Assassin's Guild (IC)(OPEN) | Roleplay

OOC

Jazmine - Tavern
Interacting With - Open

Jazmine rubbed her thumb along the handle of her mug. It was filled most of the way with mead, the town's specialty. She didn't quite care for it. Alchohol had never appealed much to her. She just ordered it to have a reason to duck into the tavern.

Jazmine had arrived in town two days ago. She knew the Guild was hot on her tail. he tried to ignore the voice in her head that told her to go back. She was safe there. She was home there.

Thinking about it made her stomach churn, worse than the mead did. Jazmine pulled the scaf down below her chin and took a drink. She managed to drink a bit without shuddering, and she set the mug back down on the table.

On the one hand, she envied those who could stomach drinks. They could numb themselves. Forget. Jazmine was stuck with the haunting nightmares of her past. Death that had placed its hand on her shoulder and guided her through life, dictating that she cut down so many.

Jazmine shook her head. She couldn't afford to get emotional. Not now. She had to get her bearings. Was the Guild here yet?

Rick - Town Square (not where Jazmine is, a town a few miles West)
Interacting With - Open

Rick squinted in the sunlight. He hated being out where it was so bright. Light was harsh and unnecessary. Shaking his head, Rick leaned back to watch the crowd.

His gaze jumped from person to person, contemplating if they were worth his time. What could each offer him? Why should he bother?

Rick gritted his teeth when he thought about his host. She wasn't here, at least not that he could tell. And she had been staying hidden. Too well, he might add. Jazmine was weak, running from her past. He'd tried telling her to go back to the Guild. At least he could find her there.

Growling, Rick stood up harshly. He didn't even know how to describe her. Hey, have you seen a person about my hight? Reaks of danger, looks draconic? She disguised herself and went into hiding. He doubted she'd keep too many details about herself.

Why does that idiot have to keep moving so much?

@Tumbleweeds
@Kingman
@SanguineShadow

ChaoticPotato

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September 22, 2020 18:04:20

OOC

Jazmine - Tavern
Interacting With - Open

Jazmine rubbed her thumb along the handle of her mug. It was filled most of the way with mead, the town's specialty. She didn't quite care for it. Alchohol had never appealed much to her. She just ordered it to have a reason to duck into the tavern.

Jazmine had arrived in town two days ago. She knew the Guild was hot on her tail. he tried to ignore the voice in her head that told her to go back. She was safe there. She was home there.

Thinking about it made her stomach churn, worse than the mead did. Jazmine pulled the scaf down below her chin and took a drink. She managed to drink a bit without shuddering, and she set the mug back down on the table.

On the one hand, she envied those who could stomach drinks. They could numb themselves. Forget. Jazmine was stuck with the haunting nightmares of her past. Death that had placed its hand on her shoulder and guided her through life, dictating that she cut down so many.

Jazmine shook her head. She couldn't afford to get emotional. Not now. She had to get her bearings. Was the Guild here yet?

Rick - Town Square (not where Jazmine is, a town a few miles West)
Interacting With - Open

Rick squinted in the sunlight. He hated being out where it was so bright. Light was harsh and unnecessary. Shaking his head, Rick leaned back to watch the crowd.

His gaze jumped from person to person, contemplating if they were worth his time. What could each offer him? Why should he bother?

Rick gritted his teeth when he thought about his host. She wasn't here, at least not that he could tell. And she had been staying hidden. Too well, he might add. Jazmine was weak, running from her past. He'd tried telling her to go back to the Guild. At least he could find her there.

Growling, Rick stood up harshly. He didn't even know how to describe her. Hey, have you seen a person about my hight? Reaks of danger, looks draconic? She disguised herself and went into hiding. He doubted she'd keep too many details about herself.

Why does that idiot have to keep moving so much?

@Tumbleweeds
@Kingman
@SanguineShadow

Big fan of RP and mafia games, also super hyped for ArtFight this year

Oh and I also used to be Dragonclaw101

Clayton Academy

Samantha - Entering Western Town

Sam took up the slack in her reins as she entered town. There were throngs of people, which was a blessing and a curse to someone who was being looked for. On the positive side, it meant a place to hide- more people to look through, more faces to check- but on the negative side that meant more witnesses to where she was. Sam wasn't worried about that, though- she wouldn't care if she was found. She could just kill her way out of a bad situation if worse came to worse.

