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|Author:||Syjahel [ Wed Jan 13, 2010 1:30 am ]|
Her sword arm ached, her ribs had taken a fierce knock and her throat felt raw from screaming her defiance. Enemies came thick and fast, ragged mutant molemen falling to her sword and Khalea's bolts, while further back Sinful seized the light and Malus bravely made his last rearguard stand. It was all to no avail, the molemen were as numerous as the stars and the young highborn felt her Fate closing in.
She raised her battered old shield that had saved her life more times than she could count ... perhaps if she lived by some miracle, she'd carry a splinter of it like a talisman. Unfortunately a splinter it would likely be. For Syjahel nothing was inevitable, even death for though she'd seen plenty of it she had yet to imagine that she would ever die. The mercenary lady's youthful assurance grounded hard against reality as her back hit the cold stone floor, the breath knocked from her labouring lungs. All around her were the screams and stench of the vile beasts, closing in for the kill. Time flowed like tar. Her head was ringing from the fall. Desperately she tried to bring up her sword for a last strike as the molemen closed. I will not die like this! I still have my sword, let me go to Khaine with my enemy's blood on my lips!
But for the halberd, she would have got her wish. As the great blades scythed down, she scrambled to her feet and darted out of the path of the soldiers, headed for one side of the advancing front. Here she could perhaps form part of a line to block the tunnel and brace for the coming moleman charge ... the new troops were well-drilled and seemed to know what to expect: they were proof too that Sultra hadn't chosen mercenaries from lack of funds.
Heavily armed and armoured troops, arriving just as they were in dire need, and right by the entrance ... the young noble doubted that they'd been sent out of concern by their lofty employer. Syjahel had never been a believer in coincidence where her life was concerned; the paranoia common to all noble houses hadn't passed her by. They'd been used to flush the creatures, to draw them onto the blades of the Lord's household warriors. A seething wave of anger threatened even her cool rage. She'd been used like a slave, treated like disposable fodder. It was intolerable!
But for revenge, subtle and devious and full of pain and elegant fury, she would need to stay alive. Grimly, she gripped her sword-hilt and battered shield and willed herself to stand. Khaine grant that she wouldn't perish before she got to see the blood draiing from Sultra's white throat.
"Fall back to the line! Khalea, Malus! Fall back and regroup!" She didn't expect the Trainee of Khaine to hear her when his batle-lust took hold, so why call him by name? "To me!"
She had no idea if the mercenaries would respond, but as far as she was concerned there was no time to debate.
Syjahel will try to get up and away to one side of the halberd-troops, aiming to see if she can fit in on the end of a sheild-wall or other defensive position. She wants to kill as many molemen as possible - though the new guys are fresh and she and her companions are wounded, she isn't about to run from the fight! If sidelined she'll try to get a shot or two off from her handbow, she's angry and wants to keep killing! If her party do fall back to the line, she'll try to shoot to cover their retreat.
(I know it might be the most sensible thing for her to get behind the reinforcements and stay low, but a.) they might not let her do that and more importantly b.) Miss Noblewoman doesn't want to risk the loss of face ... not with so many people watching ...)
|Author:||Messiahofdeath [ Sat Jan 16, 2010 11:07 pm ]|
Even though time was of the essence now Sinful took a valuable moment to gaze at the very last seconds of the slave’s life that he had sacrificed. Grinning with utmost glee the teal trainee turned back at the task at hand and cracked his neck slowly approaching the group of molemen at the fore. Eyes narrowed and his right hand clenching the hilt of the bastard sword in a vice like grip as the strides separating him from the action in front dwindled away.
Finally two of the mutants noticed the approaching elf carrying their accursed light with him. Separating from the group that tried desperately to overcome the female noble they sprinted towards the ready trainee.
Watching the two beasts close in Sinfulblade held his breath and closed his eyes striking out with a furious hiss at the leading beast. The sleek elven blade swept through the air and separated the leading foot of the moleman from the rest of his body, the shocked creature screeching out one last time before he hit the ground hard with a wet grotesque sound.
Wasting no time Sinful tried to bring the sword down onto the head of the second beast, but his strike was swiftly blocked by the berserker who immediately closed in. Seeing no other alternative at the moment Sinful plunged the witch light towards the face of the creature making it squeal in pain as it flailed his strong arms about. With luck staying on the creature’s side for the moment he scored a blind hit on Sinful’s face, bright blood running down teal skin as the arrogant kaihanate was forced to stumble back.
Furiously hissing towards his opponent Sinful quickly took a few additional steps back, enough to grant him enough time to place the light upon the ground. With a spare hand freed up, the tall druchii quickly unsheathed his short sword and aimed both of the blades towards the beast.
“I shall separate the head from your heinous body”
With yet another flesh wound added to the score of the beasts and the sight of reinforcements coming, noticed when Sinful glanced at the two females wanting to know how their fight was going, the shackles holding back the fury hidden within started to break.
Before hell broke loose completely Sinfulblade took a second to glance at the noble woman who was now giving out orders as if she was the leader of the pack. Hissing under his breath the authority defying khainate parted his lips in a silent roar as he charged towards his remaining assailant.
If the space separating him from the moleman will be sufficient enough for acceleration Sinful will attempt to use his acrobatic training to pick up speed and then leap towards the beast with both swords extended forwards in a torpedo like fashion intending to simply impale the creature. If the space will be insufficient Sinful will attack with a purely offensive strategy in mind, his short sword striking at the knees of the beast to force him into defense whilst the bastard sword aiming for the neck area and slashing from the other side a second or so later
|Author:||Drainial [ Sun Jan 17, 2010 1:03 am ]|
Two great masses now faced each other in the narrow confines of the tunnel, with the small band of mercenaries trapped in between the two. Surprisingly all of them seemed rather unconcerned about the state of affairs, but if things had been bloody before now the sanguinary feast would begin in earnest.
Placing a killing bolt straight into the spine of the beast on its knees before her Khalea turned to face the rapidly approaching horde. Her crossbow shivered in her hands as the familiar old friend lived up to its name and rained death down upon the enemy, the wounded molemen lived only long enough to be trampled by their brethren. If there had ever been any reason or logic to be found in the twisted minds of the stygian children of chaos the bright lights carried by both the mercenaries and the newly arrived household warriors had long since obliterated it. They lived only to kill now, to rend and slice, crack bones and shatter hearts, anything; anything to bring back the darkness that was their world.
Malus, closest to the oncoming horde was more clearly aware of this than any other elf present, with the sacrifice of the slave and the newly arrived reinforcements the shade saw his opportunity to save his own life and not damn the rest of the group to the same bloody fate as the slave. Nobility no longer being required Malus followed Syjahel's advice and hurried back toward the oncoming warriors.
Sinful staggered away from the frenzied moleman thrashing wildly at him. Looking to free up his left hand for a blade Sinful hastily placed the witch light on the cold stone floor. Drawing his short sword it cleared the sheath just in time to catch a claw meant for his throat. Blades in hand and with an enemy before him Sinful gladly gave himself back to the blood haze.
The world became so much simpler, nothing but hearts beating and blades falling. All but howling his holy rage Sinful lashed out with both blades, a hail of attacks meeting the equally frantic fury of his bestial opponent. Claws scored off colour skin and steel ripped through flesh as the two savaged one another, little thought given to defence on either side. With two such wild and wanton warriors hacking away at one another the fight was never going to last long. Ducking low under a savage swing Sinfulblade lashed out with his short sword, the blade sank into the pale flesh of the moleman. The beast fell forwards screeching and still clawing at the air. Graceful through his madness Sinful deftly sidestepped the thrashing creature to bury his bastard sword in its skull, finally bringing it the darkness it craved.
