Trash Panda

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

Alistair slipped away from the bustling crowds in the marketplace and made his way to the alley. He took a moment to glance over his shoulder just in case he had been followed by a local guard before he ducked out of sight, moving deep enough into the shadows that anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to see him. Once he was satisfied that he was fully concealed, he quickly began changing out of his wet clothes and switching into the plain, dry shirt and trousers he had purchased from the vendor. Of course, his boots were still rather soaked, but there was nothing he could do about that. It was late and the market would be closing soon. He could already hear the shouts of the knights as they guided the townspeople back to their homes. He smirked to himself. Ever since he had started causing trouble around the kingdom, the knights had begun enforcing a stricter curfew in a fruitless effort to catch their tormentor. Sadly for them, however, he wasn’t foolish enough to go wandering about in the dead of night and get himself caught. He might have been a traveler, but he still had a secure place to sleep after the sun went down.

Turning his attention back to the heap of sopping clothes in his arms, Alistair realized that he couldn’t simply walk back out of the alley with his gear in plain sight. The knights would spot him in an instant. If he wanted to keep his head down, he would have to find a place to hide it until he could retrieve it later on. Still… he didn’t want to abandon all of his equipment. Perhaps he could at least find somewhere to keep some of the smaller tools.

Alistair rummaged through the pockets of his coat and pulled out one of his daggers, the pouch of metal strips that he used to pick locks, and a short length of rope. He knit his brow as he examined the objects in his hands. They weren’t much, but they were better than nothing. He slipped the dagger into his boot and dropped the pouch into his pants’ pocket, finally tying the rope around his waist in a makeshift belt. With these, he wasn’t laden with equipment, but he also wasn’t completely lacking in case he needed supplies. The dagger and rope would come in handy pretty much anywhere, and one never knew when one might need to pick a locked door. At least now he had a few necessities to carry along if he found himself in trouble before he could get back to the rest.

Alistair walked slowly along one of the alley walls, searching for a place to hide the rest of his things. A bit farther down, he found a pile of straw that looked quite old and smelled faintly of mildew. He doubted anyone would want to touch it, which made it the perfect place to stow his clothes and equipment. He knelt down and moved some of the straw aside, wrinkling his nose at the odor while he set down his things and covered them back up. As he rose to his feet again, the mercenary made a mental note to give it all a thorough washing when he recovered it later. He wore the appearance of a feral man, but he didn’t want to smell like one.

Just as he was about to turn around to head back into the marketplace, Alistair heard something that made him freeze: Someone was running towards him. He felt his heart skip a beat. The alley must not have been as dark as he thought; the knights must have seen him. Consumed by a sudden instinct to get away, he spun around to fight off whoever was coming to attack him, but the other man was faster. He stumbled as he felt a body slam into his, nearly causing him to fall to the ground. Having never fought a knight who tackled his enemies before, Alistair looked up in surprise and found that he hadn’t been struck by a guard at all. Instead, he saw a young girl standing before him. He stared at her blankly for a moment, still recovering from his initial shock, before he collected himself.

“My apologies,” he murmured, examining the girl with newfound curiosity. A dozen questions flitted through his mind at her appearance. What was a pretty young thing like her doing out in the streets so late at night? Why was she running? She didn’t look like a criminal or a prostitute, so he couldn’t imagine why the knights would be after her. Perhaps she was in danger? He took a tentative step towards the girl. Under normal circumstances, he would have brushed her off since she was of no concern to him, but she had made such a dramatic entrance that he couldn’t help but feel a bit intrigued—well, that and she wasn’t too hard on the eyes, either. A nice figure, bright eyes, and pretty blonde hair that reflected the moonlight… He supposed he could take a few moments to inquire about her wellbeing.

“Are you alright, miss?” Alistair asked.

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

Yup :3
Since both of them would look like regular commoners (Elizabeth is in her disguise, and Alistair switched out of his mercenary gear since it all got wet dX), it could be pretty funny if they don't recognize each other right away!

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

Alistair practically flew into the woods when he heard the deep grating sound that accompanied the rise of the castle gate. He was no fool; he knew the knights would use their cavalry to chase him down. He just hoped they didn’t have dogs, too. I they set their wretched hounds on him, his head start would be worthless and they would catch up to him in no time at all. Out of all of the mercenary’s previous attacks, this one was definitely the closest he had come to getting captured. There were too many knights on too many horses with too many weapons and too much skill. All he had was a few short daggers and a dashing smile. The odds just weren’t fair.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Alistair could now hear the baying of dogs in the distance. He spat a curse and made a sharp turn to his left, pointlessly hoping that they might lose his trail. His eyes swept over the trees as he searched for a way to throw off his pursuers. Just as he was beginning to get worried, he spotted something up ahead: a river. He hastened his pace, managing to nick his cheek on a stray tree branch as he hurried towards it. When he reached the bank, he flung himself into the rushing water, floundering for a moment before he was able to right himself and swim with the current.

