@KazeXDZ Robert laughs and says to him." me and friend no no no i have few friends here. And a basilisk you say?" Robert strokes his chin as he thinks about it." hmmm sword what do you say?" I'm fine with it so long as your not alone." Robert looks at the men happiness written over his face. of course ill join you. you don't expect me to miss such an opportunity." However i have to get some things in order when do we leave?" He Said as he saw an old man approaching." What do you want old man."If coin is what you seek, there is rumor of a bounty worth much much more than that of a 'Grand Basilisk'. Hidden deep within the mountains, you'd find gold and jewels beyond your imagination, enough to make you rich beyond your wildest dreams, not to mention the bounty in which I'd like for you to procure. So what do you say, boys?" Robert understood half of that for he was already dreaming what to with the money. to rebuild his homeland to become rich to do whatever he wanted. he could already see the castle in front of him." HEY SNAP OUT OF IT!""umm well yes please however a map would be nice if ya know where we could get one that would be great."
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boomlover The godfather of explosions
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The Fated Fallen Doesn't know what to put here
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Having taken some steps outside the door of the hospital and engaging in a quick conversation with a guard Tirarrian found out the guard captain was in fact back where she started. Bloody typical, she though re-opening the door. When she did, the elf lady was no-where to be seen. Well at least she won't be able to ask me to leave, thought Tirarrian, before making her way inside to try and find her companions.
Skulking the corridors for a short while earned Tirarrian an uneasy feeling she couldn't shake. She'd seen sick people before, but only in a swift exchange of coin and goods. Gore and viscera Tirarrian could deal with, but not disease. Fortunately most patients in the building were of the attack today, so burns and the occasional laceration victims stuffed the rooms to almost full capacity. So much devastation from just a single attack. Tirarrian planned she would find her friends and hopefully Kayleth, and offer to help with the wounded
It wasn't too much longer before she found Izzy and Durin sullenly sitting in a secluded room towards the back of the building. Tirarrian entered and took a seat by the door, wanting to talk to Kayleth but also not wanting to distract her
Skulking the corridors for a short while earned Tirarrian an uneasy feeling she couldn't shake. She'd seen sick people before, but only in a swift exchange of coin and goods. Gore and viscera Tirarrian could deal with, but not disease. Fortunately most patients in the building were of the attack today, so burns and the occasional laceration victims stuffed the rooms to almost full capacity. So much devastation from just a single attack. Tirarrian planned she would find her friends and hopefully Kayleth, and offer to help with the wounded
It wasn't too much longer before she found Izzy and Durin sullenly sitting in a secluded room towards the back of the building. Tirarrian entered and took a seat by the door, wanting to talk to Kayleth but also not wanting to distract her
GM
Izzy sighed softly. This was probably a top second reason why she hated these places. But this was nor the place or time to make a fuss.
She nodded to the girl in appreciation for a change of clothes, whenever that would come, and started undoing her bracers. They were plain black leather bracers, faded and worn, with two straps finished with might have once been silver buckles to hold them in place. Next to go was her cowl, which she lifted over her head and unwrapped the fabric from around her. Her hair poofed up some, though despite being disturbed, it retained it's shape and style.
Her demenor changed completely however, when she moved her fingers to release the clasps of her shirt. It was a crimson, cloth shirt, enhanced with a black leather bodice that wrapped around her, from bust to waist. The now shredded sleeves were loose fitting, flaring at the elbows and tapered at the wrists. Without the cowl, the shirt was shown to have a modest neck line, one clasp was located here, while another held the bottom of the bodice together. The bodice itself was bound by a deep red cord that tied down the back. She neither flushed nor fussed, though she shifted with discomfort by the time she got to undoing to cord that bound her bodice. Pinning the shirt to her chest with her hand, she carefully made her way out of the sleeves.
She was normally alone in any of these situations, no one but the medic to explain her actions to, and no one but the walls to notice her scars. But if anyone looked, they'd see the lash marks and burns on her back, the thick scars that encircled her wrists. Whatever tale they told, that's what she seemed more uncomfortable about. But there was something else too. Shame was embedded in her eyes as her head hung low, her chin driving towards her chest as if to help keep her shirt from falling.
She remained quiet through the whole process, only hoping it would be over soon. The idea of dinner seemed to have slipped from her mind, the only thing that occupied her thoughts was sleep.
If this day can just end and we can move onto tomorrow, that would be great. My wounds aren't even that bad, just someone get me out of here, she thought to herself. And then she noticed Tirarrian. She has returned .... but why?
@Dragoknighte @The Fated Fallen
She nodded to the girl in appreciation for a change of clothes, whenever that would come, and started undoing her bracers. They were plain black leather bracers, faded and worn, with two straps finished with might have once been silver buckles to hold them in place. Next to go was her cowl, which she lifted over her head and unwrapped the fabric from around her. Her hair poofed up some, though despite being disturbed, it retained it's shape and style.
Her demenor changed completely however, when she moved her fingers to release the clasps of her shirt. It was a crimson, cloth shirt, enhanced with a black leather bodice that wrapped around her, from bust to waist. The now shredded sleeves were loose fitting, flaring at the elbows and tapered at the wrists. Without the cowl, the shirt was shown to have a modest neck line, one clasp was located here, while another held the bottom of the bodice together. The bodice itself was bound by a deep red cord that tied down the back. She neither flushed nor fussed, though she shifted with discomfort by the time she got to undoing to cord that bound her bodice. Pinning the shirt to her chest with her hand, she carefully made her way out of the sleeves.
She was normally alone in any of these situations, no one but the medic to explain her actions to, and no one but the walls to notice her scars. But if anyone looked, they'd see the lash marks and burns on her back, the thick scars that encircled her wrists. Whatever tale they told, that's what she seemed more uncomfortable about. But there was something else too. Shame was embedded in her eyes as her head hung low, her chin driving towards her chest as if to help keep her shirt from falling.
She remained quiet through the whole process, only hoping it would be over soon. The idea of dinner seemed to have slipped from her mind, the only thing that occupied her thoughts was sleep.
If this day can just end and we can move onto tomorrow, that would be great. My wounds aren't even that bad, just someone get me out of here, she thought to herself. And then she noticed Tirarrian. She has returned .... but why?
