What is all this row about? demanded General Darwin as he stepped out into the cobbled courtyard, a dull green robe hastily pulled on over his muscular frame and a terrible frown across his scarred face. The night sky above was a deep shade of blue that stood still above the flickering torches and lanterns that the crowd gathered held in hand.
Its murder, my lord! exclaimed one of the servants, his finger shaking as he pointed across the courtyard toward the center of the castle. Hes dead, the king is dead! Murder!
The general uttered a low oath, then turned to the armored soldier that came up to him. Alert the castle guard at once! We must find the one responsible for this foul deed.
Sir, I have news from the gate sentries. They just let past Lord Eygar, who claimed to have urgent business to attend to.
The witness cried out, Then thats whose dagger it was! I thought I recognized the green jeweled hilt of it, the only one with such a dagger is Lord Eygar, the kings advisor!
We must not jump too readily to conclusions, cautioned General Darwin as he stood, his strong baritone sounding out around the darkened courtyard with the authority he carried on his strong shoulders. He may not be the one whose hand has wrought against King Calefax. But we must be wise and bring him back just the same in case his heart has turned to treachery against the throne.
Should I take my men to give chase, sir? asked the soldier.
At once. I shall take charge of the castle and discover the details of this fiendish work. Ride swiftly, and fear not to lay hands on the man should he resist; if he is innocent, he will have no need to fear from you. Make haste!
The soldier bowed his head ever so briefly in a formal gesture before dashing off to his duty. General Darwin reached up and tugged ever so gently at the one silver band that he wore in his left earlobe, a treasure obtained in some foreign campaign years ago. By my blood, we shall get to the bottom of this!
-------
Eygar stumbled hurriedly through the darkened forest, his long blond hair gathered into a knot at the base of his neck and trailing behind him like a ponys tail. Under his gray traveling cloak hung the red leather belt he prized, with the finely-decorated sheath bumping against his leg as if to remind him of the lack of the weapon meant for it.
I know I did not murder the king, he thought desperately. I woke up to see the bloody weapon in my hands and the king dead in his slumber, yet I did not deal the striking blow. There is treachery afoot, and I am no traitor.
The cry of murder from the loyal servants still rang hollow in his ears, and he knew that whatever the cause, he had just been implicated in the highest form of villainy. He could not even spend the time to mourn his childhood friend, King Andrew Calefax, finest of his line in a long line of monarchs who led the Kingdom of Calefax to victory time and time again over invading forces. There was only the desperate need now to escape, to find someone he could trust to hide with until he could put the puzzle pieces together and reveal the one behind this monstrous plot.
And with the princess on her return home from traveling abroad, just what will she do when she finds her father buried and gone?
The idle, random thought distracted him in the darkness, and he cried out as he stumbled over a thick tree root. He crashed to the ground, the breath knocked out of him, and for a few moments he laid there to catch his breath through the dull pain in his chest. The smell of the bark and dirt, moist with nights dew, reached his nostrils. Darkness clung like an indistinct leech, and all around the noises of night reached his ears; the chirping of the crickets, the hooting of an owl, and a low howl of wolves from afar off
I must indeed be a fool for running about in the dark like a madman, he chided himself as he pushed himself up to his feet, closing his eyes to the night as he swept his fears away like cobwebs from his mind. He brought up one hand in front of him, his thumb and two fingers pointed up while his others curled against his sweaty palm. Luna, sprite of the moon, bring your sisters light to my hand to carve sight through gloom.
His fingers uncurled and he held out his hand, palm upward, and opened his eyes as a sphere of soft blue-tinted light glowed into existence between his fingers. His pale features seemed more so in this light, and the light created shadows behind his high cheekbones and nearly pointed ears. He held up the hand, the glittering ball of moonlight hovering near the hand at all times. There we are. Now perhaps we can-
A fierce growl from one side froze his blood, and he threw himself to one side in time to avoid the fangs of the wolf that had leapt for his throat. Holding the light up high and glancing about the shady woodland, Eygar found himself surrounded by a pack of savage wolves, who snarled threateningly as they began to close in.
As if to mock him, only now did he see the distant lights from a village in the distance through the leafy grove. He had been this close to it but had been so preoccupied by his worries that he had not paid attention.
Oh dear, he said to himself with a strange sense of calmness as he backed himself up against the sturdy trunk of a tree so at least he could not be attacked from behind. When it rains, it certainly does pour.