Syjahel scrabbled to her feet and immediately found herself pushed forward by the packed line of warriors, there was no room to fall back, but then she did not want to. Sliding over to the left-hand side of the advancing column she hastily fell into step. After a few feet Khalea was likewise subsumed into the mass, reluctantly securing her repeater to her back and drawing her sword. Malus too was soon with the troops and he too drew his blade. No room to go back, only forward now.
Even as they neared him it became obvious that Sinfulblade was in no state to fight in ranks, but then in these narrow confines there would be little choice.
With a final chattering roar the horde hit home. Only four could stand in that space at any one time, and once again all of the mercenaries found themselves embroiled in combat.
Taking another blow on her already ravaged shield Syjahel fought with the discipline and verve that were the hallmarks of a well educated young lady. Sinful fought with neither discipline nor style, but his two blades flew like wheat threshers at harvest time, driving into the mass. The two shades were less fortunate, their skills were not suited to this, none the less they played their part, swords singing in the illuminated hell that was the battle.
Skilful warriors though they were the four mercenaries would have been buried beneath the sheer weight of the mole men had it not been for the soldiers of Sultra behind them. The whole mass pressed forwards and the spear points struck out. Halberds and Dranach's reaped a terrible toll on un-armoured flesh, on beasts that had no notion of weapons or of organised war.
For many minuets the battle raged on, soon the bodies of mole men began to pile up on the floor; but nor were mutants the only ones to suffer. On the battle raged, both sides straining against one another, pushing forwards. For all their fury the molemen could not hold, little by little, one by one the hideous fate that awaited them penetrated light addled minds and the duel nature of all beasts came into play.
Savage and fearless one moment, cowards the next the horde began to break. With a near palpable shiver the whole mass began to retreat, and the Druchii pressed forwards. For all the bloodshed that had filled the tunnels for the last few minutes this was by far the most brutal. As the creatures routed each and every Druchii rushed forward with their blades out stretched, no longer striving to kill the molemen could only die.
After several more brutal minutes the last of the shattered mole man mob receded into the dark leaving a terrible pile of dead and some truly exhausted mercenaries. Bathed in blood near head to toe, much of it their own all four of the mercenaries were swaying on their feet. Stepping forwards one warrior, burnished armour dented and covered in gore himself, raised a voice in greeting.
"Our thanks to you," he rasped, voice raw from shouting battle cries in the depths of the earth
"These creatures have been plaguing us for months; we could never get close to them in numbers large enough to count. If there are enough left to trouble us further I would be very surprised.
"I am commander Liesh, captain of Lord Sultra's garrison here. My lord instructed me to say that should any of you survive he would see you in his study immediately." The officer turned to a soldier at random
"Guardsman, show these fellows to the master's study. No tarrying lad, the peer said at once."
Angry though many of them were the group of mercenaries were all far too tired and bruised to argue, half walking, half limping they made their halting way up the stairs and back into the world of trees and birds.
The climb seemed far longer than the decent had been, and that had not been short. With no rest since going down into the tunnels and still caked in gore, their many light wounds and scratches still bleeding, it was with no little relief that the four sell swords found themselves outside a stout ironwood door near the very top of the tower.
Knocking three times sharply their escort waited for a muted command to come before opening the door. Wearily the four Druchii filed inside. Sultra was sat behind a tall desk, seemingly looking through sheaves of documents, no one else was present. Before the desk were five hard looking chairs. Without waiting for permission Sinful slid into one of them, uncomfortable though it was just being of his feet was bliss.
"Yes do sit down," Sultra said, whether the rest of them were waiting for permission or simply had not had time to move could not be known, but the other three all sank into chairs as well.
"So you survived then, not young Ghost I see, a pity that. Though I must say I am surprised that so many of you made it out alive, you certainly didn't look like much. Still, appearances can be deceiving as the old saying goes." Putting down his pile of papers Sultra leaned forward on the desk
"As I am sure you have noticed we have been having something of a rodent problem. My grandfather had an excellent piece of advice on how to deal with moles. What you need to do is lay down a saucer of milk in the grounds, each day, eventually the mole gets used to it and begins to drink. It gets into a habit and every day at much the same time they come to the surface to drink. Then, when it is used to having everything just as it likes it, you wait for it, and just as it pops its head out of the ground, you smack it on the head with a spade. Ingenious I always thought, but I never had a chance to try it until the tunnels beneath my house became infested with the vermin.
"It became quite a nuisance, traders refused to do business with me after the first few went missing, very irritating. So, I decided to start hiring some 'saucers of milk'. You are the first to survive, though I suppose you had the luck of being hired on spade day." Sultra opened a draw in his desk and pulled out several pouches of coins.
"For your fine work today," he said, placing the bags on the desk before him.
"200 gold apiece seems fair to me. None of you look very well, if you wish you can see my healer, she will get you patched up quickly enough I dare say." he settled back into his chair and studied the still silent mercenaries as they plucked their earnings from the table.
"Now I said before that this was a test, and so it was. All of my 'saucer’s of milk' have been tested, you passed. I do have a bigger fish to fry, but I will have no specifics for a day or so. Take a day’s ease, there is an inn not too far from here, I can arrange for rooms for you if you like, the land lord owes me a great deal of money and is short on cash. It’s called the Harping Harpy, you will recognise the sign I am sure. Come back here the day after tomorrow if you are interested in a longer term contract.
"As for now, if you have any questions do feel free to ask away. If not the healer is two levels bellow, the guard who brought you here will show you the way."
That all seems fairly self explanatory, during the next day you can go out and spend some of your money if you like. You can visit two shops, just use common sense considering if two items you want are likely to be in the same shop, there are no supermarkets in Vikarh. Time to start setting deadlines I supose, the next deadline is 12 midnight GMT 19th Jan.
|Author:||Mythic77 [ Sun Jan 17, 2010 7:48 pm ]|
Khalea was surprised at how upfront Sultra was. However, given the pay maybe he though they would figure all was forgiven. It wasn't, and Khalea wondered if it would be safer to disappear over the next day, and try to find work where the employer hadn't already tried to kill her. However, if she left she wouldn't ever get a chance to get back at Sultra for nearly killing her.
She took the 200 gold, and combined with the gold she had taken from Ghost's corpse she was pretty well off. She figured that she should upgrade her equipment as much as possible with what she had currently. Hopefully with better arms and armor she could survive whatever their "employer" was going to throw at them.
Khalea has a number of goals. She will offer a trade to Syjahel, one shade cloak for 2 daggers. If an agreement can not be reached she will attempt to sell the extra shade cloak. Khalea's next goal will be to purchase light armor, a buckler, and 4 throwing daggers.
(OOC: I left it rather vague since i am not sure where or when i would see the others. This way you know where Khalea plans to be if you want to run into her.
Also, do we keep a 1 post each order or can we multi-post if two charecters are talking between each other?)
Multi post when ever you think it appropriate
|Author:||Syjahel [ Sun Jan 17, 2010 8:09 pm ]|
The battle was frenzied, and Syjahel had only the barest time to get to the side of the line. Luckly, her training held, and she soon found her niche next to a battle-hardened warrior wielding a halberd with grim precision. The bloody slaughter turned to a rout. With her sword and battered shield in hand, covered in gore, aching from a dozen wounds, the young highborn's breathing was ragged but her bloodlust was appeased. For the present.
Captain Liesh's words did not make her temper any better, but she spared a last glance at the blood-stained, corpse-huddled floor and turned on her heel to follow the guardsman to Sultra's office.
The upper air was sweet, even within the confines of the tower complex. The heavy stone walls were as nothing to the oppression of the tunnels below, and the growing fatigue of the aftermath was balanced for a little while by the euphoria of survival and joy in the pale, wintry sunlight.
