mother's hand.\n\n\"...Your father was not a pirate. He didn't leave us, he—\" The woman succumbed to a coughing fit, her whole body shaking as she was too weak to suppress it. Eventually, she calmed down enough to rasp out the next few words.\n\n\"Your father is a-alive. He's.. Our patriarch. Sergian Alder. I'm sorry, son.. I should.. Should have...\"\n\nLeia took a few more desperate breaths.\n\nAnd then, she was gone.\n\nRiander knelt there, his face frozen in shock. \"What..?\" He whispered, staring at his mother's face, her body completely still.\n\nHis father was the patriarch? \nHe'd _left_ them here, on a god-forsaken shore?\nAnd what's worse...\n\n\"He killed her,\" Riander simply said, his eyes cold as he moved his hand up to close his mother's eyes. Tears still pooled in his own, and his cheeks were still wet. But his eyes were bright with fury. With a thirst for vengeance.\n\n\"What do you want to do?\" Roman asked, watching the boy with an almost playful curiosity. He felt for the kid. But what Roman saw was a brilliant opportunity, not merely a loss. Sometimes, emotions were just the best vehicle to get someone to do something smart. Even if they didn't know it. \"The war isn't going in our favor. House Alder is surely weak...\"\n\n\"Then that's where we'll go,\" Riander said, standing up and wiping his cheeks. He looked out of their shack, seeing the estate of House Alder perched up further inland. \n\nHe balled his fists, glaring at the Alder sigil flying proudly on a banner, the exterior of the place just as lavish as anyone would expect.\n\n\"We're making him pay.\"\n\nRoman smirked, nodding and standing up. \n\n\"Whatever you say, kid.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Elena Corvus\nTonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nShe screamed. Body drenched with sweat and tears streaming down her face, Elena Corvus screamed as she had never before, for it was a pain she had never known before. Again and again, the pain racked her body, leaving her doubled up, every sinew and fiber of her being taught. Her screams filtered through the halls of her home, echoing and bouncing to and fro, as if the sound waves themselves were frightened of what could birth such ungodly sounds. It was a sound that none in the house could escape, but perhaps, if cruel enough, they could ignore. \n\n\"Push!\" Ordered the old woman whose hand Elena clutched for dear life. Her weathered face had seen many a new life brought forth and many a frightened new mother. \"'E's almost 'ere! PUSH!\" \n\nElena obeyed, pushing as hard as she could and screaming yet again, almost crushing the woman's hand in her own. Another older woman standing at the end of the bed and ready to receive the child which Elena was to bring forth. \n\nWhen the contraction passed, Elena collapsed back into the bed and laid there panting as the old woman mopped her pale, sweaty brow. \"Good girl,\" She murmured, giving Elena a warm, mostly toothless smile.\n\n\"Where is my husband?\" Elena sobbed. \"Where is Zander? He should be here! Where is he?\"\n\nThe woman's brow furrowed and she shook her head, a sorrowful look appearing upon her wrinkled face. A face that had seen many sorrows, in her time.\"'E in't comin', dear,\" She replied gently, brushing a tendril of hair from Elena's face, as a mother would do with her child. \"You be on your lonesome, but donna worry. You's strong! You's got good blood in ya, and you 'n' the chile 'll be fine.\" \n\nDespair crept over her soul, seeking to steal away what should be a happy moment in her young life. Zander had abandoned her... She knew that the midwives had sent for him; they had pleaded with him to come to his wife's side as she brought forth their firstborn child. Had they truly grown so far apart? Did he even care for her anymore?\n\nSince the day they had been enslaved, a change had begun in Zander. It was one which Elena had not seen until their liberation, and it had taken place slowly. A bitterness... A fury against the world for its cruelty and unfairness... A fury that was often aimed at the person closest to him. Their home-Elena's dream home, given to the two of them by the Pirate King himself-had turned into a home of nightmares, haunted by shattered glass and scars in the walls.\n\nShe had worked hard to provide for her young family, taking in laundry from surrounding taverns and the homes of the wealthy. Even as her body swelled with the child within her, she had gone out every day for work until her hands were raw and cracked. The child would not have a mother's soft, gentle hand to caress it, as the midwife now did with Elena. Haunted by his own demons, Zander had sought darkness, never leaving the house nor seeking any work. The burden fell upon Elena, and in a way, Zander became the demon that haunted her at home. That raging face from the depths of the darkest of worlds.\n\n\"Please, I need him,\" She begged.\n\n\"Sweet'art, women 've bin 'avin' babies since the world begun. Didn't need no man to birth 'em. You ain't the only woman to have a chile alone, and you ain't gonna be the last. 'E' the one that gave you this pain, did'n' 'he? You ain't got a need for *No man*, you hear me?\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" Elena whimpered, \"But-\" \n\nHer protest was cut short by yet another contraction, which was soon marked by Elena's body writhing and her screams ripping through the house again.\nBoth women ordered her to push and, from that point on, Elena didn't have the energy nor the will to speak. For what seemed like an eternity, her world was a crescendo of screams and agony. Unintelligible words escaped her lips. Her mind could form no thought but that of pain. \n\nAnd then, through it all, came the rallying cry, \"One more! One more! It's 'ere! It's 'ere!\" \n\nSilence. The world seemed to stop turning for a few moments as the women waited with baited breath. Elena lay collapsed on the bed, a bit delirious and panting as she waited for the sound of new life. \n\nAnd then it came.\n\nThe midwives smiled and divided up the work, the younger focusing on the child and the older focusing on the new mother. When they were ready, the two were brought together. \n\n\"It's a girl,\" Said the midwife with a warm smile that lit up her vibrant eyes as she placed the child in Elena's arms. The little girl was all red and slightly damp, with the faintest little patch of black hair on her head. She was swaddled in the blanket which Elena had stitched together from the strips of cloth she had been given here and there. Elena always seemed to be putting things together; trying to put right an increasingly shattered world.\n\nTears of joy trickled freely down her tired face as Elena clung to her child and kissed her forehead. The child's cries stopped at the sight and sound of her mother. Her large blue eyes gazed up with wonder and curiosity at her mother, which made Elena smile softly down at the infant. A face so wondering... \n\nThe scarred, once enslaved woman now held a bit of hope in her arms. A shitblood, she knew, but even a shitblood could be somebody. Her child would never know chains. Her child would never feel the crack of the whip against her back. The child had something that her mother did not: freedom that would last as long as she lived.\n\n\"My Hope,\" Elena whispered. \"You will never know my pain.\"\n\nMeanwhile, the eldest midwife hobbled down the hall in search of the new father. She found him in the furthest corner of the house from the new life that had been brought forth and the light that came with it. The man sought darkness, and he found it here in a room that he had converted for his own purposes. \n\n\"You 'ave a chile now, Mister,\" The old woman said rather curtly with a scolding look upon her face. Even she couldn't quite believe that a man could be so close in proximity to such a wondrous event and purposely choose not to be present. \"It's a girl.\" \n\nHe looked up at the woman, his dark hair overshadowing much of his face, save for dark, unfeeling eyes that gazed back at her. His face remained expressionless, without a hint of joy, as he nodded mutely and turned back to the book that he was reading. \n\nThe old woman seemed taken aback for a moment, but far be it from her to meddle in the affairs of her clients. The other midwives would hear the story later, no doubt. Rather than say anything, however, she simply closed the door and went back to Elena. \n\nSilence hung over the study like a shroud. The screams had stopped, but the voices in his head didn't. \n\n\"The bitch couldn't even get that right.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "*After Somehow Surviving Hanging Day*\nPrince Brandon Welles\nAboard his ship docked in Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles. \n\nOnce again Bran walked away from a situation where he should have died in The Southern Isles. He'd learned so many life lessons on those islands, they were becoming more like home than Terresol ever was to him. It had been three days since he'd seen his ship, he never saw Kichea again after she left him, and he looked like the walking dead. His skin on his shoulders and nose was burnt and peeling, his hair had gotten unruly and so curly it covered his ears, the dirt under his fingernails was an inch thick. He shocked himself when he looked in the mirror. He brought his dirty fingers up to the bags under his eyes, the blue hardly visible from the whites being engulfed in red. The Prince was usually a mess, but this was a little far even for him. \n\nHe could only imagine the looks he'd get back in Terresol. He couldn't help but laugh, although it came out as more of a dry heave because he was so dehydrated. Kichea had left a cup of dark rum on the vanity. It was days old, but it smelled divine. He looked over at it, tapped his fingers on the vanity a few times staring at it before he drank it. Can't waste a drop, bad luck on a ship.\n\nThere was a knock on his door a few minutes later, and a crew member came without waiting for the okay. \"Saw you stumblin' in, thought I'd give you a second to settle in before I told you you got company.\" The Prince laughed, \"A risky decision, but I admire it. Who's here?\" \n\n\"Man named Ransis, says your ol' man sent him a few weeks ago.\"\n\"Mhm, get rid of him.\" \n\"Seems like folk would miss him.\"\n\"I'm alarmed that murder is still your first instinct, Don.\"\n\"What the 'ell you want then?!\"\n\"Tell him I'm not here.\" \n\"Not gon work. He saw you stumblin' in too.\"\n\nRansis poked his head in behind Don, \"I'm flattered by this warm welcome but-By the Gods, Brandon! You look like hell!\"\n\nDon looked at Bran with his eyebrow raised, lifted a dagger from the top of his trousers. Bran paused for far too long before he shook his head. Don left then shut the door. Ransis was one of the Duke of Erba's oldest friends and advisers. He was like an uncle to Brandon and Evelyn, the spoke openly. Brandon preferred things that way. \n\nRansis entered the room, hand over mouth looking at Brandon from shoulder to foot.\n\n\"A little notice ensures a well groomed host, Ransis.\"\n\"You have been gone for five months, we've sent you countless letters, and I've been here for weeks.\" \n\"Why?\"\nRansis raised his gaze to the ceiling, \"Should I repeat my previous statement?\"\n\"No.\"\n\"At any rate, I'm not here to drag you home. I'm here to actually give you an occupation.\"\n\"Oh?\"\n\"Oh, yes. All in the letter I sent, but I took the liberty of writing it down again for you.\" \nBrandon took the letter without reading it, \"Wise.\"\n\nRansis inhaled deeply, taking another look at the Prince. \"I'll leave you to it, and we're all looking forward to seeing you at Meros in a month. One month, Brandon. Oh, before I forget.\" He pulled a letter from his pocket, \"From Evelyn.\" Brandon took the second letter, \"Off you go.\" Ransis nodded, 'Right. The wine is stored aboard your ship already. It's a foolproof transaction.\" Bran nodded, \"I have a fifty percent chance at success, understood.\""
}
] | 1,156 | 3,548 |
999.833333 | 2019-03-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "loonay_",
"message": "He let the door swing shut behind him, aware that the men on deck lingered slightly, trying to see within. Imal caught the eye of one, Kendall, a particularly nasty man who's skin was covered in pox scars and his hair was as greasy as his tongue. \n\n\"She' a right fuckable one, ain't she sir,\" He rasped as Imal as he pushed his brush and scrubbed the sea slime and salt off the deck.\n\nImal paused in his path to the galley and locked eyes with the greasy man. He stood there for a moment, brows furled, eyes sharp, until the other man looked down, murmuring some nonsense under his tongue. Imal continued, hardly missing a beat to his step.\n\nAs he entered the gallery he saw his first mate Hanah grabbing a 2nd taste of the evening meal. As Imal entered the small room, carved out of the hull and bursting with barrels of pickled food and weak beer, he laughed.\n\n\"Ah, Hanah, still 'ungrry I see\" He clapped his friend on the sholder as Hanah sputtered a weak objection. \"Eat, don't let me stop you\".\n\n\"That voman 'aving you fetch forr 'err like a deckboy?\" Hanah threw back, catching his breath. \n\nImal laughed as he grabbed a gunny sack and tossed a few hard tack rolls and pickles inside it. \"You vant to test 'err?\" He asked.\n\nHanah raised his hands in surrender \"She is yourr prroblem, not mine\" He said, grabbing a wrinkled green apple from a small sack he had hiding behind a particularly rusty looking pile of pots and tossed it to Imal, who snatched it out of the air quickly and pointed at Hanah.\n\n\"Sneaky sneaky\" Imal said, wiggling his finger and tucking the apple into the sack. He grabbed a tankard out of a crate and held it under a tapped barrel, the foamy liquid pouring a smooth bronze.\n\n\"Keep zat up and I'll begin to worry you've made frriends with our new quarrtermasterr.\" Imal chuckled but Hanah's mouth twisted and he spat on the deck.\n\n\"Zat one is trrouble,\" Hanah said.\n\n\"Ey, keep a vatch on 'im, and ze ones zat came viz 'im\" Imal said, turning back towards the deck. \"I don't vant any trrouble\".\n\nAs Imal left Hanah in the galley he heard a guttural agreement behind him. Almost half his crew had come with the new quarrtermaster and Imal regretted the decision almost immediately, but the cargo needed to be delivered to Tonate quickly, and they were making good time. There shouldn't be any trouble, as long as there were no more surprises. He would need to keep Loonay / Zeeba out of site and out of mind.\n\nHe reentered his cabin and immediatly noticed the curve of her neck as she bent over his charts. \"Do you know vat yourre looking at?\" He asked as he set down the beer and sack.\n\nShe murmured, neither confirming or denying, and picked up the tankard, taking a small sip, then drank deeply. She then fell upon the food ravenously and he took again to his cot to sit and watch her. She was fascinating, a deadly grace to her that made his skin crawl and heat raise in his face and stomach. She snatched up food quickly, catching anything before it could fall, not loosing a single crumb. He had heard stories of the deadly grace snd efficiency of the Shadowmen but he has never met one. His service to the Dark Lord involved information. He was not the hand, but the eyes and ears. He revered her as he watched her, the touch of divinity both amazed and aroused him. But he values his hands too much to actually touch her.\n\nHe leaned back on his cot and lounged, stretching his muscles, sore after a days sailing. \"So, verre arre you 'eaded\" He asked the ceiling.\n\nShe paused, her mouth closed and examined the hard bread in her hand before murmuring \"I don't know.\"\n\nThis surprised him, he had not really expected a response.\n\nImal Hassan\nThe Wind Dancer, en route to Tonate\n\n\"Vell, ve arre 'eadded to Tonate\" He said back to the ceiling.\n\nShe ate for a while in silence, finishing her meal and the beer. He was starting to slip into slumber when she spoke again.\n\n\"My Lord vill guide me\" She said strongly, startling him awake.\n\n\"Ey,\" Was all he could thing to say.\n\nShe came towards him, her balance impeccable, none of the flailing clumsiness he had seen earlier. She swayed with the ship, her hips rocking and his mouth started to water. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him. He raised a brow and she furled hers. He chuckled and rolled to face the ship's hull. She laid down as well, her back to his. He could feel her radiating heat but she did not touch him, and he knew better than to touch her. He slipped into sleep thinking of his mother and how she used to tell him that women were like fire, but he was used to heat, and wouldn't mind a little burn."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "15 YEARS AGO\nHouse Alder's Estate, The Southern Isles\n\n_Riander_\n\n\"Got him,\" Robin said, returning his bow to his back and nodding over to Riander, who had stayed behind while the rest of the gang members they'd recruited shattered the glass of the balcony window and charged into the room of the patriarch.\n\nWith the frenzy of the war, being able to scale the outside of the estate had been easy enough. Something about it all felt _too_ easy, though.\n\n\"Right,\" Riander said, swallowing and gripping onto the dagger at his side, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold. This was it. There was no going back now.\n\nThe young man stepped over the glass and strode into the room, appalled at what he saw. An enchantment circle, losing its glow... And a woman, bound there against her will? The room looked as if it hadn't seen light in days, and the musty smell of old books filled the space.\n\n\"Get the woman up, bind any wounds you can,\" Riander ordered. \"She's the matriarch. Don't be rough.\"\n\nThe gang glanced to Robin for direction. As the gang's _actual_ leader, it just felt right to check with him before taking orders from a young man who was barely a teenager. But Robin remained outside. He shrugged, smirking and taking a slow draw from his flask, waving a hand dismissively.\n\nAnd so, the gang did as Riander said, pulling the pregnant woman from the circle of chalked gibberish, leaning her up against the wall and using strips of cloth to try to stifle the bleeding. From there, Gertrude simply stared at Riander and his leadership, puzzled, but too exhausted to say much about it.\n\nWhile doing so, Riander stared at what he assumed was the patriarch. The older man wore the colors of House Alder, his rings telling enough of his wealth and power. A power that Riander was determined to make obsolete. For good.\n\nIndeed, the fallen patriarch could do nothing but gasp and clutch his chest, where Robin's arrow was lodged. It hadn't pierced the man's heart, but was agonizingly close to doing so. All he needed to do was deliver the final blow. He'd imagined this moment in so many different ways, but that still didn't feel like enough to prepare him, as he was.\n\n\"Do you know who I am?\" Riander said, his voice containing a slight tremor as he fought to keep his rage back. \n\nSergian could not properly speak, but looked clueless either way. He choked and gurgled on his own blood.\n\n\"Fine,\" Riander said, lifting his foot and placing it on Sergian's chest, making the man grunt and squirm. \"I will tell you, then.\"\n\nRiander unsheathed his dagger and twirled it once in his hand. His eyes were piercingly cold, glaring down at Sergian's face. His father's face.\n\n\n\"My mother used to work for you, in this estate. Her name was Leia. You sent her away to fend for herself. You sent her away with me,\" Riander said.\n\nSergian coughed and wheezed, his eyes brightening with recollection as the memories of Leia began rushing back. The resemblance to the woman in this boy's face was utterly undeniable. That servant woman... Did this boy really mean that... Leia had been...?\n\n\"You killed her. You're a monster, and you took the only person I had away from me!\" Riander shouted, gripping the dagger's hilt with two hands, now. He raised up his arms, shouting as he rammed the dagger right through Sergian's chest, crouching over the man now.\n\nThe patriarch's gaze focused on Riander's face for his last few moments of life. He saw himself in the boy. And he saw Leia, as well. He tried to say something, but his mouth couldn't properly form the word. And then, he stopped breathing entirely.\n\nRobin smiled, satisfied even from where he watched on the balcony. He tucked his flask away and hopped down from the railing, walking inside and kicking away a few shards of glass.\n\nHe noticed a movement in the doorway, sharply turning toward it.\n\nNewry Alder stood there, her hands and feet numb with shock. She watched her father lie there, dead. And there was so much blood... \n\n\"Da? D-Da..\" She cried, sniffling and remaining where she stood. She was too frightened to move any closer. Too stricken with shock to run away.\n\nRobin scratched his head, sighing and walking toward the girl. _This night make things complicated._ She was about to scream, before Robin scooped her up and placed a hand over her mouth.\n\n\"Oh no you don't,\" He said, before elbowing the girl in the side of the head, rendering her unconscious. He held her limp form in one arm, nodding to the other gang members. \"Secure the room.\"\n\nHe turned back toward Riander, the boy a shuddering mess. \n\n\"Up off the man, kid. The deed's done. You won,\" Robin said, watching as the boy did as he was told. \n\n_He's real shaken up_ , Robin thought, sighing. _I'll take over from here._\n\n\"Don't worry. You did the right thing,\" Robin said, nudging the boy away from Sergian's body with his foot. \"Just keep looking clueless, alright?\"\n\nIt was at that point that a flurry of steps made their way to the door led by none other than a pair of twins. Tobias and Thalia had somehow managed to get past Helene. And it was a good thing they did.\n\nThalia merely screamed, covering her eyes.\n\nTobias glared at Robin, reaching for his sword.\n\n\"What did you do with my father. Who are you?!\" The twin shouted. He noticed that Robin was holding Newry in one arm. \"Let her go!\"\n\n\"I'm the one who saved your mother's life. Er, well, he was,\" Robin said, gesturing to Riander. \"Your father went mad, boy. He was about to send this whole island to ruin, starting with your mother. And this little girl, too.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Tobias asked, looking to where Gertrude was propped up against the wall, a trail of blood in her wake.\n\n\"From the looks of it, he was trying to make an undead army. And the matriarch was going to be the final blood sacrifice,\" Robin said, shrugging. \"We got here just in time. We weren't intending to kill your old man, but, well, the second he realized who this kid was, it seems he stabbed himself in the heart. Riander did his best to save him, but..\"\n\nRobin gestured to Riander, who was at least a little more composed, now. He stared at Tobias, his eyes devoid of much emotion besides anger. And fear.\n\n\"Who is he?\" Tobias said, frowning with confusion. \n\n\"He's your brother, Tobias.\"\n\nThe weak voice came from the wall, where Gertrude sat. She'd had enough time to piece it all together in her mind, while she'd been observing all of this.\n\n\"Ma... What do you mean? That shitblood—\"\n\n\"—Is your brother, just as I said. His mother was a part of the help, here. Your father...\" Gertrude began coughing, her frail body hardly able to sustain the amount of energy she was expunging.\n\n\"I didn't believe it either, kid. But the resemblance is uncanny,\" Robin said, noting the physical similarities between both of the boys. \"His name's Riander. He grew up on the shores of Alderport, with me.\"\n\nTobias wanted to argue, but shock and confusion left him silent. If even his mother agreed with this ruffian's story..\n\n\"They saved my life, Tobias. Please... Believe them,\" Gertrude said, her plea sounding even weaker than her explanation before. \n\n\"But.. If father is gone.. And Mylo died on the ship...\" Thalia murmured, the girl having been silent up until now. \"Does that mean.. T-Tobias is the new—\"\n\n\"No,\" Gertrude firmly said, sighing deeply. \"Riander saved me. He has your father's blood, and he kept this island from becoming an utter disaster.\"\n\nRiander blinked, looking over to Gertrude, his face dark with disbelief. _Why is she defending me? Didn't she see what I did...? _\n\nRobin just smiled to himself, having to contain his glee. Was this all going to go in the direction he wanted? He'd hardly had to lift a finger.\n\nAnd then, the course of House Alder changed forever. Heavy gusts swept into the room, and lightning flashed to cast a momentary flash of light on those gathered.\n\n\"By the power vested in me, as standing matriarch of our clan,\" Gertrude said. \"I name this boy as our new patriarch. Riander.\"\n\n_The events that followed the patriarch's murder._\n\nWhen all of the dust settled, Riander was officially named the new patriarch of the Alder clan. It wasn't a direction he'd seen coming, but it was one that served Robin and the rest of the gang. And in truth, it served everyone.\n\nUnder Riander's leadership, shadowed mostly by Robin's decision-making, the clan ended their war against the Pirate Lord and submitted to his rule, ending the bloodshed and constant feuding between the clans. As a shitblood, Riander came to identify with the Pirate Lord's philosophy after learning more about the origins of the war. And though Robin did most of the planning until Riander grew old enough to make decisions on his own, he saw to it that the culture of Alderport changed.\n\nHe used but a fraction of the family's store of wealth to help the poor, ordering a hospitable shelter built on the shore and issuing decrees to modernize the town, similar to what Bradai has done in Tonate Proper. \n\nWhen the issue of Newry arose, Robin and Riander had to think of an alibi to keep her quiet.\n\n\"What do we do about her?\" Riander had said, sitting at a desk in one of his late father's studies. If Newry revealed that he'd killed Sergian, not merely \"Saved\" Gertrude, Tobias and Thalia would certainly turn against him. The twins already seemed leery of him.\n\n\"The Pirate King is taking up wives from the other clans, right?\" Robin said. \"That's what we do. We give Newry over as _our_ elected bride, and voila! She's out of our hair.\"\n\nAnd so, that's what Riander did. It was a difficult decision, especially for the rest of the Alder's, but for the next 15 years, it would keep Riander and Robin in charge without any hiccups.\n\nSeeing the benefits of aligning with the Pirate King, Tobias and Thalia eventually came around, serving at Riander's side.\n\n\"What happened was awful, but... Riander saved us, Tobias,\" Thalia had said one night on their 20th birthday, when they'd snuck up to the roof to stare at the stars together. \"And life is so much better now. I miss father, too, but...\"\n\n\"I know,\" Tobias had replied, sighing and running a hand through his hair. \"I just wonder if we did the right thing. Letting a shitblood take over. If Mylo were here..\"\n\n\"He'd be proud. We're still the most profitable island in the Southern Federation. We aren't fighting for our lives anymore,\" Thalia said, smiling. \"Mylo would be proud.\"\n\n—————————————————\n\nCurrently, Lord Riander Alder, 28, reports directly to the Pirate King as lord of The Southern Isles' Navy and head of the opium operation. Robin, 38, serves as his head advisor.\n\nTobias Alder, 29, serves as Commander of the Navy, working to defend the waters of the Isles no matter the cost.\n\nThalia Alder, 29, is head of the poppy farm operations, making sure the growing of the plant by which the Southern Isles lives is thriving and prosperous.\n\nNewry Alder, 21, is one of Bradai's wives. Her memory of her father's gruesome death has never truly left her. \n\nGertrude Alder, 50, is practically bedridden after the ordeal. She was able to recover, but the toll her body took on that night has left her quite stationary as the honorary matriarch of House Alder. She offers advice to Riander often, taking quite a liking to him.\n\nMirajane Alder, 15, is the child who was born to Gertrude prematurely."
},
{
"author": "xx_xanxibar_xx",
"message": "Emmaline Maíth, Quartermaster\nJust beyond spyglass distance; aboard the Salt Queen\n\n\"What the fuck is that?\"\n\"It used to be rice.\"\nEmmaline blinked. \"Why would you try to pickle rice?\"\n\"Why wouldn't you?\"\n\"Because I have a shred of common sense.\"\n\"Do you really?\"\n\"...Would you like to die today?\"\n\"I'll think about it.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nAboard his ship \"Birnam\" In Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles. \n\nLeon made it clear in wasn't going to be an option for more than a few days for the foreseeable future. In the last five years, the longest consecutive period he'd been on Araedian soil was eight days. He spent three years away without hearing a single word from his family. The first person to reach out to him was Evelyn. She'd been writing for years, but somehow the letters never reached him until she got clever about the way in which she sent them.\n\nIt took him a full year to realize the finality of his stay in the Southern Isles. \n\nA full year of his life was spent enjoying all the things he couldn't do in Araedia out in the open. He made friends with whomever he liked, he drank whenever he liked, he said whatever he liked, and no one from home reached out to him. He assumed he wasn't missed in Araedia, and that was nice at first.\n\nHis 19th birthday was a turnaround, his first birthday away from home. The crew Leon sent with him had no plans to take him home. Even though he was on the ship, Leon was still the Captain of it. He expected they might come to him, but a week after his birthday passed it was clear that no one was coming. It was the same for Hogcock, the anniversary of his mother's death, Evelyn's birthday, Leon's, Reyums...\n\nThe silence from his family left him numb for months, but that's when he understood that he was no longer a real part of that family. It took him months to recover from that realization. It took him 2 months to dismiss the entire crew Leon sent with him- becoming the Captain of his own ship, another month to staff it again with a crew made up of the sort of people he actually wanted to be around, and another year before he felt a sense of accomplishment for the family he built for himself in the Isles. \n\nHis ship was not designed to be a home, but somehow Brandon made it one.\n__\n\"Give me a warn-\" He started choking as the bucket of water was thrown in his face. It was sea water. It burned his eyes, stung the inside of his nose, but he couldn't even complain about it because within 5 seconds another bucket was thrown at him. \n\nThis was how the crew bathed, having buckets of water thrown at them near the wooden squares they sat on when they had to take a shit. \n\nBrandon knew didn't need to go through this. He could have a warm bath and no one would care, but Brandon prided himself on the fact that everyone aboard Birnam was treated like an equal. Besides having his own sleeping quarters, Brandon was very much regarded as a member of his own crew.\n\nThe young man throwing the water at him was new. Bran found him nearly ready to have his guts ripped out for cheating while gambling in a pirate tavern on Zulprisa Island. He couldn't have been more than 16 years old, and the fact that he complimented the man that was about to gut him on being able to count as his last words made Brandon take pity on him. He talked him out of certain death and paid his debt. He had every intention of just letting the kid go, but it was obvious he didn't have anywhere to go. \n\nWater dripped from Brandon's body, and he could feel the breeze coming from the small holes in the floor that the water escaped from. This was misery. Five years of these baths at sea were beginning to take a toll, yet he looked over at the new kid holding the bucket and said, \"Another.\"\n\nHe had business to conduct, a very small task, however he couldn't do it looking or smelling like he did. He knew he was much more likely to be successful when he didn't look like a vagrant. After a shave, a haircut, and a slathering of some salve over his sunburnt skin he looked fit for business. \n\nThe trade he did for Erba was busy work. Leon didn't trust him to run the operations, so he basically just transported rum and cocoa from a trusted grower every few months. Frankly, it was insulting, Evelyn could have done it. It was a chance to receive supplies from home though, and once it was done he was free to go wherever he wanted."
},
{
"author": "loonay_",
"message": "Loonay de Silva\nTonate docks\n\nLoonay watch from the captain's deck as the men brought the ship into port. Men scurried over the main deck below. Months of working together had taught them to move in tndem, like a kind of dance in the tight space. Everyone had a job to do, but even so there was a clear division to the crew. Imal had not said much to her about the state of his crew and she had rarely left his cabin, but she could see that some if the men were dirtier than others, the carried themselves lower, in defensive positions, like a waif backed into a corner. They were the ones that leered at her and whispered behind her back. She would not miss them.\n\nThe ship was a masterpiece, all ropes and sails, gliding into port gently with the changing tide. Iman gave instructions to Hanah while making notes in his inventory lists, categorizing the order that shipments would be unloaded and delivered. A man from the port had rowed out to them and was inspecting the lists. Coined changed hands more than once and Loonay made a point of not looking at them.\n\nIt took hours to get the ship tied securely to the dock, and loonay had to dodge men carrying huge barrels of goods and booms lifting even more crates in a net. As soon as her feed hit the dock she almost fell, the world tilted and spun, and only a firm hand on her arm kept her from pitching into the water between the dock and the ships hull.\n\n\"Zat vill crush you for surre, Zeeba\" A deep voice said. Loonay turned, startled at the use of the false name she had given so many weeks ago. She turned to meet the face of Imal's second mate, the quartermaster.\n\n\"Many zanks\" She said, pulling her arm from his grasp, it still felt as though the dock was moving under her as she took a few steps back.\n\n\"Your lands legs'll come back\" He chuckled, letting at her figure, everything from the chin down.\n\nShe did not bother to respond, instead she simply turned and carefully made her way along the dock, weaving between the growing piles of cargo.\n\nShe had no idea where she was, and knew only a few words of the local tongue. Imal had offered to teach her a few phrases but she knew it would be difficult to communicate. Even so she wanted to put the Wind Dancer and her crew far behind. Anyone who knew her or where she had come from could be a threat. There would not be a price on her head but she did not want to draw undue attention to herself. As she made it to the wharf she became to look for the signs of her faith. Imal had said there was a small underground temple in Tonate and she was sure she would be safe there, for a time. \n\nAs she walked she grew more confident on her feet. The ground still seemed to move slightly but she was adjusting. Sailors called out to her as she passed but one look from her abd they gave her a wide berth.\n\nShe found the simple she was looking for, a circle with a horizontal line through the top, the setting sun, on the bottom corner of the door to a warehouse. The road it was on was narrow and filthy, rubbish and mud piled up at the edges of the buildings. A fat orange tabby cat darted out from a nearby alley, a large grey rat darting out in front, but no people were nearby. She tested the door but it was latched, so she began to walk the perimeter of the building looking for another door or open window. She paused at the entrance to the alley the cat had come from. It was dark but her eyes adjusted quickly.\n\nShe proceeded quickly, jumping as a pile of rubbish squirmed. She could see a window high above halfway down the alley that was ajar and made her way towards it. Her attention was so entirely on the window she almost missed the sound of a booted foot scuffing the dirt of the alley behind her. She ducked refkexivke as something heavy swung over her head. Whoever it was lost their balance and fell on top of her, taking her down with his girth before she could move out of the way."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Kichea\nTonate docks, The Southern Isles \n\nThe other girls slept during the day, nights were busy. Such a life never suited Kichea. She worked when she liked, but she also took walks in the sun. The docks were not her favorite place. The sand smelled like piss, drunken men stumbled about trying not to miss their ships, and it was easy to get robbed or over powered. There was only one person she would venture this close to hell for, and when she arrived his ship wasn't even there. What a terrible lover- if he even warranted that title.\n\nKichea survived relatively on her own in the Isles for as long as she did because she knew when to smile, when to run, and never to get involved in the mayhem surrounding her. She did however, enjoy a show.\n\nShe walked by the alley just as a hulk of a man, seemingly drunk, took a swing at a woman half his size. Almost anywhere else in Marin, this would only have one outcome, but women in the Isles seemed to be a different breed, especially the ones that roamed the docks. Kichea watched as the two of them stumbled to the ground then shook her head, \"Why ya takin a swing at tha poor girl?\" She sighed, but kept her distance. \"Ge' off er ya fat *Swine!* \""
}
] | 903.5 | 5,999 |
553 | 2019-03-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nThe Irons, Tonate Proper \n\n\"Vhere ain't no turnin' back after vis, Bran.\"\n\nBrandon and three members of his crew ventured into the administrative section of the Southern Isles. After 5 years of practical banishment from his home, he started to reject the notion of even considering Araedia home. He wanted more for himself, for his crew, than loading crates and barrels on and off one of his Father's posher ships every few months. \n\nHe could do more, and ambition was becoming a beast eating him alive. \n\nThe Pirate King had always been villainized to him- a murderous animal in a man's body who could hardly hold a conversation with a real King. At his root, he was a shitblood. Shitbloods didn't desire any well being for anyone born above their station. They were best avoided at all costs. Of course, Brandon being the daring young man he is decided to test that theory which led to him discovering that it was all a crock of shit. Fear was the real animal, greed its mother. \n\nHowever, there was a slight hesitation from Brandon when approaching the cluster of buildings that housed Maith's most trusted advisors, administrators, and on occasion the man himself. There was no guarantee that he'd be remotely interested in speaking to the disgraced second son of a Provincial from Araedia.\n\nBrandon squared his shoulders, \"I know.\"\n\nThe building was impressive, tall ceilings, beautiful artwork, and tropical flowers sat atop tall urns with beautiful patterns etched into the stone. Brandon lived a double life since he was about 13 years old. One side of him was accustomed to scenes like this, and that side behaved a certain way. The other side, had absolutely no place in building such as this. He had an odd sensation that if there was ever a place that embodied both of those sides, it was here. \n\n\"Vhat ya need?\"\n\nBrandon snapped out of his own thoughts to turn to a man, clearly official. \"Hello, my name is Brandon Welles. I was wondering if Bradai Maith be interested in having an Araedian port in his arsenal.\" \n\n\"Could be. How ya gon' give it to him?\"\n\nBrandon smirked, \"I own it.\" \n\nThe official raises his eyebrows then took a step towards Bran, \"Keep talkin'...\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\n\"—yeah, I do fink it's pretty interesting vhat a noble boy would offer 'is port to us. Erba no less.\"\n\nOllie McCallister crossed his arms, clearly displeased with Bradai's willingness to hold council with what was essentially an Araedian Provincial. \"Exactly. Who comes in and offers something like that up? What's he gonna do next, see exactly what contraband he can transport right to Araedian authorities? He'll try and discredit the Trading Company, and our holdings in Terresol will be caput.\"\n\nThe Pirate King nodded slowly, \"Yeah well, _normally_ I would agree wiff you. But dock records on Brandon Welles 'ave shown vhat 'e's lived 'ere for five years. 'is favher, Leon Welles put 'im to work on a ship 'e gave 'im.\" He rifled through his papers, passing countless lists across the desk and into the hands of the secretary. \"About a year later, as you will see 'ere...\" He pointed to another list and added it to the growing pile in Ollie's arms, \"—vhat crew was fired, and 'is name was put next to tha name uff anuvher ship, wiff a crew vhat 'as caused any variety uff petty crimes and disturbances. Shitblooded as vhey come. If it _is_ a con, it is a _long_ con. I fink 'e might be a touch jaded vhat 'is favher put 'im 'ere. 'e'd be going under anovher name if 'e was gonna spy on us.\"\n\n\"I think he just wants to get back at Daddy.\" Ollie muttered, looking through the papers with narrowed eyes. He sounded annoyed at the prospect of working with him. \n\n\"I completely agree, which is why we'll take Erba wiff vhis boy's 'elp. We'll ride vhis resentment as far as it'll go, and if by tha end tha boy wants to claim Erba for tha Isles, we let 'im. If not...\" The Pirate King set the papers on his desk, \"I'll put you personally in charge of making 'im disappear. I know you've always wanted to cement shoe an Araedian.\"\n\nFinding this satisfactory, Ollie stood from his chair and stepped out of the Pirate King's office. He tucked the papers into his clipboard and made a brisk pace down the hall and into the library, where Brandon had been sat to wait. \n\n\"Mr. Welles?\" Ollie stepped around the corner, hand extended to shake. With a smile, he informed the Araedian that the Pirate King was ready to see him. \"Down the hall, first door to the right. Knock before you enter, only come him when he says that you can. I look forward to a bright future together.\" With a nod, the secretary turned the corner, out of view."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nBrandon hardly got through his lessons as a child because he hated reading. It was never his passion, but the books in the library were a welcome distraction. He walked around, running his fingers down the spines of the books, taking glimpses out the window of the mansion to the beautiful grounds outside. He'd been on a ship for far too long. He'd forgotten what it was like to be on solid ground in a grand house like the Maith Mansion. \n\nHe got bored after a while then took a seat in a plush chair that he sank into perfectly. As soon as he got truly comfortable, Ollie's footsteps made him sit up straight. Brandon stood when Ollie came in the room, shook his hand, and returned the smile. He listened to the directions he gave him with a nod. His comment about working together made him relax a little, and the thought that he was walking into a room to have his ear cut off to be auctioned for ransome quieted significantly. \n\nOllie vanished around another corner, and within a few seconds Brandon ventured down a long hall, approached the door then knocked without hesitation. He looked around waiting for the man on the other side, The Pirate King, to tell him to come in. \n\nWhen he heard it, he opened the door and came in. \n\nHe'd never seen the man up close before, and he wasn't exactly your standard King. Of course, he hadn't thought of any of that before he was standing in front of the man. He pieced together as much of a respectful greeting as he could muster, \"King Bradai, thank you for meeting with me.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nBrandon was right about one thing: Bradai Maith didn't look like a king. He had never really strived to appear royal. It wasn't like he was an ascetic, though. His clothing was a signifier of his wealth. Gold chains were strung around his wrists as bracelets, across his breast connecting journals to pockets and a watch to his side, another around his neck to hold a pendant beneath his simply drawstring shirt. His overcoat was strung on the back of his chair unceremoniously, it's many pockets hung open, and the desk filled with it's contents. Maps, wayward notes, a few separate leather bound books, all in neat little stacks before him. He appeared to be a man deep in thought, hair askew and beard untrimmed. He was obsessed with organization, not appearance. He looked more like a barkeep then a King. When Brandon entered the room, the Pirate King was in the process of rolling down his sleeves, obscuring the tattoos that littered his forearms and wrists. \n\n\"It's nuffink. I try to meet wiff anyone vhat promises me a good amount of land.\" The Pirate King didn't look up from the ledgers he was reviewing, taking just a moment to let out a soft chuckle, dip his quill into the inkwell, and provide Brandon with a brief glance. \"I've read about you. You've been living in tha Isles for some time now, employing some Shitbloods. Where did you get tha idea for vhis meeting?\" \n\n\"Oh yeah and uh...\" He removed his free hand from the side of the ledger and motioned to one of the chairs before the desk, \"Sit. Get comfortable. Really relax.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nBrandon took in the sight of the man for a moment, and he was frankly relieved. Frankly, he typically had more successful conversations with barkeeps than Kings. Brandon himself never cared much for what he was wearing. The least enjoyable place in the world was a fitting for a regal getup before an event that he'd be surrounded by people that bored him to death. \n\nHe looked around the room, organized and neat. It still had the air of a space that was used often though, he liked it. \n\nBran smirked when he said he'd meet with anyone promising him land, \"Exactly what I hoped for.\" He wasn't exactly promising him Erba, but he figured he was just speaking generally. Brandon raised his eyebrows when he said he'd read about him, \"I hadn't the slightest idea there was anything about me written down.\" He nodded along with a smile when he said he was in the isles employing some shitbloods. He knew his crew was a wild bunch that typically made trouble wherever they went. \n\nIt wasn't exactly his fault though, he didn't bring them to the Isles... He just gave them incentive to stay. \n\nBrandon took a seat when he was offered one, relaxing in it. Of course, like most of the rumors he'd heard. The ones about the Pirate King seemed extremely false. He was easy to talk to. \n\n\"I'd like to get more actively involved in trade. I've been doing the same route for 5 years, making the same runs, and frankly... I'm bored. Your docks are lovely, but I want to do more.\" \n\nHe tried to leave all the messy parts of his frustration with his family out of it, keep it professional... Mostly."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nThe Pirate King looked up at Brandon Welles, placing the quill on the page of the ledger and clasping his hands. It was the first time the Pirate King provided him with all of his attention, \"Everyone in tha Isles, especially Araedians what come on vheir favher's boat are written about and recorded. We're a kingdom of ships. My men are tasked wiff collecting fees from every man vhat wants to stay. Simple business.\" The Pirate King bent over in his chair and grasped his cane up from off the ground. He stood from his desk and walked to the drink cart in the corner of the room. \"Speaking uff simple business, what do you fink you could do for me? I assume you're looking for a job in tha Bradai Maiff Trading Company, but I'm also confident in guessing vhat you know you didn't need to come to the King to ask for a position. What do you 'ave to offer?\" \n\nLeaning on the cane, the Pirate King knelt down and began to rummage through the cart for some glasses and a bottle. \"You seem like a man who drinks rum. You're certainly young enough for it, yeah? 'ave you ever 'ad ice?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nBrandon didn't really have a reaction to hearing that he was registered with them. Of course he didn't know what. When he came to the Isles he was a teenager who didn't care how the system worked. He just wanted to get drunk with whores. He scratched the back of his ear a little then adjusted in his seat, \"Of course.\" \n\nIt hit him then that even after he dismissed the old crew, Leon was paying for him to stay there. It irritated him, it was written all over his face. He was even more motivated to sever ties, pay his own damn dock fees. \n\nThe expression faded when The Pirate King stood, grabbing his cane to go get a drink. Brandon nodded at his question, \"I can get you access to the Erban port, no fees. That is good for you because things that go through Erba flow straight through to Araedia. My Father's been the guardian of that port for so long, it's trusted. What he brings in, ships out.\" Brandon sat back in the chair, putting one of his legs across the side really getting comfortable. \n\n\"You'll have access day or night to transport anything you like goods or people all under Queen Juliana's massive nose. I know she is no fan of outside product especially those coming from the Southern Isles. It's a nightmare bringing anything to Araedia for you, isn't it? I also read a little about you too, and I know how you like to keep track of things. How's it been trying to keep track of on your neighbor? Successful?\" He smirked, \"Let me help.\"\n\nWhen Bradai said he seemed like a man who drank rum he replied, \"At every opportunity.\" Brandon nodded about the ice, \"It's not necessary in my case. Slows me down.\"\n\nTobias and Thalia Alder.\nThe Western Shores of Alderport, The Southern Isles.\n\n_\"Tobiiiaaaaaaas!\"_\n\nTobias sighed, bringing up his hand to scratch at his head as he awkwardly glanced around the docks, hoping no one else could see his beaming sister waving and shouting at him from her incoming ship. All around him, men were lugging crates of goods into the mainland while others were stacking them up on ships to be sent to the poppy farms. It was a busy season for everyone, especially Thalia. Though, being in charge of their poppy fields was a good fit for her, and the stress that came with a booming industry and unpredictable weather never seemed to faze her. She loved being at sea, and the quiet those fields brought... Even if _she_ was anything but.\n\n\"Tobiaaaas! I'm back!\" Thalia called from her ship, waving her hand side-to-side in the air. She was holding onto the railing, donned in a long black coat and wearing a bright white blouse with ruffles in the front. She'd tanned, considerably, probably from monitoring the fields. \n\nTobias smiled to himself, despite his cheeks being red from embarrassment. _She looks happy, at least. That's good._\n\n\"I see that! I _hear_ it, as well!\" Tobias shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth and finally giving in to his sister's goofy antics. He eventually swung his hands down, chuckling and placing them on his hips. It made no sense to try and shout over the lapping sea, but then, there was no making sense of Thalia.\n\nWhen the ship docked, Thalia hoisted herself up onto the ledge and swung herself onto the gangplank. In just a few strides, she was running down the docks, her arms outstretched. She leapt into her twin brother's arms, making him stagger back and laughing all the while.\n\n\"Ohhh I missed ye, Tobias,\" She sighed, smiling up at him. The young woman tilted her head, one corner of her mouth raising playfully. \"Oi.. Is that an extra freckle you've grown?\"\n\nTobias laughed, ruffling her hair and nudging her away. \"You're one to talk. What brings ya back so early?\"\n\nThalia shrugged, brushing past her brother and walking off the docks. Her crew unloaded her things behind her, a few attendants rushing to follow behind.\n\n\"Rhiander sent a pigeon my way, said that we may be having an important visitor. So, I packed all I could in a hurry and boarded the next ship to the mainland,\" Thalia said. She gazed up at the sky, watching as seagulls coasted in the salty breeze. As much as she loved the farms, there was truly nothing like home.\n\n\"Interesting..\" Tobias muttered. He followed after Thalia, glad that his face wasn't in her view. _Why wouldn't Rhiander tell_ me? \n\n\"Whoever it is, I'm just glad ta have a reasonable excuse to be home! It feels like I've been gone fer ages!\" Thalia said, looking back at Tobias momentarily. Noticing the look on his face, her voice softened.\n\n\"Oh, cheer up. Rhiander's a busy man, as are you. You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Mirajane's betrothal ceremony coming up,\" Thalia said.\n\n\"I suppose you're right,\" Tobias said, yawning as he stretched his arms over his head. He'd ditched the formal commander jacket for a casual long-sleeved shirt, buttoned up. As the pair approached their horses, the young man smirked and looked over to his sister.\n\nThalia did the same, lifting her chin. \"Ye sure you're in shape for a race? Yer lookin' a little tubby, since the last time I saw ya!\"\n\nTobias laughed. \"I consider _that_ a challenge.\"\n\n\"Glutton fer punishment, are ye?\" Thalia retorted.\n\nAnd then, in a flurry of more insults and taunts, the twins mounted their steeds and raced back toward the estate, pushing the horses as quickly as they could go."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nThe Pirate King turned around, having left his cane at the drink cart. He seemed to walk fine without it. In his hands were two drinks, white rum with a rind of lemon and honey. \"Yeah, well, you talk a good game.\" He passed it across the desk before falling back into his seat, drink perfectly still in his grasp. \"I've met a lot uff people vhat talk a really great game, mate. What I want is for you to prove to me vhat you can get my shipments to where vhey need to go. Funny fing about Araedians, I'm sure you can attest, is vhat vhey fink vhey're smarter vhen me. So when you come into my office, telling me vhat you'll 'and over your family's ancestral 'ome for river travel, no fees and no inspections on cargo, I feel as if I'm being—\" He let his free hand vaguely gesture, as if he was summoning up the word, \"_Gamed._ I feel like I'm being taken for a ride, yeah? So 'ere's what I need.\" He took a long draw from the glass and sighed, \"I need to _not_ feel gamed. I want somefing, somefing vhat'll prove to me vhat you're willing to commit.\"\n\nThe Pirate King opened one of his desk drawers and produced a chest, dark wood, no larger then a jewelry box. It was held shut by a simple metal clasp, that could be undone at a moment's notice. \"Vhere is a broffel across town. I've 'eard reports uff a store owner giving my men trouble when vhey come to collect taxes. Go in, find 'im, hand 'im vhis box. If anyone asks about tha box, tell vhem it's yours. You did not get it from me. Do not man 'andle it, you need to 'old it and 'old it steady. And, for the love of tha Gods, ***Do not open it.***\" He, almost with an air of nervousness, handed the box across the table. \"You're going to watch 'im open tha box, and when you come back, we'll talk about getting you a job. You do vhis for me and uh...\" The Pirate King glanced at the box in the boy's lap, \"We can get to work.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nMain Office, The Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nBrandon took the drink. He stared at the lemon rind in the glass for a moment before he drank it. He clearly liked it because he finished it in nearly one breath then all he could do was stare at the glass for a second. He could drink about 10 of them, but not wasn't the time to put his vices on display. \n\nHe listened as Bradai said he felt like he was being gamed. He could understand it. He didn't imagine that normal families put themselves in this sort of situation often, so of course he'd be suspicious. He nodded, \"I understand. How can I prove it?\" \n\nHe tapped his fingers against the glass as the box was produced. It wasn't anything spectacular, but the moment he said not to open it, it was all he could think about. He snapped out of it to hear about the brothel, his kind of place, and the owner giving them a hard time about collecting taxes. \"They're often more than a little ridiculous about their prices,\" He said with a short laugh. \"I always assumed they'd be more than happy to pay their bills, but of course not.\" \n\nHe reached for the box before was very sternly instructed not to open it. His eyes widened for a second, \"Alright.\" He took it carefully from The Pirate King and sat it on his lap. Bran smiled when he said they can get to work, \"Looking forward to it. I'll return when the box is delivered.\" \n\nHe placed his glass on the desk then stood up, holding the box out in front of him. \n___\n\nOnce outside the three members of the crew he'd showed up with approached him, \"Fukin' hell. Vought ya got swallowed alive.. Vhat 'appened\" Brandon smirked keeping the box tight under his arm, \"He sent me to a brothel.\" \n\nThe three of them exchanged confused glances then followed Bran back to the ship."
},
{
"author": "loonay_",
"message": "Loonay de Silva\nTonate Docks\n\nHe covered her with his girth, his weight took all the breath out of her lungs. She gasped for air, pushing feebly against his chest. This was a dire situation for her indeed, her skills were useless against brute strength. He slid one hand next to her face and used it to push himself up enough to press the other hand around her neck and squeezed.\n\nHer gasping turned to croaks as her air was cut off.\n\n\"MmMmm I love it when the make that sound\" He whispered in her ear. \n\nHe bit her hard on the earlobe, the pain cleared her oxygen starved mind for just a moment, his sour breath washing over her face as he licked her cheek. His face loomed over hers and suddenly she recognized him, Imal's quartermaster. He must have followed her, waiting for an opportunity like this. She would gladly make him regret it, if she got the chance. Her vision began to darken as the lack of air began to steal the life out of her. He pushed up on his free hand slightly and moved his knee between her legs. He shifted his weight to the hand around her neck and she croaked with the pain as he moved his free hand towards the laces of his breeches. She heard someone shout in the distance but couldn't make out the words. He seemed not to hear.\n\nShe felt something hard press into her hip and a wave of revolution washed over her before she realized it was her salvation. He was on top of her at a slight angle and her right hand that had been beating and scratching at him was free from the elbow down. She reached for the hard object and sent a prayer to the Dark Lord as her hand grasped a hilt. He shifted, taking his weight on his knees as her resistance faded. He was positioning himself, ready to begin. His eyes on her hips, his laces undone, his free hand fumbling with the hem of the dress Imal had given her. Little more than a shift with a slim length of rope at the waist. He was not looking at her face.\n\n\"Fuck you Imal, you should have shared your toys, I'll slit your throat and spill all that pretty blood when I take your ship\" He muttered to himself, almost as if he had forgotten she was even there. Little more that a pair of legs.\n\nIn that moment, as he rose slightly above her, lining himself up, her shoulder was freed. She pulled the curved blade from its sheath and flipped it in her hand. He felt the sudden movement and released her neck, trying to block the incoming blade, but she was swift in her vengeance. The blade pierced his jaw and protruded through his teeth. He let out a garbled scream and clawed at his mouth, lifting up on his knees and freeing her. She held fast to the blade as she pulled her legs under her, following him. She tugged on the blade, cutting into his jaw and tongue, blood pouring from his mouth. She took deep breaths, pain radiating from her throat with each gasp. The world swam but her grip stayed firm, she pulled again and he lost his balance, falling to his hands, like an animal on all fours. She crouched before him now, staring into his wide, fearful eyes.\n\n\"Neverr touch a Shadowman. Vhen you meet ze Darrk Lord, tell 'im, Loonay stille serrves\" She whispered, then with one great tug she tore the blade through his jaw and teary, ruining his face. She ended his screams with one swift stroke, he landed face down in the mud, his breeches at his knees, his rump in the air.\n\nShe was covered in blood, but she still wiped the blade clean on a dry patch of her dress. It had been crimson to begin with but now it was damp. As she tucked the blade into her belt she realized a beautiful woman stood at the entrance to the alley, staring at her with wide eyes. Loonay nodded and waited to see what the woman would do, ready to chance after her if need be."
},
{
"author": "kingfang3330179",
"message": "Roland Nailo\nTonate Docks\n\n*Roland would round the corner, seeing the death. His hand went to his sword as he jogged up and looked at the dead man*\n\"Why is it I always miss the chance to help?"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nA brothel in Tornate Proper \n\nThe box was sitting on Kichea's vanity while Brandon slid on his boots. It was torture... Looking at that thing without opening it. It was such a delicate little clasp. What could possible be in it? He couldn't come up with one answer that made sense. Realistically, no one would know if he just took a little look. He lowly growled, turned away from the box to his drink sitting on the floor beside his boots. His door opened a few seconds later. It was pure chaos happening on the other side of it. One of his older crew members poked his head in and Brandon could hardly hear him with all the commotion, \"Can't keep em' waitin' no more! Move yur arse!\" Brandon laughed, \"Close my damn door!\" He figured it might be a fun night for the lot of them, so he invited all 15 men along with him to deliver the box. \n\nWhen they walked off the ship there were knights waiting, and that wasn't out of the ordinary. They usually just let you by if you weren't obvious more of a psycho than anyone else on the Isles. A majority of the crew went along without question, but a knight held out his arm and stopped Brandon from walking with an open palm to his chest. \n\nBrandon had the box under his arm still, and nearly dropped it before he got a grip on it like his life depended on it. Irritated Bran barked, \"What's the problem?!\" The Knight removed his hand then pointed at the box. \"Whass in it?\" Brandon scoffed, \"A present for your Mother. I'm visiting a brothel tonight, she's my favorite.\" The knight seemed unphased, \"Vhere's poisonin' happenin' all ova the Isles. Whass in da damn box, ya bastard?\"\n\nBrandon's expression changed from irritated to serious, \"The gold I plan on paying the brothel with. I'm paying for all 15 of my crew. I'd show you, but not on the docks in the middle of the night. This ain't my first time on the Isles.\" The knight looked over him the gestured with his head for him to pass. \n\nBrandon swallowed hard once he walked by and carried the box a little more carefully.\n__\n\nFeeling uncomfortable in a brothel was a foreign feeling, but with the box to protect he was very near to it. His crew of course made themselves right at home. With that amount of activity all at once, the owner emerged nearly immediately. The brothel seemed to be the type to want a certain kind of customer, Bran's crew was not it. \n\n\"EXCUSE ME!\" He screamed above the voiced of the men and the girls. \"Excuse me,\" He said more politely when he got the attention he wanted. \"With this large of a group, we'll need to ensure payment.\" \n\nBrandon was sitting at a table, the box right in front of him. \"Address those concerns to me,\" He said waving the man over. \"These men are members of my crew,\" He said while dropping a handful of gold on the table. \"I'd like to ensure their satisfaction before I give you any more.\"\n\nThe mere presence of any gold made the owner relax, \"Of course, M'Lord. I have no doubt my girls will um... Fit their needs.\" He looked over to the girls, \"Carry on, Ladies.\" Brandon yelled at the crew, \"Oi! Enjoy yourselves, but we ain't staying all night!\"\n\n___\n\nThe night passed far too quickly for anyone's liking, and the owner stood by the door as the last crew member left to return to the ship. Brandon hadn't moved from the table, and the owner kept an eye on him all night.\n\n\"Right this way, M'Lord. I don't do business in front of the girls.\" Brandon looked around. None of the girls were to be found, but he didn't really care where the man opened the box. He hesitated for a second though.. \"M'LORD! This. Way.\" Bran wrinkled his eyebrow, \"Settle down. I'm coming.\" He picked up the box then walked into the owner's office.\n\n____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________\n\n\nKichea\nTonate docks, The Southern Isles \n\nKichea watched the whole fight through her fingers. In her wildest dreams, she didn't image it would end that way. She lowered her hands from her face when the woman turned her glance towards her. \"Well,\" She looked at the man laying dead on the ground. \"Vhat'll show em'...\" She took a step forward towards the woman when a man came running around the corner. \n\nShe giggled at his question, \"You outta see somebody 'bout dat.\" \n\nShe walked over to the woman, smoothing down her hair a bit. \"You okay, Little Dove?\""
}
] | 450 | 6,636 |
180.333333 | 2019-03-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "loonay_",
"message": "Loonay de Silva\nTonate docks\n\nLoonay quickly grabbed the hilt of her new daggar and took a defensive stance. He rushed into the alley, weapon drawn but he slowed as he got close enough to see the carnage. She stared at the large, armor clad, fast talking man. She had no idea what he was saying but his voice was gentle, his eyes looked from the dead man, to her, to the dead man. He turned back to the woman at the alley head, then back to her. This was going to be harder than she thought. \n\nThe woman approached her gently, arms out, hands and wrists exposed, and she spoke softly. Her eyes were kind and her smile was disarming. Loonay could feel some of the tension in her sholders release, but then the woman patted her on the head. Without thinking Loonay had the daggar in her hand and rolled away from the two newcomers. \n\nAt a crouch she said firmly \"No!' Imal had stressed that one to her, but she wasnt sure if she had it right so she tried again, \"No.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Kichea\nTonate docks, The Southern Isles \n\nKichea held her hands up, totally frozen as the woman brandished a dagger then rolled away. \n\nShe was absolutely terrified, but with a strange man nearby so eager to save someone... She felt like she could interact with the woman. Her heart broke for the poor thing crouching on the street. She tilted her head to the side then crouched down too, not touching the stones. She was wearing a loose fitting dark green dress. The hem had holes cut out in she shape of flowers. It was comfortable, low cut, made for the Isles. She also wore a gold cuff around her upper right arm, but quite a few thinner bracelets on her left. She had a natural golden glow to her skin, and her long black hair fell over one shoulder. With her crouching, her long hair nearly scraped the dirt. \n\nShe pulled off one of the thinner gold bracelets and held it out in front of her. It was made of hammered gold, had a pink hue to it when looked at compared to other pieces of gold. \"Come 'ere..\" She said with a smile. \"A dress like vhat needs some beauty.\""
},
{
"author": "loonay_",
"message": "Loonay de Silva\nTonate Docks\n\nLoonay starred at the gold bangle being offered to her. The only time she had ever warn jewelry was when her husband had come to her in the harem, but there was something calming about this woman. Loonay did not see a weapon anywhere on the womans body and while her movements seemed very self aware, she didnt move light someone who knew how to take a life. Loonay stood, flipped the daggar, and sheathed it. She slowly approached and reached out gently, taking the bangle and slipping it onto her wrist. It was cold, and the weight felt foreign. But she forced a smile and said thanks in her native tongue. \n\nShe then just kind of stood there, rocking from heel to toe, looking from the man to the woman, the body at their feet forgotten. She knew she needed to get inside this warehouse, but didn't think these people should see her climb up to the window, so she waited to see what they would do."
},
{
"author": "kingfang3330179",
"message": "Roland Nailo\nTonate Docks\n\nRoland would look between the two, when he perked up, hearing a group of footsteps jogging their way. He would rest his hand on his sword as a group of guards were headed their direction\n\"And here we go...\""
},
{
"author": "remus__",
"message": "Krujen Kl'ufir Marcusson\nTonate docks, aboard a small Knarr.\n\nHe stares at the shore, then at the docks. He directed the sails and loosened some ropes. This was his last stop until he could stack up on game and apply for some temp jobs.\n\nAfter setting ashore, he dropped anchor and tied the rope to a wooden base. He adjusted his obscured face and made sure the teddy bear around his waist was secure. He fiddles with his lute before letting it hang around his shoulders. He strode into Tonate Proper and prepared for some questioning and scared looks from the locals.\n\n—\nKrujen Kl'ufir\nTonate Proper\n\nPanting slightly from the humidity and heat, He lowered the cloth under his nose and heaved a small sigh relief. He would have to ditch the masklike thing entirely if he didn't want to suffer at all. He kept walking, avoiding eye contact completely. He checked a scrapbook that was attached to his side, he murmured to the book, fiddling with some paintings.."
},
{
"author": "loonay_",
"message": "Loonay de Silva\nTonate Docks\n\nLoonay heard the heavy steps of armed men as she saw Roland turn, blade drawn. She threw one last glance at the window above, but it was closed now. There was definatly someone inside, but she would have to come back later when he heat was gone. \n\nShe reached out her hand to the woman and said \"Come\". Ready to rush down the alley in the opposite direction from the incoming guards. \"Ve go!\" She shouted at the large man."
}
] | 218 | 1,082 |
557 | 2019-03-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Head Advisor Dimitri Novikov\n\nThe Fun in Cider Brothel, Tonate Proper.\n\nDimitri Novikov did not own a brothel, he recognized that it was on old person's game. He had seen first hand exactly how quickly the patience of a brothel mother could wear down, and although he had patience for scullery maids and gardeners, he did _not_ have the patience to take care of fifteen some wayward girls. He would _especially_ not own the Fun in Cinder brothel. Not only would he never own a brothel with such a terrible name, but it was practically built onto the docks. Good for the wayward horndog sailor, he assumed, not so much for the average purveyor of pleasure, who were more often then not turned off by the putrid smell of the fish mongers. That and they didn't even sell cider. They served mulled berry wine, and although the majority of it's clientele didn't seem to mind, the real owner of the establishment assured him that she received a question about it every other day. It would have been enough to properly do his head in.\n\nWhen Brandon Welles entered \"His\" Office, Dimitri placed his feet up on the desk. A girl with breasts exposed stood off to the side of the room, shifting from side to side. \n\n\"I'm telling you—\" Dimitri waved Brandon to come towards the desk and past the girl, \"They're not uneven. You _know_ the reason you're not getting tipped adequately, Fola. I don't _care_ if your the only one in your family with perfectly straight teeth. You're using them too much.\"\n\nThe woman upon noticing Brandon's presence, undid her wild back hair and let it spill over her chest. \"Who's dis vhen?\" She asked, nodding to the Araedian. \"Because vheres no fuckin' way I'm practicing on 'im. It demeaning, and I'm not about t—\" \n\nDimitri Novikov simply pointed to the door in response, \"Take your shirt and leave, Fola.\" \n\nWith a huff, she complied, leaving the too in the room alone. \n\n\"You have something for me?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nThe Fun in Cider Brother, Tonate Proper\n\nBrandon held onto the box as he walked in the office. The girl in the corner didn't make much of a difference to him, especially because of the conversation he walked in on. He held the box securely, but he chuckled a bit at their back and forth. Brandon had only met Bradai himself and Ollie thus far. He had absolutely no idea who Dimitri Novikov was, so he had no hesitations about giving him a box of what he could only guess was poison.\n\nBran scoffed when the woman seemed offended at the thought of practicing on him. \"As if I would let you,\" He teased then playfully snapped his teeth at her as she left the room. \n\nHe turned his focus back to the owner, \"If you are the owner of this establishment.\" He held up the box, \"This is for you.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Head Advisor Dimitri Novikov\nThe Fun in Cinder Brothel, Tonate Proper\n\nDimitri Novikov nodded, \"So you're Brandon Welles?\" The Head Advisor smiled and placed a hand on his chin, \"Yeah. Looks about right. Not that it wouldn't be fitting for an Araedian provincial's son to send a shitblood to...\" He shrugged. \n\n\"Before we begin, let me apologize. Typically, we just do it right in the office, but seeing as how he's just arrived, and it'll be easier to get you both off of the island—\" Dimitri unlatched the jewelry case and removed the hand crossbow. He nonchalantly pointed it at Brandon's chest and pulled the trigger. \n\nA small dart lodged itself into his chest, just under his right collarbone. \"Fuck, my aim.\" Dimitri sat back and shook his head. \"Imagine if I had _missed!_ I am legally permitted to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, you won't be harmed beyond that little prick, and it'll heal in about a day or so. You wouldn't be able to distinguish it from a mosquito bite. Well, at any rate, you have about thirty seconds to say anything you want. Any famous last words?\" He smirked, snapping his teeth at Brandon before standing up from the desk and beginning to pack up his things."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\nThe Fun in Cider Brother, Tonate Proper\n\n\"The one and only,\" He responded to being asked his name. He laughed when he said it wouldn't be a surprise if he'd just sent a shitblood, \"If I thought like that, I wouldn't be here.\" He was trying to contain his excitement, but Brandon never did learn to control his face outside of a card game. He was smiling a bit when Dimitri apologized. He tilted his head to the side a bit, confused, like a puppy. He laughed shortly when he said it would be easier to get them both off the island and the crossbow was pointed at him ,\" Fuck...\" The dart hit him in his chest and he screamed because being shot at that close range definitely wasn't comfortable. \n\nHe looked at the dart as it stuck out his shoulder basically... At least it wasn't any lower. He pulled it out then threw it to the floor before he looked over at Dimitri when he asked him if he had any last words.\"Yeah learn to fuckin' shoot you fu...\" His eyes rolled shut, he was unable to finish his sentence, and within seconds his body thudded against the floor."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Head Advisor Dimitri Novikov\n\nUndisclosed Location, The Southern Isles\n\nDimitri shook his fork at Uriel Python, \"You're _not_ wrong. This IS the best way to drink wine.\" He set it beside the plate of pasta and picked up his glass, swirling it in the light of the window behind his dinner guest.\n\nFor everything that went on in the Southern Isles, there was something to said about the natural beauty. When it wasn't raining mercilessly, the sunsets were absolutely gorgeous. Dimitri threw his left leg on top of his right and drank the rest of the Terresolian wine like a proper dandy. \"How are you enjoying the Isles? It was a close shave when we rescued you from those Terresolian knights. Slavery catches a high fee around those parts.\" \n\n\"I was quite afraid when your King's pet approached me. You know how—\" Uriel searched for the word and chuckled, \"_unsavory_ he can be with nobles like us. You're Azaryan, you understand.\" \n\nDimitri shook his head, letting out a light chuckle as he brought the cusp of the glass to his lips. \"Mmm.\" Was all he could respond with. He gulped hard, finishing off the glass. He didn't really _need_ to get this drunk, but he preferred it. \"Quite. You said that this wine was brought over from your vineyard?\" \n\n\"Hah!\" Uriel responded as if he was releasing a baited breath, like he had been waiting for the question to be posed the whole night. \"Yes! It's not common for the people of the Isles to have _good_ wine, I've heard. Your weather is too humid to support wine. Such a shame. Truly.\" \n\nDimitri poured himself another glass. \"The King is right downstairs, by the way. He has been absolutely dying to meet you. Your island, while still being processed, will prove to be a valuable asset to the Southern Federation. It will make you a very wealthy man, Uriel.\"\n\nAt this notion, Uriel nearly lept out of his seat. \"Let's not waste any time, then.\" He quickly cleaned off of his hands with the napkin on his lap and folded it neatly next to his half emptied plate. \n\nIn nearly a single gulp, Dimitri finished off his third glass and lead the way him to the door from the balcony. The estate they were on was completely walled off from outside view, and as it were, completely abandoned. It was well furnished, perfectly dusted, but there were almost absolutely no signs that anyone had ever lived in it. The bowl in the center usually reserved for fruit was completely empty, the shelves unstocked, water basins unfilled. The gardens that lined the estate sported no flowers, just freshly tilled dirt. They made their way down the stairs and into the main foyer, making small talk all the while. \n\n\"Just in the basement.\" Dimitri noted, allowing the political prisoner to step into the cellar first. Uriel happily swung open the cellar door, and began to walk down the stairs. A foot was planted between his shoulder blades, sending him tumbling down the stairs. \n\n\"W-what?\" Uriel looked back up at Dimitri, just in time for two men to grab him by the arms and lug him out of sight. \n\n\"What a _prick._\" Dimitri muttered, making his way down the stairs. \"Uriel!\" Dimitri clapped his hands, leaning forward and making his way to where Uriel was being restrained to a chair. \"We have three ways of doing things in the Isles.\" A small stand was pushed up to the chair, and Dimitri began rifling through it. \"We can do things that will make you _wish_ we'd kill you, or we c—\"\n\n\"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM, YOU AZARYAN FUCK?!\" Uriel was already beginning to fight his bonds, \"When my men discover exactly what your Shitblood King is doing, all of the illegal trades, all of the tricky political games, well—\" He let out a laugh that was undoubtedly supposed to sound confident, but came out nervous, \"Oooh, oh everyone is gonna know that Shitbloods are all the same. All criminals, needing people like you, fucking _blood traitors_, to help them out. They're too stu—\"\n\n\"Uriel.\" Dimitri turned around, holding up a thin, metal rod. It came to a curved point, \"I don't know if I told you this or not but uh...\" He raised his eyebrows, nearly giggling with a profound glee, \"I'm an amature dentist.\" \n\nOne of the men from the back piped up. \"OOooooh yeah.\" \n\n\"I'm sorry.\" Uriel spoke, his voice now a harsh whisper. \n\n\"Tell us where the slaves are from, Uriel.\" \n\n\"I-I can't. M-my employer—\" \n\n\"Your _employer_ is the Pirate King Bradai Maith, and you have now just broken the law in withholding information on potential slave proliferers.\" The Advisor sauntered up to the Terresolian lord and leaned up on him, boot on the exposed part of the seat between his thighs. \"Should we use the pick or the hammer?\" \n\n\" 'ammer.\" The voice from the shadows replied. \n\n\"Zat's some good fucking shit.\" Dimitri smiled, grabbing it from the cart of instruments and putting it to good use.\n\nThis would progress would three hours, leaving the Lord battered and bruised, muscles tired from struggling against their bonds. The entire time, Brandon Welles would be positioned in a chair, concealed by darkness. The man in the dark had placed a hand on the Provincial's shoulder, and began to whisper in his ear. \n\n\"You 'ave to decide now wevher or not to do business wiff us. Vhis was a Lord in Terresol vhat sold slaves on our trade routes. 'e fought 'e was smart, Brandon. Fought 'e could play tha fuckin' game, vhat 'e was smarter vhan us. Vhis is what 'appens to geniuses. Prove to your favher vhat you're smarter vhen 'e finks you are.\" \n\n\"Th-there...\" Uriel muttered, \"J-just make sure my wife is safe.\" \n\n\"Your wife iz dead, Uriel. Reports say she stabbed herself wizza fireplace poker za moment you left. It vas pretty bloody.\" \n\n\"Kill me.\" He rasped. Dimitri was all too happy to accomodate his request. \n\nBrandon would feel a sharp prick on his shoulder, and about thirty seconds later, would awake in his bed with a sharp headache. \n\nOn his nightstand was a bouquet of poppy flowers and a card. \n\n\"Brandon,\n\nWe really did enjoy the dinner last night. Do yourself a favor and bury the package when you sail to Erba this weekend to discuss our arrival to your father. \n\nDon't get too smart.\" \n\nBeside him in bed was the disfigured body of Uriel Python, wrapped in a waterproof tarp."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Brandon Welles\n?????, The Southern Isles\n\nBrandon woke up slowly when Uriel's body tumbled down the stairs. His back was supported by the chair, but his head had tilted off to the side. He exhaled audibly, tried to sit his head up in a comfortable position, but every move felt foreign after being out of it for so long. His hearing cut out a few times over the next twenty minutes, slipping back under the haze of the dart and only picking up bits of their conversation. \n\nWhen he finally could open his eyes, the first few seconds his vision was blurry but he could clearly see a very gruesome scene happening right in front of him. His breathing got heavier as his vision cleared back to normal, and thoughts of *Am I next?* Swirled violently in his head. He sat up straight in his chair, and he wasn't restrained but a hand kept him in place. \n\nWhat he was witnessing was awful, but he couldn't look away as the man in the shadows spoke to him. He was silent, considering that he said then witnessed Uriel's death. His mind was completely blank when he felt the sharp prick. Besides flinching, he didn't react much to it because this time it was welcomed.\n\n________\nHe slowly opened his eyes back on board his ship. He was laying face down, head turned towards his bedside table. It took him a little while to feel mostly back to normal, but once he was fully awake he reached over to the table with a heavy arm and pulled the card over to read it. He rolled it into a ball and let it slide on the floor, \"Another fuckin' package...\" \n\nHe rolled over, bumping into the package beside him on the bed. He sat up quickly, sitting next to it for a while before he decided to just look for confirmation. After the last time, he didn't want anymore surprises. He unwrapped the tarp, hardly a half inch then immediately closed it and got out of bed.\n\nHalf a bottle of rum later, he was sitting across the room from the body just staring at it. That dead man was going to decide his entire future... Bran figured he might as well have a drink with him before he either joined him or buried him.\n\nA heavy knock on the door disturbed their bonding. Brandon opened the door just a crack, and it was a friendly face. It was Tresten, a member of his crew who was used to seeing Brandon look like hell but rarely that bad. The man didn't attempt to open the door or asked what's wrong. He only asked, \"Where we goin'?\"\n\nBrandon stared at him for a second, \"Erba.\" Tresten nodded then turned to walk away, but Brandon opened the door a little more. \"Oi!... No one comes with us but us. No whores, no stowaways. Everyone off... If Kichea's onboard, send her to me. Other than that, clean house. We'll leave at sunrise.\" Tresten furrowed his brow for a moment but ultimately decided he'd figure out what the hell was happening when they got there, \"I'll knock when she's clean.\" Brandon nodded then closed the door."
