Group 9

[Brinnyunlimited]

Ok people, this is where group 9's quest will get under way, feel free to check out the thread titled "Group 9" in the Character Creation forum to find out about your comrades.

We currently have five players (Four of which are Trainee's of Khaine ) and unless anyone happens to post a new character in the Character creation thread (fingers crossed for at least one warrior!) between now and a few days time, this is the amount of players we are likely to get started with.

I realise that it's Christmas time and some of you may be visiting family/friends etc so I shall be a bit lenient on post deadlines until after the new year. I expect most people to post at least once per week though.

Warpix
The Buoyancy of Water
Darmort
Raneth
Messiah of Death

If you'd all like to make an initial post to say hi and maybe introduce your character, we shall get started once you've all signed in!

[Darmort]

Awaiting your orders, SAR!

:rolleyes: I've played too much Dawn of War recently... it isn't healthy.

Anyway, Ventress... best described as someone who doesn't make friends, and prefers skulking in the shadows waiting before making her move. Who knows, you might get on the wrong side of her and she'll end up trying to kill you.

[Warpix]

Where's our fire support?!?!?!

I all well know too much about playing too much DoW

Well, I'm ready to get this started, but man, a group where only one person ISN'T a trainee of Khaine, and that person ends up being a shade, this is going to be very interesting, but hey, leaves opportunity for a good story line

[The buoyancy of water]

Mornin' all

Was never any good at DoW...

Rakia's been on druchii.net for a long time. Everything in her background has actually happened in various editions of this RPG, and Lord Ureal was also one of my old characters. I made them both NPC's when I was a mod in the last edition and that's how they met.

Cheers,
Dave

P.S. I'm down at my gf's from the 28th to the 2nd(my birthday!! ) and then she's up at mine until the 6th(ish). I'll be OK to post when I'm home but it'll be very doubtful when I'm away. Just so you know when I disappear for a bit...

[Raneth]

Hallucinating, foaming at the mouth: I'm ready for some fun

My character, creatively named Raneth, is itching for a fight. Let's see where Brinny takes us... btw, y'all look like a bunch of really smart fighters!

PS: DoW? Still hooked on my PS2, GG Isuka fanatic

Let's make it a good one, guys!

greetz,
Bobby

[Messiahofdeath]

btw, y'all look like a bunch of really smart fighters!

You’re just saying that because of your booming intelligence of 2

I was rather irritated by the fact that my previous group died out twice, so I really hope this will last longer to actually do more then simply kill off one of my party members teamed up with a crazed shade like before.

[Brinnyunlimited]

OOC: Ok guys, let’s get this party started! A few little pointers before we go

• Don’t think your characters are immortal. I will injure or even kill off characters that aren’t pulling their weight in terms of posts so try and stay to the deadlines I set and try and write at least a paragraph each time you post.

• The enjoyment of any RPG is in seeing your character grow and develop. I hope none of you envision your characters as on par with Malekith himself in terms of combat effectiveness just yet. This will come with time and I want to see you being sensible in terms of what your character can and can’t achieve. If you find yourself face to face with a party of Orc Big ‘Uns, it’s probably best to run away than stay and fight! Try and be sensible in the early parts of the campaign.



IC: It was a typical Naggaroth night. The wind stung the cheek as it lashed through the alleyways and streets of the city. Rain did not so much fall from the sky but rather launch at you, carried horizontally by the strong winds.
Each one of you had been a mercenary in the bustling city of Har Ganeth for sometime now, carrying out menial jobs for rich nobles and slave-masters. The docks and slave markets did not pay well for mercenaries, but there was enough work to ensure those strong of health could make a reasonable living from them, as long as they did not mind boring, repetitive tasks.

Imagine your surprise then, when out of the blue, a small, black envelope, sealed with a crimson wax motif arrived at your living quarters. The letter inside the envelope did not reveal much, but it did tell of an opportunity for fighting mercenaries to earn not only vast treasures, but the respect and attention of the great Lord Malekith…and positive attention from the Witch King is a reward no Elf should dismiss lightly.

The letter instructed that those interested in such opportunities should make their way to the Fell Dragon Inn at midnight on the first full moon of the year. You are told that once there, you should wait for the arrival of a cloaked figure that will be recognisable by the silver medallion he wears from his neck, a medallion bearing the same motif as the seal on the black envelope, a motif depicting a black Raven perched atop a sword hilt.