Sultra was there, of course, frost-white hair over pale skin and dark eyes as changeable - and untrustworthy - as the sea. In other words a typical Druchii, albeit one more ingenious than most. Perhaps she'd have that white scalp woven into a decoration for her family's standard.
She'd imagined this meeting since she had stepped into the tunnels. Her wrath was a fine, cool burning in her chest. The sound of his pain would be soothing, the feel of her knives working on his skin a balm to appease her sense of outrage.
Of course, that was the way of a childish, petty noble - to pout and lash out at the first sign of wrong, to reward any slight, real or imagined, with a beating or flaying. As entertaining as it might be to pull out his fingernails, slipping tiny blades under each with the delicate precision of a Bride, there were other, better ways. Syjahel was young, but she had grown up in a highborn household. Sultra had already underestimated her, and the others he'd hired like so much cattle. The insult was only the kindling for the fire of her revenge, and like all truly great conflagrations, it would be hot, violent and capable of taking the city with it - but it must be carefully prepared. There was another thing, too. Someone like this, someone who had survived so long in society, highborn, yet keeping just out of the edge of the main city ... she could only imagine what he had to teach. She could learn much while she waited, planned, designed a fitting reply to his presumption. First things first. As she sank into the chair she let it be seen that she was angry, in her movements and her body language, in the malevolence of her eyes.
The young noblewoman reached forward and took the money - she'd had and spent far more than this, but it would pay for a few things - and tucked it carefully away before speaking.
"My Lord has quite a refined sense of humour." She glared at him, the picture of rage barely controlled, yet keeping her tone just on the sweet side of snapping. "Sending us into the tunnels like bait to check his vermin problem. Very original. Very ... inconvenient." Controlled or not she had to restrain the sudden impulse to smash the battered remnant of her shield into his face. "You will, no doubt, already have made plans to replace such items as we have used beyond repair in your little exercise.
"Yes, I will use the services of your healer, and I hope that she has a skilled hand. I will also take time to rest and I am sure that my companions in arms and I will have much to discuss. I cannot say that I think very much of your style of recruitment, my Lord, but perhaps you have been living here alone away from society for a while - I hear the mind devises its own entertainments in such times." She paused, leaning a little closer to the seated nobleman, her dark eyes on a level with his. "We shall have to see if I can't give you something else to think about ..." It was a threat of course; he would expect nothing less. But from the glitter in her green eyes, the ghost of a smile just barely visible on her blood-stained face, other interpretations were possible.
She sat back in her chair and waited for the others to respond. Perhaps the teal Elf would treat Sultra to his own personal meeting with Khaine. Plans aside, that would be entertaining to watch.
Syjahel will see what the others have to say and then go to the healer, the inn and a nice hot bath. Shopping later.
(OOC: now I don't think for a second that Syjahel could take Sultra on in a fight and win, but she's a Druchii noble so she's only read of modesty and humility in books. I'm thinking that we will have a chance to talk in character and do the shopping before we get back to him with a response, if that's all right, so I will think on what she needs to buy.)
|Author:||Drainial [ Wed Jan 20, 2010 6:34 pm ]|
Once more the group appeared content to let Syjahel do the talking, though whether they listened to her themselves was another question altogether. Lost in their thoughts, or perhaps faint from exhaustion and loss of blood Sinful, Malus and Khalea all simply sat and thought.
Syjahel however was more vocal. Behind the desk Sultra seemed blithely unconcerned about her all too obvious anger, with a small chuckle he said
"There is no call for you to concern yourself with me, I have plenty to occupy my mind. As for equipment, I have made plans to give you work and to pay you for it, how you go about achieving my ends and the equipment you choose to do it with I leave to you.
"As for the healer her surgery is, as I have said, two floors bellow and the inn three streets away."
Without warning the door opened and the soldier who had escorted them from the tunnels came in, with a bow he said
"You rang, my lord."
"I believe we have finished here, take these elves to the infirmary." With that Sultra seemed to put them out of his mind and looked back at his work, scribbling away on some incomprehensible form.
Not exactly mollified by this somewhat abrupt dismissal the four surviving mercenaries got to their feet and followed the guardsman out.
The walk was not too long and they soon reached a simple polished oak door engraved with the medical rune. Their guide knocked respectfully and was promptly answered
"Alright, come in. What needs fixing this time? The healer seemed to be a somewhat short tempered female in her final years; clearly never beautiful age and responsibility leant her a kind of dignified grace. Like Sultra and many other elderly Druchii she brooked no argument as she set her assistants to fetching bandages and grinding fresh poultices.
"Nothing too badly broken I don't think, She said, feeling Syjahel's ribs under her tunic
A bit bruised, and... Yes, one cracked. Right, take that tunic off it needs a bandage."
"But..." Syjahel began to object before the tunic was pulled clean over her head by a nurse mid sentence.
"I prefer to look after myself," Malus said, pulling away from the healer's probing hands,"
"Nonsense," was her response "A childhood not picking the wrong mushrooms doesn't make you a doctor."
She was indomitable, but efficient and within a couple of hours all four were hurried out of the door, ego's a little worse for wear but feeling much better physically and having picked up a collection of bandages and self dissolving stitches.
"To the Harpy then?" The guardsman asked as they emerged. As the majority nodded an affirmative he led them down to the base of the tower to a side door.
"Down that street," He pointed "Then turn left then left again a hundred yards further on. You can't miss the sign.
Ok this is our first time with deadlines and there are always problems; exams, work, school, whatever. Still two out of four is hardly good going. Now is the time to shop, relax, and be merry until the end of the next day (you have a night at the inn then the whole next day for whatever you want to do) when you need to be back in Sultra's office. Anyone who does not show up in said office will not be going on the larger quest. Sorry to be like this but having just had my own group closed essentially for this reason I want to keep things moving forward.
The next deadline is 12 midnight 24 Jan 2010.
|Author:||Messiahofdeath [ Wed Jan 20, 2010 11:20 pm ]|
Once again feeling both steel extensions of his arms in place the frenzy prone khainate gripped the hilts of his swords glaring down his opponent. One last glance at the world around him before the ever present veil of bloodlust was lowered. Howling whispers raged around Sinfulblade as vision blurred and muscles pumped with unholy strength.
Striking the blades at one another Sinful hissed a defiant war-cry and leaped at the berserk moleman standing but a few feet away from him. Brilliant arcs were displayed in the air as druchii steel slashed and stabbed at the freakish creature, not nearly as elegant, but just as brutal were the creature’s claws that met the blades in a deadly dance of death. Small cuts and slashes were exchanged as well as taunts and furious grunts in the midst of battle, but finally one emerged victorious.
Ducking low between both claws trying to meet at his neck Sinful buried his short sword into the underbelly of the moleman with all the strength he had. Immediately as the weapon stopped its slice by hitting the backbone of the creature colorful gore and guts cascaded from the fresh wound. Flailing about in excruciating agony the beast tried to strike downwards, but the teal trainee was too quick for him. A quick sidestep later Sinful’s prized bastard sword was already buried into the skull of his nemesis, who’s body hit the floor already twitching in fatal spasms.
Grinning a mad smile of glee Sinfulblade turned on his heels and readied himself for the collision with the horde of monstrous nightmares of the caverns even as the disciplined soldiers of Sultra along with his fellow mercenaries approached him from both sides. Unable to apprehend the danger and sheer volume of the creatures’ number Sinful dove into the fray with a wide smile and ever singing blades. Fountains of blood and gore showered the teal khainate as both his skin was scared as well as bodies of the molemen were hacked to pieces by his weapons as well as the steel of fellow druchii all around him.