@Dragoknighte @The Fated Fallen
Dragoknighte
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2 mos ago
Kayleth patiently waited for Durin and Isabaeu to disrobe as she got ready for any impending surgery she may or may not have to perform. She knew her hands were clean, but the blood stained the otherwise pure white skin of her hands. She knew it would take a day or two to disappear, but a lot of people were unnerved by it in the meantime. Simply looking at the dwarf she could easily diagnose that the only problem with him was blood loss and the hole in his chest. It didn't pierce through, so it wouldn't be as difficult as it could be. The human on the other hand would be simpler but more difficult at the same time.
Ashara touched Tirarrian lightly on the shoulder. In her hands were two large loose-fitting white tunics that were obviously of a finer make than most cloth available in Waeldeshore. Surprisingly, she had made almost no noise approaching the gnome from behind.
"I must ask you to please wait in the front of the store. Your presence here could distract the doctor." She spoke in a soft, high pitched voice. One that didn't sound older than a 16 year old human.
"As long as she remains quiet and doesn't stick her nose in my operation, she should be fine," Kayleth interrupted as she got to work on inspecting Izzy's body. "That includes looking through any of my tools or medicines and bothering any of my patients. They need rest if they're too recover." Ashara nodded and handed the clothes to Tirarrian, leaving to tend to the rest of the wounded. Kayleth's hands worked quickly, giving on the lightest of touches as they danced across her skin. They were reminiscent of a spider weaving a web in the dim light of dawn. Her hands were cold, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Occasionally the fingers would pause, pushing or pulling the skin as Kayleth looked a bit closer, but soon enough they would resume their journey to all of the wounds on Izzy's body. After a few minutes the elf took a step back.
"With proper treatment and rest I can have these completely healed in 2 days. Not a trace of scab or scars. If you don't want to bother with waiting here for that long, you can leave immediately after I finish. You'll need to keep the bandages on for 5 to 7 days though. You must not remove them before 5 days have passed." Kayleth then addressed the dwarf. "You I will need to stay here for three days at least unless you want to lose the function of your left arm. We'll prepare for your surgery immediately after I finish with her."
@IcePezz @The Fated Fallen
Ashara touched Tirarrian lightly on the shoulder. In her hands were two large loose-fitting white tunics that were obviously of a finer make than most cloth available in Waeldeshore. Surprisingly, she had made almost no noise approaching the gnome from behind.
"I must ask you to please wait in the front of the store. Your presence here could distract the doctor." She spoke in a soft, high pitched voice. One that didn't sound older than a 16 year old human.
"As long as she remains quiet and doesn't stick her nose in my operation, she should be fine," Kayleth interrupted as she got to work on inspecting Izzy's body. "That includes looking through any of my tools or medicines and bothering any of my patients. They need rest if they're too recover." Ashara nodded and handed the clothes to Tirarrian, leaving to tend to the rest of the wounded. Kayleth's hands worked quickly, giving on the lightest of touches as they danced across her skin. They were reminiscent of a spider weaving a web in the dim light of dawn. Her hands were cold, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Occasionally the fingers would pause, pushing or pulling the skin as Kayleth looked a bit closer, but soon enough they would resume their journey to all of the wounds on Izzy's body. After a few minutes the elf took a step back.
"With proper treatment and rest I can have these completely healed in 2 days. Not a trace of scab or scars. If you don't want to bother with waiting here for that long, you can leave immediately after I finish. You'll need to keep the bandages on for 5 to 7 days though. You must not remove them before 5 days have passed." Kayleth then addressed the dwarf. "You I will need to stay here for three days at least unless you want to lose the function of your left arm. We'll prepare for your surgery immediately after I finish with her."
@IcePezz @The Fated Fallen
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The Harbinger of Ferocity
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2 yrs ago
With toughened fingers resting upon the hilt of a markedly aged bronze hilt, one with worn brown leather bindings taut around it, the truly wild eyes of a man far out of place parted through the people of the wounded town. He, the so called "Red", stood out among commoners and adventurers alike just by his choice in garb, be it the battered leather traveler's boots he wore, the truly seasoned sword across his hip, or the fact alone he wore as a hood the skin of a very large lioness, whose tremendous hide draped down his back. But there was no sense in hiding among these people - his demeanor alone, that air of predatory vigor, was tangible - either they would, or would not approve of him and the latter many chose, enough so that he was offered no cover and concealment as he stood beside the stone of a building.
Gritting his teeth lightly, of which displayed the drift's touches to his mortal self in their nearly animal pronouncement, he watched intently as a cadre of well armed and armored men seem to set about a small portion of the town. His suspicions, what few he had left at this point, were all but confirmed, as not only had he managed into the city without harassment, but the people were preoccupied with something... namely their guardsmen were.
This was not what caught his keen vision however, it was the unusuality of what transpired in his sight.
As quickly as she stepped out the door of, what at first he assumed to be some collection of casualties exclusively, was a gnome in a unique set of traveling gear. Puzzled was her expression as she spoke to one of the guardsmen who seemingly treated her with some level of respect; a commoner she certainly was not, not with the elongated coat, belts and pouches beneath it, nor the apparent level of conversation she could hold with the soldiering sort. Out of subtle instinct, his head pitched lightly to its right and his eyes narrowed as she left in a huff back through the same door she initially exited.
Strange was it; something about the situation gave him the intuitive sense that she was related to whatever had happened here - whatever evil force he could still smell lingering in the air.
Removing his large, strong hand from the scarred bronze pommel of the scimitar, "The Red" rumbled beneath his breath; "If only this were elsewhere this would be short work."
With a step to the side, the distinct man seemingly vanished from sight; the guard, having begun to scan the town once more blinked in minor confusion from the sensation of having been watched for some time. His focus elsewhere, the leather clad figure slipped aside and around the building the gnome disappeared within - minding his shadows and silhouette with every fall of his foot. Avoiding the windows as he did, his palm soon found itself to the back door of the hospital, of which was an idea not known to the savage as he allowed himself inside. As quietly as a tiger's footfall he tread in, shutting it behind him.
The world around him was busy and the scent offensive. There was injury and illness in this place, and it tasted vile.
Things became momentarily quiet as many eyes settled upon him, both the injured and the attendees - as though an angel of death had just settled in amongst their midst. Turning to face his witnesses, "The Red" took one slow, deliberate look at their wounded lot, all of whom remained hushed; they were visibly uncertain if he was friend or foe, or even a man at all, wearing the hood as he was. Lingering no longer than he needed, his methodical pace carried him down a hall.