}
] | 375.5 | 3,342 |
575 | 2019-06-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Skull Throne, The Maith Mansion, The Southern Isles, Tonate Proper.\n\nHe had been signing up Privateers the entire day. Within hours of his return and the opening of the public to come and see him, every fisherman with a half decent oyster sloop was kneeling before him, asking for a job working on his docks, local and abroad alike. \n\nThe entrance to the throne room was littered with gifts. Baskets of fish, dried dolphins and sharks hoisted from ropes on the ceiling, ornate tapestries, open sacks of red and yellow spices, chests overflowing with iron and steel ingots. The ocean breeze blew the flowing teal curtains gently, leaving the entire place full of trade and salt. The Pirate King, with one leg over the other, had been addressing people the entire day. \n\nHe wore his hat instead of his crown, the long and flat black rim coming far beyond his face, shading it from the sunshine of his chambers. His copper beard well groomed, his black overcoat near spotless, save for the salt stains near the bottom ridge and over his long, leather boots. \n\nCaptain Salim was received outside the manor, changed into a simple set of pure white robes, and brought in with the three mullahs accompanying him. When the Pirate King would first pay no heed to the Amorothian in his presence. Even after all of this time, there was a silent resentment for the continent. But slowly, as his mind because to notice the small details in his guest, the unique turban, the pink stained facial hair, the acts of grandeur. \n\n\"Captain Salim, I presume?\" He ran a hand through his beard, leaning forwards to get a good look at him. \"Vhey say you can control tha winds. Which one of your mullahs 'as a God what can vouch for your...\" He chuckled, \"_special_ talent?\""
},
{
"author": "shizzen5773",
"message": "Salim Al-Akari\nThe Maith Mansion, The Southern Isles, Tonate Proper.\n\n\"If you wish for confirmation... I can have a blaze of lightning beset a city with a snap of my fingers good lord,\"\nFor proof, he snapped his fingers once and the rumble of an impending thunder storm could be heard outside. Realistically it had took a bit more planning than he showed. It wasn't the best place to summon a lightning storm due to it being a bit more inland than he'd prefer, with no major rainstorms incoming for the next few days. He had to slowly gather the moisture needed before calling down the thunder. He couldn't manifest a bolt either. He needed to be at sea or close for that kind of power. Or he needed a shit ton more days of preperation. Point is, it was a bluff.\n\"Perhaps you'd like a light drizzle of rain instead? To feed crops?\"\nHe snapped his fingers once more, allowing the cloud to drop a bit of its rain as a light drizzle, causing pitter patter right outside the window, indeed only one side, showing his control. \n\"Or perhaps a scorching hot day? Let the sun embrace your bones,\" \nNow here was the real trick. He moved the cloud from over the building allowing hot sun rays through, striking all within with heat, moving his right hand over his left one to illustrate the movement.\n\"I control far more than the winds milord. The weather and the ocean are mere toys in my hands,\"\n\nHe then put his hands back into their normal position and did a showmans bow. He was a pirate after all... And granduer was expected. He would have already made it clear how different he was from most amorothians, merely by the fact he commanded woman outside of battle. \n\"If proof is still required, I believe Stocks here can oblige,\" \nThe massive iron clad man stood forward, tattoos gleaming in the light as he waited for orders."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion Throne Room, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles.\n\nThe Pirate King had seen magic. The Pit was impenetrable, but nevertheless it was clear that the King of the Islanders grew up in Amoroth. Lira, specifically. He never knew how deep in he was, but he recognized that any farther south, and he would've been able to see the end of the world, or whatever lay beyond the whipping sand storms of the Yellow Sea. Just as often as there were rapists and thieves put to work, there were magic users, tattooed and pierced, bruised and bloodshot, whispering words, incantations, prayers of protection and warding. It often did nothing to protect them from picks and rocks once the other slaves discovered who they were. There were some, some that could provide heat, or make their way using an ability, or murder the right person to stay in the Pit, and it was from those people he had seen magic from. Blood sacrifice, child sacrifice, dancing shadows, scar painting, glyphery, snake heading, hauntings. He had only ever seen one curse ever truly get placed. Shadows pushing a murderous slaver from a high bridge and into the quarry was no act of divine intervention. It was a covenant made in blood.\n\nSalim's parlor tricks were not magic. \n\n\"You made it rain 'ere. It rains 'ere constantly. My people do not dress me in furs, Cap'tin. Vhey dress me in leavher, marked wiff salt and torn wiff age. Your timing, 'owever, is charming. It _is_ a good trick to show a King.\" He placed a hand on the top of his head and removed his sunhat, setting it down on the desk he had placed in front of the throne. Almost immediately, the widows were closed, and the sound of crossbows locking into place cascaded from the upper balcony. It was not exactly dark, but the room was now shady, and as the firestone began to cool, so did the atmosphere in the room.\n\n\"You do understand that tha BMTC forbids magic. It says noffink about high ranking members of my Trading Company to be magic users, _'owever_ it does mean vhat in tha list of people vhat 'ate you, some magic users will be among vhem. And if you protect me, I will protect you. You will 'ave to abandon your ties to any magic groups, cults, bar the infrequent trip to a temple, or whenever necessary. You fly under my flag, you are loyal to vhat flag. You can pray to any God you so desire, pick whatever Mainland you like. All of the Pantheon can claim you as vheir champions, I 'ave no quarrel wiff you. So long as you work for me, and not for anyone else. \"\n\nHe cleared his throat and pulled out a large ledger from his desk. It required two hands to lift, and with a heavy puff of dust and parchment, it spilled open, heavy pages unfurling. \"I allow tha people vhat meet wiff me personally stake vheir claims wiff me. We'll do it tha Old Islander way.\" \n\nThe Old Islander way of making a deal was simple. The one making the deal would tell the Patriarch, or in this place the King, how much money they wanted to earn from this venture. They would then tell the Patriarch just how much they would be willing to give up for them to achieve this goal, in bodyparts or in present possessions. If the deal with unsatisfactory to any party, they could reassess, and then leave. When directly making a deal with the Pirate King, most didn't bother saying how much money they would expect from the venture. The King of the Southern Isles never bought on parchment what he couldn't buy in coin. Most went right for the torture, or immolation they hoped they would receive if they betrayed him.\n\n\"Go on vhen, Stocks? Is it?\" Bradai placed on his reading glasses and dipped a thick place plume into his inkwell, filling his name on The List. \"Just 'ow far would you go for tha richest I could afford to you? 'ow far would you let yourself be sold to your Captain? What kind uff a fire does 'e inspire in you?\""
}
] | 407 | 1,725 |
273.4 | 2019-07-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Spymaster Irene Kelly\nCoast of Serana, the Karsts\n\n\"Ah was wrong.\" Irene said, puffing hard on the cigar that hung out the side of her mouth. \n\n\"Do you really fink she'll be 'ere, ma'am?\" The group of Federation Guards buzzed around her, setting up the camp deep into the wood line. Irene had requested that there be no fire. She was the only one permitted to make smoke. Catspaw didn't know her, not well anyways, but she had been around her long enough. After a string of burglaries in Jotun, Irene had searched long and hard just to locate her safehouse, only to find it emptied of all the stolen belongings. The very same been turning up in these local markets. \n\n\"Ah'v got no fuckin' clue. Shay coud be anywhere. Tha Karsts are a spot dese people use to hide out. Ah think we'll just waet for 'er, and if she comes—\" The Spymaster removed the spyglass from her left eye and then from her hooked hand, placing it in her belt. \"She'll see us comin' fer sure.\" She smiled, cutting off the tip of her cigar with her hook and stuffing it in a pocket of her overcoat. \"Load up three boats. All of ya bring crossbows and machetes. She's across tha water.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia Lyanah \nThe sea, heading to Tonate\n\nShe hoped the Captain was right, death was not on her agenda for when she arrived to the Southern Isles. Giving her a small smile, Cecilia nodded her head as she listened to Caliss, not sure if she could help herself from attacking but would do her best to prevent from doing so. \"As long as he doesn't attack me, I guess I can promise not to.\" \n\nTaking slow strides towards her, Cecilia eyed the beverage she poured herself and wondered how it would feel to be intoxicated. Perhaps the same way it felt when she killed someone, euphoric and filled with pleasure. Hell, she enjoyed it so much that it turned her on when she held someone's throat between her teeth. \"So this is what you do to make a living? You sell pleasure to men, murder slavers before taking their loot and hand the freed slaves over for a bounty. If I manage to leave Tonate without Toula taking control then I may just make myself comfortable. It sounds like the perfect job besides the harloting *And* I won't be left hungry.*"
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Caliss Goldmane\nThe Seas off Tonate\n\nCaliss smiled at her, \"I'll hold your habd or something so you'll have to tear my arm off to attack him.\" She winked at the shifter, a jest, she knew and respected the shifter's dislike of human touch. \n\nAs Bella approached Caliss was reminded of the predatory grace and beauty, \"Gods,\" She breathed softly into her glass before downing her glass and pouring them both another. She held the glass out Bella, \"Ah be nice to the girls, they're doing what they love. But yes... This is how I make a living, prostitutes and hunting slavers. There's also trading in the loot I get off'em.\"\n\n\"I do hope you stay, maybe being around ypur fellow women will help to soothe Toula.\" She seemed hopeful but doubted it would work, \"Of she is a separate consciousness though perhaps I could... Make a suggestion to her.\" Caliss said, subtly tapping her eye patch as she took another drink. \"Though if she hears everything you do my eye won't work on her either... Not that I'd use it without your permission anyway.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia Lyanah\nTonate Waters \n\nTaking the glass, Cecilia eyed the liquid inside before putting it to her lips to taste. It was quite bitter for the shifter but downed it anyways, pretending for the moment that she did have the ability to become drunk. \"This is me being nice.\" \n\nAs they spoke of Toula, Cecilia felt her lips purse into a thin line as she recalled Caliss's own ability before letting out a doubtful sigh. \"I wish that was possible but I honestly don't know when she is listening to our conversation or not. She hasn't given any snarky remarks so far, though it may be best we don't mention your ability until we don't have a choice but to use it on her.\" \n\nGod was she glad Toula hadn't gone on a full rant about this Captain as she would about anyone else. Taking another sip, Cecilia wondered what Toula's thoughts would be regarding the woman in front of her. She enjoyed Caliss's company so far but wouldn't want to risk finding out for herself. \"So how did you come across becoming a Captain of the.. Temptress was it?\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Caliss Goldmane\nTonate waters\n\nCaliss drank a bit from her glass and listened carefully to Bella's words. Nodding at her wisdom regarding the mention of Caliss' ability she resolved to atleast try it if ever Toula made a move. \n\n\"My father built the Temptress for me after I returned from the voyage that earned me this eye. I have been her one and only Captain, I recruited the whores and crew from freed slaves and fishing villages then trained them in the art of naval combat and such. It has been wonderful, difficult but I love it.\" She swirled her wine and sighed, \"I've thought of retiring in the future... Buying a big manor and living to a ripe old age. But, my love is the sea and my crew.\" She downed her glass and poured herself another, downing half again.\n\nThere was a pounding at the door, \"Coming into Tonate proper Captain!\" Caliss responded by chugging down several gulps of wine from the bottle and then finishing her glass. \"Bastard better not try to make me become a privateer. I've told his Lackies that I'm a merchant vessel *Not* A pirate ship.\" She set her glass down and kept hold of the half full bottle as the ship came to a halt. \n\nShe went to her cabin door and pulled it open, \"Get those free-folk ready and start rounding up the cargo! Half the crew may go ashore today, the rest of you business as usual! Those that work today go ashore tomorrow!\" \n\n\"C'mon Bella,\" She held out her hand with a playful smile. She apparently wanted to see if Bella would hold her hand, outside the freed slaves were gathering with excited chatter."
}
] | 241 | 1,367 |
152.25 | 2019-08-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTornate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nLord Phillipe arrives at Tornate Proper, and leaves his ship, paying a Pirate 50 gold coins for its safety. He then takes his escort of guards towards the Maith Mansion, while getting some weird looks from the commoners, certainly unused to lords being in tornate. After making his way through the crowds Phillipe Entered the Maith Mansion and requested an Audience with the Pirate King\n\nWhat's with the long wait\n\nLike literally half an hour"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Yeah...\" He muttered, \"And just little to tha left vhere...\" He narrowed his eyes, watching as the elaborate oil painting of Tonate Proper was placed above his library fireplace. Two sets of ladders had been set up on either side of the hearth, the massive frame hoisted up with ropes. The scene was beautifully done, matching the view from his own bedroom window at sunset. He clapped his hands together the moment the ropes were removed and the painting was set firm on it's hinges, smiling wide. \"Not bad, boys! Not bad at all!\" \n\nBradai Maith had been enjoying a rarely found day off. He had assumed that it was a clerical error, but his secretary had assured him that the sparse amount of letters and ledgers for him to review was entirely by providence. Whether or not that was true, the Pirate King had decided not look to a gift horse in the mouth. \n\n\"A drink to commemorate a fine piece of artwork?\" Dimitri Novikov sidled up to the Pirate King, who wordlessly supplicated an upturned hand to receive the glass of dark rum and brought the glass to his lips. The head advisor pointed to the man in the corner, leaning over the balcony to admire the ocean shore. \"Is that...\" He squinted, \"Is that _you_ in that painting, Bradai? Looking forlorn out into the distance?\" He lifted the back of his hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh. \"I have never _once_ seen you stare longingly out into the sea.\"\n\nThe Pirate King hadn't been listening. \"Isn't art incredible, Dimitri? Just...\" He moved to speak, but could hardly vocalize his pleasure. \"Absolutely incredible.\" He had found his way to his large leather chair, just in time for the door to be opened a crack and for a sparely armored squire to be pushed into the room. With spear taken at the door, he quickly ran before the Pirate King, taking a knee before him.\n\n\"Y-your Grace I... I 'ate to bovher you on yer day off but uh...\" The boy was breaking a sweat, clearly out of breath. \"On 'e'alf of Ser Williams uff tha Tonate Proper city watch, vhere is a Terresolian Lord out on tha street. 'e... 'e was...\" He bent over further, placing a hand on his bent knee to huff out the rest of the news. \n\n\"What's wiff tha long wait, boy?\" The Pirate King hadn't been expecting anyone today. \n\nThe boy winced, unsure as to how to relay the rest of the news. \" 'e murdered two or fhree men on tha way 'ere. One-uh dem a notable blacksmiff what was assigned to make tha riding gear for the most recent regiment uff riders. 'e's on 'is way to tha castle and 'e uh...\"\n\n\"...Yes?\" The Pirate King pursed his lips into a foul sneer. \n\n\" 'e said 'e wants an audience wiff you.\" \n\nThe Pirate King crushed the glass in his palm, sending shards of glass and rum into his lap.\n\nThe Pirate King, with hand freshly bandaged, found his way into his throne room. Resting uncomfortably in his skull laden throne, he called for Phillipe de Capet to be let in. \n\nThe King's audience broke out into mad jeering, doing all short of throwing rotten tomatoes at the Lord's entrance."
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTornate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\nWith a flick of his hand his guards show their swords, making the crowd quiet down. He then goes towards the Pirate King, and entering his room with 2 bodyguards. Seeing Bradai Maith very annoyed, on the verge of having a fit, he starts talking \"Oh, is this all about that Blacksmith? Because if so I will send you a set of Riding gear for free of better quality if it will make you happy\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nStunned. \n\n\"I—\" He squinted, leaning forwards to get a better look at the Terresolian. \"Who _are_ you?\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTornate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n\"I am Lord Phillipe de Capet, the rightful ruler of Stafili, and I have come to negotiate a trade deal between our realms\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, ***TONATE*** Proper\n\n\"Yeah... Yeah, you fucking are, aren't you?\" He inhaled deeply, lips curled over his teeth in thinly veiled anger. From atop the raised platform, he looked down at the Lordsblood. \"And you've come to my _fucking_ court, wiffout taking a _fucking_ knee, wiffout addressing me by my _fucking_ title, fhreatening my _fucking_ court wiff your _fucking_ men, murdering my _fucking_ people in my _fucking_ streets and...\" He raised his hands, exasperated, \"And offer me a _fucking_ SADDLE AS RECOMPENSE?!\" \n\nHe stood from his throne and spit on the ground. \"And where tha _FUCK_ is Stafili anyways?!\" He pointed to the glob of spit next to his booted foot. \"Vhis fucking spit is 'igher vhen you right now. I spit fings more powerful vhan you. So yeah—\" Bradai angrily began to pace, summoning up fifteen guards from their positions on the walls. \"Yeah, actually. I do fink vhis is tha beginning uff a beautiful _fucking_ partnership. Would you like to be escorted to my fucking office?\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n**\"What would you like then** ***Your Grace*** **One thousand pounds of fucking gold? An Army to keep your fucking people in order? Some fucking manners? What would you like then?** Phillipe Roars in front of the Pirate King.\n\nPhillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\nPhillipe Leaves the room at the guidance of one of his soldiers when the guards put their hands on their weapons and goes for his boat"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nQuickly, the exits to the Maith Mansion were closed and men were sent out to retrieve the confused lord from the estate. At the King's request, all Terresolian boats were to be docked at the harbor until further notice, and when the boat belonging to Lord de Capet was found, for it to be promptly recommissioned as a transport vessel. \n\nThe Pirate King had hardly moved from his throne and awaited the arrival, alive or dead, of the Lord before him."
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\nPhillipe goes back in front of the king, hand on his sword for the possibility of an attack\n\nLanfrey Slamini\nTonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nHe was shopping for some spices to sell at Limani when he saw one of the guards that had stayed outside rush over to him, saying that the Lord was imprisoned. He rushed over to the port and saw that the boats were being taken and so took a right and payed a nearby pirate 200 gold coins, all he had on him, to take him to Limani as soon as possible. He left for Limani right there, and arrived shortly"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, The Southern Isles\n\nBradai watched as the doors swung open, and Phillipe was escorted back into the throne room, this time surrounded by a regiment of twenty or so armed Maith guards. This time, however, everyone was silent. In place of the booing and jeering was the impatient tapping of Bradai Maith's fingers on the arm of his throne. \n\n\"Welcome back, Phillipe of Stafili.\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n\"What will you do to me\" Phillipe Asks"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, The Southern Isles\n\n\"One million years...\" Dimitri Novikov leaned over to whisper in Bradai's ear, \"One _million_ years dungeon.\" \n\nThe Pirate King bat him away and cleared his throat, producing a list of crimes. He perched a small pair of reading glasses on his nose and read his crimes thusly: \n\n\"Fhree men, indiscriminately killed, fhreatening a King, trying to escape justice and uh...\" Penned something down at the bottom of the list, \"Lollygagging.\" \n\n\"What do _you_ fink a suitable crime for someone like vhat would be?\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n\"What exactly is 'lollygagging'?\" Phillipe Asks, and then Responds \"I would probably sell the criminal for a big fat ransom, seeing as I am a lord\"\n\n\"And banish him from my lands forever\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, The Southern Isles\n\n\"Dawdling? Loitering? Dallying?\" The Pirate could list off synonyms all day. \"I don't sell people, Phillipe. And what ruler would want to buy you? I 'ardly imagine you 'ave a taste for tha Shitblood Queen Charity Lane?\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n\"My treasury is bigger than the Royal Treasury, and of course, my treasurer left long ago, sending for my Navy. If you do not accept my proposal soon, you migt find yourself on the run again\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\n\"I'm sure it is, yes. Which is why _you_ control Terresol, and not the Queen and her army and navy. _Your_ navy, I'm sure, is superior. Probably better vhan mine. And on tha run again? I 'ave ruled vhis Kingdom for nearly fifteen years, I 'ave not run in a very long time. Spend your entirely treasury, my city can withstand blockade from a few paltry ships.\"\n\nA rotten tomato was thrown from the crowd, splattering hard onto the side of the Lord's head."
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Lord Phillipe\nTonate Proper, the southern isles\n\n\"The Queen stands as the ruler of Terresol on a rope, and she probably doesn't even want to rule it. My Navy will arrive sooner or later, and you will have to make a hard choice. If you chop my head, be ready to find yourself at war against terresol, as, even if that shitblood doesnt like me, she cannot ignore the fact that a pirate has beheaded one of her Vassals. If you turn me in, you will be left alone, and of you fight, even of you win the engagement you will be at war against Terresol, as a war of mine is a war of the Queen as well. Now what will it be?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Kill you?\" The Pirate King shook his head, \"Did you really fink I was going to kill you, Phillipe?\" The court began to laugh, and the sound of feet stomping in unison began to break out. They were asking for a sentencing. \"Vhere are two options in price for murdering a man in my city. You may provide me wiff a ship, or you may be branded on your back. You 'ave killed fhree men, so you can make fhree decisions. Ships or brands, milord?\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n\"I have 2 ships in the city, and they have already been confiscated by you, so that takes 2 murders away. The last one, I could send for one of my ships to be delivered here, or if you want to, you csn brand me. Believe me, I have gone through worse in the past.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, the Southern Isles\n\nBradai was silently amazed that Phillipe hadn't more strongly opted to simply wait for another ship to come into harbor. \"Yeah, uh... I do. I do actually want to brand you. Pretty badly, as it were.\" He turned to Dimitri Novikov and shrugged as the a branding iron was brought into the room and quickly deposited in a lit brazier. \n\nAn awkward silence hung over the room. \"I will be honest wiff you...\" He placed his hands in his lap and began to fiddle his thumbs, \"It will take a while for tha poker to 'eat up. We 'ave maybe uh... Five or so minutes.\" \n\nIt wasn't the _worst_ day off he'd ever had."
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\n\"I am preety sure that you are amazed at my willingness to be branded, aren't you?\" He then turns around and shows his back which is full of cuts and whip marks \"My late father, god bless him, always thought that I could only rule if I had experienced pain firsthand. I do not know why, but what happened was that I was subject to pain at a young age, and now I can barely feel it. I do have one question... What is written on that branding iron?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Well, even if you _are_ pain resistant, you're not going to want to sit down for a few weeks. You're going to be sore, and until vhat fing scabs over. I wouldn't want you getting blood on your nice chairs, aye?\" He watched as the poker was pulled from the flames, metal white hot and crackling. \"Nuffink is written on it. It's simply my sigil, tha Poppy flower. If you'll just drop your pants, we'll 'ave some men 'old you down, and you can be on your way.\""
},
{
"author": "honestrabbit6525",
"message": "Phillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\nPhillipe Complies, lowering down his pants and showing a strong bruised upper thigh. He was held down by 3 men and the iron was blasted on his skin. To their amazement he didn't budge, and his tough skin took all of the impact, not penetrating and therefore not bleeding. He goes in again but the same result happens. By that time the metal was not hot enough, so he simply released himself, put his pants back up, and left the mansion.\n\nPhillipe de Capet\nTonate Proper, the Southern Isles\n\nAfter leaving the Mansion, he was stopped by many people, trying to see if he had escaped, but after showing them his branded thigh, they just normally go away and he arrives at the port. He pays a merchant to transport him back to Limani, and makes sure to never return here again, going next to a place where people are civilised"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper\n\nThe Pirate King didn't wince as Phillipe de Capet was branded on the ass, the smell of burnt skin and sizzling fat hung heavy in the air. His screams quickly subsided as the crowd cheered the branding. The Pirate King clapped, signaling for the brand to be lifted. \n\n\" 'e took it like a fuckin champ.\" Bradai shrugged, watching as the Lordsblood faded in and out of consciousness, and was just about to send him away when Phillipe began to cry for another round. He didn't look like he was in control of his own body. He rubbed his beard, \"Tha poor man is delusional. 'e seems to 'ave absolutely no grasp on reality whatsoever.\" \n\nThe Lord of Starfili had proclaimed that his skin was made of tougher stuff, and that the brand hadn't pierced his iron hind. That would have been impossible as because he was human, and humans were famously known for having skin. Faced with the decision to show mercy, or act cruelly Bradai Maith decided to default to the trusty blood caste to make his next choice. Was he a Mainlander? Yes. Was he a Shitblood? No. Was he asking for it? Oh yeah. \n\n\"One more round, vhen.\" Another poker was taken from the fire pit and placed on the opposite cheek. This one knocked him out cold. \"A fuckin' legend.\" The Pirate King smiled. \n\nIn the end, Phillipe had to be hoisted over the shoulder of one of his men, pants hung around his ankles. With both of his ships now impounded by the Southern Isles government, he figured that a known killer would have a tough time getting home. Somehow, though, Bradai Maith knew that Lord de Capet would manage."
}
] | 116.5 | 3,654 |
243.4 | 2019-11-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\n\nPortside Town in the Southern Isles\n\nIchabod traipsed along the docks, picking up a large crate on the way. He had gotten a small job from a trading ship, and all he had to do was do some grunt work. He was a skinny lad, falling over himself as he picked up the heavier things. Good thing it was nothing breakable.\n\nHe seemed to be stronger than he looked, but the crates were still a struggle as he hoisted it up to a sailor at the edge of the ship to grab. He grunted heavily, the sweat beading on his brow and along the color of his plain white cotton shirt."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nPortside town in the Southern Isles\n\nQuite some time had past during their trip, and a rather thick beard had grown on top of William's face. However, it did not even nearly resemble that of many a cliche'd lumberjack's, being reasonably well kept and tidy though able to be noticed if he had his helmet off.\n\nIt was much different from that though, considering how armored he and his men had gotten upon getting closer to the port. The ships' flags had been changed to that of another relatively unknown and yet relatively wealthy family so that no guard was to bother them upon entrance. The soldiers and the merchant had jupons and paintings showing the colors of red and blue with a yellow sun on it's center as was the heraldry of that house.\n\nLeaving the ship, William turned towards Ichabod right before lifting his visor, letting the top of his face be visible to Sigmar, as the bottom was covered by the steel that protected it... But only him, for he wanted to know what a clumsy boy such as himself was doing in those docks. Right after, he motioned to a poster of a bounty—his bounty—and motioned to his own face.\n\"Now that you know who I am, mind if I know who you are, lad?\"\n\nHis relaxing and dominant voice struck through the air, the thunder of his tone amazing even the birds that chirped under the somber sky and clouds of the isles."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nPortside Town in the Southern Isles\n\nIchabod paused as the ship came into the port. He was even more intrigued as the soldiers were seen. Fancy ship, high price, right? He could probably make quite a lot doing little chores... Or make quite a lot with his slippery fingers.\n\nHe caught the small gold coin that the sailor flicked to him and he set it in his pocket, before walking over toward where the ship was docking. Quite magnificent indeed. \n\nThe man who came off of it was quite magnificent as well. He narrowed his eyes and stood a little taller, for the short stack that wasn't a lot. He maybe made it to The Merchant's chest in height.\n\nLooking at the bounty and then back at the Merchant, he curled his lip. Well that changes things. A pirate, eh? He blinked rapidly as if clearing his head.\n\n\"Ah... Ah... I'm Ichabod.\" He said curtly, crossing his arms as he seemed to deflate in his comfidence as he found who he was talking to."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nPortside town in the southern isles\n\nThe merchant was six feet in height, and with his longsword and dagger on his hip in their respective sheathes, he yawned before lowering his visor. Ten men in full plate harnesses were right behind William, and they seemed to each be decent folk considering how they looked in pity towards the frail-looking, miniscule Ichabod.\n\"I do not assume you believe everything told about me in that poster, Ichabod. I believe many lies have been told about you as well as me, specially when we are talking about how the cowardly nobility sees us.\"\n\nHe looked the boy up and down, though his eyes were not visible. Maybe he was going to be useful, or just someone that he could help out of altruism. Either way, 'pirate', although being one of the titles attributed to him, was not very accurate.\n\"You are brave, young Ichabod. I can see it in your eyes... Is it glory that you lust? Or is it fortune?\"\n\nThe young man seemed to be alone, for he was not working alongside his father as it usually happened at the time. Rather, he was working alone at the docks.\n\"Or... Family, mayhaps?\"\n\nHe motioned towards the end of the dock, promptly walking up towards it and looking into the sea. The man motioned for the boy to follow.\n\"Tell me, *Who are you*? Not your name. Not your nickname. Who are **You**?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nPortside Town in the Southern Isles\n\n\"Ah... I-I'm...\" The words tripped up on his tongue as he followed William. He thought about what he said. Lies told about him.. Plenty. A lot of truths, too though. They count for something, right? And Cowardly Nobility. His mind didn't rest enough to think about anyone but himself. Given the visions that fade in and out at times made it difficult to even act normal. \"I doubt them's fancy folk had a thought 'bout me.\" He commented, looking out to the stormy grey waters.\n\n\"I'm not lookin'... For anythin'.\" He said somberly. \"Mayhap a good meal and a warm beddin'. Me mum always made me sup.\" He rasped out, crossing his arms.\n\nSo... Who was he? \"I don't 'ave me mum or pa anymore. I ain't 'ave nothin but all me teeth and the clothes on me body. You keep askin' who I am trying to be fancy, but sir, I ain't nobody. A boy with a foggy brain. Crossed wires.\""
}
] | 242 | 1,217 |
271.25 | 2019-11-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nPortside town in the southern isles\n\nWilliam knew how the boy would have reacted, and the same ensued. Surprised, in awe and frozen at the mere idea that someone was lifting a finger in order to help him. Disbelief was... Common to be directed towards William due to his generosity.\n\nAs such, he did not react to the hand touching him. He suspected it was just a scared boy not knowing wether or not dehydration left him insane and delusional, and a touch would undoubtedly reassure him of what he was seeing.\n\"I do believe I am real, aye. Hopefully so at least.\"\n\nChuckling, he started to listen to Ichabod's words with a growing worry for the boy, and how to successfully improve his image and mental well-being by helping him. Medieval public relations matter, do they not?\n\"Which would that thing be? I do know that you can be given the best doctors, if your desire is to attempt to cure what assails your mind.\"\n\nThe merchant sighed, shaking his head slowly at his words. Was he untrusting of them? Perhaps.\n\"What we get? Well, we get to help a lad in need that's all. I can help you more even if you say there isn't much else to it, I can see it in your eyes. Either way if your stance is to remain that one, I suppose I can simply buy you a house and leave both the roast pig and bed there. Maybe buy a few chicken for you, too.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nPortside Town in the Southern Isles\n\nIchabod huffed, shoving his hand in his tattered pant's pocket, which looked sewn on himself, given the shoddy tailoring. He didn't want to tell him everything, not yet. He didn't trust William with his story, he could see the stinging pity in his eyes already. No need.\n\n\"I won't tell you, it's not me crossed-wires, though it was da cause. I ain't hafta tell yous, yeah?\" He said with a small sneer. \"Listen, ya don't hafta help me for nuthin'. I ain't got a lot to offer, yeah, but... I ain't some pitiful lil port worker. I got *Some* Money to me, somehow. I mean... You lookin' at me just like the rich fancy lookses at yous...\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nPortside town in the southern isles\n\nA huff? Really? Well that was unexpected. William couldn't recal the last time someone felt insulted by being helped at their time of need, and he huffed as well before looking at the roast pig, and back at Ichabod Sigmar.\n\nListening to him, specially concerned by how he sneered in his presence. The merchant was a undoubtedly man of pity who sought to help his neighbor, though that boy did really seem like he felt like help was an affront against his wellbeing. Finally, he understood what was going through the boy's mind.\n\"You seemed happy about the pig and the bed, and I got quite a few coins to spare. However, I know how you feel... Maybe I acted like you were another orphan in need of assistance, but you certainly seem like you want to be treated like more than that. Instead of continuing to act like one of the nobles, I can offer you a job prospect... Say, how would you like getting paid more than you are here to do a simpler—and yet more important—task?\"\n\nThe merchant knew what he could ask the lad to do. His book of treasures, it carried many a secret though only a few were able to be found by him... But once the boy learnt how to read, a mind without sanity was probably going to work well to decipher a book that seemed to make it's own words insane. Fight fire with fire, eh?\n\"You may not trust me yet, but I can assure you I pay my workers well. That is something not even a single king or queen can contest.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nSouthern Isles\n\nIchabod felt a tonge of something he hadn't felt in a long while. Was it perhaps *Hope*? He looked to his left toward an empty part.Of the dock, seemingly focussed on something that wasn't there. He seemed to be questioning whether to go or not.\n\n*Be useful for once, Ya idjit!*\n\n He heard his eldest brother call, standing tall on the dock. Ichabod blinked a few times and the hallucination of Donnie fell away, back to empty dock.\n\n\"Ah... Ah... Aye... Ye.\" He turned back to William, nodding curtly. \"I'll be useful to ya... Whatever yea need, sir, i'd rather 'ave a... Uh... *Life* Than an 'ouse wifout a... A... A work.\" He stammered, seeming to try and sort out his thoughts manually by pulling at a strand of his hair as he spoke.\n\n\"Am not worried about the pay as long as I 'ave enough to 'ave some... Some *Food*. Stuffs I can choose meself that you don't 'afta give ta me.\""
}
] | 279 | 1,085 |
392.666667 | 2019-11-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nPortside town in the southern isles\n\nHope... Hope. Ah, quite a thing to cling on to, to make yourself believe that something good was to finally come out of all the misery of the world. Nonetheless, a feeling such as this was rightfully placed before William, for he, in all his might and splendor, his self-righteous conduct and belief of grandeur through good deeds, was able to help the young man.\n\nHowever, knew nothing of his hallucination and only guessed the boy was uneasy with the ordeal. Not something he hadn't gotten used to after all these years of recruiting and talking to folk.\n-\n\nAcknowledgement reached his face at Ichabod's reply, and truly William had been right at his assumption prior to that. Sigmar did noy enjoy getting things for free, though the roasted pig and bed pleased him initially for some reason. Most likely simply due to how he had never seen such kindness.\n\"Understandable. When I was your age I too enjoyed earning things through my sheer competence... My skill. Hell, many a bandit had to fall before my blade before I finally decided to become a merchant, and even so more often than not I have to defend myself. Although now I do not fight in order to prove myself, but for mere defense.\"\n\nWilliam was drifting off the conversation's path, and he finally regained his pattern for a moment. He loved to speak about himself, and such finally became apparent before he himself answered the orphan.\n\"You will have more than enough. Enough to buy yourself a decent suit of armor and weapons, and learn how to fight alongside me and my men. Lad, I did say the task was simpler but I believe that was a miswording of mine... As such, let me explain it to you: you will learn many skills, from fighting to reading, from trading to sneaking, and you will help me read a treasure book. Do you accept this job? If so, know that you must travel alongside me until all treasures are revealed and obtained, or until you simply decide to leave your job.\"\n\nA short job description, alongside the explanation that he was going to learn how to do things instead of being told how to do them. Interesting, eh?"
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nPortside Town in The Southern Isles\n\nIchabod flinched before nodding. Reading... Writing? *Armor*? He narrowed his eyes. He was small, fast. Armor seemed so big and clunky. Of course, a sword would be cool... Learning how to fight would be even cooler... Is there such a thing as light armor? \n\n*Answer him, son.*\n\nIchabod, standing there in silence, had snapped back to reality and looked almost surprised.\n\"Ah! Y... Yes! I've got... Well... Ah I don't got nothin'. What's a treasure book? Like a map but *More* Borin'? How'd you know I never learned 'ow to read?\" He answered initially, dropping his arms to the side in their creased position as he began to pick at the pig with his fingers.\n\n\"I'm not too sure why you'd choose me for dat job inna *First* Place, ya know. I mean.. Yeah, I'll learn to read your book. Is it because lots.Of.Commoners don't know how to read? Yeah? And Nobles do. An' you don't likes 'em. Maybe. Okay. Okay. Yeah, I reads for you... Yeah.\"\n\nHe said, tripping over his words and becoming slightly non-sensical in the process of responding. He tried to ignore the illusion of his Pa standing right next to William, averting his gaze."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nPortside town in the southern isles\n\nNarrowing his eyes? Was he considering the offer, or was the kiddo tensing up out of a lack of trust? Hard to tell really, maybe both. However, it is not that hard to believe that his thoughts regarding armor were bad... And those were mistaken. After all, armor is incredibly good, protective and not all that cumbersome. At least the gear he sold wasn't.\n\nA 'snap back to reality' had one of William's eyebrows arch in examination. What was it that was going through Ichabod's mind?\n\"Mhm. A treasure book is similar to a treasure map aye, but it doesn't have drawings on it... Rather, it describes the place where the treasure is, how to get there and all that, while rarely providing an image. A map made out of words, to put it simply.\"\n\nHe looked the boy up and down, knowing how suspicious he was of him, how nervous he was, and how hungry he was too as he ate the pig with his bare, dirty hands.\n\"Not because of that. I learnt how to read as a commoner, but I assumed the fact that you did not know how to read since you were not working as a scribe's apprentice, nor as a page or squire, but carrying crates. Just an assumption really, added up to your... Grammar, or the lack thereof.\"\n\nPutting a hand on his shoulder, the merchant lifted the boy's face to look at him with the other hand—both gloved with the fluted steel gauntlets he had. Gently of course, but in a decisive manner, unshaking confidence in his movements.\n\"Lad, be at ease. There is nothing to fear here. Now, let us go to the ship, eh? I thought of departing to the witherlands.\"\n\nLetting go, he went up his ship and motioned the boy to follow, the anchor being lifted, and the naval object getting ready to leave."
}
] | 416 | 1,178 |
255.5 | 2020-01-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "House Alder\nAlderport, The Southern Isles\n\nThe docks were practically a ghost town, given the relative fear of newcomers. The Alder's has decided to close them off to everyone except for those with special clearance, only allowing necessary goods to travel in and out. Everyone else was required to on the island.\n\nSo, it was unusual to have a lone man and his horse arrive on their shores. The few Islanders who were out working cast weary looks at the mercenary, whispering amongst themselves. It didn't help that he was clearly a Mainlander. \n\n————\n\n\"Do ye think he's here, yet?\" Mirajane said, sitting patiently while Thalia braided back a stray strand of hair. They were in Thalia's drawing room, lounging on a ruby colored sofa. Thalia was already dressed in a navy blue gown, gold stitching on the winged sleeves and along the train. Mirajane's dress was a cream color, a pink bow tied in the back. Thalia thought she'd outgrown such frilly things, but Gertrude insisted she retain her youth, somehow.\n\n\"Probably. Tobias left a while ago to go out an' meet 'im,\" Thalia responded, snatching a pin from her mouth and lodging it gently into the little bun on her younger sister's head.\n\n\"I wonder what he looks like.. Do ye think he'll fall in love with me, at first sight?\" Mirajane asked.\n\nThalia laughed.\n\n\"Not a chance. Yer voice is too annoying,\" She said.\n\nMirajane turned around and slapped Thalia with a pillow, making the woman laugh and pinch her little sister's cheeks.\n\n\"Ohhh don't get all pouty,\" Thalia said, snorting at Mirajane's irritated face. \"Yer very pretty. But ye can't be fawning over some _knight_ who an't even a knight yet. Don't worry about those kinda things. If I were you, I'd forsake romance altogether.\"\n\n\"Well, why?\" Mirajane asked, turning to face her sister.\n\nThalia shrugged. \"Men are.. Too concerned about the wrong things. Lookin' tough and actin' tough and winnin' everything. They can't imagine people like you and me having fun. Runnin' shit. You know what I mean?\"\n\nMirajane just stared, not quite following.\n\n\"Oh never mind it. I'm probably not makin' sense,\" She said, standing and stretching her arms. Her movements made the golden bands along her wrists jangle.\n\nMirajane stood as well, walking with her toward the door.\n\n—————\n\nTobias, Rhiander, and Robin rode down the lonely lane that wound down into the town, approaching the mercenary on his ascent. By now, a pair of guards had found him, escorting him toward the estate\n\nRobin raised a hand once he could make out the mercenary's face.\n\n\"Berwyn! It's been ages, friend,\" He called.\n\nTobias and Rhiander remained silent, for now, nodding their heads in greeting."
},
{
"author": "syndi_cate",
"message": "Berwyn grinned, getting down from his horse once he was inside. \"Robin! When was it we last spoke in person, a few months ago? It's good to see you again.\" He said, taking off his helmet so that his face was visible to the group, still grinning in a friendly manner.\n\n\"I was happy to receive your letter, and I do apologise for taking so long to get here - though luckily I was already in Araedia when I received it.\" He said, afterwards looking at Rhiander and Tobias and giving a respectful nod to each of them. \"Lord Rhiander and Commander Tobias, I'm assuming? It's an honor to finally meet you both.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"The honor is ours. We are grateful that you made the trip, given the circumstances,\" Rhiander said, stepping off of his horse. He stepped forward to grab Berwyn's arm in greeting. \n\nTobias dismounted as well, giving a slight bow.\n\n\"You assumed correctly. I hope the waters treated you well,\" Tobias said. \"The reception won't begin until this evening, so feel free to make yourself comfortable once we arrive at the manor.\""
},
{
"author": "syndi_cate",
"message": "Berwyn grabbed Rhiander's arm in return of the greeting, nodding respectfully in a friendly seeming manner. \"Ah, it wasn't an issue. I managed to secure passage on a trade ship that was on it's way here anyways.\" He'd say, giving a slight smile as he of course released Rhiander's arm.\n\nHe would then turn his attention to Tobias. \"Slightly unpleasant, as I was situated in the cargo hold, but nothing I couldn't handle. I've been on a couple of vessels in my time, after all, believe it or not.\" He'd say, giving a slight chuckle and a nod. \"And that suits me fine. Shall we be on our way, then?\""
}
] | 144.5 | 1,022 |
184 | 2020-01-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Tobias nodded, waving the two escorts off. They began making their way toward the barracks reserved for those on land duty. Tobias liked to cycle out his navy, so that they didn't become tired of the sea. He never thought it possible, but there were enough soldiers who almost seemed to turn color after sailing for too long.\n\n\"Let's head inside. We have a room prepared, but yer welcome ta take a look around,\" Tobias said, hoisting himself atop his horse again and tugging the reins to the left, turning and making for the manor.\n\n\"Gertrude, Thalia, and Mirajane probably won't show themselves until the reception,\" Rhiander said, following Tobias' lead. \"We don't.. Host these kinds of functions often, so they take a longer time getting ready. You understand.\"\n\nRobin laughed.\n\n\"I'm confident he will, once he meets them,\" The older gentleman said, walking his horse alongside his friend."
},
{
"author": "syndi_cate",
"message": "**Berwyn Cadoc**\n**Alder Estate Mansion, The Southern Isles**\n\nBerwyn left his horse, Pluton, in the stables or whatever near the manor once they had arrived there, and headed inside to the manor after looking around the main hall in some awe. He had, of course, been in places like this before, but not very often so he hadn't really gotten used to it.\n\nAfter some looking around he'd try to find where his room was, though he got a bit lost on the way and one of the house staff lead him to his room. He thanked the man, and then went inside the room, getting out of his armor and deciding to take a short nap to rest up before the reception.\n\nWaking up a couple hours later, not long before the reception would start, he'd get back into his armor - considering he didn't exactly have much in the way of super formal clothing, and considering that it was a reception for him to be officially inducted as a Knight of the house, he assumed wearing his armor would be best anyways. Minus the helmet, of course."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "House Alder\nAlderport, the southern isles\n\n\"'Scuse me, sir. The family's ready to receive you.\"\n\nA servant knocked on the knight's door, bowing her head. She soon left just as quickly as she'd appeared, trusting the knight could find his way to the dining room.\n\nIt was there that the Alder family was settled, dressed in their finest. Tobias was wearing a freshly tailored navy uniform, his shoulders decorated with bands of distinction. Rhiander wore a maroon suit jacket, a yellow handkerchief in his pocket. Robin hadn't changed much. He wasn't one to take these affairs as seriously as the rest.\n\nAt the table were more than just the family. They invited other prominent merchants, sailors, friends to herald the knight's inclusion into the family."
},
{
"author": "syndi_cate",
"message": "Berwyn Cadoc\nAlderport, The Southern Isles\n\nBerwyn nodded, walking to the dining room as he had seen it on the way to his own room within the house. He was wearing his armor, as he didn't exactly have any formal clothing, though he of course was not wearing his helmet or carrying his mace, having left those in his room since this was a formal reception after all.\n\nUpon entering the dining room he bowed before the people at the table, not being certain on whether or not he should take a seat just yet. \"Good evening.\" He'd say, keeping his composure rather well despite his nervousness about the whole affair, not wanting to screw it up."
}
] | 181.5 | 736 |
214.6 | 2020-03-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nTonate Proper\n\nThe market was hectic, which is exactly what Young Icha loved. The mass of people were so naïve to his thieving ways as he walked by casually. Ichabod didn't seem like the pickpocketing type, a small smile on his face as his hand adjusted the collar of his well-to-do jacket. He liked this one because it had deep pockets. He pushed past a few people before making it into a small gap, bumping into the cages of rats that Mouse had out for display.\n\n\"Oi, pardon me, fellas...\" He stammered as he grabbed onto a few cages before they tipped over completely. He then glanced at the oddball heading the operation and cocked his head. No hair. Boy? No, it's a lady. Is it? No idea. \"Uh... Sorry... Friend.\" He said nervously as he made sure the merchandise was alright before letting go and wiping his hands down. He glanced at the rats. Business must be tough what with the plague and all. He looked over at Mouse again.\n\n\"Must be tough sellin' the face of the damn plague in the midst of it, yeah? Haven't got any other talents to do for a coin?\" Ah, Ichabod, a bit sassy as always. IN public he always had that face of confidence, although William knew an entirely different Ichabod."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse \nTonate Proper\n\nAs the girl walked off from her cart, Mouse relaxed back onto the edge of it, occasionally flicking a rodent from biting at the folds of her skirt. Honestly, she didn't get many customers; most avoided her except a few burly pirates and the occasionally noble child - slumming with their parents.\n\nSo, when something collided with the cart and almost upended both her and the rats, Mouse let out a noise (somewhere between a squeak and a growl) of surprise.\n\nStanding and turning to the culprit, she almost softened her heart for the kid. Only for the little fucker to open his mouth.\n\n\"Did yer ma teach you to speak like that, wee lad?\" She asked, hands going to her hips (mostly to stop her from striking the teenager).\"Have y'got caught yet with all that shit in yer pockets.\"\n\nMouse pointed to his jacket - no one wore jackets in the beating sun of the southern isles unless they were pickpockets. She should know; she was one a long long time ago.\"S'pose I should tell th'guard, huh? Or set me rats on ye'!\" She feigned towards him then back again with a smirk."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nTonate Proper\n\nHe cocked his head to the side and stuffed his hands in his pockets, a small smirk peeking in the side of his mouth. His eyes twitched for a moment and he looked Mouse up and down. A lady then. The voice, as angry as it was, as a lady's. \n\n\"Me Ma taught me how to come down to sup on time and to clean behind me ears, but I don't think she taught me how to speak like that, she'd have my head.\" He said cleverly, leaning forward a little bit. \"But you and I both know your little friends'll draw more attention than *My* Coat.\" He said with a smile. \"Who'd they believe, A bald rat merchant or an impressionable young lad with some coin in 'is name?\"\n\nWhether she believed his bluff or not, it was fun to be a little shite with no parental supervision. But, he obviously wasn't *Just* A bastard, as he looked around him suspiciously ands seemed to stare in an empty corner for far too long."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nShe was about to *Throttle* This child. Oh he thought he was smart did he? He wouldn't think so with a brand new shiner- she shouldn't even be thinking that.\n\n\"They'll believe all th'stol'n shit in that wee jacket of yers.\" She spat at the boy, self-consciously running a hand through that was left of her hair. She really was having enough of kids today.\n\n\"Now piss off or I'll beat y'meself then send you home to yer ma for ano'er one.\" Mouse told him, idly picking a calmer rat from the cage to hold and pet, almost as if to intimidate the child."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nTonate Proper\n\n\"Ah shit, I'm sure she'd agree with Ya if she was still breathin'. But sadly, she's about three feet under down the road there.\" He said quite... Casually as he jabbed to the west with a thumb. \"Plus, all these items are gonna be given to someone better'n the louts that 'ad em before, trust you me.\" He said with a wave of nonchalance.\n\nHe glanced back at her and the rat and he raised an eyebrow at her. \"Ya gonna beat me with Squeakers there or the old broom you made from your witch hair?\" He snickered, reflexively taking a step back because he definitely expected a swing from the lady he was insulting."
}
] | 228 | 1,073 |
164.25 | 2020-03-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\n\"You'll get no symp'thy from me, kid.\" She warned him, leaning against the edge of her cart again as the rodent lifted it's head towards the boy.\"Thievin's illegal and you know it.\" She warned.\n\nAt his insults and the step the kid took away, she couldn't help the small smirk that made its way to her face,\"Maybe I'll hex ye'.\" She told him, voice deadly serious,\"Make y'bleed from yer ears and dance on yer hands.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nTonate Proper\n\nIchabod smiled a cheesy grin, showing his teeth quite brightly. They were pearly whites, as if brushed regularly. The way the boy spoken and acted didn't seem as such but his appearance spoke a story of wealth. A wealthy pickpocket? How odd.\n\n\"Ah, that'd be useful, innit? My ears never did me any favors anyway, I could scare all the children that keep pesterin' me.\" He scrunched his nose a little and tilted his head the other way. \"And maybe you should take up the dancin', mum. That'd make you a lot more than rats.\" He snickered again and turned around, his back facing her. He scratched at his head suddenly and ravenously for only a moment before dropping his hand and looking back at her.\n\n\"Have fun with your hexes 'n shit!\" He said with a worried smile. Worried? How odd. He was the face of calm before. He swung his head the other way and stumbled forward, a few sailors bumping into him as they passed by. He closed his eyes momentarily and swallowed.\n\n\"Maybe I'll come s-see ye tomorrow. I've got a few more days here...\" He said a bit quieter before another person shoved him aside to get to where they were going. \"Pardon...\" He said quietly."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nCecily-Edith had approximately 2 and a half brain cells. If she was expected to catch on to the fact that the boy was a little too well dressed for thievery.\n\nAnd it was taking all of her strength not to wring the little fucker's neck and string him to a flagpole. Perhaps her temper was getting a little out of control though.\n\nA laugh bubbles from her mouth as the kid stumbled forward from the sailors. At least there was some karma served today,\"Come back and I'll push you over the dock!\" She warned after him."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nTonate Proper\n\nIchabod looked at her with a furrowed brow before getting pushed out of the way again, nearly falling flat this time. He shook his head and stepped back into the small bubble her rats had created from people trying to avoid them. He stumbled forward a bit too much and directly *Into* Mouse, Making a small \"Oof\" Sound as he clung onto her. It was up to her to not have them topple over.\n\n\"Don't be rude.\" He seethed through his teeth, trying to push himself away from her but given his shitty balance at the moment, seemed to make things worse."
}
] | 130 | 657 |
214 | 2020-03-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nSouthern sea\n\nThe boat was dragged up a larger ship, a sea storm having begun not long before. William was running around shouting orders to his employees, several flags being raised accross the merchant ship... Waves hit it's front and it's side, and the small object that held one of William's workers and Ichabod would not have endured long down there.\n\n\"ICHABOD! OH, ICHABOD, IT IS YOU!\"\n\nThe man shouted, rushing over to the boy and grabbing him in his arms, a tear sliding through his cheek masked by the heavy rain above them. Letting go, he motioned for the lad to get inside of the captain's room.\n\n\"It is all going to be fine, Ichabod! Trust me on this, I am going to have you get anything you ask for, you little spoiled lad!\" He joked \"Now go on, before we topple—\"\n\nThe ship went to the side, almost getting into the water as William fell against the wooden counter, using his body to block Ichabod from falling outside if so was to happen.\n\nMeanwhile, men ran around, several with buckets with which they constantly used to throw water off. It was alarming how that ship was not going to hold for much longer—they needed to get to some shore, somehow.\n\nSure enough, an island was seen in the distance, but there still were a few miles in the way of shore.\n\n\"Wait, you are hurt? Ichabod, you little lad—I will give you a sermon later, just GET INSIDE!\"\n\nA chunk of the boat was torn off as it hit a rock, several whales being seen close to the ship as they delved deep into the ocean to avoid the storm."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nSouthern Sea.\n\nIchabod felt his body thrown around as William yelled and laughed, feeling his arms protecting him. His head was still echo-y, though, and the sounds of the storm encompassed Ichabod with fear as the boat was beginning to be ripped apart. \n\n\"William I... I-I-I have a...\" He didn't really get to speak much as he was yelled at to get inside. He jumped a little but was just too out of it to rebel for once. He was bounced around a bit before falling to the deck, making his way with difficulty toward the cabin. \n\nHe cussed a little, but thankfully the waves crashing against the ship covered his profanity as he was inches from the good handle only to be launched away from it as the ship went over a large wave. \n\n\"MotherfuAHHHH!\" He screamed as he was jostled against a few barrels and ropes by the door, head first with his feet sticking up put of the pile."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nSouthern Sea\n\nThe merchant saw his... Son?...Get tossed around, and used the corners of the ship to get to him, but eventually slipped on a pile of water, hitting his head against the floor as the mast collapsed upon a sailor, who was thrown off instantly to the sea of sharks below. Crimsom filled the waters not long after, and extending his hand over for Ichabod to take it, William's vision went black.\n\nThe island could be seen nearby as the ship hit against the waves, and the sailors kept going unconscious or dying as the minutes went on.\n\nTheir only hope was going to be stranding."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nSouthern seas\n\nIchabod crawled out of the ropes to see William's limp body sliding across the deck. His eyes widened, but... The book. The fucking book! He kicked himself toward the door and grabbed onto it, pulling himself inside as the waves brought the ship up. He ran as hard as he could *Up* The steep incline, opening the chest and finding purchase on the leather waterproof skin that was encasing the book that William had taken him in for in the first place. As he grabbed it, holding it close to his chest, the ship breached the wave and he was lifted into the air, before being slammed down against the floor and falling into darkness, clutching the book close to his chest even when he lost consciousness."
}
] | 182.5 | 856 |
377 | 2020-04-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "bruh_momentos_dos",
"message": "Sand crunched beneath heavy boots on the debris strewn beach, a gang of men leather clad in uniformed armour, the foreman standing forth, leading the steady march towards the merchants vessel. The fresh wind tug at the dangingling locks of hair hanging before Danté's face, the calm often seen after the roaring storms of the South Isles\n\n\"MEN, TEAR UP THE WRECK, FIND ANYTHING WORTH SELLING ON OR PUTTING TO USE... AND REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU TAKE ANYTHING WITHOUT RUNNING IT THROUGH ME FIRST\"\n\nBlood mixed with sand from fallen passengers, their bodies sprawling the beach, either bled out, crushed or left half dead. Crows already bickered and fought over the scraps, fleeing as the flock of magpies converged on the cash cow- lead by a hard faced fox dressed in a longcoat. His boot kicked over a gent, the lifeless husk shaking as leather gauntlets ruffled through his pockets and pouches\n\nIf the company weren't going to find any particular riches they'd find information, whether it be on trade routes, kingdom diplomacy or useful blackmail. The group continued to kick through boards, bodies and debris to find any leftover riches.\n\nA man called out from near the captain's log, beckoning over his boss to see the phenomenon he had just witness, Danté followed the lead, seeing it too- fucking survivors. He had never seen such a thing in a wreck like this, they're usually all dead by now. He stepped through the shattered doorframe, holding the handle of his dagger in anticipation\n\n\"Ahaha, well, what do you have here, two little stragglers- which of the gods did you pray to eh?\"\n\nWater warped floorboards creaked and resonated at each stern footstep, the hardened façade cracking into a cheeky grin. He neared the flustered merchant, his free gauntlet now placed firmly on the merchants shoulder\n\n\"Now, do be a dear, where's the main stock held here? And any special documents on board?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nSouthern Island\n\nIchabod reached out to William as he walked by, stooping next to his pile of scattered riches. He wheezed slightly, feeling his heart fall to his stomach as he had to have a harsh reminder that William wasn't actually his father. No. His father died. He was alone. He looked away, feeling himself wincing from the pain that seemed to hug his body.\n\nWhen he was told to let go of the book, he obeyed, sitting it in his lap as he held out his bloody hands to the merchant.\n\nOnly to be interrupted by a gruff voice taunting them at the shattered doorway. He pulled his hands away from the merchant as the outsider walked in, his voice dripping with ill intent and greed. He had seen this kind of man bedore. The entire room seemed to fall away as his voice rang in Ichabod's ears, and Ich froze, hands beginning to shake as he stared at this new man with a cold, violent glare. He may have been some boy on the cusp of manhood, but his eyes shown as that of a bloodthirsty warrior. \n\nAs he placed a hand on the Merchant's shoulder, Ichabod spoke up with a snarl in his voice. \"How about you fuck off, you greedy little *Cunt*.\" He growled, balling his hands up into fists."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "William \"The merchant\"\nSouthern island\n\nAs the handful of men showed outside, it was a force with similar numbers to those that were with the merchant, and luckily they had enough time to prepare for an incoming assault. Adjusting their clothing, the padded armor, though ragged at some parts, could still work well for protection, and the sailors got to putting their boots, gloves and whatnot on. They each had a skullcap, equipped a dagger, using harpoons as their spears as they shouted to the captain's lodge...\n\n\"Got folk coming in yer way! Break the window if ya need us!\"\n\nAnd as such, the sailors went into the nearby sands, hiding amongst woods incredibly close to the shore. Using the shout as a hint, the merchant was able to have enough time to get his longsword, longbow and a quiver with thirty arrows with hardened steel arrowheads, besides boots, gloves, a skull cap and a riveted mail shirt as soon as he had heard his men speak. Putting a replica of the crest of house maith on the ground, a smirk ensued. He was a good liar, and that may be enough to go free alongside his son.\n_ _\n\nPerhaps that explained how Danté had been able to get in the ship without any resistance. A trap was waiting for him. Standing straight with his back towards Ichabod, William kept the look of a wolf guarding his cub. His hand went over his longsword, keeping safe distance from the man as his other fist unsuspiciously neared the window.\n\n\"Welcome, good sir. I was just telling my boy over here how the people coming for us would be very nice folk, and I was also making him be certain that nice folk get a surprisingly good amount of rewards in return. However, my lad just does not find you to live up to the expectations I made him believe in... And I am afraid that bad folk are not rewarded in any way, but instead forced out of ships belonging to the ruling house of these isles... House maith, I believe, is not very kind to those who wish to plunder their vessels, no?\"\n\nMotioning to the ground with his head, William remained straight, a surprisingly tall and strong man even at the elderly age of his late twenties.\n\n\"However, if you were to safely deliver survivors from this wreck to a nearby port, I could arrange a fine payment to fall into your purse, so long as you tell me where to deliver it, for I am a humble trader and knight that goes by the name of Julian, though a very good friend of house maith. I know you will be very wise in your choice of words, my dear sir...?\"\n\n'Julian' awaited for an introduction as he remained aware of his surroundings. There was no way he could be surrounded considering there was only one door foes could go through, and the corridor could not withstand any more than the width of two and a half men in it."
},
{
"author": "bruh_momentos_dos",
"message": "Danté sniggered slightly, looked at the battered and bruised boy standing towards him, whilst an honourable feat of bravery- he was battered black and blue and just out of the womb, fairly amusing and heart warming\n\n\"Sit down lad, you're half dead as it is\"\n\nAs conversation grew back from this Julian figure he took in what he was saying, the man was rich, could pay a fair sum, would save him from too much hassle and seemed a pretty fine gentleman- who's to argue with a resume like that?\n\n\"Aight aight, calm down with the fuckin soliloquy, I get what you mean\"\n\nHe was a fairly straightforward man, and found bore in long and dramatic speeches that he so often had to counter. It is true he could just murder these men and get on with it, but at the end of the day that'd just make him a shitblood bandit- and Danté, well he was a merchant, and diplomacy came with the trade\n\n\"There's no need to worry, out of everything I'm just shocked- with a wreck like this I'm surprised anyone is alive. I'll get your men a pint and a pipe to smoke on the way\"\n\nTension lessened as he lessened his grip upon his dagger and the merchants shoulder, turning away from the door and pulling out a fancy metal pipe, inserting a tobacco lavender mix in it and took our a flint and steel striker- kissing it with sparks which resulted in sweet light smoke drifting from Dantés lips\n\n\"Come, I've got a farm not too far from here\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Ichabod Sigmar\nSouthern Island\n\nIchabod tipped up a splintered chair and sat down in it, looking quite pissed. He crossed his arms and looked away from both of them, feeling his stomach feel almost nauseous with fear and anger. He took a deep breath, feeling quite defeated already, but he had standards. Standards that didn't involve men like Dante. He felt his memories wash over him and he reached his hands up to his face, covering his eyes and staining his cheeks with the blood from his fingers.\n\n\"I'm gonna stay...\" He seethed, leaning forward and back as he began rocking in the chair. \"I can't go. Not with 'im. I have to stay. I... Have to stay.\" He began stammering, feeling his throat close and open as the anger and fear began evolving into panic. \"I can't... I CAN'T! I can't...\" He raised his voice. His head was already broken, and now with the trauma and a recurring theme arriving with Dante, he was breaking down farther than before. He groaned, loudly, as he continued to sway."
}
] | 329 | 1,885 |
240.318182 | 2020-04-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Cecily-Edith/Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nWith summer on the rise, so was the beating heat of the Southern Isles and Mouse was, frankly, not having it.\n\nSo the rat catcher had to set up shop in the shade of some trees, (begrudgingly) becoming a stop for those desperate to get out of the heat of the crowded market. Her caged rats were not too happy about it either.\n\nShe stood leaned against her cart, her skirt hiked up to her belt so her petticoats were showing, blouse unbuttoned and cuffs rolled up to elbows. Her bald head did little protection from the sun so every showing inch of skin was either tanned or burnt, though that wasn't what seemed to bother her so much.\n\nThe \"Merchant\" Passed her time with dull conversations, idle gossip and a few sweet words traded with a passing seamstress apprentice or a stable boy-praying to the gods for something exciting to happen on such a dull day."
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper\n\nDaud stood idle in the market, leaning against a wooden stall and conversing with a clearly tired merchant. He took an apple from the merchants stand and began flipping it up in the air, watching as gravity did its work and brought it straight back into his hand. \n\nGlancing around, everything was illuminated. Everything in this godforsaken market was boiling and burning under the intense heat of the sun, and whilst that usually wouldn't bother him, he was clad in his black clothes like always. The heat seemed to rip through his garments, but not burst back out, and he began to feel like he'd been plunged into a furnace. \n\nFlicking his hood up to shade his face, he threw the apple up once more, allowing it to fall back into its crate. Smiling, he turned away and passed a woman, patting her on the back, a gesture for her to pass whilst he stopped and waiting. As he pat, his other hand grabbed her purse and yanked it from the back of her belt, completely unnoticed. \n\nGoing into the shade of the trees, Daud took off his cloak, as well as his heftier pieces of leather armour, leaving a black shirt, trouser and boots. He cracked his neck and sat in the grass, Mouse being a few metres from him.\n\nHe turned and smiled at her, \"Awful weather out there, is it not?\""
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nSomehow the vendor got sucked into a rather dry conversation with a nobleman who was admiring a fancy rat, explaining that he'd like to buy a pet for his young child.\n\nAs the conversation began coming to a close, Mouse had taken out the black spotted rat and showed it to the man, only for him to suddenly become very nervous around it's teeth. So, she wished him well and groaned when he was far enough away.\n\nTurning the rat to face her she frowned,\"Lit'l bastard ye'.\" She scolded it, as if chiding a young child.\n\nIt was then that she was spoken to and her moss coloured eyes flickered to the man sitting on the grass. Suddenly she felt a little silly talking to a rat.\n\n\"Wonderful wea'er, actually,\" She spoke, putting the rodent into the cage with the others,\" 'at's eh fuckin' probl'm.\"\n\nShe perched on the side of her cart and looked the man over. He wasn't bad looking, a little on the rough side (but wasn't everyone in Tonate?). If she hadn't noticed the armour, she might even have tried sweet talking him.\n\n\"Yer nah dressed fer it a'all, are ye?\" She pointed out with a slight chuckle,\"Jus' arrived?\""
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper\n\nDaud listened intently to what the woman was saying, almost confused by her thick accent. He had no wrongful disposition however, he simply listened as a passive thing, taking in words and spewing them out . She was pretty, decent features and he admired her shaven head. Daud has always despised long flowing hair, especially in his line of work. Practical as it looked better. Her figure was slim and he was rather intrigued by to rats in the cages. He had his suspicions but he didn't pry. Slim frame, bald head, rats in cages. Shitblood for sure, but there was something else. A history that he formulated, a history that intrigued him.\n\nHe smiled again. \"Very new. I'm not dressed for the day, I'm not dressed for this weather...\" He was cooling down, but was still extremely warm, so he untied the string on his shirt, exposing his shaven chest. He leant back on the grass and looked up at her. \"So what's your job, girl? Pays well?\" He was clearly just making small talk.\n\nAs he spoke he took out the purse from earlier and started flipping it through the air, just like the apple, making sure his gaze kept half on the girl, reading her expression and body language."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nShe liked the man's voice, it seemed a good deal too friendly for the armour he had donned. She felt a pull on the back of her bodice and tugged it free from the rats in the cage behind her which had undoubtedly been about to feast.\n\n\" 'am a rat catcha', pays 'bout as much as ye'd think.\" She sounded light hearted now, as if she had accepted her fate. *As if*.\n\n\"I catch 'em, sell 'em to the guards or whateva' rich bastard wants 'em for 'is sweet'eart.\" She explained, moving a little to the side so he could see into the cages behind her, four small and stacked two by two.\n\nShe nodded to his armour,\"You look'a good deal too fancy for th'slums. Might wanna watch yerself too.\"\n\nCecily hadn't had much trouble with the bad parts of the city since she was quite young, but she knew anyone who stuck out would certainly be a fresh plaything for all those who lurked in alleyways and gutters."
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud \nTonate Proper\n\nSeeing the rat cages properly, he was decently impressed with the girls work. Being a rat catcher was no easy work, he had known other Shitbloods who had the same job. He had queried if that line of work was ever for him, then pickpocketing had come up and his heart was taken to it in an instant. She spoke as if she were happy with being a rat catcher, and Daud was almost disappointed by her cheerful disposition, she spoke like she accepted her job and was resigned to it for life.\n\nShe noted his armour, dulled, black leather. A piece for his torso, right shoulder and his forearms. He could go without it. Hell, he wanted to go without it. Sell it for some coin and set up a little market, live a quiet life maybe. He laughed at the thought, as well as the comment about him being too fancy, \"Fancy? For these streets? A Kingsblood could walk through your market, clad in gold and he'd be seen as an equal.\" Although the comment sounded silly, he meant it. He thought the caste system was unfair. \"But I shall watch my back if that is what you advise.\" \n\nHe stared at the girl for some time, deep into her eyes, trying to suss anything out that she wasn't saying. He caught himself staring and apologised, \"Sorry, it's rare I find people akin to your looks. It's also rare that people do not introduce for longer time than this...\" He clearly wanted her to give her name first, to see what type of person he was talking to."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nThe corners of her lips upturned into a grin at his comment,\" 'ere's honour in armour 'roun' 'ere. Thieves fight dirt'y and bare breasted if they 'ave'ta.\" She warned him. Though she knew a good thief wouldn't have to fight. \n\nCecily cared little for the caste system. She knew she'd never rise above a shitblood, though that didn't stop her from hoping she would make a name for herself.\n\nThe rat catcher's thoughts had taken hold of her, distracting her so that when the man apologised she had to shake her own head to adjust her attention-only to laugh a little at his words.\n\nThe shitblood was alright looking, she knew she could catch the occasional boy or girl's eye and she didn't mind a flirt, she she stood from her cart and walked over to sit on the grass closer to him.\n\n\"Usu'lly, 's the gentleman's job to intr'duce 'imself first,\" She pointed out with a teasing edge to her tone, fingers tugging at the grass.\"But it d'pends who ye' ask. Mouse is wha' am known by.\""
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper \n\nDaud watched the girl as she spoke, and he watched with intent and pleasure. She was good at out-wording him, she had the gift of the gab for sure. Every time she smiled and spoke, he knew she was lightening up to him. The more she spoke, the more confident he was to speak back.\n\nHe took careful note of the warning of thieves, and smirked to himself. *A thief around here then, is often a shit one...*, he thought to himself. If a thief has no protection from a blade, and gets into a fight, then that's two shortcomings. Daud only wore armour to scare away potential attackers, but he knew that if he fought dirty he could best most. He never was one to brag about his fighting or thievery, but he would take pride in his work.\n\nAs she walked over from the cart, Daud looked up at the sky and smirked again, he had confidence that she had at least some amount of trust, or interest, within him. Either one was good. Sowing this seed in her mind was better done sooner than later. \n\n\"Mouse, eh? Well if we aren't exchanging full, then I am known to many as Raven.\" He laughed to himself, \"Who would've thought, a Raven and Mouse coming together...\"\n\n*And I am no gentleman...*, he wished to say, but he decided to keep it to himself. Friends in low places would serve him as well as in high, he didn't want to scare her away with grim talk."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nIt really wasn't hard to get Mouse interested in you. Toss something shiny at her and she'll play, as the saying goes. And there was rarely something shiny in the slums of Tonate.\n\nShe laid on her back next to him, a hand dragging through the stubbles remnants of her hair. She'd grown quickly to like her shaved head but it was still strange not to have anything to tug on idly.\n\n\"Raven? 'Ow *Cute*.\" She teased, scrunching her nose up at him as she spoke. She almost laughed as well as he kept talking, her mind going ridiculous places with the phrase.\n\n\"Buy me a few drinks la'er and maybe I'll letcha know m'real one, Mr Raven.\" Mouse suggested, eyes flicking to his and then back to her hands as they ripped apart blades of grass she had picked up.\"Where are ye' from? Ye'don't sound like yer from 'ere.\""
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper\n\nDaud laughed at her cute comment, looking across at her and smiling broadly. She was funny, slightly strange, the type of Shitblood to get you into trouble because they wanted a slice of cheese. She seemed intelligent, much more than the average person he talked to, and he enjoyed her company. \n\nThe comment about buying drinks made him laugh again, as got up on his elbows and looked down at her, smiling again. *Booze is all I need to get her name? Then it is sorted...* He thought to himself, taking a single coin and passing it through his fingers on one hand, before flicking it up into the air with his thumb and repeating, not ever looking at the coin, but knowing exactly where it was and where it would go.\n\n\"I am from many places. But I started out in Terresol.\" *He raised his hand up above him as he lay back down, pretending it was a bird in flight, following as he spoke, \"Then I flew, all the way to Ibethiel, before returning to nest in Terresol again. Then, this little Raven flew all over the place, before landing...\", his hand fluttered down and landed on the grass, \"Right here. Right next to a mouse.\" He spoke fantastically, and anyone could tell that he was a good storyteller, with a tongue like quicksilver."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nShe watched The Raven's hands as they tossed a coin between them and then again as he told the \"Story\". Suddenly, she felt the way she had when she was little and her pa was telling her a story before bed.\n\nTurning her head towards his on the ground, she gave a grin and then looked towards the clouds,\"You a bard?\" She joked,\"Sing me a song, songbird.\"\n\nPerhaps she was being naive. Talking to a stranger with such interest and joking with him only ten minutes after meeting. This man wore armour and looked no less rough than the ones she looked up to as a kid. Would she fall down that rabbit hole of crime again for a few nice words?\n\nMaybe she was beginning to want to. \n\n\"Y'suit bein' called Songbird, I think.\""
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper\n\nDaud didn't laugh at her comment but he did smile, copying the girl and taking up some grass in his other hand and playing with it. There was a certain innocence that the girl had, \"I am no bard. But I am knowledgeable in how to make people smile, so instead of a song, may I tell you a tale?\" \n\nHe felt bad for wanting to tell her the same story his mother told him, but maybe with that, she'd know why he was called Raven. Why he wasn't back in Terresol. Why he was kind to Shitbloods yet higher in the caste system. Why he was even here. Maybe the story would make her think and deduce his name. Maybe. He didn't even know if his name was as infamous as it was in different places, he doubted it severely, but things never turned out how he truly wanted them to.\n\n\"And songbird? Songbird... Sounds a bit too... Whimsical..?\" He laughed again, \"Songbirds aren't in my story either, so I'd have to change it around a bit if I wanted to tell it...\" \n\nHe was sure of himself now. Sure that telling her this would shed at least something upon his past. The past he loved, and the past he was proud of."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nMouse rolled onto the side to look at him properly.\"Aye, tell me a story, *Songbird*.\" She teased, fingers plucking daisies from the dirt. Her dress would need a wash after today, she was sure.\n\nTaking the daises, she looped them together over and over, creating a rhythm of a sort to do with her hands and keep them occupied as she waited for him to begin.\n\n\"Y'suit Songbird ov'r Raven. Raven's too dark, I think. And not at all resp'ctable enough.\" She babbled, focusing on looping the stem of a daisy through another.\n\nDaisy chains reminded her of the ropes she would help tie together when she was little, the older kids would use them to sneak down the dumbwaiters of houses they were in service to. Once she didn't tie the rope tight enough."
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper\n\n\"Right, well you will be pleased to know Ravens aren't dark, Miss Mouse... It is merely your perception of them...\", he started. His mother had told him part of a folktale of the Raven, mainly built around his father, Daud Crawford, but he decided he'd make a new story. One especially for mouse, about him. No point telling a tale about the father you murdered in war.\n\n\"Long ago, before you were born, lived a handsome King. Every animal swooned over this King, even some men too. His name... Was... Songbird.\" He smiled as he spoke, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice when he told tales, and enjoying the tailoring to suit Mouses wants. \"Songbird was a just king you see, very fair. He had no gold, no coin, and his castle was a tree. Nothing a man could ever want, nothing any of the animals could ever really crave. But he did have something that belonged only to him. Bright, beautiful feathers that shimmered in the sun, and the best voice in all the animals kingdom.\" He smiled and closed his eyes, rolling into his side and facing her, before opening them again. \"Every single animal was jealous of Songbird and his talents, so to make them happy, he gave his son away to the poor so they could see him up close, or rather a part of him...\" He stopped and waiting for a bit, hearing the market place bustling in the sunlight, sitting up and looking at the people, like giant ants rushing around in the distance.\n\n\"But Songbird tricked them all, you see. Songbird has taken his name from his son, and gave him a new one, one that had never been used before... Raven... Raven was as handsome and sung as well as his father, but because he was amongst the people, because he was not a king, no one cared for his talents. So he lived like the other animals, getting by in the bare minimum, using his wit and cunning to steal and survive, until one day, he tried to steal from Rat...\"\n\n\"So he flew into Rats house, and he rummaged around, trying to find some cheese or bread or something to help his new family survive, when out of nowhere, Rat pounced, slashing Raven from jaw to eye. In an instant, Ravens voice became hoarse with pain, and his feathers burned themselves black from hatred, and he struck Rat with his talons, killing him.\" Daud's expression went somber, almost ashamed to be saying it out loud. \"So Raven flew away from his new family. He flew away to the furthest reaches of his land, and ended up in another one. People there didn't know who Songbird was, they didn't know where Raven had come from, or what he looked like before so he stayed. But instead of mourning his lost beauty, and crying over his now indistinguishable voice, he embraced the dark. Because in all honesty, that's where a Raven feels at home...\" Daud stopped speaking, sat upright and staring at the people in the distance still, the smile removed from his face. \"That's why I'm known by Raven. The Songbirds didn't want me...\" He smirked at his own comment, looking down at Mouse, hoping he hadn't scared her away by telling her it all."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nMouse was not stupid, she was actually quite smart considering she could read nor write and had a very basic perception of numbers - but, she was slow. \n\nSo she listened to the story, loosing herself in the imagery of birds and vicious rats as nimble fingers looped daisies around each other. An action so repetitive she seemed to be able to do it while looking at the Raven. \n\nShe didn't realise that it was not a story the boy was telling her but rather an allegory. But she didn't know what it was about. \n\nCecily was quiet for a long moment, hands stilling a little as she slowly came to understand. It was another short moment before she knew what to say after that.\n\n\"Oh,\" She exhaled,\"Their loss.\"\n\nIt was a lot to take in in such little time, especially about a stranger. But at least it kept her day interesting."