* * *
The wooden wheels chattered against the ground as the horses drawing the carriage sped along the dirt road, silver moonlight showing the trodden path before. The carriage itself was made of sturdy oaken wood with a thin coat of simple green paint, with four horses of different colors of brown and black pulling the vehicle along. A hunchbacked old man sat on top of the carriage, his wrinkled hands at the reins. He glanced about to either side with his squinty eyes, the ends of his long gray mustache drooping as he considered the two square-shouldered men who rode on horseback alongside the carriage. They were young and well-built, and had the excited gleam of heroism in their eyes that their hardened leather armor could not hide, nor their wide-brimmed hats.
Hopefully they wont lose that spirit too quickly when we run into real action, thought the old man to himself as he rubbed the smooth shape of his shaven head. And better still, that they dont forget our mission and get themselves killed. The princess must arrive safely at Calefax
An arrow whizzed past his ear and stuck itself into a nearby tree, quivering where it stood. The two young men reached for their swords, but no amount of swiftness could make up for the sudden attack sprung from both sides of the road. They were surrounded by a number of grizzled men and women, wearing masks and cloaks and other roughshod disguises that marked them as bandits. Steel gleamed in their hands, and there were more of them just within the trees and shadow.
The old mans attention became sharply drawn to a figure who stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight toward the carriage. It was a deeply-tanned man whose eyes and teeth shone out from his face as if they had light of their own. A spiky mess of golden hair adorned his head, giving him a birdlike appearance though he was tall and muscular. His heavy boots thumped against the ground as he approached, and a slight breeze rustled the brown vest and trousers that he wore, rattling the chains and straps that hung about his belt.
The man flashed a haughty grin upward to the top of the carriage. Hail there, old man! Youve been around long enough to know how things are, so lets just cut through the polite stuff and just hand over all your loot.
The old man nodded, slowly. I am Norton. May I know whom is the leader of this band of ruffians and rapscallions?
The tanned man threw out his arms and looked about to his fellows with a comical grin, who all snickered and laughed at this dramatic gesture. Why, youre talkin to him right now! he answered, his voice rough and strong like himself. Kinkaid Kicklighter, at your disservice!
And are you not a mercenary for hire? Why strike with thieves and vagabonds when you can earn so much more on your own?
Kinkaid spat at the ground, then grinned again. Im flattered youve heard of me! Means also you probably can guess that were not really your regular-type thieves and vagabonds as you put it. Also means you know what were really after.
The two swordsmen on either side of the carriage started to advance slowly forward, but Norton shouted, Hold your ground! You do no service by getting yourselves killed!
Right you are, old man! chipped in Kinkaid as he shrugged. After all, wouldnt want anyone to getHURT!
With dramatic timing, suddenly a burst of flame shot up around Kinkaid, and his eyes glowed red-hot until they were filled with fire. One of the swordsmen exclaimed, A blitzkinder!
Thats right, soothed Kinkaid as he let the fire die back down as he stepped forward in a relaxed, confident manner that showed he had no fear. So just sit back and lets take a look at the princess before we all get going together to Torasville, awright?
Norton stiffened as Kinkaid reached for the door of the carriage. A stormkinder, eh? The ones after Her Highness must be getting desperate now to resort to such measures.
Okay, lets just open this up and
There was a pause, and Norton braced himself. Well he did, for suddenly the entire carriage shook from the ferocious punch that Kinkaid laid to it. WHAT?! he screeched, the gravelly voice filled with foul rage. Where is the princess?!
Likely far away from here, taking an alternate route to the castle even as we speak, said Norton calmly, noting with a grim satisfaction that the rest of the mercenaries were looking to each other with sudden uncertainty. She insisted on it after your sponsor nearly hijacked us at Cartoom. You have sprung a magnificent trap on an old man and two young lads.
Kinkaids livid anger showed itself in a blaze of light as he fired himself up once again, stomping away from the carriage. Tricked! The princess pickpocketed herself away! Now I wont get paid
The fire rippling around his form died out again, and he turned, all fury and rage suddenly replaced with that coarse friendliness with the speed of an arrow. Well boys, what are we waiting for? Well take these three as bait for the princess! Who knows, maybe if we hit them enough times theyll tell us which way that wench went so as to save us the trouble! Lets do this!
The bandit troupe surrounded the carriage, and with a gesture Kinkaid led the way with massive strides in front of the carriage. Two thugs forced the young soldiers from their horses and into the carriage to prevent them from any daring last-second heroics.
Stars watch over you, Your Highness, thought Norton. And may the way be lighted by Lumina and Luna both.
OOC: The setting is a fantasy/medieval one. There is magic, which usually is accomplished with whatever mystic words that you wish to use to create that mystic aura that magic users inspire this creates a limitation that will prevent magic from being used too quickly to be useful in many combat situations. Blitzkinder are the offspring of a human and an elemental spirit, Kinkaid being an example of a fire elemental blitzkinder. You may join directly into the scenarios currently presented, or you may start out with your character in a different location.