Her large, dappled gray horse champed the bit and yanked against her abrupt change of contact. Her tone was soft as she touched him with her leg and asked him to move forward through the crowd- she'd need to find a place to stall him for the night and a place to sleep before continuing her search.
She's around here somewhere. I've tracked her this far. Maybe someone will have seen her.

Abruptly, she was torn out of her thought when her horse happened to balk at a water barrel that had fallen off of a wagon. He jumped backwards, which she wasn't entirely prepared for, but got a hold of him before he could trample anyone.
"I better just walk you through here, shouldn't I sweetie?" She said softly, turning his head so his nose was next to her knee and then kicking her feet out of the stirrups. Dismounting with almost no sound, Sam then made her way through the crowd.

Luckily her dark, dusty red hood and shoulder cloak mostly his her face, and Licht and Schatten at her sides probably discouraged anyone from asking about her. Her hourglass figure was highlighted by her leather corset and her skin-tight pants, a sharp contrast to the peasants and normal people in the crowd. Many disapproving looks caught her eyes, but she held her chin up with pride and led the gray gelding towards someplace that looked horse-populated.

SanguineShadow

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September 22, 2020 19:46:55

Samantha - Entering Western Town

Sam took up the slack in her reins as she entered town. There were throngs of people, which was a blessing and a curse to someone who was being looked for. On the positive side, it meant a place to hide- more people to look through, more faces to check- but on the negative side that meant more witnesses to where she was. Sam wasn't worried about that, though- she wouldn't care if she was found. She could just kill her way out of a bad situation if worse came to worse.

Her large, dappled gray horse champed the bit and yanked against her abrupt change of contact. Her tone was soft as she touched him with her leg and asked him to move forward through the crowd- she'd need to find a place to stall him for the night and a place to sleep before continuing her search.
She's around here somewhere. I've tracked her this far. Maybe someone will have seen her.

Abruptly, she was torn out of her thought when her horse happened to balk at a water barrel that had fallen off of a wagon. He jumped backwards, which she wasn't entirely prepared for, but got a hold of him before he could trample anyone.
"I better just walk you through here, shouldn't I sweetie?" She said softly, turning his head so his nose was next to her knee and then kicking her feet out of the stirrups. Dismounting with almost no sound, Sam then made her way through the crowd.

Luckily her dark, dusty red hood and shoulder cloak mostly his her face, and Licht and Schatten at her sides probably discouraged anyone from asking about her. Her hourglass figure was highlighted by her leather corset and her skin-tight pants, a sharp contrast to the peasants and normal people in the crowd. Many disapproving looks caught her eyes, but she held her chin up with pride and led the gray gelding towards someplace that looked horse-populated.

.....
.....
.....

San/Sanguine
She/Her
Give me Pumpkin Spice before I remove your kneecap privileges

Cynric - Tavern - (@dragonclaw101 ) Jazmine (in same basic area)

Cynric had the mercy of mead, which was good enough for him. He was half passed out in the corner, eyes half-closed as he tried his best to drown it all out. The burn of the alcohol was nothing but a sensation he had learned to seek, growing shaky without it and cloudy with it. Cloudy was better than pain, no? Or had pain grown to be simply a obstacle to him?
Cynric was collapsed in the corner for a reason. Even he had his limits, and no one wanted to deal with that. In essence, he looked like ****.

His clothing was torn and battered, even his armor, and his weapons were leaned against the wall (presumably before he had gotten there, days ago), with a mug in his hand and more around him. He was covered in filth and smelled like vomit, probably why the normal townsfolk didn’t help.
He gulped down another cup of mead, leaning his head back against the wall, wanting badly to just black out already. His head was filling with thoughts again, and he was tired of those. He wasn’t sure if someone could die of mead, but he presumed it wouldn’t be too bad a way to go.
He had had the good fortune to escape with some gold and one of the horses, granting him a quick getaway and mead.

At some point the barkeep had stopped charging him, some primal pity spurring the man to just give up on the damned soul in the corner.