Now that he was safe in the river—the water washed away his scent so the dogs couldn’t track him—Alistair was finally able to relax again. He laughed with a mixture of triumph and relief as he let the water carry him away from the knights. It had been a close call, but he made it. He was still alive and he could finish the rest of his mission. He could practically feel the sack of one-hundred and fifty Fals in his pocket. This was the most expensive job he had ever taken on, and all he had to do was assassinate a young girl. Easy money.

After spending a bit of time in the water, Alistair climbed back onto the bank. He couldn’t stay in this area for much longer. The knights would surely follow the river’s path to find him downstream. He didn’t want to stick around and let that happen, so he turned and headed for the nearest town, wringing water out of his clothes as he walked.

When he reached the edge of the town, Alistair began searching for a marketplace where he could buy some dry clothes. He had left all of his belongings—of which there were few—in a town further south of this part of the kingdom, so he had nothing except for what he carried on his body. His feral appearance already drew enough attention as it was. If he wanted to keep his head down and avoid the knights, he would have to get out of his obviously sopping clothes.

Alistair walked into the market, ignoring the curious stares he received from onlookers, and approached a vendor who was selling the items he needed. The man gave him the same bemused expression and crossed his arms, “I haven’t seen a single dark cloud in the sky for days. How did you come to get like that, young fellow?”

“Fishing accident,” Alistair lied with a casual shrug. “My boat was overturned and I fell into the water.”

“And now you’re lookin’ to buy some dry clothes, I assume?” the vendor chortled. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. My linens are some of the finest in the kingdom. My wife makes them, herself.”

“Is that so?” Alistair mused, absently fingering the cloth of one of the shirts on the cart. “Alright then. I’ll buy this from you.” He collected a plain shirt and a pair of trousers. “How does three Gros sound for all of it?”

“I won’t be takin’ anything less than four, sir,” the vendor shook his head.

“Fine,” Alistair rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket and held out a few small coins, “Three Gros and I’ll throw in five Ecus.”

The vendor thought for a moment before cracking a toothy grin and snatching the money from the mercenary’s hand, “A pleasure doing business with you.”

Alistair nodded and turned away from the man, muttering bitterly to himself about overpriced markets. He looked around for a place to change clothes until he found a secluded alley that was away from the bustling crowds of people. As there were no places that were completely private in this area, he supposed it would have to do. He just had to be careful to watch for knights so he wouldn’t get caught in the middle of throwing a shirt over his head.

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

Yours was great too ^-^
I'll work on my reply in a bit. I just finished writing a song, so I'm gonna touch that up first and post it to my music page. It shouldn't take too long :3

EDIT: @Prologue So I figured I'd leave my post open-ended so we can decide how/when we want Elizabeth and Alistair to meet :P I think it could be fun if Alistair doesn't recognize Elizabeth in her disguise and thinks she's just a regular girl when he sees her.
Do you have any other ideas?

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

First post is done :D
I hope it gives you a decent amount of background info to work with ^-^

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

“Cut to the chase.”

“Alright, alright. One hundred Fals.”

“One hundred and fifty.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like a jester to you?”

“…Fine. But you’ll have to give us more time to get the rest.”

“Okay. You have until the next full moon.”

“Heh, I see you’re true to your name, Black Wolf.”

“Just be sure to bring me the money or I’ll be coming after you next.”

“Ahem… Yes, fine.”

“Good.”

“Well… it was a pleasure doing business with you. I just hope you’ll live up to your name.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”

--

Alistair crept along the top of the castle gables, moving slowly and hugging his body close to the stone in order to avoid being spotted by the guards on the ground below. Every so often, he paused to sweep his dark brown eyes across the nearby bell towers in search of sentries. It was a tedious process, but the king had made the mercenary’s job much more difficult as of late. The number of guards in and around the castle nearly doubled when he caught a small group of them by surprise a few days ago. He managed to take out four of them, but two escaped and reported the attack to King Berinon, and now the castle was practically crawling with knights. Thus, he was forced to move with added caution.