Though skilled and excelling at hacking away at several opponents at the time, a skill especially useful in such confined spots, Sinful had little idea as to how many times his mindless fighting lead him to stray too deep into the mass of enemies and the men around him had to defend his flanks. The teal khainate did not know as to how many times he now owed his hide to the soldiers around him.
As quickly as it started peace once again reigned in the silent darkness filled tunnels. Only the faint moans of injured soldiers and the sound of his own panting could be heard as Sinful slowly returned to consciousness. Sinking to his knees in utter exhaustion Sinful glanced about, finding the carnage that was now displayed all around the only grotesque stimulus that gave him slow stamina rejuvenation.
Slowly rising to his feet he noticed one of the warriors leading all of the mercenaries back up the gargantuan flight of stairs. Spitting at a severed head of a moleman lying nearby Sinfulblade gathered himself up and dusted of the slightly less bloodstained sleeve of his before dragging his feet in pursuit of the group.
Entering the quarters of Lord Sultra the arrogant trainee brushed any remains of etiquette he still may had and casually dropped onto the closest chair, his green eyes narrowing and glaring furiously at his employer. Although for all it’s worth he did not say or do anything. He listened to the pompous explanation of mole-whacking that Sultra gave them yet he said nothing, he listened attentively to the young noble speak with a concealed yet audible hatred in her voice and did not say anything. However, once the Highborn called for the guards to escort the hired-blades out Sinful rose from his chair and leaned over the table.
“I appreciate the subtle cunning and masked complete disregard for our hides, for what’s its worth I would gladly make a toast to that, however… However, know this that even though the scum of the town are easy to take advantage of, use as bait, cattle or expendable cannon fodder, there is the danger of one of those rats to be just a bit on the insane side and chew at your neck during a meeting. A wise lord as yourself knows that it is best to avoid some lowlife gnawing at his neck”
Smiling a sincere smile the teal elf leaned back and bowed to his master before he kicked one of the chairs over and walked out of the room in a few quick strides.
Next stop was at the healer’s chambers. For an old hag the damned woman managed not only to do the job fine, but humiliate one and all of the mercenaries in the process. Unsure why Sinfulblade left the chambers feeling a strange sense of awe and fear of the woman. He swore to himself he would rather die in the upcoming mission than visit her one more time.
With a hefty amount of gold in his pouch and his wounds cared for, Sinful saw no other path than to go to the aforementioned Harpy inn and grab a bottle of wine or two. If the alcohol would not provide enough food for thought as to the merits of working for Sultra it would be a fitting reward for himself for not dying on the sharp tips of claws the monsters of the caverns tried to impale him on.
Since he is not looking to buy anything Sinful will just head towards the inn to down a bottle or two of their fine wine.
|Author:||Darkdoom [ Thu Jan 21, 2010 3:42 am ]|
OCC: First of all sorry for not posting for so long ! And thanks for being so patient with me (I had absolutely no internet so posting was a little bit difficult). I'll (hopefully) post regular again from the 27th on. If I don't post do as you see fit.
Thanks for posting for me Drainial that was exactly the style I wanted it. And now to write all my missed posts (as you probably have noticed my post's are never that long, my character and I are not people of many words, so this will probably not be long either).
Malus enjoyed the wet crunch when his bolt's hit the truek, killing stuff really was fun! When he saw the lone slave being pushed towards the oncoming horde he felt guilty for a second for not even feeling pity for that dirt, but only feeling exited for being able to bring in a few more shoots at the moles.
His focus was totally on the oncoming foe, so that he at first didn't even notice the oncoming help.
Only when Syjahel shouted his name did he see the opportunity to fall back. Seeing how close the moles had come he was shocked by how close he had escaped certain death. Though he was not shocked because he might have died the true horror for him was the image of him dying without having his vengeance.
Promising himself not to die and be it for that one purpose he fled to the friendly..., well at least friendlier lines.
Seeing how he was trapped between the charging forces he knew he had to fight again. Not wanting to challenge his luck (and not seeing a reason to fight he tried to fight as little as possible.
He felt very tired when the fight finally ended; too tired to even stare angrily at the commander. Without a word he followed him to Sultra leaving the talking to the others. Only when they were about to leave did he remember the mole had hanging from his belt.
Saying: "I think this belongs to you." He passed the bloody head to the lordship bouncing. The head bounced on the desk leaving some of its blood on the table. Without a further word or a glance back he left with his companions.
The healer turned out to be more competent than he cared to admit healing his wounds better than he could ever have.
Feeling better and with the comfortable heaviness of money in his purse he went to the Harping Harpy to meet with his companions.
OCC: I'll write the rest later.
|Author:||Mythic77 [ Thu Jan 21, 2010 6:56 pm ]|
Khalea took the healing with saying a word, letting healer work on her while observing the rest of their group. She had gotten off relatively well, seeing as she had fought at range most of the time. Unlike her companions, Khalea did not react to the Druchii lords careless manner about the mercenaries with anger. She felt it but she would rather wait and take revenge on him later, rather than revealing her irritation now. Also, there had been several points where Khalea could have died, and she defiantly wanted to take some time to relax. She figured that tonight would be a good night to stay calm, albeit she was not going to lower her guard with a lord that had already shown how much he cared about his minions. She could go shopping tomorrow, getting armor and some other equipment.
Khalea set off for the Haring Harpy, leaving the shopping until the next day. She made sure that she had her room, securing her equipment and leaving She wanted desperately to sleep, however she needed to make sure she was well fed and that all her weapons were clean before she could pass out. So she ignored her bodies cries for sleep, and instead walked back down to the common room, forcing herself to ignore her bodies cries for sleep.
She picked a table in the corner and sat facing the room, with the wall to her back. She began dismantling her repeater crossbow, making sure to get the dirt and blood and ore out of the weapon. While she worked on the Uraithen, she ordered herself food and drink from a serving slave while she awaited her companions.
Khalea will clean off her weapons while observing the room and all the Druchii in it.
|Author:||Syjahel [ Fri Jan 22, 2010 7:42 pm ]|
The last few hours had filled many days' worth of events, and the young noblewoman had become low on reserves, patience and blood. It was a shock to be back in the hands of a brusque, competent healer - most of the battlefield medics she'd encountered had been taciturn to the point of silence - and she was too startled for a moment by the rough weight of the woman's command to resist. She bore the procedures resolutely, with a fiery glare at any passing slaves who dared to look upon her bloodied form, but in silence. Then it was off to the inn and a room and at last, a bath.
This moment made the whole battle seem more distant, and put the events into perspective (or gave them a kinder gloss seen through a haze of steam and wine). Normally, she'd celebrate her victory - any survival is a victory - in the flesh-house or at some loftier revel, but Syjahel wasn't at her father's estates any more. This would do, she mused as she changed into clean clothes, worn but still of once-fine manufacture; this would do very well. Sultra would keep. And he'd give her what she wanted, too. Arrogance as well as the warmth of the scented water still dripping from her hair lent her a warm glow of assurance.
Dressing and preparing herself for the evening (still armed, of course) she went downstairs to socialise a little with her erstwhile companions. It never hurt to get the measure of those one was to work with.
She sat nearest to the Shade girl, Khalea, careful not to crowd her or get too close - not hithuan, precisely, more a respect for the outdoor and wary nature of the Autarii. After a small conversation, spaced with many pauses, she agreed to a trade - Ghost's Shade Cloak for two of the daggers. It seemed a good bargain to the noblewoman, and she was pleased that Khalea was prepared to talk. It made the work more interesting if they could at least be a little sociable amongst themselves. The young Lord's daughter knew that to converse is not to presume a friendship, but she preferred to get along with her companions even if they did not yet trust each other.
