Sync

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

@Lyla I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Please stay safe and feel better.

@HowlsOfWinter All right, I'll have a post up relatively soon - ish then!

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

I haven't posted not because I set myself up to be approached, but because I'm waiting until Howls gets her post up, no rush or anything Howls, I'm just clearing up any confusion.

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

@HowlsOfWinter ah don't worry about it. Take your time and stuff, I also understand the situation you're going through with the DS thing so I can wait lol

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Towering Giant, Repose Until Nightfall...

@HowlsOfWinter

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A prevalent silence loomed at the moment that question rose. Of course... she would figure it out. They stood out like a sore thumb and if she was there the whole time, she probably even heard. What to say? The old giant release a heavy sigh and rose his jug, ushering the barkeep to fill it up once more. To speak ill of the man was not something he'd accustomed, but more over, he didn't feel the need to filter his words in a moments repose. This young woman was kind enough to give him an ear, and so he would satiate her curiosity, even if was by means of extending a conversation that Hafrbjǫrn started. "Garrett seems indiscernible from the snake-men we fought. But even with my weary eyes I can tell, that even those snakes had honor." Vileness wreaked out of his tone with each syllable that he spoke regarding that man. Perhaps the giant shouldn't have been so foolish as to believe that whatever sum of money was offered was going to be a lie. The luxuries of the guild began to ring smoother tunes onto his thoughts. Yet he couldn't, he and his family were not one anymore, and to reunite in comfort when they still troubled in poverty. It reeked of disgrace, what to do in earnest? Hafrbjǫrn Could not come up with a straight answer as immediately as the guild master wanted, he couldn't do for the mere thought of living under someone that sees him only as another chess piece. After his jug had been brimmed with mead, he stood from his chair and sat opposite to Octavia, this time he could see all her features directly, from the eyes patch, to the hue of the eye lit under the subtle fire. She reminded him of a flower that grew prevalently on the waters of his home, Stor nøkkerose, she seemed delicate almost, yet rigid on some sections.

"You said this was your first journey." the giant spoke with a bit more suitableness than before. Unlike the former company, he could now enjoy good mead, with good conversation. Although he was not much to speak, he could enjoy the stories of another. "I could not see too clearly what had happened in the mix of that battle." The giant spoke as he took a swing of his mead "But I'm sure with polish, you'll gleam like finely tempered steel." He remained silent, but before she could speak he halted "But--" Something in him wanted to pry, yet this was uncalled for. No, he would leave it be, the young lass would be offended and he was just and old giant, alleviating what troubles had garnered in the midst with good company. "What do you think of the guild master? Do you enjoy your time in the Irregulars? As a smith and sell-sword, I am only accompanied by strangers and the chisel." A genuine nature formed at the pit of that question, his son... He was one that wanted to join a guild and had fallen because of it. Since then, the giant grew angry, lonesome and more over curious. What was that the boy found so intriguing in everything? In all this meddling with guilds, perhaps he can finally get some perspective from someone the giant felt could give him a genuine answer.

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Dinner Time: Meeting the New Irregulars

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New faces to add to the bunch. Truly, the guild master knew how to pick them. The giant had half a thought to believe that there might have been some ulterior motive when choosing the new mates. Of course, to him it could be all the different. They were all women, and all seemed to be around or under the age of 25. The giant did not feel too privy to conversation at the moment so he sat quietly at the corner, enjoying solitude and silence.