Ive specifically kept details on Princess Calefax vague, including her first name, so that someone can join using her as a character. You can play her as the spoiled-rotten brat or the talented yet self-doubting type, or whatever else you might imagine for her. You may also choose to be any of the unnamed knights, soldiers, mercenaries or other characters in any of the scenes.
For species, you can see that most of the characters thus far have been human (or at least close to it), but you can certainly choose other races, like elves, wolf men, or whatever you can think of. The primary limitation is that your characters have to be humanoid and human-sized or smaller this means no dragons or other unusually-sized or shaped critters or monsters.
Here are some simple character profiles of the major NPCs/characters that have been featured so far:
Name: General Darwin
Age: 42
Species: Human
Appearance: Muscular, stocky man with battle scars across his body. Lantern jaw, wears a silver earring in his left ear. Has short jet black hair, and dark brown eyes.
Personality: General Darwin is an organizer, a tactician and a soldier without peer. He is known for his prowess in battle, but his coldness has earned him a reputation of contempt in the royal court among the ladies. His flaws are made up for in the number of campaigns he has successfully waged in the defense of Calefax, and he is sternly proud of the honor this has earned him.
Brief History: Darwins family always has served in the military, so it made sense that Darwin should join the royal knights. Though abused by his father, Darwins tactical genius showed early on and earned him his own command at the youngest age of any commander. His life became war, and this has permeated his existence; without conflict, he is ill at ease. He served in many foreign campaigns against other countries to prevent invasions of Calefax, and he became the general five years prior. He has served the crown loyally, but he has at times disobeyed royal commands in favor of winning a particular battle or fortress.
Name: Eygar
Age: 27
Species: Human (perhaps with some Elvish heritage)
Appearance: Slender pale-skinned man with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Green eyes as deep as a forest, with high cheekbones and with nearly pointed ears.
Personality: A calm, rational individual, Eygar is generally slow to be excited or angered by regular circumstances, though he does become flustered easily when things become dramatic. His ability to think clearly and logically has earned him his place as a royal advisor of the Kingdom of Calefax. His personality has made him well-suited to the arduous task of memorization and meditation required to master a variety of spells that draw upon the power of nature. He does prefer the comforts of the royal court, but he will reluctantly settle for less.
Brief History: Eygar came from another country, one where magic came more naturally to the inhabitants. In the somewhat less magical but nevertheless flourishing country of Calefax, he was able to attract attention from the royal family and became apprenticed to the court wizard. He soon surpassed his master, and he became not only the teacher of magic in the royal court, but he also advised the king on matters requiring finesse and logic. His calm wisdom has aided the Calefax royal family for years, and he is practically a household word in the kingdom.
Name: Kinkaid Kicklighter
Age: 20
Species: Blitzkinder (Fire)
Appearance: Tall and muscular, deeply-tanned with spiky blond hair and amber-colored eyes. A broad face with an easy grin and semi-large nose. Typically wears minimal shirts and vests with baggy pants and sturdy leather boots.
Personality: Kinkaid is a rowdy, a rough-around-the-edges type who is outgoing and unafraid to talk to anyone of any station with the same gruff language. He can be quite hospitable when hes in a good mood, but his feelings can shift from warm to blazing in the flicker of a candles light as his temper is legendarily short. He is a mercenary because he enjoys the challenge and it allows him to make the best use of his strength and his heritage as a blitzkinder. Comfortable in almost any sort of company, he is unpredictable and will often join the side that he views as having the most fun.
Brief History: Being a blitzkinder is a difficult task growing up, especially when control of powers doesnt come easy in the least bit to a fiery-tempered youth. His father was a fire elemental, and left his human mother shortly after his birth, so he was never able to have his guidance as he grew up. Yet despite the persecution that attended his life, he actually enjoyed the notoriety and encouraged it. He naturally fell into the wrong crowd because he felt they lived life because they wanted to, not because of any loyalty or duty. Becoming a mercenary for the pay and excitement soon became the next logical step, and he furthered his reputation as a ferocious fighter who would take on any jobif he thought it would be fun. Hes also gained a reputation for being inconsistent, and only the spectacular results of when he does do the job right prevents him from being out of business.
And heres a blank form for you to use; you may use it or any profile you like, but please post your profile at the end of your first post so we can have it available to read in this thread.
Name:
Age:
Species:
Appearance:
Personality:
Brief History:
Play on!