Syjahel will make the trade amicably and start to think about what she needs to buy - most notably a new shield, she will probably leave it at that for now but if I think of anything soon I'll try to make it known before the next part gets underway. For the rest of the evening, a little drinking (not getting drunk - for too vulnerable) and talking and then sleep. Comments about flesh-houses aside, alone.
|Author:||Drainial [ Fri Jan 22, 2010 11:36 pm ]|
With the whole next day free the four newest hirelings of Lord Sultra all made their way to the Harping Harpy. They found a decent sized establishment, one of the better inns in the city. Situated near several mansions the inn catered largely for personal guards and officers, perhaps putting them up in such a place was something of an apology for having used the group so harshly on their first assignment, probably not though.
Regardless of motive the Harpy was a comfortable place, the sign above the door depicting a harpy high above Klar Karond, strumming on a gilded harp. Though they arrived together the party soon split up, each with different priorities.
Happy for the moment with the rudimentary wash down they had all received while their wounds were treated Sinfulblade headed to the bar
"Bottle of red," he demanded, dropping a couple of coins over the counter. Recognising an elf in no mood to discus vintages the maid quickly retrieved a bottle of house and a glass. Ignoring the glass Sinful scooped up the wine and moved to a table facing the door.
Malus seemed to have a similar evening in mind, taciturn as ever he slapped a coin on the counter and nodded towards a barrel, with a flagon of wine in hand he made his way over to the same table as his new companion.
Khalea however felt the need to be a little more organised, tracking down the inn keeper she ensured that her room was in fact booked and Sultra hadn't left them sleeping in the common room. Having been assured that yes indeed her room was on the third story, second from the left, she returned the common room and the table commandeered by her companions. Taking a seat she placed her repeater on the table and began to give it a thorough clean 'take care of you weapons and they will take care of you,' the saying went after all.
Not deigning to go to the bar herself Khalea waved over a scantily clad serving maid (the hemline of the dress suggesting that she was in fact anything but a maid in the strictest sense) and orderd both food and wine. Fighting other people’s wars was hungry work. The place was full enough, two tables besides their own bustling with off duty guardsmen. The bouncers were truly huge, but then they would have to be if this mob ever turned violent, trained soldiers all.
For Syjahel the basic hose down she had endured at the healer’s hands was nothing like good enough. Tracking down the inn keeper shortly after Khalea she demanded that a bath be drawn at once. Twenty minutes later she was soaking in a large bronze tub having hot water poured down her back by mild mannered slave girls, eyes put out for modesties sake.
Refreshed, redressed and a good deal calmer than she had been Syjahel made her way back down to the common room an hour after the others to find that little had changed. Two bottles stood empty on the table, but none present seemed much the worse for wear just yet.
Taking a seat beside Khalea she said
"You don't really need that extra cloak, do you?" Ten minutes bartering left one estranged noble with a shades cloak and one shade with two more daggers in her belt.
With that all three prepared to spend a reasonably relaxing, if not entirely comfortable evening before a restorative and hopefully more comfortable night’s sleep.
Plenty of shopping to be done tomorrow, remember, two shops only but if you want, say, a shield and light armour that would likely be in the same place, as would a long sword and a spear.
Edit-oh and the deadline is 26th, 12 midnight GMT
|Author:||Mythic77 [ Sun Jan 24, 2010 7:21 pm ]|
Khalea took the two daggers from her deal with Syjahel, and laid them on the table as she continued to clean her weapons. She continued cleaning her weapons, moving from the crossbow to her sword to the pair of wrist lades she had taken from Ghost's corpse. These she looked at carefully, experimenting with them to see how they fit, how strong they were and what degree of motion she would have while wearing them.
After finishing with her weapons Khalea ate in silence, observing her companions and the rest of the druchii in the room. When she was done she excused herself to head to bed. Before laying down for the night, she set up the two wrist blades carefully balancing the blades on each other right behind the door. This way, if anyone tried to open the door, the two blades would rattle as they fell, with enough noise to wake Khalea. It wasn't a thorough job securing the room, but Khalea was tired and just wanted to sleep. She kept her new daggers near her as she fell asleep.
Khalea will sleep, waking at dawn tommorow to go shopping.
Its probobly easier (not to mention quicker) to put what you want to buy now, that goes for everyone.)
|Author:||Syjahel [ Wed Jan 27, 2010 12:14 am ]|
The trade successfully concluded, the young noblewoman spent a short time conversing and then decided to make an early night of it. She gave little thought to the security of her room, which might have been foolish; but then if Sultra wished to rehire them, she presumed, he would not have sent them to a place merely to arrange a rather downmarket method of death. Not when the man possessed a cellar with a doorway to Hell.
After a restful night, she made her way to the markets and spent some time pondering what she might need; after a couple of hours of rather aimless wandering the only thing she decided on for certain was a new shield. Deciding that the old one should at least be kept in talismanic form - after all it and she had been through together - she took a splinter of the battered shield and took it to a jeweller to mount into a suitable pendant. The resulting effect she was after would take the form of the Druchii rune Khaladh inlaid with the wood sliver. Silver, if she could afford it; the pendant was merely symbolic of course, but one never knew when a focus for one's thoughts would be useful.
Syjahel will look for a good shield - she wants to hold some money in reserve, so she'll be going primarily for functional. The pendant is a thing she wants to have made more on a sudden desire - there are a lot of memories attached to the old shield, so she'll keep a piece of it even if the rest is wrecked.
(OOC: The necklace (if she gets it made, and I know it may take time) is a thing made for character colour, Syjahel might regard it as a talisman but it's not one in reality )
|Author:||Darkdoom [ Wed Jan 27, 2010 2:29 am ]|
Wanting to enjoy this evening got himself a bit of good wine, by far not enough to get drunk but enough to warm his belly6 and make him relax. Deciding that it might well save his life to be able to judge his crazy companion better Malus seated him self at the same table as Sinfulblade.
Enjoing the silence as much as an conversation Malus will remain silent but is open for an conversation.
At the next day Malus got up early to get all the things he wanted, but first he payed the inn for a shower of freezing cold water. Feeling alive, awake and full of energy Malus first went to a clothing store. There he got:
-2 shade cloaks ( replacing his torn one 1 spare)
-a belt bag
-some bandages (or something wich can be used as some)
Next on his list was the amory. The battel had shown him the need for an amour. So he got him self:
-a light (leather) amour (worn beneath the cloak)
-25 throwing stars
-poisen (3 150ml bottels)
Feeling well prepared for the next task Malus went to join his companions at Nobels house.
|Author:||Messiahofdeath [ Wed Jan 27, 2010 2:32 am ]|
Since Sinfulblade did not intend to buy anything and thus, the next day was free for sleeping in, the decadent trainee did what he did well to a rather extravagant level, he got drunk, got into a few small time brawls and went to sleep aiming for some much needed refreshment before the battle with the morning hangover.
OOC: Only posting to show that I’m still alive, not much to do on a shopping day when you’re saving money.
|Author:||Drainial [ Wed Jan 27, 2010 7:09 pm ]|
The exertion of the day before had hit Khalea hard, sinking into her large, warm, feather stuffed bed she resolved to get up early the next morning before drifting off into a deep sleep.
Refreshed after her hot bath and relatively relaxing night Syjahel hauled herself out of bed in a fairly good mood. Grabbing her gear and purse she set out for a little shopping.
First up, a jeweller. The highborn knew the best gemaries in the city, all of the best jewellers. Unfortunately even to get in to such places one practically had to wear gold shoes, no she would have to find a smaller place, less famous. After a little browsing she found just the thing, it was a tiny little shop down a side street. Inside the shop was impeccably clean. There were few jewels to be seen and none large, but all were perfectly cut and of the finest possible taste. The owner was a slender female, young by any standard and delicate as silver wire.