The hunt continued.
@Dragoknighte@IcePezz@The Fated Fallen
Gritting his teeth lightly, of which displayed the drift's touches to his mortal self in their nearly animal pronouncement, he watched intently as a cadre of well armed and armored men seem to set about a small portion of the town. His suspicions, what few he had left at this point, were all but confirmed, as not only had he managed into the city without harassment, but the people were preoccupied with something... namely their guardsmen were.
This was not what caught his keen vision however, it was the unusuality of what transpired in his sight.
As quickly as she stepped out the door of, what at first he assumed to be some collection of casualties exclusively, was a gnome in a unique set of traveling gear. Puzzled was her expression as she spoke to one of the guardsmen who seemingly treated her with some level of respect; a commoner she certainly was not, not with the elongated coat, belts and pouches beneath it, nor the apparent level of conversation she could hold with the soldiering sort. Out of subtle instinct, his head pitched lightly to its right and his eyes narrowed as she left in a huff back through the same door she initially exited.
Strange was it; something about the situation gave him the intuitive sense that she was related to whatever had happened here - whatever evil force he could still smell lingering in the air.
Removing his large, strong hand from the scarred bronze pommel of the scimitar, "The Red" rumbled beneath his breath; "If only this were elsewhere this would be short work."
With a step to the side, the distinct man seemingly vanished from sight; the guard, having begun to scan the town once more blinked in minor confusion from the sensation of having been watched for some time. His focus elsewhere, the leather clad figure slipped aside and around the building the gnome disappeared within - minding his shadows and silhouette with every fall of his foot. Avoiding the windows as he did, his palm soon found itself to the back door of the hospital, of which was an idea not known to the savage as he allowed himself inside. As quietly as a tiger's footfall he tread in, shutting it behind him.
The world around him was busy and the scent offensive. There was injury and illness in this place, and it tasted vile.
Things became momentarily quiet as many eyes settled upon him, both the injured and the attendees - as though an angel of death had just settled in amongst their midst. Turning to face his witnesses, "The Red" took one slow, deliberate look at their wounded lot, all of whom remained hushed; they were visibly uncertain if he was friend or foe, or even a man at all, wearing the hood as he was. Lingering no longer than he needed, his methodical pace carried him down a hall.
The hunt continued.
@Dragoknighte@IcePezz@The Fated Fallen
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The Fated Fallen Doesn't know what to put here
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3 yrs ago
Tirarrian jumped slightly at the touch of the nurse, who quickly spoke to calm an outcry from the Gnome. "I must ask you to please wait in the front of the store. Your presence here could distract the doctor." She said in her strange voice.
"Don't worry, I was being careful not to interrupt such delicate work." Tirarrian said in a hushed tone back.
"As long as she remains quiet and doesn't stick her nose in my operation, she should be fine," Kayleth spoke, not bothering to look back at the scene, displaying concentration bought through years of experience. She added, "That includes looking through any of my tools or medicines and bothering any of my patients. They need rest if they're too recover."
Well I never really intended to do any of that for the same reasons you stated, Tirarrian thought, and spoke up. "I know how annoying it can be to deal with nosey people. I was going to ask if you needed my assistance, you seem inundated with patients. I've brought a lot of my own supplies for burns, since they are a very common injury, and now how to deal with most common wounds. Do you mind me helping your patients?" Tirarrian smiled, and added "It'll also get me out of your hair."
@Dragoknighte@IcePezz@The Harbinger of Ferocity
"Don't worry, I was being careful not to interrupt such delicate work." Tirarrian said in a hushed tone back.
"As long as she remains quiet and doesn't stick her nose in my operation, she should be fine," Kayleth spoke, not bothering to look back at the scene, displaying concentration bought through years of experience. She added, "That includes looking through any of my tools or medicines and bothering any of my patients. They need rest if they're too recover."
Well I never really intended to do any of that for the same reasons you stated, Tirarrian thought, and spoke up. "I know how annoying it can be to deal with nosey people. I was going to ask if you needed my assistance, you seem inundated with patients. I've brought a lot of my own supplies for burns, since they are a very common injury, and now how to deal with most common wounds. Do you mind me helping your patients?" Tirarrian smiled, and added "It'll also get me out of your hair."
@Dragoknighte@IcePezz@The Harbinger of Ferocity
GM
"With proper treatment and rest I can have these completely healed in 2 days. Not a trace of scab or scars. If you don't want to bother with waiting here for that long, you can leave immediately after I finish. You'll need to keep the bandages on for 5 to 7 days though. You must not remove them before 5 days have passed." The rest of the woman's words seemed to blur, all she really heard was that the dwarf would be out of commission for the next three days.
Isabeau was a bit taken back by the response from the woman. She had come in here with just a few scratches and burns from the fight, and now she was being offered a chance to get rid of the scars that had haunted her these last few years. Her mouth became dry and suddenly it was hard to speak. "I'm not sure we could be out of commission for that long, m'lady. Yes, the fight against that last threat is over but ... there is something else coming. I just feel it."
The scars on her back and shoulders, the rings around her wrists, they had, for so long, brought her so much turmoil. They were a constant reminder of her past, but after carrying that burden for so long, could she truly let it go?
She cleared her throat and sat up straight. "Forgive me m'lady, I believe the dwarf was in more need of your help than I. All that I was looking for was treatment of the burns and lacerations from this most recent battle. I will follow what orders you give for that treatment, and that treatment alone, and to the best of my ability. But the sooner we can all return to the battlefield, the better. This town has no chance without us all. -We- have no chance of surviving it all if we just sit here on our asses waiting for our boo boo's to heal up.". Her face reddened as she ended what turned into a rant. She didn't know why she didn't take the chance to remove the scars, or where the courage came from to stand up to the healer. Courage or stupidity, she couldn't tell yet - she felt antsy, and knew they couldn't stay there. 3 days ... this woman is insane if she thinks we can sit here in this bloody shithole for that long and come out of it alive ... If I have to take this smell for three days, I'll die of suffocation. The demons won't even have a chance to eat the fat off my bones, it would just rot and melt right back into the ground before I make it out of here. Her kept her thoughts to herself, but the discomfort was still there. Every muscle in her body twitched with it.
She growled softly, but it was more directed at herself. Why did she have to be so difficult sometimes? More than anything, she just wanted out.