He glanced up as an extremely tall woman entered the bar, sitting conspicuously and sipping her mead. Cynric had the faint idea that he knew her. Right now, though, his mind felt blissfully full of cotton, muffling any glimmer of intellect that would recognize her.
Being followed was an inevitability, he had once known, but he was pretty much convinced they were off his trail at this point. The people around didn’t so much as grimace at him anymore. The Guild was built upon the quiet whispers, but there was no whisper of him to be found.

Besides, the drinking-yourself-to-death seemed more reasonable by the minute now. Something groggily whispered ‘danger’ about the unrecognizable woman, yet still he wasn’t sure. Well, if he had to go he’d do it with mead by his side. That seemed good to him currently.

Kingman

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September 22, 2020 21:03:32

Cynric - Tavern - (@dragonclaw101 ) Jazmine (in same basic area)

Cynric had the mercy of mead, which was good enough for him. He was half passed out in the corner, eyes half-closed as he tried his best to drown it all out. The burn of the alcohol was nothing but a sensation he had learned to seek, growing shaky without it and cloudy with it. Cloudy was better than pain, no? Or had pain grown to be simply a obstacle to him?
Cynric was collapsed in the corner for a reason. Even he had his limits, and no one wanted to deal with that. In essence, he looked like ****.

His clothing was torn and battered, even his armor, and his weapons were leaned against the wall (presumably before he had gotten there, days ago), with a mug in his hand and more around him. He was covered in filth and smelled like vomit, probably why the normal townsfolk didn’t help.
He gulped down another cup of mead, leaning his head back against the wall, wanting badly to just black out already. His head was filling with thoughts again, and he was tired of those. He wasn’t sure if someone could die of mead, but he presumed it wouldn’t be too bad a way to go.
He had had the good fortune to escape with some gold and one of the horses, granting him a quick getaway and mead.

At some point the barkeep had stopped charging him, some primal pity spurring the man to just give up on the damned soul in the corner.

He glanced up as an extremely tall woman entered the bar, sitting conspicuously and sipping her mead. Cynric had the faint idea that he knew her. Right now, though, his mind felt blissfully full of cotton, muffling any glimmer of intellect that would recognize her.
Being followed was an inevitability, he had once known, but he was pretty much convinced they were off his trail at this point. The people around didn’t so much as grimace at him anymore. The Guild was built upon the quiet whispers, but there was no whisper of him to be found.

Besides, the drinking-yourself-to-death seemed more reasonable by the minute now. Something groggily whispered ‘danger’ about the unrecognizable woman, yet still he wasn’t sure. Well, if he had to go he’d do it with mead by his side. That seemed good to him currently.

| King | Under 18 | He/Him|

My hobby is bad things I love

Newt - Somewhere
Interactions: open

Newt crouched behind a stack of old crates discarded by the side of a building. The flow of people walking by was going in the wrong direction to see the doppelganger's strange figure. Their long fingers drummed across the ground as they looked for a suitable person to copy. Someone not too tall, not too noticeable in a crowd, preferably one with extremely average features.

There, a young woman with long brown hair pinned up in a bun, her face was forgettable and her mind was devoid of any thoughts other then getting home without trouble.
Newt's body shifted color and shape quickly to copy her. Long fingers became short and tan flesh grew over their wiry frame. Tendril's grew from the doppelganger's body to weave together and form an organic version of the woman's clothing.

Newt stood up and brushed dirt of their new guise. A slight smile appeared on their face as they practiced walking with new legs.

Fishtastic

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September 23, 2020 11:28:43

Newt - Somewhere
Interactions: open

Newt crouched behind a stack of old crates discarded by the side of a building. The flow of people walking by was going in the wrong direction to see the doppelganger's strange figure. Their long fingers drummed across the ground as they looked for a suitable person to copy. Someone not too tall, not too noticeable in a crowd, preferably one with extremely average features.

There, a young woman with long brown hair pinned up in a bun, her face was forgettable and her mind was devoid of any thoughts other then getting home without trouble.
Newt's body shifted color and shape quickly to copy her. Long fingers became short and tan flesh grew over their wiry frame. Tendril's grew from the doppelganger's body to weave together and form an organic version of the woman's clothing.

Newt stood up and brushed dirt of their new guise. A slight smile appeared on their face as they practiced walking with new legs.