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud\nTonate Proper\n\n\"I suppose.\" Daud smiled and exhaled slightly in a semi laugh. He stared back at Mouse. \"You really do know what to say after everything don't you?\"\n\n*Smart,* He thought, *Too smart for a rat catcher.* He stood up and dusted himself off slightly. \"So, Mouse... What's your story? If you don't mind me asking?\" \n\nHe looked off in the distance at the market again, his eyes like and eagles, darting from person to person, purse to purse, deciding which ones would be easy pickings and which ones would. He shouldn't have work on his mind, but he did. Daud always thought about the next purse he would pick, or the next person he would be tasked to kill. All for coin supposedly, but like he said, it was because he liked it. He loved the rush of stealing, the fear of getting caught, the rush of killing. All of it."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nShe watched the man stand up as she stayed on the ground, it wasn't as though she had anywhere to go. \n\nThe hint of a frown showed in her features as he asked about her story. Not that she had much of one.\"No offence, lit'le Raven,\" She began.\n\n\"We're still strangers and yer story could be completely made up,\" She explained, face and voice apologetic,\"Maybe some other time-\"\n\nShe was caught off as she noticed some children sneaking around her cart, sticking their fingers through the bars and trying to pick a lock.\n\nStanding, she waved her arms at them,\"Away wit'yah!\" She scolded,\"I know who y'wee bastards work fer, fuck aff!\" \n\nThe children scattered and she went to check her locks quickly, grumbling about what little shits kids could be."
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud \nTonate Proper\n\n\nDaud looked slightly hurt by the strangers comment, but he wasn't too affected by it. Mainly because she was completely right. As she spoke he saw the kids approached and scanned every single one of there faces as they worked on the locks.\n\nBefore he could speak, Mouse beat him to it, shouting at them to scram, and Daud backed off slightly, treading away from Mouse as she stood.\n\n\"And who do they work for, Mouse. I may be a stranger, but a Raven would be happy to find the little worm who causes you trouble...\" \n\nA slight smile set across his face. He wanted to prove to the woman that he could be trusted, even as a thief and an assassin, that he wasn't a bad person. He was just inclined to bad habits."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nMouse checked on the rodents, throwing some grass and the daisy chain she had made into the cages for the animals to eat, hoping the kids hadn't scared some of the fancy rats. Scared rats tended to lash out and they were much harder to sell.\n\nPolitely, she smiled at the Raven, freckled cheeks crinkling her eyes,\"I don't really know,\" She admitted when she was sure the kids were out of ear shot. \n\n\"My connections aren't what th'used t'be and fer all a'know, they could jus' be tryna act cool in front of each other.\" She explained, a sigh soon escaping her lips. She looked at the sky to see where the sun was and she figured her day of peddling was probably over.\n\nShe took the cart by the prongs at the front, lifting them up like a backwards wheelbarrow,\"I should get 'ese 'ome.\""
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud \nTonate Proper\n\n\"Well Mouse... If you ever need my help... You'll find me. Somehow.\" He smirked and waved her off, before he picked up his armour and put it on himself, before putting his hood up again. He took out a dagger and looked at her, \"You have one of these?\" He tosses it up in the air before catching its blade and thrusting the hilt toward her. \"If you don't I suggest you take it. If there is someone after you...\"\n\nA subtle test. If she took the dagger maybe he had a chance to make her his apprentice, and if she refused then maybe he had none. He would know by the way she reacted, the way she would respond."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nSeeing the hilt in front of her, Mouse studied it for a moment. She had a dagger at home but this one looked a good deal better than the old one, and she could always sell the other one to a less fortune family. \n\nSo she took the hilt and carefully twirled it finger by finger as she had learned when she was younger, though her hands were not so practiced anymore.\n\n\"See you around, Mr Raven.\" She told him, giving him one last smile before heading towards her house."
},
{
"author": "rendog__",
"message": "Daud Grimaud \nTonate Proper\n\n\nDaud smiled widely as she took the blade and spun it in her fingers. Worthy skills, and a worthy apprentice. He bid her farewell and vanished into the market, not leaving a trace that he was there in the first place."
}
] | 205 | 5,287 |
374.714286 | 2020-08-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nAbroad at sea\n\n\nReports of slaving ships terrorizing the smaller islands off the coast of Tardide have been flooding in recently, with messengers coming in by the droves. The last incident that finally caught Lady Fransiscana Dwyer's eye happened just a day before the expedition. It was when the magistrate of Hainii- a small settlement off the coast of Windrip under Dwyer jurisdiction, washed ashore, threw up nearly a gallon of seawater, and bolted with the last ounce of his life's energy into the embassy and died- but not before begging the Directress of the Dwyer Armada to liberate his island. The jarring feat told her two things: one; the situation in Hainii- was so dire and horrifying that the magistrate himself risked pneumonia and drowning to swim to Windrip, and two; that there were still people holed up in Hainii for him to have found any hope to have attempted his final diplomatic mission fighting the waves.\n\n\nLady Fransiscana, having seen the urgency of the situation die on her office floor, sent for her twin, the Lord Admiral Fransiscus Dwyer- whom she lovingly calls Fransi, to take care of the matter and hunt down the slaving ships.\n\nReconnaissance dinghies screened foreign ships coming in and out of all the ports and those spotted just beyond the shore and concluded that the slaving ships came from Amoroth, specifically junks from the Xandrian region. Fransi, upon receiving the 'all clear' from his sister, hopped into his flagship, 'the Tidesplitter' and set out with a small scouting party compromised if his flagship and a frigattine as a vanguard or escape vessel should things go south, *Or as south as one can go in these Islands...*\n\n\nThey left an hour before the sun donned his night cap, just as the moon began her ascent. The waters were calm and the silhouettes of the jagged shoreline and rock faces were still clear as day, having no fog in the air that night to obscure their treachery. A few miles into the open sea and there they found a lone slaving ship, of Xandrian design just as the dinghies reported, sitting there on the sea. Its mast rocked back and forth in the wind like a reed, with nothing or no one in or above the vessel to weigh her down. Ghost ship. This crow's nest had no chicks. \n\n\nFransi gave the signal to have the Tidesplitter pass and take the vanguard position. A spotter and driver confirmed that the vessel was indeed empty. Fransi gave the order to board ship, with him at the forefront. Sabers drawn and crossbows loaded, they investigated the empty slaver."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nAdrift at Sea\n\nNight began falling, and soon it would be cold again. Xin looked out at the sea once more, to try and see anything. Land or otherwise. Over the horizon a small shape was making itself known, barely visible to the slight distortion of distant water's edge and sky's connection. Like an off-white triangle emerging from dark waters cast on a backdrop of the late sunset's purple sky. \n\nCertainly light headed from only drinking alcohol and sea water, Xin rubbed his eyes and blinked back the tears of early sleep. \"Coming?\" Opening his eyes he looked back out, and an electric shiver ran up his back. Every hair on his body stood on end as he realized that another ship was coming towards him. It had crept fully into his vision and was making quick work of the distance between them. \n\n\"Danger!\" He snarled and gripped the railing so hard it cracked, pulling his head and shoulders low so that he was barely peeking between his hands. \"New danger.\" The only experiences he'd had with ships thus far had been this one, where he'd been tied and bound, taken from his home. \n\nThere was a moment where he forgot the oncoming boat. Forgot everything about this moment. Only the word home remained in his mind. A word that had meaning, it had comfort, it was safe. \n\nBut he had no idea how to get home.\n\nThe violent surging adrenaline in his blood cooled, and evaporated off of him like hot steam in cold air. Savage as he was, he was still human with a heart that beat for the comfort of home. A home that was now, to his knowledge, lost forever. \n\nBacking away from the edge he sat down at the front of the ship and rested up against the forecastle. Repeating quietly to himself the words, \"Want home.\" Over and over again."
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nOn a Xandrian Slaver\n\nThe air was thick with the perfume of the sea, but the stench of human still lingered, the hot night drawing it out from the floorboards. There had been people on this boat not too long ago. In Fransi's mind, the expedition 'find and destroy, had just turned into a 'find and rescue'.\n\n\"Sabers at the knee, men.\" Fransi ordered his men to lower their weapons. \"Let's look for survivors\"\n\n\"Wit all due respect, Cap'n\" A thick, Cockney voice bellowed from the line interfered. \"Would you be more comfortable with our swords up this...\"\n\n\"You heard my orders, Scroggs.\" Fransi imposed, cutting the sailor short of his suggestion. He straightened his back and gave a glare his crew had not seen in him since battle. \"Keep the sabers down, but have the crossbows ready to fire at anything that poses a threat.\"\n\nFransi turned towards the open deck and stomped a few times. If anyone was sleeping below deck, that would've awakened them. A few steps foreward, he took his saber and struck a barrel. A few more steps and he stomped on the deck again: anything to illicit any reaction from anyone who could be in that boat.\n\nHis crew followed close by, several parties branching off, imitating Admiral Fransiscus' stomping and striking. Any verbal call might cause for the survivors to hide. Random sounds and thuds were more likely to stoke their curiosity without startling them. The survivors, if there were any, wouldn't know if they were being saved or come back for by the their slavers, so tact here was key."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nOn a Xandrian Slaver\n\nThey boarded the ship, he hadn't even moved as they climbed aboard. He was so lost in his own mind that until one of them came directly in front of him did he actually notice they'd arrived. Lowered weapons and a nervous searching gait kept him calm. When they passed he knocked back in response to the largest man's stomping. \"Below!\" He shouted, not moving from the position he was in.\n\n\"There below.\" The tone of his voice was less than the smooth intonation of a normal man, more like a growl than actual speech. As if he'd been growling and snarling his whole life rather than speaking. \n\nThe guttural words touched the ears of the burly man, who marched over to the cargo hold and wrenched the sheet off. An absolutely ghoulish smell erupted from the hold with a swarm of flies, a week's work on sun baked corpses was suddenly unleashed in a miasma of noxious fumes. \n\nXin calmly plugged his nose with two fingers. \n\nThe image below of bloated corpses with what looked like claw marks across their chests and throats, caved skulls and necks of both slaves and slavers. Wounds that spelled lethal blows one and all on a crew of armed men and strong bodied slaves. And suddenly the realization struck Scroggs, that whoever had spoken had done this to them. \"Cap'n! Look!\" He screamed as he wheeled around, crossbow raised, looking for the source of the voice.\n\nTo his surprise there was a single passenger at the front of the boat, sitting down with two fingers in his nose. Shabby, with bloodstained rags for clothes and a pair of wild emerald green eyes. Who was neither moving, nor speaking.\n\nXin waved to the man."
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nOn a Xandrian slaver\n\nThe scene could cause blood to curddle and the weak to succumb to the clots it would produce within them. The smell was something that not even a thousand pigsties full of dead swine could replicate, and the scene was that of carnage that no prayer or requiem could ever make holy. \n\nFransi stood sternly, but his stomach churned at the sight of the slaughter. Scroggs ran up to his captain, who with tactile gestures from his hand to Scroggs, discreetly ordered for him to slide back in to the Tidesplitter and retrieve around ten feet of chain link. The crew understood each and everyone of them: sea barbarians and simple minded levies they might have been, they were still sharp enough to know that the culprit of the massacre stood before them, his figure slouched over and fingers up his nose. \n\nFransi returned the man's wave while keeping his saber down, though he held it tight and straight, as if he were ready to cleave through something any moment then. Tall men and quartermasters followed their captain's martial stance as they formed a barricade behind them. The crossbowmen hid behind the gaps between their ranks, their aim at the ravenous man. Fingers on the triggers and hands clasped firmly around saber handles, the men waited...\n\nWhat they were waiting for, they were unsure of. The silent order flew, and it told to wait. Be it as it may, *Thems be Captain's orders.*"
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nOn a Xandrian Slaver\n\nEye to eye with the Captain, he pulled his fingers from his nose and dropped both of his hands to the deck. \"Slavers.\" He gestured to the grate that was the entrance to the hold with his knuckles. \"Took me. Killed my mother.\"\n\nHe contemplated, trying to remember the word for it. Thoughtfulness filled his face, giving him an odd look. \"Tigress.\" \n\nThen he dropped his hand again with a thud and rattle as the remnants of his shackles clattered against the wood. \"Broke chains and escaped.\" \n\nThere was a long pause as he blinked very slowly, never once tearing his eyes from the captain's. \"Slaves stopped me. Slavers came to kill me.\" Then he pulled up the edge of his ragged poncho, showing a laceration across his chest right across his solar plexus. \"They took my freedom.\"\n\nHe dug his fingertips into the deck, pulling up curling scraps of wood. \"I took it back.\" It didn't occur to him why he was explaining himself to this man, he did not care for his opinion or pity. Something in him just wanted to talk about it, to get the words in his brain out."
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nOn a Xandrain Salver\n\nAll together, as if in perfect unison, the front guard dropped their sabers at their captain's command, a quick flourish of a familiar gesture holding them all in obedience to him. Scroggs was the only one moving about, weaving through the wall of men when he was sent back by Fransi to put back the chains and retrieve some rum and bread. Fransi then came forward, lowering his sword inch by inch until it fell by his side, the thud it made caused the crew behind him to take a quick and instinctive forwards stance. \n\nScroggs had just returned with a bottle of dark rum, a few days after the date but still good; and half a pound of hardtack. He set them on a portion of the deck that had not been stained in dried blood. He figured that the mad man was more scared than far gone, for had he been completely and utterly *Gone*, he would've sated his hunger long ago with the piles of dead meat around him, and the corpses would have been nothing more than skeletons.\n\nFransi set the bread and drink on the floor, and as a sign of good faith, backed off, ever so gently. He continued treading backwards until he passed the spot where his sword had laid where he dropped it, showing no intent to attack if could. Over the distance between them, Fransi broke the silence with one word:\n\n\"Parley?\""
}
] | 360 | 2,623 |
328.571429 | 2020-08-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nOn a Xandrian Slaver\n\nLike a ravenous animal he leapt upon the hard tack and rum, shoveling it by the fistful and slurping by the mouthful. It burned his throat as he swallowed it, but it quenched his desperate thirst. The shameful way he'd completely lowered his guard to their generosity burned him, and were he not so desperately dehydrated his eyes would have welled with tears.\n\nSnarling and scarfing down an entire pound of dry bread, there was a full minute and a half of this profoundly uncomfortable event, after which he rose back and rocked onto his bottom. Sitting upright and looking back at Fransi, and closing his eyes slowly at him. \"My thanks. You saved me.\"\n\nPronouncing it back at him he failed to say it properly. \"Pah relay?\" He shook his head. \"This word is not known to me. You saved me, and I ask for help.\" Then he gestured towards the boat that they had come from. \"I cannot swim far and this boat does not move. Yours does.\""
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nOn a Xandrian Slaver\n\n\"Parley\" Fransi repeated slowly. \"We agree we do not attack eachother or cuase eachother any harm.\"\n\nScroggs ran up to Fransi's side. There, the Captain whispered something on to Scroggs, and he ran back to the Tidesplitter with half the crossbowmen. Fransi then turned to the rest of his crew, then after a quick exchange, turned back to meet the man's gaze. He took a step forward, retrieving his saber, holding it by the blade with the handle out. He stood there a while and after a moment passed, arched his heel and turned an angle. The rest of his crew followed. They moved over to the side, little by little, until there was a clear pathway from the deck of the slaver to the plank connecting it to the deck of the Tidesplitter.\n\nThis was Fransi's silent and discreet way of allowing the madman access unto his vessel. On the other side however, Scroggs had the crossbowmen guard the railings atop the captain's lodge, just as a contingency in case the captain's bearings pointed south and his assumptions about the strange man were false.\n\nIn that moment, it was all a matter of waiting. The crew, Scroggs, and Fransi himself were on tender hooks- waiting, once again, not knowing what they were waiting for."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nOn a Xandrian Slaver\n\n\"Parley.\" The concept made enough sense to him, the word was ugly though. \"No harm comes, no harm goes.\" He took a long gulping breath before throwing back the rest of the rum, tossing the empty bottle to the side. \n\nThe uniformity with which the captain's crew moved had not been lost to the tigerman. Like insects in a swarm they moved with precision and coherence, certainly more organized than the slavers of this ship. A melee with them would spell death, and besides, they'd saved his life. Grateful as he was, he had no intent to harm or even slight these men. \n\nAnimals are not so inhuman as to lack complete understanding of a debt owed. \n\nAfter a few moments where he blinked hard to recuperate his vision he rolled forward onto his hands and toes, rising a few inches and raising his hind quarters and shoulders over his head. Then he slowly prowled on all fours towards the men, eying them cautiously but keeping his eyes nearly closed as a sign of calmness and comfort. \n\nThen he crawled across the gangplank into the other ship, immediately noticing the difference in quality by the feel of the wood at his finger and toe tips. He waited for the captain to come across, rather than presume to know where he was allowed to go. This was not his territory, it was the territory of the captain and his men. He was being allowed in, not simply given free reign."
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nGetting on the Tidesplitter\n\nFransi let out a relieved sigh, as if a thousand pounds had been eased off his chest. With thrown over shoulders and a slumped over posture, he took off his black sharkskin uniform and folded it over his arm, ordering the crew back on board. The entire endeavour was mentally exhausting, for Fransi was mostly a 'go get em' class of problem solver. He was not used to using subtlety and critical thinking. He ordered the men not to speak of that night and when they'd return, he'd just tell Fransiscana that there had only been one survivor from Hainii that they could find.\n\nHe told his men to get to there usual stations around the ship and prepare to head back to Windrip before the sun rose back up and the evening winds changed. He instructed four cabin boys to prepare the stock room for their guest and bring out, as per his specific instructions: a tub of warm water, a bottle of cask rum, hardtack, and a sack filled with hay and all matter of cushioning. He asked the cabin boys not to tarry and sent them to their task immediately.\n\nWhen he reached the deck of the Tidesplitter, he walked up to the madman and, having witnessed him capable enough of coherent- yet broken speech, attempted to converse with him.\n\n\"Do you have a name?\" Fransi inquired. He was often seen and is actually more diplomatic and well spoken than that rushed 'do you have a name?' bit might suggest, but after seeing a room full of corpses, one could understand how much that could take out of a man's ability to muster up a few words. \n\n\"What do you call yourself? We'll need it for the ship's record...\"He looked down unto a green ledger than Scroggs had handed to him but couldn't seem to get his eyes off the writhing, corpse like figure before him- a look of unsurity and mellow confusion disfiguring his face from its normal resting expression."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nAboard the Tidesplitter\n\nA name was a label, something that people called other people. A means of distinguishing one from another, despite their clearly different appearances. The slavers had given him a name to distinguish him from the other slaves, even though he was visibly different from them. \n\nThis aspect of human behavior was completely lost on him, and he only obliged out of necessity. \"They call me Xin, Tigerson.\" He gestured vaguely in the direction of the ship they'd just left. \"Mother tigress tiger Son.\" \n\nHe wished he could convey the confusion he felt towards the necessity of names. The memory of humans seemed to be broken into words, rather than images. If they were near him, he spoke to them, they existed in his world and he would know them by their faces. If they were far from him, and he could not see or interact with them, they were gone. Why remember a label for something you will likely never see again?\n\nIt confused him.\n\nHe remembered what he'd been asked, and supposed they wanted more information. \"They hunted mother and took me.\" It kept dwelling in his mind, that thought of never seeing something again. \"Forced in chains. Forced in boat.\" The look on his face descended again, as he was crushed by the realization returning that his home was now something he was likely to never see again. \n\n\"Home gone.\""
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nAboard the Tidesplitter\n\n\"What are ye, exactly?\" Scroggs asked. \"You don't look very human-like to me, no he doesn't, doesn't he Cap'n?\"\n\n\"Scroggs...\" Fransiscus bellowed. \"If it be more fact that he does consume human flesh, then the very moment he hungers for it, I'm throwing you in the store room with him. Now can your shut!\" He bitterly hissed in a hushed voice.\n\nFransi turned to Xin and with his posture and body language, speechlessly asked for him to ignore his ignorant sailor's question. He walked over to the man, arms daintily akimbo to balance over the deck. And when Infront of him, made intentions to strike a deal with the man.\n\n\"Though I have to go over with my sister on what to do with you upon your return, I have plans on having you naturalized as a citizen of...\" Fransi ceased his thought and went over how he could convey his suggestions in an easier and more simplex way: \"...You'll have a place to live and job to work at. You'll be able to live by yourself and won't have to worry about slavers. You'll be free. Not as free as you want to be, but as free as we can offer you to be. Savy?\""
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nAboard the Tidesplitter\n\nFor the first time since he waved at Scroggs did he turn his attention back to him. The look in his eyes was completely inhuman, his eyelids pulled back both top and bottom to reveal the full whites of his eyes. Bloodshot veins surrounding a pure white ring around a bright green circle with irises completely dilated. Almost making the direct center completely black in their expansion. \"I do not look human?!\" He almost screeched these words, like a wildcat that had just been kicked. Then he looked down at him self. \n\nReeling back onto the balls of his feet he patted at his body, looking down at himself then back up at Scroggs. A lifetime of confusion at his differences with his mother had been answered by the arrival of men into his home, but now he'd been told that he did not look like men either? \"What am I?\" He parroted Scroggs' own words back at him, squatting on his heels inspecting every part of his own body.\n\nIt took a fair amount of time for Xin to comprehend this was not a real question, by the reaction of the Captain. Rather it was an insult, that he was not actually human but a thing unlike a human. When this realization came upon him he shot a far fiercer look at Scroggs, one that truly twisted his face into an inhuman visage. Every muscle on his face, every line every crease, truly turned his face into that of a bestial half man. His numerous teeth blunted emphasizing his canines, sharpened by constant scraping against bone. From his chest, not his throat came a deep throaty growl before he realized where he was and how he was here.\n\nHis face cowed quickly and he shot his eyes into the corner of the ship, averting his gaze just enough to not lock eyes at all with the captain but keep him in his peripheral vision. The questions that the captain had levied at him were not quite understood in his moment of frustration, but he responded. \"Yes. Free.\" Not exactly knowing what he'd just agreed to."
}
] | 300 | 2,300 |
434 | 2020-08-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer \nOn the Tidesplitter\n\n\"Right!\" Fransiscus said as he shut the ledger. With a wide clap of the book's covers and the ink on his pen dried off on his sleeve, he had logged the words into the ship's records:\n\n*\"Boarded; eve of the twenty third of the second month of the year's fourth quarter: Xin Tigerson. Rescued from Xandrian slaver. Note: lone survivor, half-mad, and in poor condition.\"*\n\nWith a gesture of whose lexicon was to the crew and their captain, almost an entirely different language between them, Fransi sent for Scroggs to prepare his office and check up on the four cabin boys who were preparing the lodging for Xin. As for the rest of the way to Windrip, Fransi felt the need- as if it where his own responsibility and no one else, to inform, at the very least, Mr. Tigerson of at least the barest finery and graces.\n\n\"Well, Mr. Tigerson. You'll soon be a member of civilized society,\" Fransi said to him. \"Which means you'll be living close to people, at least for the most bit, who will not hurt you as long you will not hurt them. You need not tell them of this, for that is what civilized society means: everyone understands not to hurt anyone else...\" Fransi explained. It was not as if he was explaining things to a child or a savage, but merely just reminding someone of things that madness might have leeched from their memory. \n\nFransi had thought that since Xin, having been found on a Xandrian slaver, was from Xandria and posited that though Xandria is a filthy, crime ridden realm of thieves and hooligans- it was still a society of some sort, a society that must have imparted some sense of social contract in the then young and still untainted Xin Tigerson. If he was in fact, not Xandrian, and of some island tribe of educated savages, then the explanation should as well suffice for now.\n\n\"You'll be a citizen, Mr. Tigerson.\" Fransi said. \"There are laws, prefects, and social norms to protect you...\" Fransi explained.\n\nThen almost absent-mindely, he reached out his hand to shake that of Xin's. He didn't notice that he had offered his hand to a raving madman, it was just out of sheer habit. But when he realized it that very moment, he was far too scared to retract it, fearing he might offend Mr. Tigerson."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nOn the Tidesplitter\n\nProtect? Social? Civilized? These were words he did not exactly understand, protect meant something like fight someone else for someone else. Social was something about groups of humans. And civilized was absolute nonsense, even the basics didn't make sense. Again though, this was not his territory, so he would follow his rules so long as he was here.\n\nThe man did that thing that so many people do, he extended his hand. They like touching eachother, grasping hands and hugging. So much like monkeys that climb from tree to tree, clinging and grabbing eachother.\n\nBut. \n\nCapitulation is the name of the game, so he rose to his full height from his sprawled position. Not even reaching the full center of the man's chest, but Xin's shoulder width was considerably wider than his. He extended one of his enormous python like arms towards Fransiscus' own.\n\nWhen he clasped the man's hand the veritable giant would feel the absurd grip and tough leatheriness of hands that had been used to walk, fight tigers and hunt wild game. As soon as he grasped it though, he released it and dropped back down onto all fours.\n\n\"Where do I sleep?\" He asked, glad that the captain had not attempted to punish his fury towards his subordinate and attempting to move the topic as quickly from that moment as possible."
},
{
"author": "redredcardinal",
"message": "Fransiscus Dwyer\nAboard the Tidesplitter\n\nFransiscus was delightfuly surprised when Xin shook his hand and retracted it after a brief clasp. It showed, at least to him, the barest vestige of mutuality. Xin then asked for his lodging, and it struck Fransi that his guest must have been rather tired for him to inquire about it. A quick gesture into the air and another quick gesture in response to him from the other side if the ship translated into an exchange that meant that Xin's lodging was ready.\n\n\"Well, we are on the flagship right now and we are rather full, so I had arranged for you to stay in a furnished store room. You'll have a hay mattress and provisions to see you through the night without developing the urge to wake up and raid the larder...\" Fransi explained. \"We expected a skirmish when we heard reports of slavers terrorizing one of our islands. A couple of recon dinghies confirmed that the Xandrian slaver we had just left was the only one around, though...\"\n\nThey had only been a few yards away from the slaver when a floating pyre and a few men on rafts with torches set the vessel ablaze. The hull caught on fire and soon enough, it engulfed the mast and sails. When they had reached a distance in where the horizon seemed to cosume the vessel, only the lower half of the ship was left. It then capsized and sank into the depths, the charred and glowing red if the smoledring hull was quenched in the deep icy waters. \n\n\"I hope you left nothing of value in that ship...\" Fransi told Xin as he led him to his lodging. \"We could've salvaged that ship for parts, but just as it is bad omen to make your house from wood\n\nPlanks used to seal coffins, it is bad omen to salvage the final resting place of those poor souls. In cremating the ship, we cremate them. I'd find it to be most cruel *Not* To dessecate their bodies in flames before having them fall into the sea. At least when they're all flesh and bone, they'll rest peacefully without the bottom scavengers bothering them...\""
}
] | 468 | 1,302 |
163.166667 | 2020-11-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nSlums of Tonate Proper\n\nCat sat on the edge of the bed in a tiny, dimly lit room, staring vacantly at the wall across from her. The light in her eyes, which had begun to dim years ago, was all but completely extinguished now. \n\nLittle more than a walking corpse, she had found herself here in the slums of Tonate some months ago. Running... Always running... She thought she would find her escape to the north, but instead she had only found more trouble and anguish, so she had then escaped as far south as she could. On the brink of starvation, she had found work here in the brothel, where somehow she managed to survive. Day in and day out. \n\n*Easy money lying on a bed, waiting for the customers that only come at night.*\n\nJust as well. She had entered her own personal hell long ago, and now...\n\n*Already dead.* \n\nShe could still hear that child's screams in the Witherlands. She could still see the crimson stained snow. She replayed it in her head over and over again every day, desperate to save the little girl in the snow.\n\nBut the story always ended the same. Always ended with anyone who got close to her-even if it was only in the sense that she felt the need to protect them-dead.\n\nHere in the dark, she could hide from all that. A revolving door meant she cared for no one, and a bit of work hid a multitude of sins. A bit of pigment added a lush color to her lips, while her skin still had a sun-kissed warmth to it. Kohl was used to line her eyes and darken in her lashes, while a red flower was tucked behind her ear. A beautifully painted face; a skull and a rose in one. \n\nThe door behind her creaked open, rousing her from her stupor."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\nOf all the dens of sin that dotted Tonate Proper, this particular establishment had always been Valkrin's favorite. The proprietor continuously indebted himself to the pirate due to a rampant gambling addiction, a debt which Valkrin allowed to be paid in time with the girls. Sure, he had to knock a bit extra off last year due to accidentally snapping a girl's neck, but that sort of thing happens. \n\n\"Captain Farensun, you honor me with your presence once again.\" Said the proprietor, meeting Valkrin at the door. \"I've got something special for you this time, a Terresolian girl, a taste of your home.\" A wide grin stretched across the man's face.\n\n\"A Terresolian, you say?\" Asked Valkrin after lighting his cigar. \"It has been some time since I last saw another of my countrymen. Does the girl speak Soltongue?\"\n\n\"How th' fuck would I know? All I know is her name's Katrina or some shit like that. She's upstairs, third on the left.\"\n\nAs he pushed open the wooden door, Valkrin began to remove his heavy leather overcoat, and greeted the girl in Soltongue. \"So I hear you're from Terresol-\" Were the only words he got out before he recognized a face from a lifetime ago."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\n*A lifetime ago*\n\nThat was one way to describe it. Another place; another time. Long enough that Catarina didn't recognize Valkrin, though the sound of Soltongue was a welcome, if somewhat mournful one.\n\nThe smile that she plastered onto her face came a little easier at the sound of it, and she rose from the bed to greet him, taking the coat from him as she replied, \"Yes, sir. I hope that pleases you.\" \n\nShe turned and hung up the coat, going through all the motions to prep for her client."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\n\"It certainly does, haven't set foot in our homeland for years. Not since I delivered Kelwynd's corpse.\" \n\nThe pirate moved across the room and took a seat, setting his cigar in a glass ashtray. \n\n\"What's your name, girl?\" He asked, \"The man downstairs said something akin to Catherine.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\n*Kelwynd? Vronti Kelwynd?* She froze, though her mind was racing. It had been a long, long time since she had heard that name. And delivered the corpse of Kelwynd? There was only one person it could be, unless someone was playing some cruel trick. \n\n\"Valkrin Farensun,\" She murmured, slowly turning to face him. Now that her memory had been jogged, she could see through the years, to the man she had met all that time ago. \n\n\"It's Catarina. Catarina Tanner, if you remember me,\" She said, her eyes searching his face."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\n\"Catarina Tanner? You're the one that was with that shit stain who gave my ship over to the Crown, no?\" Valkrin recalled the man's face, but not his name.\n\n\"Hell, last I saw you, Vronti was still breathing. What brought you to the Isles?\"\n\nThough he'd come here for a different form of entertainment, the pirate was delighted to have a conversation in his native tongue."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\n\"That's none of your business,\" She snapped, eyes flashing for a moment as she stood up a bit taller, raising her chin ever so slightly to look down her nose at him. Having someone-most of all, a dirty fucking pirate-speak ill of Alofen made her blood boil.\n\n\"It's just a shame that they didn't care of you as they should have. Alofen was right to turn you over.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\nValkrin chuckled to himself for a moment then sat up and glared at the girl, his amber eye glowing in the candlelight. \"Alofen turned on his crew, he boarded my ship knowing what would be expected of him. And he cowered when the Crown came in force.\" He took another draw of his cigar, exhaling the smoke away from Catarina's face. \n\n\"And before you forget where you are and who you're addressing, it wouldn't take much to convince the owner that you'll provide your services for free from now on. He owes me a great debt, and is desperate to pay.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nShe clenched her jaw tightly, glaring back at Valkrin with the same air of defiance as before, though this time she held her tongue somewhat in check. She wanted to kill him though. Hearing anyone speak of Alofen that way, after she had lost him and their child and so much else, was absolutely unbearable. \n\nShe was still seeing red as she spoke, her voice stiff and cold. She hoped that it held more confidence than she actually had. \"I can walk away from here any day. You have no hold over me, and I have no need to be afraid.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\n\"You're correct, I've no hold over you. You're oppressing yourself just fine without my help.\" Valkrin stood, closing the distance between them. \"But if you could walk away any time, why are you still here? Do you enjoy the endless stream of strange men?\" \n\nThe pirate was having the most fun he'd had in weeks, everyone has their breaking point, and Valkrin wanted to find this girl's."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nShe shied away from him, stepping backwards until she found herself with her back to the wall. Nowhere left to go; nowhere left to run. He towered over her, crossing the room in just a few strides. \n\n*Is this how it ends?* She thought, her heart racing in her chest. *Murdered by the same pirate that Alofen turned in.* Another joke played on her by the gods, it would seem, bringing her full circle and face to face with Valkrin all over again. \n\n\"I-I just need to earn a little more and I'll be out of here,\" She replied, cursing herself for the slight stammer and the little quiver in her voice. A dead giveaway. Truth was, the man that owned this place was as good at getting others in debt as he was getting himself in it. She was in deep, at this point, and for all her talk, she really couldn't leave. \"It wouldn't take me much at all to have it!\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\n\"Not much at all? Is that so?\" A lie obviously, but the attempt was decent. The girl's resolve was weakening, her eyes betrayed the stern look on her face. \n\n\"This is the Isles, girl. You could work the next hundred years and not have enough.\" He walked back over to the bed and sat down. \"Or, come work for me. Keep your clothes on this time for a change, see where that takes you.\" He smirked at the girl, and gave her a wink."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\n\"Work? For you?\" She snorted derisively, standing up a little taller and trying to reclaim her resolve. \n\nShe couldn't see herself ever working for Valkrin. That would be a direct betrayal of Alofen, and even though the man was dead, she still didn't feel like she could betray his memory like that. At the same time, however, she knew he was right. There was no way she'd ever get out of her debts here... Not any other way...\n\nDesperation and curiosity got the best of her as she asked, still in a somewhat mocking tone, \"What would I even do? Pillage the high fucking seas?\" She shook her head. \"Judging by those scars on your temples, I doubt I'd be safer with you than I am here.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper \n\nValkrin placed a hand on his scar, the constant reminder of his actions in Carmine Bay. \"These scars are a message, both to myself and others. I'm sure you carry more than your fair share of scars.\" He stood and put on his overcoat, strapping his blade to his back. From his coat pocket he retrieved a few coins, tossing them on to the bed as he turned to the door. \n\n\"Stay here and suffer, or come with me and we'll figure it out.\" He produced a dagger from the inside of his overcoat, pinning it to the door frame. \"Oh and on your way out, take care of the owner. I'm buying his business.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nShe quickly strode across the room, though she didn't take her eyes off of Valkrin. If there was none thing she had learned over the years, it was that you never turn your back on a snake.\n\nShe snatched up the coins, looking every bit like a street urchin scrambling in the street for food or coins they can get ahold of. Slowly though, the implications of what Valkrin had said dawned on her. Take care of him? And the dagger...\n\nHer eyes slowly trailed to the blade that was buried deep in the door frame. Slowly, she walked over to it and retrieved the blade. It was buried so deep that she had to use the door frame as leverage, but finally she had removed the blade. Her hands and legs shook as she followed after Valkrin and made her way down the stairs. \n\nShe had another chance now. A chance at escape, but to start her new life, she would have to end an old one. Completely. The old Catarina would never have considered such a thing, but now... After months seeing the worst scum the world had to offer, some people were worthy of being... Dispatched. How many nights had she laid on the bed, beaten and blooded? How many times had she pleaded for mercy? How many times had the owner...\n\nShe shuddered, gripping the knife with more resolve. \"If I do this,\" She asked, her eyes wide and frightened. \"If I do this, you'll give me my freedom?\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\nHer words rang like bells in his ears, reminding him of all those souls that begged for their freedom in Carmine. \"Love, you're already free. Freedom isn't mine to give you.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nShe froze, staring up at him with wide eyes as she processed what he said. She was already free? \n\nShe paused, glancing back behind her. Nobody was really around at the moment. She could just walk away from it all, leave her debts behind and escape. Move on, just as she had so many times before. Certainly wouldn't be the first time she walked away from her responsibilities.\n\nShe nodded a little, handed him the knife, and then ducked past him outside."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\nValkrin rolled his eyes as he took the dagger back from the girl. \"I guess I'll do it myself then.\" He muttered as he entered the office where the owner was. \n\n\"Usually I have a whole speech planned out for men like you, the ones who can't keep themselves out of debt. But I'm tired of coming here and reminding you that there are consequences to your actions.\" \n\nThe man screamed and writhed as Valkrin drove a blade into his gut repeatedly, making sure the man would feel every blow. Making a final slash across the man's stomach, Valkrin reached in and pulled out the man's intestines to show him. \"Seems you weren't as gutless as I assumed old friend.\" The Pirate chuckled as the light faded from the other man's eyes. \n\nHe'd send a few boys to clean up the mess, and another to have the deed to the building moved into his own name. By this time tomorrow no one would even remember the man's name."
}
] | 133.5 | 2,937 |
455.153846 | 2020-12-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nWater Lily Gardens, Maith Mansion\n\nTraining was always something Puck could feel... Somewhat relaxed at. Be that before a wooden dummy or a sniffing squire, he always found some sort of Zen beneath the beating sun of the Southern Isles when he was doing *Something* Violent. It was what he really shined in, that was certain. \n\nHe was abrupt, powerful, and always hit the dirtiest, weakest spots if he could. That's what made him so... Popular. And by popular...\n\n\"Hey, Snæch!\" A voice called out. A smug boy, also a ward there, maybe a year or two older than Puck. He was a bastard, everyone was pretty certain, although he swears he knows his mom... He had a case of being an insufferable, annoying little prick with a sloppy tongue. Not to mention those big ears... \"Snæch!\" He called out again.\n\nPuck stopped his attack on the dummy and lowered his sword, glancing back with already a warning in his eyes. Unlike the buffoon in front of him, Puckgordon was what people call a pretty boy. With glistening blue eyes and raven black hair, not to mention the lack of scars on his face and body despite the fights he was into, this boy was blessed. \"...What.\" He responded shortly.\n\nThe smug boy grinned wider, looking at another squire who had a knowing grin. \"We were all just wondering what Puck was short for.\"\n\nWard Snæch saw this coming. He dropped his practice sword, staring at the bastard with a fire ignited in his eyes, his head slowly tilting down. \"Puckgordon.\"\n\n\"Oh, really? Well Stan had his money on Piss Cuck, but *I* Said Pussy Fuck!\" He stabbed with his words, laughter trickling amongst the squires.\n\nOh, the words, they stabbed. They always did. Everything did. Puck clenched his jaw, plastering on a small, psychotic smile. \"Oh?\" He said, stepping forward. \"Well...\"\n\nNow in a short distance away from the other ward, Puck sprung into action, knee striking up to the boy's nethers and hands wrapping around his neck in a strong hold.\n\n-\nEveryone stopped laughing. They always did. \n\nPuck was violent, tackling the boy to the ground and bearing his teeth. \"I'm better than a fucking big-eared bastard!\" He hollered, the boy swinging at Puck's head as he struggled in the chokehold. \n\nPuck lunged down, teeth digging onto one of those so-called ears and ripping and tearing, harsh squeals coming from the victim like a stuck pig.\n\nOh, Puck would pay for this, somehow, but at this moment? Bliss. He spat out a chunk of flesh, punching at the boy repeatedly as a guard finally was able to run over and peel the feral Melsi from the crying, squabbling older kid.\n\nPuck smiled, blood dripping from his mouth as he looked at the other squires, a few of them looking a tad ill.\n\nHe pointed at a different squire. Stanley, the one mentioned before. \"What's my name?\" He called out in a playful tone, as he was drug away."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov, Seneschal of the Maith Mansion\nThe Court of Skulls, Tonate Proper\n\n It had not taken long for the Pirate King to hold court following his return to Tonate Proper. He had arrived early in the morning on black sailed ships, concealed both by the black of night above and the inky waves beneath him. At his own request, no festival had been planned, no waking of the loyal servants and people of Tonate Proper with great bells and war drums. When the people of Tonate Proper awoke that morning, they would find that their King had returned and resumed his duties, almost as if he had never left in the first place. Silas had pored over the letters that the Pirate King had sent back to him. They were overly formal and written in the kind of language that portrayed a certain lack of faith in the discretion of his household servants. Silas had made sure that the men tasked with handling the letters of the Maith Mansion could be trusted, but the Pirate King had never been certain of any loyalties where blackmail was involved. Evenso, Silas had the letters sweet to read.\n In his own special way, the Pirate King had written that he missed the Isles, that he missed Tonate Proper, and that he even missed, as he had been written, the Seneschal's \"Tireless and endless devotion to upholding the honor and integrity of both the crown and it's incomes.\" And although _that_ had made his heart flutter in his chest, the Seneschal had not taken any liberties to preparing a feast customary in the return of a King, let alone his Majesty Bradai Maith.\n\nIn the same letters, Bradai had also mentioned missing things being normal, and peaceful, and quiet, and so when it came to receiving him, Silas did so quietly, with a small group of servants. Whereas typically he would have prepared a grand feast, instead he prepared a perfumed bath, steaming in the King's great copper tub. Despite his exhaustion from the four long weeks at sea with his sister, Bradai had allowed Silas to clean him, and they even engaged in some light conversation. Quickly, the conversation turned to what he had missed and the most pressing matters of concern. Flippantly, he had mentioned a dispute with stonecutter's guild in the Shrouds, and that was enough to get the Pirate King to forget about his weariness, setting him to ranting about standardized labor costs and the going price of bloodstone. When he had whipped himself up into a lather, he sunk deep into the water and tipped his head back, closing his eyes and asking quietly if the Seneschal could trim at his beard. Silas leaned down and placed a light peck on a kiss on the King's lips, as quick as a bird, and had said that it was all he had wanted to do since he had left. Although he never would have said it, an inkling of a smile crossed his King's face then. After the shaving, they had retired to bed, telling the men outside his door that they would be discussing grievous matters of state, and not to bother them for any reason. Five hours later, when the sun eventually did rise over the city, the Pirate King awoke, slipped on his finest raiments, threw a salt-stained, weather beaten trenchcoat over it and woke the Seneschal, telling him to be ready to hold court within the hour.\n\nThe Pirate King had dealt with the stonecutter's guild right away, rectifying the worker's dispute and assuring them that he would bring the guildmasters that had lowered the price of their goods to court and discuss their thinking. Despite having said seemingly nothing at all, the workers had seemed pleased with the result and left without so much as an angry face. Then, a myriad of requests from his many wives, asking to bring their family members over to increase the size of their already bloated courts. For all but one request, an Amorothi concubine disguised as a jester, the Pirate King relented. And then, of course, there had been the matter of the Melsi Ward. The boy had been training in the Water Lily Garden when he was set upon by a few different boys. They had known of the ward's poor temper, but they had not known that when incensed to anger Puckgordon Snæch would jump on top of one of them and bite their ear off. Silas had smiled when he heard about that. He knew that Melsi had a taste for flesh, and in that way they were kin, but it was rare to see a boy so ready to feast upon his brothers in arms. He had urged the King to provide him with a quick and well earned lashing, and to allow him to take the boy into his own care following the punishment. Bradai had said nothing in response but supplicated a curt nod, which all but meant that Silas could do as he pleased. Whether that was to heal his wounds or to cut him open to see if the Melsi really _were_ filled with toads, it did not seem to matter. \n When the herald pounded on his drum and announced the arrival of the Melsi Ward, he was brought forth fettered in chains, all subject to the prying eyes of those who had assembled to see the King's judgement. \n\nWhatever muttering that had been taking place fell to a hush when the Pirate King asked for the boy to state his name for the record."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Court of Skulls, Tonate Proper\n\nFor starters, Puckgordon thought the *Chains* Were a bit much... Oh, who was he kidding? The reputation he held now, chains were perfectly fitting. He almost thought they were stylish. He held a small smirk on his face, blood still dried from the bastard on his chin and nose. His eyes, striking blue, reflected the ocean in them, a long leap from the swamp where he hailed from. It was almost as if he belonged here. \n\nBrought before the king, he looked up at him with... *Some smidgen* Of respect. He bowed, even. Well, he couldn't bite the king's ear off without dying, so he at least had to respect it, even if he hardly knew him for being one of his Wards. When asked to state his name, he gave a small, knowing smile.\n\n\"Puckgordon. Snæch.\" He said clearly, anunciating everything properly, not a mumble in him. He smiled a little more as he asked what he had to say for himself.\n\nHe glanced away for a moment, toward a few young ladies that were hiding their faces behind their fans, in fear or flirtation, it was probably the former. \n\n\"I do not ask forgiveness from the king or his court, because I do not apologize for what I have done. It wasn't a mistake, and I knew the consequences of my actions. It's only a shame that the others couldn't know the consequences of theirs.\" \n\nHe said it eloquently, a tad surprising given his feral actions and Melsi background. \"Perhaps they'll know better, now, lest I bite off that other ear and make it even-\" He was only able to finish his sentence just so before being tugged back from saying anything else, and he was sent back to a small snarl, his eyes looking down at the marble tiles he stood on. \"Heh...\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov, Seneschal of the Maith Mansion\nThe Court of Skulls, Tonate Proper\n\n The Seneschal watched as the boy began to speak, cocksure and smug. While Silas found joy in it, he could see that the Pirate King had found no satisfaction in the boy's response. He had recorded all of it within the thick, leather bound ledger before him, placed upon the desk that had been unceremoniously pushed into place before his great highbacked wooden throne. The boy that Puck had assaulted, Silas knew, was lowborn, an orphan of Tonate Proper taken in by the Master at Arms. Blood meant little or nothing to Bradai Maith, who himself had been a lowborn, but that did not mean it failed to play a role in his decisions. Puck's father was a Melsi, but a powerful one, and it was out of respect for him that The Pirate King would not go through with his usual form of punishment. \n\n\"Are you a beast, boy?\" The Pirate King set the quill down, in the fold between the great pages of his tome of records."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Court of Skulls, Tonate Proper\n\n*Are you a beast, boy?*\n\nThis made Puck... Stop. Stop smirking, at least. He kept a small smile on his face, but before the king, his eyes changed. Maybe realization? Or perhaps... Fear. He looked up, keeping the smile up for reputation's sake.\n\nWhat was there to say? He hadn't ever been asked that. He had been *Called* A beast, a monster, any other name in the book, but no one had taken the time to ask him what he thought. He *Never* Thought about it.\n\n\"I...\" He stopped, his smile fading. \"I don't know, your majesty.\"\n\nAfter that response, a thick silence wafted around the court like a fog, and Puck felt the heartbeat in his ears. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts.\n\n\"It may be that... I'm only a beast when I'm told I'm one.\" He said, a sort of existential dread settling in his stomach. \"Or... Maybe we're all beasts and I'm the only one that realizes it.\" The tone in his voice held that little tinge of dread, as if he didnt want to be a beast but didnt have a choice. \n\nHe saved himself, though, trying to put back on the smile. \"Put me in front of that bastard again and you can see for yourself.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov, Seneschal of the Maith Mansion\nThe Court of Skulls, Tonate Proper\n\nThe Pirate King recorded these comments as well, writing down every last word, or at the very least a paraphrase, into his book. As he wrote, he began to speak. Although he was not looking up at him, his voice still carried throughout the room. \n\n\"If it were up to me, I'd have vhat _bastard_ pin you down n' cut off your ear. I'd 'ave you wear it about your neck so vhat everyone can see what 'appens when you 'arm a man in my castle.\" It was only when he was done speaking that he raised his head to see the boy smiling at him. \n\nSilas watched as the Pirate King pursed his lips at the sight of the boy's smirk, his tangle of coppery beard growing tight around his mouth. \n\n\"I sent my men into tha swamps of Taemar during tha Council to go and chop off Melsi ears. My men came back wiff necklaces covered in grey ears and noses and lips. Should I do vhat to you, boy? No. Not out uff tha respect I 'ave for your favher. But I will not allow you to be a beast any longer. You are a boy. You are not a swamp snake, you are not a beast, you do not 'ave venom running fhrough your veins.\" \n\nAt once, he grit his teeth and slammed a hand on the arm of his throne. \"And you will ***Not*** Laugh in my court, unless you'd like to play a fool, boy. A one eared, one eyed, one lipped, no nosed fool. Hah!\" He laughed, but there was no mirth in it. \"A _snake._\" The King spit out the last word as if it was poison. \"A garden snake, per'aps. Nuffink more.\" \n\nThe King picked up the quill and scribbled down the boy's punishment, \"Fhirty lashings for fhree weeks, and in vhose weeks you will put down your sword and serve tha Court Physician, Silas Asgorov. If you are seen wiff so much as a _butter knife_ I will 'ave your fingers.\"\n\nSilas stood and thanked the King for the gracious gift, and before anyone else had the time to speak, the Pirate King ordered the Melsi brought above the dungeons, and that he'd have the Garden Snake whipped before sundown."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "The Garden Snake\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nWhen the king's annoyed tone echoed through the halls, it was all he could *Do* Not to laugh, so he just kept the bitter smile on his face, his eye twitching as he was dragged away. \n\nAnd as they ripped the clothes from his back, and took his chains and hooked him to the ground, he kept that same smile... Well, until the whip cut into his back. He didnt scream or holler, but with each whip, his face grew a little paler. Fifty of them. Puck could have sworn it was fifty-two or fifty-three, but he didnt count them, too focused on the searing, burning sensation, blood dripping from his back and down his side, onto the floor. \n\nHis body shook from shock after it was done, and they poured a bucket of cold water on it to really get the pain across. \n\nPuck's fingertips were numb from constantly being clenched in a fist, his eyes glazed with tears that could not fall, and his jaw ached from it being clenched the whole time. He was frozen as they unchained him, and pulled him up.\n\n\"'Ow do you feel now, boy?\" Came a deep growl from the man who carried out the punishment.\n\nPuck glanced over, looking at the whip, stained red from more than just his blood, and he smiled. \"Refreshed, thank you...\" He said in a hushed whisper, his teeth chattering as they drug him from the dungeon to be delivered to Silas Asgorov."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nThe Redstone Dungeons, as the name might have suggested, were made of the same fine red stone that made up the high red walls of Tonate Proper and the castle that housed the royal family within. The cells were spacious and airy, with slits towards the ceiling to let in a sparse amount of light and warm, salty air from the ocean shore below. In the daytime, they were comfortably cool and at night, the stone stayed warm along after the sun had set. Each room was constructed entirely of stone, even the doors, which had been ornately carved on the outside and on the inside fit so snugly along the smooth, red wall that a prisoner could lose track of it if they woke up disoriented. \n\nThey were certainly not of the caliber of cruelty expected of the fabled Pirate King, but those allowed to get comfortable would begin to notice the most interesting property of the room. The silence. While the room did have slits to let the air and sun in during the day, they could be shuttered at any time, and when that happened, the prisoner would begin to hear things they had never heard before. They'd start to hear their own breathing, their lungs filling with air and expelling them, over and over. Then they'd begin to hear their own heartbeat, the sound of blood rushing through their ears, the sound of their feet and hands on the perfectly smooth stone floor. Some, Silas had found, would go mad at the complete nothingness of it all, marking the walls with their own filth and blood in order to enjoy some basic stimulation. It was for this reason that the cells had to be constantly cleaned with water, lye, and scrub brushes, so that not even the smell would remain to keep it's next inhabitant entertained. \n\nWhen Puckgordon was brought back to his cell, he would find that Silas had converted it into a small place to clean up his wounds, the slits unshuttered, the air alight from a few black tallow candles, smoke winding up from their flickering flames.\n\nIn the middle of the room was a soldier's cot, a washbasin, a small chest of supplies, and a chair, currently occupied by the Senescence and Court Physician, who had been busily picking away the nonexistent dirt from under his immaculate nails with a knife. \n\n\"Puckgordon.\" He dropped the knife into the open chest of supplies, placing two fingers lightly against his bottom lip as he watched him get walked in. \"So _nice_ of our little hatchling to come at such an early hour. They must have made quick work of you.\" He tittered and motioned for the men to deposit him upon the cot, so that his back could benefit from the open air. \"I've come to disinfect what will inevitably be a set of very nasty scars. I tell my torturers to clean their whips, but you can never really tell. They could be...\" A bored hand spun in a circle as he summoned up the word, \"_dirtying_ them on purpose, for all I know. Trying to see if a Melsi will die from a bit of filth in his cuts. But you're stronger than that, aren't you?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nAs the men dropped him down on his stomach onto the cot and promptly left, puck didnt do much but shiver and pant, water already stained orange dripping onto the cot beneath him as he lay there pitifully. His hair damp and clinging to his brow, he looked up at Silas with a defensive glare, his teeth clicking together.\n\n\"I don't... Understand.\" He simply stated, but he didnt ask any questions, or state what he misunderstood. He just shook his head, narrowing his eyes. \"...You want something.\" He said in a whisper. Straight to business, ignoring the nasty lash-marks that oozed.\n\nThe minor speculations of whether or not he would die were also ignored, not much of a problem to Snæch, he had heard every single Melsi insult. Even back in Melsoh. He was accustomed to the hate. In fact, he ran off of it. \n\n\"I... Expected you all to toss me in the gardens, heh...\" He smiled a little, making a joke of it all, still, even after his punishment for the day."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nA gentle hand was placed onto the boy's neck, three of his fingers forcing his head back down onto the cot. \n\n\"If you insist on looking around, do it after I bandage up your wounds. I'm sure you'll agree that the last thing either of us needs is to aggravate your cuts.\" \n\nSilas removed a pinkened rag from his bag and began to apply pressure directly onto the cuts that stretched across his back. What they lacked in deepness they made up for in multitude, and he could see that marching the boy around had done little to allow the wounds to rest. He took a pinkened rag from his chest and soaked it in some water, pressing it down onto the cuts directly. He was sure that it would hurt the boy.\n\n\"For someone so distrusting and angry, you certainly are a friendly boy.\" His tone was comforting, but his fingers began to push at the cloth, spreading it out and pressing it down into the skin with a desire that was slowly mounting. There was some part of him, a part of him that was growing greater with every passing second, that wanted to hear him scream. He wanted to squeeze something from him, in the same way that he might play the violin. _Later._ he thought, and lifted the rag.\n\n\"Oh, young Puckgordon.\" Silas watched as a clear fluid began to drip down the boy's back, a sign of good health. \"I don't want anything at all. I already have it. You heard the King when he gave you your sentencing, did you not? Three weeks under my employ, with two more lashings over the next three weeks. As my first of many gifts to you, I'll let you choose when they are.\" \n\nThere was a knock at the door."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nForcing himself to remain still with his face pressed against the fabric, the only sign of pain that the boy expressed being eyes shut tight, nostrils flaring, his fists balling up, and his toes curling. Not a sound escaped him. \n\nHe could feel this sort of aura that came from the physician. It made him naseated. Or maybe that was just from the pain. As his body shook from shock, he kept his eyes close, and spoke back through clenched teeth. \"If I could, I'd kill... Kill him. That bastard...\" He said, possibly in response to the whole 'friendly' comment. \"Bugger had been... Leeching my patience... For a while...\" He smiled through the pain, tears springing in his eyes and running over his nose. Perhaps the Melsi boy was already insane, no red walls required. \"I bet he looks great without one of 'em big ears...\"\n\nAfter the offer, the choice, Puck was struck with a losing situation. He was not a coward, by any means. But he wondered if he could survive one hundred lashings in a day and get it over with. He was about to ask that very question when the knock came at the door, and he was cut off before he even began."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nSilas said something in a foreign tongue and the door swung open on it's hinges, silent against the smooth ground of the redstone cell. Two serving girls came in carrying a boiling pot of wine. Again, he spoke incomprehensibly and the two placed it beside him. Small wisps of steam came off from the top and the room slowly became filled with the sweet smell of spices and vinegar. The two girls left without a word.\n\nHis eyebrow raised at the mentioning of leeches, but he realized quickly it was just an expression to phrase. \"Have you ever been leeched?\" He shook his head, \"Unimportant, Puckgordon. Don't answer that, it'll only make me want to go and get my leeches.\" A pointed nail, painted a deep royal blue, tapped at his bottom lip. \"But they _are_ beautiful creatures, especially here. They grow as big as a man's hand in the swamps of Reeve. You could drain a man of it's blood in an hour, not that your blood would be of any use to anyone.\" He giggled at that, a high, lilting laugh, \"Well, what do I know? Maybe we'll figure it out, later in your apprenticeship. A lot of people think that Melsi blood is poison.\" After a moment, he took a new rag and dropped it in the wine. \"I bet you'd like that.\" \n\nAlthough the pot was still hot, the wine had ceased it's bubbling and grown cold enough to apply. He took the rag out of the pot and wrung it out gently, so that the cloth was still saturated. It would remove whatever filth still remained within him, but it would sting harshly. \n\n\"I once bit off a man's nose.\" Silas said, removing a leather strip from his bag and placed it between the boy's teeth, then brought his sleeve over the bottom of his palm and wiped away the boy's tears. \n\n\"He thought he had killed me once he took off my ring but...\" He chuckled softly and began to wash the wounds the wounds. \n\nAfter a moment, he continued, \"He was wrong, wasn't he, young Puckgordon? Because _I'm_ still here and _he_ died of infection.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nPuck grew even more uneasy as footsteps were around him, and the sweet and sour smell of hot wine permeated his senses. He felt his breathing hasten, panic happening within him, already knowing that this was going to hurt, his fate sealing with the leather strap placed between his teeth.\n\nHis teeth, though, were as beastly as a man could get, his upper canines elongated just enough to make you wonder if he really was a beast or not, and they were bared on full display as he looked up at Silas with uneasy suspicion.\n\nThe story was strange, to be said. But it did make Puck think about what kind of man he was really dealing with. The end of that story, where he died of infection... Well. \n\nA small sliver of hope. Maybe that bastard would die anyway, and they could even make a rumor about Melsi having venom. He nodded a little, not wanting to make much noise, still refusing to holler unless absolutely necessary."
}
] | 374 | 5,917 |
269.75 | 2020-12-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nAs soon as he had begun with the boiled wine, he was finished. Despite the pain that it had caused the boy, the rags had only open a few of the cuts, and the paltry amount of blood that seeped out now could be ignored. The red rags that had been used lay on the ground in a heap, and Silas bent down to grab the poultice from his back. He removed the lid on the smokey black jar and dipped his fingers inside, pulling out a glob of thick, yellow paste. \n\n\"Turmeric.\" He said lightly, and began to rub it over his wounds. \"It will facilitate the healing process so that next week, when we do this again, it hopefully won't open up any of your old wounds.\" \n\nWhen a thin layer was applied to his back, strips of thin white cloth went over the top of it all. The blood and turmeric paste began to mingle, and through the gauzy bandages it looked as if his entire back was covered in a pus. \n\n\"I won't let that boy strike you, my young, foolish Puckgordon. There is no reason to think that he'll treat you any better if he has you bent over a barrel, screaming for your mother. No. That nice man you met today will administer your next two. I'll have the dates arranged as far apart from each other as possible. Until then...\" A gentle hand wrapped around the boy's thigh as Silas pulled him off of the cot, being sure not to jostle the bandages across his back. \"Stand and lift your arms up as far as you can without disturbing the bandages. I've got to finish the job.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nLaying prone and shivering on the cot, Puck couldn't do much, spitting out the leather strip as Silas began to apply the turmeric. It stung, but it wasn't to the height that the wine was, the wine was like a fire. He shivered from shock, his teeth chattering loosely against each other as his back was bandaged.\n\nHearing him promise the boy wouldn't hit him, made Puck sigh a little, smiling bitterly. \"I d-don't mind... He can hit me as hard as he wants but he'll still be missing an ear...\" He said with a short huff, before being pulled up, groaning a little as he stood. A tad wobbly, his back tight and burning.\n\nHe had to psych himself up, closing his eyes and muttering to himself a little about how fun this was going to be. He slowly raised his arms, and finally, Silas could see old scars, hiding below the belt of his pants. Scratch marks, burn marks, probably all down his legs, although they were covered. Puck only stared at the wall. His arms up as high as his wounds would let him."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\n\"And then what, hmm?\" The Azaryan smiled with his wide mouth, looking over his body through powdered, half lidded eyes. \"He'll... Respect you?\" \n\nSkinny fingers nimbly plied at the gauze, wrapping a few lengths around the boy's chest. \"But you don't care about that. You don't care about anything. Which is why you bit his ear off.\" The thought alone seemed to bring him to his queer, tittering laughter. \n\nThe question he asked next was asked slowly, and calmly, and as routine as any of the other actions the Seneschal had taken that night. It was executed with the same care he had taken to cleanse the boy's cuts, with the same soft gentleness he now used in bandaging him up. But there was a tightness to it, an unspoken tension that gripped at it, and it seemed to suck the all air out of the room. \n\n_\"Did you like it?\"_"
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nPuck wobbled as Silas' gentle hands brushed against his chest and stomach. The feeling was gentle, not something he was used to, and it made him feel odd. To be taken care of. \n\nNot even the small amounts of servants the Melsi Nobles had wouldn't come close to him, even as a kid he'd be biting or scratching at people. \n\nSo when the question came from his caretaker, soft, strained, it sent a shiver down Puckgordon's spine, his arms lowering slightly, his eyes becoming almost tired. \n\n\"Yes...\" He smiled a little, a smirk, as he stared at the wall. \"Yes, I did...\" He scoffed a little and shook his head carefully. \"I did, I did...\" It was sort of like a guilty pleasure, just to admit it. And Silas made him comfortable enough for him to do that.\n\nHe looked away from the wall to catch Silas in the corner of his vision. \"If that makes me a beast... I don't... Want to be anything else. Don't tell *Him* I said that.\""
}
] | 250.5 | 1,079 |
444.875 | 2020-12-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nSilas deftly tucked the tail of the gauze between the folds across his chest and moved away from the boy, gently placing his manicured nailed upon his shoulders, bringing his arms back down to his sides. Once again, he was impressed with his own handiwork. The wounds would heal nicely and he could the boy to work in two days time. \n\nAs the man took a knee the boy gave his answer, placing his salves and bundles in the chest below the cot. He was glad that the boy had not been able to see the wide grin on his face. With the last clean rag inside of the chest, he cleaned the blood, wine, and tumeric from his hands. He reached inside the pocket of his jacket and took out his Academy ring. The sapphire, big as his thumbnail, glistened brightly in the firelight. \"Your secret is safe with me.\" He said, closing his long fingers around it.\n\n\"You're not a beast.\" The boy was a fledgling, a hatchling, a wet piece of clay and a gift. They were in a room in which no sound could escape, in the middle of the night, and the boy whispered the name of his King. Bradai had no ears in this room, save for his own, but still the boy whispered the name of his King. The way he had said it, turning around, paranoid. \n\nSilas got to his feet and made his way to him, standing tall in front of him and slipping the ring onto his ringer. Gently, his fingers traced along his chin, and the points of his painted blue nails found their place under his jaw. They dimpled at the boy's pale skin, and tipped his head up to look at the Seneschal. \n\n\"You're not a beast, my young Puckgordon.\" He repeated, his smile soft upon his lips. \"But perhaps...\" He dropped his hands, but his eyes continued to study his features. \"Perhaps we'll make one of you yet.\" \n\nFor a moment, Silas did nothing. But then he walked to the door, knocking twice, and stepped aside as the two girls from earlier reappeared. Light flooded the cramped room, and Silas motioned towards the open doorway.\n\n\"Do you care for a walk? Unless you'd like Yelen and Zasha to carry you to your room?\" \n\nHe looked at the two girl, then back to the boy, and said something funny in Azaryan. The two girls laughed in turn, but did not let it get in the way of their cleaning."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe Redstone Dungeons\n\nPuck closed his eyes carefully and looked down at his bandaged body, and he realized he didn't have a shirt with him, it was back in his old quarters. He took a deep breath and turned back, watching Silas. He shivered a little again, the pain subsided to a dull ache a while ago, and he felt entranced in his words. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, confused. Silas was surely close to the king, in a way, and yet... Was this against? Or for? Puck was actually one for loyalty, surprisingly, he just wasn't loyal to anyone... Yet.\n\nHe flushed pink, luckily the red stone and orange light hid most of it as the girls giggled, and he dropped his head down, stepping forward, only a pair of loose pants for comfort as he followed Silas out. He whispered, to Silas as he trailed slightly behind him.\n\n\"...Are you?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Outer Bailey, The Maith Mansion\n\nSilas let the question hang in the air as they exited the Redstone Dunegons. They crossed through a series of heavy wooden doors, ornately carved with stems, leaves, thorns and poppy flowers. Everything, it seemed, had been ordained with the royal floral pattern of House Maith. Unlike their mainland counterparts, the Maith Mansion was not like the manses found in the great cities of the South. It was a genuine castle, one of the largest and most expensive construction projects south of Terresol. As they stepped out into the night air, that fact became apparent. What was, in day, a bustling center of political gaming and commerce was now a peaceful retreat from the rest of the city, which seemed long from sleep. Silas was smart enough to realize, however, that despite the serenity, there were still prying eyes and listening ears. \n\nThey were walking along the great outer bailey, the red wall that stretched along the perimeter of the castle. In the front of the Maith Mansion, the Outer Bailey rose sharply in the middle of the city, seemingly cutting the wealthy Redwall district in half. In the back of the castle, however, the wall had been built right into the cliff, above the meager fishing village that his King had been born in. The sounds of revelry from the Stilts rose sharply up the sides of the walls, the faint echos of drinking songs and hurdy gurdies hanging in the air alongside the scent of cooking pork and fresh fish.\n\n\"I am a man of the Great Academy of Azarya. I am also an Asgarov. As his third son in his second family, I spent the majority of my youth tending to my father's vast estate, and when he eventually sent me to study on Ank'Veden, I became engrossed in study. I learned to read and write long before many children my age. I learned the magical arts of which I was capable, and where as my brothers excelled and gained official positions within the Academy, I became a Mage.\" \n\nHe rose his ring and it flickered in the moonlight. He pursed his lips and clenched his fist again. He could have said more. He could have told him about the duels, or when he had been exiled the first time, before his old King rose to the throne and sent him back. Or when he had found Bradai tied to a table by common street thugs and taught him how to truly read and write, and watched him grow smarter and wiser and more dutiful than anyone had ever expected him to be, and the queer sort of jealousy that had defined their early years together. But those were things best left unsaid. \n\n\"Beasts don't know that their beasts. I think you said that in the court.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe Outer Baily, The Maith Mansion\n\nPuckgordon followed slowly, and... Well, he felt more comfortable barefoot than with boots on. He was used to running through damp forests or deep swamp docks, picking slivers from his rough souls and digging his toes into the bark of trees to run from the servants told to watch over him. \n\nAnd following Silas, he kept his eyes ahead. When he had come here, before, he couldn't take his eyes off the landscape, so new, so dry, so light and airy. But now, he couldn't stand to see the walls and know that he was trapped within their deep redness, their smooth towering form a cage around his freedom. \n\nWhen Silas began announcing his backstory, Puck let it sink into his head, that this was a magic worker before him. It made his glazed over eyes sharp, feeling some sort of emotion hit his chest and fester there as he watched Silas speak, following his new Master's eyes to the glistening ring caught sharp in the moonlight.\n\nLooking back at him, he tilted his head to the side.\n\n\"...Beasts... Maybe not... But monsters... They know.\" He went to cross his arms, but physically couldn't, dropping his arms back to his sides with a wince of pain.\n\n\"...I've had leeches.\" He said, changing the subject and standing tall, which allowed less stress on his back. \"My older sister dunked my head into a leech pool in Melsoh.\" He looked over at Silas. \"So I pulled the leeches off of my face and pushed her in.\" He glanced back down at the ground. \"Our faces bled for weeks afterward, the wounds wouldn't heal.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Outer Bailey, the Maith Mansion\n\n\"That...\" He shook his head, \"That is an _awful_ story.\" \n\nHe began to laugh again, \"I mean, just a _terrible_ story. Here I am, waxing poetic about the life and you counter with a story about pulling leeches off of your...\" Something about the story made the man squirm. \"Your first lesson, my young Puckgordon, is that you do _not_ pull leeches off in an attempt to remove them. They're all mouth, and use a combination of suction and serrated teeth to stay attached to the skin. Beyond that, they secrete a poison that keeps your blood viscous. You've got to put salt on them, or burn them, if you can get a small enough flame.\" \n\nSilas looked down, over the wall to the stilts, and pointed a spindly finger. \"You'll go down there, tomorrow, and get me a bucket of those leeches we discussed earlier.\" Silas produced a small pouch of silver from the inside breast pocket of his deep blue longcoat and placed it into the boy's hands. \"One silver should be more than enough.\"\n\n\"There are people there, the poorest sort of folk that live near the coastline, that sell them for dirt cheap. Do _not_ get them yourself.\" The word was accented with a hard stare. \"Let me catch you rooting around in the muck like a common leech farmer. I will not have my assistant making a fool of himself within the first day of my employ. You will _wish_ for me to strip the skin from your back when I'm finished with you.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe Outer Bailey, The Maith Mansion\n\nPuckgordon blushed a little and furrowed his brow, looking away. He was more embarrassed than angry, which was a first. He knew he was in trouble, couldn't storm off, so he just turned his head and looked off. \"Well, I was five.\" He tried to justify. \"Not like anyone told me that back then... You just... Before you asked me about the leeches...\" He sighed, carefully crossing his arms slowly not to hurt himself. \n\nHe clenched his jaw, looking down at his feet as he was commanded. It made him almost... *Livid*. He hated being told what to do, as he was never a fan of authority, and to be called out as foolish before a decision was even made made him even more defensive, and he took a step back away from the pouch, refusing to take it.\n\n\"And undo all of your fine work? Tch.\" He muttered, getting a little hostile as he backed up more, turning to look back the way they came. \n\nHe didn't see the issue with muck. After all, he was Melsi. But he didn't say anything else but what he had already spat out, his body as hunched as possible in his state in an attempt to shield himself from Silas' warnings. He felt his lip curl and he looked back at Silas like a cornered dog.\n\nFrom that gentleness before to being a strict almost motherly figure, it turned Puckgordon completely off from it all. He was starting to grow fond of Silas, but this just reminded him that any person would... Well, tell you things that... Hm. Why didn't he like this?"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Outer Bailey, The Maith Mansion\n\nSilas watched as the boy grew withdrawn from him, stepping away from the silver. For an instant, he considered that the boy might be a fae, and his entire personality of irregularities had been a result of his twisted ancestry. But there were no deformities, no strangely colored eyes, and his body had been as normal as anyone else's. For a moment, he felt bad about it, but that quickly faded. It was not as if they boy was in a position to run to his room and lock the door. But that did not mean he couldn't apologize.\n\nHis lips grew into a tight line as the bag of silver fell by his side. The boy's tone was pitiful, a shadow of the defiant monster that had walked into the court that morning. The boy had trusted him to keep him safe, and even the most gentle of ribbings set him off. He would have to remember that. \n\n\"I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings?\" The question was a genuine one, although it had the wording of a taunt. In truth, he had hardly even realized that he had done it. He had been blessed with a glib tongue, a tongue that would have killed a man of lesser stature, but on him, won approval in every court he had ever been a part of. They called it honesty if you were powerful, and insolence if you were poor. Bradai had taught him that. \"You should know that I did not intend to hurt you, young Puckgordon.\"\n\n_This is your punishment._ He wanted to say, _You're supposed to be upset._ But the truth of it was that he had taken a liking to the boy. As his assistant turned, though, there was a feral quality in his eyes that had not been there before. Despite everything he had gone through, there was still fight left in him.\n\n\"The King gave you to me so that I might teach you. Teach you about his Kingdom, and his city, and his leeches at the docks. If you only take a liking to me while I strap you to the cot and tend to your wounds, then so be it. But when you are with me, you will ask questions and speak your mind. If you question my judgement, so be it. I can not promise that I will not hurt you, as our line of work is dangerous. But I will promise to keep you safe, even if that means that it's from yourself. This ring is not just for show, I assure you.\" \n\nHe sighed softly, and for the first time since their meeting, allowed for his shoulders to relax. \"You have had a long day, and I should be more sensitive to that, I suppose.\" He tucked the bag of silver in his pocket and continued to walk towards the castle, but turned around to look at him through half lidded eyes. \"We can get whatever you like from the kitchens and I'll show you to your new quarters. And we'll talk no more of business until tomorrow. How does that sound?\" \n\nWhether or not the boy would follow was up to him, but the Black Poppies all around them would escort put him in his chambers either way."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon \nThe Outer Bailey, The Maith Mansion\n\nPuckgordon immediately snapped his head to attention, reasoning Silas *Meant* To taunt him with his gentle question, his eyes narrowing and his lips parted to snarl something back. He froze, though, his aqua eyes starting at Silas as he repeated himself, and Puck immediately shook his head.\n\n\"I'm... Not *Hurt*, Hog's- you think I'm... No, I'm *Not hurt*.\" He stumbled over his thoughts, trying to stand tall again, commanding himself to remain more than just a scared boy. He clenched his fists in frustration as he looked down again, listening to Silas and gently shaking his head. \"The king gave me to you because I was a snake to charm.\" He said promptly, shaking his head a little more and turning away again, this time with a more prickly sense, but he was a little relieved at the thought of just... Being able to say things. Maybe he'd have that glib tongue. Maybe he'd have something worse. But, nonetheless, it didn't seem terrible. \n\nWhen Silas relaxed, it was visible, and that qued the same reaction in Puck, if only by a fraction, his hands unclenching. \n\nHe had never been... *Offered* Anything before. He was usually just told. He was never emotionally taken into account, but... With Silas, he was. It made him feel uneasy, the new sensation of kindness. \n\nHis bare feet patter quietly behind the Physician without a response, his head hung low as his back throbbed and ached. Although the bandages were holding, the orange mixture of blood, pus, and tumeric was already staining them, and by the morning it would look like a nasty bit of work. A healthy nasty bit of work at least. \n\nHe felt exhausted. It was true, but... He just... Part of this didn't feel real. Would he admit he liked this? This sort of attention? It tamed the beast, did it not? But that isn't what Silas wanted, was it? He whispered himself. In that quiet cell...\n\n\"A beast...\" He muttered under his breath, and he looked down."