@The Fated Fallen @Dragoknighte @The Harbinger of Ferocity
Isabeau was a bit taken back by the response from the woman. She had come in here with just a few scratches and burns from the fight, and now she was being offered a chance to get rid of the scars that had haunted her these last few years. Her mouth became dry and suddenly it was hard to speak. "I'm not sure we could be out of commission for that long, m'lady. Yes, the fight against that last threat is over but ... there is something else coming. I just feel it."
The scars on her back and shoulders, the rings around her wrists, they had, for so long, brought her so much turmoil. They were a constant reminder of her past, but after carrying that burden for so long, could she truly let it go?
She cleared her throat and sat up straight. "Forgive me m'lady, I believe the dwarf was in more need of your help than I. All that I was looking for was treatment of the burns and lacerations from this most recent battle. I will follow what orders you give for that treatment, and that treatment alone, and to the best of my ability. But the sooner we can all return to the battlefield, the better. This town has no chance without us all. -We- have no chance of surviving it all if we just sit here on our asses waiting for our boo boo's to heal up.". Her face reddened as she ended what turned into a rant. She didn't know why she didn't take the chance to remove the scars, or where the courage came from to stand up to the healer. Courage or stupidity, she couldn't tell yet - she felt antsy, and knew they couldn't stay there. 3 days ... this woman is insane if she thinks we can sit here in this bloody shithole for that long and come out of it alive ... If I have to take this smell for three days, I'll die of suffocation. The demons won't even have a chance to eat the fat off my bones, it would just rot and melt right back into the ground before I make it out of here. Her kept her thoughts to herself, but the discomfort was still there. Every muscle in her body twitched with it.
She growled softly, but it was more directed at herself. Why did she have to be so difficult sometimes? More than anything, she just wanted out.
@The Fated Fallen @Dragoknighte @The Harbinger of Ferocity
Siegfried smiled at Robert. "Great. Then we shall-" He was cut off by an old man, however, talking of a greater reward. "That bounty does sound nice. And the findings even greater. However, I seek more than treasure. There is a village near the beast's lair. Why not do both. We can rid the village of the basilisk before heading towards the mountain for the greater reward." He stood with a stretch and a smile. "We'll meet in the morning. I'll let you worry about the details since you're already asking. I have other things to do before I'm ready." As he left the Inn, he pulled out and opened his locket, looking at the pair of children in the photo. With a sigh, he snapped it shut and began heading towards the nearest blacksmith.
Dragoknighte
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2 mos ago
"I said I could also have you done today if you so chose, Miss. If you do not wish to stay here, so be it. However, I cannot let the dwarf, sorry if you prefer to not be referred to as such, leave this place in good conscious before he is fully healed. A patch job could easily lead to the wound reopening, worsening or becoming infected." As she spoke to Izzy, she worked, covered her wounds with a strange salve that burned the wounds and was cold to the touch. Her fingers worked quickly, almost as if spurred on by magic such that by the time the word infected left her mouth, all the wounds had been salved and Kayleth began wrapping her up in bandages. Durin sat against the wall, staring blankly at the women. He was either bored, or starting to pass out from blood loss.
"However, if what you say is true, that the village needs you to survive in the near future, then I will make an exception. However, I will have to have somebody, either myself or my wonderful assistant watch him to make sure he doesn't stress the wound and bleed out. Or if he does overextend himself, be at hand to make sure he doesn't get everyone killed." Kayleth patted Izzy on the shoulder and stepped to the side, completely finished with patching up Izzy's injuries. "You can get dressed again, dear." The healer turned to grab a new set of jars and tools so she could get to work on the dwarf.
@IcePezz @The Fated Fallen
Red found his progress impeded almost immediately by Ashara, who seemed to come out of nowhere, even for his sharp senses.
"I'm going to have to ask you to return to the front of the store. We cannot have anybody wandering through our supply rooms." She spoke politely, but firmly to the man who towered over her, not a hint of apprehension present as she addressed the predatory man.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity
"However, if what you say is true, that the village needs you to survive in the near future, then I will make an exception. However, I will have to have somebody, either myself or my wonderful assistant watch him to make sure he doesn't stress the wound and bleed out. Or if he does overextend himself, be at hand to make sure he doesn't get everyone killed." Kayleth patted Izzy on the shoulder and stepped to the side, completely finished with patching up Izzy's injuries. "You can get dressed again, dear." The healer turned to grab a new set of jars and tools so she could get to work on the dwarf.
@IcePezz @The Fated Fallen
Red found his progress impeded almost immediately by Ashara, who seemed to come out of nowhere, even for his sharp senses.
"I'm going to have to ask you to return to the front of the store. We cannot have anybody wandering through our supply rooms." She spoke politely, but firmly to the man who towered over her, not a hint of apprehension present as she addressed the predatory man.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity
The Fated Fallen Doesn't know what to put here
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3 yrs ago
Tirarrian found herself at a quandry. She could either push an answer out of Kayleth, and distract her from helping Durin, or she could simply move off and help people of her own accord. Which would also distract Kayleth. She looked around in her puzzlement, and saw a strange man losing himself in the room, and having a stern talking to by Kayleth's assistant.
The man was unsettling to look at, and it was easy to see why. Almost all his clothes were made of animals, or what used to be animals. Leather bracers, furred chest-piece but most notably of all a lioness had been fashioned, almost whole, into a hood and cloak for him. It looked like fine protection from the elements, and even many attacks, but it did little to protect him from the eyes of everyone in the room. Indeed, it would be easy to follow a man like this if he travelled across the land because of his notable appearance. But that would require him to walk through villages and be seen, which upon closer inspection wasn't his style.
She broke down her conclusion, and analysed the points
As Kayleth's assistant talked to him his sharp green eyes darted about the room, a social faux pa. He stood with a stance that puffed himself up, as if he was always on edge, like there was always an unseen danger. He owned blade of fine make, which when put in combination with the animal hood may have marked him as a hunter, or a bounty collector, but he didn't flaunt his sword. People who put their blades up for hire always showed them off, the better the blade the more illustrious and skilled the swordsman. This man had it in a much more practical position. Sellswords would have it hoisted up near the stomach, whereas he had it far down by his hip, and strapped in well so it wouldn't jostle and be moved to be shown off better. The lioness hood was also not in perfect condition. Only noble's could afford such clothing, and they would only wear it to the greatest of social occasions. This man's cloak was dirty and torn in places, combined with his sturdy boots he was definitely a practical traveller, keeping the Lioness fur for it's protection and not opulence. A man that values practicality over image is not a man used to the upper echelons of society, yet such a lion hood would be the envy of any lord. This man clearly does not understand that such gear would cause a lot of unwanted attention in any settlement, since they are worth a king's ransom. Tirarrian pondered, So he must not be used to settlements in this country, and he doesn't look like a foreigner. He must be a far wilder folk. What draws him here?