The night of the first full moon of the year has arrived and it is with great suspicion and curiosity that you journey to the Fell Dragon Inn, a small tavern hidden in an alley behind a large slavers compound. It’s the kind of tavern that attracts clientele of a less that “lawful” persuasion, the kind of tavern where Elves go to drink when they want to remain unseen, the kind of tavern that inconspicuous figures fit right in.

Rakia Kane: You are the first person to arrive at the tavern. You notice a small, round table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons of the tavern. Around the table are six wooden chairs and on the table in front of each chair is a cup of Dark Elven wine. Considering that this is the only empty table in the tavern, you decide to make your way over to it and sit in one of the empty seats.

Drak'Ne: You are the second person to arrive. You notice a small, round table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons of the tavern. Around the table are six wooden chairs and on the table in front of each chair is a cup of Dark Elven wine. You notice a small-framed female at the table who you assume, judging by her mannerisms and her attire, is a shade. You venture over to the table to take the seat. Perhaps this female Elf is the person you were meant to meet?

Ventress: You are the third person to arrive. You notice a small, round table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons of the tavern. Around the table are six wooden chairs and on the table in front of each chair is a cup of Dark Elven wine.
Seated at the table you see a small, weak looking female elf and a male seated with her. Perhaps they are a couple? However, the four empty seats around them seem to suggest they are expecting more company. Perhaps they could shed further light on who you are supposed to meet?

Raneth: You are the fourth person to arrive. You notice a small, round table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons of the tavern. Around the table are six wooden chairs and on the table in front of each chair is a cup of Dark Elven wine. Seated at the table you see two female elves, one short and small of build, the other large and vicious looking and a male elf. Perhaps a rich client and his two prostitutes? The six cups of wine laid out before the people seated at the table seem to be going to waste. You head over to the table to help yourself to a drink.

Sinfulblade: The final person to arrive. You notice a small, round table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons of the tavern. Around the table are six wooden chairs and on the table in front of each chair is a cup of Dark Elven wine. There are four people seated at this table, however none of them seem to be delighted with the company they are keeping. A small female shade, a large female elf, a male elf that looks like an assassin and a brutal looking thug, such an eclectic mix of characters you have never seen. If any table contained mercenaries hired for a mysterious job, it was this one. You make your way over.

OOC: Ok guys, talk amongst yourselves if you wish. You are awaiting you contact and you can make as many posts as you wish before his entrance. My next mod post will likely be around the 30th December. This gives you a chance to have any Christmas celebrations you may have planned, and also leaves the window open for any extra characters posted in the Character Creation forum between now and then!

[Warpix]

OOC: Well, I hope to have fun as well as a good RP with all of you

Drak'Ne had his head nodded down, his cloak doing the only thing it was good for, casting a shadow upon his face, noticeably hiding his eyes but letting light dance on his cheeks, lips, chin and end of his nose, Drak'Ne felt uncomfortable like this, even with his eyes hidden, he was already giving away too many details of how he looks, he wouldn't normally be here, but after his failure on his last, and most likely, final, slave raid of Bretonnia, anything that could get his favor with the higher military would excite him, however, such a thing would doubtfully happen in a place like this, too many shady people here, and just the fact that it was an Inn.

When he had ventured in, he thought that the short female next to him would be the person who sent the letter, but it didn't take long before others appeared, he kept shifting his eyes, trying to keep his head still while searching for the insignia that was on the seal, he couldn't really spot anything, he looked back down at the wine, thinking to himself and wondering whether or not it was poisoned, but considering no one had yet tried to kill him, he dismissed that thought. He thought about bringing his scarf back up to hide the rest of his face, as it had fell off his face and rested on his neck, hidden by his cloak when he abruptly sat down. It was odd feeling this insecure, or was it paranoid? He had once acted as a fearless, or at least, seemingly fearless leader of sixteen warriors for Malekith's sake! ... but that was long lost in the past and a good amount of his old talent had vanished.