Jazmine - Tavern
Interacting With - Cynric (@Kingman)

Jazmine looked around the tavern, scanning the patrons. No one jumped out, not at first. It was just a fairly normal group of patrons, sipping their beer, mead, or whatever else. No one that seemed to be a danger to her.

Jazmine froze when her eyes landed on a man sitting in the corner. She felt some vague hint of recognition, but couldn't quite place it. She couldn't conjure up a name, or where she knew him from. Nothing...

Fear seized her heart as she realized who, or what, she was looking at. An Assassin. Not someone she knew, not too well, but she'd seen him around the guild. Jazmine's mind raced for a way to get out of it. For a way to run away.

If he knows I've seen him, he might chase me. I don't want to fight... Especially not here.

Jazmine began to ease herself up, occasionally glancing back at the man to see if he'd noticed her. She swung her legs out and stood. As her feet hit the floor, Jazmine strode out of the tavern.

Rick - Town Square (not where Jazmine is, a town a few miles West)
Interacting With - Sam (@SanguineShadow)

Rick turned his head to face the sound of a barrel hitting the ground. A horse had reared up, which Rick watched with mild interest. He frowned when the rider got the horse under control, wishing that there was at least a little chaos.

Rick watched the rider as they slid off the horse. They carried themselves confidently, which Rick found appealing. They radiated an air of danger, and Rick vaguely recognized them. Shrugging, he decided to follow the rider at a distance. Maybe they were somewhat interesting.

ChaoticPotato

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September 23, 2020 12:23:25

Jazmine - Tavern
Interacting With - Cynric (@Kingman)

Jazmine looked around the tavern, scanning the patrons. No one jumped out, not at first. It was just a fairly normal group of patrons, sipping their beer, mead, or whatever else. No one that seemed to be a danger to her.

Jazmine froze when her eyes landed on a man sitting in the corner. She felt some vague hint of recognition, but couldn't quite place it. She couldn't conjure up a name, or where she knew him from. Nothing...

Fear seized her heart as she realized who, or what, she was looking at. An Assassin. Not someone she knew, not too well, but she'd seen him around the guild. Jazmine's mind raced for a way to get out of it. For a way to run away.

If he knows I've seen him, he might chase me. I don't want to fight... Especially not here.

Jazmine began to ease herself up, occasionally glancing back at the man to see if he'd noticed her. She swung her legs out and stood. As her feet hit the floor, Jazmine strode out of the tavern.

Rick - Town Square (not where Jazmine is, a town a few miles West)
Interacting With - Sam (@SanguineShadow)

Rick turned his head to face the sound of a barrel hitting the ground. A horse had reared up, which Rick watched with mild interest. He frowned when the rider got the horse under control, wishing that there was at least a little chaos.

Rick watched the rider as they slid off the horse. They carried themselves confidently, which Rick found appealing. They radiated an air of danger, and Rick vaguely recognized them. Shrugging, he decided to follow the rider at a distance. Maybe they were somewhat interesting.

Big fan of RP and mafia games, also super hyped for ArtFight this year

Oh and I also used to be Dragonclaw101

Clayton Academy

Neph- Somwhere
Open for interactions

Neph wandered the streets of a town, a bubble of space surrounded him. Even though he was wearing a cloak his blue hands were there, as was his ever swishing tail and the constant jitter and shivers that raced through him. Then there was the cold that came from him, it was like standing next to a freezer. Once again, Neph was being ignored and avoided, feared and separated. With a sigh Neph looked up at the sky, pausing momentarily to try and get his bearings. I'm in some town. Where, I'm not sure. All I know is that this little peace won't last long, the guild will be after me. Maybe they won't care about me because I'm delta rank. Deep down, Npeh knew that last part wasn't true. He put a hand on his left shoulder, where his tattoo was, and continued walking.

Scales25

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September 23, 2020 18:02:49

Neph- Somwhere
Open for interactions

Neph wandered the streets of a town, a bubble of space surrounded him. Even though he was wearing a cloak his blue hands were there, as was his ever swishing tail and the constant jitter and shivers that raced through him. Then there was the cold that came from him, it was like standing next to a freezer. Once again, Neph was being ignored and avoided, feared and separated. With a sigh Neph looked up at the sky, pausing momentarily to try and get his bearings. I'm in some town. Where, I'm not sure. All I know is that this little peace won't last long, the guild will be after me. Maybe they won't care about me because I'm delta rank. Deep down, Npeh knew that last part wasn't true. He put a hand on his left shoulder, where his tattoo was, and continued walking.