She resolved to go talk to the man, putting helping the patients to the back of her mind. For all she knew, by getting rid of him she was helping them
@IcePezz@Dragoknighte@The Harbinger of Ferocity
The man was unsettling to look at, and it was easy to see why. Almost all his clothes were made of animals, or what used to be animals. Leather bracers, furred chest-piece but most notably of all a lioness had been fashioned, almost whole, into a hood and cloak for him. It looked like fine protection from the elements, and even many attacks, but it did little to protect him from the eyes of everyone in the room. Indeed, it would be easy to follow a man like this if he travelled across the land because of his notable appearance. But that would require him to walk through villages and be seen, which upon closer inspection wasn't his style.
She broke down her conclusion, and analysed the points
As Kayleth's assistant talked to him his sharp green eyes darted about the room, a social faux pa. He stood with a stance that puffed himself up, as if he was always on edge, like there was always an unseen danger. He owned blade of fine make, which when put in combination with the animal hood may have marked him as a hunter, or a bounty collector, but he didn't flaunt his sword. People who put their blades up for hire always showed them off, the better the blade the more illustrious and skilled the swordsman. This man had it in a much more practical position. Sellswords would have it hoisted up near the stomach, whereas he had it far down by his hip, and strapped in well so it wouldn't jostle and be moved to be shown off better. The lioness hood was also not in perfect condition. Only noble's could afford such clothing, and they would only wear it to the greatest of social occasions. This man's cloak was dirty and torn in places, combined with his sturdy boots he was definitely a practical traveller, keeping the Lioness fur for it's protection and not opulence. A man that values practicality over image is not a man used to the upper echelons of society, yet such a lion hood would be the envy of any lord. This man clearly does not understand that such gear would cause a lot of unwanted attention in any settlement, since they are worth a king's ransom. Tirarrian pondered, So he must not be used to settlements in this country, and he doesn't look like a foreigner. He must be a far wilder folk. What draws him here?
She resolved to go talk to the man, putting helping the patients to the back of her mind. For all she knew, by getting rid of him she was helping them
@IcePezz@Dragoknighte@The Harbinger of Ferocity
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
There came a long, lengthy pause which drew itself out for a few moments as the savage continued briefly - the fierce eyes shifting from their focus beyond to before him as a bold, lone woman approached. She issued a stern, albeit "polite" challenge to the man wreathed in the skin of the lioness in the way of her words. To a listener, nay even an observer, one could easily glean his reaction was certainly not insult, but absolute disregard for social protocol; it was the same sort of demeanor one would witness when a sense of customs clashed, with one party casting aside another's. He had, without doubt, quite literally walked himself into her home and carried with himself the authority as if he could care not at all about that fact.
"The Red" did not flinch as his growled voice issued an idle response, taking a step to the side; "You may ask."
His step wasn't spry - as if to avoid her, or dodge her - but it was authoritative in body language of a definite "no". It was... strange, in a way, that he communicated through expression and gesture rather than words alone. Even obscured under the fierce maw of a great huntress, his facial expression, attention and slightest of movements betrayed what social skills he clearly lacked; he was speaking another language altogether, and it spoke volumes to his true intentions before he even uttered them to Ashara.
"But I decline."
It took no longer than another breath following for his eyes to recognize the violet stare analyzing him.
His demeanor changed as the two, man and gnome, exchanged looks - to which his brow narrowed and his attention grew intensely. Gazing at him in the eye evoked the same response of challenge as one could attempt with a tiger, and only mortal intellect and animal cunning held back the aggression in this scenario, but it definitely did not make any attempt to conceal it. It was then "The Red" looked upon Tirarian, with a tilt of his head lightly forward; weight shifting on his toes - a note a well seasoned fighter would pick up upon of an opponent who's suspecting a surprise attack - and his stance, as broad and defensive as it was, almost seemed to bristle with non-existent fur. This was not a... conventional style of martial art, as it read like instinctive reaction.
But the wilder man neither did spring, nor did he relax, instead lifting a steady finger toward the small woman in the oversized longcoat. His exposed muscles beneath the shoulder flexed lightly, revealing a few faint elder scars in the process.
"Her." He began before looking partially back to Ashara, yet not for a moment leaving the gnomish woman out of the corner of his glare, "I will speak to her."
With elongated mane-like hair hanging free in parts beneath the lion skin cloak, the same coloration as the aged, worn beast he wore, he made himself no more opportune to attacks the entire time. All of this appeared quite methodical, for a savage. Wildmen were not well known for their cunning - they were known for their violence and practicality, which his scarred hide and flesh alongside the worn scimitar certainly spoke to. But this man? He was certainly no mere barbarian, as he himself had dashes of animal qualities to him that were unnatural, be them his hair, jaws or even fingers which themselves were slightly pawed; thick, strong digits that menaced as though clawed.
There was no doubt he did not belong here, but there was even less doubt that he cared not for if he did or didn't.
@The Fated Fallen@IcePezz@Dragoknighte
"The Red" did not flinch as his growled voice issued an idle response, taking a step to the side; "You may ask."
His step wasn't spry - as if to avoid her, or dodge her - but it was authoritative in body language of a definite "no". It was... strange, in a way, that he communicated through expression and gesture rather than words alone. Even obscured under the fierce maw of a great huntress, his facial expression, attention and slightest of movements betrayed what social skills he clearly lacked; he was speaking another language altogether, and it spoke volumes to his true intentions before he even uttered them to Ashara.
"But I decline."
It took no longer than another breath following for his eyes to recognize the violet stare analyzing him.