"Good morning soldier," she said somewhat quizzically Errm, the armoury is two doors down,"
Not a little irritated at being dismissed as an uncultured buffoon Syjahel looked the jeweller straight in the eye
"Thank you, but I am not looking for the armoury." the words were polite, the tone less so
"I have a job for you, a specialist item..." The haggling went on for quite some time, the jeweller perplexed as to why anyone should wish to make a talisman out of a splinter of wood torn from a battered shield. Though she did not understand she said that it was perfectly doable if the mercenary could only come back the next day.
Leaving her old shield with the jeweller Syjahel set out to find a new one. There was, as the jeweller had said, an armoury two doors down. Entering Syjahel saw row upon row of spears, racks of swords and crossbows. Blades of every type on every available surface. Oh there was nothing fancy, nothing her father would have used, nothing shaped to balance perfectly for the hand of the wielder, but it would do.
In the far corner there were shields of many sizes, shapes and designs. Under the watchful glare of a burly blacksmith she tested the feel of them on her arm and on her back. Twenty minutes later she selected the one she felt most comfortable with and took it over to the counter.
"How much for this?"
"Fifty gold," he didn't seem like much of a talker, extracting her purse from beneath her breast plate she deposited the coins on the counter and took her leave.
As was his habit Malus woke at dawn, gathering all his worldly possessions he set out to increase the set.
Right, where is going to sell decent cloaks in this place? he mused.
It took quite some time to find a decent tailor, most carried either the latest high court styles or pale imitations of them for the masses. Eventually though Malus found a shop which prised function over form. Inside most of the surface tops were filled with material yet to be made into anything, at the back though he found what he was looking for.
"Yep," the owner's assistant had been sent over to 'help' "Real Auturii craftsmanship, can't be beat for keeping you warm, or keeping you hidden.”
"I will take two,"Malus kept his sentences short, no need to encourage the boy
"Two?"the lad's eyes opened a fraction "Why would you want... hey!" The young elf yelped as he was knocked to the side by the flat of his master's hand
“Don't question the elf Yaltar, the customer is always right."
"Now run along,"
"Yes uncle," the assistant slunk of rubbing his head.
Turning back to Malus, all wide smiles and expansive gestures the merchant said
"Two shade cloaks my friend, of course. Can we help you with anything else?"
"A belt pouch," Malus all but grunted
"No problem, no problem at all!"the tailor moved in a swish of fabric and produced a sturdy leather belt pouch.
"Would you like anything else sir?" Malus considered, nothing came to mind. Then he saw behind the counter a box of linen strips of all colours and lengths. Pointing at the box he said
"How much to take what I want from that?"
"That, that is just old cut offs, take what you wish." The shade almost smiled, they would make perfectly good bandages for battle dressing, there were bound to be some of the right size.
"How much for the rest then?" Malus plonked the cloaks and pouch on the counter,
"Hmm, let’s see... Fifty for each of the cloaks, two for the pouch. Yes, one hundred and two pieces of gold, just for you my friend."
Producing his well concealed purse Malus counted out the required sum and left with his new belongings packed in a brown paper bag.
Armour next, and weapons. The city had black smiths and armourers abound, weapon manufacture was one of the cities foremost industries. Finding a decent shop on one of the lesser market squares the shade set to looking through the merchandise.
Most of the armour was too bulky by far, but one or two were fashioned from nauglir leather, supple and strong. One of them fit well enough with the straps adjusted and he took it to the counter. The owner seemed a taciturn man himself,
"Fifty gold, anything else?"
"Got any throwing stars?"
"A few, mostly knives. How many do you want?"
"Twenty five," the elf's eyes widened and he chuckled aloud
"Twenty five, you will be lucky to find twenty five shrikun in any shop around here." Not best pleased by this news Malus asked
"How many do you have?"
"Four," This was enough to test the patience of the most reserved elf
"Four! What kind of a place are you running?" he demanded
"Not much call for throwing blades really, four's what I've got, five gold apiece."
Grumbling Malus counted out yet more gold onto the counter while the blacksmith fetched the skrikun.
"Got any poison," this time the elf laughed for real
"Khaine help me, does this look like a chemists to you? No I haven't got any poison."
Disheartened and distinctly poorer than when he set out, but with at least some of what he had set out to buy in his hands Malus looked at the sky, it was time to start heading back.
Sinful woke late, with no need to venture out until his meeting with Sultra and not a few bottles of wine making the rounds through his blood stream he saw no particular reason to rise and shine. About one O'clock he trooped down stairs for a spot of lunch, it wasn't bad, a nice, quiet, relaxing afternoon.
Khalea was woken by the sound of her door unlocking, immediately her sublime torpor was lifted and she was on her feet, groping for a blade as the door swung open. Through the entrance stepped one of the slaves, dressed in grey with a linked chain colour about her neck. She was carrying a broom. At the sight of the warrior, dressed only in her underwear and with a knife in her hand standing over rumpled pillows the slave girl gave a shrill shriek.
Stomping over to the maid Khalea took her by the shoulders and shook her until she stoped screaming.
"What is the meaning of this, coming into my room unannounced at this time of the morning?" The slave looked utterly confused and bewildered
"Morning miss, not morning miss, begging your pardon miss. We... that is Mr... well the master thought you had gone out with the others. I'm so sorry miss, please don't..." the slave fell into sobs, the master was not known for taking his property's side when it came to customer complaints.
"What do you mean, not morning?" Khalea was more than a little confused herself now. Tears streaming down her face the slave looked up
"It's four in the afternoon miss."
"Four in the..." How could she have slept so long, there would be no time for shopping now, barely enough time to dress and arm in time for the meeting with Sultra.
"Right, fine, get out" she barked at the slave, all but skipping for not having been punished the grey clad maid rushed out before the mercenary changed her mind.
Locking the door once more Khalea began fishing around for her trousers.
Evening was just setting in as all four mercenaries made their way back to Sultra's tower, Sinfulblade and Khalea from the Harping Harpy, Malus and Syjahel from the city centre with their new purchases.
The group met at the end of the street, it had not been arranged but if they were all coming to the same place at the same time they might as well look like a team. The gate guards waved them in without question, clearly Sultra had sent word that they would be coming. This trust did not extend to letting them go unescorted and a guide was set to take them up to the lord's study.
Fresh and clean the climb up the stairs was not nearly so strenuous as it had been coming out of the tunnels caked in gore and bleeding from fresh wounds. They were soon deposited in the study seated as before in hard chairs before the desk.
Sultra seemed to have changed little, a slightly less elaborate robe today but the calculating gleam in his eye was unchanged, as was the force of his presence.
"So, you all decided to return, excellent. Now I told you that I had a 'bigger fish to fry,' and so I do." Sultra laced his fingers together and leaned forward slightly on his desk.
"The thing is you see, my daughter has been kidnapped. She is a sweet little girl, twenty two years old, far too young to be caught up in the feuds of houses. And yet that is precisely what I fear has become of her.
"I have many enemies, who doesn't. Yesterday I could not tell you where to start looking because I didn't know myself. But my sources are now quite clear, I believe that she has been taken by Lady Tachar of the house Dalver. I want you to get her back for me. Succeed in this and you shall each receive five hundred gold, fail and I advise you to make quite sure that it is because you are already dead."
Sultra reached under his desk and apparently pressed a button or leaver of some sort because seconds later the door was opened to admit a large, muscular elf, armed and armoured like a warrior, armour black and shining silver.
"This," Sultra said, gesturing to the new comer "is Ildren Vrak'nair, he has been part of my garrison for a few months, but I think he would be better suited to this kind of work, he will be going with you." Ildren Walked into the room and took his place at the empty chair which had once waited for Ghost.
"So," Sultra settled back into his chair "Any questions?"