Well, he decided that it was probably better to try to learn a little about the people around him before whoever had sent the letter made himself, or herself appear, or at least apparent, so, first thing was first, did these Druchii receive the same letter, or is the group out to kill him? He moved his right hand into his sash around his waist, grabbing hold of the letter, thinking that if they were out to kill him, he could probably only hope for an escape, so there wasn't too much risk known to him for this action, the then pulled out the envelope containing the letter, flicking it to grab attention of the almost silent group as he slapped it onto the table, the side with the seal facing up.

So, does this look familiar to anyone?

[Darmort]

OOC - I assume your italics are speech?


IC - Ventress eyed the Dark Elf sitting next to her, and then at the letter in his hand. She wondered briefly why she'd came here.

Curiosity, she thought, sourly. Curiosity and my freedom called me to it, and I came into this trap eagerly, like a cold one to a hunk of meat so a beastmaster could trap it. It was a stupid idea in thinking that letter actually had any significance... But if it's a trap, then why me? And why any of these pathetic weaklings? It makes no sense. It it were a trap, why mercenaries and why not lords and nobles with power and money?

She slowly shook her head, and looked at the elf's letter again. "Why show that off?" She asked. "Or did your one have some gem of information in it that mine doesn't?"

[The buoyancy of water]

Rakia hurried through the driving rain, eager to reach the warm shelter of the Fell Dragon Inn. Eventually she came to the Inn, hidden away from unwanted attention. With a last glance at the emblem above the door, she stepped over the threshold and into the glow of the fairly busy Inn. Once inside, she pulled off her hood and unfastened her cloak, glad to be able to finally remove the soaking item. With her cloak over one arm she blew on her gloved hands, rubbing them together to dispel the cold that still lingered in her fingers. She began towards the bar, but noticed the lone table set away from the others. With a slight shrug, Rakia made her way over and sat.

Her mind drifted. She thought back to the last envelope she had received like this. It had lead to a confrontation with followers of Khorne, and she had been the only to survive. It hadn’t brought her any closer the locating the damned Lord Ureal as she had hoped, but she was banking that this might at least start her off in the right direction. If it was important to the military, she may find out his whereabouts. It was well known that Lord Ureal had been a famous mercenary in his day, a member of the renowned Dark Hand no less. Many times the stories of their adventures were repeated around the fires of public houses much like this one, though fact and fiction had long ago become muddled.

Lost in thought, Rakia suddenly realised another elf was approaching her table. Her right had had been rubbing the scar next to her eye, and she quickly took her hand away, hoping this other elf hadn’t noticed. She withdrew away from him slightly as he sat down. She wasn’t comfortable around strangers, least of all those that covered themselves up to such an extent. The table soon filled up until she was sitting with four other elves. A strange mix, it was obvious they were a group of mercenaries waiting for someone. Suddenly the elf next to her slapped a familiar envelope onto the table, making her jump. She looked from the envelope to the elf as he spoke, then turned to the large she elf on her other side as she replied scornfully.

“I-I would assume that t-they all s-s-say the same thing.”

[Raneth]

OOC: Thoughts, Speech, let's have a good 'un!

Curse this rain. Raneth’s thoughts drifted back to when he got the letter, how the weather was clear and pleasant and how it had seemed like a nice offer. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He’d been active in this district before, back when the slavers paid good coin for a strong sword-arm, but those days were long gone. He grunted, and picked up his pace. Let’s just get there. Hot breath warming his face from inside a thick, black scarf, he ran through the alleys at alarming speed, agitating the small animals inhabiting them. Finally, he spotted the sign of the Fell Dragon.

Breathing heavily, Raneth stepped inside, and pulled down his scarf. Annoyed by the water dripping off the hood of his cloak, he pulled it back also. He looked around the inn. The letter spoke of earning Malekith’s attention, and he was expecting at least a Noble as His Greatness’ representative. Hmm. Maybe I’m early. Spotting a half-empty table with seemingly too much wine available, Raneth decided he might as well wait it out enjoying a drink. As he walked over, he sized up the company sitting at the table; quickly checking out the females first, then meeting the male’s gaze for a while... I’d have a lot more fun with them than you, wholesome. Especially with the tall one... before his eyes focused on the vicious she-elf’s body again. As he sat down at the table and reached for a glass of wine he said: Suppose you all don’t mind if I help myself to one of these.