Last edited on Sep 23, 2020 18:03:29 by Scales25

Sam - Western Town
Interacting with - Open | Mentions - Rick (@dragonclaw101)

Leading a 17.2hh horse through a crowd of people who seemed quite intimidated by the large gelding was quite the win in Sam's book. As much as she loved people, they seriously needed to get out of her way because she was not going to pay to have their foot amputated by the local cobbler if Varien accidentally placed a hoof wrong.

The stables was a short walk towards the other edge of the small town, a smaller barn with a few stalls that looked like they hadn't been cleaned in months. A young boy looked to be the groom, as he was currently trying to get the mud off a mare's saddle-sore ridden back and struggling as she kept swinging herself into him and knocking him off his step stool.

"Hey, kid, where's your boss? You have any stalls open?" She halted Varien and flashed the groom a grin as he nearly fell off his bucket. He nodded yes to her, then ran off to find whoever was in charge.

Sam found herself standing for a couple minutes, looking over the thatched roof, running her fingers along Schatten's leather sheath as Varien started pawing the ground impatiently.
An uneasy feeling rose in her gut, and she felt the need to glance around her for signs of being followed, a familiar face, anything that could hint danger. Nothing seemed to strike her as dangerous in this sleepy little town except poor house construction and the overabundance of children running around underfoot, but she couldn't shake the tingle off the back of her neck.

She thought she made eye contact with a familiar looking man for a second, but she figured her imagination was playing tricks on her and ignored her overly suspicious gut.

When the groom came back with a pot-bellied, sour-smelling older man, dressed in dark, muggy rags and a straw hat, Sam smiled at them, remaining friendly even though the guy looked like an arse.
"We're outta stalls." He looked her over with his greasy dark eyes, resting them on places Sam wasn't too sure she was okay with, but locking onto her daggers like a thief would gawp at law enforcement as they were caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Sam clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders, tilting her head at the man slightly as her honey-colored eyes caught the sunlight with a golden glint.
"You've literally got four stalls unoccupied, sir. I've got the money, I just need it for one night." Her tone remained polite and friendly, but with a stern air behind it. Her hand rested lightly on Schatten's obsidian black pommel, and as she spoke her eyes locked with his. Intimidation might work- or it might get her chased off even faster.

Luckily for her the guy was a chump. He cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before nodding.
"Fine. But it ain't cheap." He listed off a high price, which Sam agreed too, since she'd had the luck of raiding the Guild's treasurey before leaving and had a nice little coinpurse to keep herself relatively fed on her mission.

The boy took Varien's reins without much fright, since the big gray gelding was careful of smaller people and had a sweet, obedient disposition even if he was an oversized chicken at times. Sam patted the horse on the rump as she walked away, which led to a tail being flopped over her shoulders and a little nicker as he followed the groom to his stall.

Now I need to find a place to rest. She thought to herself, a bit sourly. Hopefully not everyone in this town was as cranky as that old guy. She walked back the way she came, her eyes carefully scanning crowd for anyone familiar.
She'd start asking about a taller-than-average woman who was as skittish as a deer later. For now, she just needed to rest.

SanguineShadow

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September 23, 2020 20:14:03

Sam - Western Town
Interacting with - Open | Mentions - Rick (@dragonclaw101)

Leading a 17.2hh horse through a crowd of people who seemed quite intimidated by the large gelding was quite the win in Sam's book. As much as she loved people, they seriously needed to get out of her way because she was not going to pay to have their foot amputated by the local cobbler if Varien accidentally placed a hoof wrong.

The stables was a short walk towards the other edge of the small town, a smaller barn with a few stalls that looked like they hadn't been cleaned in months. A young boy looked to be the groom, as he was currently trying to get the mud off a mare's saddle-sore ridden back and struggling as she kept swinging herself into him and knocking him off his step stool.