Mythic, sorry about this but if I don't know what you want I can't supply it and its time to move on with the story, I will try and find a convenient time for another free day relatively soon. Darkdoom the limit on throwing stars is four (it’s in the rules listings) and I don’t think your average armourer would have a stock of poisen. Ildren is Soulsmith's character and is joining to replace Ghost, I hope you will all welcome him into the group.
The next deadline is 12 midnight 30th jan
|Author:||Darkdoom [ Fri Jan 29, 2010 5:58 am ]|
Though his shopping did not go as well as he had hoped Malus still felt pretty ready. Joining the others in Slutras office Malus, sat down and started to play with his stars underneath his cloak. Not just for the sake of it but also to be able to within the blink of an eye, after all he was in a room full of darkelfs and as an autarii he was naturally precautious. Off all the people in the room he trusted his companions the most. They were just the people less likely to try and kill him and succeed.
Listening their next assignment he frond subconsciously. Last thing he wanted was to be sucked in the conflicts of nobles. And as far as he could tell they might as well be capturing a hostage as freeing one, thinking about it he actually thought that more likely! His mood lightened however as he heard about their payment. 500 gold was quite a handsome sum and
he would have a good use for it.
On the other hand the gold was off no use for him once he was dead. And of course there was the question of Sultras trust worthiness.
But as this was a mission of stealth so he thought himself likely to survive though he thought he’d probably have to leave some off the other to the guards. It was probably good if they’d die anyway, they were too close to him.
Sultra closed with: "So, any questions?"
By this time Malus had decided to accept the mission, but he’d leave it to his companions to ask questions, settling back in his seat and observing.
OCC:No problem with the shopping. Forgott the rule and just thought I could give the poisen a shot and it fit's to Malus character.
|Author:||Syjahel [ Sat Jan 30, 2010 4:34 am ]|
The trouble with Sultra was his station and longevity. The young noblewoman couldn't fault the older Elf for his survival tactics, nor how he played the game. It was the combination of this - his ruthless ability to use others for his own ends - and the fact that he had survived long enough to be convinced of his own invincibility that irked her so. One like that just shouldn't be so secure in his tenure when he was also charismatic and aggravating in equal measure. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to learn from an obvious master of the political game or stab him in the throat from one minute to the next. Of course, the one would naturally lead to the other. All in good time.
She allowed herself to be take up to the office again, carefully observing what she could of the coming and going of servants and guards, and the entrances, exits and fields of fire. Second nature to a warrior, and as useful in highborn diplomacy. Syjahel scarcely realised that she was doing it.
The room was laid out in exactly the same way, so far as she could tell, with a spare seat. Either he was making some subtle point about Ghost and what happens to those who fail, or he hadn't got round to having his seat cleared. Syjahel didn't believe that for a second. And Ghost, she mused, hadn't been unskilled; just unlucky.
So, this time it was a higher paid job. One for higher risk, of course, and with about as much chance of success as the last one and even less chance of backup. It did not sound a likely prospect. If he really had allowed the little girl - who was, apparently, the light of his life - to be taken by a political rival, he was either incautious or he'd made a dire misstep indeed. She noted too that a young daughter (if such she was) meant either a wife or a favoured concubine, quite likely still in his household. It was all information - or perhaps speculation, but not unreasonable.
Under all this, there was a tiny part, well-hidden within the obsidian heart of the noblewoman, that recognised the scene in ways she could not have told even the most skilled torturer for she did not see them for what they were herself. She'd been (still was, in many ways) the darling of the family, her father's sweet little girl, the last child of his beloved wife. It touched a chord that, if it was unrecognised, nevertheless stirred some echo in her. She'd take the job and bring the child home. There were a dozen politically sound reasons that she _could_ recognise, after all.
She looked around at the group. They were somewhat tried in battle now, and she knew something of the style of each. When Sultra brought in a newcomer to make up the numbers, she assessed him with the eye of one used to looking over troops for the battlefield: competent, well-armed, fit for duty. A sign both good and bad. This was a mission doomed to fail if they took it head-on. She hoped that the new warrior was capable of subtlety, for surely the Trainee of Khaine wasn't. She gave Ildren another appraising look and a brief smile of welcome. There was a keen light of intelligence in his grey eyes, and the sharply-filed teeth gave him a predatory air. Hmm ... a little more heavy-set than she usually favoured, but at least this one didn't sit muttering to himself and giggling.
With a firm, sure voice, she addressed the Lord,
"Yes. We will need to have some idea of the relative strengths of the household garrison, if the lady has sorcery at her disposal, how her compound is laid out and if there are any feasible clandestine ways to access it. If you are lacking in this information, I would suggest that either we be given time to gather it, or since time is of the essence, that you deploy any more specialist agents you may have that would be able to get it swiftly."
"My Lord no doubt has his reasons for keeping his counsel on the whys and wherefores of this act, but if we know anything more ... specific ... of why she has taken your daughter, then we will be better able to refute any suggestions that the Lady Tachar may make to the contrary should it come to an unfortunate meeting with any of her household ... some way that we can recognise the girl would be useful too. I should hate to bring you the wrong little girl, Sultra."
Syjahel will wait for any replies and give the others a chance to voice any thoughts they may care to before continuing if that seems appropriate. She doesn't want to walk into this blind. She considers that Sultra is making them ask for information as much so that he can study what they do and don't ask for, and how their group dynamic works, as he is using it to feed them information. It's what she'd do.
OOC: Welcome, Ildren I hope you'll enjoy it here and look forward to playing with you.
... Just to be clear, all this poking at Sinfulblade is IC, I think the Blue One is interesting
|Author:||Messiahofdeath [ Sat Jan 30, 2010 11:58 am ]|
And yet again Sinfulblade found himself sitting in the throne room of his employer, the pomposity marked interior doing as much as the way the mercenaries were seated in respect to Sultra to enhance the grandiose image of power that the old highborn emitted. Impressive it was, and Sinful tired desperately to be awe struck by it, however, his mind was no simple tool to play with using such blatant tricks. Not that he had much experience when dealing with highborns, it was because of the fact that keeping his mind occupied with simple aspects of the psyche like respect and fear demanded too much attention and was frankly tiresome and boring. No mistake should be made, Sinful WANTED to be scared and inspired by the power Sultra had laid out before him, power he could shift with the simple motion of his fingertips, but it was just to manual a task to keep constantly reminding himself to fear a man of his stature. It was just plain unbearable.
Unwillingly the teal trainee yawned in an audible fashion as Sultra began speaking of the mission, once again the kahainate wasn’t paying attention and since his yawn resonated at the same time as his employer was talking about his missing daughter a few looks were thrown at Sinful from the patrons of the room. Woken up by this, the trainee looked around a bit confused and nodded his head a few times in an off-hand apology before he forced himself to tune in on the information that was given to the mercenaries. The trainee went so far as to lean forward in his chair slightly quite an uncharacteristic action, by the usually aloof elf.
The information given to them was rather scarce when talking about something as valuable it may seem as the daughter of nobility, yet Sultra had shown before that he found little need to brief the mercenaries, relying on the age old principle of mercenaries being nothing more than expandable lakies., albeit this time making it a bit more interesting by threatening them if they so think of failing him on this mission. The threatening made Sinful chuckle as he shook his head and afterwards nodded once more.
“Riling up your troops for battle, is one of your specialties, oh your reclusive nobleness. However, I am puzzled by an enigma of sorts. Another noble house has taken something valuable from you; I would take it be so, since you are asking us to retrieve the fair maiden. Thus my question is as follows: if you have been wronged by someone foolish to challenge your…”
Sinful made a few dramatic and theatrical hand gestures to give more weight to his words.