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Nightime

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The giant had awaited at the gate, witnessing the sneaking's of a rat in knight's clothing. Arms crossed, and sights at the target's behest, a small bullet of sweat dropped from his forehead to his neck the Serim was contemplating the foolishness of his decisions. "Did you not think I would be so privy to your escape, Serim?" Garrett remained silent, clenching teeth and blade in hand, prepared to unleashed his fury on the giant, one that this man would welcome with open arms, if it weren't for the circumstances that had presented itself prior to all. "What say you?" The Serim opened his mouth and began to clamor a thought, he murmured under his breath a plan, a strategy. He could sense death loom at the pit of his stomach and he could do nothing. At the gates, in this area at this time of night. Anything could happen, anything could end his life and at the hand of these massive titan of a man, who Garrett has witnessed first hand what his potency was... What could he do? Run? If that was an option he would've done it already, he couldn't all these possession would get left behind and his riches would be for naught. What bullshit, what utter madness!! "Curse you, giant! By the hands of the gods themselves, I will cut you down where you stand!!" Pulling his sword, the Serim charged with massive disdain and disregard for life. Hafrbjǫrn, extended his hands and clamped onto his face, lifting him off the earth and slamming the Serim onto the nearby wall. Garretts back slid the wall, pain coursing through him, trembling at his feet, a cough echoed through the seams of where they stood. And Hafrbjǫrn's cold, apathetic stare locked with the Serim's.

"I warned you... You aught yet to see what I am when I'm angry." The Serim attempted to stand, just to be met with Hafrbjǫrn's boot, pressing him against the wall. "You stay and hear first what I have to say." Garrett's breath was becoming more and more paused, coughing increased, his diaphragm couldn't expand properly, so breathing was becoming more and more like a fleeting luxury to the Serim. "The guild master has paid your debt, and offered me a stay in their home. I intend to take it. So you and mines business is concluded." He released Garrett, who was now furiously gasping and coughing up a storm. Enjoying the sweet delicacy that was oxigen. "I will not bring any more harm upon you. For now, have it etched into your skull however, Serim. That if I ever see you again, I will have your head and mount it up on my garden to scare the crows." He stepped away, as if allowing him the escape, Garrett took not moments hesitation and dashed off at full speed. Hafrbjǫrn witnessed the act of cowardice displayed by a man who couldn't even tell when he was cornered. A sigh escaped him, and so he returned to the Tavern, where all where at their beds. And soon would the giant join them.

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The Morning After

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He appeared again,like rustling roach that he could not shake off. The giant remained at his silence, not telling the events that transpired in the night. However, he would not accept just yet. Not until the Irregulars decided to venture once more to their home, then he will tell the leader his decision.

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

@HowlsOfWinter Jesus, that's some dedication and grit. Also, some messed up luck! I hope everything gets fixed soon so that you can return to normalcy lol

I also added to my last post concerning the proposal. It's not much, but it should help on the idea of what's happening. I'm gonna make a separate post concerning the events of what's transpired in the latest post some time later.

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Oh i thought we might have more time. I'll add a few more lines to the last post later today so that it could all make sense in terms of continuity. But for the most part a lot is gonna remain the same :laugh

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Towering Giant, Repose Until Nightfall...
@HowlsOfWinter

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The mead was one of quality, one such that the giant ill had the luxury to partake upon regularly. His mind had wavered from what was once a unpleasant exchange to the sonorous rustle of voices that engulfed the tavern's lodgings. Trailing on thoughts of the earnings he would get, and what to do with them. He missed the forge, he privy'd a good anvil and chisel. But such needed to wait, the tremble of his fingers had vanished almost entirely. He could still sense the ache of the tendons with each long interval he didn't exercise them by clutching momentarily into a fist. His drink was finished, and he didn't feel too inclined to order a second as they weren't particularly inexpensive. Still, he sat there at his lonesome ruminating on the journey and what had transpired. His was at his forge, and these three soldiers had procured his presence for the sake of maintenance, he agreed as would any smithy would. Just a couple of swords, some needed refinement others needed a simple whetstone. But Hafrbjǫrn body and blood was made for the forge, so this was to like playing is to a child. In the midst of it all, the man known as Garrett had spoken to him of a proposal, something of great value. Hafrbjǫrn was skeptical at first, but what was paid upfront was enough to warrant his intrigue. Of course, the slyness which protruded from the Serim also reached him, coil at his throat like serpent clutching its pray. But Hafrbjǫrn decided to honor the binding, and travel once more to the unknown. Many have died at his behest, many had died at his carelessness. Much sacrifice was needed, and much energy too. That these Irregulars had any sense of weariness not protrude from their essence was indeed something that peak the giant's curiosity.