His demeanor changed as the two, man and gnome, exchanged looks - to which his brow narrowed and his attention grew intensely. Gazing at him in the eye evoked the same response of challenge as one could attempt with a tiger, and only mortal intellect and animal cunning held back the aggression in this scenario, but it definitely did not make any attempt to conceal it. It was then "The Red" looked upon Tirarian, with a tilt of his head lightly forward; weight shifting on his toes - a note a well seasoned fighter would pick up upon of an opponent who's suspecting a surprise attack - and his stance, as broad and defensive as it was, almost seemed to bristle with non-existent fur. This was not a... conventional style of martial art, as it read like instinctive reaction.
But the wilder man neither did spring, nor did he relax, instead lifting a steady finger toward the small woman in the oversized longcoat. His exposed muscles beneath the shoulder flexed lightly, revealing a few faint elder scars in the process.
"Her." He began before looking partially back to Ashara, yet not for a moment leaving the gnomish woman out of the corner of his glare, "I will speak to her."
With elongated mane-like hair hanging free in parts beneath the lion skin cloak, the same coloration as the aged, worn beast he wore, he made himself no more opportune to attacks the entire time. All of this appeared quite methodical, for a savage. Wildmen were not well known for their cunning - they were known for their violence and practicality, which his scarred hide and flesh alongside the worn scimitar certainly spoke to. But this man? He was certainly no mere barbarian, as he himself had dashes of animal qualities to him that were unnatural, be them his hair, jaws or even fingers which themselves were slightly pawed; thick, strong digits that menaced as though clawed.
There was no doubt he did not belong here, but there was even less doubt that he cared not for if he did or didn't.
@The Fated Fallen@IcePezz@Dragoknighte
GM
Her face reddened as Kayleth patted her shoulder. She wasn't sure what was more unnerving, Kayleth's calm and steady manner, or how quickly she finished up while making Isabeau look like a paranoid nitwit.
She seemed to have a knack for sticking her foot in her mouth lately. As much as she tried to stay quiet and observe, when she did decide to speak, it rarely worked out in her favor. Perhaps it had more to do with the fact that she was completely and utterly lost in her new role, whatever that was. She wasn't used to having to interact with others, or rely on others for help. She let out a heavy sigh and nodded to the woman.
Quickly and quietly, she moved off the stool and began to redress, leaving Kayleth to mend the dwarf's wounds. Her injuries left her muscles tender and sore. It was a chore just to bring her arms through the sleeves and near impossible to actually bind up the bodice. Finally, it was loose, but it was done.
During this time, Tirarrian managed to find herself a new friend. He was quite imposing, but all that Izzy could focus on at the moment was his amazingly comfortable looking lioness hood. Dawn would probably be among them soon and she had neither ate nor slept.
All of this left her a bit woosy, but she would attempt to make her way past them and to the door. She didn't know which she wanted first; sleep or food. A thought suddenly crept up and she shuddered. As long as I don't fall asleep while eating, I should be fine
@The Fated Fallen @Dragoknighte @The Harbinger of Ferocity
The old man grumbled. The young lad was still intent on his own quest and left without even hearing the details of what would await them in the mountains. "Now you listen here, boy.", the old man said as his hand grappled the cuff of Robert's shirt, trying to keep his attention. "This is very important, so pay attention. You seem like a smart fella, and I even bet you helped save this town not even a day ago. There is an artifact, a stone, in the heart of the mountains that just might end this war for good. Take anything you wish, but you bring that stone back to me, you hear? There are two dragons that guard the treasure, so you'll need a group of fine warriors to help you."
His grasp lightened, his lack of strength finally catching up with him as he sunk back into himself. "Now run along. Dawn will be upon you soon.", the old man cackled and hobbled along to the stair case that led up to the guest rooms. Within a blink of an eye, he seemed to disappear within the crowd, leaving Robert to think about his current path.
@KazeXDZ @boomlover
She seemed to have a knack for sticking her foot in her mouth lately. As much as she tried to stay quiet and observe, when she did decide to speak, it rarely worked out in her favor. Perhaps it had more to do with the fact that she was completely and utterly lost in her new role, whatever that was. She wasn't used to having to interact with others, or rely on others for help. She let out a heavy sigh and nodded to the woman.
Quickly and quietly, she moved off the stool and began to redress, leaving Kayleth to mend the dwarf's wounds. Her injuries left her muscles tender and sore. It was a chore just to bring her arms through the sleeves and near impossible to actually bind up the bodice. Finally, it was loose, but it was done.
During this time, Tirarrian managed to find herself a new friend. He was quite imposing, but all that Izzy could focus on at the moment was his amazingly comfortable looking lioness hood. Dawn would probably be among them soon and she had neither ate nor slept.
All of this left her a bit woosy, but she would attempt to make her way past them and to the door. She didn't know which she wanted first; sleep or food. A thought suddenly crept up and she shuddered. As long as I don't fall asleep while eating, I should be fine
@The Fated Fallen @Dragoknighte @The Harbinger of Ferocity
~~~*~~~
The old man grumbled. The young lad was still intent on his own quest and left without even hearing the details of what would await them in the mountains. "Now you listen here, boy.", the old man said as his hand grappled the cuff of Robert's shirt, trying to keep his attention. "This is very important, so pay attention. You seem like a smart fella, and I even bet you helped save this town not even a day ago. There is an artifact, a stone, in the heart of the mountains that just might end this war for good. Take anything you wish, but you bring that stone back to me, you hear? There are two dragons that guard the treasure, so you'll need a group of fine warriors to help you."
His grasp lightened, his lack of strength finally catching up with him as he sunk back into himself. "Now run along. Dawn will be upon you soon.", the old man cackled and hobbled along to the stair case that led up to the guest rooms. Within a blink of an eye, he seemed to disappear within the crowd, leaving Robert to think about his current path.
@KazeXDZ @boomlover
boomlover The godfather of explosions
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Robert couldn't wait to kill some goddamn dragons. he always wanted to be a dragon slayer,And this was his chance to become one. Although he really couldn't do it alone."hmm i mean maybe that hunter guy would like to join me. As for the others i really have no idea where they are. sword options please"" BURN THEM ALL IN FIRES OF DOOM AND DESTRUCTION BURN BURN BUUUUURN !!He quickly severed the connection" OK so he isn't available right now. hmmm well im just gonna look for the hunter guy ask him if he wants to leave and then go search for those bunch of idiots. because its always nice to have a bit of cannon fodder" .So he stood up paid the bartender with a silver coin and walked upstairs to get his stuff in order. He entered his room and Robert looked at his small alchemy kit that he hadn't used in a long time. He checked if it was still working which it was and then started experimenting for a little. He started combining liquids ales some plants he still had with him he tried to create a bomb but failed and stuff almost exploded in hiss face. He cursed under his mouth threw the stuff out of the window and started packing bags. He then went to the closed blacksmith hoping the the hunter would be there.