After taking a moment to make sure that there were no sentries nearby, Alistair rose to his feet and reached up to lift himself over the banister that rose above the gables. He landed softly on the high ledge and crouched down, peering back at the courtyard where the knights were marching on their patrols. So far, they hadn’t seemed to notice him. He let out a quiet laugh. The guards were like deer; when watching for danger, they never bothered to look up. As long as he didn’t run into any sentries in the palace, the mercenary would have an easy time slipping in and out.

Keeping low to the floor, Alistair followed the banister along the ledge until he came to a door leading inside the castle. He grasped the handle and gave it a tentative tug, only to find that it was locked. He clicked his tongue in mild annoyance and reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a small black pouch filled with an odd assortment of metal bits. With them he could easily force the lock open, but he didn’t have much time. One of the bell tower sentries could step around the corner at any moment and spot him on the open ledge. He stuck a couple of thin metal strips into the key hole and began fiddling with the tumblers, pressing one ear to the door to listen for the soft clicks as they unlocked. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before he was able to turn the handle and slip inside.

Alistair wasted no time scurrying behind a curtain to conceal himself in case there were any guards near the floor he had ended up on. He stayed still for a moment as he listened for the metallic clank of marching knights. After hearing nothing but his own shallow breaths, he determined that the guards must be patrolling another hallway, and he stepped out from behind the curtain to complete his task.

Alistair walked lightly across the corridor to enter an empty room on the other side. He closed the door behind him and looked around, smiling triumphantly to himself. The floors and walls were made entirely of wood, as were the various pieces of furniture inside. It was a perfect place to start the fire, his last step before he targeted the king’s daughter. Until now, he had been committing various crimes across the kingdom to threaten King Berinon. It wasn’t part of his benefactors’ original plans, but he always enjoyed frightening his prey before he swooped in for the kill. Now, he was about to set fire to the king’s own home. What better way to terrify him could there be?

Alistair crouched down beside the hem of a curtain and reached into his coat to retrieve a set of flint and fire steel. He struck them together until one of the sparks caught the curtain and started to burn. Once that was done, he quickly slipped his tools back into his coat and headed for the door, hurrying across the hallway to get back to the outside ledge where he could make his escape. When the smoke began to spread, every guard in the castle would know he was here. He needed to get a head start so they wouldn’t catch sight of him until it was too late.

As he stepped outside, however, he heard an angry shout from above. Alistair looked up to see that one of the bell tower sentries had spotted him when he walked back onto the ledge. Well, it wasn’t as perfect as he had been planning, but the mercenary still had enough of a lead to get away. He threw the guard a grin, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes and making him look wild, and then flung himself over the banister, sliding down the edge of the gables as an arrow zipped past his head. Just before he fell from the roof, he caught the edge in his hands and dropped down more carefully so he wouldn’t break his legs.

Alistair didn’t wait to see if the other guards had noticed his presence yet. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he took off at a sprint towards the edge of the courtyard, hoping to outrun the heavily armored knights before they had a chance to cut him off. When he did glance over his shoulder, however, he saw thick smoke rising from the top castle windows. He laughed and looked back at the castle gate. The guards posted there were already beginning to lower it to trap him inside. He hastened his pace, his boots pounding as he hurried to outrun the dropping door. There was no way he was going to let himself be defeated by a few metal bars.

Just before the gate closed Alistair dove to the ground, tumbling through to the other side. He jumped back up to his feet and turned around to see the guards shouting at him from behind the bars. Instead of trapping him, they had locked themselves in the courtyard. The mercenary smirked, bending forward in a mocking bow, and then took off running before the knights could open the gate again.

With that, he had completed his last threat to the king. It was time for him to start making plans to kill Berinon’s daughter.

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

This

Except he would wear something more like this

Alistair Foss

Age: 22

Short Bio: Originally from the kingdom of Gorm, a land which was defeated and annexed by Edored, Alistair has no living family members. He is a survivor whose only goal in life is to see the light of the next day, and if that means raiding a carriage or assassinating a noble, then that’s what he’ll do. As the lives of others “have no bearing on his own,” he cares little for other people and maintains an aloof attitude towards anyone who tries to speak with him—although he reveals that he does occasionally have a rather sharp tongue. Overall, however, he carries himself in a very careless manner, giving little to no concern about the effects his actions have on others.

As for his career, Alistair has been a mercenary for five years. He has a reputation for being a stone-hearted killer and a vicious raider who, despite the king’s best efforts, no man has been able to catch. This fact, along with his apathetic demeanor, has earned him the nickname Black Wolf. It also made him the desired target to carry out the murder of the king’s daughter.