His fingers tightened around the bridge of his nose, pressing as if to ward whatever headache would arise at the mere thought of this summary. Garrett was not one that seemed to be full of tricks, he seems like a fool who's a bit too good at charisma, however. His silver tongue had lead them astray for instances which could've been avoided. But... He witnesses the small wealth he has, if it could even be called that. A lot was sent to his family, to a sister and to the parents. Their poverty was too, the giants concern. The first half should be enough to keep them stable for a good amount, with the rest he could give his ex-wife enough to rebuild the home. A sigh escaped him, maybe he should actually ask for another. A voice broke off his trance, it was none other than the guild head. His abrasive nature had already rubbed the giant the wrong way. His eyes trained on his and without much to retort, the giant heard the proposal that headed his way. The guild master seemed to wait for an answer, but one never came. The giant was torn between lifting the table and smacking him upside the head with it, or pushing him down the stairs. But regardless, he took restraint. It took real gumption to do what this man was doing right now, and more over to sully his honor in such a way. He did not see pass what was the warrior, he saw only the pawn which he could utilize on his game of chess. He had no front-liners? If persuasion was a needed factor for leadership, this man ha sunk its ship long before he tried to set sail upon it. Hafrbjǫrn's point seemed to have cemented itself within the guild master, and taking his silence as a means to an answer he stood an left the giant once again at his lonesome.

Or so he thought... a noise caught his attention, head turning it was one of the Irregulars. The victor of the spoils, and one that the witch doctor seemed particularly fond of. She was small, but to Hafrbjǫrn many were small. Her jet-black hair swayed across her features, delicately adorning a visage of tranquility. Perhaps she has found a moments rest, finally. Yet throughout the journey, she wore another facet which the giant found particularly strange. During battle, he couldn't discern her methods either, it as if she had strength of quickness, but not such of resilience. She did not seems meek in the slightest, yet... Somehow... He turned once again, drinking what's left of his mead and pondering some more.

What was her name again? His emerald eyes trained themselves on the ice which still were present on his jug. Before he opened his mouth and spoke to the girl "Octavia, correct?" He didn't turn, yet continue to speak. "You wear calmness in your mien, finally. I thought I sensed a tinge of worry during our travels. Is there something that is amiss, perhaps?"

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

I also vote for character stuff.

Dont be too intimidated to go and talk to Half though! He doesnt bite oftenly

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Forgot to say also that if anyone just wants to approach Half for any reason you can, I don't plan to continue anything story driven about him later.

Bloodrose Irregulars - After The Fall (Dark Fantasy Adventure) -=Remake=-

Towering Giant, Survival of the Fittest

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Garret had remained silent and fallen on deepened thought. After hearing of Hafrbjǫrn ultimatum, his eyes trailed towards the group witnessing the savaging of the spoils. His ribs still felt ill, so the former of the two would not suffice for them to end up victors against the Irregulars, and much less would Hafrbjǫrn be too willing to uphold that end of the bargain for what was originally planned as pay for him. And so... the Serim knight nodded in agreement and extended his hand towards the giant. "Fret not, Half. This Journey would soon come to an end." However, he brought his hand back, closing his fingers in a gesture with his index as if it representing the exception to what was previously told "However, I suggest you don't stray away our saviors, least you lack the honor. Remember my dear partner, regardless of circumstance or fate, the irregular were paramount to our survival today." Hafrbjǫrn rose his brow as if to suggest the utter nonsense the man had just spoken about. At the instance they decided to open what was the Pandora's box of this dungeon their lives were forfeit. That they had survived was by mere extension of many factors, which were all too closely knit to luck. The bombs he had brought, the bow and arrow he picked up, the soulstone he retrieved. There all due preparation for these all to predictable outcome, and yet... Hafrbjǫrn could not fully disagree to what his employer had said. His eyes kept stead on the Serim's stare "Oh I see it too clearly my companion in arms! You are far too vigilant for your own good. You do not fully believe on the merits of these people's good tidings and strength. You'd sooner place our victory in the hands of fate. Well quake not in your boots, Half for it is true. We owe these kin a great debt and much like the one I have with you, I intend to keep it."