OOC: Sure, why not? I got sidetracked from Rico's RP and need a new one? >_> And medieval is fun! n_n
Name: Malachor Redfang
Age: 21
Species: Wolfen
Appearance: A Wolfen, just a little over human size, with grey fur covering his body. He wears a red cloak which billows around his body, and chainmail armour which protects his torso, front and back. His tail is long, thick and bushy, white a white tip on the end. He wears a black eye patch over his left eye, with a scar going down along the left side of his face. A longsword is concealed beneath his cloak, hilted on the left side of his body. A belt wraps around his chest, going over his shoulder and over the cloak, and has a bow and a bag of arrows attached on his back.
Personality: Malachor is a bit of a roughneck, as he takes on risky assignments, usually for the thrill. He gives himself too much credit, thinking he's great, when he's only good. Sometimes he'll get lucky, and he seems to have an infinite amount of luck, escaping death by a thread on numerous occasions, which backs up his claims of being great. He's a bit of a drinker, carrying around a flask of whiskey, but he doesn't let his alcoholism affect him in battle. Malachor also loves a challenge, the harder it is the more likely he is to do it, and he loves to gamble. All of these quirks in his personality can also lead to his downfall. He is also deathly afraid of magic. He doesn't take it well with racism, because of the fact that he's a Wolfen, and doesn't like to be discriminated against.
Brief History: Malachor hails from a neighboring country, the Wolfen Empire, where he was raised by his father to be a soldier, but he wasn't quite cut out for it, and instead turned to the life of being a free lance mercenary, giving himself the title of "Lone Wolf". He had been trained in combat, wielding a sword, and how to use a bow. Malachor worked several jobs, and has only failed at a few, but this is his first assignment which is so important: Guarding Princess Calefax. He was asked to partake in this mission at the location the Princess and her guard had been at their previous location. Lucky for him he was passing through at the time.
IC:
The Wolfen lead ahead of the Princess and the group, several meters ahead. He was the scout, as with his strong sense of smell, and his animalistic instincts, he could detect an enemy approaching.
He turned to look back of his shoulder. "Come on," he'd say, and raised an arm, gesturing for the others, "the way ahead is safe."
He was a beast to look at, and he knew humans looked down upon him because of what he was. But he didn't care, he looked own on them just the same. To him, Wolfen were the superior species.
A grin crept along his features. After this mission was over, he'd been bathing in gold for the rest of his life. He was determined to complete it. He grinned, his white, razor-sharp teeth flashing as he moveed on ahead.
- OOC -
This sounds awesome!
- PROFILE -
Name: Duran Kendi
Age: 29
Species: Human
Appearance: Dark, brown skin. Thin and of average strength. He is often seen wearing black. When out and about, a dark hood hides his face and a long, black cloak is strewn about his neck. He prefers for his movements to be silent, so aside from his longsword, longbow and vital supplies, he carriers as little as possible.
Personality: He's calm and rational, but has very quick reactions. A thief for the most-part, he prefers to steal "for the greater good", or if he's hungry and doesn't feel like paying. He tries to preserve life as often as possible, but will take or sacrifice life if it can save his own. He tries to stay private, so nobody that catches him stealing can recognize him, and so he can work private jobs.
Brief History: Born and raised in Calefax, he moves from town to town every month or so for new faces, or "fresh targets", and so nobody gets wise to him repeatedly picking their pockets.
- IC -
Duran silently stepped over a branch. His foot landed on a leaf, but his foot landed so softly, he made not a sound. His eyes scanned the trees. In one hand, he held his sword at the ready. In the other, he held a metal ball.
Come out, come out, come out, wolfies... he thought as he continued his trek. He was, indeed, hunting wolves. But he had no intentions of slaying them, as long as he could afford it.
He spotted a faint glow through the forest. It was bluish-white, but he couldn't see anything around it. Wolves certainly don't make light, thought Duran as he hurried forward.
What he came upon had truly surprised him. A blonde man in royal clothing was backed against a tree. The man held out his hand, as if to hold up the light floating above it. The man was surrounded by a half-dozen wolves.
"When it rains, it certainly does poor," the man muttered. For a moment, the man against the tree waited. The wolves waited. Duran tried to figure out what was going on.
Then, a wolf leaped forward to strike. Quickly, Duran threw his metal ball at the wolf. The ball struck the wolf in its side, distracting it long enough for the blonde man to move aside as the wolf landed headfirst into the tree.
The wolf looked as if it was going to strike again, but the metal ball caught its attention as it hissed and began spewing a purple smoke.
The blonde man covered his face and coughed as the smoke spread through the opening. Duran's mask deflected the smoke long enough for it to dissipate before it could break through.
The wolves' long snouts, however, inhaled the gases in full. The wolves suddenly fell over, limp and unconscious.
The smoke quickly cleared. The blonde man examined his surroundings in surprise.