}
] | 415.5 | 3,559 |
497.333333 | 2021-01-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper\n\nExciting things were happening in Roach's life. He was stood in the largest harbour he'd *Ever* Put a foot in, watching as people bustled by and prepared for the upcoming events. He was absolutely mystified, lost like a childlike state of wonder and majesty, wide eyes eating up visuals of ships he'd heard tales of, but had never expected to see before him. His heart has remained with the ships ever since he'd escaped his past, fond memories of sailing were flooding back into his mind and brought a warm smile to his face, he wrung his hands to thumb over scars from his journeys. The ship he was stood at in particular is one he'd certainly only heard as legend— the *Singing Siren*, where the crew was known for their song and rumoured to not stop. The ship itself was gorgeous, his eyes skimmed over proud sails and a sturdy bow, and his fingers itched for old days of running ropes on rocky ground. While Roach was near completely lost in his own thoughts, a stray coat passing caught his eye. \n\n\"Sir—!\" The words left his mouth before his brain could comprehend them, he spun on his heel to take a hop towards the man of legend himself, seen by Roach only in paintings. \"Admiral Elbaroda, sir, it's an honour. If I may have a moment of your time, it would mean the world for an introduction.\" A rugged hand placed against Roach's chest for him to give a curt but proper bow. Manners and etiquette, while not something Roach had quite perfected, were still very important to him. *Especially* When meeting an idol of his. His heart was beating fast, his white eyes focused on Retto while returning to a stand. A hand offered out, Roach's expression eager. \"My name is Roach. I work for the BMTC. It's a true pleasure to meet you, I was just admiring your ship—\" Roach cleared his throat and took a pause. He was speaking too fast, he had a terrible habit for speaking too fast. \"An honour, sorry. It's an honour.\""
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nElbaroda nodded to his crew. Everything seemed to be in top shape as usual. \"Alrigh' lads, I'm going ashore. Everythin' looks t' be in order. Remember thi'. We're home.\" His heart swelled with joy to be back in Tonate. Bearer knew it beat that shithole Taemar any day of the week. To a mainlander, Hangman's Harbor was a filthy pirate's den. Then again, most mainlanders hadn't actually seen Tonate Proper. The Harbor was a grand thing, even making his man-of-war the *Siren* Seem small by comparison. \n\nElbaroda swept his coat around him, and strapped his hurdy gurdy to his back. If he were still just a ship captain, he would have simply found the nearest source of rum and revelry to play some fine shanties on his instrument. Alas, admiralty had its perks, and its drawbacks. No doubt paperwork would be involved. \n\nHe stepped along the dock, surrounded by familiar faces, and those of strangers. The sounds of ships creaking, shanties singing, and trade-craft being done rang out across the Harbor. A 'Sir!' which called out stopped him, though. The one who said so sounded eager to speak with him.\n\n\"Wha' can I d' for ye-\" He turned with a smile to the one who stopped him, and was met with shock. The one who spoke with him wasn't human. Nor was he elf. He was unlike anything Retto had seen before, and he had seen a lot in his travels. He didn't know what to say to him, he had heard stories of nonhumans, and if he hadn't seen that shifter back at the Council of Marin, likely wouldn't have believed many them either. He was attempting to think of how to respond to the one who called himself 'Roach' -that is- until he introduced himself as part of the BMTC. What race Roach was didn't matter to him anymore. He was part of the BMTC, which made him family. Retto hesitated for just a moment, but then nodded and took the man's hand and shook it. \"Th' pleasure's all mine, Roach. I appreciate th' complimen's\"\n\nHe turned to the *Siren* \"I'm gla' ye admire th' *Siren* Too. She an' her crew are m' pride an' joy\" He turned back to Roach. \"Now wha' can I d' for ye?\""
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper\n\nHe was, undoubtedly, used to that exact look. Wide eyes, a cocked brow, sometimes a slack jaw or a hand coming to slap over a person's mouth. It didn't hurt so much anymore, the sting of being looked at so differently disappeared long, long before. And, thankfully, his excitement made it so that he couldn't even tell that his appearance would possibly affect how he interacted with someone he held highly. His glee was bursting at the seams, he bounced up onto his toes a few times as a hearty handshake occurs between them. \"I've heard many tales of her,\" He began, following Retto's gaze, \"But I've never had a chance to see her for myself before. She's even more spectacular in person than any story's come close to.\" He could hear the shanties, still, floating with the crashing waves and the hum of the bustling hub. For a brief moment, Roach relished in the merry sound before snapping back to the present. \n\n\"Right, yes. If you have the time, I had a few questions. You see, I want nothing more than to advance my career with the company. How did you do it? How did you advance, how hard was it for you? What was it like?\" His eyes glimmered with intrigue and awe, as if this moment would be pivotal to his continuation. But, noting that they were stood in the centre of the docks, Roach brought a hand to gesture to the shore. \"Can I buy you a drink?\" Roach didn't have very much to his name, but sparing a few coins in exchange for a conversation with an admiral, someone close to Bradai Maith, would be more than worth it to him in the end. \"You must be wanting a sit, anyway. The transition to land is rough after a long while at sea, isn't it? Makes you proper dizzy.\" Again, he gestured over to shore, that time with a nod of his head. \n\n\"I promise, I won't keep you long. But if you've even a few minutes to chat...\" Talking too much, he was. Roach quiets himself, clasped his hands together and did his best not to frighten the poor man off."
}
] | 477 | 1,492 |
283.833333 | 2021-01-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nRetto nodded as Roach praised his ship, and paused to listen to his men's song. Then, Roach had laid down a flurry of questions. He Retto didn't think anyone would be so enthusiastic to meet him, or to know his story. Retto tapped his foot a few times, then looked at the sky. He reckoned he had time. After all, the drow was certainly enthusiastic and curious, and Retto couldn't help but admire his fervor for asking questions. Retto nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. \"Alrigh', Roach. I'll take ye up on tha' drink. I 'appen t' know a few good places aroun' here. I'll answer all ye' questions.\" Retto was just as curious about Roach as Roach was of him, and he had some questions of his own. Who knows? Maybe Retto had found a good friend to share a drink with from time to time. One could never have too many of those, he reckoned."
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Wonderful!\" He exclaimed, clasped hangs coming undone only to clap back together. \"I'll follow you, then? If that's alright. I'm new to here, so I trust you can pick somewhere better than I. It must feel nice to be back here, this is an important stop for your ship, right?\" Already having fallen into step, he encouraged the two forwards with a few little steps towards the shore until he was positive Retto was leading the way. Roach could hardly believe the luck he was having, getting to not only meet but to ask *All* Of his questions to the admiral, right on his first day of being in Tonate. Things were beginning to look up for him, truly. While they were walking, Roach pawed at his pocket to make sure he had enough for a few sets of drinks on him. While he was working for the company, his pay was not yet *Good*— but he had faith that things would be better soon, once everyone saw his developments on Python and his successes with the company."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov, Seneschal of House Maith\nTower of the Seneschal, The Maith Mansion\n\nThe tower of the Seneschal was the tallest building on the estate, and although Silas was sure that was not designed to resemble the mages towers of Azarya, he could not help but feel that it held a sort of queer connection to his motherland. Mage towers were an instrumental part of every castle and manor in the far North. It was where the most adept in the family stayed, an honor that very openly explained that even though they all shared the same blood, one was undeniably superior. As far as he was aware, he was the most magically adept in the Maith Mansion, if not the Southern Isles, and so it only seemed customary that he would get the tower. He would not have gone so far to say that it was the _chief_ reason for his decision to become the Seneschal for House Maith, but certainly, looking down on everyone did have a certain appeal. \n\nThat was before he had moved in, however. Towers, he came to quickly learn, were a terrible place to live. The first thing that one realized when they moved into a tower was that in order to go to bed, go to a kitchen, go to the gardens, go to the King, or to go just about anywhere that wasn't the top of his tower, he'd have to go down the stairs. The second thing one realized was that if they had to go down the stairs, it was inevitable that at some point, they'd have to go up them again. There were a lot of stairs in the tower of the seneschal. He had once torn the throat out of a man who could put himself in two places at once, although he had never been sure if it was just a trick of lights and sounds, an apparition as opposed to reality. He had never wanted to apparate more than when he got halfway down the winding staircase, only to realize that he had forgotten something at the top.\n\n_They keep Princesses in towers._ He thought, watching as the early morning began to break over the horizon. He watched the moon fade as the sky began to bruise in the purples, oranges and blues of the sunrise. What had once dominated the sky as a great white bulwark had been choked into pitiful, pale blue speck. The day would be upon them, its hands grabbing for his throat. \n\n\"Hm.\" He brought the wineglass to his lips and felt the silver vibrate as he sighed into it, gentle ripples of the deep red liquid moving back against the cup and then to his lips, the waves repeating until he set it down onto the windowsill. He had been in his cups all night, and it had been his anodyne, curing him of both his fatigue and his migraine. _That was another issue with the tower_ Silas thought, pulling the curtains closed so that the room was once again bathed in darkness. He felt too close to the sun. He knew that height actually made things brisker, but if he had ever allowed the light to shine into his quarters, it would be nothing short of asphyxiation.\n\nHe began to pace around the perimeter of his room, which served triply as an office, a bedroom, and a laboratory. He closed each one of the thick, weighted curtains and bound them tightly, then followed the flame of the flickering taper candle he had lit near his work earlier into the night. He removed it from it's candlestick and used the flame to light it's many brothers and sisters around the room. Next to his great canopied bed, atop the towering book cases, next to his alembic and aludal, and in the great glass show globes that hung from his tall, coned ceiling. Writhen silver was wrapped orantely around them and formed the small door that allowed him to reach inside. He lit the thick, red candles and closed the door and soon, the room was bathed in a soft, red light. Bradai had gotten them for him. There were Amorothi, but just the look of them had make him want to take up glass blowing. \n\n\"Hm.\" He sighed again, and continued to read the ponderous but informative works of a Moondancer in Trent, who supposedly had lived for over a hundred years, but had dedicated over eighty of them to the study of leeches. He was almost thankful when a knock on the door interrupted his study. His eyes scanned his desk, searching for his ring, and when he found it he slipped it effortlessly onto his his hand and asked aloud who had come to his chambers at such an ungodly hour."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Tower of Princess Silas\n\nPuck couldn't get the dreaming moments out of his head for the life of him, and it was driving him up the wall. Well, actually up the *Stairs*, but... He wasn't making attention to them. He had vomited again before he made his ascent, leaning against the wall at times to pant and shake, but luckily, the tower was tall enough for Puck to form some composure.\n\nHis Melsi blood was the only thing saving him from looking out of the ordinary, his sickly pallor was a natural occurrence in his race, but nonetheless, he looked tired, if anything. \n\nHe knocked on the door, and if Silas didn't answer. He would simply wait on the stairs, but Luckily, he did. He didn't soud pleased, though.\n\n\"It's... It's the garden snake,\" He tried to tease. But it was weak and shy. \"It's Puck.\" He said after. Clarifying, just in case Silas wasn't in the mood for Puckgordon's venomously daring tongue."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nNot funny, my young Puckgordon.\n\nSilas didn't say anything in response, as he immediately downed the rest of his cup. He savored what remained of his feast and pressed a sleeve to his mouth. It left a thick, red smear. He threw a hand above him in frustration and motioned for the boy to come in, but because he was in the room alone, no one could see him do it. \n\nWhen he eventually did speak, it sounded strange. It was too fast and too loud. \"You are early. Come.\" \n\nHe gave his sleeve one last annoyed glance before reopening his book. From under his desk, Silas kicked the bucket across the room, between he and his apprentice. \"Did you know that they are hermaphrodites?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nI bet you laughed, though, Master Silas\n\nPuck waited for a moment after Silas commanded his entry, psyching himself up. He stepped through the door, slowly closing it behind him.\n\nHe watched the bucket slide across the floor, confused by it, and then confused why Silas just said something about hermaphrodites. He passed, his middle head trying to make heads or tails about what Silas was saying. \n\nHe had this entire plan made up if Silas asked something and yet, he was asked a question he didn't even connect the context of. \n\nWith a blank face. He decided to just... Remain silent. For once. He had plenty of jokes to crack about hermaphrodites, all stuck in his head, but he just leaned down, picking up the bucket. \"Hm.\" He responded. Nothing really exciting."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nTower of the Seneschal, the Maith Mansion\n\n\"Ah!\" He look of good humor crossed his face as his wiry arms lifted the great tome from his desk an inch, and then back down in a small puff of dust. He waved it away with his hand and pointed to the pages with his thumb, \"Leeches. They're neither male nor female. They're both, at the same time. Isn't that interesting to you? They have no sex. I mean, they have _sex_ although I'm not sure that anyone would recognize it if they saw it. I've been thinking about that all night.\" \n\nHe followed the boy's eyeline to see him glance at the bucket, \"The bucket is for the leeches as well. For you to carry them up and down these wonderful stairs. You're going to become very well acquainted with these stairs, my young Puckgordon. Perhaps they'll make you dream of rejoining your fellow Squires, as it made me dream to throw myself from this tower.\" He gave a bark of laughter, \"Although I imagine hearing about me ramble about leeches fucking is probably convincing you to stay.\" \n\nHe narrowed his eyes. \"Why are you up so early? And why do you smell like vomit?\" A hand slammed loudly on the table as the man got to his feet. \"Remove your bandages. Your wound is infected. I did absolutely everything in my power to prevent this and I—\" He began to remove things from his desk. It was not the first time the Seneschal had used it as a makeshift operating table. \"Come. Before your body purges any more of the bad humors. Do you have a fever?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon \nTower of the Seneschal, Maith Mansion\n\nPuckgordon raised an eyebrow as Silas began ranting on about leeches fucking. Puckgordon thought to himself then, about how Silas just told him that he was thinking about leeches fucking the entire night. And then he wondered himself how the leeches fucked. How *Did* They...?\n\nHe looked up as Silas began his questioning, and he shook his head. \"No, it's not my back. It's not.\" He insisted. \"Well... I fell on it. It's what woke me up- Or- I woke up right before I fell... Off my bed. To my back.\" \n\nSo much for his thought out excuse. \"It's not my back.\" He said a little quieter, but he obliged, slowly pulling the shirt over his head. He walked over and laid down on his stomach, his eyes closing. \n\nOnce the bandages were removed, low and behold, no infection. A few cracks in the scabs from where he fell, but nothing more. He took a deep breath. Gripping his hands together above his head to stop them from shaking, he spoke up again. \"I just move a lot in my sleep. Rolled off the bed. Couldn't sleep after that. Didnt want to. Nothing more.\" Was he talking too much? Was it too suspicious? He shut his mouth after that."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov \nTower of the Seneschal, Maith Mansion\n\nSilas did not care to listen to the protests of a boy who was probably just scared to find out he hand an infection. He inspected them by under the soft red light of his show globes and pursed his lips. There was something on the bandages, dust or dirt or debris, but that must have been from the fall, and he had wrapped and fixed the cuts so well that even if it had gotten it, it would not have posed any serious risk. \n\n\"Your hands are shaking.\" He observed. \"Calm down, you're safe.\" His tone was was pleasant, and he gently set his fingers on the back of the boy's right palm. \"You're actually healing very quickly.\" _Perhaps I should cut him on accident and record it_ , he thought, but he did not speak it aloud. \"But you're young and fresh, so I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. The fall doesn't look as if it's damaged you any, but you were due for a rewrap anyways.\" \n\nSilas practically skipped over to his alchemist's station, grabbing a new wrap of fabric and a pot turmeric and honey salve. \"Did you know in Amoroth, a popular way to kill prisoners of war is to tie them down and to feed them nothing but honey? You can well and truly _honey_ someone to death. Isn't that incredible? They _also_ cover them in money and put them outside until they let the flies get at them, and their skin gets pruned the same way it does in water. So perhaps it's not so glamorous. Not the way I would want to go.\" \n\nSilas talked all through the process, about honeying prisoners and dehydrating prisoners and eventually all the forms of mummification known to man. \"Your people, the Melsi, have perfected the art. Not on purpose, though. Your bogs are known to a freeze a man in time. Corpses that died thousands of years ago are dug up and look as good as they day they... Well, drowned in a bog. So they don't look _great_ but they look young, and that's what matters, no?\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper \n\nIt'd been what felt like ages since Valkrin's ship, the *Dream Killer*, had left this harbor. Nevertheless, he still made the walk from the barracks down to see the old girl, which these days had started to show her age just like Valkrin himself. There was a time that the sight of the Branded Man approaching on the deck of the *Dream Killer* Was enough to make even the most hardened sailors pray to the gods for mercy, but now they were both fading into legend. \n\nAfter he'd finished his cigar, Valkrin began the walk back to the barracks, flanked on both sides by guardsmen. Most of his old crew had been conscripted into the guard as informants on the people and goods coming to the city. Those who weren't willing to join the guard had left the Isles with other ships. \n\nOnce back in the barracks he gave the guards their orders for the day and took the important reports, there was a festival to begin soon, and Valkrin wanted to be ahead of schedule. He'd already sent guards to find the best vantage points in the area, and sent a messenger to the Pirate King to find out the King's schedule. Valkrin would be handling the King's security personally."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nTonate Proper\n\nThere was always something to celebrate in Tonate Proper. A birthday, a wedding, various religious holidays and the never ending wakes and funerals - but these were usually confined to the space of a pub or home.\n\nToday, coloured banners and lanterns littered the warm streets of the city and Mouse stood at the window of her tiny, one roomed, apartment, watching the bustling streets of her slum as the sun rose. At her feet, her cat rubbed against her and mewled.\n\n\"Yew've ate-in.\" She scolded him gently and went to the half wall of cages filled with rats. One of the cages on the top row was filled with enough rats to bring to the streets to sell, she decided.\n\nThe rat catcher dressed herself in a simple red kirtle, it's sleeves coming just to her elbow and below the sleeves of her chemise and exposing her freckled forearms, the bottom hem stained a dirt brown. A belt hung at her hips with skirt hikes on either side, which she used to hold hers up for ease of movement. Her red hair had been growing back since she shaved the lot off, now it reached her jaw in a sorry excuse for a bob that only ever got in her face.\n\nMouse rubbed kohl under her eyes and when she was satisfied with her appearance (which wasn't saying much, really) she loaded her small cart with a cage and began wandering the town, dragging it along behind her as she called among the other sellers to announce her wares.\n\n\"Clean rats! Fresh caught from th'finest 'ouses in the Southern Isles!\" She called out at the passing crowds of early risers. She didn't expect a busy morning, but she welcomed the sun happily and was perfectly content to sit and people watch until the evening."
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nRetto nodded to the drow. \"Aye. I know o' a really good place t' ge' a drink. Jus' follow me, and try no' t' lose me.\" As they walked Retto spoke to him once again. \"I'd say this is more than jus' an important stop for th' *Siren*. This-\" He swept his arm around, indicating the busy and lively harbor around them. Men and women exchanging goods, peddling wares, and generally going about their business. The smell of salt in the air mixing with the sugary sweet smell of rum. \"This is 'ome.\" \n\nBMTC or not, Retto made sure to keep an eye on Roach. As great as Tonate was, it still had its very fair share of bad, and he wanted to make sure Roach didn't get the very much so less friendly version of a Tonate welcome. \"So, Roach.\" He started. \"Where ye from? Ye a natural born Islander, or are ye from th' mainland? If ye don' min' me askin'\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon\nThe Tower of the Seneschal, The Maith Mansion\n\nThe young boy couldn't do much, acting much more defeated than last time as he only became conscious of his shaking when Silas patted his hands. He opened his eyes, staring off at a point in the room without wavering his eyes from that spot until his mind could change everything around it. It was a book. He couldn't read what it said. He didn't care to, really. He just needed something to focus on.\n\nSilas began to go on about mummification, honey, and finally he rested his conversation with Melsi Bogs. The rest took a while for Puck to continue, but he finally did whisper.\n\n\"Mmm... It's not always an accident.\" He said simply. \"Water graves... They are not seen as a bad place to be for eternity. Melsi don't look much different alive or dead in the water. I met my great-great uncle because he had insisted they let his weak body drown in the bog.\""
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper \n\nRoach smiled to the fixing of his own language. It was a delight to get to see the admiral look so content, and speak so happily of the place. He trotted along, weaving through the crowds to ensure he kept pace with Retto. \"You're right, my mistake. Home. Important is an understatement. How long has it been since you've been here? You must be glad.\" \n\nSilence befell before the new question rose, and though he tried to not show it, Roach did recoil in the slightest. His face flinched, he tensed up while walking. \"Amoroth, actually. But I'd consider these isles more home to me than any other.\" Roach brought his smile back, forcing the memory flood to be pushed back again and away from his present. He needed to keep focused, he needed to prove he was beyond his roots— so he brushed it off quick and hurried along. \"I worked on ships for a good majority of my time, the sea is still where my heart is, in truth. But I'd say these days, I spend so much time on the isles that they've practically become home for me. I could only wish to call here my homeland, but so far I've been warmly welcomed.\" Satisfied with the response, he ceased. \"These isles truly are gorgeous. A dream.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Tower of the Seneschal, the Maith Mansion\n\nSilas could not conceal the smile that came over him them. He bunched up the old bandages with one hand and tossed it across the room. Whatever pride he felt when he watched the ball of bloodied gauze fall into the bucket faded away when he realized how disgustingly sticky his hand had become. With his unsoiled hand, he tapped the boy on the thigh to wordlessly tell him he was finished.\n\n\"Put these things back onto my desk while I find a rag to wash my hand.\" \n\nThe man took a knee and began to rummage through his desk one handed, eventually finding something decent to clean the flakes of dried blood and honey from his fingers. Had it been earlier into the night he might not have cared as much, but now, in the presence of his apprentice, the man was more concerned with finding some time to rest. \n\n\"Your great great uncle, you say?\" Silas wished that he had known his great great uncle. He had only ever known his great grandfather, but he had lost his magical potency by the time Silas was born. \"Did it look like you?\""
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nRetto nodded as the drow explained himself. They got a mix of looks as they walked, the worst ones were shot down with a dirty look or a shake of his head from Retto. \"Aye, I was 'ere when Tonate Proper didn' exist. Back then, this place was called th' Stilts. Bigges' shithole aroun' before King Bradai really turned this place around. I was one of th' first t' join him. 'e 'ad a look like tha' of a man I woul' follow t' th' ends o' th' earth.\" \n\nHe simply nodded when Roach mentioned he was from Amoroth, and that he believed the islands to be his home and the sea in his heart. \"Amoroth. I see.\" He said before giving a tut \"Well, tha' don' matter t' me. Your hear' is with th' sea. Tha' an' ye are par' of King Bradai's merry band. T' me, ye are an Islander.\" He replied, pointing to Roach as they stopped at the door of a tavern. Sounds of merriment could be heard from within its walls."
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper\n\n\"King Bradai is really something special. I've never heard of a person more tenacious and inspiring, he's certainly the reason I've gotten to where I am today. I'd consider myself fulfilled if I had just the slightest opportunity to let that be known to him, though I'm sure he's much too busy for a ramble as such.\" Roach took a pause at the door of the tavern, internally preparing himself for the rowdy environment. It had been a while since he'd dealt with a proper tavern, having been quite busy on Python, but from the sounds of the joy inside there couldn't have been much of a problem. \n\nThe feeling of acceptance was certainly not common for him, and was certainly cherished within him. Roach gave a short laugh, and a wide grin. \"I appreciate it, sir. You're truly too kind, it means a lot for a man such as yourself to be so welcoming.\" Roach reached for the door, pulling it open and holding it for Retto to enter first. It wasn't only a courtesy, but also would hopefully mitigate his worry of having improper manners in that setting."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nHangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper\n\nThis tavern wasn't exactly a regular spot for Valkrin, partially due to the fact it was always so damn cheery, but it was the first he'd come across after deciding he needed a drink. As he sat alone at a table he heard men pass with a tip of their hats and a \"Captain Farensun, sir.\" Since his appointment to Head of Guard he still hadn't gotten used to everyone calling him sir, and he didn't believe he'd ever get used to it. \n\nPulling one of his trademark Terresolian cigars out of his coat pocket, he struck a match on the table and lit the end, taking a large draw. Through the smoke he saw the door open, and recognized one of the faces as Admiral Retto, but the other bastard was new to him. He finished his drink and loudly ordered another three, knowing the admiral would most likely sit with a fellow city official. He cast a glare at the drow with his amber eye as they came in."
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nRetto let out a sigh of happiness at the sight of the tavern. He had quite a few fond memories there. As he was surveying the scene, he caught Guard Captain Farensun's eye. His presence rather surprised Retto, as he wasn't exactly known to hang around there. He turned to Roach. \"Over 'ere, lad. We'll sit wit' 'im.\" He motioned over to the table where Captain Farensun was sitting. \"Ignore 'is restin' scowl. 'E's allergic t' a good time.\" He laughed and sat down at the table, placing his instrument upon it. He motioned to the waitress \"I'll 'ave m' usual.\" He turned back to the man who sat at the table. \"Farenshun! I'm surprised t' see ye here. 'tis been quite a while since we've talked. 'Ow th' Neither are ye?\""
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper\n\nFollowing Retto's gaze, Roach's eyes landed upon a *Very* Easily recognisable man, one who had fought alongside King Maith himself. That amber eye's glare didn't hinder Roach much, not only as he was accustom to wary scowls but also because the sheer *Glee* Of meeting not one, but *Two* Figures he has looked up to clouded his perception. Retto encouraged them to go sit with him, and Roach took a moment to follow— how on earth could this have been reality? It felt like just yesterday, Roach was sewing sails on an unimportant ship on an unimportant journey, yet he was now following to sit with some of the most important people in the land. He sat, keeping his hands politely at his lap, waiting for a moment to speak. After Retto has greeted him, Roach dared to take a turn. \"Captain Farensun, sir, it's a privilege to be in your presence.\" His eyes were starry, he was holding back a grin. Roach was quite terrible at hiding his excitement."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe tower of the Seneschal, The Maith Mansion\n\nPuck wordlessly got up, not putting his shirt back on since his back was sticky and sore. He looked over at Silas, seeing his smile, and Puck looked back down. He exhaled through his nose, leaning down to put Silas' things carefully back on his desk.\n\n\"Did I look like him? Mmm... Yeah, actually. I don't look like my living family, but the old ones, yes. It's why I'm named Puckgordon. It was his name.\" He said simply, rubbing his hands together. \"I'd sit next to him on the dock, and just...\" He shrugged, trying to explain it without sounding sad. \"I'd talk to him more than any other. Legend has it that the original Puckgordon Snæch was... A monster.\"\n\nGrabbing another item, he set it down. \"I touched him, once. Put my hand in the water and poked him. It... It sunk in like if you poked your finger into a cold bread pudding. That's how I found out he died from arrow wounds, I stuck my finger in one.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun \nTonate Proper\n\n\"Admiral, I've been well, yourself?\" He slipped another cigar out of his pocket and handed it to Retto. \"And I'm not allergic to a good time, we've different opinions of what a good time is.\" The Captain took a pause to finish his drink and called for another, then turned his attention to the drow. \n\n\"And who are you? At first I figured you were one of Retto's men, but the way you're staring like you want to fuck me makes me think he hasn't told you who th'fuck I am.\" He took another long draw from his cigar and blew the smoke away from the table. \"So wipe that fuckin' grin from your face, and quit eyeballing me like a cut of meat.\" Valkrin absolutely hated men who couldn't compose themselves, and the young drow was quickly working his way up a list the boy didn't want to be high up on."
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nRetto set the cigar on the table with a frown. \"Come on, Valkrin, th' boy well an' good knows who ye are. 'E looks up t' ye. Tha' was rather underhanded of ye.\" Retto crossed his arms. \"I'll 'ave ye know 'e's no' one of my men, bu' 'e *Is* A par' o' BMTC. So, if ye 'ave a problem wit' 'im, take i' up wit' King Bradai.\" He took a swig of his rum, and looked at Roach. \"Sorry abou' tha', ye don' 'ave t' pu' up with this if ye don' wan' t'\""
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper \n\nUndeterred, Roach remained within himself. He didn't shrink back or recoil, since in honesty, he would expect nothing less. \"Yes, as Admiral Elbaroda stated, I'm apart of the BMTC. My name is Roach, I manage Python, and oversee trade and accompaniments there.\" His eyes flitted over to Retto, and Roach lifted a hand to his chest as a dismissal. \"I'm alright, please. I've had much worse introductions.\" Much worse with far less *Important* People, at that. Seeing as Valkrin hadn't spat at him or pointed a weapon in his face yet, Roach was more than able to tolerate a bit of threatening language. He returned his gaze to Valkrin, and gave a polite nod of his head. \"Forgive my excitement, sir.\""
}
] | 241.5 | 6,812 |
199.736842 | 2021-01-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper \n\nValkrin shifted in his chair, still not used to the chest plate and other bits of armor he now wore as a uniform. \"I'll look past it this time, seeing as you're not accustomed to who you're dealing with yet. Most men aren't filled with glee to cross paths with Valkrin fucking Farensun.\" He pulled at his chest plate again, taking a draw of his cigar. \n\nA guardsman came by, greeted the Captain and then the Admiral, and gave a passing glance to Roach before leaning in and whispering in Valkrin's ear. \"Right, well tell him if he doesn't like his post, come tell me about it and I'll beat him till he does like it.\" Valkrin turned to the others as the guard left. \"Sorry about that, business. Some of the guards can't accept their roles, old captain must not have had a spine. Whole fuckin island's about to be chock full of people who might take a crack at the King and they're bitching about being posted in the slums.\""
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper**\n\nRetto smiled into his rum. '*Nice t' see tha' 'is ego 'asnt changed a bi'*' he thought to himself as he took another swig. Retto nodded to the guard who addressed him. However, he could agree with Valkrin's next statement. \"I'll tell ye wha', Valkryn. Anyone who takes a crack a' Bradai Maith 'ere in Tonate o' all places woul' 'ave t' be really fuckin' stupid, or 'ave a death-wish, because I can assure ye, they woul' far prefer dyin' where they stood than if we go' a 'old o' em for it. Bu' I agree wit' ye. If all th' guards can make it through these posts for just a couple o' days, tell em tha' I'll buy em all a drink, 'ow about tha'?\" \n\nHe turned to Roach. \"Ye 'ere for th' festival too, Roach, or are ye 'ere on othe' matters?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nTower of the Seneschal, The Maith Mansion\n\n_\"That\"_ Silas sat back down at his desk and thumbed back to the slip of ribbon he was using as a bookmark, \"Is a good story.\" \n\nAs far as he was aware, he was the only Silas Asgarov. \"It is not typical for a family like mine to reuse names. It's considered bad luck for that very same reason. Bad luck to put all of your hopes and dreams into a child. Can you imagine if I was to name a child of mine SIlas, and they were to turn out more powerful than me?\" He did not know what was worse, being dethroned or watching a woman have his child. He shuddered at the thought. \"I'd kill have to strangle him in his cradle. You should be glad that the original Puckgordon did not do the same for you.\" \n\nWhen Puck placed the candle beside his desk, he moved it slightly to the right, so that it was easier to read by it's light. \"I would ask you how your great great grandfather was a monster, but you, my young Puckgordon, have leeches to get. You will go to the Stilts and every leecherman you see for the biggest catches of the day. We have the privilege of having leeches as long as a forearm, and by the Gods we will abuse that advantage.\" \n\nHe looked up from his book at the boy through dark, half lidded eyes. \"You _do_ know how to get to the Stilts, correct? Today is a festival.\""
},
{
"author": "grimyard",
"message": "Roach\nHangman's Harbour, Tonate Proper\n\n*Most, but not all.* Roach nodded his head, deciding that silence would be better than running his mouth further. So he listened quietly along to their conversation, questions darting rapidly through his head but not daring to leave his mouth. Retto had it under wraps, anyway. He was watching, nonetheless, enthused by getting to see the two acting so *Natural*. It was certainly odd to not be seeing them all proper and done up, like they had been in the paintings and tales, but so very human that it made things feel so much more real for Roach—\n\nHe snapped out of his thoughts as his name is said. \"For the festival, yes. Hopefully, for a chat with the King over matters regarding Python, though I'm sure that can wait for another time. He'll likely be too busy to want to discuss it.\" Roach gave a curt laugh. \"This is my first go about with an event this large, though. So many people here, the excitement is contagious.\" He looked to Valkrin again, now containing his giddiness much better. \"I'd almost argue a guard that complains about their job isn't trustworthy enough to keep our good King safe. I'm glad to see someone as competent as yourself handling that behaviour appropriately.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe tower of the Seneschal\n\nPuckgordon stood in front of Silas with a sort of look in his eyes, like some sort of realization that hit him within the words Silas spoke. \"Well.\" He said abruptly. \"Well, I don't think it was in honor. I'm the youngest. I'm sure my family just ran out of things to call their spawn.\" He said with a snarky undertone. Not too happy of a family, it seemed. He crossed his arms.\n\nPuck listened to Silas talk about proper leech size, Puck became sullen again, nodding once. \"I didn't leave the Mansion much, but I know where the Stilts are, at least.\" He said quietly. Of course, he'd go to the place with some form of marshy water, even if it was really not that similar. He picked up the bucket. \"Do you...\" He paused at the door, turning back. \"Well, could a leech fuck itself? Since it's a boy and a girl?\" He turned back toward the door. \"Do they just choose who gets to fuck who? Can they fuck each other and both have babies?\" He shook his head. \"Sorry.\" He said simply, opening the door. \"I'll fill the bucket up.\" He said."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov \nThe Tower of the Seneschal\n\nSilas did not look up from his work while the boy rattled off his series of leech related questions, but he did give a small smile.\n\n\"There is no gate to the Stilts. You must go through the Mizzen District and out the Stony Gate into Dusttown. Circle down and around the castle wall and cross Tenley's Bridge, and you'll be in the Stilts.\" \n\n\"And Puck?\" The man looked up at his apprentice, and held up a hand, numbering off the answers in the same order they were posed, \"No. They're not, they're neither. They do. Yes.\" \n\nWhen Silas closed his splayed hand, the sapphire in his ring seemed to catch ablaze with power. When the door swung open by itself, the show globes above them swayed noisily as if pushed by a nonexistent wind, but eventually settled and stopped their creaking. \"Come back before midday. We will be accompanying the King to the Mizzen. He has asked to see your progress, but you will not speak unless spoken to. He asked for you personally to Squire for the unprepared men at the tourney. Is that something you think you'll be capable of, or should I find another boy instead?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck \nThe tower of the Seneschal\n\nPuckgordon stiffened at the thought of the King having anything to do with him. He respected him loosely, probably right beneath Silas on the list of respect, but he didn't like getting judged.\n\nHe turned his head away to yawn, shaking his head a little before turning back to Silas. \"I can. Suppose.\" He glanced off. \"I'm not...\" He sighed. \"As long as I can just... Work alone with 'em. No other squire around.\" He raised his eyebrows. \"I don't think I'd be able to help myself if...\" He closed his eyes. What was he saying? Was he *Trying* To get in trouble? \"I'd... I'd just prefer to work alone. I can get it done faster.\" He said, bowing shallowly. \"Anything else, uh, Sire?\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper \n\nValkrin finished his cigar and tossed the butt into a nearby ashtray, taking a look out the window to judge the time. He wanted to stop at his estate and check on Catarina, who'd been staying there since their encounter at the brothel. \n\n\"Good thing I don't let run of the mill guardsmen handle King Maíth's security.\" He said to the young drow while getting up and straightening his uniform out. \"Well gentlemen, this is where we part ways. Always a pleasure to see you Admiral, and I suppose it was good enough to meet you, Roach.\" \n\nHe drew a rather large knife from a scabbard at his thigh, the handle made from an amber material that matched his eye, and set it on the table in front of the boy. \"Bring that to the area where the King will be seated at the tournament, the guards know it as mine and will let you through. If he has time to talk about whatever the hell Python is, you can do it there.\" Valkrin went to the barkeep and told him to put any other drinks his companions ordered on his tab, which he never paid. Then bid the both of them goodbye as he walked out of the tavern, men tipping their hats as he left."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Tower of the Seneschal\n\nSilas regarded the boy with a brief glance from his work.\n\n\"No.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe tower of the Seneschal.\n\n\"Kay.\"\n\nHe left, descending the stairs with bucket in hand."
},
{
"author": "zephyra318",
"message": "**Admiral Retto Elbaroda**\n**Hangman's Harbor, Tonate Proper** \n\n\"Aye, as always, Valkryn.\" Retto nodded back to the guard captain. He pointed to the knife on the table. \"Well, I'd say there's ye ticket t' see King Bradai. 'E's usually quite busy, bu' 'e likes t' talk business wit' those in 'is company. I'm sure 'e'll make time for ye.\" Roach was certainly one of the more interesting characters he had met. Retto began to wonder if all that speculation about the degeneracy of nonhumans was true. Roach didn't seem to fit the stereotype at all. \n\n\"Anyways, Velkryn Farensun is qui' a characte'. Tha' knife there migh' be th' nicest thin' e's done for a strange'. I 'ope ye achieve wha' it is yer 'ere t' do, Roach. Barer forbid I' doesn' work out, there is always room fer ye on th' *Siren*. I can always use good men wit' your enthusiasm. He rolled the unit cigar in his fingers. Retto never cared much to smoke, a bard wasn't much good with blacklung and smoker's throat."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov \nThe Tower of the Seneschal\n\nAbout ten minutes later, Silas realized that he had sent his apprentice into the city with vomit stained pants and no shirt. Not wanting to go down the stairs, he hoped his apprentice would have the sense to clothe himself before heading out into the city. If he had heard any tales of a shirtless castle boy he'd wring his neck in front of the King."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nSomewhere\n\nHe grabbed his shirt on the way out AND HE DIDNT PUKE ON HIS PANTS. He had thrown up often enough to know how to dodge it well. He'll be fine."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nShe stood in front of the mirror, gazing blankly at her reflection. Overall, she seemed to have adjusted well to this new life, but in all actuality, she was just going through the motions. She lived comfortably, physically, tended to by various servants in this much, much too large house. She couldn't call it a home. It was just an estate, filled with bits and baubles from Valkrin's travels. \n\nYet she found herself largely out of place here, like one of Valkrin's treasures from a far away land, sitting on a shelf here in the middle of Tonate. Thankfully, most of the time she was kept busy working for Valkrin: running errands, collecting dues brought to her by Valkrin's men, and whatever else he bid her do. She wanted to hate him, just as Alofen had, but she couldn't. She couldn't deny that she owed him. Because of him, she had a comfortable place to live, her debts were gone, and she was kept busy with work that, usually, left her with little time to dwell on her troubles.\n\nShe sighed softly, reaching up to carefully pin her hair into place. *Perhaps I should go to the festival...* She mused. It had been a long, long time since she had really done anything fun, and perhaps this would be a nice change of pace. \n\n*But why?* She thought with a shake of her head. *What's the use?*"
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\nValkrin barged through the front door to his estate house, quickly waving off the servants that rushed to the entrance. \"Don't need your fucking help.\" He snarled in Soltongue, the servants having no idea what he said other than he was angry. \n\nHe took off all the steel plates that covered his torso, dropping each one onto the floor with a loud bang. Continuing in his native tongue, he called out for Catarina. \"Ms. Tanner, are you here? More importantly are you decent?\" Not that he'd ever cared that a woman was decent, just she deserved better than most women. Valkrin had a short while before he had to leave to walk about the city and make sure his men were at their posts, and always enjoyed a conversation with his countryman."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\n*Nothing like having a bull come barging into the damn china shop,* Catarina thought snidely. He made enough noise to wake the dead, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at Val's bellowing. She hadn't been expecting him, no, but she had since learned that no one could ever really predict when he'd be somewhere and what his plans were. He was a man that lived by his own rules.\n\nShe huffed and grumbled to herself, quickly finishing up with her hair and straightening her dress. Thankfully she was already mostly decent when Val came barging in to the house,though she wasn't about to dignify his bellering with an immediate response. Her pride, and her disdain for him, simply wouldn't let her. \n\nNow ready, she came out of her room and stood at the top of the steps, which looked down on the foyer that Val stood in. \n\n\"What'y'ya want?\" She replied rather bruskly, placing her hands on her hips."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nFarensun Estate, Tonate Proper \n\nAs she stood there at the top of the stairs, Valkrin just looked at her for a brief moment, a slight smirk on his face. \"Well don't you just look a damn sight for sore eye? Planning on heading out for the festival?\" Valkrin removed his undershirt and took a looser one from one of his servants, throwing it on and buttoning it. \n\n\"Merely wanted to check on you, make sure you hadn't run off to some rat hole in the slums. Do you have to look that pissed at me all the time? It's getting a bit old.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nOn the way to the Stilts\n\nUnder the sun, it was even harder to stay awake. It was that kind of warmth that just wrapped you up in it, and even with his marred and raw back, it was a satisfying feeling, where you could just... Fall...\n\nPuck stumbled a little, leaning on a nearby tree as he shook his head, opening his eyes wide to blink a few times and take a few long and deep breaths.\n\nPushing himself off the tree, he launched himself back into the path, shuffling along and skirting past groups of people that seemed to just be joyfully skipping along like some sort of *Happy* Group. It made Snæch's skin *Crawl*.\n\nSwinging the bucket a little, the pretty boy rounded a corner, walking past a few houses. Time to get into some shade, hopefully, it would knock him out of his tiredness a little."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nFarensun Estate, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Run off? And miss out on the opportunity to annoy you? Never,\" She shot back. \n\nShe flounced down the stairs, then leaned against the banister at the bottom. Truth be told, she always played a delicate balance with Val. She wanted to hate him, but she owed him and couldn't make it without him for now... He seemed to tolerate her snide remarks—even seemed amused by them, at times— but she couldn't be sure that he would forever. She was sure that some would not be forgiven, if she ever went too far.\n\n\"I thought about goin',\" She replied, Soltongue sliding easily off her lips. She'd never admit it, but speaking in Soltongue was one of the few times she ever felt at home."
}
] | 219 | 3,795 |
637.545455 | 2021-01-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nIn some shade.\n\nCrouching down at the base of a tall tree, Snæch sighed with distaste. Cheery days never much fit his aesthetic. Cheery days were full of... Nothing for him. He supposed there was nothing to celebrate this time around, either. He would be acting like a good boy for a king who couldn't talk right, and helping sweaty men with heavy armor all day. At least there were leeches. He wondered how it even worked, still, even after the questions were answered by Silas about leeches fucking. He scratched his chin. Pausing, he scratched his chin some more. \n\n*Stubble?* He thought to himself, a tinge of excitement. He felt his face a little more, really rubbed it down. Sure enough, there was some little fuzz barely peeking in. Perhaps he'd look more a man than a boy soon enough. Sadly, he never knew how to shave, no one had ever taught him. He was a late bloomer, surely, but this? This was at least progress. Was it because he got whipped fifty times? Or was it just a final leap toward manhood happening in the time he finally slept?\n\nAs he thought about when the hell puberty hit him, he felt a smoothness over his sandaled foot, sliding over his toes like a cold, wet...\n\n*Leech?* \n\nHe looked down, his heartbeat thumping suddenly as he was faced with not a leech, but a snake, slithering over his foot and around his ankle. He didn't move, looking at it with a statuesque reaction, frozen in place as he rifled through his mind about the various poisonous snakes that made The Southern Isles their home. Was this one of them?"
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nFarensun Estate, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Aye, well if you're lookin for a bit of extra decoration, there's more than likely a few trinkets in that pile over there.\" He said as he gestured toward a small tower of chests, containing all manner of earrings and necklaces. \"If you look around enough might even be a few dresses around here somewhere, for some reason the boys think I can offload that kind of shit.\" He paused and tried to think of where he would've put any dresses his men brought in. \n\n\"I'm heading out soon to take a look throughout the city, be nice to have you along if you're interested. Gotta come back here and change into my dress uniform before the tournament though, can come to that too if you like. We'll be meeting the King there, so you'll have to look elegant.\" *Elegant*? That wasn't a word the man used often, and it tasted foul coming out of his mouth."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nFarensun Estate, Tonate Proper\n\nShe raised a brow at him, somewhat perplexed by his offer. It wasn't an unattractive one though. The streets of Tonate could be a bit rowdy at times, particularly during a festival, not to mention the risk of running into any former... Clients; Val would likely offer the perfect protection. It wasn't like she really knew much about defending herself, at this point. \n\n\"Alright...\" She replied, slowly. Hesitantly. \"I'll join you. Just give me a few minutes.\" \n\nWith that, she retrieved some jewelry from the chests that were offered her and then scurried back upstairs. While she was usually kept busy with work for Val, she still had time alone in this big empty house. She had done more than her fair share of snooping, so she knew right where to go for the dresses he spoke of.\n\nA few minutes later, she returned. Her lips were stained a crimson red, while her eyes were darkened with a bit of kohl. The dress she had chosen was beautiful— a brilliant blue— but not overly flashy or heavy. Perhaps she would change into something better for the ball, if she chose to go, but this was meant for being out in the streets, dancing and enjoying the festival. In her ears she wore large hoop earrings, along with bangles on her wrists and a necklace, all of which she had borrowed from what Valkrin offered. Her jewelry had been sold long ago.\n\nBut what she had chosen was largely representative of her people and her upbringing, and so when she returned to Valkrin, she looked like an amalgamation of Terresolian and vagabond."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nFarensun Estate, Tonate Proper \n\nHe'd put his uniform and plates back on while waiting for Catarina to come back down, but he wasn't prepared for exactly how stunning she looked. \"Like the gleaming streets of Sol herself,\" Were the only words he could manage to get out. \n\nHe cleared his throat and strapped his sword to his back, tugging at his chest plate afterwards to move it off his neck. Valkrin walked over to the door and opened it for her, then called for his servants to lock the door behind him. As they stood in front of the house, he extended his arm to her. \"Are you ready? Be a while 'fore we come back to change.\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "A completely coincidental meeting of people.\n\nThe Port of Drase, Tonate Proper\n\n\n*The Sparrow's Wing*'s deck was bustling with life. Men and women dressed in earthly tones over pale shirts ran across the wet boarding with a certain practiced skill that you could almost call magic. A call rang from the top of the main sail, a spot the crew lovingly deemed the \"Sparrow's Nest,\" To prepare to hoist the sails as they closed in to the harbor. The harbor itself seemed to be packed to an untrained eye, merchant ships and barges gliding around in a sort of ramshackle dance.\n\n\n\"Half Sail, lads! Way Hey!\" Out rang the tenor voice of the young captain, the last words clearly carrying a tune that was soon picked up by the crew manning the rigging. They cried out in unified lyrics with each pull, the coarse leathery hands finding easy purchase along the grain. As the song finished, so did their task, and the crew then prematurely rushed to their positions for the next stage of docking.\n\n\n\"Rea'y oars!\" Cried out the first mate, a tall Islander with dark skin and arms the size of Birch Trees, the brand of a fishing boat slave on his face. The oars slid out of the side of the ship, hovering above the water. A Taemarian galleon approached them, almost on an intersect path until they began to drift to *The Sparrow's* Starboard side.\n\n\n\"Bra'e! Slow drif' teh por'!\" The oars dipped into the water upon the command. The oars on port staying beneath the water constantly while the oars on starboard bobbed to a beat.\n\n\n\"Yet another pirate trying to mooch off the festival?\" Shouted a sailor on the galleon.\n\n\n\"Aye, a full hold of Taemarian Pig's feet! Care for a bite?\" Returned a young woman on the red-sailed Junk ship.\n\n\n\"Careful you don't choke on the hooves! Doubt some Witherland whore even knows what that is!\" It was impressive he picked up on her accent, however the woman had backup.\n\n\"Don't fret, Hilda, they're just upset we didn't save them the hog cunts!\" A roar of laughter came from the crew. No doubt the Taemarian wanted to reply, however at this point the ships had passed almost fully, and the respective captains simply nodded at each other and chuckled.\n\n\n\"Steady as she goes! Bring her in on the starboard side!\" They were well in the harbor now, a clear highway to the docks becoming obvious to the coordinated navigation between the Captain and the Sparrow's Nest.\n\n\n\"Retract oars! Full Stop!\" The wooden oars lifted into the stowage beneath the deck as the crew topside returned to their positions at the mast. The lumbering shoulders hoisted until the ruby sails retracted to the mast fully. The ship was now drifting.\n\n\n\"Anchor ready!\" Shouted the Captain, the first mate retreating belowdecks to assist with the preparation to disembark.\n\n\n\"Release!\" The stoppage below decks was pulled free, the massive wheel that sat at the center of the coiled chain spinning rapidly as the heavy weight plummeted to the bottom of the harbor.\n\n\n\"Cleat Hitch, go!\" Came the call. And as the Junk ship drifted into a spot along the docks, 4 or 5 sailors leaped over the ramparts, rope in hand, to secure the ship to the boardwalk.\n\n\n\"Brace!\" Shouted the Captain, however there was hardly a need as the ship gave a minor tug against the ropes before coming to a full stop, slowly drifting back against the tension.\n\n\n\"Gangway down!\" Shouted a crewmate, the long ridged plank slamming down against the docks.\n\n—\n\n\nThe entire ship seemed to breathe a sigh of relief once it was fully docked. A unified groan resonating through each plank as the behemoth settled to a resting position.\n\n\nSir Jax Brightwater looked up from his book. Closing the front cover over his thumb as he glanced out of the porthole in the cabin. The book in his hands was a brief history of the Southern Isles over the first ten years of the Maith takeover, written by a prominent author Jax recognized from Feyshore, however rumor had it he was living in Araedia now. He grabbed a piece of fabric on his small desk and slipped it between the pages. On the other bunk in the room, Aleksandr stirred to a sitting position, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a pale finger.\n\n\n\"Have we arrived?\" Came the meek voice as he awoke.\n\n\n\"It seems so, can't you smell it?\" Jax inquired.\n\n\nAleks wrinkled his nose after a quick sniff.\n\n\n\"It stinks, what is that smell?\"\n\n\n\"Dinner, Cadet.\" Jax chuckled. Aleks may have been mistreated by most of the people he served, yet he still had a small underlying criticism of strange things he viewed as alien and, well, not of nobility. In truth despite the terrible conditions Jax rescued him from, Aleks still hesitated during his survival excercises, being somewhat used to living like a pet.\n\n\n*\"Snap it's neck, Brightwater!\"\n\n\nJax's hands hesitated around the chicken's neck, grasping lightly at the brown and sienna feathers.\n\n\n\"Kill it!\"\n\n\nHe didn't.\n\n\n\"Fucking kill it, Brightwater!\"\n\n\n\"I can't.\"\n\n\n\"**Do it!**\"\n\n\nJax screamed, a primal scream of desperation and fear rang out across the training grounds, cut short by a loud crack.\n\n\nThe drill officer's hands were wrapped over the chicken's neck.\n\n\n\"The next time you hesitate like that, I'll fucking kill you myself.\"*\n\n\n\"Sir?\" Aleks' voice brought him back to reality.\n\n\n\"Sorry, what was that, Aleks?\"\n\n\n\"Should I see if it's okay to disembark?\"\n\n\nAlmost as if his words summoned it, the door rang with a knock, and the Islander entered.\n\n\"We' dawked. Yew can disembar' whenevah yer rea'y.\" Then he closed the door.\n\n\n\"Guess that answers that.\" Jax snarked at his squire.\n\n—\n\n\n\"Watch how you attach the ropes! That wagon is worth more than your entire salary!\" Noma shouted at the crew surrounding his wagon, nervous as ever at the prospect of these strangers handling his entire livelihood. The sailor gave a grunt in response, and Noma spied the rolling of eyes beneath his leathery fold. \"I saw that!\"\n\n\n\"Cheery as ever I see.\" Noma turned towards the voice of the Eclipse Captain.\n\n\n\"Ah, Captain Jax, finally someone who can sympathize. I don't suppose there's any chance you can whip this lot into shape before they break everything?\"\n\n\n\"I'm not that sort of Captain, I'm afraid.\" The knight chuckled.\n\n\nNoma was glad when the two Eclipse knights joined their little pleasure cruise in Taemar. He respected Captain Farensun, and they were known to spend hours discussing philosophy and politics over a bottle or two of wine, but the crew of *The Sparrow* Had only a small amount of Noma's patience. He had received too much disrespect to his career from them, and given his own fair share in return. The irony of the situation was that without the added flair of each title, both parties traveled the world in a sentimental vessel trading and bartering to various organizations, they really weren't all that different. However the two seemed to latch onto their differences like flies in tar, getting in multiple arguments throughout the trip, so Noma was elated when the Eclipse boarded and diversified the conversations.\n\n\n\"What about the squire? Care to jump in and show these lads how to properly hoist a wagon?\" The pale cadet simply squeaked in reply, shuffling further behind his mentor.\n\n\n\"Have you decided where you're staying, yet?\" Jax continued the conversation, \"We thought to check the inns closer to the festival before settling on something out here.\"\n\n\"I have! Traveling merchants can find a bunk at the Mizzen. If I would suggest a spot I would search near the other entrance, the Hangman's Harbor, no doubt some sea shack has a spare room for sale, and it's right near the tournament compared to other places.\"\n\n\nJax bowed politely.\n\n\n\"Thank you my friend, I'll look for your wagon at the tournament.\"\n\n\nNoma laughed a boisterous and gaudy laugh as he waved them goodbye. As soon as they ascended topside however he resumed his chastisement of the sailors.\n\n\n\"Who taught you how to tie a knot? A blind monkey!?\"\n\n—\n\n\n\"Captain!\"\n\n\nDirk turned from the bow of the ship.\n\n\n\"Ah, Captain!\" Dirk chuckled at his joke. He was the only one.\n\n\n\"I wanted to personally thank you for letting us travel with your crew.\" The knight continued.\n\n\n\"Aye, it was no problem, you didn't take up half my hold with piles of ice and snow.\" He rolled his eyes. \"Is 'butter' even worth it?\"\n\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" Jax chuckled, \"In that madman's hands I'm sure he'll fill that wagon full of gold with just that one barrel.\"\n\n\n\"Somehow I don't doubt that.\" Dirk's stomach grumbled, recalling the memory just a week prior. Noma, frustrated, stood up from his table and declared he couldn't stand the swill they ate. He marched into the kitchen, threw the crew chef out, and after a few minutes, emerged with a fresh pot of stew. It was magnificent, one of the best things Dirk had on a ship. When the crew chef asked him what he did Noma simply chuckled.\n\n\n*\"Salt, and a few carrots.\"*\n\n\nDirk grasped the Eclipse knight by the forearm.\n\n\n\"Look for our red sail if you need passage again.\"\n\n\n\"I will, maybe sooner than you think.\"\n\n\nDirk watched him leave before turning back to the front of his ship.\n\n\n\"Silas!\"\n\n\n\"Ay' Cap'n?\" The Islander appeared as Dirk produced a spyglass.\n\n\n\"Does that look like my Father's ship to you?\"\n\n—\n\n\nErik reached forward and grabbed the merchant by the collar, pulling him over the counter.\n\n\n\"I'm fairly sure I gave you 2 silvers, not a a silver and a copper.\" His deep booming voice came out as slowly as he thought of the words, but he face was stern. The merchant was desperate to hang onto his coin, but not stupid.\n\n\n\"Tha' yew di',\" He stammered out before producing a handful of coppers, \"Kee' th' change!\"\n\n\nErik let go and grabbed his kebabs with his newly freed hands, taking a large bite. His eyes lit up and he turned back to the merchant, who shrieked.\n\n\n\"You have a gift!\" He shouted, spitting chunks of meat on the poor man's face.\n\n\n\"Than' yew...\" But Erik was already gone.\n\n\nSophia had sent him out for groceries, a small price to pay since she was letting him fight in the melee, but that was a few hours ago. He had a list and checked everything off, now he was just meandering about because all she said was: \"Get everything on the list, don't come back until you do.\" If she was in a hurry she'd say: \"Get everything on the list, then come back right after.\" So he wasn't worried, his sister knew how to talk to him.\n\n\nAnd Erik was glad that he stayed.\n\n\nSoon after he finished his sixth kebab, he caught a familiar scent. It was strange in the market of the Southern Isles, with so many strange smells intoxicating the air, but Erik was a hunter, and this smell was familiar. A quick glance around and he saw him, his quarry.\n\n\n\"*Tin Man!*\"\n\n\nJax looked up, only realizing it was him until it was too late.\n\n\nA mighty roar pierced the market, a bundle of packages fell to the ground, and Erik smashed his fist into Jax's face. Aleksandr, the poor lad, grasped at his dagger briefly, fumbling around the hilt.\n\n\"You lumbering oaf!\" Jax was back, leaping up with both legs, driving the crown of his head into Erik's nose. There was a pause as Aleksandr didn't know what to do. But as soon as the roar came out, so did the laughter. The two men grasped each other with familiarity, and recognition dawned on Aleks.\n\n\n\"You're the mercenary... The one who ripped the gate from it's hinges!\" He bowed quickly, thanking the man who helped save him profusely.\n\n\n\"You've gotten bigger, Little Rabbit! Wanna arm wrestle?\" Erik squatted down, giggling at the terrified look in the boy's eyes.\n\n\n\"Keeping out of trouble?\" Jax laughed out.\n\n\n\"Never! That's why I'm here!\"\n\n\n\"Don't tell me...\"\n\n\n\"No! Just the melee is all, at least that's all I know.\"\n\n\n\"You're getting smarter, big man.\"\n\n\nErik beamed at the compliment, and like a key finally clicking, he remembered the packages he dropped. Aleks almost giggled at the sight of the big man picking up every bag so gingerly.\n\n\n\"What are you two doing here? Hunting someone?\" Erik returned to the conversation.\n\n\n\"Nothing that exciting, we're heading back to Astoria and stopped here for the tourney.\"\n\n\n\"I'll get to fight you then!\" Erik said before noticing the armor his rival wore, \"Astoria has butterflies?\"\n\n\n\"They're moths...\" Aleks perked up defensively.\n\n\n\"It's special to the royal family, just wait until you see the armor I'm wearing for the tourney!\" Jax could barely contain his laughter.\n\n\n\"You'll fight in the melee, yes!?\" Erik pursued.\n\n\n\"I'm in the joust for sure, but just for you my friend I shall see if they'll take me last minute.\" Jax clapped the massive shoulder, as Erik jumped with glee.\n\n\n\"I shall come to see you in the Joust just in case they do not! I must see your ridiculous tin armor now!\" And all three of the men laughed together, loudly.\n\n—\n\n\nAs the ship finally came to a rest, the chef found a place for his stall, and the fighter's retired to an available room, each one took a breath. For the first time in history, these four individuals were within the same borders, attending the same festival. While they didn't have the omnipotence handy to fully grasp it, each one could feel it in their bones, this festival would change things.\n\n\nThe oaf, who was here for glory and fame, fell asleep dreaming of the crowd saying his name. The pirate, with a crew he called family, awoke to a nightmare about his daddy. The chef, who travels the world for a cause, marveled at the beauty of the city on pause. And finally, the knight who sought only fun, couldn't marvel the weight his shoulders did run.\n\n\nAnd in all the chaos, the noise, and the thick\n\nWho knows if we'll see signs, of good old Tiny Vik."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nFarensun Estate, Tonate Proper\n\nShe was tempted to tell him to stop gaping like a fish out of water, but instead she chose to ignore his compliment. The jab just didn't feel worth it, and admittedly, it had been quite some time since she felt and looked this good. \n\nOutside, she hesitated before taking his arm with a nod and replying, \"I believe I have everything.\" \n\nWith that, the two of them were off to the festival, making their way through the streets. The two must have looked like quite the pair, as she noticed several people staring at them as they passed. Or perhaps it was just Valkrin, though usually people tended to avoid staring at him. If they didn't, well, it seemed like Valkrin always made sure they didn't do that again. A little piece of her felt guilty for even going to the festival with him, knowing all she did about his dealings and the horrible things he had done. And yet here she was, draped on the arm of a monster... Mostly, she told herself, she did this so that she wasn't bothered by anyone else, especially with the money she had on her to enjoy some treats at the festival. And, as they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**The Adamant Raptor**\n\nThe cerulean waves of the Bay of Pearls shattered against the keel of the _Adamant Raptor_, the ship Cyprien de Lysse had chosen to lead the flotilla that would visit the Isles. Although far from the pride of his navy, the _Adamant Raptor_ was Cyprien's favourite nevertheless: it was the fastest, and most complex ship among House de Lysse's naval assets. It's was also the most maneuvrable, thanks to it's lavender triangular sails, and Cyprien had ordered his captain to drift across the flotilla in order to give Fleur a constantly shifting view, who due to her strange condition was painfully affected by the monotony of the travel.\n\n\"Land in sight!\" Shouted the man perched atop the foremast, pointing the rising shapes in the horizon with one hand and holding a spyglass in the other.\n\n\"All ships in formation! Shield the _Adamant Raptor_ until we make it to port!\" Ordered Cyprien.\n\nAs guests of the festival, they were allegedly under Bradai Maith's protection, but the ruler of the Isles didn't style himself as a \"Pirate King\" For nothing. One could never be too cautious.\n\nAs the _Adamant Raptor_ dropped anchor in the port of Tonate Proper, Cyprien began having second thoughts about his ship. He had been delighted to show it his daughter during the travel, but seeing it lay idle at harbour made him worry about it. The ship was too ostentatious for the port of Tonate. Too sonspicuous, even with the other ships of House de Lysse surrounding it. Not the best thing in a land renowed for it's thievery.\n\n\"Change of plans. I want a platoon to stay with the ship. Make sure to guard her well.\"\n\n_Shoul've brought more guards_, he tought. Well, nothing he could do about it now. He turned around and adressed his son, who was now descending the ramp with the woman he'd hired. Fleur followed them not far behind.\n\n\"I want you to take a squad with you and go figure out the details for the tournament, the rest will come with Fleur and me.\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Bastien De Lysse\nThe Adamant Raptor\n\nTaking a deep breath of the fresh sea air, Bastien descended to greet his father. He was dressed in nice, albeit not extremely formal, clothes: a rich, wine-red tunic and black pants with his custom black riding boots. A casual display of his wealth and status. His white hair was ruffled by the sea breeze.\n\n\"Very well,\" Bastien said as he raised a hand lazily in the air. The squad of men he had previously assembled nodded in understanding as they began to make ready to leave the ship. \"It will be an interesting tournament to watch, though I don't know how much of it I will get to see.\"\n\nHis dark indigo eyes flicked from the sparkling ocean waves to his little sister. He gave her a stiff, singular pat on the head. It was the most amount of affection he could show in front of so many people. \"I hope you will watch it,\" He told her with a small smile. \"Despite my name not being on the registration, it will be very similar to those daring adventure books you love to read so much. I might see you there, if I can make it.\" \n\nHe looked over at Lady Calypso. It seemed as though she and Fleur were getting along somewhat nicely, which made him pleased. Still, he was glad that Fleur would be sticking besides Cyprien nonetheless. He wanted Fleur to be comfortable, and he did not trust Lady Calypso fully yet. \"I trust you will watch over her,\" He told the young woman. His voice was serious, but he added in an equally serious tone, \"And make sure she does not buy too many candies or sweets without saving some for me.\"\n\nHis eyes locked with Calypso, and he held her gaze for a few moments as they shared a silent understanding.\n\nThen he turned back to Fleur and raised an eyebrow slightly, a ghost of a smile on his face. \"Such a pretty dress you are wearing,\" He said as he gave her a look up and down. \"Be warned: if I see any young men try to talk to you, he best say his prayers lest I get my hands on him.\""
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nThe Adamant Raptor\n\nCalypso had never been on a ship before, her and Fleur sharing that first experience together, helped make the first steps to better get to know each other. \n\nShe was wearing a white chemise under a kirtle dress with the boned corset, in a vibrant red, with a thin golden chain cinching at her waist, the structure of the dress making it harder for the wind to raise the skirt, permitting her to walk around the deck freely while waiting on Fleur to get off the ship. Her dark eyes studying the scenery, holding herself with her usual poised demeanor. The wind making her French braid slice the air like the tail of an angry cat.\n\nWhen Lady Fleur was ready, the two walked together towards Lord Bastian who was waiting for them on the dock, a group of man surrounding him, making him stand out even more with his rich clothes and high stature, like if the white hair weren't enough to pull him apart from the others. Calypso gave a small polite smile to the men around them before turning her attention to the nobleman who was currently talking to his sister.\n\nOf course, it didn't take him long to redirect his attention from Fleur, the warmth in his eyes disappearing once he lends his eyes on her. Calypso held his stare letting a small smile slip on her lips. \"I'm here for this very reason my Lord. \" Answered her with a small nod before letting a chuckle escape her lips at his joke \" Oh I don't know, what do you say my Lady? Should we leave some sweets for your brother?\" Asked her playfully but keeping her composure.\n\nWhen their eyes meet, Calypso immediately received his message."
},
{
"author": "babyratprincess",
"message": "Prince Nickles\nThe Southern Isles\nBradai's Ship\n\nThe cornhusk doll that Nickles had mischievously placed aboard Persephoen's dingy, the *Jam Jar*, must have made it to the Isle of Rikkon by now. It was a magnificent doll that he created using the discarded remains of *The Corn Husk Hog Festival's Annual Corn Husk Husk Hog*. As he crafted his beautiful doll, eyes tearbright in admiration, he realized that he was birthing a legacy. Indeed, he had become quite fond of the corn doll that bore a striking resemblance to himself and he had grown miserable to the thought of it being in the smelly Northern rat's possession. In a stroke of genius and foresight, he pinned a neat letter to the chest of his beloved corn doll. *Please return to the Maith Mansion, which is where I will reside from here on out. If you return my doll damaged in any way, I will tear your ugly bitch hair off,* He wrote to his ex-girlfriend. He swiped his thumb along his gums until one of the rusted razor blades that had earned him the nickname *Stitch Mouth* So many years prior cut into his skin. The pad of his finger bloomed with blood and he pressed it to the note to seal his oath. \n\nDays later, he was tucked safely away in a crate of black mulberries, en route to the Southern Isles. Bradai Maith, the most prolific art thief of their generation, had something of Nickles. Had it for too damn long. Nickles shrieked softly into his cupped hands, too excited at the prospect of being reunited with his long lost portrait to contain himself. The mulberries had dyed his pink dress purple and wrinkled his skin with their juices. He would come out of the crate a new woman. A woman who would show no mercy to those who wronged her. Again, he squealed with delight at the thoughts that swam in his head. Dirty, murderous thoughts.\n\nThree episodes of sea-sickness later, Nickels' vomitus mingled with the crushed mulberries and blacked his hairs. He slicked them back and sucked in a deep breath, preparing for what was sure to come. He could smell the stench of the Islanders hours before they reached the wretched kingdom. Bathing, he thought in absolute disgust, was not a pillar of their society. He felt the ship dock and the Islander crewmates began to prepare to dock.\n\n\"Come at me, you dirty sons of bitches,\" He whispered, menacingly. He crouched in the crate, berries squished between his toes. If anyone opened the lid, he was prepared to pounce."
},
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nThe Adamant Raptor\n\nFleur hasn't gotten her hopes up very high for the trip, suspecting that if her mother had anything to do with it, she would have been left at the Keep and did not want to make herself too disappointed. So when it was time for them to leave, Fleur was absolutely elated. The entire journey was completely new to her- from the carriage ride, to boarding the ship, to watching men who didn't have any sea legs experience bouts of seasickness. Luckily, Fleur had not felt sick like them at all. On a different note- the girl had slept decently well so far on the nights of the trip, the bouts of nightmares at bay for the time being. Instead, the girl was wracked with strange dreams, ones she could not very much make sense of. \n\nThe dress upon Fleur's small frame was a deep green, chosen to starkly contrast her violet eyes. She had never gotten the chance to wear it before, and the thought of it had excited her. And so, upon her body it went. \n\nAs soon as land was called, Fleur had rushed quickly to the deck, and set herself near the ships railing to look out and watch as they approached land, until she was pulled back in by Lady Calypso under the promise she could go back out when her hair was finished. Soon enough, the ship was docked, and Fleur could barely contain her excitement.\n\nThe girl practically leaped down the ramp, nearly bowling past both Bastien and Lady Calpyso. Though, she dialed it back a bit when her gaze met her fathers- looking quite stern as always. Fleur knew that she could not cause any trouble during the stay, lest he decide he did not want to bring her on any further ventures. Maybe soon enough, she could accompany Bastien on his travels as well. Fleur would absolutely adore it- this could possibly be a step towards her freedom from her mother. \n\nFleur grinned up at Bastien as she approached, curtsying in front of him as he complimented her dress.\n\n\"I don't know, Lady Calypso, I am gonna get a *Lot* Of sweets.\" Fleur confirmed, a soft giggle escaping her lips.\n\n\"Do you think we're gonna meet any pirates?\" Fleur looked from her brother to Lady Calypso, waiting on either of them to answer. One of her favorite books we're about the adventures of pirates, and she was itching to meet one in person."
}
] | 366 | 7,013 |
631 | 2021-01-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon\nIn the Shade with a Snake\n\nThe snake felt cold since it was in the shade, and it would make any other person scream or shout, maybe shiver...\n\nBut we were talking about a boy who was way too curious about leeches fucking and dreamt ten times more terrible fates at night. He slowly peeked around to find its head, looking it over from top to bottom to see if this creature was venomous or not.\n\nFrom no bigger cheeks or jaws, round eyes, and a puppy-like mouth, this snake seemed to be more of a constricting killer than a venomous one.\n\nAfter that was distinguished, Puck had an easier time relaxing and watching the snake nearly slither up his pant leg. A snake near your crotch, venomous or not, was not ideal, so Puck pulled his pantleg tight, folding and rolling the pant leg so it was pegged tightly to his skin, no way the little creature could get past. \n\nHe didn't know why he was humoring this creature in the first place, but humor it he did, crouching down again so he could watch it closely. \n\nIt looked almost like... Glass blown. It was the only way he could describe the semi-translucent scales, fading to a slate grey. And where the sun hit the scales, it was iridescent, an attractive snake, as far as snakes go.\n\nSomething he could relate to. He moved his hand up to the head as it slithered around his knee, letting it crawl up his arm. He met its eyes at his shoulder, and his lipsp parted.\n\n\"Hm... It's not often I meet another just like me.\" He whispered to it, the snake smelling the air as the boy spoke in a quiet, breathy tone.\n-\n\nHe wondered why this snake seemed so friendly. Perhaps it was retarded, a stroke of luck that this snake hadn't died when it was a baby, or maybe it was fate, or a guardian, or a spirit. Perhaps the Snake was truly the original Puckgordon, keeping an eye on his namesake. \n\nPuckgordon stood up slowly, tilting his head to the side as the snake nudged it's rounded, soft nose at Puckgordon's jawline, insisting on passage across his chest to the other shoulder blade. \n\nWearing a snake as a scarf, Puckgordon began walking again. This time, people steered far away, many women and younger children *Eep*Ing at such a sight.\n\nAs Puckgordon neared his destination, the water growing boggier and the people looking well... More toothless, Puck felt... So much more familiar. Few people stared. Few people questioned. It was a relief, a bringing of peace.\n\nPuck brought the bucket toward a farmer, a leech farmer by the look of the blotchy spots over his arms.\n\nPuckgordon requested said leeches with simple and small words, but with straightforward intent, not allowing for his words to be aggressive. Yet. \"The largest ones. They're on King's orders.\"\n\nMarching from one leech farm to the other, he soon amassed a rather disturbing amount of the slimy, writhing things dancing across each other through the murky water of the pail. \n\nHe would bring them back. He realized he had forgotten the silver. He also realized simply saying that it was a king's order (even though they weren't the king's orders) was enough for them to comply. \n\nHe hoped he didn't get beaten for it. But, he always thought that efficiency was better than honesty. As long as it was the right people to lie too. A leech farmer would easily be able to have funds delivered to a later date. Simple as that.\n\n-\nHe had almost forgotten about the little creature hanging across his shoulder like a knight's badge, at times pushing through Puckgordon's hair back and forth to soak up the warmth atop his inky black locks.\n\nNow that Puckgordon thought about it, it must be the reason the snake had happened upon him at all. To soak up the warmth from being stuck near shadows for so long.\n\nPuckgordon didn't mind the company. It was fitting, a Snæch and a Snake, both pining for warmth.\n\nFunny thing. A Snæch and a Snake."
},
{
"author": "itscat1106",
"message": "Bastien de Lysse\nThe Adamant Raptor\n\nBastien's lips twitched at the eager words of his young sister. Fleur was adorable, but did not understand the very real danger that pirates held, especially towards the wealthy and exuberant de Lysse family. Bastien had shaken his head as he saw what ship his father had chosen. Though beautiful, it was rather flashy for being around a place known for pirates and thieves. A bit tasteless for the occasion, in Bastien's opinion. But his father was sentimental and it was Fleur's first trip, and he understood where his father was coming from with the decision.\n\n\"Well,\" He said slowly, as he lowered his tone to sound as though he was sharing a secret, \"Father did mention to me that we are under the protection of the Pirate King of the Isles himself, Bradai Maith.\" He arched an eyebrow slightly. \"Perhaps, if you ask politely, he would answer some questions you think of to ask him of his profession.\" He managed to keep his expression stoic as he nodded thoughtfully at his little sister. \"Yes. I doubt he would find another that admires his craft as much as you.\"\n\nHe glanced over and saw that his men were prepared to go. \"I will see you later this evening,\" He told his sister with a final pat on her head. He glanced over to see Bear being lead down to the pier. \"After I finish some business, I will either find you at our accommodations or locate you before then.\" \n\nHe took a step back, bowing slightly towards his sister and Lady Calypso, locking eyes with the latter. His eyes relayed yet another silent message to her. Indigo to dark brown. \"Ladies,\" He said, before turning to Cyprien. \"Father.\" He gave his father a nod before he walked down the pier to join his men. The wind ruffled his wine-colored shirt and snow-white hair as he mounted Bear, and he almost looked like a prince of sorts as he raised his hand in a brief farewell before taking off towards the town."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**The Port of Drase, Tonate Proper**\n\n\"And there he goes,\" Said lord De Lysse. He was proud of his son: so young, so dashing, so full of potential. A shame he was in presence of his troops and a stranger, and therefore had to remain impassible.\n\n\"We'll meet with Bradai Maith first. After that, you and your maid will be able to go wherever they please,\" He told Fleur.\n\nHer maid... One of the soldiers swallowed his tongue. Whether he had done it on purpose or not, Cyprien had just been disrespectful towards lady Kolgrim. Had Bastien not informed him on her status? In any case, the soldier did not dare to speak. He knew all too well that Cyprien wasn't fond of criticism unless it came from his inner circle of advisors."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nThe Port of Dase, Tonate Proper. \n\nLady Kolgrim Raised her dark eyebrows at Fleur question, she opened her mouth to answer but Bastien had already started talking. She listened to the nobleman, watching him act like he was sharing some vital information with the little Lady about The pirate king. Calypso let her eyes travel back up the city, acting like she didn't notice Lord Bastien's men looking at her like cats staring at the fishmonger stall.\n\nTonate Proper looked nothing like Sol, and curiosity rose in her chest, something pulling her towards the red brick and colorful dresses of the inhabitants of the capital. But she wasn't here for fun, Calypso had a duty to full fill and she was determined to do her bests at it. \n\nWhen ready to go, Bastien locked eyes with her again, \"Good luck with your duties my lord.\" Said her with a small curtsy. And then he was off, her eyes following momentarily his elegant figure disappeared between the streets. \nBut then Lord Cyprien was speaking and her attention focused on him as he explained what was their next step.\n\n*'Your maid.'*\nCalypso's dark eyes squinted lightly at the older man. It didn't look like he had realized his mistake in addressing her, but when she was about to open her mouth to correct him, she noticed a soldier slowly shaking her head at her. Calypso swallowed her pride, closing her mouth but keeping her head up, error or not she was not going to give the older man the satisfaction of lowering her gaze as she nodded at his words. He was Bastien's father after all. \nThen she turned towards Fleur, forcing a warm smile on her lips, imagining how excited the young lady would be. \"Are you ready my lady? \" Asked her."
