RedDusk

Hellbent

While others carried on with their conversation, Jagred watched subtly them over the brim of his mug, golden eyes half-lidded and glazed over, feigning boredom. Their little group of misfits appeared to be quite interesting, at least on the surface. Still, it was unlike any group he had ever worked with before. Probably because the women in this one was neither horribly deformed nor overly muscled, a striking contrast from the type of people he often ran into. The black-haired one, Espen , caught his eyes first. She was rather striking; fluid strides reminded him of a wolf prowling in its turf. His gaze lingered for a few moments, before turning toward the shorter one, Alice. Since the moment he noticed the spear, Jagred had decided to give this woman a wide berth. As a swordsman, spear fighters had been the bane of his existence ever since he started in this business, and he had scars to prove it. However, her harmless demeanor and playful tone had almost made him dismissed her at a threat. Almost.

Blake, the polite one, seemed to talk enough for all five of them, but while he was friendly enough, Jagred knew better than to lower his guard. He had seen men smiled all the same while killing and raiding. The other male of their group was a foreigner, who had just recently introduced himself at Mustafa. He was blunt and to-the-point, this one, but Jagred appreciated the efficient policy. After all, his mark was set; he didn’t want to wait around until the trail grew cold just because someone was bleeding a little. –“I’d have to agree with Mustafa on this one.”- With a light smile still lingered on his lip, Jagred finally voiced his opinion-“Can’t afford to botch such a nice job for anyone, I’m sure you understand. Besides, we are free to leave, so whenever you feel that you can’t keep up, leave. Won’t get you the gold, but you will be alive, and probably remain that way for a while.”

Soon after that, their food arrived at the behest of Blake, and Jagred found himself staring at a bowl of murky soup. It didn’t look like much, but at least it wasn’t cold. After a few tentative stirs to determine the ingredients of the stew, he dug in with fervor, suddenly aware of the roaring hunger in his stomach. The stew left much to be desired, still, Jagred made short work of his portion in mere minutes, before getting up to leave for their room. –“Well, good night folks. I will get some sleep now. Big hunt tomorrow.”-With that said, he turned and left, bringing the mug of wine with him.

Apparently, they had to share the room. Not really a bad deal, since he had had worse. At least there were beds. Jagred made a beeline for one of them, forsaking the baths. He could always rise early to take one later. For now, sleep came first. He lay down on the mattress, backpack and weapons at his side, the shortsword already smuggled under his pillow.

Hellbent

Collaboration? Oh that sounds pretty neat, but unfortunately I can't do much. My schedule isn't very flexible, so I don't often catch you guys online, and I can't stay online for very long either. So that might be a problem/

Hellbent

Jagred stepped into the welcoming warmth of the inn, his tattered cloak draped over one arm, while he kept his backpack in the other. The stench hit him as he crossed the threshold, but after years drifting from places to places without a home, he had been less picky about where he slept. Along with the others in the group, he stopped at the bar first thing, glancing at the various bottles behind the barman. Despite just having returned to Persk after a two-month campaign up North, Jagred found himself in especially high spirit today. After all, he had just found one tempting assignment. It was a proper manhunt. He couldn’t remember the last time he took on any bounty. Most of the ones he came across either didn’t pay enough to pique his interest or had had too many takers already, so it had been just boring campaign or bodyguard duties for him all year long. Hopefully, this job would be worth the wait.

There was still one thing that kept bothering though. It was the team. Jagred worked alone, it had been his way for a long time. Even when temporary serving with other mercenaries in some lord’s army or bodyguarding one, he had always enjoyed a sense of freedom. He would finish his assignment, yes, but under his own terms and in his own time. While there were certain drawbacks, which he fully-aware of, he still preferred solitude. However, it was too late to walk away from this now. Not that he would, since jobs like these didn’t just drop into your lap now and then. He could work with other people when asked for, as long as they stayed out of his way. And from their looks, they appeared to be quite competent themselves.

Once the friendly gentleman and the dark-skinned foreigner had ordered their drinks, Jagred raised his hand slightly to get the barman’s attention. “Your least watered-down wine here, please.”- He spoke, loud enough for the barman to hear over the noises, and soon enough, a mug of dark red liquid was shoved into his waiting hands. He took a slip, then grimaced. Still too watered down for his taste, but he supposed he would take what he could get. Just at that moment, the older mercenary decided to go get them a table after a brief chat with the barman, and when beckoned, he walked over, mug in hand. The middle aged mercenary was quite keen on impressing the two women in their group, pulling out chairs for them and all. Not an usual thing for a sellsword to do, but he was sure it was just because of the horrible company he often kept.

As he sat down at the table along with the others, the older man once again proposed that they introduce themselves. Jagred took a long swig from his mug first, before speaking up, a half smile tugging at his lips –“Name’s Jagred. Pleasure to meet you all.”

Hellbent

It will be a while before I post though, sorry. Timezones are stupid.

Hellbent

Feel free to decide whatever you want, it's your roleplay after all. I will probably feel bad if I get rejected, but whatever, I will get over it.

Hellbent

- Name -
Jagred Degray

- Appearance -

Standing tall at 6’0’’, Jagred could’ve often pulled off an intimidating loom if not for his lanky stature and the tendency to slouch. Rarely seen without his thread-bare cloak, Jagred usually wears leather armor and boots while travelling, his weapons strapped to his back along with a small backpack for provisions. An archer by trade, he also had a thick leather gauntlet on his left arm, adorned with metal plates for deflecting blades and breaking jaws of enemies that wandered too close. On his belt usually hung a short sword on one side and a hatchet on the other, even though no one has actually seen he fought with it.