Raneth didn’t feel the need to make conversation, the others also seemed to mind only themselves and he shook his head as he contemplated the waste of such a fine concubine’s services. Sipping his wine, he noticed another soaking wet elf walking up to the table. Sure, come join the fun. Only one seat was left empty now, and the newcomer’s arrival unsettled Raneth a little. What was the meaning of this? After a few moments, Raneth was made to understand by the sickly-looking male elf as he recognized the envelope. Both females’ replies amused him greatly, and he chuckled as he spoke to the small, stuttering one: Right you are, missie!

[Messiahofdeath]

Quite skeptical about envelopes that suddenly fall into his hands promising fame, fortune and the acknowledgement of Malekith himself Sinful was about to throw it away, but the obvious set back of the simple manual labor that he was appointed in this small hell-hole made him reconsider. He was a killing machine, an avatar of khaine, not some cheap harbor worker, thus he decided to check out the inn anyway, he would snatch even the slightest chance to get recognition, especially now.

The teal skinned elf arrived at the Fell Dragon Inn fashionably late. His black cloak soaked and now wetly hugging his body as the drenched material of the cloak stuck to every inch of his body that it was supposed to cover from the rain. He pushed the heavy doors open and slowly scanned the patrons of the bar or more specifically if they had the medallion mentioned in the letter. Finding no one that fit the description of the one he was looking for he decided to try his luck and walked over to the table where the others sat. This table alone could have housed the mercenaries that were supposed to come. He stood by the table for a second narrowing his green eyes and looking over everyone before taking one of the two spare seats and sitting down.

He pulled out a small fruit out from his cloak and proceeded to slowly peal it in his hand with his dagger, not minding the others as they started to entangle into awkward conversations. After some time when the fruit was almost completely peeled Sinful lifted his green eyes and noticed the black envelope on the table in the middle, he slowly tilted his head to the side cracking his neck before pulling out his own envelope and sliding it next to the one already on the table. Once both envelopes were close together Sinful went back to his task of peeling the fruit.

[Warpix]

OOC: Yes, my Italics=Speech for me, oh and Raneth, sorry, but I stole your method of character summarization in your sig, thought it might be helpful to others to have it there and also include sex

Drak'Ne's eyes ventured over to look at the thug like Druchii, he seemed to be pretty energetic for this kind of job, almost as if he knew something that Drak'Ne didn't. This all seemed odd, but at least it seemed that everyone here had received the letter. Drak'Ne turned his head slightly as to adjust his hood to face the direction of the tall female, he normally would just talk without turning his head, but considering how fierce this one looked, he thought it'd be best to at least seem to be respectful by looking at her while talking, although his eyes kept scanning the rest of them, waiting as if one would attack, although that possibility seemed more and more less likely considering how calm this group seemed to be.

Well, I'd like to know whether or not everyone here has gotten the same letter, I don't know about you...

Drak'Ne shook his head slightly, forcing the hood to quickly move, so that it seemed that he was looking forward of himself again, watching the empty seat and full cup of Dark Elven Wine.

But I think it odd that something that would gain Malekith's favor would start in a place like this. And I don't know about the rest of you, but it doesn't seem like any of us here are nobles or any high ranking official

Drak'Ne then looked down at his hand on the envelope, realizing how sickly he must seem, he should have ate something to at least to make him seem a bit healthier for this night, it made him a bit nervous, but at least it seemed that he wasn't the only nervous one at this table.

[Brinnyunlimited]

OOC: Ok, nice start everyone. I would like to introduce a new player to our group. He is a fighter and his character description can now be found in the "Group 9" thread in the "Character Creation" forum.
My next full modpost will follow on the 30th Dec.

IC: Maeko, you arrive at the Fell Dragon slightly later than the rest and your attention is immediately drawn to the five figures cowering round a table in the corner of the room. Each one of them looks shady, suspicious, uncomfortable and out of place.

As you slowly edge your way towards the group, you notice two envelopes on the table, both like the one you received yourself a few weeks ago. The envelopes are black, with a crimson red seal on them. The motif of the seal is that of a Raven perched utop a sword hilt.