“…undoubtedly limitless power, why are you sending us and not marching your regular army against the foolish cretin? Or is it so, that the other house matches if not surpasses your power? In that case, how did you make sure that someone as untrustworthy as a bunch of miscreants does not shift sides? Best to be on the winning side after all. Or is the new guy supposed to be the one making sure we’re not a bunch of turncoats?”
Tilting his head to the side Sinful grinned widely as he sifted in his seat eagerly waiting for his lord to answer, for some obscure reason he was filled with enthusiasm to the point of barely controlling his hands which were clenching and releasing thin air in quick powerful grips.
Sinful will dismiss any information that is not directly linked to his question as that is the only thing that is interesting for him now
|Author:||Darkdoom [ Sat Jan 30, 2010 12:20 pm ]|
Listening to Syjahel he realized that he not even noticed the "new guy". For sure he was Sultras idea of controling them and as the nobel was not stupide he would cerainly be a pain and an obstacal to him, especially as killing him would threaten his 500 gold....
Sinfullblad on the other hand was a whole different story. He was annoing him and Siltras probably as well. Maybe if he'd kill him now he'd even get something for it. He long to try out his new stars and it would most certainly make diplomatic easier, now and in the future. It would only take him a moment to throw all the stars in the unmoving budie only a few feet away. oh, how he'd enjoy it to see the teal elf winding on the floor in his own blood and then to sink his blade in him looking in his angry and shoked eyes. He doubted that any of the others would come to sinfuls help.
In the end never the less he decided against it, not out of pity, companion ship or because of any moral, thus unknown to him, reasons, but out of a practical idea. Sinfulblad and his frenzy would make a good divertion on their mission, in which he'd probably die. So there was n o reason to make his blades dirty.
|Author:||Drainial [ Sat Jan 30, 2010 4:42 pm ]|
After it became apparent that everyone had said their piece Sultra sat forward once more.
"I could fob you off Khainite with and imperious tone and a warning to leave the affairs of the noble houses to your betters, but as you ask there are several good reasons why I am not sending my garrison into the field.
"First Lady Tachar does indeed have a formidable force at her disposal and victory would be certain for neither side. Second the Drachau is less than keen on major civil disorder and a house war certainly falls into that category, I have no desire to find myself besieged by the city watch. Finally even if I could persuade the Drachau that my cause was proper and utterly crushed the armies of house Dalvar it would not get me my daughter back, she would be killed long before my troops reached her.
"As for the matter of your allegiance, I doubt that it will be a problem. Consider this, I am paying you for services rendered, Tachar upon hearing the news that you bring would doubtless torture you for information on me and then have you killed, if you are stupid enough to allow that to happen willingly then she is more than welcome to have you."
With that he turned to Syjahel
"On to practical matters then. House Dalvar's family home is an estate on the very edges of the city, to the south it is bordered by woodland. As you get closer in you will find a wall, after said wall the woods become more decorative and ordered but are thick enough still. I would recommend this as an avenue of approach as it is less heavily guarded than the northern main entrance.
"As to the strength of the garrison it is substantial but not huge, in the tower grounds itself according to the best estimates of my sources there are approximately three hundred warriors. The majority of these troops are housed within a barracks building to the south east of the tower proper but expect regular patrols.
"Lady Tachar has no more contact with the convents than is usual for a noble house, which is not to say that there may not be traps and defences of a magical nature, that said to the best of my knowledge she has no sorceresses on staff." For the first time Sultra allowed a tiny fraction of the loss he felt to enter his eyes, albeit unwillingly
"As to why Naylia was taken I cannot yet say, though I do not doubt that if she is not returned I shall find out in time."
Breaking off for a moment Sultra opened one of the desk draws and took out a leather bound ledger, seeming to forget the mercenaries for a moment she flicked through it until he found what he was looking for.
"Ah," he sighed, "here we are," Sultra took something from the ledger and laid it on the table. It was small, flat, and made of paper. Picking it up Sultra showed it to the group. It was a miniature portrait of a young girl of seemingly luminescent beauty, artistic licence aside the child appeared to be perfect. Almost too perfect, like a porcelain doll.
"This is the most recent portrait I have of her, it was done about six months ago so it should be accurate enough for your purposes. Anything else? Oh, one more thing. the lord reached into another draw and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment.
"This is a detailed map of southern Vikrha, it shows both this estate and the Dalvar estate quite clearly so you should have no trouble in finding it. If there is nothing else to be said I suggest that you start off immediately.
Ok so you now have a map of southern Vikrah and a portrait of the girl, SoulSmith has unfortunately had to drop out so I will be controlling his character until we reach a convenient time to lose him (it was that or a spontaneous heart attack). If you have any more questions ask away, if not then off your trot.
Deadline is set for 12 midnight Feb 4th
|Author:||Mythic77 [ Tue Feb 02, 2010 10:46 pm ]|
Khalea listened to what the druchii noble had to say, not feeling the need to interject herself at any point. She was fine with listening in and picking apart what the lord told them while Syjahel was doing the talking. She had experience with the druchii nobility subtle warfare, unfortunately from the losing side, and Khalea remembered her flight.
However Khalea had long ago dealt with her past and she focused on the present. Despite their employers protestations, betrayal was always an option in the schemes of the upper class. it was all a matter of which side would pay her more, and more likely, let her survive. Sultra had already shown a willingness to sacrifice them, and the only thing keeping Khalea from thinking of it as a betrayal was the fact that the lord had never promised them anything other than the gold. Then again, that was all the lord was promising them this time.
Khalea will have no problem leaving now, however she will wait and see if the others have any questions.
OOC: No problem with the shopping, it wasn't that important anyway. I had a list somewhere earlier but it was several posts back so... now i am rich.
|Author:||Darkdoom [ Thu Feb 04, 2010 9:53 am ]|
With out waiting for any other question Malus stood up impatient to get going.
Once they are outside the building he'll suggest to first move to the forest and than through the forest to the manor.
Being a shade he'll scout ahead and watch out for anyone unlucky enough to be in their way. Hiding in the shadows he'll try out his stars at the first person they meet (even if it's just a civilian).
|Author:||Syjahel [ Fri Feb 05, 2010 12:37 am ]|
Taking the picture and map handed to them, for she guessed the rest would be unwilling (in various ways, and for varied reasons), the younger noble glanced around at the rest of her group. As usual, no-one had much to say, at least, not with words. And not in comparison to Sultra, who had been unusually forthcoming. She had spared a look of mild surprise when Sinfulblade spoke; the points he had raised had been good ones, but though Sultra had responded it seemed that their briefing was now over.
Once outside, Malus suggested a plan that was elegant in its simplicity and and had the benefit, so far as Syjahel was concerned, of making good use of the Shade's powers in his natural setting. Of course, there should be fewer monsters in a city noble's grounds than in the Autarii wildlands, but who knew what other arrangements might have been made? She could think of no better opening for their mission, and so she assented to his. Best to keep it simple when there were three hundred guards to avoid. She vowed to herself to keep a sharp eye out for trouble, hoping that her new Shade cloak would bring her more luck than it had its previous owner.
Syjahel will go with Malus' plan to get started and head for the woods. No sense in wasting time if we have a plan ...
|Author:||Messiahofdeath [ Fri Feb 05, 2010 11:19 am ]|
Leaning back in his seat Sinfulblade sighed loudly as Sultra completed his reply.
“The politics of the noble houses always seem to amaze me, such intricate possibilities and yet you always pick the boring road”
Looking around the teal elf made sure everyone else is ready to go, before he stood and nodded to his employer following the group out.
OOC: A short one, but I don’t really see what else to add. Oh and by the way, you really missed out on the spontaneous heart-attack possibility, there is nothing better than a deus ex machina to start an adventure
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