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Bastien de Lysse\nWestward Keel\n\nAs Bear sauntered down the street, Bastien was aware of the numerous eyes watching him. Women, mainly, were staring quite openly, but children and men also studied him as he and his group of men walked by. A particular group of young women caught his eye. They were crowded beside the entrance of one of the many bathhouses for the middle-class on the street. Judging by their light robes, they were planning on going for a dip. They noticed him glance in their direction and held their hands over their mouths, partaking in a bout of lady-like giggles.\n\nBastien resisted to roll his eyes as he drove Bear close to them, the giggles turning into slight gasps and murmurs. \"Hello,\" He said as he looked down at them from his mount. He towered over them, not simply due to being upon a horse, but also because he had so tall a stature. His expression was icy. Elegant. Refined. \"Would one of you be able to give me directions?\"\n\nThe girls turned to look at one another with wide-eyes before erupting into another bout of giggles. One with long, golden curls wore a cat-like grin on her face as she tilted her head up at him. \"That depends on where you want to go,\" She said with a coy smile. Her thin cotton robe fluttered dangerously in the breeze, along with the other women's.\n\nBastien decided to ignore that remark, and her suggestive tone. \"I am looking for The Bizeron Forge,\" He said, his eyes glancing over the women before flicking away. \"Where is it?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" The golden-curled woman sounded mildly disappointed. \"It's a large building, about five minutes walk from here. The sign is black and gold, you can't miss it.\"\n\n\"Ah. I see.\" He was close, then. He gifted the woman with a small smile, a rare present that was bestowed upon few. Her cheeks flushed slightly. \"Your help has been most appreciated.\" He gave them a small nod. \"Ladies.\" He put Bear into a trot, leaving the group of giggling women behind him.\n\n\"Popular with the women, aren't you?\" Valmour, one of the men in Bastien's squad, asked as he rode beside Bastien with a smirk. He deepened his voice to try and imitate Bastien's low, husky voice. *\"Ladies~.\"*\n\nBastien and Valmour's relationship was more similar to friends than lord and squadman, luckily for Valmour. They had known each other for years, and Valmour seemed to like to get on Bastien's nerves at the earliest opportunity. \"I admire your courage in making such a remark,\" Bastien replied coolly, \"When I am heading to the blacksmith's to pick up a custom sword.\"\n\n\"Ahahaha..;;\" Valmour's smile paled. \"Though I can't tell if that is a threat or a joke. Your expression never changes when you kid.\"\n\nA small smile flitted on Bastien's face, but paired with his icy eyes it looked more ominous than friendly. \"Then make another joke and find out,\" He said as they neared the black and gold sign the woman had told them about. \"Ah. Here it is.\"\n\nHe dismounted Bear, handing the reins to the ever-pale Valmour before pushing open the door. A hot gust of breeze blew in his face and the sound of clanging metal crashed in his ears. *Hmm,* He thought as he studied the displayed swords, lances, and armour. The beauty and detail of each displayed piece was amazing. *They don't call the blacksmiths in the Westward Keel the best for nothing, I suppose.*\n\nA short, muscular man covered in sweat appeared from the back. He looked grimy and dirty, but he gave Bastien a friendly smile nonetheless. \"Hello, stranger. What can I help ya with?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes.\" Bastien crossed his arms across his chest as he viewed the short man in front of him. \"Are you Mister Bizeron?\"\n\nThe dirty man chuckled. \"Call me Charlie. But yeah, I'm Bizeron. Are ya here ta make an order?\"\n\n\"To pick up an order,\" Bastien corrected. \"Quite a large order. I previously sent a letter explaining what I wanted.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" Charlie's eyes lit up as soon as Bastien mentioned the letter. \"Yes, that wonderful, *Very expensive* Order. Ya must be Lord de Lysse.\" He gestured for Bastien to follow him to the back. \"Follow me.\"\n\nThey went through what Bastien had ordered for himself: a new set of armour, a beautifully designed war hammer, and new horseshoes for Bear. That was not what Bastien was most eager about, however. Finally, it came time for the last piece.\n\n\"I saved the best for last,\" Charlie said with a grin as he went into a side room. Bastien felt he was about to die of heat. In addition to the hot tropical weather, the forge was absolutely sweltering. *Perhaps I will look into those bathhouses,* He thought as he wiped the sweat from his brow.\n\n\"Here-!\" Charlie had a long object covered in cloth. Bastien watched as he carefully set it down, then opened the cloth to reveal what was inside. It was a foil sword, glistening silver. The blade was sharp and elegant. The handguard, instead of being a plain piece of metal, was a beautiful swirl of swooping lines in an intricate web pattern. The grip was striped with metal swoops, and had a soft texture that was comfortable in the hand. The end of the handle was a swirled, tear dropped shaped. It was beautiful.\n\n*Perfect.*\n\n\"Ya sure do know how to order a good foil,\" Charlie said with a nod. \"Very elegant, very classy.\"\n\n\"It will do,\" Bastien said with a nod, his expression still neutral. He put a hefty sack of coin on the table with a thunk, before grabbing the blade and its case. \"Your payment, along with gratuity.\"\n\nAs he left the blacksmith's shop, Valmour turned to look at him. \"So?\" He asked as Bastien went over to mount Bear. \"Was it to your liking?\"\n\nBastien felt a strong surge of happiness as he glanced down at the weapon in his hands. It was the perfect present. The rest of his things had been packed by the men in his squad. The ocean breeze cooled his face, making him feel as though anything was possible.\n\n\"Yes,\" He said, in his normal aloof tone. A slight flush appeared on his cheeks. Valmour knew that was a sign that Bastien was very pleased, but wanted to hide it. \"Yes, it is.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**The Irons, Tonate Proper**\n\nThe city had pleasantly surpised Cyprien: where he had imagined squalid junktowns, he had found colourful houses and roads, paved streets, guards and citizens. It was civilized. Where had he gotten the idea that the Isles were a backwater? Araedian diplomats had mentionned it once, if he recalled correctly. Well, they had proven to be dead wrong.\n\nAs Cyprien and his retinue advanced trough the streets in horseback, the people of Tonate made it's way to the balconies to witness their passage. Compared to the exuberant tropical flavour that had become the norm of the city, it was the cortege of House de Lysse which seemed exotic and out of place. Even the meringue and burgundy silks of their uniforms and banners looked cold and austere when contrasted against the red stone of the buildings.\n\n\"I see a big harbour from here,\" Said Cyprien to his captain as he pointed towards Hangman's Harbour \"Why didn't we dock there?\"\n\n\"You specifically requested to dock at the nearest port, my lord,\" Answed the captain.\n\n\"I want the _Adamant Raptor_ down there. And move the other ships if possible.\"\n\n\"As you wish, my lord.\"\n\nThe group made it's way cross the district, all the way to the House of Justice. Cyprien didnt knew what the building was, but he insinctively headed to the most imposing building in sight. The Irons district was a display of law and order: merchant bureaus, small barracks and watchtowers, administrative buildings, the house of justice... If the westward keel had offered an insight into the nature of Tonate's people, the Irons was a display of the might of their ruler. Being a compusive planifier himself, Cyprien could not help but be impressed by the delicate blend of popular initiative and subtle governmental control that the district bore testament of.\n\n\"Halt!\". They had reached the great manor whose nearby flags and standarts bore proudly the sign of the poppy. Cyprien wondered who were they about to meet..."
}
] | 444.5 | 3,786 |
230 | 2021-01-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "A Guard at the House of Justice\nThe House of Justice, the Irons, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Halt!\" A muscular man, clad in a teal jerkin and dark leather armor, was the first to take notice of the Terresolian nobles.\n\nHe was no one of note. Because the King's court was closed on festival days, there were long lines of townspeople that were waiting to receive justice or hear from one of the King's many justiciars. He had been positioned to make sure that the line stayed unruly. The Mainlanders, who he was sure were more accustomed to spitting on smallfolk then waiting behind them, were going to make his job harder. He sighed.\n\nThe guard had seen many mainlanders wait patiently in these lines, side-by-side with the most filthy and depraved that Tonate Proper had to offer. These Mainlanders did not seem so open minded. Simply by the way that the group had sauntered up, without a doubt \"Amazed\" At the concept that Tonate Proper was not a collection of mud huts, had told them all he needed to know.\n\n\"Did someone rob you, Mainlander?\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**The House of Justice - The Irons - Tonate Proper**\n\nSeemingly oblivious to the guard's question, the line and fact that the court was closed, or his total lack of subtlety; the velvet lord proceded to make his introduction:\n\n\"My name is Cyprien de Lysse, lord of the Grey Hills of Terresol. I am here to meet the Pirate King, as per his invitation.\"\n\nThe lord struck the guard as a theatrical character: the haughty demeanor he carried himself with, the ostentatious aspect of his retinue and their banners, the instinctive lack of attention he paid to his surroundings. All gave the impression of an actor playing the part a flamboyant king on a stage. Even the delivery of his introduction treaded the line between the overly serious and casual confidence."
},
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nThe Irons, Tonate Proper\n\nAs they walked, Fleur couldn't believe her eyes at how extraordinarily colorful everything is. The warmth the sun brought to her face seemed almost otherworldly. The whole experience almost felt like a dream, but Fleur knew that for once her dreams were actually happening. The young girl had always wanted to see the world, and now she was getting a small taste of it.\n\nThough, a slight pout was brought to her lips as she heard the words of her father. She waited until he had turned and begun walking, her feet moving to follow.\n\n\"Don't worry- he doesn't know what he's talking about.\" Fleur shook her head, smiling lightly at Lady Calypso as the other woman walked beside her.\n\nIt wasn't a very long walk until it had seemed like they got to where they were going, and Fleur fell silent as her father spoke to the man. Though, her eyes quite conveyed the excitement and wonder the new place had brought her."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nThe House of Justice, The Irons, Tonate Proper\n\nCalypso bit her tongue to keep her mouth shut, but still reserved a kind smile to Fleur who had reassured her, although she did not correct her father's error. The two walking side by on the unfamiliar streets of the capital, enchanted by the wonderful colors and completely different architecture choices, exchanging light jokes and pointing at things that fascinated them or confused them. \n\nOnce they finally arrived at their destination Calypso could barely hold back her amusement as a soldier spoke up to the De Lysse nobleman as if he was no better than any of the commoners standing in line. But again the man gave her no satisfaction, acting like he was above everything and anyone, ignoring his surroundings and the questions to him made.\nLike father like son after all."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Guardsman \nThe House of Justice, the Irons, Tonate Proper\n\n_\"Barer give me strength.\"_ The guard grumbled, watching as the lines of men and women quickly began to take notice of the Mainlander Lord with his retinue of guards. \n\n\"Go back to the Ir—\" The Guard began, but turned back inside the building to call for more men. Very quickly, men in a similar garb began to pour through the tall bloodstone doorway. A strange hissing sound began to come from the crowd. An old woman, her dark skin brindeled with creme colored hatchmarks, began to growl at them. Her hair, thick and matted, swung in heavy vines. She spit at their feet and began to howl. It traveled through the air like a siren's call, but with an inhuman quality like a beast or a ghost. Others joined the call, and from the crowd, a stone was whipped against the shields of one of the Terresolian Guards. _At least he wasn't Araedian._\n\n\"Escort them back to the 'angman's 'arbour.\" The guard commanded them, and very quickly, before they could command the attention of anyone else. \"Leave! Get them tha fuck out of 'ere!\" The King would hear about this, and when he did, he would not be pleased.\n\nWith two escorts dragging them along, the group made their way back to the Hangman's Harbor, in front of the garish Mainlander ship. The men that stood around them made no motion to speak to Lord de Lysse. Although they were dutiful in their watch, they clearly had better places to be."
}
] | 212 | 1,150 |
232.2 | 2021-01-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**Hangman's Harbour**\n\nAttacked by a mob, then being brought back to the port, instead of being led before the Pirate King. Because of his complete unfamiliarity with the city, Cyprien didn't suspect what the guards were doing until it was too late to turn back.\nThe gall of these men. He had been expressly summoned by their ruler, and yet these black-clad thugs had the audacity to politely show him the door of his ship, in a figurative sense.\nHe abstained from raging at them. Letting them all leave before adressing his men. Losing one's temper is a sign of weakness after all.\n\n\"Tell one of the squads from the boat to come with us,\" He ordered his men. \"We're going to attempt meeting the Pirate King once again, and it looks like we may need some muscle: If another throng of dung-burners tries to block our path again, bash them with your shields. But be careful not to injure anyone, we only need to make our way to that castle.\"\n\nThe guards turned their heads to where Cyprien was pointing. Now that the group was in Hangman's Harbour, the distinctive shape Maith Mainsion could be seen standing proudly over the skyline.\nIt was a building far more majestic than the Hall of Justice, and as long as his intuition didn't fail him again, Cyprien now had little doubt of where he could find Tonate's Pirate King."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Captain Williams\nHangman's Harbor \n\nThe Captain of the small gaggle of black cloaked guards that had come with them turned around. Campbell had been with Bradai Maith since before the fall of Feyshore, and had been one of the largest forced that joined together to create a group of like minded individuals called the Ruby Crosses. He had seen a small time smuggler transform a small estate, a group of trading sloops and a company of hired hands into an empire that stretched from Terresol to Doltun.\n\nWhen he turned around to face the lord, he cast a great shadow over him. The King had done right by him, had kept every promise he made, and had broken it only once, when they both stood to profit from it. This man, who from what he had been told, was granted stolen land, given to him as a gift, not even taken as conquest, had come to his King's island and had flaunted his wealth. This man stood before his King's people and had called him a Pirate, had shamed and discredited their King with the ridiculous title that the Mainland had placed upon him. And now he stood, prancing about and squawking like a peafowl in his ridiculous attire. Campbell would not have it. \n\n\"When you talk of our King, you will use the proper terms.\" He took a heavy breath through his mouth and continued. \"His Grace, His Excellence, His Majesty. If you call him a Pirate King, you are calling us pirates, and him a pirate. And by this...\" Hung by his side was a mace, with a jagged steel head as large as a melon. \"I cannot abide.\" He placed a hand on the pommel of his weapon.\n\n\"I'm sure you will find the rooms His Grace has set aside for you to be unparalleled by anything you may find on your mainland.\" A silence hung between them, before a group of horse drawn carriage began to roll down the street, teal poppy banners flapping at their sides. \n\n\"Now apologize.\""
},
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur de Lysse\nHangman's Harbor\n\nFleur was... Confused, to say the least. The previous incident with the crowd had the small girl a bit afraid, as one of the people nearly spat on her dress- she didn't really know why, it wasn't like she had done anything wrong had she?\n\nFleur stayed near Calypso, her light silver hair blowing gently from the sea breeze. Fleur was glad they were outside, for she was getting to feel a bit claustrophobic with the amount of people around. \n\n\"Pardon my intrusion-\" Fleur spoke, addressing the captain. She knew that it probably wasn't a good idea, and she would benefit more from holding her tongue, but she couldn't help but feel like she needed to speak.\n\n\"I quite like the idea of pirates.\" It was simple, and seemed like all the girl was going to say, as her eyes shifted back to Lady Calypso- hoping her father wouldn't reprimand her for speaking out of turn."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Captain Willaims\nHangman's Harbor\n\nCampbell looked down at the noble girl, who had spoken up in her father's defense. He narrowed his eyes.\n\n\"Have you ever met one?\""
},
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nHangman's Harbor\n\n\"No.\" She said simply, her eyes shifting back to the man as he addressed her.\n\n\"I've read many books about them, and they all have a very common theme within them. That they are quite misunderstood, and much of what they do is for families and friends and not for selfish gain. Pirates have been labeled as bad people, but I don't think they are. Everyone has the capability of doing bad things. Some pirates at least own up to them rather than try to hide their intentions. I think they're fascinating.\" Fleur shrugged. She knew not to say much- she obviously wasn't extremely educated in the subject, but the girl was simply speaking her mind. Of course- the books she read were all about pirate adventures, and never really told her anything about \"Bad\" Pirates. Children's stories."
}
] | 211 | 1,161 |
458.428571 | 2021-01-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Captain Willaims\nHangman's Harbour\n\n\"So perhaps you understand why a man of good repute, as our King, would not want to be called a pirate. It's a name Mainlanders have cast on our people for hundreds of years. He is a good man and he has a good heart. Those good pirates you speak of, those with freedom and faith in their hearts, they joined our King when he called the true Islanders to his cause. They're Privateers. They fight for every one of us. He fights for every one of us. \" He didn't give her a smile, but for only an instant, he saw the Princess in her.\n\nHe thought back to the night in the Stormalong inn, where she had asked him if they were to keep her safe. His expression softened. \"You too, if you believe in him. His people hate that title. Pirate King.\" The Captain spit on the ground at the mention of it. \"Your Lord is wrong to call him that. He is our King. He ended piracy. They hang here in our harbor. Our port is filled with their bones. He invited you here to see it.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**Hangman's Harbour**\n\nDespite Fleur's intervention, Cyprien still felt the need to right his wrong. However, and for some unkown reason, he did not apoligize. He decided instead to praise the islander king in the most akward way possible:\n\n\"In that case, let us meet the King of the Isles,\" Said the lord of De Lysse. \"If these are the trophies he displays on his harbour, I can only wonder what can be found in those rooms you speak about.\"\n\nOne of his guards facepalmed. An eye, it's gaze halfway into cringe and desperation, looked at Campbell from between the fingers of his glove."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nHangman's Harbor\n\nEverything happened a lot faster than she could expect. When the beggars and people from the other lines started to crowd around the small group of foreigners Calypso immediately put herself in front of Fleur, shielding the girl. Her right hand flew on top of her skirt, pressing on to it she could feel the dagger strapped at her thigh, but avoided taking it out as the guards started to surround them guiding them back to the Harbor.\n\nNot once Calypso had left the side of Fleur, keeping one arm in front of the young Lady to protect her. Calypso's jaw was set and her eyes dark. Every muscle tensed up.\n\nWhen they finally arrived back to the Harbor, Calypso listened to The words of the Capitan, who towered over Lord Cyprien, registering every word that was spoken so that she could report to Lord Bastien what had happened, but her concentration got interrupted as Fleur spoke. She quickly turned around to shus the girl, but the captain encouraged her to continue. \nOnce Fleur was done she could not believe that the little girl had any connection to that arrogant man that was her father. Thank goodness the Captain seemed to appreciate Fleur's intervention and his expression softened.\nCalypso turned around giving her a sincere smile and a light caress on her hair \"Well done my lady, but please be more careful about speaking out of terms.\" Whispered her.\n\nLady Kolgrim thought that maybe now the tension would dissolve, and the misunderstanding gets sorted... That until Lord De Lysse spoke again. The nobleman was showing her his back but if he were to turn around he would get stabbed by her glare... And maybe even by the real dagger concealed under her skirt. What's wrong with the men in this family??\nShe looked around to the lord's Men hoping someone, *Anyone* Would intervene, but she was met with low glances and facepalms. Was this idiot set to get all of them killed? \n\nShe bit the inside of her cheek so tightly that the taste of iron started to tickle her tongue, her hands curled into fists. She had just reprimanded Fleur about speaking out of terms and she was surely not in the same position as the young lady. But gods, never in her life Calypso had wanted to yell at a man so much, not even at her own father."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "The Docks of Tonate Proper**\n \n\"For a place called Hangman's Harbor, it is surprisingly short on hanged men,\" Dennon said, still glancing around in anticipation of seeing one.\n \n\"They hang them from the city walls, I think,\" Kirk commented as he shielded his eyes from the sun while watching their travel cargo be unloaded. \"Perhaps we'll be able to see some when we get to the mansion. I can't say for sure. My business last time I was here did not take me to that part of the city.\" He frowned, remembering the disastrous attempt of trying to salvage an antique collection at the Waller residence.\n \n\"I'm so thirsty,\" The now disguised Anna Barrmount said as she mopped sweat from her forehead. \"Northerners weren't meant to be in ovens like this.\"\n \n\"We'll try to find something to drink... Uh,\" Kirk struggled to remember.\n** **\n\n\"Braylena,\" Said Anna, reminding him of her alias taken on to protect the identity of a body double being sent North in her place. The wiser decision might have been to leave her in Ibethiel, but Lucrezia had wanted herself and Kirk to spend every possible moment together.\n \n\"We *Need* To pick a new name,\" Kirk muttered.\n \n\"I think it's a pretty name,\" Dennon cut in.\n \n\"It's less pretty knowing that it belonged to your dead girlfriend, made weirder by the fact that it was you who suggested it,\" Kirk turned his attention to the king.\n \n\"I'm supposed to be a lady in waiting, am I not? What lady am I supposed to be waiting on? It might make a sad bit of sense if Dennon was keeping me around just because I shared a name with his tragic love-\" Anna paused, fanning her eyes. \"I'm actually tearing up a bit imagining it.\"\n \n\"Good thinking,\" Dennon complimented.\n \nKirk glared at the two of them. \"When I think of a good replacement name, we're changing it!\"\n \n**. . .**\n** **\n\nThey were soon found by a delegation from House Maith and escorted to waiting carriages for transport to Maith Mansion, home of their host, Pirate King Bradai Maith. The Ibbish had been invited by the pirate king to the Isles for the festival and to make their nations a bit closer together. Dennon had at first been surprised at the invitation from the most notable seafaring kingdom to his famously landlocked kingdom, but he wasn't going to complain.\n \n***A couple weeks earlier in Ibethiel...***\n \nDennon and Verina were standing in the corridor of the castle. \"I'll be worried while you're gone. The North is not a pleasant place.\"\n \nVerina smiled. \"I'm sure I'll be treated well as Lady Anna's decoy. Besides, I'll be worried about the rest of you here. At least I'll be away from you-know-whom.\"\n \n\"Dennon,\" Lucrezia called out from down the hallway. \"You're going to The Southern Isles. Meet me in an hour to discuss it. Bring Kirk with you.\"\n \n\"Nice!\" Dennon exclaimed but immediately tried to tone down the excitement. \"Oh, but good luck in the North though. I'm sure the snow is very pretty. I'll probably get too hot down there anyway.\" It was too late. The devastation could not be wiped from Verina's face.\n** **\n\n***Present day...***\n \nDennon looked out the window of their Maith-sponsored carriage. \"That girl leaning against the brothel, she reminds me of our dear friend back home who volunteered to look after your shop while we're away.\"\n \n\"Mr. Albury?\" Anna asked.\n \n\"Considering the life he's lived, I wouldn't be surprised if he has a daughter running around,\" Kirk said, not caring to look himself.\n \n\"I don't think it would be a daughter, they look about the same age,\" Said Dennon.\n \nThe House Maith envoy spoke up. \"Would you like me to have the girl brought to your room tonight?\"\n \n\"Uh... No thank you. I'm alright,\" Dennon said uncomfortably.\n \n\"Well...\" Kirk seemed to mull it over, only for Anna to regard him with horror. \"No for me too, I guess. I'm newly married.\"\n \n**. . .**\n** **\n\nAt Maith Mansion, they were separated from Anna, who went to do the job she was only pretending to have, organizing the luggage in their rooms. Dennon and Kirk were left in a sunny sitting room with a seaside view. The ceiling and walls were made of stone, with the outside wall consisting of rocky pillars to let in light. The staff member that had left them alone there informed the men that they were welcome to help themselves to the decanters of wine and rum while they waited.\n \n\"It's been so long since I've had rum,\" Dennon squinted his eyes together from the strength of the liquor in his throat after taking a sip.\n \n\"I'm just glad to be celebrating the fact that we're on solid ground again,\" Kirk said, downing the glass in one gulp. They each sat down in the comfortable chairs in the room, waiting for the arrival of their host.\n \n\"I recall us agreeing a bit during moments on the council floor, but I never really got to speak with Bradai while we were in Taemar. Perhaps I made more of an impression than I thought.\" Dennon mulled over their purpose for being in the Isles.\n \n\"A knight gets noticed for his merits. You need to think more like a king. If someone notices you, they probably want something from you.\"\n \n\"You think so?\" Dennon asked.\n \nKirk raised an eyebrow. \"At first, I thought it was just because I'd been to the Isles before. Now I know why Lucrezia wanted me to come along.\"\n \n**. . .**"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe King's Solar, in the Maith Mansion\n\nBradai narrowed his eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror on his desk. He had seen Silas inspect himself on a number of occasions, placing his delicate fingers underneath his eyes and chin, pulling back the skin to make it taught, as if to appear younger. Bradai could not remember what the man looked like when they first met, but on account of his Seneschal's preening and primping, the man hadn't seemed to age a day. He, on the other hand, was getting old.\n\nIt wasn't something he thought he could avoid. He had surrounded himself with older, wiser men. He had seen their skin begin to sag and their hair start to go grey. It was something he knew would come. He clenched his fist and felt his fingers tighten, pursing his lips at the reflection staring back at him. What blood remained on his cheek was wiped away with his thumb. \n\nHe was forty four years old, but he had the body of a much older man. His joints ached endlessly. He had thought that when he broke free from his bondage as a young man, the slavers would not take anything more from him. But now they were taking his knees and shoulders, giving him stiffness in his fingers when he wrote for a long time and made his eyes hurt when he read by candlelight. And the most terrifying thing about it was how slowly it had come upon him. He'd never get it back. He was afraid of that. He was not afraid of an assassin. At least he hadn't died trying to kill a King. He picked up the cigar from where it sat, smoldering in a ceramic dish, and stuck it in his mouth.\n\nA soft knocking on his office door brought the entire room to silence. Before him were his council members, all staring dumb and dopeyed. Lord Wynt Dwyer, Lady Imogen Pebbles, Donli Thissle, his sister and about a dozen Poppies that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere. They were all standing around the body of the assassin, who now rested as a bloody pulp on the floor. One of his wives. Someone had paid her off. Not the first time someone had charged at him with a knife, but the first time that it had been it had been a wife. He'd send to the Isle of Tatters for a new one. Anyone who thought that a wife could get close enough to kill him clearly didn't know anything about him.\n\n\"Come in Ollie. If you're not Ollie, fuck off.\" \n\nThe door opened and closed, and the young man weaseled his way through the small crack. He stepped through the King's council, and over the dead body as if it was not even there. \n\n\"The King of Ibethiel is here to see you, your Majesty.\"\n\n\"Great. Great. Beautiful. Great.\" Bradai said, standing up from his desk. He picked up the mirror, its handle saturated in blood, and placed it in his scribe's hands. \"Vhat leaves all of you to figure out 'ow to get rid of the body of my stunning dead wife.\" \n\nHe took the piece of cloth he used to wipe the ink off of his hands and began to scrub the blood off of his fingers, and when they were clean, he slipped one or two rings onto his fingers. The Pirate King had sixteen wives when he woke up this morning, had beat one to death with his fists as she came at him with a knife, and now was just thankful that he had one less ring to wear. \n\n\" 'ere's how we're going to play vhis. Wife number five, Neave Bluebelle 'as an 'eadache. She can't come to tha festival today. If anyone asks, vhat's what you say. We're all 'ere, so we all 'ave tha same story. If anyone doesn't know, vhen vhey don't need to know. Are you all clear?\" The Pirate King stood from the desk and tucked the thick, leather bound ledger underneath his arm. He began to walk past his Council, and over the dead body, to make his way to the door.\n\n_\"What?\"_\n\nThe Pirate King's head spun on his neck, like a tiger at the sound of a broken branch. The voice of Wynt Dwyer filled the silence that was supposed to hang after the King's hypothetical question. \n\nThe Pirate King let the leather bound book fall away from under his tucked arm, into a heap of ribbons, parchment, and metal rings. It fell to the ground in a heavy thump as the Pirate King closed the distance between them. He grabbed the boy by the lapels and pulled him close. \n\n\"Your favher was a fat coward who surrendered too early. You are 'is second son. You are also new to my court, so consider vhis tha first and last time anyone 'as to tell you vhis: People 'oo do not know me soon come to learn vhat I do not act in a way vhat a King should act. I beat my Queen to deff wiff my hands. See?\" He pointed to the body and held the finger in his face. \"'er blood is under my fingernails. So please understand vhat it is imperative vhat you listen to me when I speak.\" He blew a puff of smoke into Wynt's face, \"Don't fucking say \"Yes\" Or, \"Fank you your majesty\" Or I will tear your fucking 'ead off.\" The dropped the boy \"Now pick up my fucking book.\" \n\nThe man did as he was told, and put the book into the King's hands. He plucked the cigar from his mouth and tossed it onto the carpet that his wife was soaking into. \n\nA half an hour later, after a wardrobe change and a briefing, the Pirate King made his way into the Sunroom. \n\n\"I kept you waiting.\" He said to Dennon and Kirk, \"It's been quite a morning.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby\nA Sunroom in the Maith Mansion**\n\nDennon and Kirk stood to greet the pirate king when he entered the room. \"Not to worry, it didn't feel like much of a wait in the slightest. We've just been enjoying the lovely view while getting used to the feeling of solid ground underneath our feet once again after our voyage here,\" Dennon reassured their host as he gestured toward the cityscape overlook that the sunroom provided. \"Also joining me is my associate, Lord Kirk Pinewood. You may remember him from the wedding at the Council of Marin a few months ago. He's had business here in the Isles before, and I thought he'd be a valuable contributor during this visit.\"\n\nKirk nodded to Bradai. \"Your Grace.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nA Sunroom in the Maith Mansion\n\n\"I'm glad you've been enjoying it. A lot of people say vhat sea breeze is medicinal. Vhose people 'ave never really been on a ship.\" The Pirate King had gone right for the drink cart, and had begun to pour himself a tall glass of rum. When he looked into the small brass pot at the bottom of the cart, and found that it was full of cold water, he turned back around to face them both, wide eyed and staring. \"Are you two fond of ice? I personally fink you can't 'ave rum wiffout ice. And lime. Do you boff want lime as well?\" \n\nHe did not wait for them to answer, pointing at the crossbowman who he had stationed by the door, flicking his finger with a \"You, go.\" \n\nWhen he was gone, the Pirate King smiled, taking his seat in a tall wicker chair beside them. Despite having no ice and no lime, the Pirate King seemed to like his rum just fine, and drank the whole thing in a single draw. \n\n\"Now vhat we're alone.\" The Pirate King placed his glass on the table beside him, \"I'd like for you boff to call me Bradai. I've no interest in titles and pleasantries. You're guests to me, and you came in good faiff. Vhat's good enuff for me, aye?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Seeing Bradai down his glass immediately, Dennon finished off his as well since he only had a sip before to taste it. The blaze in his throat immediately made him wish that he'd known about the option of ice beforehand. It hadn't occurred to him that a place like the Isles would have anything remotely cold. \"Smooth.\" He attempted to avoid sounding raspy.\n\nKirk joined in the fun, finishing his second glass. The antiquities dealer soon became aware of how little he had eaten that day. If the Islanders hadn't been waiting to receive them, they might have looked for something to eat now that they were on land. They had eaten very little on the ship, hoping to avoid seasickness.\n\n\"That's good to hear, *Bradai*.\" Dennon continued, emphasizing the Pirate King's name. \"I still sometimes forget to turn my head if people say something to me without using my name. I suppose you grew up never thinking you'd have any sort of title, much like me. Actually, I suppose that wasn't entirely accurate for me. I did enjoy being 'Sir' for a short while since I'd worked for it, though even then, I didn't always feel like I deserved it.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "\"Aye.\" Bradai said, remembering, \"You were a knight. I suppose you enjoyed vhat more, eh? It's easier to protect men and women wiff a sword vhan wiff a quill. And I wouldn't fink about your worvhyness too much. Speaking as a man 'oo 'as been on tha wrong side of boff a king and a knight, we 'ate vhem boff equally, I assure you.\" \n\nWhen Bradai stood up to get the decanter of rum, he brought the decanter of wine with him, placing both on the table beside him. He refilled his glass, just in time for the guard to return with limes and a refilled pot of ice. After that, he dismissed him permanently, leaving the three to talk in private.\n\n\"Sometimes, 'aving a trading company is worff vhe 'eadache.\" He laughed, and motioned for the guard to come beside him. A large cube of ice was placed inside his stout glass. He motioned to Kirk, \"Your 'eadache will be due to tha rum. We should get you somefing to eat before tha tourney, because tha wine will be flowing quite liberally I'm afraid.\" He flashed Kirk a smile, his three golden teeth on display. \"Are eivher uff you hungry after anyfing in particular? Cigars, maybe?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"The cigars here are edible-?\" The end of Dennon's question was cut off by Kirk clearing his throat loudly.\n\n\"A cigar with lunch sounds like a great idea,\" Kirk agreed, rephrasing Bradai's proposal.\n\nDennon wasn't sure what would be the best thing to ask for in a place perhaps not having some of the same resources as the mainland. He'd hate to suggest something that their host could not provide. \"I'd like whatever you think we would need to eat in order to say that we had truly experienced The Southern Isles.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King shook his head and smiled, clapping his hands together. He sighed, but in a calm and good natured way. \"Fish it is, I suppose.\" \n\nBradai walked to the door and knocked on it twice. It swung open just enough for him to mutter something in Silvertongue and walked back to his chair, pouring himself another tall glass of rum. \n\n\" 'ose idea was it to marry you off to Anna Barrmount?\" Bradai asked suddenly, placing the glass between his knees and leaning forwards to look at Kirk. \"And 'ow many men did you send? I 'eard men left right before you came 'ere. What was vhat number?\" \n\nAs if to interrupt his line of questioning, a man came in with a box of cigars. \"Pick out which one you like. By the time you're finished we'll 'ave our meal.\" Bradai chose one from the top of the stack and stuck it in his mouth, removing a tinderbox from his jacket and lighting a small flame in the dish by the decanters. In the blink of an eye, he moved the flame of the flint into a thin taper candle, which he used to light his cigar. \"How do you fink your people see it? Your Queen, sending a military expedition Norff like vhat?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk began to feel nauseous at the mention of fish, but he hoped that the fact they were right by the sea would help ensure that it was prepared well. \"I'd have to say it was Queen Lucrezia's brilliant idea. She's got a knack for coming up with great ideas like that on the spot, right Dennon?\" The king remained silent as they reached for cigars. \"She saw a girl in desperate need of help and with a willingness to give her hand in marriage to get it, and Lucrezia wanted the payoff that a mercenary contract would provide. I suppose marital rites aren't the most conventional form of collateral, but it did provide assurance. Perhaps I wouldn't have been the first choice for an eligible Ibbish bachelor to be placed on the table as part of the bargain, but since there were no other bachelors that went to Taemar for the council and the short time available to secure the deal was running out, it came down to me.\"\n\nAs Kirk spoke, Dennon lit his own cigar, bringing in the first puff of smoke over his palette before letting it escape. When the small man's subtly passive aggressive monologue came to an end, the king continued with the next question. \"There have perhaps been small parties sent over the border in Terresol to ensure that the journey for the larger force would be a smooth one, but the army hasn't left yet. The trouble was that they were lacking supplies for endurance of the cold weather that awaits them in The Witherlands, especially for a mercenary force of this size. Six thousand men, give or take. However many Lady Anna believes the Iron Plaines can pay for when this is all over.\"\n** **\n\nDennon went on. \"How do my people feel? I know a number of them have enjoyed the work provided by supplying the mercenaries, and the payment for the kingdom that will be provided when it's over will benefit the land greatly. Ibethiel is known for its reliable mercenary supply, and it has been some time since there was a conflict large enough to mobilize so many men, all wanting to become soldiers of fortune. There was also the hardship that came from the plague. Many had difficulty finding work, some dared not even leave their homes at the height of the sickness. Now that the plague finally seems to be dying out, many will be wanting to stake their claim in the world. A payment like this could help a young man start a business upon his return.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King resisted the urge to take notes. Kirk Pinewood was just as unsatisfied with the union as Anna Pinewood, or at least he seemed to be. Ibethiel's entire role in global politics could best be described as \"Reluctant\", and Lord Pinewood's disposition was certainly on brand. \n\n\"You're not 'appy wiff it? She is quite lovely, if not a bit skittish. Men 'ave certainly...\" He took a puff from his cigar, \"_done worse for wives._\" He lifted up a hand to show off the many rings that adorned his fingers, in seeming reference of himself, but it didn't take very much to read the subtext. Dennon was a good man, but his reputation as a good husband was more suspect. It was clear to anyone with eyes that he wasn't particularly fond of his Queen. Their union had been rushed, and many had made silent objection to a smalltime Knightsblood become one of the most powerful men in the South, although no one would make their feelings known with the Mad Bitch of Hexrakes running around, hanging children just as quickly as she pined for them. \n\nSix thousand. The Pirate King nodded. \"And 'ow do your people feel about you, Dennon? 'Oo do vhey like more, you or 'er Grace?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"She is lovely, quite kind-hearted as well. Most people probably couldn't ask for a better wife, but maybe that's why I have such a hard time accepting it. I *Didn't* Ask for it. My queen told me to do it. I expressed my misgivings at the time, but she can be quite... Persuasive.\" Kirk took a quick puff of his now lit cigar and chuckled to himself. \"I never wanted to be nobility when I was younger. Sure, there were times when I was a bit wanting when I was short on coin, but I knew the life I wanted to live. I didn't want some marriage arranged for political reasons. I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to get married at all. The thought passed my mind a few times about who would get my shop, but I wasn't in a rush to do anything about it.\" He paused and took a deep breath. \"Of all the people who would have been chomping at the bit for an opportunity like this, it came down to me. Anna and I still feel like strangers right now, but perhaps with time, we will build a happy life together. Still, happy or not, my life is never going to be the same again.\"\n** **\n\nDennon wished he drank with Kirk more often to hear this side of him, but he preferred that he wouldn't vent all his problems onto the king of the Southern Isles. Then again, perhaps Bradai being a stranger from a far-away land is what made it so easy to say what he said. It then became his turn to answer. \"What can I say? Lucrezia is the people's Queen.\" He said, implying that his humility was being masked by complimenting his wife, all to hide how much the kingdom generally seemed to dislike him. Many viewed him as a traitor to the Carbonells, even if they did love Lucrezia as a replacement. Others were very much in the queen's pocket. Those close to the castle who were more aware of the truth did little to help him. Dennon had no lordship that would support him. He lost a lot of good will by helping Lucrezia. Despite having little to lose, Dennon was still an honorable man. He thought he was helping Cheston, not sending him to his doom. The king often wondered if perhaps that had been one of the main reasons why Lucrezia wanted him so much. Despite his objections to the things she often did, he could never betray her, even for all that she'd done. Even if he could be pushed to that limit, he did not hold enough power or influence to do anything about it.\n** **\n\n\"People don't really like you anyway, Dennon.\" Kirk chimed in, saying the quiet part out loud.\n\n\"There were some more vocal opposing voices early on, but life has moved forward all the same.\" Dennon conceded some ground, hoping it would be enough for Kirk not to press it further.\n\n\"I certainly haven't been the biggest fan lately.\" Kirk grinned as he wiggled the ring on his finger.\n\n\"Perhaps you'd enjoy taking a walk, Kirk. The fresh air could do you some good. Maybe you'll find a bucket of spoiled milk to sell at your antique store.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I'll sell it to your wife by telling her it's a bucket of your discarded seed.\"\n\n\"What!?\"\n\n\"And if in nine months, she gives birth to a son with bull horns and hooves for hands, I'll buy you a steak.\" He took an aggressive puff of the cigar and started laughing midway through, accidentally inhaling some of it, which sent him into a coughing fit.\n\n**Choke harder, lightweight.** Dennon thought to himself before turning awkwardly to Bradai. \"Oh...\" His voice faltered. \"That Ibbish sense of wit got out of hand. My apologies if any of that seemed rude or...\" Kirk stood up to get closer to the pillar windows at the edge of the sunroom so that he could continue coughing his lungs up. \"...Aggressive. T'was all in jest.\""
}
] | 283.5 | 6,418 |
314.2 | 2021-01-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nHangman's Harbor\n\nFleur nodded along lightly to the man's words. He was right, and there was no denying it. \n\n\"I am glad to be able to see what he accomplished here.\" Fleur gave the man a gentle smile, before filling quiet again once more as her father spoke. Though, the smile on her face soon fell, and she looked towards Lady Calypso with raised eyebrows- a look that conveyed something to say, but the girl stayed silent, hoping it was taken as no offense to the man. Fleur's wonder for the place had not dimmed, and she did not want to be forced to leave so early due to speaking out of turn.\n\nFleur noticed Calypso's demeanor change, her body tensing. The girl reached out to rest a gentle hand on her arm, looking up to meet her gaze.\n\n\"Thank you.\" Fleur smiled, gently. She was trying to show her appreciation for the woman's protection, back with the crowd. Fleur had indeed noticed it, and although it was the woman's job, she still felt the need to show her gratitude."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia Lyanah\nTonate Proper\n\nPatience. It was a trait Cecilia didn't carry in her genes and was something that quite often got her in a lot of trouble. Her chin was raised whilst she looked towards the one of the hatches that separated the tunnels from the land above, both of her hands planted against the cool steel rod connecting to a ladder she was to climb. The shifter was waiting for the perfect moment to begin her ascent toward the streets, when there were no footsteps or mutterings from both the islanders and mainlanders as they passed by. She didn't know where she was to be exact, having lost her way many times whilst being too stubborn to reach out to one of the poppies she could smell near. The shifter knew she was being watched constantly and it came as no surprise considering she had made multiple attempts on their King's life. \n\nNoticing the momentary silence, the shifter began her way up the ladder before pulling the latch connected from its hold so she could push the door open. Her hand immediately rose to shield her eyes as they squinted from the brightness that poured into her vision, having grown accustomed to the darkness the tunnels provided. She didn't waste time in climbing herself to the surface before releasing the hatch to once again seal the tunnel.\n\nAs her eyes adjusted to the light, Cecilia began putting distance between the entrance she rose from and herself to avoid drawing attention. Observing her surroundings, the shifter noticed the rare luck was by her side and had placed her in one of the least populated areas of the city which neared closer to the farms. Or perhaps it was the poppies who had discreetly guided the shifter to one of the safer exits without her knowledge. She wouldn't put it past them. Unsure what to do now that the bowels of tonate no longer suffocated her, Cecilia decided to enjoy her small moment of freedom before she was forced back into hiding. As she began her journey towards the tournament she had caught whispers about, the shifter spotted a peculiar male with a reptile that acted as an accessory over his shoulders and raised her brows in interest before changing her direction towards him. \n\n\"Is it dead?\" She questioned with a raised voice from behind him."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nTonate Proper\n\nPuck was getting a headache. The southern isles were nice for most, but that suffocating dampness and decay of Melsoh was what this boy was used to. This fresh island air and lovely warmth were... Unsavory in his book. \n\nEspecially with his illness acting up recently, he was feeling worse than usual, and he walked slowly, watching his feet move one step at a time in front of him. His eyes felt glazed, his body felt like a knot that had been wet down and dried up again... He hardly even heard a woman's voice call out.\n\nHis head raised, and he looked around, finding her a few feet from him. *Is it dead? Is what dead? The fuck is she on about-*\n\n\"Oh.\" He glanced down at the snake. \"No. It's alive.\" He moved up a finger to push up the snake's head to face her, and the snake slowly moved across his hand. The snake was, in fact, alive. He dropped his hand, and the snake slowly lowered itself to comfortably be folded around his shirt again, its head resting in the shadow of his collarbone.\n\nPuck was now unsure of what to do, now. He took a step backward, beginning to turn around. *Fucking weird people in the isles...* \"Ahem... Bye.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse**\n**Main entrance of the Maith Mansion**\n\nThe journey to the king's castle was not as colorful and vivid as the one that had followed the groups' first arrival. A ring of men bearing the turquoise banners surrounded Cyprien's retinue all the way to the Maith Mansion, perhaps seeking to intimidate the bombastic nobleman into manners, or simply to stop him from causing more chaos after his earlier declaration of bravado.\n\nThe trip was made in utter silence, with the captain throwing murderous gazes from the corner of his eye every time someone whispered or cleared their throat. When the cortege of House de Lysse finally made it to the mansion's entrance, they simply turned their backs and dissapeared back into the streets, unwilling to spend a single second more with the mainlanders.\n\n\"Well,\" Said Cyprien. \"We're finally here.\"\n\nHe was about to announce his arrival, when he suddenly remembered the earlier debacle. It was better to give that job to someone else.\n\n\"Sthendal,\" He told his captain. \"Notify the Pira... Notify the King that his guest are here.\""
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nHangman's Harbor/ Main entrance to the Maith Mansion\n\nCalypso's eyes glanced over to the lady, feeling her smaller hand on her arm, her soft voice reaching her ear. But despite the kind and gentle aura of the little girl, nothing could shoot Calypso's nerves at the moment. She wasn't sure what Fleur was thanking her for, but still, she gave her a small nod \"It's my duty my lady. No need to thank me.\" Her voice dry and maybe a little cold, her body still tense as they took off towards the castle. Calypso had absolutely nothing against Fleur. Actually, she found the little lady the more enjoyable member of the family to this moment.\n\nBut the attitude of Lord De Lysse put her in a terrible mood. Men like this infuriated her. Just because they had titles and land, they acted like everyone was beneath them, not even trying to put on a smile to save troubles for everyone. While she had spent years of her life learning when, how, and of what she was allowed to talk about to not raise any unwanted attention.\n\nFleur was gentle, Selene was undoubtedly smart, almost to a scary degree, Bastien was... Somewhat decent.\n\nWas it possible that all the inbreeding went to obfuscate the mind of the Head of the Family?\n\nThat's was what she wondered as the nobleman almost committed the same error for the second time. She looked at Fleur for a moment forcing her lips into a kind smile \"At least we have you to save the situation.\" Whispered her alluding at the great skills of diplomacy that the girl had previously demonstrated with the Captain."
}
] | 283 | 1,571 |
213 | 2021-01-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nThe air was abuzz with a sort of contagious excitement and joy, which even Catarina, for all the grief she had experienced these past few years, was not immune to. The children did, however, spark a slight pang in her heart. The dark curls and sun-tanned skin reminded her so much of Mireli...\n\nShe shook her head, brushing such thoughts aside as she examined the goods in all the different stalls. Everything, even the more mundane things like fish stalls, seemed sparkly and new. The pastries were particularly enticing!\n\nShe let go of his arm and walked over to a baker, carefully selecting some sweet bread and a small tart. Returning to Val, she offered him some of the sweet bread he had been eyeing, saying, \"A little indulgent snack to tide us over.\" The tart, however, she kept wholly for herself."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia Lyanah\nTonate Proper\n\nShe had no care for other's feelings, especially when they were evidently uncomfortable. If anything, she enjoyed the atmosphere she was able to create and thrived off the unease brought on by her general appearance. There was some strangeness to the boy that intrigued Cecilia, however she didn't care for when he began turning around to leave while dismissing her. Dropping her gaze towards the bucket he carried, she noticed the worm like creatures squirming against each other within the confined space, peaking her interest further. Rather than leaving him be to his slithering friends, the shifter stepped to his side with the intent to follow him. \n\n\"You're strange. I bet you get told that often.\" When she spoke, her lips tightened into a grin. It was as if she found her own comment humorous. \"Do you collect leeches often? I hear they suck.\" Again, she found herself amusing as she chuckled over the lame pun."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nTonate Proper\n\nHe slowed down as she insisted on talking, and he glanced back, noticing her decision to follow him. He outwardly made a face of annoyance, sighing a little. \"No, I am not told that often. Most of the time people are afraid to speak to me.\" He looked over. \"I wish *You* Were.\" He said. \n\nHe didn't seem phased by the nasty scar around her neck or her gloriously stupid pun. \"I collect the leeches because I was sent to collect the leeches.\" He said stiffly, looking back to the road. He seemed more uncomfortable with her comfort level, as if he just wasn't used to people, especially *Girls*, doing anything other than walking the other direction. \"What do you want?\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia Lyanah\nTonate Proper\n\nHer lips pursed in an attempt to conceal her laughter when he mentioned fear, resulting in a stifled giggle. Not many people were able to install fear in Cecilia and the few who were able had likely shown they were a threat to her existence. The Paladins were a large example. King Bradai wasn't one of them however, instead she saw their attacks towards each other as a game. \n\n\"Why would someone want you to collect leeches? That's just weird.\" She shrugged along with her question, knowing very little about the reasons they were used for. Reaching towards the locks of hair that splayed messily in her face, her fingers swept the strands behind her ears to prevent them from covering her eyes. Her hair annoyed her greatly, and she was tempted to find a blade to cut the locks out of annoyance. \"I don't want anything, I'm just bored and have nothing better to do.\" \n\nDropping her hand, She allowed her arms to dangle by her sides as she continued to follow the boy, occasionally glancing towards the snake who was minding its own business unlike her. Cecilia was tempted to poke it like an annoying child to see if it would attack her if it was disturbed enough. Fortunately for the reptile, the shifter decided against it. \"So where are you heading?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nTonate Proper\n\nPuck was getting a little lore uncomfortable now, turning to look at her with a narrow expression. \"Leeches are used to pull diseases out of blood. Doctors use 'em.\" He said. He then immediately regretted not biting at her face right then! What was wrong with him? Were 50 lashings really enough to tame Puckgordon the beast? He sighed through his nose, shaking his head a little. \n\nThe pretty boy was easily coming to his wit's end with this woman already. And he hated to think it, but she was even a little pretty? In her own way? Puck felt confusion, and he looked off.\n\n\"Oh, where am I headed? It's a lovely little place called *Fuck Off*. Heard of it?\" He said sarcastically. \"My business has nothing to do with you.\" He said a little quieter, justifying his outburst."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia Lyanah\nTonate Proper\n\n\"Interesting.\" In her mind, she thought of it as such an odd thing to do. What human had come up with the idea? She has always seen leeches as pests, even though they kept their distance from her due to the toxicity of her blood, they never failed to latch themselves onto her prey. At times, the shifter would be too focused on her hunger to notice them until the bitter sour taste caught her attention, effectively ruining the taste of the meat. \n\nWhen the boy swore, Cecilia was pulled from her thoughts and rose both brows as she stared towards him. She was obviously getting on his nerves. However, she didn't bother ending the conversation and continued on as if he hadn't lashed out. \n\n\"Fine, don't tell me. I'll find out eventually\" She responded simply as her grin returned, knowing it would be possible for her to track him down by using his scent. Cecilia knew she sounded like a stalker with her comment but couldn't care any less about it. She wasn't seeking friendship. \"How about your name? Is that *Fuck Off* As well?\""
}
] | 197.5 | 1,278 |
214.047619 | 2021-01-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nTonate Proper\n\nPuck was now a little paranoid at the last comment about finding out where he was going. He looked over at her with mild disturbance as he bared his teeth mildly at her very presence. He acted a little more like a beast than a boy, it seemed. Something that Bradai was hoping to quell. \n\nPuck's teeth were gapped and yellowed, a sad difference to his appealing pretty-boy outer shell. He turned back to the road and picked up the pace. As soon as he made it back into Mansion grounds, it would be easy to depart from her. \n\nHopefully.\n\n\"I'd rather not tell you my name.\" He looked over. \"It makes bad things happen,\" He warned, his voice lowering as he sneered at her. \"If you have nothing better to do, go make yourself useful somewhere else. Go fishing or something. I dont know what you islanders even do.\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "**Bastien de Lysse**\n**Streets of Westward Keel**\n\nAs he went in the direction of Maith Mansion, Bastien found himself gazing at the bath houses that lined the streets. The tropical weather had made him perspire more than he would have wanted to admit. It was much warmer here than it was in the North, especially this time of year. Rejoining the group, and greeting King Maith, did not sound appealing if he was to be covered in a coat of shining sweat.\n\n\"Something on your mind, my lord?\" Valmour asked, noticing how Bastien's eyes were straying from the road.\n\nBastien sighed, glancing at his squad of men. His father would most likely have a fit if they were to return without him. \"No.\"\n\nValmour studied his employer with a flat look. Bastien could be a pain when it came to saying what he truly wanted, and thus Valmour had become adept at reading in between the lines. \"You want to go bathe?\" He asked, as if reading Bastien's mind. He smiled. \"I don't see the problem in that.\"\n\nBastien's frown deepened. \"I'm not going to go into a bath house with an entourage,\" He said as he glanced back at the squad of men surrounding him.\n\n\"Then send them back to Maith Mansion with your things, and I'll stay to guard you. We all know that I'm an excellent guardsman, which is why you've put up with me for these past few years.\" He shot Bastien a dazzling smile. \"Unless it was due to my dashing good looks?\"\n\nBastien gave him an annoyed look. \"My father wouldn't be pleased with me not being heavily guarded.\" He was not going to give Valmour the satisfaction of acknowledging his trailing remark.\n\nValmour moved his horse to be closer to Bastien's, lowering his voice so that the other men in the squad couldn't hear him. \"So? He will get over it when you come back unscathed and sparkling clean. You're a grown man and are able to make your own decisions.\" Only due to his close relationship with Bastien could he speak about Lord de Lysse in such a way.\n\n**. . .**\n\nBastien was tempted to argue, but he knew Vamlour was ultimately right. His father had been known to be overly dramatic now and again. Bastien could take care of himself. Besides, he was practically glowing with sweat at this point. \n\n\"Fine,\" He said as he pulled back on the reins, halting his horse. He dismounted, and Valmour followed suit. The men took over their horses and continued to the Pirate King's mansion.\n\n \"Wise choice, my lord,\" Valmour said cheerfully as he clasped a hand on Bastien's shoulder. \"A nice, quiet bath would do you good.\"\n\n———\n\nBastien found himself, instead of relaxing, glowering in the far corner of the bathing area, towel still in place despite him being submerged in water. He glared daggers over at Valmour, who just smiled back in mock innocence. \n\nHe had never been to a bath house in the Isles before, but he knew that Valmour had. Valmour, who had just happened to forget to mention that the baths were *Unisex.* Unisex as well as children splashing around. Bastien could feel numerous eyes on him, and he hated it. He felt extremely out of place, with all of the naked women about. He sunk lower into the warm water until his mouth was barely above it. The architecture was remarkable, as was the tiling. Bastien knew, because these were the only things he kept his gaze on.\n\n\"Something troubling you, my lord?\" Valmour had the audacity to ask as he leaned over to rest his arm on the tile outside of the water, close to Bastien. So smug, so cocky. \"You seem to be a little *Flushed.*\"\n\nBastien turned his eyes from the ornate ceiling to give his guardsman a dangerous look. \"If there were not so many women and children around, I would kill you.\" His eyes narrowed. \"You purposefully did not mention it.\"\n-\n\nValmour shrugged his tanned shoulders, not even pretending to look ashamed. \"Must have slipped my mind,\" He replied. He didn't even bother to ask what \"It\" Was. He knew.\n\n\"Just as it conveniently 'slipped your mind' to grab your funds before the men took off so I would be forced to pay entry for you?\"\n\nValmour put a hand to his tawny chest in mock-hurt. \"Your words wound me, my lord.\"\n\n\"If only.\"\n\n\"You know, if you would relax a little, you might find that it's possible to enjoy yourself,\" Valmour replied as he glanced around. He caught the eye of two women on the other side of the pool drinking wine, and gave them a wave and a charming grin. They glanced at each other, then waved back with a smile. \n\nBastien made a noise of disgust, but it was lost under the water."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Lord Kirk Pinewood\nOutside Maith Mansion**\n\n\"No. *Cough* I can still feel the smoke. *Cough cough* I'd rather walk a bit.\" The tuna that the pirate king had provided for lunch did not make Kirk feel more sick, thankfully. Still, he still didn't feel like he had a clear head after drinking rum on an empty stomach, and he was still coughing after accidentally directly inhaling a puff of cigar smoke while laughing at his own joke. After lunch, Kirk decided to take Dennon's suggestion of going for a walk. Those working for Bradai had offered to give him a carriage ride to wherever he wanted to go, but Kirk felt like he could take deeper breaths by walking instead. He walked alone, though Bradai's men still followed him.\n\nHe traveled several blocks before reaching the Westward Keel, an area of Tonate known for its many bathhouses. As Kirk looked at the outside of the buildings, he became more aware of how dirty he felt, not only from the walk on this hot, sunny afternoon, but also the many days they had spent on a ship getting to the Isles. He reached into his pocket, wondering how much entry might cost before suddenly remembering that he was a guest. Lord Pinewood turned to the men from house Maith that had hesitantly approached to see why he'd stopped walking. \"What are these buildings for?\" Kirk asked curiously, as though it hadn't occurred to him to read the signs.\n** **\n\n\"The bathhouses, my lord. They are a staple of city life here in the Isles.\" The man of house Maith that answered seemed to have fielded this question more than once from a foreign visitor.\n\n\"Oh, really?\" Kirk feigned an expression of wonder at the thought. \"Bathing sounds like such a relaxing idea after all those days at sea. I'm not sure if I have enough...\" He began to feel inside his pockets and pat the outside of his clothes, touching everywhere except where he kept his coin pouch.\n\n\"Consider it a gift from house Maith as thanks for making the journey here.\" The armed mansion worker waved his hand for Kirk to stop looking for money.\n\n\"Islander hospitality really *Is* As great as they say.\" Kirk said before walking toward the one that most caught his eye. \"I see this one sells wine!\"\n\n**. . .**\n\nKirk innocently twiddled his thumbs as his entry was negotiated by the representatives of House Maith with the owners of the bathhouse, but it wasn't until he was let inside naked with a glass of wine that he realized he may have gotten more than he bargained for with his con. The bathhouse was quite busy. It was the day of the festival, so there wasn't the usual evening rush. It seemed that some had chosen the bathhouse as a locale to experience the festivities before the main events began. When some rather young patrons came by, Kirk instinctively grabbed his willy, using his free hand to cover it.\n\n\"Hey, no funny business like that in here,\" Said a fully nude man, who noticed Kirk grabbing himself.\n** **\n\n\"No no no no. You misunderstand.\" Kirk stammered, trying to keep his hand incredibly still so that there would be no confusion about what he was doing. \"I just didn't want to be... Exposed.\"\n\n\"Why, afraid someone will bite it?\" This brought an uproar of laughter from the bathhouse patrons, along with a few murmurs of \"Mainlander...\"\n\nKirk, now quite self-conscious, began to look for an open area by which to get into the water. The most available space was near a man who looked to be in a rather sour mood with a companion who bore a more pleasant expression. The brooding one was still sporting a towel around him even in the water, which made Kirk think he was also not of the Isles. Kirk did his best to approach their section of the pool and entered the water gingerly. \"Busy today, eh?\" Kirk finally muttered aloud, trying to break the ice."
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "**Claude Valmour\nWestward Keel Bath House**\n\nClaude glanced away from the two women to look at the man who was carefully entering the water beside him. He noticed with amusement that the man was covering himself conservatively until he was in the water. \"It seems that way, doesn't it?\" He said, giving the man a friendly smile as he leaned his back against the rim of the pool, resting his elbows casually on the tile as his hands hung half-submerged in the water. He seemed perfectly at ease amongst the naked people about. \"It must be due to the festival.\"\n\nHis dark eyes glanced over at Bastien, seeing if he would interact with the stranger. The scowl from Bastien's face was now gone, replaced with a tense, unreadably numb expression. He was staring rather intensely at the water, his fair cheeks flushed. *Odd.* Claude raised an eyebrow, then looked around the room. He didn't notice it at first, but then saw in the crowd a small group of women staring at Bastien. \n\nOne of them had long, elegantly curled blonde hair. It was the same group of women they had run into earlier to ask for directions to the blacksmith's. Now stark naked a few paces away.\n\nClaude laughed before he could stop himself, and he received a dark look from Bastien because of it. \"Laugh while you still can,\" Bastien hissed. His deep, raspy voice, normally so pleasant and attractive to listen to, sounded extremely menacing.\n\n\"I fully plan to,\" Claude remarked pleasantly, as if his life hadn't just been threatened. \"As well as ordering some liquor. This fine gentleman inspired me with his glass of wine.\"He turned around to wave down a nearby steward. \"I'll take a scotch, if you would be so kind. And-\" He glanced at Bastien. \"Yes? No?\"\n\n***\"No.\"***\n\n**. . .**\n\n*Pity. Bastien is quite fun when he gets tipsy.* He flashed a smile at the attendant. \"Then just the scotch. Thanks, love.\" He turned to the man who had just joined them. \"So, you aren't from around here. Are you?\" Claude kept his expression friendly and inquisitive, though it was painfully obvious that the man was not from the Isles."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk pretended to be more focused on the color of paint on the walls than the quiet, seething exchange happening next to him. Once the drink had been ordered, he answered. \"Indeed I'm not. This is only the second time that I've visited the Isles. You don't sound like you're from around here either.\" He looked at the more sour-faced of the duo. \"You could have my wine if you'd like, scotch can be a bit strong. I just had rum with my lunch, and it didn't occur to me until after I had the glass that wine might be an unwise addition to the mixture.\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Bastien glanced over, realizing that the man was addressing him, and tried to make his expression less murderous. \"Oh. I see.\" He wasn't very much in the mood for drinking, but he knew the man was trying to be kind. Besides, rum and wine did not sound like a good combination. He glanced down to make sure the measly towel around his waist would stay in place, then took the glass. \"I'll repay you for it.\"\n\n\"That's the spirit, my lord,\" Valmour said, earning a squint from Bastien. He was handed his scotch by the attendant and took a sip. \"Mmm. Delicious! But ah, yes, you're right,\" He said with a nod to the man. \"I'm from Ibethiel, and Lord de Lysse-\" He gestured to the white-haired young man holding the wineglass- \"Is from the North.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "Kirk would not remind them of the reimbursement both because the drink was on the house and because it would be rude to ask. However, if they remembered, he was never one to turn down free coin. \"How far North?\" Kirk further inquired if the man who accepted his wine."