"Hold!" Duran called. He stepped from the shadows of the trees, sheathing his sword and holding his hands up in a sign of peace. "I mean you no harm, sir."
The blonde man whiped his brow. "Well, thank you, uh... What might be your name?" he asked.
"Duran," replied Duran. "And yours?"
"Eygar," said the blonde man slowly. Deep thoughts seemed to have a strong hold of his mind, and they weren't about wolves. The man shook his head, and looked at Duran. "What were you doing out here so late to come at such a convenient time?"
"Well, I'm hunting wolves," said Duran. "The wolves have become excessively aggressive as of late, and have been troubling farmers near the forest. They've even gone so far as the village outskirts to attack travellers. The villagers are willing to pay quite the coin for anyone who can get rid of any number of wolves."
Eygar nodded. "Mind telling me what that smoke was supposed to be?"
"Well, there's a man in the village by the name of Augustus that says he's 'advacing technology into the future' or some such. He calls what you just saw there a knockout bomb. I toned down the amount of gas so it wouldn't affect me, and it will only affect the wolves for a little while. I plan on capturing the whole lot of these and taking them to the villagers for my pay, as they're worth more alive."
"Capture? What, do you have cages or something? What would the farmers want with them?"
"Yes, cages, just outside the forest, maybe a quarter mile from here. The wolves should be out for an hour at least. I'd assume the farmers will either kill the wolves or sell them to the zoo, maybe even a rich noble that likes 'exotic pets'... It's really none of my concern."
There was a pause between them. Eygar's interest in the conversation seemed to fade. Then, something occured to Duran. "What are you doing out here in the forest, Eygar? Did I ruin a game of yours with those wolves?"
Name: Rynard Lightkeeper
Age: 31
Species: Human
Appearance: A man of only average height, but with enormous shoulders and arms like tree trunks. While travelling, he wears a blue-and-white robe over a suit of chainmail, his face eternally hidden behind the steel mask on his helmet, only occasionally exposing his piercing blue eyes.
Personality: As a monk, Rynard has a very serious personality, rarely smiling, and has never been known to laugh. As well, he is very pious and has a strong sense of justice.
Brief History: Rynard hails from a foreign land, where he is a templar in the high church of Boeldel, the creator god. While on a diplomatic mission to Calefax escorting the High Exalted Priest, his entourage was waylaid by a small army of assailants, and all the other templars killed, and the High Priest taken hostage. Rynard was left alive only to send a message of ransom back to his homeland, but has now embarked on a personal journey to rescue the High Priest himself.
===
Rynard awoke to find himself lying on his back in the darkness, gazing up at the stars which were obscured by smoke curling up from a fire nearby. Feeling heat on his cheek, he turned his head to see the High Priest's carriage overturned, ablaze in an glowing inferno that lit the ground just enough for Rynard to witness the carnage that lay about him.
His fellow Templars had been slaughtered, their bodies littering the ground as though they had all been thrown aside by some giant like they were nothing more than mere beetles. It was then Rynard remembered the scene that had unfolded--how long ago now? The entourage had been attacked by what had seemed like an endless amount of attackers, and they had been no mere bandits- they had slaughtered the finest knights in all of Darran like they were novices, unleashing fearfome magic spells that were like nothing anyone present had ever seen before.
Rufus, Callaghan, Elydar- could they all really be dead? It was only after Rynard had taken a step forward that he noticed, pinned to the ground by a dagger, a piece of paper that was beginning to char in the intense heat from the burning carriage a few feet away.
Templar of Boeldel,
We have taken your High Priest captive. If your homeland wishes him returned, they are to turn the holy treasures over to us. Return to this land within 100 days. We will find you.
Bring no one.
Rynard read the note over several times before touching it to the flames and holding it as it burned into ashes in his hands. Cursing the sky, tears welling in his eyes, Rynard toiled all night to bury the bodies of his fallen friends and said a prayer over their graves at sunup. Facing east, he headed off in the direction he had been travelling, his helmet once again encircling his head and hiding his face from the world. He had no idea of how, or where, but he would find the people responsible for this and, if necessary, kill them all in the name of Boeldel.
-----
Suddenly, the Princess' group ground to a halt. Someone at the back demanded to know the explanation, and this question was passed along until it reached the figure at the front, a humanoid with wolf-like features, who stood staring with a puzzled expression at the man who had stepped into their path. He was of average height, but appeared to be built out of stone rather than flesh, and wore a helmet with a mask and a tall crest. The man carried a tall spear in one gloved hand, and held the other boldly at the group in a 'stop' gesture.