The tune of the Serim's voice pledged something greater than what he spoke. Ill intent had roamed on its entirety, but Hafrbjǫrn did not care for the intention of the people whom he was hired by... Sadly, he only is here to do what was but the extend of his only capability. Battle, his smiting garnered much, but not enough to warrant a living in peace. For much of the guilds owned their own swords and selling knives to pandering merchants and peddlers was not a means of earning a good sovern. A sigh escaped this old giant, weary of such nonsense he walked passed an outstretched Garrett, and continued his path towards the entrance. There was not much for him to do in this place, and so he would wait somewhere with less blood and corpses as scenery. Garrett lowered his arms and released a hefty breath, pulling the tags of his fallen Serim comrades, he witnessed their names once more and began to wrought in their thought. A clutch of their steel, he wore them around his neck, along side his own. Forming, even if only by metaphor, the party of the Serim Knight once again... "For naught will have been your work... Dear friends."

And so proceeded the night to finding something of value or relative interest.

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Minutes became hours, hours became days, days became weeks before they had finally arrived at their destination. Not much had happened with Hafrbjǫrn throughout the course of this journey. He spoke naught throughout and fell terribly to his lonesome, night consisted of his standing guard, if not reading and updating finding to a small log book he kept, other times was reminiscing to himself tales of a bleak origin that haunt him to this time. Surfacing in times of rest, these memories would not halt their blare, and much less would Hafrbjǫrn demand them to stop. Within them there was a face, one of which he cared for deeply for and though dark, these memories bring warm to what is a terribly frigid life. Yet it mattered no longer, as they have finally made leeway to their destination, and stepped foot on the The Silver Moon Citadel. Such sights were of no surprise to him, he had seem to fancy these types of locations due to his work. Reaching their resting place, Garrett and Hafrbjǫrn were handed a drink by the Irregulars, although the giant was terribly distant, it seemed the guildmates were not.

A silence befell the two, as the time for farewells and ends would soon come to an end. Garrett and Hafrbjǫrn would lock eyes and exchange gestures before drinking their beverage and indulging in silence. Or, that was the idea until the Serim decided to speak. "Have you grown accustomed to the Irregulars?" What nonsense has this mad knight began to spout again? He spoke as if we were to continue this journey at the hands of these people. "You haven't said a word since we left the dungeon, Half. Does it not make you weary to clutch to your own devices all the time?" There was something peculiar about this... but Hafrbjǫrn did not discern what at the immediate moment. He just remained silent, indulging in his drink. "There. Right there, Half. Two week of companionship and you continue to baffle me at wits end on how severely private you are. Can you not at least attempt indulgence in alcohol and conversation?"

"Not with the likes of a man who's face reeks of treachery." The Serim rose his brow in confusion, then replies with a soft, almost limber laughter. "So those were the thoughts plaguing you, Half. You should certainly know how to-" Hafrbjǫrn halted him by placing his hand before him. He didn't care for lectures. "Be quiet. I do not intend to enjoy the rest of these mead with ill company, much less ill conversation." The Serim smiled, almost wryly... "This might as well be our last ever meeting, Half. Could we not end such with pleasantries instead of rivalries?"

"Are you suggesting that I am wrong in my assumptions?"

"Indeed, I am. What I have looted will be profit to pay what we have agreed upon."

"I see. Then why do you linger here and not went towards with the others to sell your goods?"

"Because, Serim have their own means of trade. I could get twice as much in a town over--"

"This is not what we agreed on, Serim. I told you we would get to the next shelter and bid farewells there, no such more than that."

Garrett remained silent, clutching his drink firmly upon his fingers. Dousing his thirst with its substance Garrett wiped off any residue left on lip with the sleeve in his arm and continued to stare down the giant that seemed to be loosing his patience. "...Alright. I'll have your sovern by the return of the Irregulars."

"See to it that you do, Serim. You have aught yet to witness me when I am angry." Garrett nodded and smiled, standing from this table, now the giant sat at his lonesome, again. Much like before. Just that this time he had mead at his hand.