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Bastien had taken a sip of the wine, and was surprised how it tasted. It was very good for being served at a bathhouse. \"The Grey Hills. It's in the southern part of Northwind,\" He replied as he took another small sip. The contrast between Lord de Lysse's dainty sips of wine and Claude's swigs of scotch were almost symbolic of their clashing personalities."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"Ah, not as far North as my wife. She's actually from The Witherlands.\" Kirk turned to the scotch-drinking fellow. \"I'm from Ibethiel too. Hexrakes or elsewhere?\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Claude grinned. \"Ah, a fellow Hexrakian,\" He said approvingly. He took another swig of his scotch, then narrowed his eyes as he studied the man. \"What is your name? Perhaps it will ring a bell for me.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"Kirk Pinewood.\" The antiquities dealer answered, forgetting to mention 'Lord' in front of his name, as it was a title he had still been getting used to since his wedding. \"I own an antique shop near the castle. Pineworks, if you've ever been.\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "\"Pineworks,\" Claude repeated. \"Clever name. And a fascinating vocation.\" He shook his head in defeat. \"I don't recall a Kirk Pinewood. I don't suppose you would recall a Claude Valmour?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"I do not, unfortunately, but I'm sure if I had, it would have been all good things.\" Kirk briefly dunked his head under the water to wet down his face and hair. \"If you don't mind me asking, what brought you down to The Southern Isles, or was it only for the festival?\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Bastien made an amused noise when Kirk made the comment that he would have only heard good things about Claude. \"We're here for business,\" He said he put his glass on the tile, his back straightening a bit from its slouched position. He was much taller than he initially appeared. \"Though I suppose the timing with the festival is- convenient.\" He was about to say *Inconvenient*, but he didn't want to be rude. Seeing that Claude was again momentarily distracted by the two women on the other side of the pool, it looked like it was Bastien's turn to carry the conversation. \"Are you and your wife here for business as well? Or pleasure?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"Business, but for a- ...Friend of mine. I came along because I'd been to the Isles before, and it was his first time. I'd hoped to get some pleasure out of it too though.\" Kirk then remembered that his wife had been mentioned. \"And she uh, stayed home. Didn't want the house to get too dusty, know what I mean?\"\n\n\"Do you plan to attend the joust at all, or will you be too busy with business?\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "\"Ah... Yes.\" Bastien could never imagine making his future wife dust things. Who was he kidding, what future wife? \"The tournament going on in Tonate Proper? I've heard it's supposed to be quite the spectacle.\" He took another sip of wine, longer this time. \"I'm hoping to attend, but who knows if I will have the time to.\" He glanced at Kirk with his indigo eyes. \"And you?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"I do, though I may miss the beginning. Most events like this start later than planned anyway. I doubt I'll miss much.\" Kirk thought back to where the non-Ibbish man was from. \"Lord De Lysse, was it? I must admit I lack some knowledge on Northwind politics. Are you the Lord of the Grey Hills themselves?\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "\"You may call me Bastien. And no, I'm not Lord of the Grey Hills yet. That title belongs to my father.\" Speaking of Cyprien, Bastien hoped that he was making a good first impression on the Pirate King. Sometimes he could be oblivious to certain social etiquettes, and would come across as rather pontifical.\n\nBastien's gaze turned from Kirk to Valmour, his eyes narrowed. \"I'd prefer it if you would just go over there and bother them instead of me,\" He said, referring to the two women his guardsman had been constantly sharing flirting glances at.\n\n\"Hmm?\" Valmour blinked as he raised his glass to his lips. \"Oh. Those two?\" He gestured to the women he had been winking at seconds earlier. \"Oof. Gods, no. They're not my type.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"A wise choice, I'd say. In a place like this, I'd hate to offend a woman whose father turned out to be a pirate. Notoriously, they are not the most reasonable chaps.\" Kirk chimed in, only partially joking. \"I've also heard rumblings of a war going on in Northwind. Have the Grey Hills seen much action in it?\""
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "\"Not as of yet,\" Bastien replied with a frown as he swirled the wine in his glass. \"But it seems as though it is inevitable.\" His eyes wandered from his glass to behind Kirk, and he swore under his breath. The woman with the blonde curls from earlier was treading over, and at quite a fast pace. He rapidly downed the rest of his wine, then heaved himself up out of the side of the pool, clutching his soaked towel in one hand and his empty wine glass in the other. \"It was a pleasure meeting you,\" He said quickly, his cheeks slightly flushed. And with that, he sped-walked away to the changing area.\n\nClaude had watched him go with a grin, and then turned to Kirk. \"An interesting character, isn't he?\" He said quietly. Then, louder, he leaned to view the woman with the long blonde curls who stood behind Kirk, a disappointed look prevalent on her face. \"Sorry, love. He's a busy man, I'm afraid.\"\n\nThe woman sighed, crossing her arms over her bare chest as she glanced back at where Bastien had gone before treading back over to her group with a pout.\n\n\"I suppose I should go after him,\" Claude said with a sigh. \"The burden of being a good guardsman.\" He tilted back his glass as he drank the last of his scotch, then gave Kirk a smile. \"It was nice talking to you, *Pineworks*,\" He said with a wink as he lifted himself out of the pool as well. \"You take care now.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "\"Goodbye.\" Kirk said, not correcting the mispronunciation as the two men left abruptly. He then began to scrub himself so that he could consider himself bathed once he left the bathhouse, which also would hopefully give them enough time to leave ahead of him.\n\n**. . .**\n\nOn his way out the door, Kirk was stopped by the owners of the bathhouse. \"I swear I wasn't staring.\" Lord Pinewood explained defensively, but he was mistaken about the intent. The men in the pool had left him some coin for the wine. He had forgotten about it.\n\n\"Thank you, lads.\" Kirk expressed gratitude to the men of house Maith that awaited him outside. \"That was just what I needed.\" He then began the walk back to Maith Mansion, wearing his shirt and pants loosely with his other clothes bundled up other his arm. A change in attire was needed before going to the joust.\n\n**. . .**"
}
] | 97 | 4,495 |
334.666667 | 2021-01-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Front Entrance of the Maith Mansion\n\nThe entrance to the Maith Mansion was a series of grand arches, carved from a softer, cream colored stone, as opposed to the rough red bloodstone that made up the rest of the castle. The facade was ornately detailed, covered in vines both real and carved. Palms and great hedges were underneath them, stretching up to meet and cover the great pillars that made up the supports of the terrace. Many men, women and children that lived in the castle had come out to see them enter. Ladies in waiting tittered as they spied the wealthy Terresolian lord, the name of his noble son on their lips. Castle children of all colors ran in between the pillars, and a few off duty guards were playing Ibbish Sliding Knights on a carved wooden tea table. Although it the path to the castle had taken them through a series of great red gates, from their vantage point on the hill they could see the all of buildings within the great walls of Tonate Proper. The city was alight with festival, the great foremasts of the Maith Navy stood sentinel in the Hangman's Harbor, the Mizzer Market was abuzz with activity, and to the west, the turquoise waters of the Bay of Pearls shimmered under the white hot sun as brightly as if the waters had been made of their namesake.\n\nWhen Silas Asgarov stepped from under the grandest of the arches to receive them, he did so under the shade of a red paper parasol. Instead of removing his hands from the insides of his sleeves, he bowed to greet them. \n\n\"Lord de Lysse.\" Silas took a deep bow. \"I'm sorry to hear that you can into some trouble at the House of Justice. I assure you it will not happen again. We are pleased to have you in our,\" He flashed him a coy glance, \"_humblest_ of homes.\"\n\nHe moved on to receive Fleur, \"And I suppose that _you_ would be Lady Fleur de Lysse. You are as pretty as your namesake. I'm sure you'll fit right in here. Please do send your handmaidens to me. We will find them anything they lack in their time here.\"\n\nWhen Silas got to Calypso Kolgrim, he paused, looked her up, then down, and considered her softly. \"I'm... Sorry.\" He sucked in his painted lips as he looked her over. \"And who might you be?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nMaith grounds\n\nAnd jogging in the background, Puck entered the grounds, seeing the Seneschal. And then the several people that seemed fancy. He slowed down, narrowing his eyes a little, before deciding that maybe he shouldn't greet noble strangers whilst holding a bucket of writhing leeches and a snake wrapped around his neck.\n\nAfter escaping that woman back there, Puck was already paranoid and uncomfortable. He's rather not deal with that yet.\n\nHe ran past, to go get changed and drop off leeches."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim\nThe Front Entrance of the Maith Mansion\n\nFinally, after such a long wait and turmoil, the group of northerners was allowed inside of the castle. If it wasn't for the incapacity of Lord De Lysse of just lower his head to save everyone time, they would have been admitted far earlier. \nBut enough of that. Calypso made sure to keep her head high and back straight as they entered past the great archers, the red skirt of her dress waving with each step. Her eyes unable to look away from the grandiosity of the structure, but soon enough a crowd of people welcomed them and she went back looking straight ahead. Fortunately, none of the glances that were thrown their way seemed to held any dislike towards them, despite the terrible name Calypso was sure that the head of the house had procured them.\n\nA man stood in front of them, parting from the crowd. Calypso couldn't place his age, he could have been 20 like 40, and she couldn't understand if she finds it endearing or alienating.\nBut surely she didn't expect him to speak directly to the her. Something in the way he scanned her figure made her feel the need to step away and cover herself, but she didn't move, holding her stance as she reciprocate his stare with her dark eyes, allowing a small smile on to slip on her lips before taking her skirt in both her hands and bow elegantly \"Lady Calypso Kolgrim, my lord. I'm her Grace Lady Fleur's Lady-In-Waiting.\" She spoke kindly, but hoped that Lord De Lysse would hear her, and remember to not call her a maid again. \"It is a pleasure to meet you.\""
}
] | 365 | 1,004 |
321.461538 | 2021-01-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nThe Front Entrance of the Maith Mansion\n\nMuch like her amazement of the colorful houses outside, the mansion proved to be no difference to Fleur. Her eyes followed the vines across the arches, her head instead tilted up than looking to where she should have been walking. Though, soon enough the people gathering and the children running around drew her attention, and she let go of the stiffness that she similarly shared with her father to give them a small smile and a wave. The way the sun filtered into the building gave it a gentle glow, something not really noticed within the keep. Fleur found these weather to be delightful, though a tad bit too warm. She didn't complain much, however, as she got off a slightly bit luckier than older woman as she was still quite seen as a child- her fragile and dainty look sometimes portraying her as younger than she was. Because of this, the requirements for layers of dress were slightly less, providing a bit of a cooler temperature for her.\n\nHer attention moved to the man who had approached the group to greet them, the soft smile that had been on her lips the majority of the trip remaining upon them. The girl curtsied gently at his bow in respect, tilting her head down slightly, trying to remember her manners. However, when she was addressed her smile grew.\n\n\"Thank you.\" Fleur acknowledged softly, a light tint of red finding its self to her cheeks. It was the first time she had to really interact with so many people at once, so she was extremely aware of her mannerisms and slightly fearing the thought of failure. The girl fell quiet once again as Calypso was addressed, folding her hands lightly together in front of her as her eyes continued to grace around the room, though her ears had stayed focused upon the conversation beside her."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cyprien de Lysse\nThe Maith Mansion\n\nLord De Lysse foud himself enjoying Asgarov's company far more than he could've expected The seneschal was everthing the 'other' islanders were not: austere, polite, refined... It reminded Cyprien of why he preferred to spend his days locked in the Keep Sempiternal instead of down in the fields, among the shitblood masses, like Bastien did.\n\n\"I assume the king is either expecting us, or awaiting to make a grand reveal at the party.\" He said to Silas. \"If he is waiting for us, I would hate to keep him waiting any longer, but if he doesn't plan on meeting his guests immediately, then I'd like for us to be shown our rooms. My daugther in particular has frail health and requires special attention.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Front Entrance of the Maith Mansion\n\nHe nodded at that, and smiled softly. He removed a ringed hand from the folds of his flowing blue robes, reaching out to take her hand in his. It was a well-maintained hand, perfumed and powered, with porcelain skin as smooth and soft as silk. Although the grasp was delicate, there was a wiry vigor in it. He deftly turned her hands over in his fingers and ran his thumb over the mounts of her hands. \n\n\"Hmph.\" His sigh was short and quick, running his fingers down her creases of her palm. Just as quickly as he took her hand, he let it go, his hand darting back into his sleeve like a snake back into it's den. \"It seems to me that you will not have to wait long, Lady Kolgrim. You are an exquisite thing, and of so many...\" A small smile crept across his lips, \"So many _different_ talents, no?\" \n\nHe bowed deeply to her and when he rose, the smile was gone, replaced with the complacent grin that went with being the master of the house. \"The pleasure is all mine, I can assure you of that.\" \n\nWhen the Lord began to speak, Silas nodded. \"Although there _will_ be a grand entrance, it will not be a reveal. I am hoping that we can get you all situated in your quarters and off to the joust as quickly as possible. It is to begin at midday but...\" Silas, \"I suppose it will truly start when the King gets there. He is currently treating with the King of Ibethiel, and that they have invited you to their box in the Mizzen.\" \n\nSilas turned on a heel and waved them all into the Maith Mansion. \"I trust you will not reject their invitation, my lord?\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cyprien de Lysse - Maith Manor\n\n\"We will be honoured to attend their... Box in the Mizzen,\" Replied Cyprien. \n\nHe did so hesitantly. Silas could feel a hint of impatience in his voice. Or was it frustration? In any case, the lord didn't seem to be fully at ease, even amidst the jovial athmosphere of the festival.\n\n\"Though, I must admit. I'm having a hard time finding my way in the labyrinthite streets of this city. Just getting here in the first place was already it's own epic.\""
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim\nThe Front Entrance of the Maith Mansion\n\nDespite the kind smile, there was something in the glimmer of Lord Silas' eyes that reminded Calypso of a viper about to strike his prey, and the smooth feeling of the skin of his hand user her fingers only contributed to that image in her mind. Wondering what he could see in her hand.\n\nBut if the seneschal thought of her as a helpless mouse, then he would found himself in the wrong.\n\nAt the double-sided comment on her \" Talents\" Calypso let a simple smile on her lips \" Oh, you are too kind my lord.\" Said her softly, but there was something sharp behind her eyes."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Silas Asgarov\nThe Maith Mansion\n\n\"You will find,\" Silas began, \"That our streets are colored. Red, blue and green streak the the entire city, so you'll always be able to find your way from north to south. I think you'll come to find that the Redwall District is the most easily navigable, and for the purposes of your family, I recommend you keep to there. Although our city is quite beautiful, you are right to say that the rest of it is quite...\" He gave a sharp, silent laugh. \"_hectic._\" \n\n\"I remember when I came from Azarya.\" As they moved into the shade of the Maith Mansion, the servant that had been holding the parasol closed it and promptly retreated from the party. In any other country, the Maith Mansion would have been a dark and damp place, but in the Southern Isles, where the sun grew so large and oppressive, the thick stone walls provided shade enough to stay cool even in the heat of the midday. A gentle sea-breeze came in over the carved stone bannisters, waving the fronds of the many potted palms strewn about their checkered marble walkway. Thick beams of light shown down from the tall sloping archways, and the Seneschal seemed to waltz around them as he spoke. \"It was difficult, finding my way around a city like this. In time, though, you'll find it simple enough. But until that time arrives, I'll have some of my hands provide you with maps.\" \n\nWhen they stepped into the winter gardens, a large circular room that looked more like a greenhouse than a grand atrium, there were a series of servants ready to show them to their quarters. Great palm trees arched high into the air, and beneath them were rows of neatly planted poppy flowers of all colors and sizes. All of them were standing side by side, dressed neatly in the colors of House Maith. Light shown down from the great glass dome above them, and from out of the shadows, the boy reappeared, opening the paper parasol and holding it over the Seneschal.\n\n\"I do not mean to rush you all, but we should be getting to the Mizzen. I would be happy to give you all the grand tour afterwords. It is to be _quite_ the event.\" He smiled, bowed, and allowed them to be shown to their quarters."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nThe Maith Mansion\n\nOnce the door of her room was closed behind her and all the servants have left, Calypso let out a small sigh. But it wasn't time for her to relax yet.\nQuickly, the Lady made a round down of her room, checking behind the mirror on the wall , the small tapestry, and the bottom of the wardrobe, making sure that there weren't holes or passages between the walls. Her room was right next to Fleur, she will have to find an excuse to examine the girl's room. Some may consider this paranoia, but Lady Kolgrim had heard too many stories of girls finding holes in their room during a visit to an unknown location. She had done the same exact thing when arrived at The Keep. It wasn't like she didn't trust King Bardai or Silas... No she definitely didn't trust Silas.\n\nBut she didn't have time to check the entire room, for now, so she decided to risk it and change anyway to something more suited to meet a king and also far less layered. \nOnce she was done, Lady Kolgrim stepped out of her room, wearing an emerald green tunic with long bell sleeves, cinched at the waist by a golden chain wrapped around tree time. \nShe quickly closed the door behind her and then went to knock at Lady Fleur's door. \"Your Grace? May I enter?\" Asked her, while glancing over the railing. The city in all its glory protracting in front of her eyes."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Kirk Pinewood\nKirk's Quarters, Maith Mansion**\n\nUpon returning from the bathhouse, Kirk went to his room at Maith Mansion to change in to a more festive, fresh set of clothes for the joust. \"An-\" He cut himself off, remembering Anna's alias. \"Braylena?\" He called out, seeing if the \"Maid\" Was around. \"Anyone here?\" A few steps in, he noticed a dress crumpled up on the floor in a puddle of water. He leaned down to pick it up and realized it was the same dress Anna had been wearing earlier that day. Kirk thought back to how hot Anna, a lady who had spent her whole life in The Witherlands, had said it felt when they arrived on the docks of Tonate. \"No. No...\" He fell on his rear and began to crawl backwards away from it. \"Oh, gods no!\"\n\n\"Hello, Kirk.\" Anna said, walking in from the balcony wearing a new dress. \"I thought I'd do some laundry. I dropped this one on the way to hang everything up. Hey, what are you doing on the floor?\" She looked at Kirk, who was still shaking, and down to her wet dress on the floor. \"Did... Did you think I melted?\"\n** **\n\n\"No... That would be... Ridiculous.\" He stammered unconvincingly as he began to pull himself to his feet with thoughts of what Lucrezia would do to him for letting her meal ticket liquify still racing through his head.\n\n\"I'm from the North. I'm not literally *Made of ice!*\"\n\n\"Just ignore me.\" He muttered, walking shamefully to his luggage. \"I'm just going to get a new change of clothes for the joust.\"\n\n\"A joust?\" Anna asked. \"That sounds fun.\"\n\n\"I'd invite you, but we'll be sitting with Bradai. Most of the Islanders probably don't remember what you look like, but *He* Probably would.\"\n\n\"I suppose you're right. I guess I'll just wait here then, doing 'maid' things.\"\n\n\"Interesting.\" Kirk said, more focused on what he was doing than the conversation.\n\n\"Perhaps I'll entertain the men who keep looking up at our balcony.\"\n\nKirk looked at himself in the mirror, getting pretty for their host. \"They're probably spies.\"\n\n\"What?!\" Anna asked, looking at the balcony door nervously.\n\n\"Have fun!\" Kirk said cheerfully before leaving the room.\n\n**. . .**"
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Snæch with a Snake\nPuck's Personal Quarters\n\nPuck was about as ready as he could be. Leeches were dropped off efficiently to one of Silas' pretty helpers, and he and his new scaly friend went back to his room to change into something more fitting and wash up. The last thing he needed was for Silas to yell at or beat him for being unpresentable to any degree. \n\nHe silently cursed himself as he slipped on an airy blue tunic, going to the washroom to wash his face and comb back his hair. He wasn't against grooming, he usually didn't because he just didn't feel the need to impress anyone. Everyone already hated him anyway. But now, he had to be nice and clean for someone else. \n\nThat bastard. Why would Puck listen to him, after all this time of rebelling? What sway did Silas seem to hold? Why? How? Puck wasn't sure. Maybe he cursed Puck with magic to be his thrall. He ran his fingers through his hair, wetting it down a little so it could be combed back into a clean look, although when it dried, a few strands fell over his brow. He adjusted his laces and fixed his collar, grimacing as he rolled his shoulders back to make sure his scabbed back wasn't sticking to the shirt at all. \n\nHe looked over at his bed where the snake had taken a liking, coiled up in the covers. He sat down on the bed carefully, picking up the coiled reptile and holding it up to look in its eyes.\n\n\"Alright, this is what will happen. I can't let you out in the gardens, because then one of those stupid princesses will scream and cry, and you'll be annoyed before death.\" He smirked at his own words, laying forward on his stomach as the snake flicked its tongue against Puck's nose. \n\n\"We could keep you here, but his majesty keeps these grounds so clean, you couldn't find a mouse to eat.\" He sighed reaching up with his other hand to smoothly rub the top of the snake's head.\n\n-\n\"And now I'm afraid if the Seneschal finds you he'll hurt you and me for not doing as I was told...\" He grumbled. \"But I like you, and I want to keep you, because you're pretty, and you're the only one that I can talk to without... Anger. Or feeling... Afraid. Don't tell the bastards I'm scared of them...\" He scoffed a little. \"They think I'd cry and go soft. But you already know what a snake does when it gets frightened.\"\n\nPuck kissed the top of the snake's head. \"It *Bites*.\""
},
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nThe Maith Mansion\n\nFleur was happy to finally be within the cool walls of her room, the break from the heat quite refreshing, as well as from her hair pins. Pulling them from her silver hair, she let it cascade down in ringlets, though she knew there wasn't much time and soon enough she would have to fix it back up again. She could ask Calypso to help once again, although the older woman had set the pins within her hair originally and would probably not be quite happy that she let them out. Fleur left a few in, half of her hair staying up as she combed her fingers through the curly pieces- maybe this would be good enough to go out in anyhow. Taking in a deep breath, Fleur took a moment to admire the large living space. It was tidy and kept- much unlike her one at home. She wondered if the large mansion held it's own library. For once, she did not have to rely on Bastien bringing her a new book home.\n\n\"Oh, of course you may!\" The girl called out towards the door, fiddling with her hair once again, before finding it no use. She never was one to keep her hair too neat.\n\nFleur's violet eyes turned to the door as it was opened, a soft smile returning to her lips.\n\n\"You look lovely, Lady Calypso. Though, now you are making me think I must change as well.\" Fleur complimented, moving towards her trunk to find a different dress."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nThe Maith Mansion\n\nCalypso entered the room her eyes darting around for a moment, her room was much bigger as she had expected. \nShe smiled back at the girl when Fleur complimented her. She was about to do the same when she noticed that the young lady had completely undone the hairstyle she had spent quite a while on when they were on the ship \"Aw why did you undone it? We don't have the time to make it again!\" Scolded Calypso shaking her head, but her tone lacked any real anger. \"Some light decorations will do the trick, You are way too pretty for people to pay attention at how properly are styled your hair.\" Commented her .\n\nShe imitated Fleur searching for a dress in which to change her, but really Calypso started observing more clearly the surroundings... Gods there were way too many decorations to actually see anything \"I suggest you wear something light and bring a fan too.\" Recommended her. Before she could realize it, she actually had a dress in her hands, the material feeling pretty light but still sufficiently thick to not need any additional undergarments to be worn. \"What about this one?\" Asked her holding it up so that the young lady could see."
},
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nThe Maith Mansion\n\n\"I'm not very used to having my hair up- so it was hurting my head a little bit.\" Fleur admitted apologetically, though she did find the hairstyle lovely.\n\nFleur pulled through the dresses, careful as not to wrinkle them.\n\n\"What do you think Bastien is up to right now? I sure do hope we see him at the joust.\" Fleur sighed slightly. It was the first time she was ever able to go on an adventure with her brother, and he wasn't even around.\n\nFleur's eyes shifted to the dress Calypso had pulled out, her hand moving to brush over the silk. She seemed to think for a moment, before nodding in agreement, folding a few of the dresses they had pulled out neatly within the trunk before lightly taking the dress, moving toward the bed to place it gently, smoothing a few of the wrinkles.\n\n\"It's perfect.\" Fleur smiles at the other woman, her eyes shifting back to the dress."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim \nThe Maith Mansion\n\nThe change was quick. Calypso tried to stand in front of Fleur, but she didn't know from which of the walls she was supposed to actually protect her from. \n\nCalypso chuckled \"Knowing him, Lord Bastien is probably doing his best to free himself as soon as possible to come back here for you my lady,\" Said her trying to comfort Lady Fleur. Calypso didn't have siblings, so she couldn't really understand their relationship, but it was clear that the two cared deeply for each other.\n\nThe dress fitted her perfectly, the color valorizing her features \" One last touch!\" Said Calypso and took a hair comb from the jewelry box and fixed it in her hand, making it so that it would hold a small section of her hair that Calypso had managed to shape like a small rose. \"Perfect.\" \n\n\"Come on, now your Grace, your father is probably waiting for us.\" Said her opening the door and letting the girl walk out before her. Before closing the door, Calypso gave a last cold glance at the room. She had a bad feeling running up her spine but she hides it behind a kind smile as she faced the young lady again, closing the door."
}
] | 316 | 4,179 |
544.5 | 2021-01-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse - The Maith Mansion**\n\nAsgarov had not lied. The chambers were certainly fitting for Lordsblood. They were arguably more than he deserved, since they had been arranged for kings and queens of foreign lands. Lavish and exotic in their own right: Cyprien wondered if the baths would be the same. He had heard tales of communal pools, where nude men and women alike indulged in massive orgies. More Araedian lies probably. He should stop holding onto his assumptions if he didn't want to offend the King of the Isles. His support was vital, and Cyprien could not risk losing it over some cultural misunderstanding.\n\nIt was for this reason that he stood ready to depart for the Mizzen as soon as he could, even if he would have preferred to stay in the luxurious chambers. He waited until both his daughter and the senechal were present before adressing Asgarov:\n\n\"We are ready to depart,\" He told Silas."
},
{
"author": "cattoebeans",
"message": "Claude Valmour\nThe Maith Mansion\n\nClaude let out a low whistle as he was escorted into the Maith home. It was so vibrant and lively. Extremely fancy. Lots of pretty girls. It seemed like it would be a fun place to stay at, after all. Not the stuffy, regal setting he had originally been thinking of. *The Pirate King has taste, I'll give him that.*\n\nAfter a decent bit of walking, the servant directed Claude to where Cyprien's guards were. He thanked the servant, and then smoothly placed himself by the squad of men. \"Hello, gents,\" He whispered with a charming smile, not wanting to disrupt the conversation of Lord de Lysse. \"Miss me?\"\n\n\"Hardly,\" Replied the man he was next to. But Claude saw the crooked smile on his face. Claude had already succeeded in charming Cyprien's hired squad of men while they were on the boat together.\n\nClaude glanced over to see Lord de Lysse, Fleur, and Fleur's new lady-in-waiting talking to probably the most thoroughly-groomed man Claude had even laid eyes on. He listened in on what was being said."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Maith Mansion\n\nAgainst Puckgordon's better judgment (he didn't have a lot of common sense), his new little friend came with him, like a darling neckpiece that made him look more exotic than he already seemed thanks to his Melsi complexion. He had changed into a teal and black surcoat that fit snugly and comfortably, and he already dreaded working in the heat with it on, but he didn't push his luck toward anything to do with the King or the Seneschal.\n\nHe seemed like a proper Lord now, as funny as it sounded, but with his hair combed back and his shirt tucked in, his pretty-boy features really spoke volumes. He hardly seemed like a beast at all, even with the snake coiling itself loosely around his collar. He just looked... Well, *Good*.\n\nIt made him uncomfortable. He felt people staring for a different reason. He knew he didn't look awful, or at least he hoped, he really tried to put himself together after all. The nausea was still present in the pit of his stomach, and his nerves felt like frayed threads whenever he saw someone coming around a corner, but he eventually found Silas... Talking to fancy people again. He instantly stopped, looking back down the hall before creeping forward, leaning against a wall and waiting respectfully for them to be done. He reached up and gently brushed his fingertips against the scales of his friend, staring at the floor."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King and The Seneschal\nThe King's Solar\n\nHe pinched the end of his reading glasses between his thumb and forefinger, picking them off of his nose and whipping them to the letter on his desk. The thin gold chain around his neck caught them, and it briefly grew taught as it sent the small circular lenses down to his chest. \n\n\"Vhey're fucking...\" Bradai grunted, picking up the paper to reexamine it with his eyes, squinting as he brought it close to his face. \n\n_The Magistrate has left Taemar and proceeded to the countryside. The area was sparse. People would see me. I can no longer follow her. I will head to the capitol to treat with the garrison force. There is no sign of Queen Charity Lane._\n\nThe Pirate King crumpled the parchment in his fist, twisting his face into a deep frown. He threw it onto the desk and placed his hand against his face. All he felt was the cold shanks of the rings that shackled his hand. All at once, he grit his teeth and slammed his fist onto the table. \n\n\"GODS _DAMNIT!_\" He shouted, \"Tha bitch is going. She's going to—\" He picked up the ball of parchment and held it above his head. It was gently plucked from his fist, and the letter was unraveled with deft fingers, so that the script could be read.\n\n\"It would appear,\" Silas began, \"That your Wisdom will soon be headed to Sol to—\"\n\n\"I know!\" Bradai shouted. \"I know. I know what she plans to do wiff 'im.\" It had to be a man. Carney would never accept the throne. Caspian and Castor were dead, as far as anyone was aware. \n\n\"A bastard?\" Silas asked, rounding around the side of his husband. For an instant, he contemplated putting his hands onto his shoulders.\n\n\"Yes.\" Bradai grit his teeth and stood. \"Make sure vhat Caderyn will make 'is speech today. At tha joust.\" \n\nSilas moved to speak, but closed his mouth. There was something deep inside him that wanted to go to war. The Isles had engaged in small conflicts in Amoroth, where the longevity of their Kingdom was of no consequence. The Xandrians were not in the position to cross to sea. Not now, and not when Ilona was to take the throne. There was something about it that had set a fire deep in the pit of his stomach. It was something about his King killing their men. Spilling them open. _The sweet stench of death,_ he thought. \n\n\"This is...\" Silas stepped forward and nodded slowly, \"Surely you do not expect to go, what with all of this...\" He looked at Bradai's ringless fourth finger. The battered mess on office carpet had set his chest to fluttering. He stepped closer, moving to put his hands in their rightful place. He wanted to soothe him so badly so that he began to consider the King's words. \"We can not wage war if—\" \n\n\"I'm not. Ilona will be vhere. She will 'andle it. I was going to 'ide her, but I can simply shift 'er to a position of power, beside Caderyn and my Admira—\" \n\nSilas interjected. He had only spoken for a second. Not even a word. A prolonged noise, the weakest protest.\n\n\"She is a WOMAN!\" Bradai Maith shouted, every word a knife. \"I 'ave grown tired of waiting! Sending 'er...\" He threw a hand up in rage, \"Galavanting across Marin to discover what it means to be a Shitblood while I protect 'er all the while! I am tired! She is my HEIR!\" \n\nThere was a moment in which the both of them knew what was to come next. Silas looked at the ground then, and Bradai looked directly at him, his dull grey eyes boring deep into the Mage. \"Say it.\" He said. \"Say it, Silas.\" \n\n\"What if?\" Silas posed the question so lightly it had almost seemed a courtesy. \"War is... Dangerous.\" \n\n\"Vhen we will find anuvher.\" Bradai placed his hands upon his desk, palms down onto the stacks of cool parchment. He let his fingers move them apart, closing his eyes and sighing. \"My heir does not die in battle. She will not be captured.\"\n\n\"Because she would rather die!\" Silas' hands began to shake, open, pleading. \n\n\"My heir does not die in battle.\" Bradai repeated. \"Vhere are uvhers. You know vhis. My company could assume control. I will not 'ave my 'opes pinned upon one girl 'oo will never sit my chair wiff dignity. She will win and win the respect uff my people, or she will die and I will choose anuvher. Any man 'oo captures 'er will ransom 'er for everyfing I've built. If she is truly mine, she will figure—\"\n\nBradai rose sharply from his seat, the chair flying out from under his legs. When he straightened them, they struck so hard against the seat of the chair that it sent it crashing to the ground, tipping over onto its side. The Pirate King's mouth was pursed hard behind his curled beard. _\"ENOUGH!\"_ He shouted. \n\nSilas flinched and recoiled, his feet catching on themselves. His lunged began to fail him, and his voice came out in a whisper. \"But she is—\" She began, and although he had talked so silently the King had seemed to hear it in perfect clarity\n\n\"I AM SURROUNDED BY SNAKES AND FUCKING MORONS!\" He bellowed. His arms hung heavily at his sides, seemingly pulled by the weight of his rings. \"A nest of well blooded, affected, suckling fucks! And at my teat! I beat my WIFE!\" He shouted the last word, thrusting his fist into the air. \"Which one of vhem knew what to do today? When vhey came in and saw? Which one, Silas?! Who?!\"\n\n\"None.\" Silas said. \"None of them knew. Only you. You told them what to do.\" \n\nThe Pirate King turned to the Seneschal and laughed, although there was no mirth in it. \"Well.\" He puffed out a laugh, \"Vhat's it.\" He raised a hand and pointed a finger. \"We are going to war.\" Bradai began to purse his lips and shake his head. He turned his finger inwards, to press against his chest. \n\n\"_She will win. We will win,_\""
}
] | 276.5 | 2,178 |
246.333333 | 2021-01-31 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "definitelyaworm",
"message": "Fleur De Lysse\nThe Maith Mansion\n\n\"Well I sure hope he does. I mean... Even if he doesn't, he did make me promise him a dance at the ball.\" Fleur sighed, shrugging her shoulders lightly, making sure the dress was tightened enough to not fall but loose enough to be able to breathe properly, especially given the heat.\n\nFleur nodded in a gentle thanks as the other lady held the door open for her, making her way down the hallway to where they were meeting her father.\n\nSoon enough, the young lady and Calypso made their way into the room, making their way towards the slightly odd man they had met earlier. Though he seemed a bit eccentric for her families taste, Fleur quite liked him. \n\nRocking back and forth on her toes, Fleur looked around excitedly- she was happy to be getting back into the lovely city again. It felt like there was a whole new adventure starting. It was then that the girl spied a boy waiting at the other end of the hall, her head tilting questionably at the snake perched over his shoulders. It was an odd decoration, but Fleur couldn't but help to smile. She always had an affinity towards all creatures. The man held the same peculiar taste as the one speaking in front of them."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun \nTonate Proper\n\nValkrin smiled softly. \"Is it to your liking, Catarina?\" He asked, drawing close to her and taking a piece of the bread. He tore a small piece of it off, and pulled it up to his nose and took a sniff. \n\n\"Baked this morning, it would seem.\" He said, placing it in his mouth and looking over at her. \"Though, it is not the sweetest thing here..\" He said, a smirk threatening to stretch the corners of his mouth. \"Obviously that would be me.\" He said, turning to taste a piece of one of the pies. \n\nThe odd pair circled the carts for nearly an hour, tasting bits and pieces of nearly everything. It was the most relaxed Valkrin had been in days, but also the most wound up. He couldn't shake the feeling growing in his stomach. It was like every shadow in the entire courtyard had found its way into his stomach and thickened itself. \n\n\"I should get going. Bradai will not tolerate any sort of tardiness.\" He said, pausing for a brief moment to straighten his back. \"However, should you wish to join me, we would have to hurry to get there before he decides to leave early. We have to be presentable so we need to go ahead and leave.\" He said, glancing at her and turning to leave."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nTonate Proper\n\nShe hesitated a moment, pondering his offer. It had been a long time since she had rubbed shoulders with the upper class. The food they had eaten! And the home she had enjoyed and all of its luxuries! Was Mireli enjoying those luxuries now? She hoped so...\n\nA slight frown clouded her face, the worry and fear of a mother taking over her. If she could have, she never would have left her daughter behind. \n\nPushing those thoughts aside, she followed him out of the square, replying, \"Of course. I'm already mostly ready, honestly.\" This was her chance! Perhaps something good would come of this. If nothing else, perhaps she could work her way up into a better position for herself. One where she wasn't so dependent on the wills of men."
}
] | 270 | 739 |
274 | 2021-02-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse - The road to the Mizzen**\n\nThe senechal had seem fit to arrange a charriage for them. Cyprien went first, followed by his daughter and the dour woman that served as her aide. Bastien was absent.\n\n\"We'll have to go without him,\" He told his captain. \"If he gets to the mansion, tell him where we are.\"\n\n\"Aye, lord.\"\n\nThe chauffeur whipped his horses, and Cyprien made himslef comfortable. Or in any case, he tried to. The carriage stopped not long after they began to move.\n\n\"What's this, another roadblock?\"\n\n\"No lord,\"Answered the chauffeur. \"We have arrived. \"\n\nOne road. That's how far the stadium was from the castle. _'The king must love his spectacles'_, thought Cyprien.\nThe small retinue of House de Lysse made it's way to the observation box of the stadium. The stadium reminded Cyprien of the ancient ruins of the Sun Gate. The color and style were entirely different, but the architectural layout bore many similarities. Curious. Was the stadium an ancient building? Or perhaps the architectural paradigms of the old days had endured in the Isles when the mainland forgot them?\n\nIn any case, now was hardly the time to worry about it. It was time to meet the king of the Isles."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby, Kirk Pinewood\nOutside Maith Mansion**\n\nDennon stared at the carriage waiting for him at the front of Maith Mansion. It was draped in the regalia of house Scheer. The sight made him nostalgically think back to the plague, and the lack of pomp and circumstance that came with it. \"A bit gaudy, isn't it?\" Dennon joked to the driver.\n\n\"Do you not like it?\" The driver asked, crestfallen with a hint of fear.\n\n\"Oh, I do. I do.\" He said quickly after forgetting the sway his position had on other people. \"It's was just a... Forget I said anything. Let's go.\" Embarrassed, Dennon climbed in the carriage.\n\n**. . .**\n\n*\"King Dennon of Ibethiel!\"* A voice announced as Dennon's carriage arrived at the Mizzen, Tonate's main arena, where the joust was meant to be held. A few people cheered as he exited the carriage. The king waved to them.\n\n\"I like mountains too!\" A woman yelled, trying to impress him and get his attention.\n\nStanding in Dennon's path was Kirk, who was posed in an awkward stance. \"Are you lost?\"\n\n\"No. I'm just letting the artists here today get a good long view so that I can be recognized in the future portraits.\" Kirk mumbled, not looking at him.\n\n\"How long have you been standing here?\"\n\n\"My legs are starting to hurt...\"\n\n\"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier-\"\n\n\"No, I should be sorry. It was not appropriate to say what I did at the time I did. I hope I didn't ruin things with Bradai.\"\n\n\"You didn't. We had a nice chat after you left. Then we parted ways to get ready for the joust. He was probably more amused than anything.\"\n\n\"That's a relief. After I left, I went to a bathhouse.\"\n\nDennon looked at him with shock. \"But... Anna.\"\n\n\"Not *That* Kind of bathhouse.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, you look cleaner. Why don't we head inside? I don't think Bradai is here yet, and I don't want to sit alone.\"\n\n\"Fine by me.\" Kirk agreed, relaxing as they both began to walk to the entrance. \"Ooooh. Is that woman selling jerky?!\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon had entered through a back area, where servants would enter, keeping his new friend safe around his neck. He set his friend in a barrel that was not used for anything and straightened his hair.\n\nA one-eared bastard could be seen sitting in one of the horse stalls, moping around with a big nasty bandage on his head. \n\nThis brought a smile to Puck's face, and he ran his hands down his surcoat. Walking past the stall, he slowed, giving the bastard a clever look.\n\n\"Let me know if you want to get it evened out... I'm always hungry... Hehe.\" The devilishly handsome young lad kept on a smirk as the bastard stared on with distaste and unease."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nTonate Proper\n\nValkrin yawned. \"Sure you were.\" He said, leading her out of the doorway. The bright sun was refreshing, and the silence was amazing. Little words passed between the pair as they walked towards the beautiful carriage awaiting their arrival. \n\n\"Of course.\" He answered as he was asked if their destination was Bradai's mansion. \"Where else would I be going?\" He remarked, rolling his eyes. He glanced over at Catarina and offered his hand to her. \n\n\"Ladies first.\" He said, smiling. As soon as she was inside he climbed in after her, and they immediately began riding towards Bradai's manor. Valkrin rubbed his temples. The marks always seemed to bother him before he went to see Maíth."
}
] | 228 | 1,096 |
341.846154 | 2021-02-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Earl Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n Ferdinand had never actually been to the Southern Isles, which was quite ironic, because they were responsible for much of his business. It was common for the unmarked packages that he so generously transported across his lands to have started their journey right here in the Isles. That was mostly why he was here, of course, business. Not that he didn't like a good festival, but if he wanted to get drunk and feast, then he wouldn't take a week long voyage to do it. But he couldn't find a collection of influential, connected folk hanging around in Astorian villages. Perhaps if he played his cards right, this festival could be very profitable for him. \nHis guard was escorting him to the seats where the nobility could view the jousting match, and afterwards, the duels. He had paid a pretty penny to ensure he got a seat near King Bradi Maith, after all, if he wanted to increase his particular brand of 'trade' with the Southern Isles, then he had to talk to the man in charge, the Hangman's Harbor was proof that doing things any other way was a bad idea. Many of his men had been here before, some were even born on these isles, and they knew the best paths to take, and which ones to avoid.\nOf course, with Carac at his side, he wasn't worried about any attacks from street toughs or assassins. The Butcher, standing a head taller than anyone else in the street, was an intimidating sight in his full plate armor, the sword at his side, custom made by the finest smiths Ferdinand could find, was perfectly fitted for his immense size. He would be participating in the duels at the festival, and hopefully would win Ferdinand both glory and coin.\n\nCarac The Butcher, terror of Feyshore, slayer of shifters, Monster of the North, Reaper of the South, was enjoying himself from beneath the thick steel plate of his helm. He didn't show it, of course, but he had to admit, the festival was impressive. The celebration in the streets, the cheers from the people as they looked upon their King, it was all very... Festive. Normally he wouldn't care much for these displays, but this time it was different, because at the end of it he might get to kill someone. Oh, he assumed that these duels were a non-lethal sort of thing, but he had a bad habit of hitting his opponents just a little too hard, and was he to blame if these noble-born fools couldn't take a hit? That's what he hated about these 'noble' knights, pampered things that they were, they couldn't take a blow for shit. Put them in real combat with someone on equal footing, and they froze up, then died quickly after, from his experience. \nOf course, Ferdinand had told him not to 'make a scene' here, whatever he meant by that. Ferdinand, for all his craftiness, didn't understand this place. This was a kingdom built by pirates, built on blood and steel, they wouldn't mind a little more at a festival.\n\n\"Carac! Are you listening?!\" \n\nCarac's thoughts were interrupted by Ferdinand's exclamation. He turned to face his employer, looking down at the rotund man.\n\n\"Carac, I'm trying to tell you about the duels, were you listening, do you understand the rules?\"\n\nCarac didn't make a sound, he rarely did, he just slowly nodded his helm.\n\n\"Good, well, the King of the Isles will be watching you, so try to put on a show, eh?\"\nFerdinand grinned at him, patting him on the back, something he had to stretch to do.\n\n\"You can count on it.\" Carac spoke, his raspy, metallic voice sending shivers up Ferdinand's spine involuntarily. Hiring The Butcher as a bodyguard was a wise choice, surely, but he was still The Butcher, and that meant that he was always audience to his terrifying nature. Ferdinand would never get used to that voice, thankfully he didn't speak often, but when he did... Ehhh.\n\n As the party made their way to the Festival grounds, they split, Ferdinand and Carac heading to the stands to take their seats, while the rest of the mercenaries either made their way to their far less expensive seats, or to the fighters area, to prepare for Carac's bout. \nFerdinand smiled, tonight would be a night to remember, though he had an unsettling feeling Carac felt the same way."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cyprien de Lysse\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nCyprien didn't know if he wanted to feel condused or surprised. In spite what the islanders had nearly convinced him of, Bradai Maith did look like a pirate: a wise and wealthy one yes, but a pirate nevertheless. The king of the isles may have left the sea long ago, but the sea had never left him. He truly was a Pirate King. Was that a bad thing though? The king of the isles posessed a rugged majesty to him that inspired more respect than the gold and silks of the continent's rulers.\nCypren would describe it as the mark of a man who dictates his own fortune. That same aura hung over men like John de Burgh or Cyprien's own father, Aurelien. Deep down, he suspected this was the reason why Cyprien had never quite managed to live up to his legacy.\n\nHis seat wasn't next to the king's, but he honestly preferred that way. Better not to speak with the Islander king right away: doing so before the Ibbish did would come across supremely as arrogant. No, the person who had caught his attention was the one to his left.\n\nHe was a corpulent man, with a fiery red mane. His attire, decorated with wide stripes of mirror coins, was more similar to that of a merchant lord than a noble, but his air of severity was undoubtedly that of a ruler. In Cyprien's opinion, corpulence had a tendency to make a man reasonable, pleasant, or phlegmatic. It was always the nastiest of tyrants who were invariably thin."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nIt was Carac who noticed the man first, out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't an assassin, that was for sure, but that meant he was something worse, a noble. The Butcher did most of his business at the behest of nobles, but that didn't change the fact that they were dreadfully boring. Honor, respect, nobility, all these little trappings of life they held close to their chest like a child with their favorite toy, it really was sad. That was why he liked working for Ferdinand, he didn't care about any of that, that, and he always had something for him to test his sword against.\n\nA few seconds after Carac first noticed him, Ferdinand finally saw Cryprien to his right. He was certainly a sight, white hair, but his face didn't betray age old enough to warrant that, and reddish eyes, he was nearly an albino. Ferdinand didn't recognize him, which meant he wasn't a lord of Feyshore or Astoria, or at least, not an important one, and only important ones would be sitting so close to the King of the Southern Isles. That meant he was probably a lord of Araedia or Terresol, his money was on Araedia. \n\nMeeting Cyprien's eyes, he decided to make the first move on introductions\n\"Ah, almost didn't see you there!\" He said in his most jovial tone \"Allow me to make your acquaintance, I am Earl Ferdinand Chapoisson of Astoria, and your name...?\" \nPeople always expected that from him, a jovial, slightly awkward man who seemingly blundered his way into power. He assumed it had to do with his weight, but that only worked to his advantage. They never expected him to be the one to twist the knife in their backs."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cyprien de Lysse\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n\nAs he had predicted, Earl Ferdinand was surprisingly pleasant to speak to, but it was hard to make small talk with his guardian looking over his shoulder. His presence was menacing. Cyprien could sense bloodlust.\n\n\"My name is Cyprien de Lysse, Marquis of the Grey Hills of Terresol,\" He said. \"Our House guards the kingdom's northern frontier, though over the last decades, our main contribution has become mercantile.\"\n\nChapoisson was from Astoria, meaning he was most likely a merchant lord. Bringing up commerce would hopefully grab his attention. Astoria was far from the cold gulf of Emin, but House de Lysse had a reputation for it's patronage of the arts, perhaps Chapoisson would've heard of his family."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe Mizzen**\n\nThe two men were enjoying some pre-joust jerky when a few underlings from house Maith came to them to bring them to the royal box. They quickly followed behind after they heard about the complimentary concessions that would be waiting for them.\n\n\"I wouldn't have wasted time dealing with that vile jerky-peddling woman if I'd known there'd be free food,\" Whispered Kirk as he walked with Dennon.\n\n. . .\n\n\"Bradai!\" Dennon said warmly upon entering the space where'd they'd be enjoying the view of the joust. Though he wasn't sure if his voice could be heard above the roaring crowd. He assumed the Islander king was likely also focused on his role in managing the festivities, and Dennon did not want to be a distraction."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nAh, House De Lysse, so his guess was wrong, he was a Terresol lord after all. Ferdinand wasn't an expert on Terresol by any means, but his passing knowledge of the noble houses told him De Lysse was one of those noble families that prided itself on honor, art, and trade. Of those three, only one interested Ferdinand. \n\n\"Ah, House De Lysse! Tales of your nobility and honor have even reached my ears, it is an honor to meet you, good sir!\" Ferdinand bowed his head slightly in a sign of respect\n\"We Chapoisson's are also a mercantile people, though I doubt my humble operations are anywhere near the level of yours.\" *He chuckled warmly at this, the very image of a jolly fat lord*\n\nWhile his employer played the part of a jolly fat fool, Carac watched Cyprien from behind his steel helm. He wasn't aware of House De Lysse in any sense other than he knew they were nobles and therefore most likely arrogant fools. He detested this act Ferdinand put on, but he recognized it's purpose, as Ferdinand explained it, 'deception is the broadsword of the nobility'. Besides, he could feel how uncomfortable he was making this white-haired fool, and watching him squirm was a pleasure unto itself.\n\n\"Ah, how could I be so rude!\" Ferdinand exclaimed, still a spitting image of an slightly inept but well-meaning lord \n\n\"Allow me to introduce my guard captain and personal bodyguard, Sir Carac.\" \nHe gestured to the imposing figure standing to his side. He didn't know if Cyprien would recognize the armor-clad giant, but if he did, it would certainly be a powerful, yet subtle, gesture of his influence.\n\"He'll be competing in the duels later as well, so if you're a gambling man perhaps you should make your bets now before they get a look at him!\" Ferdinand gave a friendly laugh, amused at his own joke, Carac also chuckled slightly, though his was far from friendly, more like a rasping exhale, like the last sounds of a dying man"
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse - The Mizzen**\n\nA gamble.\n\nHe had taken too many gambles. Soon, one of those gambles would become one too many. But Cyprien's luck had not quite ran out yet. \n\n\"I'd be willing to bet against you. Since I assume you will be betting on your champion, I will place my bets on his opponents. I won't fork out much silver for all his contenders, but as long as your champion manages to stay in the fight, I promise I will keep betting against him to some extent. Do we have a deal?\"\n\nCarac... He had indeed heard the name before, but he couldn't remember where. Chapoisson's bodygaurd laughed, and his laugh turned into a cough. A vicious cough. It made Cyprien uneasy."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nFerdinand smiled, apparently unaware of his bodyguards horrid laugh\n\"Ah, that sounds perfect! I was told the De Lysse's were good sports, and you've confirmed that for me!\"\nHe smiled at Cyprien, offering him a hand\n\"Shake on it?\"\nBehind the cheery facade, Ferdinand stifled a cruel laugh, he knew Carac would crush any opponent he came across, the man was a absolute monster in the field of battle, and he doubted any warrior here could match him.\n\nCarac was confident in his skills, he knew he'd be the one to take the prize in this tourney, and if that also meant stripping this fool of his silver, then all the better. He had fought in a few tournaments before, though never one this big, mostly smaller fights for petty nobles to settle their differences. He guessed this was fairly similar, but covered in a guise of frivolity that disguised it's true brutality."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cyprien de Lysse\nThe Mizzen\n\nCyprien shook the man's hand.\n\n\"It's a deal then,\" He said. Then he added. \"If you don't mind me asking, where in Astoria is your fief?\"\n\nIt was an innocent question, but one that Cyprien's father always asked to any Lordsblood he met. _A man's mettle is defined not by how he treats his fellow lords, but by how he rules his subjects._ What would his father think of him now? The Grey Hills had grown bountiful under Cyprien's administration, but by the same token, the House had also become soft. Too soft. Even Cyprien himself was but a shadow of Aurelien's character."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Ah, my humble holdings are on the shore of Lake Fey in Astoria, not much to speak of, but they're mine.\" *He said, trying his best to sound humble. He doubted Cyprien had heard of his lands, but if he had, it was best to be vague. There were rumors of corruption in his lands, and it was one of the only places in Astoria where magic users were unwelcome. Not that they were banned outright, but it seemed any who wandered into his lands were always guilty of some other crime. He allowed doctors and herbalists, of course, they were useful, and those who practiced the fine art of chicanery were always welcome, but those who pledged themselves to true magic, or devoted their lives to one of those awful cults were something he'd rather not have polluting his land.\n\n\"I assume the only reason I was invited to this festival is because I often do trade with the Southern isles, enough that someone felt that I should be here, I suppose.\""
},
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "Sir Wendel\nTonate Proper, Isle of Tonate\n\n\"Hold on. So, yer feller 'cross the street tells me that my fair hair's liable to catch fire in this sun. Now *Yer* Tryin' to push this here balm on me to stop me turnin' into a brunet?\" Wendel skewed his brow. \"Sir, those two things can't both be true.\"\n\n\"That blaggard is trying to have you for a ride, man,\" Asserted the merchant with an accusatory finger. His swarthy face looked fit to burst. \"He's the type to try and lead good travellers like you astray. *My* Only desire is to help prevent a fine-looking lad like you from losing your lovely golden sheen.\"\n\nA flush came to Wendel's pale cheeks. He looked up at his forehead, but couldn't actually see any strands, brushed as they were into elegant, knightly waves falling down to his neck. They were probably going to be sweaty and matted by the end of the day, just like the one before. He felt uncomfortably foreign. All around were vivid colours and flamboyant rumbloods and fine architecture of ruddy stonework; half a world away from Vallen. The heat was biting at the back of his neck.\n\n\"I'll, uh ... I'll take two bottles.\"\n\nThe sound of an Islander crying out over the din cut into his ears. He felt the man's voice more than he heard it. Understanding anything these people said always took concentration. Narrowing his eyes towards the centre of the marketplace, he saw what must have been a crier, decked out in resplendent attire complete with a feathered, jewel-studded cap. Wendel frowned, wondering how much blood has been spilt across wooden decks to get those jewels. He attuned his ears to the Islander's lilt.\n\n\"—day! Hear ye, hear ye! A glorious spectacle awaits ye all at the Mizzen! Go thither soon to witness the height of martial prowess! Warriors from all corners of Marin, ready to knock the shite out of each other to prove their valour and skill!\"\n\n\"So it begins?\" Wendel whispered. He turned back to the merchant and grimaced. \"I'm afraid I'm goin' to have to put this transaction on hold. By the end of today, I'll either be richer'n ever, or have barely enough coin to buy my way home.\" He looked away and frowned, fingering his coin pouch at his hip. \"If even that ... Goodbye now.\"\n\nWendel made his way out of the marketplace, ignoring the muffled curses he could hear the merchant making as he left. He smiled, eager to feel the weight of a lance in his hand, and the gentle caress of a chainmail hauberk draped over his shoulders.\n\nSo it began."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nThe Mizzen \n\nValkrin had been in the advance party of the king's escort to the tournament grounds when he got reports of suspicious activity, and hoped the king hadn't noticed his absence. He'd apprehended a few men who were being 'interviewed' in a back alley by his guards right now. \n\nAfter returning to the tournament grounds, he set to work giving his guards their postings and briefing them on certain individuals that might cause trouble. Though he hadn't issued any kill on sight orders, his men were told if they had reasonable thought that their lives or the lives of civilians were in immediate danger, they were allowed to eliminate the threat instead of apprehending them. \n\nValkrin checked his dress uniform for any dirt or imperfections, and made sure his guards closest to the King were sober, before entering the area that the Pirate King and his guests would be watching from. He stood behind the King, far enough to not impose, but close enough to stop any attacks."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen\n\nFerdinand turned from his conversation with Cyprien to look upon the gathering horses and their riders. Jousting was a fine sport, and one of the few he enjoyed, though what he really looked forward to was the duels that came after. After all, it wasn't just coin that was on the line, but glory, both for the warriors and the lords they fought for. \nIf Carac did well enough, he might be able to gain an audience with the pirate king, something that would be very lucrative, or at least, so he hoped.\n\nCarac didn't care about the horses assembling, instead looking to the new arrival in the booth, a man who he could only assume to be the king's bodyguard. He'd heard a bit about the man, Farensun, the 'branded captain' according to drunken sailors and mercenaries with a penchant for sea shanties. From up close, he didn't seem like much, a little disappointing to meet another legend in the flesh, and end up realizing they were only human after all. Maybe he'd be in the duels as well, maybe even offer Carac a challenge for once.\n\nAs the Jousters began to line up, Carac made a quick glance in their direction. He could ride for sure, but jousting wasn't his area of expertise. Too top-heavy, it made him easy to topple. He was best on his feet, with a sword in his hand, and soon enough, he'd have a chance to prove exactly how good he was."
}
] | 231 | 4,444 |
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{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Royal Balcony, The Mizzen\n\nWhen he stood, they all grew silent, brought to a hush as the royal guard of Tonate Proper placed themselves on either side of him. To his left, a little behind, was his seneschal and head advisor. To his right was his sister and his Master Admiral, chief commander of the royal fleet. Standing there, he truly did look his age. The sun beat down harshly on the three of them, but the Pirate King was addressing his people. \n\n\"Today!\" The Pirate King tapped his cane against the stone of the balcony, \"Today is a day of celebration. Many from across \"Tha world 'ave come to our city, to see our architecture and marvel at our power. Vhey look upon our fleet and grow envious! Vhey look upon our growff and feel small! Vhey offer us vheir gifts and we accept vhem, because it was us, for very long, for too long, vhat fed vhem and kept vhem brave! We 'ave fed vhem for one fhousand years! And now, only now, do vhey realize tha debt! Lords and Kings 'ave come to fank us for our gracious deeds, as slaves and as sailors all!\" \n\nFrom around the outer ring of the Mizzen, the wardrums began to sound. They came like thunder and caught the air alight with a deep booming that shook the very core of the audience. They broke the silence with a raucous cheer, a shouting, a waving of banners and hands. When the Pirate King tapped his cane again, they fell to a murmur.\n\n\"\"But today will not last for all time! For as long as we 'ave been sailors and slaves, we 'ave been wagers of great wars! Wars of great import! When I became your King and united our Islands, we required a period of intense and prolonged peace. Of rest, of work, of building and of growing. I 'ave given to you, and fhough I 'ave toiled to build vhis great empire, it 'as been a period of great rest for us all. Now, as was the case wiff our genesis, we are strong. When I look upon vhis city today I can say it is tha case. We 'ave grown strong! As when our original Uniter, tha Barer uff tha Tides, tamed Nar'Shyreth and tha sea, 'e commanded wiff 'im tha power to wage war tha likes of which 'ad never been seen before! Tha Araedians will say 'e fought for gold! For fear! For power! But vhat, vhat is far from fact. 'e fought the endless battle uff our people, a battle vhat when we were shackled, ripped from our lands and displaced in our new home, swore to undertake by blood and sweat and grief a great and honorable war! Whatever the cost may be! A war against tha might of UNJUST TYRANNY!\"\n\nHe did not need to hear above the clamour. Bradai Maith was clad in a thick black overcoat, much too dark and too heavy to be wearing in the sweltering heat of the Islander sun. His face was golden, flecked with the redbrown freckles that betrayed any sense of royal purity. The teal sapphires in his dark brass crown flickered wildly in the immense white sun that hovered over them all. His beard grew thick and bushy around his face and down to his collarbones. His eyes, the color of the storm, flickered back and forth to his left and right. They were with him.\n\n\"It is today vhat we continue tha fight against vhis ultimate evil!\" He exhaled, pursed his lips tightly, and continued. \"It was today, that tha corrupt crown uff Terresol, puppeteered by an company of malicious and dishonorable forces, sent its first blades against me! Tha Bluebelles! Known sympafhivers to tha Scallywags and to tha Mainland, send my own wife against me! She came at me, in an attempt to neutralize our empire so that we may be defeated in our aims! She was struck down by my sister, an honorable servant to tha empire and to our common goal!\"\n\nGitten stepped forwards. She looked like him. She had the same long nose, the same golden skin, the grey eyes, but her hair sprouted from her hair in thick red tufts, like spouts of wriey red fire. \"Yes!\" She shouted, \"Yes Ay Did! I strock tha bitch doen! A trayter trou and trou! 'er family is trayters to us all! Even now! Even now! We've got vhem! Sailin' to vheir 'omes to clean us uff 'em!\" She gripped at the railing and shuck it wildly, which sent the people into a deep fervor. They were screaming now, pounding at their railings and stomping their feet. The banners above the Mizzen flew taught, their worn tails whipping loudly against the clear blue sky. Above it all, the wardrums pounded with a harsh insistence.\n\nAgain, the cain was tapped and the crowd fell silent. \"Wisdom Magistrate Serafina, alfough tha name previously meant nuffink to our Empire, is a tyrant. She and 'er order allowed for Vronti Kelwynd to perpetrate great atrocities against our people! She now plans to place a false King on tha frone uff Terresol, to plunge the Kingdom into unjust and subjugated rule! She vows to continue tha legacy of tyranny against us, and against our bruvhers in arms! But I 'ave, in our possession, tha true King uff Terresol. 'e, like tha rest uff our Kings and Lords, 'ave come to us to beg uff our fleet and services, so vhat we may continue our great fight.\"\n\nFrom behind him, in the depths of the royal balcony, the door opened. His men filled the room and made way for the former First Knight of Sol and the crown Princess of Terresol to join him at the balcony. Although they were a foreign sight for the people of the Isles, there was a cheer for them. The Pirate King took a step away from the balcony and motioned for the Terresi to take his place."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Lord Eric Stafford\nThe Mizzen\n\nThe Lord of Stormalong watched the speech with great interest, his green eyes glued to the King of The Islanders. He was in awe at the command he had over his people. The way Bradai could work his people into a stomping fury, then bid them to be silent was something Eric doubted he could even do in Feyshore. It was difficult not to be inspired by a man Eric himself had little love for. What impressed Eric even more, was the not that Bradai had the command over his people, but that the people were receptive to this command. The fury at the thought of an attempt on their kings life was palpable.\n\nEric had his reservations about Bradai, but this speech and the people's response reassured that he was the best choice. If this speech means what Eric thought it meant, then what Eric came here for was entirely possible. His gaze shifted to the Terresolians. If Bradai is seating them, then it is likely to kill two birds with a single stone. Eric committed the faces of every person in the box to memory,making it a priority to meet every person their. Especially finally making acquiantence with King Maith as well as this Terresolian princess. \n\nEric leaned toward his companion, the newly knighted Sir Gerwold Westen of Southmark, \"Commit those people to memory. They are who I will be meeting with above anyone else, if you receive a message summoning me to see King Maith or any of those Terresolians, no matter what I'm doing, you may interrupt. No one else is as important.\"\n\n\"Of course, my lord. I'll ensure you are notified.\" The young knight replied."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Cyprien de Lysse - The Mizzen**\n\nThough initially surprised by the Pirate King's speech impediment, Cyprien let himself be carried by the strenght and emotion of the words. It was awe inspiring at first, but then... It was horror. Bradai Maith began to rant against the Crown of Terresol and the Magistrates of the Southern Pantheon with fiery rethoric. Also his wife for some reason. _'I've have thrown my lot with a madman'_ thought Cyprien. How could've he been so naive to think the isles would lend him troops to fight against John de Burgh? The paved roads, the buildings, the colors... All the prosperity the Pirate King spoke of... It was all an illusion!The islanders cared only for themselves: they had been a nation of thieves before, and they sure were not going to change that now! And now he was trapped! Trapped in hostile land that didn't share his values, or \n\nYet, before he could sink into despair, enlightnenment was bestowed upon him. Like a revelation from Emin herself. Cyprien felt himself lose breath at the mention of the One True Heir. Could it be true? His eyes fell over the figure that stood now in place of Bradai, scrutinizing it for the faintest of clues about his origin. If the Pirate King spoke truth, then his purpose was now clear. Saris had guided him to isles not because of Bradai Maith, or the isles, but because of something greater...\n\nCyprien had once heard his men call John de Burgh \"The scourge of Saris\". It all made sense now. It had to. Why else would've Saris submitted Terresol to such trubulation, if not to send a divine message? Who else could be fated to save the kingdom, if not the heir of the rightful Vortigern line?"
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe Mizzen**\n\nDennon leaned over and whispered during a lull in the speech. \"Hey Kirk, during your wedding, was the name of the wisdom that performed the ceremony-\"\n\n\"Yes, it's her!\" Kirk hissed, stressfully sweating away the clean brow provided by the bath he had taken earlier.\n\n\"Right...\" Dennon leaned back in place, glancing around to see if anyone was looking at them in a conspicuous way. He leaned over again after several seconds. \"Should we be worried?\"\n\n\"Just keep an eye on the exits.\" Kirk's voice cracked.\n\nDennon thought about how one might go about escaping a crowded arena like this. They were in the royal box. It would obviously be well-guarded, but would the guards be focused on outward threats enough that they could get by if they ran away quickly enough from within? Bradai probably planned this speech. He knew the Ibbish would be there. Would his men be aware of a possible attempt to flee? Did he think they would sit by idly until it was too late? He hadn't mentioned the Ibbish explicitly, so there was no obvious threat, but the longer they waited, the harder it would be to leave if the walls began to close in.\n\nEven if they got lucky and were able to liberate themselves from the Mizzen, the city would soon be looking for them. They were on an island, they would not be able to slip away back to Ibethiel through the wilderness. Any ship back to the mainland would surely be searched.\n\nDennon wondered if grilled tuna was also served in the dungeons."
},
{
"author": "faeryfire",
"message": "Mouse\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nMouse sat upon her cart quiet as a... Well, a mouse, as King Bradai shouted over the crowd. When the war drums kicked in, she tapped her hands against the wood of the cart below her in time with them.\n\nWhen the king spoke her mind followed as best it good. Poor Cecily-Edith had not had much of an education with her parents dying young and much of her youth spent helping her aunts look after their various broods - so she wasn't so good with her words. Things like \"*Genesis*\" And \"*Unjust tyranny*\" Left her rather in the dark - though she cheered on with the crowd anyway.\n\nKing Bradai's wife tried to kill him? An audible gasp left Mouse's throat. Though... Which wife was it again? \n\nOh there was Gitten! Mouse liked Gitten as much as a slum dweller could like a noble they'd only ever heard stories of - adoration and awe surely were part of that.\n\nOne of the rats in the cage beside Mouse began to claw and bite at the metal bars, surely restless and anxiety ridden with all the loud noise around it and Mouse swatted it away with her finger,\"Stahp 'at!\" She scolded it.\n\n*Oh, we're cheering again*? She thought, looking above to the balcony at a man and a young girl. *Who's that*?\n\nRegardless, Mouse clapped and cheered and roared with the crowd."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nFerdinand looked over to the man sitting next to him. Cyprien's reaction to the king's speech made this whole damn trip worth it, no matter what else happened. But what truly interested him was the reveal of the princess. That Bradai was taking active interest in the succession of Terresol was certainly something, and perhaps something he could use to his advantage.\nOf course, he was sitting in a box alongside several nobles who might not make it through the rest of the festival. He hoped Carac would be enough to protect him if swords and arrows flew. \n\nCarac didn't understand much of what Bradai said. Not just because of the lisp, but because his knowledge of nobility and succession began and ended with the knowledge that anyone involved was a prick. However he had to hand it to the Pirate King, despite not understanding most of what he said, he felt energized by his words. The man had a presence to him that few could boast. He was a living legend, a man who could do the impossible and make it look easy. \nJudging by the reaction some of the others in the booth had, however, not everyone was as excited as Carac. Well, if swords were drawn, then perhaps he could impress King Maith by taking care of these fools for him."
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Caderyn Vortigern\nThe Mizzen\n\nFor most who had come to arrive at the southern isles, it seemed a time to celebrate and to partake in a friendly joust. For Caderyn, however, it was a time of anxiety. Stress and doubt had made themselves known as he pondered the future and its implications. The guards that flanked his sides at near all times served as a reminder of this, as did the celebratory decorations that found themselves littering the Mizzen. Despite his feelings, Caderyn walked with a head held high. He was good at keeping a face of composure under times of stress, an effect war could have on people when they're forced out of their home under the threat of death. \n\nHis hair was pulled back into a simple bun, he wore a tight, thin vest made of fancy leather over a simple yet clean silken shirt, with loose pants that tightened around his shins, ending in leather shoes. The former knight looked down from the balcony to the guests cheering below. He studied each and every one with an observant, judgemental eye. Maybe it was the realization of the trust he would have to put in these people, maybe it was the nerves choking up in his throat. One thing was certain through all the uncertainty, however; he would need to convince an entire nation of people to accompany him to war.\n\nRaising a hand, the former knight beckons the crowd to silence their cheer so he may speak. \"My dear Islandslers, Mainland Knights and fair people of the just, I stand here in request that the one true ruler and heir to the Terresolian throne, Fleur Vortigern, be respected as the rightful and absolute truth.\" He lowers his hand to Fleur's shoulder, his other out and open as he talks to those who listen, \"The wisdoms of Sol sow their seeds of deceit amongst those poor people, their nefarious schemes serve only to better themselves and their religion. Their meddling will lead to naught but trouble for everyone who denies their dogma and the right to freedom may very well be stripped from their citizens. I say this, not to make petty claims against the southern pantheon, but because those same southern pantheon leaders plan to place a false king on the throne.\"\n\nCaderyn's brow sterns as his face washes with an air of seriousness, \"It is no secret that the southern pantheon despises these beautiful islands, if they get their way, it will spell no end to trouble for the southern isles, all the hard work you've all put into fighting against the pantheon and slavery, will all be in vain. It is my request, today, that you would lend me your flags to travel the seas, and that you would lend me your swords should the wisdoms of sol wrongfully rise in arms against our cause. Success would spell the end to fear of attacks from the mainland, a time of peace against the tyranny of the Wisdoms of Sol and open trades to one of the biggest cities on the mainland.\" \n\n\"It is my wish, in light of their atrocities, to restore the Vortigern bloodline to its rightful glory. I will rule for the years to come until Fleur, the one true queen of Terresol, comes of age to take my place. Together, with the help of the southern isles, we will reform the southern pantheon and restore Terresol to its former glory!\"\n\nThe Islanders, upon the crescendo of his speech, return to chaotic cheer, raising their arms and stomping their feet once more."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Mizzen's Royal Balcony\n\n\"Forffright wiff Foresight!\" Bradai shouted, thrusting his cane into the air. \"Forffright wiff Foresight!\" \n\nHis people began to scream back at him, and he brought his cane down onto the railing with one hand. Once, twice, pounding, pounding. \"LOUDER!\" He commanded, \"LOUDER!\" Spit flew from the King's mouth as he commanded his people, holding the cane aloft. The silver pommel shone like a brilliant royal star.\n\nHe let it go on as the show continued. A group of naked people were brought out, paraded in a straight line by men in long black trench coats. The father, Marai Bluebelle, was decrepit, dark, and tired, with a rounded belly, scraggly grey beard, and a chest that hung like an old woman's breasts. Behind him was his wife and his two older sons. Even from this distance, he could see how they resembled his late wife. Their hands were bound, but they were pushed along to the center of the Mizzen with sharpened sticks. The drums continued to pound and the people continued to scream. Despite his bondage, the younger of the boy's swung an elbow around, hooking one of the men in the chest. He found a crossbow bolt lodged in his stomach. When he fell to his knees and the crimson tide trickled from his stomach, the cheering only grew louder. Just as his began family grew frantic, they were put on their knees, their legs kicked in and their backs made straight. \n\nIn a single motion, The Pirate King swung his cane, and the Bluebelles were perforated with the bolts of twenty crossbows. Their groans and deathknells could not be heard over the screaming of his people, but when they slumped over into a traitorous pile, the Pirate King tapped his cane against the stone, and they all grew silent in time with the drums. The crossbowmen began to cart the bodies away and throw white sand on top of the red, leaving no trace of the execution.\n\n\"START THA JOUST!\" Gitten shouted. \"YOUR KING COMMANDS IT!\"\n\nHe turned, sat down in his tournament seat, set the accordion on his lap, and took a long draw from his goblet."
}
] | 378.5 | 4,280 |
362.125 | 2021-02-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Royal Balcony, the Mizzen.\n\nThe back of the Pirate King's chair was high and sloped, with a side seat that allowed him to comfortably sit back and enjoy the show. His fingers tapped dryly against the keys of his accordion, errant chords wheezing idly from his lap. \n\n\"Dennon!\" The chair barked, \"Come up 'ere and sit tha Kings, will you?\" There was an empty chair between he and Caderyn. \"The view is much better from 'ere, I assure you.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby\nThe Royal Box of The Mizzen**\n\n\"Are you sure he didn't just say Dennis instead?\" Dennon asked quietly before Kirk discreetly pushed the reluctant king forward. \"Ass!\" He hissed while acting like he was saying goodbye to Kirk for Bradai's invitation. \"Thank you for the seat.\" Dennon said cheerfully once he was close enough to be heard by Bradai above the noise of the crowd. He sat down between the two men, pressing his knees as close as he could together with his elbows brought in so that he wouldn't accidentally get too far in to their personal space."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Royal Balcony, The Mizzen.\n\nBradai turned to fact the Ibbish King while the crowd erupted into cheers and bursts of feverish drummings. A group of servants came around with trays of exotic fruits, cheese and meat tarts. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the way the Ibbish King was sitting. \n\n\"Do you...\" It was slowly beginning to dawn on him that Dennon Bigsby was, in fact, henpecked. When it came to rumors of royals, it was often prudent to take whatever came with a grain of salt, but it was true. He wasn't soft spoken, he was a prisoner. No one had heard of this man previous to Cheston's murder, and now here he was, supposedly commanding one of the most powerful countries in the world. But he hadn't talked about matters of state once. Bradai had considered it to be Dennon holding his cards close to his chest, laying in wait for an opportune moment to strike. Looking at him now, with his knees and arms pinned together by invisible nails, he didn't know what to think. \"Relax.\" He said, passing him a cup of rum. \" 'ow often do you get away from vhose mountains? You should unwind.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby\nThe Royal Balcony in The Mizzen**\n\nDennon relaxed his pose to more naturally hold the cup he had been given, still not fully at ease between the two men who had only minutes ago made speeches of war and revenge against people on the mainland, not to mention the public execution they had all just witnessed as part of the festivities. \"Not often. In the last four years, I've only been outside of Ibethiel three times, including this. The other two occasions were both in Taemar.\" He took a swig of the rum. For a hot day, the warm rush of the drink felt pleasant, and the ice provided a nice balance. \"I suppose I could ask you the same thing. How often do you leave the Isles? I can't imagine wanting to. The weather is quite agreeable.\""
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim - The Mizzen \n\nHer dark eyes skimmed through the crowd, observing who was seating next to them to see if she could recognize anyone. Her hand fidgeting nervously with the single golden right on her annular. She eyed the two men Lord De Lysse was entertaining himself with, not minding their words. Her gaze wandering towards the King's Box where he and the Terresol Crown Prince were seated. The Terresolian lady had a very different idea of what King Bardai would have looked like, partially influenced by the member of his court that had welcomed them at the palace, Silas specifically. His opening monologue put her on edge. Her attention was brought back to the Joust as the crowd erupted, the two challengers making their way in the field after being announced. \nCalypso had attended similar events back at home, but it seemed like here on the Isle they weren't as popular as in the mainland. Her dark eyes studied the two knights, even from here she could see how massive the man answering as Sir Welden's was. But despite that, she wasn't ready to bet on his victory."
},
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "Sir Wendel\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nThe deep, loud wail of the horn sounded throughout the arena. The starting signal. Cries and shouts and cheers erupted from the stands as the two knights began to charge at one another. The Raven Knight felt the gust of wind blow into his helmet as his horse began to gain more and more speed, the clopping of hooves and the roar of the crowd filling his ears. As Wendel drew close, the knight leaned far forward on his horse with his weapon outstretched. Being so low, he was able to barely evade Wendel's lance. His own made contact with his opponent's shoulder. In about a second, the splitting of wood rang in his ears as his lance broke.\n\nWendel had gasped when the lance struck him and ignited its lightning-quick battle against his backbone. It had evoked the memory of a monstrous paw pressing him down, folding him. *Not again!* He'd locked his thighs against the saddle and made forward! The battle-cry of every fibre in his being. And the lance had been reduced to splinters.\n\nThough a small success—the other man *Had* Just scored five points—it exhilarated Wenel in a way that was months-estranged from him. He let out a mixed caw of triumph and shock as he rode on past the Raven Knight. \n\nA fence bisected the arena, stopping short of the wall at either side so the jousters could come around after each tilt. It prevented their horses from running into each other's breasts during the clash. Rounding the end and changing to the other side, Wendel levelled a stern gaze once more on his adversary.\n\nThe Raven Knight trotted his horse down the corner, still holding the broken lance in his hand. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, his face still hidden beneath his helmet. The crowd was cheering like wild, excited for the next run.\n\nAn attendant walked over with a new lance, and the knight took it in exchange for his fractured one. His helmet veered over to Wendel's direction, and it seemed as if he gave a small nod. Though, of course, it could have just been him readjusting his position on his horse.\n\nHe raised his lance again, and leaned forward as the horn wailed once more.\n\nWendel breathed in sharp puffs as he sped forth. His soul was alight, his veins bulging beneath his skin. Excitement was buzzing in his arm as if it were a homely hive, full of yearning for that satisfying *Thump* Of victory. *Closer*. The thrill was deep within his bones. *Closer*. The air was growling, whistling through his helmet. *Closer*. It was like that the rangers charged against those whoresons at Bear Creek.\n\n*Close*. He was going to miss.\n\nIf the blow hadn't instantly winded him, he would have cried out. The feel of his stirrups vanished, and for a moment, the earth was spinning all around him, but he felt like he hanging still in the air. Then the sand, not able to soften the harsh firmness of the solid earth below, rose up to put him in his place.\n\nThe Raven Knight's horse slowed as it neared the corner. Cheers erupted from the crowd at the action, and it was clear they were thirsting for more. Again, the knight slowed his horse as it went around the fence. His lance lowered slightly as he sat up straight in his saddle, waiting for Wendel to recover and remount his horse.\n\nWendel winced as he tried to rise. *Up on your fours, piggy!* That's what Big Rupert and his friends would say when they knocked him over. He fucking hated those days, and he fucking hated getting unhorsed before he'd even scored a light hit. It was true what he'd told Blae at the beginning; an understatement, perhaps. He felt more shaken than stirred.\n\nEver diligent, the slender stallion came around the fence, stopping opposite his master. Wendel crawled over to grab his lance off the ground. Another all-too-familiar scene. \"I'm alright, I'm alright,\" He mumbled to the invisible people who had rushed to his aid. Sighing, he reached across the fence and grabbed the reins. \"Back and at 'em, Blae.\"\n\nWhen once again mounted and ready, he noticed that a hush of suspense had fallen upon the spectators. There were still two more tilts to go. The Raven Knight had fifteen points. If Wendel could get at least one unhorsing and one break, he'd match that; f he somehow managed to unhorse the man twice over, he'd beat him with twenty points. \n\nA sardonic spirit seized him in that moment. He flipped up his visor and grinned at the knight. \"You'll pay for zat vone. I'll make a fine cap viss your feazers, Raven!\" The laughter he heard trickle down from the crowd healed his morale a good deal. Back down came his faceguard, and he readied his lance. When the horn sounded, he gave his horse a kick into action, and took off along the fence.\n\nAs the horse's motions rocked him, he paid heed to the balance of the lance in his hand. *Closer*. He stopped giving attention to the ground between them, or long it would be until they clashed. With a settled mind, Wendel focused only on the end of his weapon, and its destination on the man's chest.\n\nHe remembered what his father had told him; how a truly brilliant warrior has to take a risk every now and again. *Combat voult be a longer ant much bloodier affair if fought betveen mints of absolute caution*. He leaned aside in his addle, and turned slightly, giving his opponent less breadth at which to aim. His shoulder blades ached as he struggled to keep the lance steady.\n\nAs the two grew closer and closer, The Raven Knight's lance aimed at Wendel's side. The cheering of the crowd, the huffing of breath echoing in their helmets, and the sound of hooves filled their ears as they drew closer. Closer. *Closer.*\n\nAs the two came into close contact, it was as if the next events all happened in slow motion. The mystery knight's lance, still aimed at his opponent's side, slowly grew farther and farther from its target as his opponent twisted away. Simultaneously, Wendel's lance outstretched and made hard contact to his chest. The blow made him rear back in his saddle, and he fell off his horse, landing on his back with a harsh thud.\n\nThe feel of the strike lit up Wendel's breast like flint and steel. He roared a beastly battle cry and bellowed \"Down!\" At the other knight as he fell to the ground. Galloping to his next position, he raised his lance high in the air, presenting the tool of the spectacle to the roaring crowd . Behind his face guard, he was smiling like a drunk.\n\n\"Amazing!\" The announcer cried. \"At fifteen points to a Taemish ten, it's getting close! Will the mysterious mask seal his victory, or will the bog-man *Just* Manage to snatch his opponent's crown?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon\nThe Mizzen\n\nPuck ran onto the field to tighten the saddle and make sure everything was still put together, but his teeth hurt from clenching them in excitement. He looked up at Wendel as he gave the roaring crowd a show. He had remained silent until this point, but he felt his fingertips tremble as he checked the armor for both horse and rider. \n\n\"Hey, Sir Wendel!\" He called, trying to get his attention. \"Win it for the Taemish, yeah? For us.\" He said shortly. Wendel may have been from the Steppes, but Puckgordon *Was* From the bog. \n\n\"Win for us, fucker! I don't care where you're from.\" He said, excited and pumped up from the battle. \"TAKE it from him!\""
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen, Tonate proper\n\nFerdinand watched as the two jousters prepared to charge on another again. The secretive Raven knight was certainly a spectacle to behold, just as the rumors described him. This Taemish lad was putting up a fight, but he doubted it would be enough. After all, legends are legends for a reason, and this Taemish fool would be but a footnote in the Raven Knight's.\n\nWhile his employer chuckled to himself and watched the two fighters prepare for the finale of their bout, Carac stood in silence. He knew better than most what combat involved, and now to see the winner of a battle before it was over. This Taemish boy had grit, that much was obvious, and his skill at jousting was undeniable. But he had something more to him, a drive that Carac recognized from the eyes of truly determined foes, the ones who scarred him before they fell. He may be fighting a legend, but Carac knew firsthand that legends were far more fallible than most would believe. This could go either way now, it all depended on what was stronger, the legend of the Raven Knight, or the will of this boy from Taemar."
}
] | 208 | 2,897 |
299.916667 | 2021-02-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "Sir Wendel\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nWendel stared down at Puck for a moment, searching his face, then grinned. \"Ha! I *Ssought* You looked like a Melsi. Today goes to ze glory o' ze Great Hog, brozer!\" \n\nThe Raven Knight rose to his full height as the crowd continued to cheer after the announcer's declaration. He stood there for a few seconds, then grabbed his lance before he began walking to his horse, nonchalantly brushing off the dirt that was still clinging to his armor with his free hand. He made it to his horse, and after mounting, turned his horse to once again face Wendel.\n\nWendel flipped his visor again, and shouted, \"I sure hope you didn't break a ving, little birt! You'll be vantin' to fly far, far avay after zis next clash!\" The full drawl of his Taemish accent flourished in those words. Then, a shrill holler, the kind that the steppes-rangers always cried when they were riding into danger. He set his steed facing the right direction and straightened his back. \"High time for a banqvet o' dirt, friend,\" He said, waiting for the horn to sound.\n\nAs the crowd cheered and the horn was lifted to the horn player's lips, the Raven Knight raised his lance and leaned forward in his saddle.\n\nThe horn blared, and the two started forward yet again. The horses began to pick up speed, and the lances were leveled. The Raven Knight appeared to be aiming again for Wendel's side. They drew closer. And closer. Closer\n\nAgain, Wendel did the twisting motion as he leaned his lance forward. This time, however, the aim of The Raven Knight's lance moved quickly away from Wendel's far side to point at the near side of his ribs. As he did this, he moved to the far side of his saddle, evading Wendel's lance once again as his own made direct contact with its target.\n\nWendel had felt like all the power of the earth was behind his lance in the heat of that moment. It was a brief illusion. He grunted painfully as his torso crunched at the Raven Knight's strike. It was a solid hit, and even though it didn't knock him off at once, he knew immediately that he was finished. His lance fell out of a limp hand and as his arms flopped, numb and tingling.\n\n—\n\nEventually, as Blae galloped along, Wendel slumped right off of his saddle. His head crashed on top of the fence with a resounding *Bang* That sent the whole wooden edifice shuddering from end to end.\n\nCheers and applause eviscerated the short silence that had followed the strike. \"Ladies and gentleman, we have a winner!\" The announcer declared.\n\nThe Taemishman lay flat and motionless on the ground. \n\nAs the cheering continued, The Raven Knight rode his horse to the end of the fence, and then dismounted. Taking off his helmet, he handed it along with his lance to two attendants. The masked man then began to walk over to where Wendel's body was sprawled on the ground. Attendants went over to rouse his opponent as he drew closer."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Mizzen\n\nPuck felt his heart stop as Wendel was hit, and he cringed outwardly as Wendel hit the fence, and he pushed everyone out of the way to run forward. \n\nOkay, let's make one thing clear. It's not like he *Cared*... Much. But. He was still an attendant for Wendel, and the fact that he was quite possibly dead made him feel a little uneasy. \n\nHe was the first one there at his side, looking at the solid dent in the chest plate that the Raven Knight had made. He pulled at the straps of his plate to loosen it so he could breathe (if he was breathing at all). Puck had been in the aisles for a year or so, so his accent had diminished, but he was still Taemish, still Melsi, and Hog-damn it, he felt a pain in his chest, too. He was going to fight a lot because of this. If people thought that they could use it against him, blanket it over him thinking he was weak just because Wendel lost, they had another thing coming. He glanced back at the Raven Knight as he approached, and he bared his teeth, his eyes narrowing. \n\nIt's not like the Raven Knight played dirty, he won square and fair, but if he thought he could gloat over the possible corpse of his opponent, Puck would bite him. \n\nPuck turned back to Wendel to pull off the helmet to make sure he could breathe. \n\n\"Fuck, I thought you'd win.\" He murmured. \"But I still want you to get up.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nRoyal Balcony, The Mizzen\n\nValkrin didn't show any emotion in his face, but he felt somewhat bad for the kid from Taemar. He walked around the perimeter of the room, making it seem like he was checking on his guards, but in reality he was collecting his winnings from them. \n\n\"That's why you don't bet on the fuck that runs his mouth the whole time.\" He'd whisper to each of them as he passed. \n\nIt wasn't that gambling wasn't allowed between the guards, it's just it was discouraged in front of the visiting royals. On his way back to his original position, a guard called out to him. \"D'ya fhink 'e's dead, sir?\" The guard asked, staring at the boy on the ground. \n\n\"For his sake he'd better be,\" Said Valkrin turning his attention to the scene, \"Be the first joust of the day, *And* Deny the crowd a corpse? They'll likely stone him for the insult.\" He laughed at his own humor slightly too loud and hoped the kings hadn't heard him."