The wolf-man, who appeared to be leading the group, crossed his arms and grinned. 'Who might you be?' The man's voice,deep and strong, boomed from behind the gleaming metal mask: "I am Rynard Lightkeeper, Templar of the order of Boeldel. I am seeking the people responsible for the ruthless murder of my fellow Templars and the capture and ransom of our High Priest."
The Wolfman chuckled. "So you think our little group had something to do with this?"
The man in the mask emitted what, from a normal person, would be called a laugh, but there was no mirth in this sound, no derision. It boomed and echoed from within his masked helmet, sounding a bit like cannon-fire, but oddly hollow, deeply disturbing not a few members of the group. "Nay, I merely seek travellers who know this land, that I may go with them and further my search, and perhaps bring the perpetrators to justice in the name of the Almighty Creator."
The group seemed rather uneasy with this proposition, but they figured it was best not to upset this masked man, and so Rynard Lightkeeper fell in near the back of the group as they continued, saying nothing, his thoughts and face hidden behind a visored mask of shining steel. Every so often, Malachor would glance over his shoulder at this strange masked man, searching for some hint of a threat, but finding none.
"Freak," was the first thing which crossed Malachor's mind when he came across the newcomer. It wasn't his place on who decided who would join their troupe.
To be honest with himself, he didn't quite trust him. But then again, he never really trusted humans. And how did he know Rynard as a human? By Malachor using his nose, of course.
He shook his head, and he rose a hand in the air, and signalled the group on, as he trudged forward.
The question brought Eygar back to the seriousness of his situation. The attack by the wolves was almost a welcome distraction compared to the murder and treachery he had left behind at Castle Calefax.
"If you can call it a game," said Eygar with a grimace. "But no, it was but unfortunate chance that brought me across that pack of howling wolves. I..."
Eygar had no idea who this man was, or even if his story was true. This could all be an elaborate ruse to trick him into admitting something to be used against him later on. He could not trust so easily now, not until he could regain his bearings and understand his circumstances more clearly.
"...I am traveling," he decided to say, "and was looking for a place to spend the night. It is good fortune then that we ran across each other, for if what you say is true, then perhaps I can find lodging with these farmers you speak of."
The dark-skinned man shrugged as if to feign disinterest. "Well, I've my business to attend to. I'd be much obliged if you could spare the time to assist me, but I also wouldn't want you to soil those fine traveling robes you have on. The blue dye must be from Gailend, isn't it?"
As light and casual as Duran's voice was, Eygar sensed the pointed hint implied: What was someone dressed like Eygar, in robes of blue hue that were finely made, traveling about on his own without entourage? And the thought of hauling the cumbersome wolves through the forest made his blood freeze, for it gave all the more time for his pursuers to give chase.
Yet, Eygar knew he needed whatever he could get at that moment, and perhaps by luck and fortune he could obtain other clothes from the farmers in exchange for helping their wolf hunter in his task. He didn't like the prospect of such dirty work, but better to hide his identity than to be more obvious and thus be discovered.
"No, friend, let not my fine wear trouble you," he replied easily as he went up to one of the wolves and lifted its forelegs with a grunt of effort. "I had mind to change them in any case, for I only recently started my travels and had not taken practical thought to my mode of dress. I've no care if they should get soiled in the dirt of honest work."
Duran shrugged again. "All the same to me. And many hands make light work."
They took the wolves one at a time, making much better time that way. Eygar could only hope the farmers would not have met any soldiers by the time he came to talk to them.
OOC:
Ah, alright. You twisted my arm.
Name: Alexis (Last name unknown)
Age: 19
Species: Human
Appearance: Short brown hair with a fringe that often hangs over her brown eyes. Slender build, small stature (5' 0"). Is rarely seen without her Jester make-up or dark purple Jester costume
Personality: Bright and bubbly, Alexis lets very little in life turn her smile upside down. She greets everyone with a smile.
Brief History: Alexis became the castle jester when King Calefax found her performing in the street market when she was 16. King Calefax took a shine to her antics and bright attitude, and invited her to come to the castle to become the resident jester. She accepted, and became the first female jester to entertain the king.
IC:
Meanwhile, back at the Castle...
Alexis paced back and forth, wringing her hands, and repeating to herself "It's a dream! It's a dream!"
She could not beleive that the King had been murdered! Whispers through the Castle were that Lord Eygar himself was responsible, making this two times worse! General Darwin, who happened to be passing by at the time, placed one hand on her shoulder, and said "I'm afraid it is not.", before he continued on his way.
"Oh no..." Alexis' shoulders slumped. That was not what she wanted to hear.
King Calefax had been kind enough to take her in, when she was nothing but an orphan performing for what ever the crowds would give her.
"...What's going to happen to the princess...?" Alexis wondered out loud...