- Personality -
At first glance, Jagred was surprising a normal guy, almost bordering on forgettable. He talks enough, drinks enough, smiles at all the appropriate times, and rarely, if ever, loses his temper. However, it is all part of his usual façade, the one he used to hide his distaste toward the people he has to deal with every day. Jagred one and true passion lies with hunting, and he cares for little else, sometimes not even his life. He makes a very good hunter though, determined and patient, with a healthy amount of bloodlust and a bit paranoia thrown in for good measure. As much as he relishes in the hunt, Jagred rarely went out of his way to either harm or kill. Those who were not his targets were often deemed unworthy of his attention, for better or worse.

- Excerpt -
It was raining again, fifth time this month.

The ground was muddy and littered with puddles, destroying any hope for footprints, but still, Jagred was certain that he was on the right track. There was only one place left Castair could’ve gone, the little bastard wouldn’t leave without his share of the loot. Though he didn’t think Cas would just take his share. No, he was too greedy for his own sake, and that gave Jagred just enough time to catch the scent. Bastard should’ve walked instead, since horses always left an absurd amount of traces. Guess he wasn’t as bright as they said, after all. Jagred half-smiled, his strides quickened.

It was long before he could spot Castair’s distinct shape among the trees, crouching by a mound of dirt. Wordlessly, Jagred nocked an arrow, aimed, then fired. It hit its target with a fleshly thud, and soon enough, Castair’s six foot frame dropped to the ground. Jagred didn’t close in immediately though, he stood and watched for a few more minutes, as the shape convulsed and groaned. Only once the movements had stopped did Jagred leave the cover of the bushes. He found his ex-best friend lying in a heap on the ground, an arrow protruding from his back. All of sudden, the stench of blood was sickening, and Jagred felt as if he could empty his stomach on the ground any moment now. But he didn’t. There was no time for that. He came here to fulfill a task, and that was exactly what he was going to do. With further ado, he removed the hatchet from Castair’s belt, its familiar weight was unsually heavy in his hand. Funny how he would now use Castair's favorite weapon to kill him.

As he lifted the hatchet, he saw pale blue eyes watching, and bloodied lips stretched into a rueful smile. –“I’m sorry. Please…Hold still.”-He mumbled breathlessly, just as the hatchet fell, and he chanted again and again every time it did. Blood trickled through his fingers, its warmth already lost in the pouring rain.

With the head safely wrapped in his cloak, Jagred turned around and walked back the way he came. The duke would be pleased. For now. Hopefully, that meant he could finally get an audience. The thought brought a smile to his lips, all white teeth and no humor.

Int. Check - Hellbent - (Low-Fantasy, High-Casual, Adventure RP)

I'm interested, though I'm afraid my RP skills might be a bit rusty. It has been a few month since my last one, but this sounds too good to pass up.

Entropy and Other Dilemmas

Oh my. Drastic. Still, I can't post much yet, seeing that nobody else has.

Entropy and Other Dilemmas

The metal grate clicked softly as Krios removed it. A thick liquid, presumably blood mixed with digestive fluid, began dripping down uncontrollably. Instinctively, he stepped out of the way, his lips curled up in disgust. Just the mere thought of which diseases exotic space creatures carried inside them was enough to make him shuddered, which was a miracle all by itself. He had been travelling for quite some time now, had been fortunate enough to witness all sort of madness and live long enough to regret the decisions that led to them. And yet, there was still things that can make him flinched. Like the Brain Rot, a disease that, predictably, made your brain decomposes inside the skull. Not a pretty sight at all. So to avoid a similar fate, Krios dropped the grate and left the vent as it was. He would continue with it after the mess had been cleaned up. Eckhart hired him to be an engineer, not a bloody janitor.

Honestly though, after his first 5 hours on the ship, Krios found that this place wasn’t horrible as he had initially thought. Sure, his boss was obsessive, but at least he was not a tentacle beast that wanted to have sexual intercourse with everything and everyone. It was far from the worst job he ever had though. Their ship might be ancient, its hardware a maze of patchwork fixes and outdated parts, but he supposed he could manage. After all, despite all their technology and intelligence, the Murridanes couldn’t create new spare parts out of thin air, so he had to do a lot of salvaging back then. Thanks to that, he was sufficiently familiar with the ship’s network, enough to get a few repairs done before the meeting was due.

Apparently, the former captain had met his final demise during the attack, so a new one was chosen. Eckhart. The man was nothing but efficient. He even put together a celebration of sort to announce the new captain. Attendance was mandatory, it seemed. Letting out a sigh, Krios opened the door to his modest cabin, then stepped inside, the door slid shut behind him. This felt a huge waste of time to him. After all, he still had tons of work left, vents to unclog, engines to repair, interfaces to replace. No time to go to some silly meeting for talks about things he already knew.

Krios sat down at his desk, leaned into the leather seat. There was still a bit of time for him to relax, maybe take a nap or something. But then, it wasn’t really possible, not with his condition. So Krios ended up staring at the metal celling like an idiot, legs propped up on the messy desk. His room wasn’t very big, even when he had got rid of the bed, along with its occupant still bleeding on the blankets, but at least there was enough room for a comfy leather chair with built-in heating system and cup holders, so Krios couldn’t really complain.

Moments later, the antique clock on his desk went off as his cue to leave. He found the mess hall with little difficulty, as he had studied the ship plan few hours earlier, remembering what he could. The light bothered him, but the he didn’t take out his shades. Instead, he focused on Jane Pepper, standing in the middle of their little circle, his arms crossed. Her speech was, well, hardly informative, since she had already struck him as the type of woman with a low tolerance for bullshit the moment she stepped into the room. Not his favorite type of people, but she seemed like someone who knew what they were doing. He could respect that.

Entropy and Other Dilemmas

Added a more detailed relationship description about everyone. And I imagine Krios wouldn't like Jane that much either, the guy might take her distrust in his abilities as an insult.