},
{
"author": "a.n.n4173",
"message": "Calypso Kolgrim - The Mizzen\n\nWhen Sir Welder hit the ground Clalypso's hand flew up to cover Lady Fleur's eyes to shield the girl from the violent show. But her face remained unfazed as she looked at the body laying on the ground. \nUnfortunately, her premonition had been right in the end. It wasn't the first time she experienced such a situation. Jousters died all the time during this kind of event, it was a risk that they were willing to take in the name of glory and money. \nA sigh escaped her lips. Bastien would surely scold her for showing, or better *Not showing* Any kind of reaction."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Ferdinand Chapoisson and Carac the Butcher\nThe Mizzen\n\nFerdinand chuckled, he had put a large sum of coin on the Raven Knight to win, and that had certainly paid off. It seemed like the boy was dead, oh well, these sorts of things happened in jousts, sometimes you're just out of your depth and pay the price. He turned over his shoulder to look at Carac\n\"Looks like the Raven Knight knows his way around a joust, eh?\" He smiled, looking for any reaction from is hulking bodyguard. As usual, all he got was a grunt from Carac, who looked down at the unmoving form of Wendel.\n\nUnderneath his helm, Carac frowned. He wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed, he thought this kid might have more fight in him than this, that determination he saw before might just have been a trick of the light. Mostly, he just was upset the Raven Knight wasn't put on his ass. Maybe it was silly for him to think this way, but he always thought that the 'Legend' of the Raven Knight was exaggerated. He jousted for the amusement of the King for the gods sakes! He was more than likely some posh noble who liked dressing up in black armor and pretending to be something more than he was. But based on what lay before him, perhaps he was too quick to judge, he at least had a killer instinct."
},
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "When Puck pulled Wendel's helmet off, his eyes were barely open, and his pale face was dumbstruck. Puck couldn't hear him breathing ...\n \n—\nSer Wendel\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n*\"... Want you to get up.\"*\n\nPuck's voice was a drop in the pond, clearing away its oily-black skin. The world opened up to Wendel, but the clouds seemed to be hovering up and down in the sky. Squinting, he shifted himself up onto his backside. Still, everything around him was warping, palpitating to the rhythm of a steady throb in his skull. He looked at Puck with wide, dazzled eyes."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Seneschal Silas Asgarov\nThe Pit of the Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nNo one had seen or heard the Seneschal leave the royal box. In one moment he had been reclined in his padded chaise lounge, a goblet of wine in his slender fingers as he chatted loudly with the serving staff. But when the Taemishman was knocked from his horse and appeared unresponsive, he was gone, with only the faint scent of his flowery perfume to mark his sudden absence. \n\nAs the young Melsi got to his knees and began to shake the boy, the long shadow of the Seneschal stretched over him in the hot midday sun. From underneath the shadow of his wide paper parasol, he watched as his apprentice shook the dead body. It would be a useful learning experience, and from the look of the man, they'd have quite the job ahead of them. He was monstrously big, even after they stripped him from his suit of armor, they'd more than likely have to divide the body for easy moving and inspection. His eyes narrowed as Puck removed the man's helm. Good bone structure too. He would make for a good instructional skeleton. But then Puck was still on his knees, trying to shake the corpse awake. \n\nIt was only when the crowd around them began to cheer that Silas realized the man's eyes had opened and his chest resumed its rising and falling. \"Oh.\" He said, putting on a smile to hide is disappointment, \"Yes, this is...\" He pursed his lips and motioned for Puck to rejoin him at his side, \"What a _marvelous_ recovery, Ser.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe Mizzen\n\nPuck held onto Sir Wendel's shoulders as he brought him into an awkward hug, allowing the young man to lean on him as he patted his back. \"Hey! It's alright, see? Taemish are tough.\" He had no clue why he was basically encouraging him, he hardly knew him, but his heart was pounding with relief as he kept patting his back hard enough to get his lungs working again. \n\nHe pulled away to hold onto the big guy's shoulders, starting to smile a little bit. \"We're stronger than that!\" He said with a tone of success, as if he hadn't been brutally beaten in the joust. He glanced back at Silas with that smile and immediately dropped it, glancing back at Sir Wendel. \"Get up, Steppes!\" He encouraged."
},
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "Ser Wendel\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nFor some reason, the Melsi boy was hugging him all a sudden—soothing him, even. He could hear a springy camaraderie in the youthful voice. He wasn't sure if he liked it; then again, after that blow to the head, he wasn't quite sure where he *Was*, either. There was a bad taste in his mouth, and though his vision was settling, he felt a sting in his eye socket. Reaching up with a ginger finger, he winced upon feeling the tenderness of a black eye. When he probed up over his brow, his finger made out the budding bruise interrupting the smooth of his forehead; it hurt like all shit, at any rate. He wasn't looking his finest, he knew ... Nor did he *Feel* His finest ...\n\nBollocks. He'd lost.\n\nNot only had he lost, but he'd lost *Brutally* To a man who wouldn't even offer up his name to be tarnished. \"Darn cheat,\" Wendel grumbled to the back of Puck's neck, his blond locks hanging down over a dingy visage. \n\nHe knitted his brows at the sight of a shadow, one belonging to a figure with very strange upper proportions. A ambulant mushroom, perhaps? Lifting his gaze, he saw that the man wasn't swollen in the upper half, just that he was holding up some odd shading thing that warped his silhouette. He saw more slices of the man through the gaps in his tangled fringe: Willowy. Hair like pitch. Cut too neat; diamond-like. Beautiful face. Terrible eyes. Who was this man? And why was he talking to the boy?\n\nThe two were pushed out of his attention by a third: the masked man.\n\n\"A fine horse and armour for me, but no feathered cap for you.\" The mystery knight held out his gauntleted hand for Wendel to clasp. \"You did well.\"\n\nWendel brushed a stray bit of hair out of his face. \"Darn right it vas.\" He took the man's hand, gently shrugging off Puck and giving his half of an effort to get himself back on two feet. He stumbled a little once he was upright, nearly toppling onto the other man. After straightening the belt of his hauberk, he placed his hands on his hips and gave the knight a once-over. \"Sank you, Ser. Hope'ly ze goot Kink'll be reasonable vis his price. But even if he empties my purse altogezer, still it vas an honour, Ser.\" He put his hand to his breast and gave a small bow.\n\n\"The honour was mine,\" The masked man replied. He took a few steps backwards, giving Wendel a single, bowing nod. \"Until we meet again.\" \n\nWith that, he turned away and began to walk back to his portcullis.\n\nWendel smiled for a moment, but it faded onceWendel brushed a stray bit of hair out of his face. \"Darn right it vas.\" He took the man's hand, gently shrugging off Puck and giving his half of an effort to get himself back on two feet. He stumbled a little once he was upright, nearly toppling onto the other man. After straightening the belt of his hauberk, he placed his hands on his hips and gave the knight a once-over. \"Sank you, Ser. Hope'ly ze King'll be reasonable vis his price. But even if he empties my purse altogezer, still it vas an honour, Ser.\" He put his hand to his breast and gave a small bow.\n\n\"The honour was mine,\" The masked man replied. He took a few steps backwards, giving Wendel a single, bowing nod. \"Until we meet again.\" \n\nWith that, he turned away and began to walk back to his portcullis.\n\n\"I've met nastier vinners,\" Said Wendel. He turned to Puck and sighed. \"Vell, young man, I suppose you've earned yourself a drink. Come.\" He glanced once at Silas."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Seneschal \nThe Pit of the Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Come, Puckgordon.\" The mage adjusted the parasol above him and turned off towards the innards of the Mizzen."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puck\nThe Mizzen\n\nPuck was glad that Sir Wendel was okay, and he was about to take him up on his offer as he hadn't really had someone to go for a drink with before, but his face fell when Silas commanded him.\n\nHe swallowed, straightening up. \"I can't. But get yourself one.\" He dug into his pocket and gave him a coin. \"Have a good one.\"\n\nWith that, he straightened his collar, following Silas into the Mizzen."
},
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "Sir Wendel\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nWendel watched him go with a perked eyebrow, then gazed at the coin in his palm. \"A'ight zen, boy. Have it yer vay.\" Looking around, he realized that he was without a squire. He was going to be back on this sand before the day was out, fighting his way through a proper, brutal melee. Perhaps he'd find a more favourable element in that than his experience so far.\n\nPicking up his helmet and whistling Blae to his side, he led his horse by the reins back indoors. Walking into the shade, he knew he should have been thinking about the upcoming battle, but all he could think about was the boy and the man who'd just walked through here. Who'd that been? His father? How did Melsi lad even end up in this claggy city of the far South?"
}
] | 213.5 | 3,599 |
568.285714 | 2021-02-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\n\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles\n\n\nJax raised his head at the sound of the crier announcing his name.\n\n\n\"I guess this is it.\" He chuckled to his two companions, \"Help me up, big guy?\"\n\n\nErik hooked his arms underneath the Eclipse and hoisted him into the destrier's saddle. Jax shifted his legs into place briefly, finding that familiar grip in his muscle memory from his academy days. Aleks stepped onto a stool and fastened the large cape emblazoned with the Crest of the Eclipse Guard. Jax caught his helmet as Erik tossed it to him.\n\n\n\"I should find my seat. Don't disappoint me, Tin man.\" His booming laugh echoed throughout the tunnels of the Mizzen, sending a horse or two skittering in their stable.\n\n\nJax couldn't help but smile at the man who's sworn to kill him one day, before returning to his helmet. He pulled the bucket over his head, and Aleks quickly fastened the last few buckles under his jaw.\n\n\n\"Flag.\" Jax said, not really being able to turn his head all the way around in the new Jousting armor, he simply called out what he needed and held out his right hand. Aleks raised the standard and pushed it into his palm, fixing the bottom into his stirrup.\n\n\n\"'urry up, Mainlander! Vhey're callin' yer name now!\" Called the crier.\n\n\n\"I'll see you out there.\" Jax called to his squire, before kicking his legs into Argon's side.\n\n\n\"Good luck...\" Aleks squeaked out as he rode through the tunnel.\n\n\nThe contrast of the tunnel to the open arena in full daylight was blinding. It made Jax squint briefly through his visor, blinking to adjust quickly. Argon kicked into speed, galloping along the walls of the arena, you wouldn't know because horses often keep to themselves, but he was excited too.\n\n\n\"Give them a show, chap.\" Jax encouraged his horse as it made the lap around the course before coming to a cantering stop in front of the King's pavilion. Jax removed his faceplate and bowed before the nobles.\n\n\"Astoria is honored to accept the King's invitation.\" He raised his head after bowing, and awaited his opponent."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nArin shook the nervousness out of his body as other people paced around. Everyone was on edge as the crowd outside began growing. He stretched his fingers before he placed the heavy gloves over them. \n\n\"Watch it, ass.\" He said, the younger man standing beside him fumbling as he picked up the glove again. \"I'm only joking. I wish I were you right now.\" He said, laughing. Arin rolled his shoulders, testing his range of motion before he had to ride. *Only a bit longer.* He thought as he listened to the crowd cheer. \n\nArin turned as the others began being announced. He was called after a brief period of time, and he glanced around. He grit his teeth together before the young teen beside him buckled the last straps on his armor on and handed him his weapon. He held it, trying to find the balance. He gave a nervous sigh before clicking his tongue and leading the horse out of the tunnel. \n\n*Gotta be a mistake. This is my opponent? Fuck me.* Arin thought to himself as he noticed the crowd settling after cheering for the last contender. He shook his head to clear his nerves and smiled as the horse beneath him began to saunter around the field. It was almost as if even the horse wanted to show off. What a sight the pair were, one a beautiful war horse bred for size and power, and the other a young pirate with stolen armor and an unknown past.\n\nThe crowd whispered as he rode past. Little kids pointed fingers, but some of the locals cheered as they realized who it was. He waved, encouraging a few of the women to throw flowers as he rode past. He laughed, his helmet hiding his excitement as he galloped past. \n\nHe patted the horse's neck as it quickly slowed to a stop in front of the pavilion where royalty now sat. He glanced over at his opponent and removed his helm, shaking his blond hair out of his eyes before looking up at the men and women seated before him. \n\n\"Thank you, Your Majesty, for allowing me to participate in this tournament.\" He said, bowing his head at Bradai Maíth. \"I accept your invitation.\" He said, smiling as he raised his head. He looked over at his opponent and another wave of nervous energy washed over him. \n\n*Fuck.*"
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Royal Balcony, the Mizzen\n\n\"I leave when I can. Vhis place, as nice as it may seem...\" He paused to consider his next words, bringing the goblet of wine to his mouth. Droplets of crimson rested on the whiskers of his mustached upper lip, \"Even when my duties become tiring, I can not simply leave. I'm not sure if your people recognize you Dennon, but—\" He laughed, throwing a hand across him, \"I 'ave found vhat even in 'eavy robes and braided beards, I can not be concealed. Vhere are too many daggers 'iding in tha shade for me, I am afraid. I would love to come to Ibeffiel, if I did not fear vhem at my back. Tha Mainland is no place for me, only at a place like tha Councils can I assure my safety. But vhen, of course, so did Anyanka Durkhan, and where is she now? Dying of infection from a wolf bite, per'aps?\" \n\nWhen the next two jousters called for his attention, he stood from his chair, leaning over the balcony. \"Well would you...\" He looked back to Dennon with a quizzical glance, \"I suppose she's fine enuff to send 'er First Knight to compete in a tourney. Queer, innit?\" \n\n\"Astoria!\" Bradai shouted, tapping his cane against the stone floor of his balcony. He placed a hand on the railing as he addressed Ser Brightwater, \"Anuvher one uff my Isle's most faifful allies. I do 'ope you give your Queen my call to arms. I expect nuffink short uff a show today, Ser. You would do well to not disappoint my people, aye?\" When he smiled, his golden eyelet tooth glistened. \n\nWhen the Islander rode up, clanking in his heavy armor, the smile faded \"What is your name, son? Is it your first time in 'e 'orse?\" \n\nThe arena began to laugh, but then folks began to shout his name. The Pirate King narrowed his eyes and gave the young man a long, hard look. \n\n\"Arin Cragton, aye?\" He nodded slowly, \"By vhe end uff vhese tilts, you'd best 'ave the entire Mizzen screaming vhat name.\" With a flick of his cane, the drums started up again, signalling the start\n\nOf the second match."
},
{
"author": "cernunnos6082",
"message": "Fogarth \"The Pipes\" Gloir, Royal Crier of House Maith\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n\"Ladies, gentlemen, and respectable rogues, be'old our second pair of gallant challengers!\" Cried the announcer. \"Vhis time, I'm pleased to say vhat I 'ave *Two* Names to sate your gnashing curiosity!\n\n\"On one end of ve fence, we 'ave in our midst a son of illustrious Astoria! Feast your eyes upon Queen Anyanka's first man, and final shield! Vhis man 'as been living by vhe sword ever since vhe golden days of Old Feyshore! Now vhat 'ee's free from ve Mad King's service, 'ee's ready to show us all a spark of vhe fresh, fiery spirit of Marin's youngest nation! Know 'is name—*Ser Jax Brightwater*!\n\n\"And at my uvver 'and, we 'ave ourselve's a Tonate man! Vhough 'ee 'as yet to make a name for 'imself among the wider folk, vhe *King* Seems to recgonize 'oo 'ee is, so 'ee must be one to watch, people! Some of you may already know him. Let's see what impressions we'll be left wiff about *Ser Arin Cragton*!\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles\n\n\nJax couldn't help but steal a glance at the boy they paired him up with. Something about him was familiar but he couldn't quite place it, his cheeks and hair had somewhat of a familiar tinge that pulled at Jax's head.\n\n\n\"Star'ing positions!\" The crier called, and it snapped Jax from his trance. He kicked his horse into gear and road to the starting point, where Aleks waited with a stool. As the boy climbed up to unclip the cape from Jax's shoulders, his mentor asked him something.\n\n\n\"Does he look familiar to you, lad?\"\n\n\n\"I didn't see him well enough, Ser.\" Aleks stepped down and pulled the standard from Jax's hand, replacing it with a fresh lance. He quickly folded the cape and set it aside, stepping to a corner and raising his hand to signify that his rider was ready.\n\n\nJax was still in his head.\n\n\n*He's so young.\n\n\nYou were his age when you joined the Kingsguard.\n\n\nThat was different, there was an academy...\n\n\nDon't underestimate him, Brightwater.*\n\n\nHe pulled himself loose just as the hornblower, well... Blew his horn.\n\nArin Cragton\nThe Spizzen, Toenail Improper Fractions\n\n\nArin looked around the crowd standing before him, admiring the sight. A mixture of cheers and boos reached his ears, and he couldn't help but smile. He noticed one of his friends, a short man with big ears that women loved to grab as they threw the pair of them out of bars, and he gave a slight nod before leading his horse to the starting point. He took a deep breath before putting on his helmet. \n\n\n*Easy Arin. \n\n\nBut he's literally a fucking knight. \n\n\nThat doesn't mean he's a good one. \n\n\nLook at his fucking armor... It's almost as bright as the fucking sun. \n\n\nThat's enough... It's all okay. Just ride steady, and take the hit. Don't fall off.* He thought to himself, having an entire argument in his head. He closed his eyes and steadied his mind, calming the raging storm that had taken over his mind before opening his eyes again. The slits between the faceplate didn't give him much vision, but he could see enough to ride. \n\n\n\nThe crier screamed, and the horse beneath Arin tore off, sprinting towards their opponent. \n\n\nIt was over before either horse or rider realized what happened. Arin coughed, all of the air in his body escaping as the collision rang out into the crowd. Arin's head lulled for a moment as he recovered, the impact having dented his breastplate. The muscle in his arm vibrated from where he had struck the other man, but he held tightly to the lance and lifted his head. \n\n\n*Again.*\n\nCaptain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\n\nJax aimed for the shield as best he could, catching it on the edge and pushing it off, the tip slid against the armor beneath.\n\n\n*Fuck! He's wearing regular armor!* Jax thought to himself as he reached the end of the lane and dropped his splintered lance to the ground. A young Islander squire already stood ready with another lance that he took, muttering a \"Thank you,\" That the child likely didn't hear.\n\n\n*Don't kill him. Hit the center of his shield, end it quickly. The more passes we take the longer his life is at risk.* Jax concluded.\n\n\nHe made a *Tsk tsk* Sound and pushed his thighs into Argon's body, the destrier kicking up dust in place as he readied. The second call came and the beast leapt forward.\n\n\nJax kept his eyes locked on Arin's shield, lowering the point of his lance. His heart pounded inside his helmet, adrenaline coursed through his veins as his next strike had the potential to seriously injure both of them. But he needed to deseat the boy, to save his life.\n\n\nThe crack of the lance rang out through the arena.\n\nArin Cragton\nThe Mitzel, Tonate Prizzle, The Southern Izzles\n\n\nArin lifted the Lance again, steeling himself. The pain had eased, leaving him with a faint pounding on his arm. He smiled as they pair lined up again, ready for the second round. He looked into the crowd for a brief moment as the other man replaced his lance. Everyone seemed to be paying attention. \n\n\n\"Riders, START!\" The crier screamed, and Arin charged, holding tightly to his lance and shield. Dirt flew as the two horses ran, and the crowd went crazy. All Arin felt was the two lances hitting their target, and then nothing. \n\n\n*A younger Arin laughed as his mother chased him throughout his childhood home. In his small hand clutched a small necklace with a beautiful ruby inlaid in gold. \n\n\n\"Damn you, Arin! Every day you act more like your ass of a father.\" She exclaimed, catching him and extracting the necklace out of his hand before placing it against her dress.\n\n\n\"Does the color match? This was the only thing your father ever gave me, but your father was never one for gifts. In fact, the only thing your father ever gave me was you.\" She said, turning to face Arin. Her face... Was blank. Featureless. As if someone took a rag to a painting and smeared the paint into a meaningless blob. \n\n\n\"My father? Who was he?\" He called out, but she faded away. \n\n\n\"Valk.\"\n\n\n\"Rin.\" \n\n\n\"Faren.\" \n\n\n\"Sun.\" \n\n\nVoices exploded in his mind, each whispering the same name. The face of the branded captain began filling his mind, before everything faded to black.*\n\n\nHe was floating. He got knocked off of his horse... But the pain wasn't in his chest this time. His arm... No his shoulder felt like it had been ripped off. He fell to the ground with a loud crash, rolling head over heels before coming to a stop. He groaned loudly before placing his hands on the ground and pushing himself up slowly.\n\n\"Fuckin' hell.\" He said, lifting his face plate and spitting a bit of blood on the ground. He looked up at his horse for a brief moment, then back at the other man.\n\n\n\"Wait..\" He said, looking back at his horse. The saddle had come loose. It was loosely hanging onto the horse by a couple of loosely tied strings. \n\n\n\"Bullshit! I tied on those myself the only way any of them would come loose is if... No fucking way.\" He said to himself, before standing up fully. \"Aye! Who the fuck messed with my fucking horse?\" He exclaimed, calling his horse over to him. He glanced over the saddle before yelling at anyone who would listen. \n\n\n\"Two of the straps have been cut. I lost for no fucking reason!\" He screamed, but the crier didn't listen before it exclaimed their winner.\n\n\n\"Fuckin' bullshit.\" He said, going to shake hands with Jax.\n\nCaptain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\n\nJax dropped his lance again at the end of the line, rearing his horse around just in case he didn't succeed. Yet he did, the boy was on the ground.\n\n\n\"Bullshit!\" Came the cry, and Jax turned to his squire.\n\n\n\"What did you see?\"\n\n\n\"You hit him, sir, bit his saddle did appear loose.\"\n\n\n*Dammit.* Jax cursed to himself.\n\n\n*Take the win, Brightwater.\n\n\nBut he was sabotaged!\n\n\n**Fucking take the win, Brightwater!***\n\n\nJax slid off of his horse, approaching the middle of the ground where the boy waited to shake his hand. He reached under his helmet, undoing the latches that held it in place. Tossing the helmet to the ground, he slapped Arin's hand away.\n\n\n\"You are a *Knight*, boy! Don't let some half-assed cheat ruin your chance at victory!\" His voice hissed between his teeth, but there was a softness to it.\n\n\n\"Your graces!\" He turned to the royal box, where the King of the Southern Isles and the King of Ibethiel sat.\n\n\n\"I humbly request our bout to continue. The boy's saddle was obviously sabotaged, let us settle the victor in a classic test of arms, free from sabotage!\" He turned to look at Arin, giving a subtle nod. \"Show me what you got, kid.\"\n\n\n\"Kick his ass, Tin man!\" Jax barely heard the booming voice of Erik in the stands as he readied himself.\n\n\nJax turned and called for his sword, drawing it from the sheath Aleks presented."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby\nThe Royal Balcony in The Mizzen**\n\n\"If the opponent is an honorable enough man to admit, I see no reason to stop them.\" Dennon gave a gesture of approval with his hand for the fight to continue.\n\n. . .\n\nOnce the action had died down enough for Dennon to continue the conversation, he turned to Bradai. \"I suppose enough people around the city at least know that I should be careful. I think Queen Lucrezia thinks more like you do. The only time she has left Ibethiel was for the Council Of Marin. Even then, if plague hadn't entered the castle, she might have stayed anyway.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nThe Mizzen\n\n*Oh good, a surprise melee.*\n\nValkrin looked for Cragton's squire to rush out with his blade, but no one came. \"The boy doesn't even have a sword.\" He pulled the amber-handled saber he carried out of its sheath, and handed it to a young guardsman to run down to Arin. \n\n\"Tell him all of the Mizzen is watching him right now, but I bet on Brightwater, so he can be a good sport.\" Valkrin sent the guard with a push, and turned his attention back to the event."
}
] | 496 | 3,978 |
320.375 | 2021-02-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Seneschal Silas Asgarov\nThe Depths of the Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nThere was something about the young Melsi boy that he found incredibly endearing. Maybe it was his Mainlander charm, or his country charm, or his jawline and fair complexion. Whatever it was, seeing him at the tourney was a pleasant reminder of his domestic life back at the manor. It was no slower than his life arranging the festival or preparing for the ball that would follow in the evening, but there was always something about a change of pace that made him long for the regular. \n\nWithin the bowels of the Mizzen, the roaring crowd was nothing more than a muffled clamoring, the incessant buzz and drumbeat that shook the cool red walls of the inner workings of the arena. \n\n\"I suppose that you felt a kinship with him.\" Silas said, wiping his hands upon an embroidered kerchief. He was thorough in his cleanliness, wrapping the fabric around every nook and cranny of his spindly fingers in an attempt to get them clean from the fine red dust and sand that covered them. \"The Taemish Knight. Did you like him?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe dEpThS of the MiZzEn\n\nPuckgordon kept his face straight as he followed Silas into the corridors. He felt... Almost uneasy to admit if he did or didn't. He took a deep breath, the sound hissing through his teeth as he followed Silas, trying to think of a good answer.\n\nHe watched the Seneschal fiddle with the red sand, and Puck looked forward once more, trying to remain devoid of most emotion.\n\n\"He's from the Steppes. We aren't that close.\" He finally answered, his hands resting on the belt around his waist that kept his surcoat snug. \"It's more like what kind of squire would I be if I didn't at least try to... Assist.\" He said quietly. \"Didn't know him long enough to *Like* Him or not.\" He said simply, swallowing whatever else wanted to spill out to spin webs of faulty excuses. \n\n\"I don't know I... Ju-\" He paused, his mouth opening as he felt something make a small crack in his mouth. He put his hand up to his mouth, looking at Silas with an *Oh shit* Look. He spat into his hand, which produced one of his canines, dislodged from him tapping his teeth together while speaking. He looked at it in minor disbelief, glancing up at Silas with a half-open mouth, displaying that his left canine tooth was indeed vacant from its necessary position.\n\n\"Uh...\" He seemed a little dumbfounded. He was old enough that these weren't kid teeth."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Seneschal Silas Asgarov\nThe Depths of the Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\nThrough slitted eyes, he watched as his apprentice spit out a tooth. \n\n\"I don't suppose that is an impermanent tooth, my young Puckgordon.\" \n\nThe concept was peculiar but not entirely alien to him. \n\n\"Was this why you were sick this morning?\" He held out his hand expectantly, as if he was beckoning to an animal to give up something he shouldn't have. \"Place it here, then. Is this what's been bothering you?\"\n\nProper dental care was not something he was a stranger to. Many of his own servants had come to him with frantic fears, having premonitions of their teeth falling out only for the dreams to be realized within the light of day. Granted, they were not as young as his apprentice, but it was not within his occupation to judge the medically deformed. Discovering and recording the malady however... \n\n\"Come.\" He said, reassuringly, \"Give the tooth to me and we can talk about it. Or something else, if you'd prefer.\" A lie, but one that would set him at ease. He wanted to talk about the boy's decaying mouth more than anything else."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe depths of the Mizzen\n\nPuck looked at Silas with uncertainty, as if he had known exactly why he'd just spit out a tooth, and was simply caught in the act. He took a deep breath, handing over the tooth to Silas with a shocked attitude, remaining silent. \n\nHe couldn't come up with a lie that would satisfy someone so intelligent. If it had been anyone else, even the king, he might have gotten away with it. \n\nThe tooth would feel too light to be a tooth, as if it were brittle and empty, eroded, although it was polished, and there was not a spot of uncleanliness on it. The root of the canine was shallow and sad, regardless.\n\nDuring the time of it all,Puck's mouth hardly bled from it. He took a deep breath. \"I don't know.\" Hesaid in his exhale, walking next to Silas a lot more stiffly, now. \"It... I don't know.\" He wanted to correct Silas about the cause and effect that he was currently hypothesizing, but doing so would only dig him into the hole of truth. He was on the cusp of it anyway.\n\n\"Sorry, Seneschal.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Seneschal Silas Asgarov\nThe Depths of the Mizzen, Tonate Proper\n\n\"My boy.\" Silas turned the tooth over in his gloved hand, inspecting the pristine whiteness of it before dropping it into one of the pockets of his azure overcoat, \"Come now...\"\n\nA hand fell over the boy's shoulder, \"You and I both know that you're not to blame for this. You can not keep teeth inside your head in the same way that I can't keep the moon from falling every night. It is as it's always been. Nature taking its course.\" He let out a puff of air and shook his head, \"Nothing to be ashamed of, my Young Puckgordon, it is simple who we are.\" \n\n\"You do not call me Seneschal. You call me Sir, or Master Silas, or Magister. Seneschal is my job. It would be like apologizing to that corn-fed Knight out there with a 'Sorry, Knight', do you understand?\" \n\nHe purses his lips and looked down at the boy. He placed a hand underneath the boy's chin and tilted his head upwards, \"Do tell me you're being honest in your statement of unwittingness, Puckgordon. If not, tell me truly. I shall investigate it if you desire, but I will be truly cross if I find out I've had my time wasted by bashfulness.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe depths of the Mizzen\n\nPuck felt some type of way when Silas put his tooth in his pocket, but he didn't dwell on that stemming discomfort as he listened to Silas chastise him about calling him Seneschal. \"Yes sir.\" He said, slurring his words as he tried to get used to the feeling of a hole in his teeth. He didn't speak to the point of if he could help it or not, either. Puck, deeply, thought maybe he could have, but he just... Didn't see it coming.\n\nHe froze as Silas grabbed his chin, his lips parting. *Fuck*, he thought to himself, his hands clenching into fists as his hair fell into his eyes. It took everything he had not to shy away from Asgarov. \n\n\"I... I'm sick. Always have been.\" He said quietly. \"There's nothing left to be done, I don't think.\" He said, trying to lean his head back to get away from the interrogation. \"Probably why they sent me off in the first place... Couldn't get rid of the problem so they just booted the whole son. An insult, to the King.\" He held a bitter smile for half a second, glancing down. \"Tossing away trash and expecting a royal to clean it up.\" He shook his head, already knowing that he was stemming off of emotions. \n\n\"Anyway, I just... I'm ill. And I always will be. I guess this is just... A new symptom.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Seneschal Silas Asgarov\nThe Depths of the Mizzen\n\nThe Seneschal's eyes lit up when Puckgordon mentioned his sickness. \"Is it... Fatal? Or did they send you to us because they thought that we might be able to cure this malady? Open your mouth, I should see the socket.\" \n\nSilas placed his hands behind his back when Puckgordon moved from his grasp, and through slit eyes he began to mutter to himself. Symptoms, diseases, past cases of Tonati coming to his King's court to beg for the court Mage's wisdom and help. \"Well I can assure you that you have nothing to fear, my young Puckgordon. Much to the contrary. I'm not sure what barbarians your father pegged us as, but I can assure you that you find yourself in the presence of one of the most eminent scholars of medicine and curative practices in the _world._\" In a smooth motion, his hands came out at his sides, fingers uncurling like the petals of a flower as his lowered his head to bow. \n\nPerhaps he was inflating his importance, but certainly he had the resources and knowledge to diagnose him, let alone cure him. When he stood to face the boy, he straightened his posture and placed his spindly hand against his chin. The sapphire against his cheek flickered wildly as he ran his eyes over him. When all else failed him, there was always the occult. \"And you are not refuse, even if they gave you away. Our King has a habit of collecting broken things and making them whole again. \" His mouth turned up into a wide smirk, \"What is a tooth, more or less? Replaceable. Our own King has golden ones, I see no reason to not give you matching set. But you say you have always been ill.\" The Mage began to strut through the sand covered floor of the torch lit hallway, into the blackness. He beckoned for Puckgordon to follow him. \n\n\"What _are_ your other symptoms? I can not mitigate them until I know what they are.\"\n\nThe Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Royal Balcony, the Mizzen\n\n\"Aye.\" Bradai said, watching as the Islander began to rant and rave to the crowd. He looked like a fool, falling off his horse the way he did. The sooner Brightwater ran him through with his lance, the better. \"Fight on.\" He waved them with his hand and made his way to sit down next to Dennon.\n\n\"Queen Lucrezia and I, finking alike?\" A raspy laugh bubbled up from his chest, \"Forgive me for laughing, Dennon, but 'ow? Yes, we're boff cautious, but vhat's only because we've killed people. Please tell me vhat's where tha similarities end.\" He glanced over at him briefly, \"Well, 'ow _is_ she, aye?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon Snæch\nThe Depths of the Mizzen\n\nPuck was a little discomforted by Silas' *Excitement* Surrounding his ailment, and he swallowed hard, becoming physically nervous, looking around, his bottom jaw quivering. He rubbed his hands together as he looked at Silas. It was obvious that his admission was not relieving in the slightest, in fact, it seemed to make him nauseous. He shook his head at the thought of just showing him his mouth, and then even more-so when he insisted on the symptoms to be told.\n\nHe did, however, listen to his master when Silas explained how the king operated with broken things. The issue with that, well, it meant that he would have had to been whole in the first place. He was fucked from the get-go. He took a deep breath, looking around again to make sure they were alone. \"Can we go somewhere more private? Please?\" The little snake seemed to loose all his gusto. He didn't know what to do with his hands, his head hung low in a sense of defeat."
}
] | 278 | 2,563 |
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{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby\nThe Royal Balcony, The Mizzen**\n\nDennon smiled at Bradai's reaction. \"I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you by comparing you to my wife,\" He said, not at all seriously.\n\n\"She's been alright since returning to Ibethiel. She's quite handsy-\" His eyes widened. \"I mean, she likes to have a hand in everything.\" Dennon quickly corrected himself. \"Yes. I think she likes having things to do. It feels more like everything is running smoothly, whereas with the plague, everything was at a standstill. Everyone is a bit tense with the mercenaries soon to go North, but the queen is very confident.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles\n\nArin couldn't help the burning sensation that began to build in his cheeks. The knight had won, simple as that. Why was he trying to risk his chance at the next round? \n\n\"Thank you.\" He couldn't speak loudly. Something had formed in his throat. He couldn't figure out if it was out of anger or embarrassment, but something felt like this was just the knight feeling sorry for him. The scars on Arin's palms began to itch as a guard walked over with a sword. \n\n\"Gift from Valkrin Farensun. Says for you to know all of tha Mizzen is watchin'. He's bettin' tha cap'n is gonna win though.\" The guard said, before turning and walking off of the field. \n\nArin took the blade, and drew it out of the sheath. He admired the handiwork. The amber handle was worn, but clean. It held a fine edge, as if it were sharpened consistently by someone who knew how to care for a blade. He turned the blade in his hand to gauge the weight. \n\n*Top heavy, but usable. Unfortunately the knight's blade was probably forged for him. I have to focus if I want to defend myself.* He thought to himself as the sunlight reflected into his eyes from the blade. He placed his helmet on his head as he readied his sword and walked towards the center of the field. He could feel the crowd's eyes piercing into his very being. \n\n\"Brightwater, was it? Thank you. I mean it.\" He said as they drew close. The crowd grew silent as the two circled each other. Arin's sword arm tensed up as his nerves began to build. The tension in the air was palpable, before with a swing of a blade, everything shattered."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\n\n\"That's 'Captain,' to you, kid, until you either kick my ass or survive.\" Jax winked with a chuckle, spinning his sword in his right hand and taking a riposte stance out of *En garde*. He looked his opponent up and down, finally close enough for a proper glance without his helmet. His armor was patchwork, it looked like bits and pieces had been accumulated over the years from different sources, even the sword was borrowed. He'd be slow, maybe even clumsy, but Jax was in no better position, wearing a suit of armor that was meant for sitting on a horse and taking hits to the shield. Jax concluded that whoever made the first move would have the upper hand, and he needed to see what this boy was capable of.\n\n\nHe leapt forward and the pair clashed blades briefly.\n\n\n*Good. How about this?* Jax thought, attacking again. The last blow striking a pauldron and bouncing off.\n\n\n*Just as I thought. Slow. Keep to your forms Jax.* He continued his assault."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nArin chuckled. \"You may be a captain out there, but to me you're nothing more than a man in a shiny suit.\" He said, catching Jax's initial blow on the flat side of his blade. With a simple push, he knocked Jax's blade aside and frowned. *He's toying with me.* He thought, before moving his sword to block an attack. A blur of silver and he caught the blade with the flat of his sword again, yet as soon as he blocked that swing another struck him. Arin grit his teeth together before flourishing his sword and switching his stance, placing his sword arm behind his left hand and lowered his weight a little. As Jax came for another strike, Arin blocked it with his armored forearm, grimacing as it carved a dent before striking quickly in return. \n\n*Just a dent. I can't feel any damage to my arm. Stupid idea, but it accomplished it's only purpose.* He thought, before quickly taking a step forward and performing two quick swings of his blade, spinning to connect the last one. \n\nThey had both taken hits, though none were serious. For every blow Jax had struck, Arin had connected one of his. Arin took a deep breath as they circled each other again. \"Brightwater! You might be decent at sword fighting, I'll give you that. Maybe we should take this a little more seriously.\" He said, smiling before drawing his blade up to his chest. He quickly began attacking, using strong blows to batter at Jax's defense. Every angle he could find, he struck at, but Jax matched him blow for blow. \n\n*Damn it. I can't break through.* He thought, swinging again. He caught one of Jax's counters and slid his blade down the edge of Jax's sword before thrusting his blade. His eyes widened as the blade didn't encounter resistance, but quickly felt why."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\n\nArin, unfortunately, fell right into his trap. The two of them had dueled, and while a few strikes had struck home, they were mainly focused around his armored chest and shoulder, for once his strange suit was an advantage. After lulling Arin to confidence, Jax moved quickly. The trap was simple, something they taught cadets at the academy during bouts. When Arin struck at him, he fainted a block, instead dropping all resistance and letting the blade fall through. A small sidestep, and a lunge, and the pommel of Jax's sword flew directly into the faceplate of the kid's helmet. He followed through, putting his whole weight into the younger man with his shoulder.\n\n\nA crash rang out, and Jax brought the tip of his blade inches from Arin as he stood over him.\n\n\n\"Yield.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nMizzen, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles\n\nArin coughed blood again, falling backwards as Jax struck him. He felt himself falling, but before he could catch himself the strong embrace of the ground had already swallowed him. Stars flickered around the edge of his vision, but he remained conscious. His sword clattered to the ground beside him. \n\nArin couldn't catch his breath. A dent had been knocked into the armor by the ground, and it prevented him from taking deep breaths, which only made him try to breath deeper. The sharp point of Jax's blade quivered right above Arin's eye, mere moments from dropping and ending his pain. Arin toyed with the notion, before exhaling. \n\n\"Last time I was in this position, it was a woman holding a knife... Not a man. I think I prefer the woman.\" He said, before glancing past the sword and looking up at Jax. \n\n\"I yield, Captain. No use dying over a simple tournament.\" He said, acknowledging Jax's win. Arin listened as the crowd roared. Many cheered, some expressed their displeasure that the Islander had lost. Arin grinned wildly though. Two great things had come about through this tournament. He now knew who his father was, and someone he could speak to about actual work was now standing in front of him. He rose slowly, taking the helmet off. He watched as Jax was led to the middle of the field, and shook his head, laughing again. \n\n*Wasn't gonna win anyways...* He thought to himself, turning to leave the field."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\n\nJax grabbed the hilt of his sword and stowed it at his side.\n\n\n\"You got spunk, kid. If you ever want to put it to good use outside of the Islands, come find me in Astoria.\" Jax said, helping the younger man to his feet.\n\n\nIt was a joyless victory, certainly lackluster compared to the previous round between the Raven Knight and the Hog Knight. Jax didn't even raise his hand in victory as they called his name, simply nodding and waving at a few select places. Aleks was waiting with Argon's lead to accompany his mentor to the catacombs again.\n\n\n\"You did well, ser.\" He attempted.\n\n\n\"Against a boy no farther in his training than you. The Southerners think so highly of themselves they put squires against the Eclipse.\" He wasn't angry, just disappointed that anyone would let something like this happen. There was a close call in the first round, and now the Pirate King toyed with the lives of children."
}
] | 247 | 1,973 |
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{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nThe Southern Isles\n\nArin brushed the dirt off of the sword he had picked up. It now held a scratch from where he had dragged it across Jax's blade. Arin picked up the sheath and slid the sword inside, clasping the leather grip closed. \n\n*Well, Captain... You win your bet.* He thought, facing the exit. He slowly walked off of the field with his head held high, comforted by the thought of the fact that people had cheered for him. \n\nHe strolled out of the court where a few of the guards had grouped, and was stopped. \n\n\"No one enters.\" A guard said, putting his hand out to stop Arin. \n\n\"I need.. To return a favor. Captain Faren-\" He got out before he was stopped. \n\n\"No one enters. Cap'n's orders himself.\" The guard said. Arin swore silently. \n\n\"I need to return his sword.\" Arin said, frustrated."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "```\nAnyanka Durkhan and Angelica Stafford \nMizzen, Royal Box, The Southern Isles. ```\n\nThe speech had stirred the tournament, and from their place outside, the roar of the crowd had still been deafening for a moment. Angelica and Anya both turned, their conversation paused for the sake of cheers. Anya raised a brow, turning back to the blonde who was still looking past her. Eric had gone on ahead of them with the others, and Jax, as usual, had disappeared to the field. The Eclipse had been the pushing factor for her participation here, and Angelica had pushed just as hard as Eric to come to the isles. For some reason, her staff really loved to be everywhere but home. They'd given her long enough to show no signed of infection from the bite, before asking about moving forward in more political nonsense. \n\nEric and Angelica, for as much as she loved them, craved expansion and stability. She could have lived her life never seeing another battle, and yet, here she was, watching as champions came together with Maith shouting for backing for a new Terresolian king. \n\n\"He'll be fine.\" Angelica insisted, her hand finding the Queen's shoulder and earning a tired glance from the comment. \n\n\"I know. You should check in on Eric, before he decides to enter himself in the Tourney.\" The Queen nodded to the box where the rest of the Astorian party was watching. It took her a moment before she finally moved into the box, stepping into the box behind the Staffords. \n\nHer hand found Angelica's shoulder, squeezing once. Angelica glanced up, patting the Queen's hand on her shoulder before leaning over to place her hand on Eric's thigh. She knew he would do fine if and when he decided to step into the field, but it didn't make her any less concerned. \n\nAfter Brightwater left the field, Anyanka stepped out of the box, heading out and down towards where they were leaving the fields."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nThe next riders were already exiting from their tunnels as the knight and his squire exited the field. Compared to the bustle of the pretourney, the catacombs were almost lax as things fell into the motions of production.\n\n\"Get this fucking thing off me.\" Jax grumbled as he stepped into his designated stable, already ripping at the buckles of his breastplate.\n\n\"Ser, you should keep it on, you have another bout.\"\n\n\"I won't fight another child!\" Jax knew his next opponent would be the Raven Knight, but he still didn't know the person's age, and didn't know who would be his opponent in the finals.\n\n\"Then... Maybe tell her that?\" Aleks nodded towards the nearby entrance, where a commotion had started. Entering the catacombs through the divide in the people, came Anya.\n\nJax and Aleks pressed their left fists to their chests, and dropped to their knees before their liege.\n\n\"Your highness, I'm surprised you came down to see me.\""
}
] | 233 | 851 |
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{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Seneschal Silas Asgarov\nThe Depths of the Mizzen\n\n\"Of course.\" The Seneschal nodded, and headed further down the hallway into the deepness of the Mizzen. His fine shoes padded lightly against the sandy floor, which absorbed all the noise of his footfalls. Although the light in the cavern like expanse grew darker and darker, the sapphire on his ring continued to glimmer as brilliantly as if they had been in the sun. Just when they were entering complete darkness, a chill filled the air. \n\n_Woosh._ \n\nOn either side of them, the torches came alight on their sconces, blazing with a soft blue flame. It provided light, but no heat. When they came upon the next set of torches, they too caught flame, and the ones behind them went out. \n\n\"How is this?\" Silas asked, his breath fogging in the cool air. \n\nThey were nowhere. Two flickering blue torches, two high bloodstone walls, a pile of crates and a single, empty barrel. Although the sounds of the tourney could be heard through the walls, the sound had grown so faint that when the crowd lulled, you could almost forget they were they were still there. Silas thought the whole affair was vaguely crypt like. It made him feel at home."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "```\nAnyanka Durkhan\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles\n```\nIt wasn't a particularly long walk from the box to the tunnels, and waiting wasn't long before the Eclipse and his companion left the tunnels. Anyanka moved from the side towards the center, watching as the two Astorian's exited the arena. Jax made a comment about fighting a child, and her brow quirked. Is that what he thought of opponents now? She'd not personally seen the fight, just the end of it when she and Angelica had slipped back into the stands. \n\nJaxs and Aleks both saluted, their hands to their chests before dropping to their knees. Anyanka paused, her hand touching Aleks' shoulder first to dismiss the solute then Jax's. \n\n\"I'm surprised to see you walking away from another round.\" She noted, then looked to Aleks briefly, her gaze lingering on the protection he'd worn. \"Lord Stafford is taking the next round, so I've been told. Are you going to be rejoining us?\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nJax stood slowly, clasping his hands behind his back.\n\n\"If I didn't know better, it almost sounds like you expected me to lose.\" He looked down at his half-assembled armor he had begun to rip away before the conversation started.\n\n\"I will be rejoining you in the box, I've decided to forfeit the tournament.\" His voice grew more solemn at the last sentence, it was certainly unorthodox for a forfeit *After* The round."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Eric Stafford\nThe Mizzen\n\nEric was watching Jax and Arin leave the field before his wife caught his attention. \"Oh, there you are, love.\" He said pleasantly before giving her a quick peck on the lips. \"That kid shouldn't have been on that field.\" Eric said gesturing toward the field, looking to his wife. \"Things like that are specifically why Robert and I specifically forbid squires from participating in these. Had someone less than honorable been out there, that kid would be dead for the sheer joy of it. Just to get the crowd excited.\" \n\nEric stood up, shaking his head. \"I believe I'm next up.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "```\nAnyanka Durkhan\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, Southern Isles \n```\n\nThe woman gave a half roll of her eyes, glancing down when he did to his garbled armor. If looked like he'd been dressed by a man who didn't know what armor was or how it was supposed to go, and was working on five seconds of seeing a knight in person. \n\nShe gave a sigh, stepping forward and pulling loose the buckles to remove the breastplate he had been fighting when she arrived. Once removed, she rested a palm on the back of the piece, warm still from where it sat against the man. The other hand moved her middle and forefinger along the Eclipse emblem, a path of clean metal left where her fingerpads picked up the dust. \n\n\"I never expect you to lose.\" She countered. \"If I didn't have faith in you and yours I'd be one foolish Queen to have you heading my guard.\" She lifted her attention to him once more, passing the breastplate back to him and turning, her heel kicking up dust in the stable. \n\n\"Good,\" She started, heading back towards the box she had left a moment before. \"We have things to discuss before Stafford tries to drag us into something more than just child's play. I'm sure Maith will be sharing a meal with us soon enough, I'd like to assure my team is all on the same page when we do.\""
}
] | 220 | 1,044 |
713.428571 | 2021-03-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nJax took the breastplate briefly, passing it on to his squire.\n\n\"Make sure everything is packed, and feed Argon before dismissing yourself.\" Aleks nodded in response, saluting again.\n\nJax didn't take the time to dress again, closing the distance behind his queen, still half dressed in his armor.\n\n\"He was just a boy, Anya, no more older than Aleks. If the Pirate King wants to play with the lives of children, I will not be party to their execution.\" He was mainly muttering to himself, trying to justify the hit his honor will take for surrendering the competition."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "```\nAnyanka Durkhan\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n```\n\nThe sound of footsteps caught up quickly, and she dropped her pace just enough to let him gain on her before matching once more. Her arm fed into the space between his arm and side, hooking in the crook of his elbow as they walked. \n\n\"Maith seems to think children going to battle is a rite of passage.\" She reminded him, thinking on how Mikhail was very likely going to volunteer himself to fight alongside the Maith bannermen despite her pleas not to. Technically, she could forbid it, but she knew her son and his loyalty to Maith. As much as she hated it, it nearly outpaced his loyalty to her. If he was charmed by Maith and the idea being battle hardened would make him a better king she doubted she'd be able to convince him otherwise. \n\nShe didn't dislike the Pirate King, but they disagreed in matters like this. Their alliance held out of mutual respect, but could use a good rekindling. Maybe this trip to the isles would help- or maybe it would just infuriate her fellow Astorians. \n\n\"You won't be dishonored for refusing to take up arms against a boy, Jax, don't fret over it.\" As she spoke, they made their way back to the box, and she could see Stafford rising, murmuring something to his wife. \n\n\"How long do you think his opponent will last, about as long as yours?\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Captain Jax Brightwater\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nJax shifted his elbow to make an easier rest. Matching his pace to Anya.\n\nAs they approached the box he nodded at the Eclipse stationed on either side who saluted them, quite proud at the discipline the newest recruits showed.\n\n\"It may not dishonor me directly, but surely this could be seen as a slight against the local government and their... Festivities.\" He recalled the execution at the start of the day.\n\nHe noticed Eric as well, smiling at the thought of finally seeing his comrade in action.\n\n\"If our Lord Stafford is half the knight I've heard of in the stories, the next opponent doesn't stand a chance.\" He beamed at the Lord of South Feyshore. \"Don't embarrass our Queen after my spectacle, My Lord.\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "```\nAngelica Stafford\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n```\n\nEric had turned, kissing her quickly before gesturing to the field. Her own shoulder raised in a shrug. The South Feyshorian policies on youth and training were different than other places she'd lived, but she wasn't quite convinced this was intentional. \n\"It seems unlikely the boy was intentionally chosen to fight. More likely something else has happened here. Even if you and Cromwell allowed squires the opportunity to compete in something like this, you'd think you'd have spent time assuring they wouldn't embarrass us.\" Her voice was low, not particularly caring if anyone else in the box overheard, but the conversation wasn't really open for someone else to pique up into. \n\n\"Besides, Maith doesn't seem the type to host and intentionally throw a shit-shot squire into the field.\"\n\nEric stood, and when she watched him do so, movement caught her eye just behind them. The Queen had returned, her arm in the possession of the Eclipse Captain. It wasn't an unusual sight, as just about every time she saw the pair now they were intertwined in some kind of way. The woman certainly had a type. \n\n\"Congratulations, Captain Brightwater, though they probably feel tainted.\" Angelica offered, moving to stand at the change of guard in the box from her husband to the Eclipse. \"He won't embarrass us, or he'll have me to answer to after.\" A jest, but a little truthful.\n\n```\nAnyanka Durkhan\nThe Mizzen,Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n```\n\nAnyanka couldn't really argue the point it might come across as a slight. It was something to be handled later, after the tournament was won. Hopefully Stafford would pull through and any offense given would be replaced by victory instead of it tainting it for the Astorians. \n\nNot that they had come for the fights anyway. \n\nThey returned to the box as Eric was preparing to leave, and Anyanka caught the tail end of Angelica's opinion on the last match. So it seemed it was already starting gossip. Her lips pursed, dropping Jax's arm to offer Eric's a pat. \n\n\"You'll do wonders, Eric. Keep sharp, you don't have to worry about embarrassing me, just don't embarrass your wife.\" Angelica gave a sharp laugh at that."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nThe Mizzen\n\nAs one of his men reported they'd stopped the Cragton boy on his way up, Valkrin stepped out of the balcony, and instructed they drag the boy up to him. \n\n\"Excellent loss, boy. You've made me a sight wealthier.\" Valkrin patted the boy's face twice, reaching farther back and closing his fist before striking Arin on the jaw. \"But you've embarrassed the Isles, and the King at that, so you can understand why you deserve this.\" He hit the boy a few more times, then produced a rag from his pocket, wiping the blood off his knuckles. \n\n\"You can give me my blade back now, and I'll cut you in on my earnings because of that beautiful loss.\" The captain chuckled and lit one of his cigars."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Puckgordon\nThe Depths of the Mizzen\n\nPuck followed diligently as Silas lead him through the winding halls, the torches glowing ethereally certainly washed Puck with a sense of dread. Although, in the end, Puck felt ten times more comfortable within the confines of morbid dark and unnatural light than in the sun and sweat of the arena or stables. \n\nPuck took a deep breath, slowing and stopping before the blue light kissed the edges of his clothing, still wrapped in the dark like a mother's warmth. His blue eyes reflected in the torch-light, making them twinkle and shift, standing out from his pale complexion and dark surcoat. \n\nThey stood in silence for a while, Puck just watching the Seneschal who seemed right at home, perhaps even excited. Puck knew that Silas was a man of science, and the deepest, darkest science there would be, but still, in the end, Puck liked him. Even if the affection wasn't true, even if Silas hurt him, he still was the only one to care for the Melsi.\n\n-\nPuck inhaled as he tried to wrap his mind around the words he wanted to say to funnel them out from between his pursed lips, the edges of his mind had frayed, and words still tried to escape him before he could say it.\n\n\"My full name is Puckgordon Havel Dead-speaker Snæch.\" He started, stepping into the light and brushing his hair back nervously as his hushed tone seemed to mute itself on the red walls of the Mizzen.\n\n \"And the dead visit me in my dreams.\" He took another deep breath. \"I've always seen them since I could remember, sir. When I was little, I screamed at the top of my lungs until they bled, watching men and women claw at my legs... But screaming got me in trouble, so... So I just... Bottled it in, but the... The sensation was still there. So I would Uhm... Puke. Instead. I don't sleep if I can help it, but when I do sleep, it ends the same way every time, and my mind doesn't seem to get used to it. Even after all these years, the fear remains the same...\" He glanced down, looking ashamed and embarrassed. \"The only one that really talks to me, that I'm not afraid of, is the Puckgordon before me. The one I told you I uh... I poked.\" \n\nPuck was uncomfortable, fiddling with a thread at the edge of his sleeve. \"I've just dealt with it... But I think I've puked so much my tooth fell out.\" He brought up his shoulders as a shiver traveled down his spine. \"I... I'm sorry, I think... I think I just keep getting worse. My mother tried doctors to shamans, but in the end, I think she just gave up.\"\n\nNo wonder this boy acted as vicious as he did, being neglected and left to speak to the dead that gnawed at the edges of his mind whenever he closed his eyes."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nLibertalia Fortress, Uncharted Waters\n\nDeep in the bowels of the great fortress that overlooked Libertalia, Herin Farensun took a look inside a small wooden box. It was small, fitting easily inside one's pocket. It had a strange shape, almost like a miniature coffin, a custom made parcel for a very special item. Putting it in his breast pocket, he turned the doorknob and stepped into the dungeons beneath the great fort. He was going to deliver a present.\nThe fortress itself was an impressive thing, literally carved into the side of the small mountain that overlooked Libertalia. Full of hidden rooms and storages for everything from wine to weapons, it was a final bastion against any invaders, one that it's original owners never got to use. Herin found the irony funny, putting so much time and money into making a completely hidden fortress, built in a place that was nearly impossible to invade, and then dying before you ever got to use it.\nThough Herin did wonder why they thought they would need such extensive dungeons in a secret hide-away. However, when he put more thought into it, it seemed quite logical. Hiding away on an island, mutiny becomes more and more likely the more time you spend trapped in this fort. Your allies are only allies until the food runs out.\n\nThe stairs took him deep into the depths of the mountain, the walls little more than carved rock, fungi and cobwebs dotting the crevices like blemishes on the stone skin of the stairway. He finally arrived at a massive steel door, guarded by two men in full plate armor.\nThese men were his most trusted lieutenants, for they were true believers. Other scags fought for coin, or revenge, or just because they thought it was fun, but these men truly believed that they fought for a greater purpose. When Herin gave his speeches to the troops, speaking of freedom from oppression, a return to greater days, these two ate up every word he said. To them, he was a prophet, a messiah. That made them fools in Herin's eyes, but useful fools.\n\n\"How is his work going?\" Herin asked to the leftmost guard.\n\n\"He's... More relaxed, sir.\" The man replied, looking through the cracks in the top of the door to check on their 'guest'.\n\n\"Relaxed? I asked for how his work was going, not the man himself.\" Herin snapped at the guard. \"You know what 'relaxed' means? It means lazy.\" \nTaking a key from a chain around his neck, Herin unlocked the metal door, the massive object resisting his efforts as best it could, squeaking as it opened. \n\"You both are dismissed.\" \n\nWithout another word, the two guards disappeared up the stairs. Herin was now alone in the dungeon, save for the man who perhaps hated him more than anyone else in the world.\n\nAmbrose Cainum was a brilliant man, an alchemist who was famed for his genius and incredible creations. He once worked in the highest court of Araedia, at the behest of royalty. But he left that life behind to raise his daughter, the apple of his eye. He moved to the coast, away from prying eyes, living off the land. The only alchemical experiments he did anymore were the meals he cooked for him and Eva, his daughter. Only 9 years old, and a budding genius in her own right, at least according to him. He planned on getting old and dying in obscurity, watching his daughter grow up, and leaving this world fulfilled. \nNow, he labored in this makeshift workshop in the darkest bowels of a pirate fortress, working at the behest of a madman in a golden mask. He wasn't allowed any blades or sharp objects for fear he might turn them on himself, so his beard had become a scraggly mess over the past months. Sweat dripped from his brow as he looked over the flaming reaction of his latest experiment. Grabbing a glass of water from the table beside him, he poured it over the orange flames, and swore wildly as they died in a pillar of smoke.\n\n\"Another failure, Ambrose?\" Came a voice from beside him. \n\nAmbrose turned, his mouth hanging open in fear for a moment before he forced himself to adopt a more calm expression. It was him, the man who burned his home, who stole his daughter and his freedom, who locked him down here to work on his weapons of war. He only knew him as \"Sir\", but he had his own name for him, one used behind his back, \"Monster\". \n\n\"The process is complex, sir. You're asking for something that's impossible! The fact that I've managed to-\"\n\n\"Never tell me what is impossible, Ambrose. What I asked of you should be very simple for someone of your skills. And yet, you continue to fail me in this, why?\" Herin paced the length of the table, making his way towards Ambrose slowly. \n\n\"I-I assure you I'm doing my best, It's just the conditions you offer-\"\n\n\"Am I not generous enough Ambrose? Do I not give you what you ask for? All your materials and ingredients, tools for your lab, have I not been understanding?\" Herin spoke angrily, walking towards Ambrose with purpose, the older man flinching, moving his hands to cover his face.\n\"Perhaps you are right... I have not done all I could to encourage you, Ambrose, and I apologize for that. How can one be expected to do the impossible without proper motivation?\" \nHerin took the small wooden box from his pocket and placed it on the table.\n\"A gift, for you, from your daughter. Hopefully it helps you focus on your work.\"\n\nAmbrose looked at the box, a mixture of confused and terrified. He didn't dare open it, his hands were still shaking, the sweat on his brow like a tidal wave rushing down his face. \n\n\"Come on then, open it.\" Herin said, standing behind Ambrose, guiding his hands towards the small box. He placed the alchemist's leathered hands on the top of the small, casket-like container, and let go. \"Open it Ambrose, it's rude to refuse a gift.\"\n\nAmbrose held his eyes shut, and opened up his gift. When he opened his eyes, he screamed, falling to his knees in tears. Inside the box was a small human finger. \n\n\"Motivation, Ambrose, that's what you lacked. I thought your daughter would provide that, knowing your work kept her safe, but apparently I was wrong.\"\nHerin kept walking around the table, looking at the glass tubes and bottles that held the alchemist's work. \n\"I've been kind to you Ambrose, I've kept my word. I never harmed your daughter, I fed her and kept her safe from my men. I even let you see her every week, just to make sure she was still in good health. And what did I get in return?\"\nHerin stood over the blubbering figure of the alchemist, rage in his eyes. \n\"FAILURE! Day after day, you give me nothing but excuses, nothing but failed experiments and half-hearted apologies. I wondered why a man of your genius had such trouble with such simple demands, but then I realized... You think you're protecting her.\"\n\n\"That illusion breaks today. Every two weeks that go by without progress, I take another finger from your daughter. Then toes, then I start to cut off her face. Piece. By. Piece.\" \nDropping the box on the ground, Herin stood up. Ambrose began to regain his composure, tears still in his eyes as he got to his knees, his face now a mixture of abject fear and rage. \n\n\"YOU BASTARD! SHE'S A CHILD!\" Ambrose charged forwards, grabbing Herin by the collar and raising up a fist to attack him. He was going to kill this monster, end his reign right here in this lab, the guards wouldn't get here in time, he could do it, he could end him and no one could stop him. \n\nAs if reading his mind, Herin simply spoke as Ambrose held his fist inches from the Hanged Captain's golden mask. \n\"But it wouldn't save her, would it? You could kill me, but she'd still die. And let me assure you, she'd die painfully. There are a lot of *Nasty* Men in my crew, men even *I* Despise for their abhorrent behavior, and without me to protect her... Well, It's best not to discuss those things.\"\n\nOnce again, Ambrose dropped to his knees, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Herin smiled behind his unflinching gold mask, and walked past the sobbing figure towards the exit.\n\n\"Remember Ambrose, your work will free the isles.\" Herin chuckled cruelly as he said that, perhaps laughing at Amrbose's misfortune, or the words themselves. \n\n\"Liar.\" Ambrose spat, still on one knee, but leaning on the desk to keep himself upright.\n\nHerin spun around, marching towards Ambrose with rage in each step\n\"What did you just say? You should mind your tongue, Ambrose, unless you want it cut out!\"\n\nAmbrose looked the Hanged Captain dead in the eyes, there was fear there, yes, but also a burning ember of defiance, just enough for this one last act against him.\n\"You're a liar, *Sir*, the only thing I can't tell is if you believe your own lies or not. You speak of freedom, yet deal in slaves. You call Maith a tyrant, but look at yourself! You're worse than you say he is!\"\n\nHerin stood in silence for a moment, fists clenched, rage visible in his eyes, peering out from behind his mask like blue embers. Then, as quickly as his rage came, it disappeared. He stood in front of Ambrose, the very image of calm, and then he laughed. \nA short laugh, the kind one reserved for jokes that weren't quite funny, but still amusing in some way\n\n\"You really are a smart one, Ambrose. Smarter than most men I employ. So maybe you deserve to know the truth.\"\n\nAmbrose was startled, he expected a reaction, but not one like this. What was this game he was playing? Was it a game?\n\n\"Tell me what you know of the Tide Barer.\" Herin asked, looking at the shocked Ambrose\n\n\"H-he's the god of the Isles, he-\" Ambrose began to stutter more of his answer, but Herin interrupted\n\n\"No, Ambrose, he isn't anything, anything except dead, that is. He is worshipped as a god, yes, but he was simply a man, like you or me.\" Herin picked up a bottle of some strange liquid Ambrose was using, looking through the glass before putting it back down. \"It was his deeds that made him great, that brought him to the level of a God. That, Ambrose, is true power. Not the power he wielded in life, no, but the power of perception, to alter how men see you, how they see themselves.\"\n\n\"You called me a liar, a hypocrite, for speaking of freedom while selling men into slavery, but tell me this, what is the difference between a free man and a slave?\"\n\n\"A free man works by choice, a slave has none.\" Ambrose replied.\n\n\"Really? Tell me, what happens if a man in Maith's fleet refuses to follow orders? Do they simply let him stand there? Or do they flog him, or execute him for mutiny? What happens when the peasants farming the lord's land refuse to work? Are they allowed to do so, or do they send in the knights to brutalize them for their resistance?\"\n\n\"But they are paid, a slave isn't! You can't simply justify what you're doing with your twisted logic!\" \n\nIgnoring his accusations, Herin continued. \"Paid? Yes, but what for? Paid enough to buy food and shelter, things a slave is already given. The only difference between freedom and slavery is perception, the fact that one believes himself free and the other knows he is a slave is all that divides the two.\"\n\nAmbrose shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just heard. These words were those of a madman, that was for certain. \n\"So is that your point? That we're all slaves, so it doesn't matter if you sell people like animals?!\"\n\nHerin laughed again, a mocking laughter, directed at Ambrose.\n\"Oh Ambrose, so smart, yet so simple. No, you were right the first time. Freedom, slavery, they're just words, meaningless dirvel we peddle to convince men to fight. You know how easy it is to convince people to die for you? All you have to do is mention their 'freedom' being in danger, and they'll line up for the slaughterhouse. I simply want to control what really matters, their perception.\"\n\nHerin seemed to dominate the room, standing over Ambrose, it was like he was a giant, a demon out of myth, reaching for his soul. \n\"And the most powerful tool to control perception is myth, legends, *Godhood*.\"\n\n\"Y-you think you can become a god?\" Ambrose almost laughed, he really was mad.\n\nFast as lightning, Herin grabbed the man by the throat, slamming him against the wall.\n\"No, Ambrose, I simply know I will be perceived as one. I will be the next Tide Barer, the great liberator of the Isles, and you will help me do it.\"\n\nHe let go, dropping Ambrose to the floor. The older man coughed violently, holding his neck. \n\"You think me insane Ambrose? Fine, just remember that this madman controls whether your daughter lives or dies.\"\n\nTurning from the frail figure of the alchemist, Herin walked to the door, stopping at the threshold for one last look at the old man. \n\"You should be honored, Ambrose, not everyone gets to be touched by God.\"\n\nThe metal door slammed, and Ambrose was left alone in the dimly lit dungeon, only the sound of his own coughing and the skittering of the rats. As he returned to his work, he broke down in tears again, his last ounce of hope finally lost. He and his daughter were the prisoners of a madman, a demon playing god, and he was going to help him burn down the heavens."
}
] | 316 | 4,994 |
425.5 | 2021-03-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith\nThe Southern Isles\n\nThe Pirate King had remained silent for the entire round. The boy had certainly put on a show. \n\nWhen Ollie came to the side of his chair, Bradai waved him in with two fingers. His secretary knelt down just long enough for something to be whispered into his ear. \n\n\"I will notify the Captain and his men, your Grace.\" Ollie began, pulling out his wooden board, untacking a sheet of parchment from it, and scrawling on a quick note, with a series of hatch marks and symbols with a thin piece of charcoal. The symbology did not resemble anything remotely similar to the Commontongue. Then the boy paused, remembering something, and rattled it off quickly in the foreign tongue. To the untrained it, it sounded like garbled speech, words slung together hastily, some words from the Old Grand, some Commoned, some Petaled, and some entirely unique. When the Pirate King nodded, a slow smile crossed his face. \n\n\"Well, I _will_ be damned.\" He said, sitting back in his chair. \"It would appear vhat tha Duchess uff Astoria is not dead uff infection.\" His tone was wry. \"She's 'ere wiff 'er court and 'er royal son.\" That was what had interested him. If Anya had really not wanted the boy to go to war with Caderyn, then why would she bring him? Angelica, most likely. He would have to talk with her. Loyalty was rewarded.\n\n_Perhaps he's here to see the show._ he thought, sitting up in his chair to look upon the lists. The broken saddle was still there.\n\n\"GIT THAT SHITE AFF THE DAMN FIELD! A MAITH COMMANDS IT! IF 'AV TAE GO DOWN THERE MASELF A' SWEAR TO THA _TIIIIDES_ A'LL AV YEAR EARS FOR IT!\" \n\n\nBradai watched as his sister bounded from her chair, gripping the railing and shouting down at the squires below. Frothy spit shot from her mouth as a mane of wild red curls shook around her head like an angry ball of flame. The crowd erupted in raucous cheering. Just as soon as she mentioned it, it was gone, the lists raked, the horses drawn to the stables within the ground layer of the arena. \n\n\"Gitten.\" Bradai said softly, \"You've made your point. Sit down and relax. Vhis is no time for—\" \n\n\"For a pompous, cocksure, Feyshoreman Mainlander prick tae come tae our Isles n knock the smallest welp from 'is 'orse? 'oo let that boy oot on the field? Wis it ye?\"\n\nAlthough she was making a fool of herself in front of some of his most prestigious guests, even though she had interrupted him, even though she had more or less just insulted one of their greatest allies, there was something about his sister he had come to enjoy. Even if a million Islande were made fools of today, he would have his sister to whip them into shape. Arin Cragton would be pulling an oar soon enough. He hid his smile behind the dense thicket of his dark red beard. \"Do I look like tha kind uff man to be arranging lists, Gitten? Does it seem fit vhat a King should arrange 'is own tourney?\" \n\n\"Well, whatever ae yer men that did should be shot n' paraded around this city as a warning to any future festival arrangers. Mutinous scum that they are.\" \n\nBradai watched as the Eclipse banner unfurled over the edge of the arena, to signal the win of Ser Jax Brightwater of Zahrada. \n\n\"Aye.\" _That,_ Bradai thought, _I can not argue with._ \n\nShe spit on the ground, crossed her arms, and fell back into the high backed chair placed a foot and a half behind the row of Kings. \n\n\"Dennon, Caderyn, 'ave you 'ad tha pleasure uff meeting my sister, First Admiral Gitten Maith, uff my royal navy? She 'as a knack for mistaking treason with mutiny, but ovher vhan vhat, I assure you she's as sweet as a peach.\" The Pirate King shook his head and looked out onto the crowd, idly lifting a hand as a lit cigar was deposited into his hand. He stuck it in the side of his mouth and puffed at it."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby\nThe Royal Balcony, The Mizzen**\n\nDennon watched quietly as the duel for which he had signaled his approval resulted in an absolutely pathetic loss for the Islander boy. Part of him wished he hadn't said yes for the embarrassment it might have saved, but then he might have seemed like stick in the mud. He thought he saw Bradai lean over a couple times to whisper things, but had no certainty as to what it could be for. The king only hoped that it wouldn't be another public execution.\n\nThe tension was broken by the shouted orders of a brash woman nearby on the balcony and a subsequent exchange with their host. The king recalled her unmistakeable presence from the council dinner at Castle Grunewald. She seemed like would be fun to have at a party, though perhaps observed from a distance. The Pirate King then introduced her as his sister. Dennon stood up from his seat to greet the esteemed woman with a smile. \"I don't think we have met officially until now. It's a pleasure, first admiral. I'm Dennon- or rather, King Dennon of Ibethiel.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nThe Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper\n\nIt was a familiar smell that had lured her in, her stomach growling. The lingering smell of fried cooking oil, along with the smell of spiced cider and fresh fruit pastries. The smell of cinnamon and sugar, though it was somewhat stifled by the pungent smell of beer. \n\nShe stepped aside as the men lumbered past her. Truth be told, she was happy to see them leave, both because they were disgusting brutes and because she was now further ahead in the line. \n\nHer dark eyes lit up at the sight of Noma, giving a warm smile to the man that had saved her life. She still didn't have much to smile about these days, but around Noma, it was virtually impossible not to smile! His laughter was infectious!\n\n\"Anyone that doesn't return to try some of your cooking is a fool,\" She replied with a grin. 'I haven't had any cooking as good as yours in a *Long* Time. And this time, I can actually pay!\" \n\nShe rummaged through the purse that was tucked into the folds of her skirts and produced a handful of coins, sliding them across the counter to Noma with a proud look on her face. \"I'll take slice of bowl of stew in one of those bread trenchers and a slice of pie.\""
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nThe Mizzen \n\nValkrin scoffed as the boy gurgled out his words, blood dripping from his mouth. \"Did what you could? It was no man?\" He squatted down in front of Arin, grabbing the boy's surely broken jaw. \n\n\"If your opponent is still breathing, then you haven't done all you can. Especially if you're still breathing afterwards, then you're a coward.\" \n\nHe took a puff of his cigar, blowing it in Arin's face. \"I've never left a man breathing, lost plenty of fights, but the other man always died.\" If he thought hard enough, Valkrin could probably remember the faces of every man he'd killed, though the fact they'd died meant their faces weren't worth remembering. \n\n\"Now, we're gonna fuck you up a bit more, to make sure the lesson sticks. You'll go the rest of your days thanking Ol' Captain Farensun for sorting you out.\" He motioned with his hand for his guards to continue beating Arin. Not to death, but as close as any mortal man could go without crossing."
}
] | 261.5 | 1,702 |
308.75 | 2021-03-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nThe Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\n\"Not only a returning customer, but a *Paying* Returning customer!? Allow me to give you the VIP treatment!\" He chuckled as he slid the coins across the counter and into his palm.\n\n\"I have a great treat for you today! In the Witherlands I had to carry *Powdered* Ingredients.\" He made a dramatic vomiting motion at the word \"Powdered,\"\n\n\"My trenches were edible, but they were hardly delectable.\" He reached under his main cooking counter to reveal his treasure. It was a barrel filled with some kind of yellow paste.\n\n\"Behold! My precious butter.\" He was very proud of his acquisition of a single barrel of the stuff.\n\n\"It cost me a fortune to transport this one barrel from Ibethiel. The difference is so obvious you'll never want anything without fresh butter again! When you put it in the pie crust, the flakes just...\" He put his fingers to his mouth and kissed them loudly as he brought them away, \"Divine.\"\n\nHe wasn't lying. The difference between powdered milk and butter was the reason local restaurants beat him out in business so many nights, but the festival was his turf, and he'd have the best food around.\n\nHe quickly shaped a roll of dough before it went into the oven to make his trencher, and sighed as he exchanged the tray of bread for his dessert tray. He took extra care plating Caterina's dish, having his own reputation to uphold. The berries of the pie fell outward in a picturesque cascade as he slid his knife free, the trencher was golden brown in color; the stew that held a brown flavor made a great contrast to it.\n\nNoma placed the ladle in the heart of the bowl, and let the soupy broth overflow against the bread.\n\nNoma laid the custom plate on his serving counter, adding the flourish of an Orange Peel atop the trencher, like he did in their first meeting. He smiled at Catarina, bowing semi-gracefully after the act.\n\n\"I hope this meal holds up to the last one, Milady!\" He smiled brightly at the woman."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nThe Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper\n\nHer stomach growled again as she eyed the steaming bowl of stew and the pie, whose flaky crust was overflowing with still-warm, thick, decadent berries. Months—really, a few years now— of near starvation had given her a new appreciation and love of food. The fact that she could afford this was a gift!\n\nShe returned his smile and then happily dug in, first taking a bite of the rich stew. It was still hot, so she burned her tongue on it, but you wouldn't know it by the look on her face. Her eyes were closed, the slightest hint of a smile on her face as she savored the incredible flavors.\n\n\"Better than I remembered, M'lord,\" She said finally, opening her eyes again to shoot him a cheeky smile. The compliment was genuine, however."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nSouthern Isles\n\nAnother fist connected to the side of Arin's face, but the pain was fading, replaced by a newfound sense of rage. This was his father, and he was ordering his own son to be beaten. Arin grimaced, his jaw bone loosely connected to his face by a collection of sinew and muscles. \n\nHe murmured as another fist connected, both of his eyes trying to swell shut. He forced himself to speak, his words coming out slurred. \n\n\"Coward? The only coward I see here is you, *Captain*.\" He said, spitting on the floor. His vision blurred as he was kicked in the back of the head, and the boot of the man behind him began forcing his head lower and lower, but Arin forced his mouth closed and strained his arms as much as he could. The pain fueled his rage, forcing his arms to pull together. The men snatched him backwards, and the guard in front of him wrapped his fingers around a small piece of metal. Arin's eyes widened, but the fear quickly faded.\n\n\"Four.. Four against one. Yet... You call me coward?\" He said, before the man's fist connected and everything exploded into a connection of stars and darkness. Blood dripped out of various cuts, and seeped out of his mouth, creating a small river that led down his chest and puddled on the floor in front of him. Arin couldn't force his eyes open any longer, but another hit forced him awake again, creating new waves of pain. His head lulled at his chest, and Arin couldn't find the strength to pick it up."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nThe Mizzen \n\n\"Tell me honestly, boy, where was all this during your bout with Brightwater?\" Valkrin was impressed by the beating this kid could take, but that left him with questions about the match. \n\nHe walked over and took Arin's right arm from the guard holding it. \"Four to one might be cowardice, but honor is for men far nobler than I.\" He finished his sentence with a quick twist of the boy's arm, snapping the bone. \n\n\"And with such a lofty opinion of yourself, I'm gonna have to make sure you won't walk so tall for awhile.\" He grabbed Arin's left leg, and stomped until he heard a crunch. \n\nPulling out a few gold coins, he handed them to one of his guards, instructing the men to drag the boy to the nearest doctor and pay for treatment. \"And before I forget,\" He said, reaching back into his pocket, \"This here's the boy's cut.\" Valkrin handed his guard Arin's money and sent them off. Wiping any blood he still had on his hands off, and stepping back into the Royal Balcony."