Duran and Eygar finally had all of the wolves inside three sturdy, wheeled cages just outside the forest, each cage large enough to hold two wolves. The cages were all connected so that, if one was pulled, the others would follow.
Duran grabbed hold of the rope connected to the first cage and began walking, motioning Eygar to follow.
Duran had an odd feeling about this Eygar fellow. Well, he certainly doesn't seem the type to stab me in the back, thought Duran. But what an odd way to be travelling... And so late in the night, as well.
"Well, friend," began Duran, "You probably shouldn't have to stay with the farmers, assuming you have some coin on you. The village has an inn or two that you could stay in. Lots of brigands like to travel through Covet Vale*, though. You may wake up with your coin purse missing, and your clothes? Well, dressed like that, who knows."
Duran chuckled at his joke, but Eygar seemed unamused, interested in his own thoughts. The man seemed to have something deep on his mind, and Duran didn't want to pry.
"But, uh... Covet Vale's quite a number of miles from here, and you look pretty tired. With a friendly face like yours, I'm sure someone will let you spend a quick night. The man I'm going to sell these wolves to, Ichabod Josenheimer, he's a good fellow. He should still be awake. Seeing these wolves might set him in the mood so you can ask him if he'd let you stay."
They reached what Duran said was their destination. Soft candle light glowed through the windows of the farmer's house. As they approached, they could see a man through the window sitting at a table, reading a book.
Duran rapped on the door. The man stood up and looked through the window. A smile spread across his face as he spotted the full cages in the dark, and he hurried to open the door.
"Duran!" said the man through his broad smile. "Quite another catch, I see! Six wolves! My, my, you are really keeping them under control! I only lost one sheep to the wolves this week, thanks to you!"
"Well, Ichabod, when you pay as much as you do, I can't resist the urge to help a friend in need," Duran said.
Ichabod laughed. "Ha! Oh, yes, favors from you do come at quite the price! But we've all got to make money somehow. Let me get some money-" Ichabod at last noticed a blonde man standing behind Duran.
"Who's your friend, here?" he asked. "Since when did you need help with your hunts, hmmm? Hehe! Dresses awful fancy, doesn't he!"
"I am Eygar," said the man who happened to be named Eygar. "I'm simply travelling, and I hadn't realized that perhaps my apparel wasn't quite suitable for a trek through the forest."
"He's looking for a place to stay," said Duran. "He's had quite the time making it through the forest, and I'd say he needs a bit of a rest. Mind if he stays in your barn for the night, maybe? I don't think he could make a walk back to town."
Ichabod had immediately decided that, by the word of Duran, there was no need to be suspicious of a finely dressed young man travelling in the dark through the forest. "Why, sure!" Ichabod said with a smile. "Not the comfiest, cleanest or nicest-smelling place around, but my house is full of my family, and they'd be awful suprised if they woke up and there was a stranger sleeping on the floor! Besides, the barn's certainly warm and cozy, or at least moreso than the dirt outside!"
Ichabod retreated back into the house to fetch the gold with which he would pay Duran.
Duran turned to Eygar. "My, that was easy! Some sleep'll do you some good, friend. I've got to get back to my room in the inn. I don't rent it so it can sit empty. Perhaps you'll stop by in the morning? Red Devil's Rest, that's where you can find me if you need me!"
"Ah, perhaps I may," said Eygar. He wanted to add that Duran shouldn't count on anything, but Ichabod emerged from his house with a small bag of what was doubtlessly valuables.
"Here you go," Ichabod said as he handed the bag to Duran. Duran quickly opened the bag to check the contents, but didn't bother counting, as he'd done a lot of trustworthy business with Ichabod before.
Ichabod also held a rolled-up blanket with what looked like folded long pants and a shirt tucked in his arm. "Doesn't look like you've got anything to keep you warm, so you can borrow this. If you leave early in the morning, just leave it on the doorstep. Here's some old clothes for you, too. You REALLY need a change if you go anywhere near Covet Vale. You wouldn't want to stand out too much with the vagabonds that travel around there." Ichabod took on an unusually serious look, but it quickly changed back to its friendly self.
"G'night, you two! Don't be stealin' nothin', y'here?" He added, and laughed as Duran and Eygar said goodbye. The door closed, and shortly after, the lights went out.
"This is where I head off, too," said Duran. Remember, Red Devil's Rest if you need any help from me. But don't expect any money. I'm not running a charity." He smiled, and shook Eygar's hand.
"I shall be fine," said Eygar. They shook hands, and Duran left, covering the caged wolves under dark tarps, and leaving the cages several meters from the house. He'd return in two days time to pick the cages up.
Duran felt strange. He had been more trusting with the blonde man than he would've been with most. Ichabod had also been pretty generous, throwing in a free pair of clothes. There was something about the Eygar fellow...