"Hey, kid, where's your boss? You have any stalls open?" She halted Varien and flashed the groom a grin as he nearly fell off his bucket. He nodded yes to her, then ran off to find whoever was in charge.

Sam found herself standing for a couple minutes, looking over the thatched roof, running her fingers along Schatten's leather sheath as Varien started pawing the ground impatiently.
An uneasy feeling rose in her gut, and she felt the need to glance around her for signs of being followed, a familiar face, anything that could hint danger. Nothing seemed to strike her as dangerous in this sleepy little town except poor house construction and the overabundance of children running around underfoot, but she couldn't shake the tingle off the back of her neck.

She thought she made eye contact with a familiar looking man for a second, but she figured her imagination was playing tricks on her and ignored her overly suspicious gut.

When the groom came back with a pot-bellied, sour-smelling older man, dressed in dark, muggy rags and a straw hat, Sam smiled at them, remaining friendly even though the guy looked like an arse.
"We're outta stalls." He looked her over with his greasy dark eyes, resting them on places Sam wasn't too sure she was okay with, but locking onto her daggers like a thief would gawp at law enforcement as they were caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Sam clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders, tilting her head at the man slightly as her honey-colored eyes caught the sunlight with a golden glint.
"You've literally got four stalls unoccupied, sir. I've got the money, I just need it for one night." Her tone remained polite and friendly, but with a stern air behind it. Her hand rested lightly on Schatten's obsidian black pommel, and as she spoke her eyes locked with his. Intimidation might work- or it might get her chased off even faster.

Luckily for her the guy was a chump. He cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before nodding.
"Fine. But it ain't cheap." He listed off a high price, which Sam agreed too, since she'd had the luck of raiding the Guild's treasurey before leaving and had a nice little coinpurse to keep herself relatively fed on her mission.

The boy took Varien's reins without much fright, since the big gray gelding was careful of smaller people and had a sweet, obedient disposition even if he was an oversized chicken at times. Sam patted the horse on the rump as she walked away, which led to a tail being flopped over her shoulders and a little nicker as he followed the groom to his stall.

Now I need to find a place to rest. She thought to herself, a bit sourly. Hopefully not everyone in this town was as cranky as that old guy. She walked back the way she came, her eyes carefully scanning crowd for anyone familiar.
She'd start asking about a taller-than-average woman who was as skittish as a deer later. For now, she just needed to rest.

.....
.....
.....

San/Sanguine
She/Her
Give me Pumpkin Spice before I remove your kneecap privileges

Cynric - Outside Tavern - (@dragonclaw101 ) Jazmine (like 10 feet from her)

Cynric had only narrowed his eyes at the woman and now she was striding away. Somewhere in his addled mind whispered a voice saying ‘why did I do wrong?’-which was mostly likely a thought rather than any mystic voice.
He itched his cheek thoughtfully before the sudden urge to vomit overcame him. He wobbled to his feet, pushing off the wall and getting a few steps before puking on a watching patron.
“EY! WHAT’S THE BLOODY-“ the disgusted customer yelled, front all bile, metal glinting as he pulled a short knife from a sheath.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” was all the syllables Cynric had to say for himself before the man shoved the knife at a him, lips curled back to reveal ugly yellow teeth. The point slid easily through muscle and artery in his left arm, shoving Cynric, off balance, back into the wall.

His hand was curled around Vice.
“You ******’ stabbed me!” Cynric said, incredulously, sword flashing as the unarmored customer’s chest was gored through as he went in for another stab.
That was a mistake.
All eyes were quiet for a second as they stared at the mortally wounded man, to the one with vomit in his beard, then back again at the bloody sword and knife.
Then all hell broke loose.
Men screamed as Cynric bolted (as best an incredibly drunk man could) through them, stumbling and almost tripping onto his sword as the Scandinavian took a plant onto his face outside the bar, face going directly into wood, nose feeling a great dam of blood break loose from the nasal arteries.

The blood splattered on him did not make him look innocent, that was for sure. The massive woman was a bit in front of him, and every villager did a double take as he peeled himself off the ground and ran.
Patrons blasted through the front doors of the tavern, screaming bloody vengeance, anger spewing from every cavity.
Cynric was several yards away, mounting a thick-bodied bay that was not his. He whistled out, spurring the horse in the side.
“You ********, HE STABBED ME FIRST!” he shouted, words slurring as the horse around off.
His escape was going very well for the first three seconds, until the world flipped and Cynric ended up in the mud.