}
] | 293.5 | 1,235 |
1,188.666667 | 2021-03-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nThe Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nNoma raised an eyebrow at the name drop.\n\n\"I had no idea you were familiar with Dirk! In fact the lad just dropped me off yesterday! Do give him my thanks when you see him again, and ignore any mention of my 'exceeding debt.' It's all mularkey I assure you.\"\n\nAs the pair were sure to find out, \"Farensun,\" Was actually a common name here in the festival. However Noma laughed in blissful ignorance to the blunder."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nThe Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper\n\nHer brow furrowed slightly in confusion at the name 'Dirk'. She didn't think she knew anyone named Dirk? Unless Valkrin went by another name or had a nickname she was unaware of? No, she *Highly* Doubted that. The man certainly didn't seem like the nickname type. Not to mention the fact that the idea that this boisterous, lovely man before her would have anything to do with Valkrin simply did not compute. She certainly hoped he didn't have any debts to Valkrin! Valkrin tended to take them back, with interest. A little panic rose in her chest at the thought of Noma's debt, though she tried to keep herself calm and not show her worry. \n\n\"I'm not familiar with Dirk,\" She said rather hesitantly. \"I work for a different Farensun. Perhaps they're related somehow? It's a rather unusual last name.\""
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nLibertalia, Uncharted Waters\n\n\nSince Herin's last visit, Ambrose had been working non-stop on the project for months. He hadn't gotten any more \"Gifts'' from Herin since the first one. In that time, he had made great progress on his work. He took a vial of black liquid from his table, and poured it into a steel bucket filled with water. He held a torching over the bucket, and when the first ember touched the black sheen on the water, it exploded into flames. Putting the torch away, he picked up another bucket filled with water, and brought it towards the flames. This was the moment of truth, to see if his creation would succeed or fail. He dumped the water onto the floating inferno, and covered his face as a plume of smoke rose to greet him.\nWhen the smoke cleared, the crackling fire was gone, leaving only a slick surface of black oil.\n\nAmbrose slumped against the wall, watching the bucket blankly. All this work, for nothing. He had made progress, yes, but would it be enough to spare his daughter from the masked man's wrath?\nIf he ever did complete this project, he wondered what Herin would do with him. He had long ago abandoned the idea of surviving this. Herin couldn't let him leave with the secret of this fire in his head, nor could he keep him here without risking an escape. Most likely he'd be forced to give up the recipe and then be killed. But perhaps Herin would let his daughter live, that was what kept him going, the hope that this work would buy his daughter's life. He hated himself for ever dabbling in alchemy, the pain it had brought him and his daughter was too much to bear. He could only hope that Eva survived to forgive him for his foolishness one day.\n\nIn the months since the Hanged Captain told him the truth of his designs, Ambrose had been plagued with that knowledge, listening to the conversation in his head over and over. He at first dismissed Herin's ravings as simple madness, but he had slowly begun to think otherwise. He still believed, no, *Knew*, the man was mad, but his plans were not.\nHe had heard that there were other Tide Barers before, but these were simply men using the iconography of divinity to add legitimacy to their raids or petty claims of land. What Herin spoke of was a true successor, a new Divine of the Isles. But how could someone achieve such influence? Even Bradai Maith didn't have the power, or perhaps the gall, to declare himself the heir to the Tide Barer. What did Herin have that made him think that would go any differently?\n\nHis thoughts were interrupted by the man himself, striding through the door with another man at his side. Ambrose turned his head to look at the newcomer. He was a raider, that was for certain, but he looked more... Dignified than most others who sailed under that flag.\n\n\"Ambrose, any progress this week?\" Herin asked, gesturing to the flaming bucket in the corner. \n\nAmbrose rose to his feet slowly, his knee was giving him trouble lately. \n\"Yes, I believe I've come close to finalizing the recipe. It's not perfect, it can still be put out with water, but with more time I co-\"\n\n\"More time? You've had quite enough of that, I think. You might not understand this Ambrose, but I'm working on a tight schedule, and your work is starting to interfere with that. Any further work on the King's Pyre will be done with assistance from your new partner, Ivar.\" \nHerin patted the newcomer on the back, as the man walked over to Ambrose and outstretched a hand. \n\nAmbrose tentatively shook the man's hand, more out of reflex than any actual respect. He looked past the man and towards Herin, confusion on his face. \n\"King's Pyre? Sir, at this stage I think the last thing I need is a partner.\"\n\nHerin waved his hand dismissively. \"King's Pyre is the name I gave your project, Ambrose. Poetic, is it not? It's flames will consume all that Maith has built, a funeral pyre for our 'Pirate King'. As for your partner, well, you want to go home with your daughter, don't you? That means someone needs to know how to make the pyre once you leave.\"\n\nThe way he said it, like an inside joke between two old friends. Ambrose hated him more than ever in that moment, because he *Knew*. Both of them had a mutual understanding, they both knew Ambrose would never leave this place alive, he had to die to protect the secret of the pyre, and he had accepted that. He accepted he would never see his daughter grow old, he would never be there for her birthdays, her wedding, he wouldn't be able to protect her against the dangers of life, and this monster, this inhuman creature that had tortured her, was laughing about that. He wanted to scream, but instead he simply nodded. \n\"Of course, *Sir*.\"\n\n\"Good, I'll let you both get to work on it then.\" Herin clasped his hands together, then walked out of the room. As the door closed, Ambrose realized he was now fully alone with this 'Ivar'. He was an islander, a big brute of a man with calloused hands and a bushy beard that seemed to resist any attempts to wrangle it's hairs. These were not uncommon traits amongst Hanged Raiders, but the way Ivar carried himself, the way he dressed, it spoke of a man with a bearing rarely found amongst those who plied the trade of piracy. \n\n\"Are you just going to stare, or are you going to show me how to make this 'King's Pyre'?\" Ivar said, breaking Ambrose's train of thought. \n\"Yes, yes, of course.\" Ambrose said, going to collect the ingredients needed. He was eager to get this over with, in a way. This might end with his death, yes, but it would finally end his worries. Every day he woke up terrified that his daughter might be gone, every day was a waking nightmare. Once he taught Ivar how to make this weapon, he would die, but he would also finally stop worrying. He almost hoped that there was no afterlife for him to look down upon his daughter from, it would be easier that way. \nHe recoiled from his own thoughts. That wasn't him, that wasn't the type of man he was. He wouldn't think those things, right? \nLooking over at Ivar, already busy mixing his own batch of the Pyre. Simply to exorcise the dark thoughts from his mind, Ambrose struck up a conversation with the man.\n\n\"Ivar, was it? May I ask you a question?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\" Was all the man said in response. He had a strong accent, certainly a native of the isles. \n\n\"Please don't take this the wrong way, but you seem a little more... Educated than most raiders.\"\n\n\"You wonder why I'm not a syphilis ridden buffon like most scags?\" \n\nAmbrose held up his hands in apology, flinching at the thought of this man getting angry with him. \"No, I just wondered how someone like you, with a grasp of basic alchemical sciences, ended up in a place like... This.\"\n\nIvar was silent, turning back to his work. Ambrose sighed, apparently starting up a conversation wasn't something his new partner was interested in. \n\n\"Bradai Maith killed my family.\" Ivar said suddenly, his eyes still glued to his project. \"One of the pirate crews he allowed to operate did, at least. My sons, my wife, all gone thanks to him. That's why I'm here, because I want him to hurt the same way I do.\"\n\nAmbrose looked at Ivar with a mixture of confusion and anger. \"Your family died to pirates, and so you decided to join the Hanged Raiders?! You think they don't kill women or children? Where's the reason in that?!\" He didn't mention it, but he thought of his daughter, the prisoner of these sadists. What sort of grieving father would inflict his grief on others?\n\nIvar turned to Ambrose, his expression so cold, it caused Ambrose to flinch. \n\"Save your judgments. I might have failed my family, but at least I'm not whoring myself out to their killer.\" \nThe comment hit Ambrose like a punch to the gut. He didn't have anything to say, he just turned back to his work, mouth agape. \nFor a while, neither man talked. \n\n\"It doesn't go away, you know.\" Ivar said, breaking the silence \"That urge to protect them, it never does, even when they're gone. It's all you have left, really, that drive to keep them safe, and the knowledge you failed.\"\n\nAfter that, they worked in silence. \n\n\nHerin Farensun walked the streets of Libertalia without fear. He had no guards, no protection besides the sword at his hip and the small crossbow hidden on his person. Yet despite being in a den of thieves and murderers, men who would sell their mother for a few silver coins, he needed no protection. As he walked past groups of men, some his own Hanged Raiders, some Scags, they all showed respect. A few bowed their heads, but most simply gave a quick salute as he passed them. He needed no guards, because he had the greatest protection of all, his mask.\n\nHerin had learned something important about leadership, flesh is weak, yet symbols are eternal. A king can die to an assassin's blade or fall in battle, and he must, because he is a mortal man, and therefore invites death. But a symbol? You cannot stab a symbol, you cannot kill a symbol, because it exists within the minds of those sworn to it. A symbol is much like a god in that way, men throw themselves at it's altar, sacrificing all in its name. And so Herin made himself a symbol, the symbol of the Hanged Raiders. But a man cannot be a symbol, so Herin had to eliminate his humanity as well. That was the power of the mask, because it hid the human beneath. Now when the men looked at him, they didn't see Captain Herin, they saw The Hanged Captain, the leader of the Hanged Raiders. And while Herin Farensun was very much a mortal man, The Hanged Captain was a symbol, and you couldn't kill that. \n\nHerin finally arrived at his destination, the shipyards. The Hanged Raiders had many hidden shipyards around the Isles, building and repairing the ships of the Hanged Fleet, but this one was by far the largest. Herin had invested more time and gold into this place than just about any other facet of his empire. As he walked through the grand wooden halls, he looked upon the fruits of his labor, men hard at work building multiple warships, great beasts that would drench the seas in blood. Normally, most scags focused on smaller, faster ships, ones that could raid settlements and towns, then escape quickly. Herin had bigger ambitions than that, and so needed bigger ships, but he had not come here for those, the object of this visit was more than just a warship.\n\nWalking through a small door in the massive wooden wall that separated the two halves of the shipyard, Herin stepped into a cacophony of noise. Slaves and workers ran about, carrying planks and pieces of wood, all converging on the very thing Herin had come here to see. \n\nIt was a massive skeleton of a ship, more than double the size of the largest warship in the Hanged Fleet, and larger than anything Maith had, as far as Herin knew. It was only a collection of boards and planks right now, but Herin could envision it finished in his mind, and he knew it would be glorious. \n\n\"Cap'n! I heard you were comin 'ere, glad ta see yer in good 'ealth.\" Came a voice from behind him. Herin turned to face Normais Fairrite, the chief shipwright of Libertalia. Normais had formerly been a shipwright for one of the more powerful pirate clans, however when Bradai Maith unified the Isles, they resisted, and Normais was left without a job. Refusing to work for Maith for what he did, he made his way to the Hanged Raiders, and was probably the only reason why their fleet was even close to as good as it was. \n\n\"Normais, good to see you as well, any reports on the progress of the Livyatan?\" Herin said, clasping a hand on the old man's shoulder. \n\n\"Ah, things are goin well, at least, as well as they could be.\" Normais turned, leading Herin down the length of the ship. It truly was a massive thing, a true successor to the Livyatans of old. \n\"When this beauty is finished, doubt anything on the seas could scratch 'er. But with all the resources ya poured inter this, Ai dunno if it'll be worth it in the end. Big as it is, it ca'only be in one place at once.\"\n\n\"It only needs to be in one.\" Herin replied, staring up at the skeleton of the monster. \n\n\"That may be true, but if this sinks, you lose everything ya put inter it. I coulda made five smaller warships with all the gold an' time spent makin this beasty.\"\n\n\"We have warships, Normais, what we need is a symbol.\"\n\n\"A symbol? I don't follow yer.\"\n\n\"What is our greatest weakness, Normais? What do we lack that Maith has?\" Herin asked, looking the older man directly in the eyes. \n\n\"Numbers, simple as.\" The man replied quickly. \"At full strength, we barely reach 'alf of what he's got, maybe tree-quarters if we called in some favers.\"\n\n\"Even if we called in every scag crew that owes us something, there would still be more out there that wouldn't fight. Houses that doubt Maith, scag crews too cowardly or too cautious to stand at our side. But if we united them, we would have a force fit to fight Maith.\"\n\n\"Heh\" Normaise shook his head \"That may be true, but Maith has a firm grip on 'is houses, he ain't likely ta let any of em go.\"\n\n\"Then we loosen his grip, and once they're free, we give them a symbol to rally around, the only symbol that has ever *Truly* United the Isles.\"\nHerin gestured to the massive ship, he had already given it a name, *The Livyatan's Wake*, the weapon of the Tide Barer. \n\"You see my mask, Normais? That is the symbol of the Hanged Raiders, that is *My* Symbol. But if we are to grow beyond petty raids and smuggling, then our symbol must be *Larger*.\"\nHerin looked at the old man, holding his shoulder and pointing to the massive ship being built before them. \n\"You can sink a warship, Normais. But no man can sink a Livyatan.\""
}
] | 200 | 3,566 |
670 | 2021-03-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun \nThe Royal Balcony \n\nAs Valkrin came back in, he adjusted his uniform, making it look as presentable as possible. He'd caught the tail end of Gitten's tantrum, and even chuckled at the girl's words. He took a seat next to the Pirate King, far enough to not impose, but close enough to put a blade through the heart of anyone that might make an attempt on Maith's life. \n\n\"It's been dealt with, and paid for,\" He said to the Pirate King. Feeling a bump whenever his glass eye moved, he removed it and was surprised to find that there was a bit of dried blood on it. Valkrin wiped it off on his handkerchief and popped it in his mouth before inserting it back in it's socket. \n\nIn his opinion, he was a part of this meeting of kings. The Pirate King, the Ibbish King, the future King of Terresol, and himself a king in legend."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cyprien de Lysse\nThe Royal Balcony\n\nThe crowd's attention was on the joust, but Cyprien struggled to get invested. His mind drifted from Caderyn Vortigern to Charity Lane to John de Burgh. While others cheered for the knightly prowess displayed on the Mizzen, Cyprien's head was absorbed with thoughts of the wars to come, its logistics, and it's strategy. He had to figure everything out before the time for the ball came.\n\nThe Vortigern restoration had gone from a dream to a very real possibility. If House Dumange stood by the rightful heir, then Leirus would follow shortly after. If half of Terresol rallied behind Caderyn, the rest of the nobles would have no choice but to crown him.\n\nBut the Vortigern restoration had to be achieved quickly and without blooshed, for De Burgh awaited no one. Terresol could not afford to spend it's troops in a fratricide succession war.\n\nThe wait was killing him. And the tourney wasn't even halfly underway."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton \nSouthern Isles\n\nAll he felt was pain. His life seeped out of every pore in his body, dropping down and leaving a trail as the men dragged him away. It hurt to move. Every thought was another dagger shoved into his brain. His eyes were swollen shut, but he could hear the men laughing at his expense. \n\n\"To think, we got paid to beat up the little shit.\" A deep voice laughed as he tugged on Arin's broken arm. \n\n\"Wait, we got paid? Isn't that his money?\" The man on his left sounded younger, almost surprised to hear the other man plotting to ignore Valkrin's orders. \n\n\"Aye. We get paid. You seriously believe I'm going to pay for this damned fool to go to a doctor?\" The man said, adjusting his grip as Arin's arm hung in its socket loosely. \n\n\"Valkrin ordered us to deliver him to the hospital. V-A-L-K-R-I-N. When is the last time you remember him asking anyone to keep someone alive?\" The man on his left said, grunting as he tugged Arin along.\n\n\"He's going soft, that much is certain. I don't know about you but I'm not taking the ugly bastard anywhere.\" The guard on his right was beginning to get restless. \n\n\"No, you are just fucking insane. What do you think Valkrin will do to us if he ever finds out? I have a wife, two kids. You know this you stupid idiot. I'm not risking all of that over a few measly coins. It's not worth my life, and it's definitely not worth yours. If you think it is, then you are a fool.\" The other guard was pissed, gripping Arin's arms tighter. \n\n\"Shut the fuck up about your whore of a wife. She's probably sleeping with everyone she can get her hands on right now and you fucking know it. She's probably slept with the captain as well. How else would a coward like you be able to work here?\" The guard on his right began to laugh at his own joke. \n\n\"Fuck you. I've defended you more times than I can count, helped you do all of your stupid shit, but no. You wanna risk everything I've worked hard for over a handful of gold?\" The man said, turning a corner.\n\n\"It's not a risk. No one is gonna look for this kid. If anything we can pay a few coins to a doctor to report his death. All we have to do is dump him behind that merchant's place.. The one.. You know. Noma. He never checks so it'll be a few days before someone discovers the little shit. By then, he'll be dead.\" The guard remarked, laughing. \n\n\"Aye. If we are caught, at least we are caught together.\" The man on his right said as they circled the marketplace. \n\n\"Shut the fuck up.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\nAfter a few more minutes, the pair lifted Arin into the piles of food waste and laughed, before turning and leaving. Arin groaned, beginning to wake up as images flashed through his mind.\n\n*A young man, resembling Arin but his features were changed.. Not quite his own. Arin watched as the man smiled and waved at him. Arin smiled and waved back.*\n\nA memory began to form as Arin laid, blood dripping off of his twitching fingers. He took slow breaths, barely alive as he struggled. He closed his eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. \n\n*\"Arin!\" A booming voice shook him awake. Arin was resting against the railing of the ship. He stood up slowly, wiping the sea spray off of his face. He frowned, and glanced up, the sun hiding the face of the man talking to him. \n\n\"Come on! I was almost asleep.\" Arin said, shielding his eyes and grinning. \n\n\"No time for sleep, brother. Maith's men have been prowling the edges of our territory. What good would you be if they killed you in your sleep, eh? The least you can do is die standing.\" The other man said, walking towards Arin and placing a hand on his shoulder as he walked past. \n\n\"I'm joking, little brother. Don't be so serious.\" The other man said, as Arin frowned. \n\n\"I'm as old as you are-\" Arin started, before being interrupted.\n\n\"But I was born first, therefore I'm the older brother.\" The other man said, walking out of Arin's vision. The world around Arin blurred as things began happening quickly. Men began scurrying about, tightening sails, brushing rails, and doing other various tasks they were assigned.*\n\n*\"SHIPS! ATTACK!\" Words began to interrupt everyone's calm. Arin dropped the brush he was holding, glancing around frantically. His eyes noticed five ships, all bearing the mark of Bradai Maíth. Arin's eyes widened as he turned and ran towards the small corner room he called home. He grabbed his sword and ran back outside. Men yelled, ordering each other around. The captain of the ship had already jumped ship, afraid to die. \n\n\"Together men! We can hold but we must turn and run. No use dying here and now!\" Arin jumped up to grab the wheel of the ship, spinning it to turn the ship away from the oncoming ships. \n\n\"Why should any of us listen to you?\" Another man spoke up, looking up at Arin. \n\n\"Because I'm the only dumbass here who has any sort of self-preservation... Obviously. Now get to the sails and open them fully. NOW!\" Arin yelled, as his brother emerged from below deck. \n\n\"Glad to see we have such a brave captain leading us\" Herein said, looking at their former captain, swimming towards shore. \"You heard the man! Get those sails up!\" Herin yelled to the men, before turning to his brother. \"I hope you know what you're doing, because if I die here, I'm haunting you for eternity.\"\n\n\"Of course I don't. But remember, our mother always told us our father's blood ran through our veins. Let's hope it gives us a bit of luck today.\" Arin said as the wind began to fill the sails, giving the ship a bit of speed as Arin held tightly to the wheel.*\n\n*A single arrow pierced the biggest sail, and Arin swore loudly. They weren't fast enough. Arin knew they wouldn't be able to outrun Bradai's men, but he was hoping he would have been able to make it farther than they were. \n\n\"Ready your weapons men! We ain't leaving here without a fight!\" Arin said as the ship's began catching up. A rope with a large hook attached to it caught on to their ship, then another and another. Arin quickly scrambled to try to unhook them, but an arrow embedded itself into the floor between his feet. He glanced up, and the eyes of a demon met him. \n\nArin blinked, and it was over. He was backed against a wall, with three men holding their swords at him. He held off two of them, but the third quickly rushed him. \n\n\"HERIN!\" He screamed, as the man picked him up and slammed him against the edge of the ship and began to try and throw him over. Herin glanced at him, and mouthed a word. \n\n\"I'm sorry.\" The last thing his brother ever said to him before he fell over the edge of the ship was I'm sorry.*"
}
] | 228 | 2,010 |
386.666667 | 2021-03-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Pirate King Bradai Maith and First Admiral Gitten Maith\nThe Royal Balcony, The Mizzen\n\nBradai did not look up at Valkrin when he had mentioned that Arin Cragton was bleeding to death in an alley. \"And is it clean, Captain?\" \n\nBradai had long trusted Valkrin to execute whatever order he had given him. He was like a dog in that respect. Dogs were excellent at keeping people safe, at barking orders, at finding things. Dogs were not particularly good at covering up their own tracks. \"Do make sure vhat your men wash vheir 'ands uff it. I don't like stories. Do you?\"\n\nGitten ignored Dennon for a long while, preferring instead to pick out the dirt from underneath her nails with the tip of her dirk. She didn't talk to Mainlanders if she could help it, let alone a King ordained by the Lightning God of Terresol. But there was something about his voice that caught her attention. She had heard it before. Just as the conversation seemed to lose any sort of flow and the silence had all but enveloped any time reserved for a response, she looked up at him. She pursed her lips and stood from her chair, sheathing the dirk and crossing her arms. \n\n\"You're the fella whose married tae the Queen who sent that wee boy tae 'ang.\" \n\nA chuckle rose up in her throat, \"Is she fat? A canny remember her for the life ae me, but a swear a wis comin up the stairs in that gods forsaken castle in Vallen n A could hear her complainin. She's got that wraith ae wrath within her, tae be sure, but a didny catch a look at 'er in the Council. A wis drinking, n a couldn't focus long enough tae tell ye wit she looked like. Every time a think yer wife a think ae a fat woman. Naw shame in bein fat, shows ye eat well. Ma father wis fat, until Bradai kicked him oot. Aye.\" \n\nThere was a long pause.\n\n\"Now he's all skinny like. On account ae the 'omelessness. Are ye as bored as am wae all this jousting? A suppose ye've got strong horses in Ibbithial. Not whatever scrawny things we've got 'ere.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon of Ibethiel\nThe Royal Balcony, The Mizzen**\n\nThe king felt out of place in the silence following his introduction to Bradai's sister. He had offered the greeting thinking the brash woman might be civilized enough to return it without incident, but with one sentence, Gitten harshly reminded Dennon of why he avoided starting conversations with other people. He really should have had a decent response by now for questions about Lucrezia executing Cheston. Shrugging his shoulders and saying, \"What can ya do?\" Like a dolt seemed a bit too cavalier of a response for such a grim subject. Then again, perhaps it wouldn't have seemed like such an out of place response to an Islander, considering the fact that they seemed to open jousts by executing their in-laws. The king also wondered if he even deserved the luxury of a response that could dismiss the subject so off-handedly. He did bear a fair bit of responsibility for what led up to the deed, even if he did everything he could to stop it in the moment.\n\nDennon had once made the mistake of sharing his feelings of guilt to the queen early in their marriage when she could tell that something was on his mind. She responded by telling him that the child was a usurper that deserved to die. It wasn't necessarily what she said, but the casual, matter-of-fact way she said it that bothered him. On those nights when he was kept awake by the haunting memories of Cheston's desperate cries and his mother's anguished screams, Dennon would turn to the queen, who with a smile illuminated by the pale moonlight, would whisper the execution order in her sleep.\n\n\"Yes, there are many great horses back in Ibethiel.\" Dennon said, grateful for something Gitten spouted off after the comments about Lucrezia's weight and Maith family troubles that he could latch on to. \"The queen and I occasionally take walks to the stables to see them, even down to the fields as well. Quite long walks.\" He added, implying that the queen exercised too."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nThe Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper, The Southern Isles\n\nNoma was puzzled. She was right, it was unusual for there to be two people with that particular name. He wanted to brush it off, but he was a curious man by nature.\n\n\"Young man? Close cropped hair? Carries a cutlass on his hip? He captains a red sailed Junk ship called *The Sparrow's Wing*?\" A drunkard called for another mug of ale, so Noma excused himself to pour a fresh batch. He gave his usual soliloquy about it being from the finest brewers in Astoria, but the man waved him off, only interested in getting drunk. Noma returned to his stall just in time to take another order, and plate his last one. After a few moments he had another lull, so he returned to Catarina and their conversation.\n\nNoma was too busy to notice the guards dumping a body into his waste pile, but Bertram did, sending a defensive moo at the pair when they drew close."
}
] | 434 | 1,160 |
361 | 2021-03-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Lord Eric Stafford\nThe Mizzen\n\nEric Stafford emerged onto the sandy grounds of the Mizzen to the roar of the Islander crowd. Eric brought his specific set of tourney armour for the occasion. His left side had an additional guard that covered his neck, in the event a lance hit too high, it would have more armor to smash through to cause any harm. The armor he wore was bright green with a silver trim on the high points of the armor. He held his jousting helmet in his left hand when he emerged so he could better look over the crowd, eventually ending his gaze on where his wife sat, watching. Eric gave her a confident smile before putting the helm on. Ser Gerwold ran out with the tourney lance, placing it into Eric's gauntlet firmly. \n\n\"Ready my lord?\" He asked, looking up at him. Eric could see excitement building in the young knight, he'd been knighted only two weeks ago. \n\n\"I am.\" Eric replied, \"I'll make sure you are able to take part in the lists for the next tourney.\"\n\n\"It isn't a problem, this is a bit high profile for me anyway, my lord. I'll keep to local ones back home for now.\" \n\nEric nodded and looked over to his emerging competition. \"Have the others keep some water on hand, it's fucking hot out here.\" \n\nWith that, Eric brought his horse to his starting position and waited to see if the king had anything to say before the horn was blown."
},
{
"author": "zeebeeb",
"message": "Edgar Esmann \nSouthern Isles Village \n\nAs the proud pillagers revelled in their takings, the world around them was still. They were alone, free to pick and plunder whatever hidden treasure, trinkets or lumber they could get their mitts on. Though, the occasional gaze into the green void of woodland and jungle soon became unnerving if peered into for too long. As if something was demanded attention - something amiss, but the brain couldn't discern what it was with any definitive cause. So, it went unchecked. Still, the hours trickled on with the calm ripples of the adjacent sea, for that too was still. It was gradual, and mostly imperceptible, but as the looters continued to pick the village like a corpse, the looming jungle gained a perpetual air of menace. If the trees could speak, they would warn the raiders - warn them of their own greed. \n\"Loose!\" \nSuddenly, the still air and cordial choruses of the raiders were shattered by a fusillade of arrows. Smoke followed the arrows, and the arrows announced themselves with fire - fire that scorched the warriors ships and sails alike. The archers were invisible, obscured by the jungle's dense foliage. Shadows danced wickedly amidst the undergrowth. Retaliating villages? An opposing army? There was no other way to tell but to brave the jungle and march onwards to battle. \n\"Loose!\"\nRetreat? Well, that would be difficult. The incipient blazes swept across the longboats the raiders had arrived on, slowly turning their escape into an inferno. Some were shot dead, the arrows finding a home in their chests and necks. While the arrow fire was steady and persistent, it was not vast. The hidden archers - whoever they were - knew that if a charge was not swiftly countered, they would drown in the steel of hundreds of axes, and their own blood. The flames danced from ship to ship, creating an infernal wall that separated the once ebullient warriors from their ships. Battle was the only option. \n\n\"Loose!\""
},
{
"author": "mcblademouse",
"message": "Jesper Kyr\nThe Mizzen \n\nThe crowd's roar greeted Jesper as he moved into the Mizzen, shielding his eyes with his hand for a brief second, the armor he wore clanking heavily around him as his arm moved. Black hair dropped in front of his eyes, and he bit back a sigh as he tucked it back into his helmet. Jamesly told him the dye used would come out eventually, but he didn't specify a time frame for that, which worried Jesper. Light bounced off the steel plates he wore, drawing his eyes down as he looked at the nondescript armor. It would protect him from the worst of the bouts, and the slightly raised neckline of the breastplate would stop his neck from being crushed. Jamesly made his way over to Jesper with his lance, passing it up to him with a calm smirk on his face.\n\n\"Nervous?\" Jamesly asked, the devious look in the man's eyes set Jesper on edge slightly, and he couldn't stop the scowl he got.\n\n\"I still fail to see how you convinced me to do this.\" Jesper growled, taking the lance with a bit more force than was really necessary.\n\nJamesly just offered a small shrug as an answer, shaking his head as he turned back to where he came. \"I'll make sure to keep some water to cool you down.\" He called over his shoulder, waving as he walked off.\n\nWith a shake of his head Jesper moved the horse over to the starting position, annoyance shooting through him as the horse whinnied, wishing for nothing more than Pontus to be his companion for the joust."
}
] | 338 | 1,083 |
1,975.333333 | 2021-03-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nLIbertalia Fortress, Uncharted Waters\n\n\nAll wars are wars of faith, in some respect. Ideas and ideals made flesh in the form of armies, spilling blood in support of beliefs they do not understand. To wage war, you must believe in something to wage war in the name of, it can be something as lofty as a better world for all, or as shallow as simple profit, but you must have faith in something. \nHerin Farensun had professed many faiths over his life, but he had never truly believed in any of them, up until now. \nHis mask lay on the desk at the center of the room, alongside his captain's hat and sword. Herein felt naked, staring at his face in the mirror for the first time in what felt like years. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, and his stubble had grown to a patchy semblance of a beard. Looking at his cracked reflection, he didn't recognize the thing that stared back at him. \nHerein Farensun had faith in no gods, he never had. Tides Barers and Pantheons of nameless gods never held any sway over him, though he made no mention of that fact. But Heirn had finally found a God that was right for him.\nThe razor was light in his hand, a small little blade that fit neatly in his palm. He held the shimmering steel to his throat, and then began to shave.\n\nWhen Herin was young, no more than seven or eight, he believed in hope. He and his brother hadn't had much in life, their mother forgot about them most days, leaving the two to explore on their own. They spent whole days watching the ships in the harbor, telling each other stories they overheard from sailors about adventurous pirates and hidden treasures, pretending that they would one day be just like the pirates of legend. Every evening from the roof of their hovel, they'd watch the sun go down, and Herin would hope that one day he could be just like that shimmering ball of light, and disappear over the horizon, and never return to that place. But most of all, in his naivete and child-like ignorance, he hoped his father would return someday. The tales about his father were always his favorite, the ones about Valkrin Farensun, the greatest pirate who ever lived. He remembered asking his mother once if his father loved them, but she didn't answer. Nevertheless, he held out hope, that little child, living in squalor in the slums of a seaside village. But Herin Farensun did not believe in hope anymore.\n\nHerin ran a hand over his newly shaved chin. He splashed water on his face from the bowl on the small desk beneath the mirror, then turned his attention towards his hair. Taking a pair of scissors from the desk drawer, he grabbed a tuft of his brown hair and began to cut. \nWhen Herin was barely a man, he believed in freedom. He was seventeen years old and thought he had life figured all out. He and his brother were pirates, just like they always said. Their clan was strong, they did as they pleased and raided with impunity. Looking back, Herin thought that was the only time in his life when he was truly at peace. He had everything planned out then, how he'd make a name for himself as a pirate, then retire when he got old, maybe with a family of his own, one he wouldn't abandon like his father did. His brother was still at his side then, they did everything together, back then he couldn't imagine a life without him. \nAs another clump of hair fell from his head onto the stone floor, Herin remembered the day it all fell apart. \nHe remembered the fire, the smoke from the manor house and the village below, and the screams of his comrades as his future burned to ash before his eyes. He remembered the water going red with blood, the ships sinking beneath the waves, taking whole crews with them. He remembered his brother, and abandoning him to his fate while Herin made his escape. But most of all, he remembered the hate, the pure, unfettered rage burning deep within his soul at the man responsible for all of it. He remembered kneeling on the beach, the heat of his burning home on his face, and screaming to the heavens. He remembered swearing vengeance on Maith, curing his name and devoting himself to destroying everything he built. That day, he realized that freedom was a lie, an illusion only the foolish and the deluded believed in. The only reality he had left was hate.\n\nBut when Herin Farensun looked in the mirror all these years later, he could not find that hate. \nHe had read somewhere that time heals all wounds, but if that was true, what happens to those who have nothing else? Everything he had done since that day had been done for revenge, he had turned a group of starving scags into an organized fighting force, he had done things his past self would be appalled at, and soon he would change the very face of warfare itself, all for just a chance at revenge on Bradai Maith. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not be that boy screaming on a beach anymore. \nAnd so, Herin Farensun had to finally ask himself the question, what was he fighting for? He had told so many lies, touted ideals not his own, all to put himself in a position of power. He had positioned himself to steal the mantle of a god, to rule over the minds and hearts of men with an iron fist, but why? He could not do it for hatred, not simply because his hate had faded, but because he found that pathetic. To destroy for hate was the vocation of lesser men, pathetic children lashing out in rage because they couldn't stomach an unjust world. Herin would not be another lost child striking out in rage, lost to history. As the razor left his hand, Herin thought once more on the totality of his work, and knew what he had to do.\n\nLooking in the mirror one last time, Herin admired his work. All the hair on his face and head had been shaved off, it made wearing his mask far more bearable. As he affixed the golden faceplate on his head, he heard a knock at the door. \n\n\"Sir, they're ready for you.\"\n\n\"And so it begins.\" Herin muttered to himself, stepping out the door and into the hall. The guard who had called to him stood at attention, giving a crisp salute as the Hanged Captain entered his presence. Herin, for his part, gave the man a curt nod and began the walk to the council room. \nThe Hanged Council, or as the men called them, \"The Gallows ', were the five Admirals of the Hanged Raiders, and Herin's closest allies. At least, in theory they were. In truth, they were more like cancerous growths Herin had to keep from overwhelming the whole. Each one was a scag, born and bred, and controlled a swath of ships and territory at Herin's behest. But they were still scags, and as such, were constantly hungry for more, and so running the raiders was a delicate balancing act, keeping one head of the hydra from eating another. \nEntering the council chambers, Herin saw the others had already taken their seats at the table. A collection of ruffians dressed in stolen jewels and looted finery, an amusing looking bunch to be sure, but these were the best the scags had to offer. He had almost considered inviting Dagstygg to this meeting, but decided against it. This was Hanged Raiders business, and Herin could handle that on his own.\n\nThe Five members of the Hanged Council looked upon their captain with varying degrees of annoyance and respect. Herin despised each and every one of them, but had never been able to do anything about it. After all, he couldn't run an empire on his own.\nSilver-Tongue Horath, a slaver by trade, noted for his skill both with a blade and with his wit. Herin valued his skill at the art of the deal almost as much as he despised the man personally. \nFrancois Kipp, who claimed to be the true heir to House Kripp. He was a bit mad, and almost certainly not related to house Kipp, but even madmen had their uses. \nLelli Harkness, a woman who was known throughout the Isles for her cruelty, and a more recent addition to the Hanged Raiders. Herin needed her territory more than he resented her lack of tact or stratagem, and so she had a seat on the council.\nThe scag known only as Harkon, a mysterious figure who took his place on the council at nearly the same time Herin ascended to the Captain's seat. Herin saw him as a threat to his power, but never could do anything about it without causing more strife within the ranks than he could afford. \nAnd finally, Mack Callabran, the one Herin hated more than any other. He was young, charismatic, and more like Herin than either one was comfortable with. The only difference was that Callabran was a true believer. Deep within his soul, Callabran truly believed that their mission was a righteous one, that by overthrowing Maith they would restore the natural, pure state of the Isles. Herin almost pitied him, he was so much like himself, but he lacked the clarity of vision to see the truth. But today, he would open all of their eyes.\n\nWalking down the length of the table, Herin could feel all their eyes boring into him. They didn't like being summoned like this, brought together so to listen to him give orders. That was the true problem with scags, Herin realized, each one was a fortress unto themselves, unable to truly ally with one another. He had done all he could to make the Hanged Raiders something more than a loose confederation of scag crews, but the Hanged Council had always stood in the way of true unity. \nTaking his seat at the head of the table, Herin looked over the faces of his assembled council. Harkness and Kipp scowled, while Callabran and Horath seemed more curious, and Harkon, as always, was expressionless. \n\"My esteemed comrades\" Herin began, using his most authoritative tone, yet when he spoke it felt rushed, even disinterested. \"I have assembled you here today to make an announcement. Long have we labored in the shadows of the Isles, growing in power and size. Now the time has come to take the final step, I hereby officially declare war on Bradai Maith!\" \n\nThe assembled council's mood turned into one of outrage, even Harkon dropped his stone-faced facade to express his distaste for this idea. \n\"What?! Are you mad?!\" Kipp yelled\n\"Clearly! The bastard wants to declare war on Bradai *Bloody* Maith!\" Resounded Harkness.\n\"First the blasted savages from up North, and now this?\" Horath spat\nHerin simply sat in silence, staring into the distance as the growing cries faded in his mind. He found it hard to waste breath on these fools anymore. His thoughts took him back to that mirror, the razor in his hand and the thoughts drifting in his head. As he began to drift away into his own thoughts, his concentration was brought once more back to reality by a commanding voice from the table.\n\n\"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!\"\nIt was Callabran, he had stood from his seat and drove his knife into the wooden table. All eyes were now on him, even Herin's. \n\"Look at yourselves, what's wrong with you? Why do you think we gathered together in the first place?! The Hanged Raiders formed with one goal in mind, to restore the glory of the Isles!\" Callabran spoke with authority, with conviction, everything Herin had lacked when he made his declaration. The council looked to Callabran with awe and respect, his voice soothing their anger and encouraging their passion. \"How else would we do that besides toppling the tyrant Maith? That is what we have all longed for these past 15 years, a fall to his empire, and a return of our way of life! I know that it might seem foolish to go against Maith and his fleets, but if we want to be something more than a group of cowards sitting in a fortress spouting Ideals we refuse to stand for, then we have to take the risk!\"\n\nWhen Callabran finished, the whole council stood in respect, all of them except for Herin. Kipp clapped Callabran on the shoulder, Horath commented on how regal he looked, but none of them paid Herin any mind until the sound of a slow, sarcastic clap cut through the air. Herin still lounged in his chair, glaring at Callabran from behind his mask, his mocking applause the only sound in the room, until he finally spoke.\n\"A truly powerful speech, Callabran. I appreciate your support, but you labor under a misconception that our goal is to restore the Isles to what they were before Maith.\" \nShock ran across the faces of every scag in the room, Callabran was especially taken aback, but none dared make a move yet. Each one had the same thought in their head, 'what was the captain thinking?'\n\n\"You all seek the same thing, each and every one of you.\" Herin had stood, and the council had taken their seats once more, listening in cautious rapture to the voice of their captain. It was no longer the disinterested, soft voice from before, Herin now spoke with the voice of a true commander. Not like Callabran, who sought to inspire and rally the hearts of his audience, but like a cruel deity, who knows all will listen to his words because they have no other choice. \"You all wish for a return to the old ways, these supposed 'glory days' of the isles.\" He made no effort to disguise his contempt for them anymore. Even behind his mask, they could tell what expression lay behind that golden face.\n\"You are all fools.\" Herin spat\n\"You truly think the isles were better off before Maith? Back when it was nothing more than a collection of warring idiots building ships for no other purpose than to kill each other over scraps? Is that your idea of paradise?! You hate Maith because you are too blind to see the future, and so you cling to the past like drowning rats cling to splinters.\"\nIf anyone else had spoken these words, they would be torn to pieces before they had a chance to react, but not a one moved a finger when Herin spoke. \n\"Maith needs to be deposed for one reason, and one reason alone, not because he destroyed the old ways, but because he didn't fully kill them.\"\nHerin began to walk down the length of the table, as if daring anyone to raise a hand against him. He stopped with his back to the door, leaning forwards with both hands on the table like a bird of prey inspecting it's kill. \n\"Look around, our existence is proof of his failure. Maith almost seized the mantle of the Tides Barer, he almost united all of the Isles under one banner, but in the end he was too cowardly to do what was needed. Only one thing can unite the Isles, and it's not him.\"\n\nHe looked up at the council, his eyes boring into each and every one of them, but he stopped to stare at Callabran, the one he hated most of all. \"And It's not you all either. A pathetic collection of scags who think they're legends. That's what none of you understood, there is only one legend that matters in the Isles, and it's not any of you.\" \n\nHerin opened the door to the hall, and revealed his weapon.\n\n\nStanding in the hall was a strange device. It was nearly the size of a ballista, and had been placed on a pair of wheels for easier transportation. It was made of three parts, a large tank in the back, a pump akin to a siphon in the middle, and a tube at the front, with a lit brazier sitting right at the mouth of the tube. A man stood to the side, one hand on the pump, and fear in his eyes.\n\"Only the Tide Barer can *Truly* Unite the Isles, but only one man can claim that mantle, and it won't be Maith, and it surely won't be any of you.\"\nHerin stepped behind the strange device and snapped his fingers. Ivar pumped once, and the Council died in flames. \n\nIt was everything Herin hoped it would be. The device had launched the flaming liquid nearly thirty feet, coating the entire council in fire. Slamming the iron door, he listened to the screams of his former colleagues as they burned alive. \nHe had dreamed of this day for a long time, and finally it had become a reality. He had planned this long in advance, moving the pieces together, placing men more conducive to his vision in places of power under his admirals. When news of their death, at the hands of Bradai Maith of course, reached the rest of the Raiders, his men would step into their new positions without missing a beat, men who were not legends or true-blooded scags, but who knew their place and served without question. At long last, the Hanged Raiders were truly united under his rule.\n\nHe turned to Ivar, the man was shaking. He trusted Ivar more than most others, and that trust had paid off. The plan, and Ivar's weapon, had worked flawlessly. \n\"Well, that certainly went well, don't you think?\" Herin said jovially, patting Ivar on the shoulder. Ivar still seemed shaken up, though Herin couldn't fault him. Killing the Hanged Council wasn't something you did every day. \n\"Both the mixture and your device worked perfectly. I have to say Ivar, I'm impressed.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir.\" Ivar said, clearly shaken. He didn't even look at Herin, just stared at the iron door and the smoke coming from behind it. \n\n\"I'll need the recipe from you, of course, so I can begin to work on production.\"\n\n\"Sir? I... I thought I was going to be in charge of that?\" \n\n\"Yes, of course Ivar. You'll oversee production, but this is not something we can rush into. The recipe must be closely guarded, and so we must organize the creation process in such a way that the recipe is still kept secret.\" Herin held up a finger to emphasize his point, walking away from the council room and towards the stairs that led deeper into the fortress. He gestured for Ivar to follow, and the man complied. He had men coming, loyal ones, to dispose of the bodies and hide the weapon.\n\n\"How will you manage that?\" Ivar asked, though from his voice it was clear he was still more focused on the magnitude of what he had just done, rather one what Herin was saying. That was one of the qualities Heirn liked least about people like Ivar, the fact they got so hung up on the past. What's done is done, you have to move on quick or end up dead. \n\n\"Make the different parts of the mixture separately, each done by different groups, with a third group mixing the two together and finalizing the batch.\" \nIt was possible, certainly, but it would take time to set up, and might make production slower than it could be otherwise. But Herin was adamant about keeping the recipe a secret, if it ever got out, his advantage would be lost. \n\n\"Well, I already have a few batches ready. It's not a lot, but we could outfit a few ships with my dragons within the week.\" 'Dragons' were what Ivar had named his weapon. He thought it was accurate, they were both fire-breathing monsters after all. \n\n\"NO!\" Herin wheeled around, looking Ivar dead in the eye. \n\"Not yet! We are not going to even let word of this weapon get out until we are ready to deploy them in force. Do you comprehend the magnitude of what we have created? This weapon will change warfare in the Isles, perhaps beyond, forever. Right now, only we possess it, and that means we possess it when it is at its most dangerous. The first time we use this, we will win, no matter the odds, no matter the enemy. The second time, however, they will be ready, it will no longer be an assured victory. Now do you understand?\"\nIvar nodded silently, and Herin seemed to relax, turning back to walk down the stairs. \n\n\"Now, I believe we have one last piece of business to attend to.\"\n\nIvar was dreading this, but he knew it was coming. As they made their way down into the dungeons, neither one of them spoke. Only dead silence hung in the air between them. Finally, they arrived at a familiar wrought iron door. Herin unlocked the latch, and swung it open to reveal who sat inside. \n\n\"Hello Ambrose.\" The Hanged Captain spoke, holding out a hand to the emancipated figure sitting in the corner of the room. \"Let's go see your daughter.\"\n\nAmbrose followed the two men out into the hall, his eyes almost obscured by his long, unkempt mop of hair hanging from his head. His scraggly beard was encrusted with remains of the slop they had been feeding him, and the rags he wore were stained with filth and sweat. Ivar pitied the man, they had worked together to create this weapon for Herin, and now he was being marched to his death, and no one would even acknowledge it. \n\nFinally, the stairs ended. They stepped onto the sandy floor of a large cavern, the air was cool and damp, the only light coming from a few torches hung on the jagged stone walls. At the other end of the cavern was a large iron door, one that looked like it was meant to stand up to an all-out siege. \n\"That door leads to a small, hidden inlet. There's a ship waiting for you there, along with your daughter. It'll take you up to Azarya, and I've included some coin for you to start anew with as well.\"\n\nAmbrose looked shocked, looking up at the masked man with wide eyes. Was he telling the truth? This monster, who had abused him so much over the past months, was letting him go? He had consigned himself to death long ago, never expecting to see his daughter again, tears welled up in the corner of his eyes at the thought. \n\n\"Oh don't look so surprised.\" Herin snapped. \"I'm a man of my word, I said I'd reunite you and your daughter, didn't I?\" He clasped Ambrose by the shoulder, and leaned in. \"But before you go thinking you're truly free from me, If you speak even a word of what you've made for me to *Anyone*, then I will find you and make what I did before look like the greatest of kindnesses. Are we clear?\"\n\nAmbrose only nodded quickly, and Herin released his shoulder, then opened the door. \n\"May you find shelter in the gods embrace.\" Herin said as Ambrose stepped through the door. \n\nAs Ambrose stepped through the threshold, he stepped on something wet and squishy. Looking down, he saw what it was in the faint light of the torches behind him. A human intestine, laying in the sand beneath his feet. He screamed, turning to run, but it was too late, Herin had closed the door. He could see his golden mask peering at him through a small slot, and somehow he could tell the man was smiling underneath.\n\n\"Oh Amrbose, so smart, yet still so stupid.\"\nAmbrose fell against the door, looking towards the darkness that covered the room he was in. Something was moving back there, something large. \n\"I told you I'd reunite you with your daughter, didn't I? I am a man of my word after all.\" \n\nThen he saw it, the arm, the severed, bloody arm of a child laying on the ground beside him. The arm only had four fingers. \n\n\"Nostrom! Stop playing with your food!\" Herin chided, in a tone more like a scolding father than a pirate lord. \n\"You'll have to forgive Nostrom, he's a shy one.\" \n\nAmbrose couldn't speak, only gurgle and whimper as he saw the beast crawling towards him from the shadows. It's massive, clawed forelimbs inching their way towards his face, it's powerful hind legs crushing the bones scattered on the floor of the room. He could see it's sickly, pale skin shimmering in the darkness, but it's face was what made him scream. The beast had no eyes, only four sets of nostrils, sniffing the air as it slowly made its way towards him. Ambrose flattened himself against the iron door, closing his eyes. He could feel it's breath on his face as it sat mere inches from him.\n\n\"You insulted me Ambrose, you called me a madman, a liar, a *Monster*. I am not a monster, Ambrose, so I thought it best to show you what a real monster is.\" \nAt that moment, Nostrom pounced, leaping atop Ambrose and carving into his flesh. The man screamed as blood sprayed from his wounds, going through the slot of the door and dashing Herin's golden mask in crimson flecks. \n\"You denounced me as a god Amrbose, so now only the devils will have you.\" Herin spoke only to himself. Ambrose was not in a condition to hear anything anymore, and Ivar was busy puking on the floor. \n\nHerin Farensun had turned a group of starving scags into an organized fighting force, he had done things his past self would be appalled at, and soon he would change the very face of warfare itself, and soon he would wage war on Bradai Maith. All wars were wars of faith, in some respect, and Herin Farensun had finally found his. \nHerin Farensun had never believed in a god, until now."
},
{
"author": "shadowbob34",
"message": "Lord Eric Stafford\nThe Mizzen\n\nKing Bradai didn't say anything and it seemed everyone was waiting on them. _Here we go._ Eric thought before raising his lance to his opponent as a sort of salute, bidding him good luck as well as a signal that he was ready. He steadied his horse and adjusted his grip on the reins. His nerves bubbled up slightly, but they were suppressed with a deep breath. \n\nFor a moment, Lord Randall's voice was in his head. \"Dip the lance just before you hit, too early and the imbalance will make you hit low. Too late and you'll hit too high.\" \n\nIt felt like an eternity before the horn sounding their start sounded, but when he heard the long awaited sound, there wasn't a moment wasted. Eric kicked his spurs into the horse and the horse set off with a gallop toward his opponent. Eric didn't dip his lance immediately, instead waiting for the gap to close between the two."
},
{
"author": "mcblademouse",
"message": "Jesper Kyr\nThe Mizzen\n\nJesper idly raised his lance after his opponent, before taking a deep breath as the long forgotten training he had been given quickly moved through his head. With a calm confidence he adjusted his posture in the saddle, shifting a bit so that he could better keep his balance. His horse moved nervously below him, and he tugged a bit on the reins, reeling it in a bit as he let out a sigh. \n\nThe horn blared loudly, and Jesper dug his spurred heels into the horse's side, keeping a close eye on his opponent as he pulled his horse as close to the tilt rail as he could. His grip on the lance loosened a small bit, but he was prepared to tighten it when his lance made contact."
}
] | 201 | 5,926 |
361.333333 | 2021-04-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nSouthern Isles\n\nThe hours ticked away as she spent the time with the maids. She wasn't quite good at cleaning, or practically any function of a normal maid. They just covered saying she was new, but her soft hands had obviously not seen harsh work a day in her life.\n\nAfter trying to blend in with the maids for most of the day, she ended up going back to her room. She opened the windows to let fresh air in, and sat down on the bed.\n\nThe environment was wildly new to her. The humidity of the sea clinged to her body, accentuating the weather. But the salty scent that lingered in the air was very much pleasant. She had never seen the sea until they took this trip.\n\nShe wanted to go out and visit the town, go down by the coast and feel the water on her feet. Explore this whole new place they were staying in. It seemed exciting to her.\n\nAlas, she had been told to keep her cover as a maid, for her safety, and stay undercover. Going out on a walk could maybe mean too much of a risk.\n\nBut oh, how much she wanted to go out. No, she didn't want, she *Needed* To go out. Specially after two of the maids came back from running some errands and told her and the other maids there about the town.\n\nAnna let herself fall back into the bed, staring at the ceiling as she breathed in the breeze that came through the window. In her mind, she pictured everything the maids described. It sounded like an exciting place to visit. And they described such pretty dresses displayed in one of the shops... She wasn't going to lie, as soon as they mentioned it, she wanted to go buy one. \n\nShe needed new clothes, to her taste, that would fit her new home with Kirk anyways, so buying one or two dresses as trinket of this travel couldn't hurt, could it? \n\nShe sighed and stood up, wanting to change into more comfortable clothes. \n\nKirk wouldn't be back from the joust yet, so she still had time to kill. She brushed her hair, got ready for going to sleep, got comfortable on the bed and picked up the book that she brought with her on the travel. Reading was one of the few things that helped her fight the boredom and the urge to go explore."
},
{
"author": "cas7572",
"message": "Valkrin Farensun\nThe Mizzen, Tonate Proper \n\n*Grass caressed Valkrin's cheek as he sat up, and as he brushed his hand across his face, he couldn't feel his scars. There were birds singing their cheerful songs, and an evening sun painting the valley he stood in in a brilliant golden hue. Valkrin recognized this valley, he'd grown up here, along with his twelve siblings. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't remember their faces, or his parent's faces for that matter.* \n\n*As Valkrin turned to face the setting sun, he saw a figure sitting beneath a tree. The figure was a woman, clothed in the most beautiful dress Valkrin had seen in his life. Her dark hair swayed along with the breeze, and her eyes seemed to trap him in eternity. The bangles on her wrists tapped together to the rhythm of life itself. He called out the woman, in a tongue he couldn't understand, asking this goddess for her name so that he might carve it into the stars. When the woman opened her mouth to speak, a sound like crashing thunder filled the air. The sun had set, and the thunder clapped again, taking the very breath from Valkrin's lungs. Drowning in a sea of darkness, the thunder boomed it's last, and was replaced by the sound of cheering.*\n\nForty years of pain and suffering since he last set foot in that valley flooded into the captain's body as he opened his eyes and felt the weight of time run it's course. He'd slept through the joust, somehow, without anyone noticing. Valkrin had not dreamed in years, let alone dreamt of home. But he knew the dark haired woman he'd seen was Catarina, and planned to ask her what his dream meant when they met again later."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nWindrip Docks\n\nAround noontime the manservants of the house Dwyer came with their manacles for some task they felt he was necessary for. Consenting to being shackled, Xin allowed himself to be placed in a cage for transport. His habits over the year since he'd arrived had cemented his wild child behavior, and made him a liability to be moved any long distance without security.\n\nThey shipped him to the docks to put him onboard a boat, which immediately made him antsy. The sea meant no agency in movement, and worse, no cover for him to conceal himself. He felt more naked on the water than he did actually completely nude.\n\nHis fingers tightened around the bars, the rust cracking and breaking beneath his grip. \"Why sea?\" He muttered silently.\n\n\"Why always sea?\" Were he capable of pressing his ears to his skull, they would be flush with his scalp. This was a foreboding event, and the first really worrying thing to happen to him in the wake of his arrival."
}
] | 377 | 1,084 |
249.05 | 2021-04-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "milauv",
"message": "Camila Dwyer\nWindrip Docks\n\nThe Dwyer servants moved the cage onto The Red Sun, bringing Xin down to the ship's cargo hold where he would stay, guarded by the crew members. The members of the crew were bringing barrels into the hold, not giving any direct attention to Xin, as advised by his handlers.\n\nWhen the crew members were done storing the barrels, they closed the door behind them, leaving one armed with a cutlass behind to stay by the door to keep an eye on Xin.\n\nThe chattering Xin could hear coming from above him came to halt and a brief moment of silence took place before the men started cheering. While he wondered what the cheering was for, Xin could hear a woman faintly over the cheers..\n\n** **\n\n\"Listen up! As we make the final preparations before we set sail, I'd like to thank you all for being a part of my crew! The Tider Bearer has blessed me with such a loyal and hard-working crew! We leave for the Mizzen within the hour to enjoy some festivities!\" The cheers of the crew members only get louder once she is done speaking. \n\nThe sounds of footsteps become louder and louder until Xin can hear speaking at the door. The guard opens the door and Camila walks in, stopping in front of Xin's cage, facing him. \"Hello, Xin. I know your situation is less than ideal.. But I hope you will soon realize you're better off under my care than my brother's.\""
},
{
"author": "do_69420",
"message": "Dagstygg Jarl\nSouthern Isles\n\nThe Vikingir had made work of charting areas of interest along their travels from the north, it had taken several days of sailing to travel from Northwind down to their current location, and nearly a week to travel from the home islands in the witherlands before that.\n\nThis was the farthest any of the far northern men of his culture had ever been, he was the first of his people to have ever set foot here and it was terribly foreign to them. The tides were warm, the air was salty but sweet, and colorful bird broke the green like blood on canvas. \n\nTents had been set up for temporary encampment, this was no place to settle permanently, Dagstygg was sat with his wayfinder, a man named Hymskæggi. He was pointing at the map, as was the young Jarl. They were both using runic magic to form glowing lines along river paths on the map, and when one would disagree with the other, the line would fade away."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson \nWindrip Docks\n\nHer approach was known long before he could hear her footsteps, her perfumed smell carried on the retreating sea winds filled his nostrils. That young woman that the fat man was afright of, Camila was her name. Xin realized he was to be of some use to her, or perhaps, entertainment of a sort. \n\nDomesticated humans are foul creatures, stinking ape things that entertain themselves at the misery of others. Though he knew they would assault him with blades sharper than his claws and teeth if he struck against them, so he tolerated the indignity, knowing that some day soon he would take his freedom by force.\n\nShe descended to the underside of the ship, her footsteps filling his ears as his pupils dilated in the darkness. \"Woman understand. Cage can not hold. My choice to be here.\" He stuck his forearm through the bars and grabbed hold of the padlock with his hand. With a heave and a ripple of muscle he yanked the padlock hard enough to snap the pins inside with a loud metallic ping. \n\nBut instead of pushing the bar door open, he released the lock and let it drop back into place. Then sat back against the wall, the thump of his bottom hitting the floor echoed heavily. \"Where we going?\""
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nVikingr Encampment, Southern isles\n\nThe Vikingr had only recently arrived in the Isles, and under Herin's \"Protection\" Had found a place to settle, albeit temporarily. Herin was no fool, he couldn't yet trust these northern savages with the location of Libertalia, he might never be able to do that, but he also needed to keep them close at hand. This place worked well for now, on the edge of Maith's territory and out of the way of patrols, it kept the Vikingr out of sight but close enough to be useful. \n\nHowever, recently a few things had come to his attention that required him to take matters into his own hands. \nAs his ship put down it's anchor, Herin looked out onto the collection of tents and fires that made up the Vikingr encampment. These were a primitive people, yet useful in their own way. \n\nStepping ashore, his guards made sure no one disturbed him as he made his way through the camp. Next to the skins and brown rags worn by Dagstygg's people, Herin's crimson jacket stood out like a drop of blood on white canvas. He could feel their eyes on him, judging him, weighing him up like starving jackals gazing hungrily at a wolf. \nFinally, he found his way to Dagstygg's tent. Ignoring the words of the man standing guard, he shoved his way past the man and entered Dagstygg's abodes. \n\n\"Jarl. We need to talk.\" Herin's voice was deadly serious, his tone only made darker by the metallic echo of his mask."
},
{
"author": "do_69420",
"message": "Dagstygg Jarl\nSouther Isles\n\nHe waved off his wayfinder to give Herin and him solitude, the behemoth of a man would fall into a seat and lean foreward slightly, taking a drink from a capped drinking horn hainging from his waist.\n\nHe never understood the flashy attire of the pirate lord before him, not *Because* It was flashy, but the style of it. The Vikingar used any excuse to embroider clothing with jewelery, enchantments or carvings, so the idea of \"Fancy\" Was not unknown to him, it was just... A different kind.\n\n\"Hail, pirate king. What can I do for you?\""
},
{
"author": "milauv",
"message": "Camila Dwyer\nWindrip Docks\n\nCamila watched as Xin snapped the pins inside of the padlock. She looked at the feral man, studying his body language, the way he spoke, and his appearance. Camila knew this was going to be no easy task but she was determined to fulfill her promise to her brother. \n\n\"The Mizzen, on Tonate Proper. There is a festival taking place and I thought it'd be nice to let my crew enjoy themselves a bit.\" She took a few steps to the side and opened a barrel. She took a mug and dipped it inside the barrel, filling it with water before closing the barrel up again. She slid the mug through the bars and placed it on the floor.\n\n\"Believe me, keeping you locked in the hold is not my wish. I'd love to let you freely roam the ship freely, but you're a dangerous man, Xin. I hope one you could take a liking to me, or least tolerate me. But for now I understand why you may dislike me.\"\n\nThe man guarding the door peaked his head through the door and asked Camila if she was almost ready to set sail. She replied, \"Yes just give me another minute with Xin, please.\""
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nVikingr Encampment\n\nInstead of respond to Dagstygg straight away, Herin walked the perimeter of the tent, looking at the walls, the decorations, the maps and charts that lay strewn about. Only once he had taken in all that was there did he finally speak.\n\n\"Hail, Jarl of the Vikingr. I see your people have made camp here? In such short time as well, your people truly are hardier than most.\"\n\nHerin had received word from his scouts only days ago of multiple ships of Vikingr design heading towards clan Maith waters. From what they had told him, it was clear what the purpose of those ships was, a raiding party.\nHerin had also noticed a suspicious lack of Dagstygg's sister, which was quite strange, she wasn't the type to hide. He doubted she could even if she wanted to, she was nearly as big as Dagstygg and twice as loud. All the screaming and chanting these people did... Herin had no idea why, it didn't seem to serve any tactical advantage besides maybe moral, though he certainly didn't feel encouraged by their guttural yowls. \n\n\"I got word that some of your ships are... Away, shall we say.\" Herin said, running his finger along the map on the table. If it was a map of the Isles, it could have used some work. He made a mental note to send Dagstygg some of the Raiders charts, though none of the ones that included Libertalia. \n\"Would you mind enlightening me as to the purpose of these ships? The ones your sister took, I mean.\" \nHe didn't know for sure that she was the one leading this raid, but it made sense. Bloodlust like hers could only be contained so long, and when it was released it was volatile. That was dangerous, and more importantly, could risk his plans. Dagstygg he could work with, his bloodlust was tempered with the caution of a leader, but Kolga was an entirely different beast. A zealot who thirsted for blood, she would either have to be muzzled or put down before she threatened Herin's designs for the isles."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nWindrip Docks\n\nHe stretched out his leg and hooked the handle of the mug with his toe and pulled it closer, when it was in arms reach he grabbed it and lapped up a couple sips like a cat does. After a few moments of pregnant silence he said plainly. \"Festivities are glamour with no purpose. Wasting goods for fun while poor starve.\" \n\nHe took a couple more sips. \"Bread and circus keeps mob fat and content.\" There was a note of derisiveness to his tone, in the face of the family's wealth."
},
{
"author": "do_69420",
"message": "Dagstygg Jarl\nSouthern Isles\n\n\"Ships? I don't recall any being taken off. Kolga sent a scouting party eastward by sea, however she has made way north on foot, our clans are hungry. She is on a raid and should be returning soon, as far as I am aware...\"\n\nHe stands up and steps out of the tent, a raven lands on his shoulder and delivers a small note. He didn't have time to read it in its entirety before the marauding clan of his sister would come marching across the horizon behind them. They brought the stench of death and blood with them, but more importantly they brought goods and larder. Many of the men had heads dangling from their belts.\n\n\"It seems your question has been answered.\""
},
{
"author": "milauv",
"message": "Camila Dwyer\nWindrip Docks\n\nCamila brushes a piece of her hair out of her face, \"Festivities give people something to look forward to, a break from their hard-working lifestyle for a small time.\" \n\nThe man guarding the door opened it up, allowing her to walk out. She reached the frame of the door before turning her head back to the feral man. \"And Xin, I know what you may be thinking... I may be small but don't underestimate me, I want to like you, don't make me regret that..\" She nodded her head before walking out the door.\n\nThe guard closed the door behind her. She turned to him, giving him an order, \"He's capable of much more than you think. I'll come check on him later but until I get the ship up and going I'm going to need you to stay here. If he tries to escape, go get some backup, but I do not want him dead, understand?\" The guard nodded his head, taking his position to the side of the door."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nVikingr Encampment\n\nSo it wasn't a raiding party by sea. Apparently his spies were a bit... Overzealous with their description of the Vikingr ships. It seemed as if he should have focused his attention towards the land, as that was where these fools apparently had focused their rage. Underneath his mask, Herin gritted his teeth. \n\"Tell your sister to get in here. Now.\" Herin growled. He was so caught up in his anger, he didn't even stop to wonder what the purpose of the Raven was if Kolga was about to return any second. \n\n\"Both of you apparently need to learn your place in the Isles.\" Herin muttered, sitting down at the table across from Dagstygg. He rubbed the temple of his mask, these people were weapons, true, but could Herin use then without cutting himself in the process?"
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nWindrip Docks\n\nWith the woman's fright filled boast completed and the guard positioned, Xin had not much more to say. But when the Guard first set eyes on Xin, he whistled in an inclining tone and then bared his teeth in a wolfish grin at the man. Then went silent, the only sound being the saliva inside his mouth squelching slightly as he lapped up more water from the cup."
},
{
"author": "milauv",
"message": "Camila Dwyer\nWindrip Docks\n\nCamila returned to the deck, whistling to gain her crew's attention. \"Let's get ready! I want the sails lowered and the flag raised so we can raise the anchor!\"\n\nThe men went straight to their posts, doing exactly as she asked. Camila and her crew had a mutual respect for one another, she had hand picked her crew from people she had known since she was a girl. The crew was more of a family to her.\n\nSoon the sails were lowered and angled towards the wind, the flag was raised and gently waving in the breeze, the Dwyer sigil glowing as the sun hit it. She yelled out, \"Raise the anchor! It's time for a journey to the Mizzen, boys!\""
},
{
"author": "do_69420",
"message": "Dagstygg Jarl and Kolga Jarlskona\nSouthern Isles\nVikingar encampment\n\nDagstygg turned his eyes to Kolga, he wasn't sure why Herin was referring to *Him* As he hasn't done anything too drastic, possibly it was to avoid offending his sister. However by the look on his face it was obvious he didn't disagree.\n\n\"With all due respect Herin. I have yet to do anything that may jeopardize our work here, and my sister here was tending to the needs of our people, we require materials. However... You are right in your own respect, we must find other ways of obtaining what we need, rather than raiding villages as is custom to our clans. You follow a fickle god, Kolga. But you cannot always please Ófriðr, you must think of your allies. Of your clan. Of me.\"\n\nKolga seemed less than impressed. She wasn't angry, but definately annoyed. Her chilling voice would come out as a bark once she finally gave her input.\n\n\"Fine. This raid will be enough to sate our blood god for the time being. What is it you propose we do now then, Sunnlendingur? I don't suppose you'll want us to take up farming.\"\n\nIt would seem she would now be adressing Herin. While she listened to him, she grabbed one of the heads she took off a villager and toss it to her wolves, Hausbrjótr would slam his jaws around it with a sickening crunch, and Striðsdreki would begin to fight with his counterpart over the matter that spilled from it."
},
{
"author": "leeroy8459",
"message": "Xin Tigerson\nCasting To Sea\n\nThe hustle and bustle of a crew making a ship ready to go to sea was a rhythmic mess of footfalls and creaking wood. Admittedly, Xin felt it very similar to the sound of trees in the jungle on a windy day. Like bamboo clattering against itself while great trees creak and sway.\n\nXin yawned thinking of home once again, feeling a nostalgic sense wash over him as his eyelids felt heavy. The darkness of the hold was not helping his efforts to resist sleep.\n\nHis eyes shut and his muscles relaxed. Before he slept he pushed the half full cup of water to the corner of the cage, so as not to spill it while he slept."
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nVikingr Encampment \n\nUpon hearing Dagstygg's words, Herin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He stood from his seat, looking at the twin Vikingr leaders. Behind his mask, he gritted his teeth, and directed his attention at Kolga.\n\"Question Kolga, did you kill everyone in that village?\" Herin asked, his voice colder than the most frigid northwind nights. \"Rhetorical question, you didn't, because that would require a deal of forethought and tactical acumen clearly not present within you.\" \nHerin might have been the smallest by far between the three of them, but his sheer presence seemed to fill the entire room. He moved slowly, deliberately, like a snake coiling around it's prey, and now the serpent made it's way towards Kolga.\n\"Right now, the survivors of your ill-planned raid have already discovered your camp and have sent men for help, because in your infinite wisdom, you decided to raid a village on the same Island you made camp on. You can walk across this whole place in a day, you really thought you'd be hidden here? Before, they would have no reason to do anything, you were simply a strange band of foreigners, now you're an invasion force.\"\n\nHerin opened the tent flap, gesturing to the supplies they had brought back with them. Mostly wood and raw materials, most of it from houses, of all things. Herin turned back to Kolga, his mask showing none of the anger beneath. \n\"And what did you gain from this? Wood, the same thing that's quite literally everywhere on the Isles. Your whole camp is surrounded by trees, did you really not think to chop a few of those down before you went right to a killing spree?\"\n\nHerin glared at Kolga, then turned his back to her.\n\"What do I propose you do? Nothing, do nothing until I say you should. You are strangers here, you do not know this land, or it's people. You are here at my behest, so listen to me when I say you should do nothing unless I tell you to do it. As for farming... That requires an intelligence beyond you, Kolga. Stick to what you know, lashing out like a child.\""
},
{
"author": "do_69420",
"message": "Kolga Jarlskona\nSouthern Isles\nVikingar Encampment\n\n\"And what do you think a bunch of Sudurlendingar are going to do against us? A coward hides from its enemy. I'd wager maybe five men survived our raid, and thats being optimistic. Wood was not our only target, we have brought food to our people. Food we will need. And we never remain in place for long, I can garuntee this camp of ours will be gone within fourty eight hours. As for how you see me, pirate king. You would be wise not to insult me. I am a Jarlskona for a reason, it is rare to find *Anyone* Who can be successful on bloodshed alone, and in our culture, the cost of disrespect is death. We share a common goal. Do not make an enemy of me and my brother.\"\n\nDagstygg turned to his sister and interjected as she spoke\n\n\"That may be so, Kolga, but you have to think in the long term. Do we really *Want* To be constantly on the move? Your clan is half the size of mine. Moving a thousand men on a constant basis is a chore. As your older sibling I will expect you to follow our order. I may have called you for assistance but I know you were waiting for my call, and now that you are here you will not give up on the opportunity.\""
},
{
"author": "beegcatfish",
"message": "Herin Farensun\nVikingar Encampment\n\nHerin locked eyes with Kolga as she spoke. In truth, his anger did not stem simply from her tactical blunders, but from what she was. She was everything he feared he might be, a raving child, driven only by bloodlust and hate. She too seemed to think of herself as a god, or at least as serving one, and Herin had to wonder, was this his fate? Were all who claimed to be holy nothing more than raving lunatics, their minds broken under the weight of their own ego? He would not be like her, he swore to himself, he would not be like those who came before. He wanted to convey all of that, to shout it to the world, but the best he could do was a steely glare and Kolga and a few harsh words.\n\"Jarlskona? You are mistaken Kolga, you are not anything here. Up North, you might have been a Jarlskona, but here? You are nothing more than a raider dressed in strange armor with a penchant for chanting. If you want to make something of yourself, then you need to do more than randomly lash out like a madwoman.\" \n\nReaching into his pocket, Herin withdrew a small map of the surrounding isles. On it had been marked multiple ports, farms, and small shipyards owned by House Maith.\n\"But if you need to sate your bloodlust, use this. A map of House Maith targets for you to plunder and destroy to your hearts content. My only request is that you burn it to the ground when you leave. Oh, and make sure to leave no survivors.\""
},
{
"author": "milauv",
"message": "Camila Dwyer\nSouthern Isle Seas\n\nThe Red Sun was up and sailing, the breeze ever so slightly making the Dwyer sigil wave. A few of the men broke into a tune of the great Tide Bearer as they worked and maintained the sails, the rest of the crew gradually joined in and even Camila herself couldn't help but sing along with her new friends. \n\nThe ship was set on path towards The Mizzen. Camila walked up to one of her most loyal crew members and asked him a favor. \"Mind making sure the wheel stays straight while I go check on the feral? I need to make sure the guard down there isn't lying on the floor dead.\" The crew member agreed and Camila headed down to the hold.\n\nShe walked into the hold and saw the man laying on the floor sleeping. It was a bit surprising he had not attempted anything. She walked to the other end of the hold and grabbed a wooden bowl, popping a couple pieces of meat into the bowl and returning back to the cage."
},
{
"author": "do_69420",
"message": "Dagstygg Jarl and Kolga Jarlskona\n\nDagstygg seemed to have a deep thought after Herin spoke. He stepped to the entrance of the tent and watched as a storm was rolling in the distance. \n\n\"Herin is right. We have no claimants here, and thus we are not seen as lords to anyone aside from our clans. I have no land even in our home islands, thanks to Konung Berahild.\n\nIn the mean time, I have plans to conduct a sea raid. I have become aware of shipping lanes that no doubt belong to our esteemed southern king. And I feel scuttling a ship would be far less costly, and far more profitable than swarming into a village...\"\n\nKolga seemed to be settling her temper as she glazed over the map. She then folded it up and tucked it into her belt. With a snort and a spit, which consisted mostly of blood, she nodded, glancing back at Herin.\n\n\"Now you are speaking my language, Sudurlandingr.\""
}
] | 217.5 | 4,981 |
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