Saved from wolves, given a place to stay, and something more suitable to wear, if perhaps less comfortable than his "royal" clothing.
Indeed, Eygar had been quite the lucky man this night.
Or had he?
Duran wondered how long Eygar's luck would last.
* Slapping a name on the town at the last second.
Havent done an RP in a long time and this looks just right
Name: Allone
Age: 613
Species: ?
Appearance: Looks completely human Although thats not what she really looks like but Allone despises her heritage and chooses the appearance of being human.
Perfectly white skin, deep black eyes and long silver hair, she wears fine but practical robes that hide most of her body.
Personality: Allone has no personality of her own, shes very receptive to other peoples personality as she can feel other peoples emotions.
Brief History: Allone is not human, she knows what she is but she doesnt embrace it. Travelling the world for centuries she settled down in the kings castle forty years ago, hired by the previous kings alchemist to research werewolves. Having barely aged a day she rarely speaks to anyone else in the castle and is a close friend of no one although her work continues.
IC:
BACK AT THE CASTLE
Allone paced the corridors, glancing at the worried faces around her. Every one had the same story of confusion and anger, soldiers were rushing around shouting at each other and bellowing orders.
She covered her ears, not to cut out the noise of their shouting but to relieve herself of their hatred. They were so angry, so righteously set on avenging their fallen king that they had become dangerous. She could feel their anger rubbing off on her and she didnt want it. She had come to find peace, all those years ago. This was the first time that anything had really shaken her from her studies and it was, unsettling.
Ahead she could see the Kings Jester, a bright young woman she had never really spoken to the new woman who had arrived four, five some years ago. The woman wasnt smiling, she wasnt laughing or dancing but standing still in the corridor with wide open eyes. Allone froze, automatically feeling the regret the young woman was going through. Alexis had known the king well, almost too well.
Struck by the image she turned to leave, a sudden urge to run and get away bubbling through her. She was about to run when the jester turned around, catching her eye across the corridor. Allone froze, unable to move as they stared across the country, a tiny voice in the back of her head ordering her to run. She'd just get upset if she talked to Alexis.
Name: Drl'an Krs'nal (DRILL-an KRIS-nal)
Age: 26
Species: Blitzkinder (Wood)
Appearance: Appearing at first glance to be an ordinary, if very tall, young woman, Drl'an stands about 6 feet, with piercing green eyes and deeply brown skin, Drl'an has a few key differences from regular humans; most notably a pair of light-brown animal-like ears, similar in appearance to a rabbit's, which are usually kept tied up under a kerchief. She usually wears concealing robes both to hide her arsenal of poisons, needles, darts, and various other tools of assassination, and the fact that her skin seems a little too smooth and brown, and her hands unusually long and thin...
Personality: Drl'an is cold, calculating, and machiavellian, and cares about nothing but achieving her own ends. She is also extremely misanthropic, and cares nothing for human life. If any person, or number of people, stand in her way, she will cut them down mercilessly.
Brief History: Not much is known about Drl'an, as she appeared in Calefax only about three years ago. In that short time, however, her notorious deeds and assassinations have earned her the nickname "Black Rose".
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She sat perched in a treetop high in the forest just outside the town, staring up at the night sky. She knew from her travels that this place was called Cove something-or-other, a backwater, out-of-the-way place she'd never normally be if not for the importance of this job. It had become apparent that the knight they had left alive was not, in fact, heading back to the tower as planned, but was continuing along in the hopes of finding them. She would have killed him the minute she had found out, but for some reason the master had decided to let him live for now. It appeared he had found a group of travellers to go along with, a group which included the princess no less. They weren't interested in her at the least, though. What they were seeking was far more important...
Drl'an was almost surprised by a crash below, and looked down in time to see a man in regal dress being accosted by what appeared to be a pack of wolves. Just as she had thought the man was going to have his throat torn out, a second man arrived and saved him in the unlikely nick of time. She continued to watch disinterestedly as they loaded the wolves into large wheeled cages, and left towards the town.
That finished, Drl'an melded with the shadows in the canopy of the tree, vanishing from sight, and slept. The knight was not expected to pass this way for another few hours.
--------------
It was almost dawn when the band of travellers passed through the village, Rynard walking silently near the side as usual. He stopped an bid the group farewell, and asked them if they'd be staying in the town. Receiving an answer to his question, he nodded, and asked where the local inn was. Again being answered, he walked off with purpose in the direction indicated.
Drl'an nodded to herself and leapt from her tree clear across the cart-track, grabbing the closest trunk and catapulting herself to the next one, blending seamlessly with the foliage and not disturbing a single leaf.