You overhear the uncomfortable attempts at conversation between the group and come to the conclusion that none of these people are the the ones you were sent to meet, instead, they seem to be in exactly the same situation as you. You notice one empty seat left at the table but you are unsure if it was meant for you or someone else.

[Discipleofkhaine]

OOC: Hey all, this is my first RP, so I appologize ahead of time if Im a little rocky at this at first. And I guess Ill follow the talk and thought agenda. Anyway, hope to have a good game.

IC:

Maeko walked slowly toward the Fell Dragon Inn, in no hurry to reach such a shady destination. Living in the town and doing odd jobs for his father's company, Maeko had been to the Fell Dragon a few times before, each time ending with brused faces and broken knuckles. As he rounded the corner to the secluded tavern he drew a long sigh. Though he yearned for a sense of adventure, he highly doubted that anything good could come from the Fell Dragon.

What the hell am I doing? This is just gonna be a waste of time.

He slammed the door shut behind him as he entered the inn. Although he immediately recognized the round table, mainly because it had not been there on his previous "visits", he did not immediately venture over. Instead he walked right over to the bar and bought a bottle of some unknown liquid. He leaned against the bar as he took a few swigs straight from the bottle, feeling the prescene of eyes on him. With a smirk he stood back up and began slowly walking over to the table.

Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Mind if I join you?

He slid the chair out and sat down. He then reached out for the wine glass, and procedingly threw it across the room. The other members of the table were on edge and clearly nervous. Some of them even jumping at the sound of the shattering glass.

Never drink something that you didnt order yourself. Thats how they got my uncle.

He let out a soft chuckle as he took another swig from his bottle. He then set the bottle on the table and made a motion for them to take some if they so wanted. He could tell that some of his company thought it odd that he wore no cloak or mask to hide his face, his identity apparent for everyone to see. However, Maeko would have it no other way. It was after a few minutes that Maeko realized many of them had made a pile of their letters on the table. Maeko, following suit, tossed his on top of the collection of letters.

So, judging by the lack of now empty seats, it seems we are all here. And by the looks of the letters, for the same reason....Now what?

[Warpix]

Drak'Ne noticed the newcomer and thought to himself that he was probably the most charismatic out of this group and didn't make him feel any better about the wine, though he might be right.

We wait, whoever sent these letters said that their arrival would be at midnight, although it would be nice to get rid of the uncomfortableness, and perhaps learn a little about each other, or at least names, if we're all here for the same reason, it's probably very likely that we'll have to work together, mines Drak'Ne

He gave a smirk at the end of his name, perhaps a little creepy, but it was at his own amusement of such a mixed bunch of personalities at one table, his smirk faded as he started to wonder when the person who had contacted them all would arrive. Sitting there, he could hear the rain pelting the walls of the inn as he wondered where the contact was and watched the others in this room, looking for a silver pendant which bore the insignia, unfortunately, a wooden support beam that had a dimly lit lantern mounted on it, blocked his view of one of the corners of the inn.

[The buoyancy of water]

Rakia winced as the latest elf to join their mismatched group threw his wine glass against a wall before sitting down in the remaining chair. She had no idea what had possessed her to come to the Fell Dragon, she knew she couldn’t handle strange places or strangers particularly well, and she had known that this would be exactly the sort of thing that would happen. So she sat quietly, fiddling with her copy of the letter anxiously. The thought of working with such a group of misfits was scary. She didn’t even know how well any of them would actually be able to handle themselves when it got right down to it. Rakia had seen all too many boastful elves slain for biting off more than they could chew. She was confident in her own abilities: maybe she couldn’t talk the talk, but she could definitely walk the walk, as the saying went.

The elf that had got to the bar shortly after her finally brought up introductions, naming himself as Drak'Ne. This calmed her slightly, she would find out who everyone was, and then they wouldn’t be so much of a group of randoms round a table. She swallowed nervously before putting her letter on the table with the rest.

“Rakia Kane.” Rakia’s voice was barely a whisper, her eyes flicking to look at the newcomer for a split second before she resumes staring fixedly at the growing pile of letters. She smiled weakly, the worst part was over. Without the letter to hold, she began twisting the crimson ring on her left middle finger, waiting for the other faces to gain names.

[Raneth]

OOC: Welcome Disciple, glad to have another bruiser aboard Hope you all had a merry Christmas also!