@KazeXDZ
@KazeXDZ
The Fated Fallen Doesn't know what to put here
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Just as Tirarrian leapt from the stool the savage man started towards her. Well, started is a bit of an understatement. His air of danger had become an air of immanent threat, and he stalked towards her with broad steps, easily stepping between the wounded legs like stepping between tree routes. He bristled so much Tirarrian could swear the fur on the lioness was on end
Whatever had ticked him off, he was heading straight for her. Perhaps he was hired by someone from her past, the Coin rippers maybe? Either way, Kayleth hated her enough, she didn't need to be distracted from Durin. She jumped on a back foot and started stepping backwards. "Hey! We can take this outside! No need to distract the good doctor!"
This would also hopefully buy her time. Although he was a large and well built man she hoped she could apply enough poison to her blade on the way out she could at least try and bring him down, as her blade had no poison on it right now.
Maybe he doesn't even understand what I'm saying? Some sort of force of nature who wants to rip me from this world?, she mused. She'd seen demons today, the sky's the limit!
@IcePezz@Dragoknighte@The Harbinger of Ferocity
Whatever had ticked him off, he was heading straight for her. Perhaps he was hired by someone from her past, the Coin rippers maybe? Either way, Kayleth hated her enough, she didn't need to be distracted from Durin. She jumped on a back foot and started stepping backwards. "Hey! We can take this outside! No need to distract the good doctor!"
This would also hopefully buy her time. Although he was a large and well built man she hoped she could apply enough poison to her blade on the way out she could at least try and bring him down, as her blade had no poison on it right now.
Maybe he doesn't even understand what I'm saying? Some sort of force of nature who wants to rip me from this world?, she mused. She'd seen demons today, the sky's the limit!
@IcePezz@Dragoknighte@The Harbinger of Ferocity
Siegfried stood in front of the blacksmith's, waiting for it to open. After a while, he saw Robert headed his way. "Hello, new companion. What did the old man say?" He stood slightly relaxed, awaiting a reply from the man. "How many people are we gonna need? And how much are we getting paid?" He took a step toward Robert with a calm smile, arm extended to shake his hand once he was close enough. As Robert filled him in on the details, he listened intently. "Then it seems I need only wait for the blacksmith to open as I do need a new blade. Unless you'd rather I assist in gathering party members. You need only ask."
Belwicket Guardian Gryphon
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
Regina was walking through town, looking up at everything. "It's all so big." she said to herself, stopping as she heard a voice. He was asking another men about the words of an old man. Listening from a distance, she heard something about dragons. She waited, still listening for a while, until one of them mentioned he was waiting for the blacksmith to open. Looking at the shop's sign, she noticed they were in front of the blacksmith. Walking over quickly, she leaned against the wall beside the door. "Any guess about when they open?" she asked, looking up at the men. She smirked as she drew one of her throwing daggers, letting it float a few inches above her hand. "I'm running low on daggers again. Then again, that always seems to happen with a lot of ranged weapons. Hell, one of my friends went through 500 arrows just hunting for us back at the school." She caught the dagger and slid it back in its pouch as she stood straight. "By the way, I heard y'all talking about dragons. I'd like to join you." To show off a little, she levitated herself three feet off the ground, lifting the top of her head three inches above Siegfried's. "Any qualms about a halfling psionicist?"
boomlover The godfather of explosions
Member
Seen
6 yrs ago
Robert didnt notice his mouth was wide open until it was way to late. he then quickly snapped out of it. And closed his mouth and said something amongst the lines of." Yes you can join it would be nice to have a floating hobbit that could shoot arrows." He then looked at his comrade and says." do you want her in because i really want her in."
@KazeXDZ @Belwicket
@KazeXDZ @Belwicket
Dragoknighte
Member
Seen
2 mos ago
Kayleth could hear the heavy footsteps in her shop and the growling refusal to Ashara even on this side of the shop. Whoever was in here was large, and probably not of the civil sort. As it stood, she was in the middle of a procedure with a drugged up (dwarves had a high tolerance to anesthesia, so she had to use almost half again the usual dose for a human his size), bled out Dwarf, and she couldn't afford to stop for something as paltry as a fight breaking out. If she needed to, she had her emergency knife strapped to her waist, safely tucked away from the prying eyes of anyone who might think he an easy target, but for now, she was to focus on the wound in front of her.
@IcePezz @The Fated Fallen @The Harbinger of Ferocity
@IcePezz @The Fated Fallen @The Harbinger of Ferocity
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
Relaxed was not the word one would use to describe the man's demeanor as the gnome began her not so hasty backpedal.
The attentiveness in his ferine eyes and the vigor in which he carried himself eased as he made a slow, calculated approach. Yet, there persisted a distinct lack of trust visible in his motions; his powerful hands, bound in partial, worn gloves flexed their digits lightly and his footfall had again reduced to minimal sound, but it was the way in which he leaned slightly forward that indicated this more than anything. It was not a lunge on edge, but the readiness to move quickly if need be, and if his speed were anything close to his assumed strength, he would undoubtedly cover a gap in a heartbeat - a pounce with brutal force behind it.
As Tirarrian continued her reverse order of movement, "The Red" paused - a gap between him and the rest of those in the area having formed. Undoubtedly thought out the moment she began to give ground, the hide draped hunter took advantage of the turn of events without pause. It was then he stood more upright once more, just as he had initially, reducing his defensiveness to a more passive state; the same aura of wild menace he carried with him ebbing into nothingness as he no longer moved with immediate readiness.
It made more sense in its own context now...
The gnome had withdrawn from the unintentional posturing and not a single participant found themselves in the reach of one another; the safest of solutions for all present, given the company.
"The Red" issued the first of his response in a tempered, measured tone; "You, small one."
The faint spark of primal power in his gaze faded for a moment as he blinked, drawing to mind thoughts. For so long words were meaningless to the beast-among-men - nothing but hollow utterances made by mere mortal things - and for almost as long had it been since he had needed them.
"I neither have time for your mere games nor those of these others."