Other: Even though Gorm has been gone for nearly twenty years, Alistair still has the remnants of an accent in his voice. His weapon-of-choice is a set of daggers he keeps hidden in his coat, although he is capable of using a full-length sword or a bow if he needs to.

Down with the King [Prologue + Summer]

For some simple background information...

Kingdom name: Edored
King name: Berinon
Approximate Currency Conversion:
Ecus = $1
Gros = $10
Dolbas = $100
Fals = $1000

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

Crow took the stick from Penelope and nodded when she told him to call for her if he needed help. “You don’t have to worry about me, though,” he assured her with a brash grin. “By the end of tonight I’ll have these guards so confused, they’ll be putting each other in chains.” While it was a slight exaggeration of his abilities, the thief was confident that he could pull off the distraction without getting caught. Besides, he had never tried stirring up a commotion with fire before. He was curious about the kind of effect it would have on the guards. If the plan went well, he could even store it away for future use when he was finished with the king’s mission. Perhaps he could use it against the knights in the inner kingdom or even His Royal Highness, himself. He laughed under his breath. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

As Penelope took off to circle the camp in one direction, Crow hurried around in the other until he found a hiding place with a better view of the fire pit. He crouched in the shadows, using the wild shrubbery for coverage, and waited to give Penelope enough time to position herself on the opposite side. He stayed still for a short while and silently observed the guards until something caught his eye. One of the nobles was pacing in front of the thief’s designated tent: Gavin. The young guard looked slightly agitated, as if his patience was wearing thin. He was probably trying to decide whether he should enter the tent and risk walking in on a couple, or stay outside and risk getting in trouble for releasing one of the captive knights. Crow muttered a curse. With Gavin just one step away from realizing that he and Penelope had escaped, the thief didn’t have time to finish planning his route. He had to go now.

Gripping the two sticks in each of his hands, Crow stepped out from his hiding spot. He walked casually towards the fire pit as if he was just another noble who had found some wood to keep it lit. He was relying solely on the darkness to conceal his identity until he got close enough to the glow of the flames that the guards would be able to see who he was. Fortunately, this part of his plan went smoothly. None of the nobles paid him any more than a passing glance as he walked by them. He stifled a laugh. After dealing with his strict prison guards for a year, tricking untrained noblemen like these was almost too easy.

Once he had a clear path to the fire pit Crow broke into a run, finally drawing the attention of the closest guards. However, they were too late to react as the thief had already reached the pit. With one hand he thrust the sticks into the flames to light them on fire, and with the other hand he reached down to collect some of the cooling soot around the far edge of the pit. He smeared the gray-black stuff across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose and then sprinted towards the guards’ tents, letting out a feral holler and raising the torches to catch the fabric as he ran. His wild act worked perfectly. The nobles froze at the sight of a seemingly crazed man armed with a set of flaming sticks. Of course, their fright was short-lived, but it bought the thief enough time to set fire to three tents before they started to chase after him.

Crow glanced over his shoulder to see about a dozen men drawing their swords and shouting frantically at one another, while another group was running off into the woods with empty buckets to collect water to put out the fire he had started. He laughed and kept running, striking one of his torches across another tent to spread the flames. The plan was working. He just hoped that Penelope was having as much success on her end as he was on his.

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

Crow didn’t have to wait long for Penelope to return. After a few moments he saw motion between the trees, and soon the knight was back by his side. When she asked what his plan was, he shook his head and gestured for her to follow him back to the rebel camp. “You’ll see,” he said quietly, turning to walk through the trees. As they got closer to the camp, he crouched down to hide behind a cluster of bushes and peered between the branches. So far, it seemed like none of the guards had noticed their absence. He smirked to himself. Good.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Crow murmured, turning to look at Penelope again. “We have no flint or fire steel, so the only place to catch these sticks is in the fire pit at the center of the camp. Of course, in order to do that we would have to blatantly walk in front of the guards. No matter how incompetent they are, a move like that would be practically suicidal, especially with that wounded shoulder of yours. So,” the thief turned back to watch the guards roaming around their camp. “Here’s what I’m planning instead. We’ll split up and go around to opposite sides of the camp. I’ll take the sticks and run to the fire pit to light them, and then I’ll start setting the tents on fire.” He cast Penelope a playful grin. “I figured it would be better if I act as the diversion since you’re still injured, and I have more experience outwitting guards.

“Anyways, I’ll keep them distracted so you can sneak over to William and Abraxas without getting caught. Get them out of the camp and I’ll meet up with you on the way back to the village,” Crow tossed her the keys to the knights’ chains. “Sound good?”