Raneth too flicked his envelope onto the table as the newcomer approached. At least this one looks like he could take a hit. A swaggering one, he was, not nervous like the others, and he felt a tinge of sympathy. He reached for his wine, and took another sip.

The sound of breaking glass and the stranger’s boasting made him look up almost immediately, and Raneth fought against a wave of annoyance. Is this guy serious!? He emptied his glass as he glared at the presumptious elf. After a brief, affirming eye-contact he picked up the untouched glass of wine before the elf peeling his fruit, and looked at the sickly elf as he asked his question. You lot can call me Raneth... He stood up, looked at the newcomer again, and emptied his second glass in one gulp, flinging it against the wall afterwards. Some patrons were starting to get nervous, and Raneth grinned viciously. ...and don’t you dare try ordering me around, boy.

After a few tense moments Raneth sat down, smiling, and continued talking to the stranger: Got even better advice for you though: don’t drink from an unsealed bottle... He winked to one of the barmaids behind the counter. ...or that’s how they’ll get you.

[Discipleofkhaine]

Raneth and Maeko stared dead into the eyes of the other, each of them giving stares that could even un-nerve a nurgling. Moments passed in tense awkward silence, most of the elves more nervous than ever, including the elf named Rakia, who seemed as if she was trying to hide her trembling. Suddenly Maeko burst into laughter. He laughed so loud that everyone in the bar turned to look at him. Maeko tried to surpress his laughter as he wiped tears from his eyes.

The names Maeko. Maeko Blackmist. And you and I Raneth are going to get along just fine.

Maeko took a long swig from his bottle before setting it on the table, hoping Raneth would take it to refil his glass. He could feel the tenseness of the table fade away. Many of the table members even showing signs of smiles and smirks.

I live not too far from here. My father owns a fleet of ships called the Blackmist Vessels. He leases them out to raiders to scourge the coasts of whatever land you please. Theyre widely known for their speed, said to be some of the fastest ships in the druchii armada. But do you know what I have to say to that? To hell with it. I want no part in my fathers Noblism and Capitalism. Feels too Asur for my liking. Thats even why I cut my hair so short. I want nothing to do with my fathers long haired noble-ideas. "Marry this girl, start a business, make a living". It sounds like dragon shiz to me. Personally, I want to go off and become a ship captain and capture a few hundred-thousand slaves in the name of the Witch King. Then after Malekith gives me his blessings, I'll become a captain of one of the Black Arcs.

Maeko grinned at the idea of becoming a captain of the Black Arcs, a dream he truly desired. To lead an army of beasts, men, and even demons against the foes of the Witch King. He ran a hand through his extremely short hair, his symbol of freedom from his father's noble-istic ideas for him, and a symbol of promise to himself that he would leave this town and pursue his ambitions.

[Darmort]

Ventress growled slightly at the new comer. "But was there any need to waste valuable poisons?" She asked. She didn't particularly care if he sat with them or not, but with his own letter landing on the table, Ventress felt as if something was wrong. Okay, why six lowlife's such as us? Whatever we've done, it won't be important enough for Malekith, and no matter what we do, nothing will be important enough for Malekith's gaze.
"Fanciful thinking," she said. "Still, I doubt we'll get anywhere by calling each other Khainite. My name is Ventress." She didn't offer her hand to Drak'Ne, Rakia, Raneth or Maeko. She didn't trust them. Most likely, she wouldn't ever trust them. They weren't to be trusted. No one was. And was that Maeko talking of getting along with Raneth? Let him be a fool.
Although the only good thing she could think of was that the other female Druchii was at least a Khainite, well and true. Or at least, she dressed like she was an advocate of Khaine. If any, she would be the one that Ventress could ever trust... even if she did seem to be afraid of her own shadow.

[Messiahofdeath]

Sinfulblade kept himself out of idle chit-chat that started between the two egocentric brutes, not caring about anything except his fruit as the last of the peels silently fell on the ground beneath his chair. The khainate then sliced off a small piece of the greenish-gray lemon like fruit by pushing it against the blade with his thumb and flopped it into his mouth promptly chewing the piece up and swallowing it as his meadow green eyes noticed his glass being taken by the warrior sitting next to him. Instantly yet at a very slow speed his dagger parted from it’s dance with the fruit and went to the face of the brute stopping a few inches away from it.