What was worse was that his spear, grabbed haphazardly, slipped from his grip, rolling a few feet away from his reach. His sword was trapped under his body.
Cynric groaned.
Death by mead was not working out so well for him.

Kingman

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September 23, 2020 21:28:52

Cynric - Outside Tavern - (@dragonclaw101 ) Jazmine (like 10 feet from her)

Cynric had only narrowed his eyes at the woman and now she was striding away. Somewhere in his addled mind whispered a voice saying ‘why did I do wrong?’-which was mostly likely a thought rather than any mystic voice.
He itched his cheek thoughtfully before the sudden urge to vomit overcame him. He wobbled to his feet, pushing off the wall and getting a few steps before puking on a watching patron.
“EY! WHAT’S THE BLOODY-“ the disgusted customer yelled, front all bile, metal glinting as he pulled a short knife from a sheath.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” was all the syllables Cynric had to say for himself before the man shoved the knife at a him, lips curled back to reveal ugly yellow teeth. The point slid easily through muscle and artery in his left arm, shoving Cynric, off balance, back into the wall.

His hand was curled around Vice.
“You ******’ stabbed me!” Cynric said, incredulously, sword flashing as the unarmored customer’s chest was gored through as he went in for another stab.
That was a mistake.
All eyes were quiet for a second as they stared at the mortally wounded man, to the one with vomit in his beard, then back again at the bloody sword and knife.
Then all hell broke loose.
Men screamed as Cynric bolted (as best an incredibly drunk man could) through them, stumbling and almost tripping onto his sword as the Scandinavian took a plant onto his face outside the bar, face going directly into wood, nose feeling a great dam of blood break loose from the nasal arteries.

The blood splattered on him did not make him look innocent, that was for sure. The massive woman was a bit in front of him, and every villager did a double take as he peeled himself off the ground and ran.
Patrons blasted through the front doors of the tavern, screaming bloody vengeance, anger spewing from every cavity.
Cynric was several yards away, mounting a thick-bodied bay that was not his. He whistled out, spurring the horse in the side.
“You ********, HE STABBED ME FIRST!” he shouted, words slurring as the horse around off.
His escape was going very well for the first three seconds, until the world flipped and Cynric ended up in the mud.

What was worse was that his spear, grabbed haphazardly, slipped from his grip, rolling a few feet away from his reach. His sword was trapped under his body.
Cynric groaned.
Death by mead was not working out so well for him.

| King | Under 18 | He/Him|

My hobby is bad things I love

Hilde - Exiting Newt's location
Interacting with: Open

Hilde kept her head down and moved with the flow away from town. While she had successfully offloaded some of her wares, her main purpose—to ferret out information about Ivo—had gone nowhere.

She could deal with the honest refusals, even the lewd jokes from some of the more pathetic men ("He's my brother, you mangy excuses for scurvy curs!" didn't seem to help, but at least it made her feel better). No, the worst was the gentle counsel of the older sailors to give it up. They'd shake their heads and say that losing someone without a body to bury hit hard, but it was, unfortunately, not uncommon. Best to let it go and mourn, they said.

She refused, and she persisted. Even if the guards had power beyond this town, they'd be of no help. If Ivo were still a child or even a wayward teen, she might find some sympathetic lieutenant willing to help. But he had come of age nigh a year ago, and grown men were free to come and go as they pleased.

In that vein, Ivo's captain seemed to be of the opinion that since they were neither the Navy nor one of the more profitable merchant companies, they had no duty to go after deserters. Hilde wondered how in the realms such a business managed to stay afloat but kept her mouth shut; experience taught her that those questions provoked at best, a clipped "not your business" and at worst, a tail for weeks or months and her friends and family receiving some...friendly reminders. She didn't really know why; she kept her own books well enough to get by, but she was a shepherd, not a guard or tax inspector. Then again, if she were laundering money, she'd rather be safe than sorry...