"The Red" shifted, turning about to acknowledge the injured about in the rooming with a demeaning gesture; it was as though he looked upon them with the same indifference a predator among abundant, cowering prey would. Ending once more with his attention upon the gnome, he shook his head firmly side to side but once, his sizable arms returning to his sides with a continued sense of ease.
"There is an evil among this earth here - this settlement." His rumbling voice continued, a slight snarl of disgust emphasizing the vileness of what it was that summoned him here. "One that offends me to the point of bloodlust."
Palms opened ever so slightly, "The Red" gestured faintly with head, shoulders and this motion toward the gnome.
"With or without you I will find it, but if you value the lives of these others - yourself - then you will."
There existed a tempest of unbridled animal fury to his demeanor, one so clearly of supernatural origin, but at the same time so eloquently spoken to the point he appeared almost an authority on such a matter. It was mildly concerning no less that somehow, someway, something drew his ire from what seemed to be tremendous distance to this place; undoubtedly well traveled as his set inferred by its make and adornment, both in bronze inlaid scimitar and tremendous lioness sark. Whatever means accomplished this summons, felt innate... as though he had a knowing through some connection to these turn of events.
"Will you or will you not aid me?"
"The Red" inquired, a tawny brow raised from beneath the maw of the elder huntress.
@Dragoknighte@The Fated Fallen@IcePezz
The attentiveness in his ferine eyes and the vigor in which he carried himself eased as he made a slow, calculated approach. Yet, there persisted a distinct lack of trust visible in his motions; his powerful hands, bound in partial, worn gloves flexed their digits lightly and his footfall had again reduced to minimal sound, but it was the way in which he leaned slightly forward that indicated this more than anything. It was not a lunge on edge, but the readiness to move quickly if need be, and if his speed were anything close to his assumed strength, he would undoubtedly cover a gap in a heartbeat - a pounce with brutal force behind it.
As Tirarrian continued her reverse order of movement, "The Red" paused - a gap between him and the rest of those in the area having formed. Undoubtedly thought out the moment she began to give ground, the hide draped hunter took advantage of the turn of events without pause. It was then he stood more upright once more, just as he had initially, reducing his defensiveness to a more passive state; the same aura of wild menace he carried with him ebbing into nothingness as he no longer moved with immediate readiness.
It made more sense in its own context now...
The gnome had withdrawn from the unintentional posturing and not a single participant found themselves in the reach of one another; the safest of solutions for all present, given the company.
"The Red" issued the first of his response in a tempered, measured tone; "You, small one."
The faint spark of primal power in his gaze faded for a moment as he blinked, drawing to mind thoughts. For so long words were meaningless to the beast-among-men - nothing but hollow utterances made by mere mortal things - and for almost as long had it been since he had needed them.
"I neither have time for your mere games nor those of these others."
"The Red" shifted, turning about to acknowledge the injured about in the rooming with a demeaning gesture; it was as though he looked upon them with the same indifference a predator among abundant, cowering prey would. Ending once more with his attention upon the gnome, he shook his head firmly side to side but once, his sizable arms returning to his sides with a continued sense of ease.
"There is an evil among this earth here - this settlement." His rumbling voice continued, a slight snarl of disgust emphasizing the vileness of what it was that summoned him here. "One that offends me to the point of bloodlust."
Palms opened ever so slightly, "The Red" gestured faintly with head, shoulders and this motion toward the gnome.
"With or without you I will find it, but if you value the lives of these others - yourself - then you will."
There existed a tempest of unbridled animal fury to his demeanor, one so clearly of supernatural origin, but at the same time so eloquently spoken to the point he appeared almost an authority on such a matter. It was mildly concerning no less that somehow, someway, something drew his ire from what seemed to be tremendous distance to this place; undoubtedly well traveled as his set inferred by its make and adornment, both in bronze inlaid scimitar and tremendous lioness sark. Whatever means accomplished this summons, felt innate... as though he had a knowing through some connection to these turn of events.
"Will you or will you not aid me?"
"The Red" inquired, a tawny brow raised from beneath the maw of the elder huntress.
@Dragoknighte@The Fated Fallen@IcePezz
GM
Isabeau looked like a complete mess and desperately needed a bath, among other things. Still covered in dirt and dried blood, she trudged over towards Tirarrian. Her cowl draped over an arm and her shirt hung loose over her collar bone, exposing a small bit of bandages and scarred skin if one paid close attention as the cloth flowed over her back. She wasn't in a particularly good mood, though it was most likely due to the lack of sleep and or food in her stomach.
She glanced over "The Red" for a long moment, committing every inch of the imposing brute to memory as he and Tirarrian exchanged words. Friend or foe hadn't been decided just yet, but she needed an idea of what she was working with. So if for some reason she would have to defend herself against the giant beast, she just might survive. She couldn't make heads or tails of him, and so refrained from forming any opinion, looking at him with the same indifference he offered her. At the moment, all she could tell was that he was another entitled male, demanding answers from them, like they were children who did something horribly wrong. Pfft ... men...
"To be honest, we will need all the help we can get if we are to defeat the horrors that plague this land. Now if you'll excuse me...", her voice was low and strained with exhaustion, her body, barely able to push past them to the door.
She hoped the tavern wasn't too far from there, walking across town wasn't exactly an option for her. She did remember seeing a blacksmith just around the corner and hoped the Tavern wasn't that far off.
@The Fated Fallen @Dragoknighte @The Harbinger of Ferocity @Belwicket @KazeXDZ @boomlover
She glanced over "The Red" for a long moment, committing every inch of the imposing brute to memory as he and Tirarrian exchanged words. Friend or foe hadn't been decided just yet, but she needed an idea of what she was working with. So if for some reason she would have to defend herself against the giant beast, she just might survive. She couldn't make heads or tails of him, and so refrained from forming any opinion, looking at him with the same indifference he offered her. At the moment, all she could tell was that he was another entitled male, demanding answers from them, like they were children who did something horribly wrong. Pfft ... men...
"To be honest, we will need all the help we can get if we are to defeat the horrors that plague this land. Now if you'll excuse me...", her voice was low and strained with exhaustion, her body, barely able to push past them to the door.
She hoped the tavern wasn't too far from there, walking across town wasn't exactly an option for her. She did remember seeing a blacksmith just around the corner and hoped the Tavern wasn't that far off.
@The Fated Fallen @Dragoknighte @The Harbinger of Ferocity @Belwicket @KazeXDZ @boomlover
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