“Do not irritate me”

Sinfulblade cracked his neck silently and looked the warrior in the eyes for a second or two, before lowering the dagger and bringing it to his letter on the table slowly underlining “To Sinfulblade” on the back with the tip of his dagger, when the rest noticed his name Sinful retracted his hand along with the dagger and leaned back with his chair bracing it against the wall not that far behind his back and going back to his juicy fruit.

[Discipleofkhaine]

The clock drew nearer and nearer to the time the groups patron was supposed to arrive. Maeko was trying to carry on conversation and do his best to remove the tension between everyone at the table. He was unsure of what the night might have in store for him, but it would be better to go into it with allies instead of enemies. He noticed the elf next to him had finished his wine, so trying to extend a hand of kindness toward the elf, he reached out to refill his glass. However, as he did the elf drew a dagger that he had been using to peel a fruit and thrust it towards his face. Maeko was startled by the gesture, but it was not the first time he had found a dagger in his face. The elf introduced himself as Sinfulblade by underlining his name on his letter. Although the table had once again grown awkward and tense, Maeko's face was calm and friendly. As if he was talking about the weather on a pleasant day.

Sinfulblade is it? Well its a pleasure to meet you. However I have one bit of advise for you friend. If you ever decide to come after me with that scrap of metal you call a blade, make sure you kill me on the first attack. Because I promise you that you wont get a second chance.

Maeko continued to look at his opponent who had not looked back up after resuming to eat his fruit. Maeko let go a small smile.

With all of these guys in such high fighting spirits, it seems I wont have as much work cut out for me as I first thought. All the better for me I suppose.

[Warpix]

Drak'Ne was now intensely staring at the clock, it wasn't very long 'till the contact was to arrive, and it was a good thing that it was so, considering the attitudes of Sinfulblade and Ventress, he didn't know long it'd be until someone leaped over the table while screaming bloody murder in hopes of doing so. Drak'Ne then had to force back a chuckle at the thought of those two as a couple, they seem to be a bit similar in attitude, but the idea amused him. His face stayed solemn though, wondering what Sinfulblade's real name was, or at least his name seemed a bit fake, very unlikely would a Druchii be given such a name in his opinion. He looked back down at the wines on the table, he considered how no one has died or have shown any bad side effects of the wine, so he decided that it was most likely not poisoned, but at the same time, he thought he better not take a drink from it, most likely it was meant for a toast, and if not, better to stay completely sober before a contact claiming to give the approval of Malekith come. He then looked down at his sash as his left hand rummaged through it, realizing that he had no money, he really hoped that they didn't have to pick up the tab.

Well, to kill time, what do you all do for a living?

[Darmort]

"Perhaps you two are boasting a bit much," said Ventress, glaring at Maeko, then at Sinfulblade, "But I dislike the tone of it. Blades down until we've heard from this... contact. At the very least, hear the words out first before gutting yourselves upon thine knives."

In her mind, she screamed. Males!

And what was Drak'Ne looking at me for? Does he think me some kind of harlot for him to bed? If he does, he'll learn otherwise. He'll learn otherwise rather quickly if he tries it. She noticed his arm move slightly, as if he was looking for something in his pocket, but she paid it no heed. If he's looking for coin to buy my services with... she seethed, inwardly.

[Messiahofdeath]

OOC: I was actually addressing Raneth, but didn’t make it clear enough since I used warrior, my bad.


Cocking an arrogant brow Sinful tilted his head to the side curiously and chuckled silently lifting his green eyes to gaze upon Ventress, his thin teal lips slowly formed into a slight smile as he shook his head ever so slightly.

“Calm down, pretty face, it’s not like anyone is drawing it’s weapon upon you… Though it would be a luscious sight indeed, don’t you agree?”

Sinfulblade kept a steady eye contact with the female for some time trying to determine if his chauvinistic comment had any effect on the clam outside of the female, before plucking another slice of fruit into his mouth. Once the juices of the fruit began flowing down his throat he slowly shifted his eyes to watch Drak'Ne rummage through his sash, this sight somewhat intrigued the khainate as a grin formed itself on his face.