Anyway. Ivo hadn't deserted; Mother and Father had raised them to be honest. On the off chance Ivo decided this wasn't for him but couldn't bring himself to tell the captain or quartermaster, he'd at least tell her. They'd had their differences, but she'd made it clear that they would always be siblings. She supported his decision to join a merchant crew after Ivo persuaded her he understood the risks; their parents had been much more reluctant to let him leave. But she hadn't received anything, and no one else had news of him, either.

The realms forbid he had met an untimely death, but if he had...well, she hoped not, but she wanted to at least know. She knew there'd be no chance of a body, but anything beat nothing at all. A factor in this mess in her favor is that he had disembarked at the last port of call. If he had somehow done something brash and attracted the ire of the crew, why vanish a body on land when you could do it on the open seas, away from the eyes of the law?

Hilde shook her head. Such dark thoughts signaled a tired mind in dire need of food, drink, and rest. She couldn't get home fast enough.

nuttysaladtree

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September 24, 2020 17:05:52

Hilde - Exiting Newt's location
Interacting with: Open

Hilde kept her head down and moved with the flow away from town. While she had successfully offloaded some of her wares, her main purpose—to ferret out information about Ivo—had gone nowhere.

She could deal with the honest refusals, even the lewd jokes from some of the more pathetic men ("He's my brother, you mangy excuses for scurvy curs!" didn't seem to help, but at least it made her feel better). No, the worst was the gentle counsel of the older sailors to give it up. They'd shake their heads and say that losing someone without a body to bury hit hard, but it was, unfortunately, not uncommon. Best to let it go and mourn, they said.

She refused, and she persisted. Even if the guards had power beyond this town, they'd be of no help. If Ivo were still a child or even a wayward teen, she might find some sympathetic lieutenant willing to help. But he had come of age nigh a year ago, and grown men were free to come and go as they pleased.

In that vein, Ivo's captain seemed to be of the opinion that since they were neither the Navy nor one of the more profitable merchant companies, they had no duty to go after deserters. Hilde wondered how in the realms such a business managed to stay afloat but kept her mouth shut; experience taught her that those questions provoked at best, a clipped "not your business" and at worst, a tail for weeks or months and her friends and family receiving some...friendly reminders. She didn't really know why; she kept her own books well enough to get by, but she was a shepherd, not a guard or tax inspector. Then again, if she were laundering money, she'd rather be safe than sorry...

Anyway. Ivo hadn't deserted; Mother and Father had raised them to be honest. On the off chance Ivo decided this wasn't for him but couldn't bring himself to tell the captain or quartermaster, he'd at least tell her. They'd had their differences, but she'd made it clear that they would always be siblings. She supported his decision to join a merchant crew after Ivo persuaded her he understood the risks; their parents had been much more reluctant to let him leave. But she hadn't received anything, and no one else had news of him, either.

The realms forbid he had met an untimely death, but if he had...well, she hoped not, but she wanted to at least know. She knew there'd be no chance of a body, but anything beat nothing at all. A factor in this mess in her favor is that he had disembarked at the last port of call. If he had somehow done something brash and attracted the ire of the crew, why vanish a body on land when you could do it on the open seas, away from the eyes of the law?

Hilde shook her head. Such dark thoughts signaled a tired mind in dire need of food, drink, and rest. She couldn't get home fast enough.

When people draw up a warm bath and put in flower petals,

Writing Prompts
are they bathing in flower tea?

Neph- Newt's loctaion
Interacting with Hilde (@nuttysaladtree)

As Neph looked around the crowd and saw a lady who was walking home. He turned away from her to see.. the same lady walking around behind some boxes. That's... oh dear. Neph thought as he panickily turned away from the second lady and went after the first. Finally, he caught up to the lady. "H-Hey!" He said, hoping the sudden drop in temperature wouldn't startle this lady. "P-Please slow d-down!"

Scales25

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September 24, 2020 17:24:46

Neph- Newt's loctaion
Interacting with Hilde (@nuttysaladtree)

As Neph looked around the crowd and saw a lady who was walking home. He turned away from her to see.. the same lady walking around behind some boxes. That's... oh dear. Neph thought as he panickily turned away from the second lady and went after the first. Finally, he caught up to the lady. "H-Hey!" He said, hoping the sudden drop in temperature wouldn't startle this lady. "P-Please slow d-down!"