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Nathaniel Thornwood

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success...


A smirk crossed Nathaniel's face, he enjoyed capturing the attention of people. It mattered to him not if it held positive or negative influence just that people noticed him was enough. Taking a long drink he made the flame increase in size and swirl around his hand. The flame circled his hand faster and faster until he finished his drink. Nathaniel set the empty tankard back on the bar then clenched his fist extinguishing the flame. Yawning he stood from the bar and stretched and slowly made his way to the exit his greaves making the familiar clanking noise as he moved. As he walked he waved a temporary farewell the innkeeper.


...What are we waiting for?"
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Cut me down
But it's you who have further to fall
Ghost town, haunted love...
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones
I'm talking loud not saying much....

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••Rowan Leigh Blackstone••

♈The Thieving Archer♈
`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´


Rowan watched the man get up and had to keep herself from getting up herself. Her gaze followed him to the door and she blinked. She shook her head and looked up, seeing the bar maiden set her food and water down. She nodded at the girl and watched her walk away. "Now if they'd only leave me alone..." She groaned as she took the first bite. Her stomach growled at her menacingly and she sighed and tore through her food. She was finished with it in at most a minute or two. It also helped that there wasn't much to eat. She jumped up, a sudden feeling of concern hitting her. 'Fiora! Thoughts of her horse raced through her mind. She felt as though someone was going to try to take her. And these feelings were usually right, much to Rowan's misfortune.



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♥♥ooc:♥♥



I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away!
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away!
You shoot me down, but I won't fall
I am titanium!
The_Grull's avatar

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Nathaniel Thornwood

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success...


The air outside was cool and smelled of rain clouds a storm was approaching. Standing out front of the tavern he looked around, wasn't much going on at the time a few people walking by, two kids chasing each other screaming, a horse hitched to a post, and an emaciated dog looking for scraps. Not noticing anything amiss Nathaniel stepped off the stairs. Looking up at the sky he let out a silent prayer to the gods to help him find some work.


...What are we waiting for?"
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Mordecai Jethro Wolfmane

"I'd have never thought that being a bandit could be so rewarding. . ."

INDENTThrowing open the doors to the tavern Jethro assumed a broad smile and elegantly strode his way to the bar. With two knocks on the counter, what suddenly seemed to be a lusty barmaid swooned and set a pint of ale in front of him. He shot her a quick glance and took the drink, pacing off towards the center of the tavern, catching the barmaids' attention. He was a frequent customer and the barmaids were well aware that he was a charmer. Jethro looked about him and noticed some interesting folks sitting about in the crowd.

INDENTThere was sparsely armored man manipulating what appeared to be fire at the bar whilst a petite archer lass marveled at the act. There was a hooded woman who seemed to be trying to blend in and, of course, there was Yngrald in the back with his copious amounts of mead. By the Gods, that man was his own cask of the stuff. Jethro wasn't particularly fond of mead. It had too sweet of a honey taste to it. Now, grog was a different story. But that was neither here nor there.


((Late on the draw, I see. Well, let's assume that Jethro saw all this before anybody left and whatnot.))

". . . Maybe that's why I'm the King?"
Talia Rosalie's avatar

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Cut me down
But it's you who have further to fall
Ghost town, haunted love...
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones
I'm talking loud not saying much....

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••Rowan Leigh Blackstone••

♈The Thieving Archer♈
`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´


The petite blonde bit her bottom lip. Fiora had been with her ever since she was a small child. She had been the first thing Rowan had stolen. She had been taken by the archer, from her stall, the night Rowan ran away. Fiora had always been hers, but she never really belonged to her until Rowan left home. She let out a sigh and sat back down. The mare would be fine. She could hold her own for the moment. "She's just as fiesty as me..." She said to herself, pushing around the remains of her meal with her fork, convincing herself that it was just paranoia. She stared down at the plate, rather put off by her omnious thoughts. But just as she was starting to wallow in a dangerous cocktail of self-pity, boredom, and anger, the door flew up.

A man stood in the doorway and just about every woman in the tavern swooned and dropped where she either stood or sat. Rowan just rolled her eyes and smirked. "Oh, give me a break." She said with a slight laugh, a mocking giggle. The smirk was still trained on her face and another giggle escaped her lips, as she watched the bar maidens continue to swoon over the man. It was most amusing.



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♥♥ooc:♥♥
Alright, I'll play along.



I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away!
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away!
You shoot me down, but I won't fall
I am titanium!
Captain Tobias Kromwell's avatar

Wealthy Entrepreneur

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Mordecai Jethro Wolfmane

"I'd have never thought that being a bandit could be so rewarding. . ."

INDENTJethro almost seemed to shrug as the flame wielder was leaving, but his glance back to the archer proved somewhat rewarding. She was smiling, giggling even. Apparently she was amused with something about Jethro, which made him all the more interested in her. By no means was he a womanizer. Jethro, in fact, despised womanizers and very frequently stressed that he just prefers the company of women. Of course, a stranger wasn't going to know that. Of course, Jethro would have to just test those waters for himself. One amused is one who can continue to be amused.

"Excuse me, miss, but might I inquire as to the origins of your amusement?"

INDENTJethro smirked at the archer girl and gave her a curious look. He was awaiting any wit that she might bring forth, or an insult. Those were just as common as jokes when it came to Jethro and his fancies. He was genuinely interested, but would quickly cut the conversation short if it got ugly. Jethro hated ugly.


". . . Maybe that's why I'm the King?"
Talia Rosalie's avatar

Dapper Grabber

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Cut me down
But it's you who have further to fall
Ghost town, haunted love...
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones
I'm talking loud not saying much....

User Image


••Rowan Leigh Blackstone••

♈The Thieving Archer♈
`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´


Rowan's smile stayed on her face when the man approached her. She glanced over at the cluster of bar maidens, who were all giving her a death glare. It made her absolutely glow. "The bar maidens. They went from nosy waitresses to frisky harlots the moment you stepped foot in this tavern." She chose her words carefully, she didn't want to appear stupid. She hated feeling stupid. She kept on smiling and then looked back at him. "It's quite entertaining. I thank you for that. The evening was growing dull." Rowan nodded her thanks to him and quickly glanced at the chair opposite of her, wondering if she should invite him to sit with her.



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♥♥ooc:♥♥
I just scratched my sunburn. My amusement is gone. :'(



I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away!
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away!
You shoot me down, but I won't fall
I am titanium!
aceedex's avatar

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╔════════════════╗

Remiel Meyers

╚════════════════╝


The silver hair of young Remiel brushed against the wooden side of the building making an almost inaudible noise. Remiel took a glance back and he saw the paved ground beneath him. A fall from there wouldn't kill him unless he broke his neck, but it would certainly hurt. Preferring to avoid unpleasant feelings, he threw most of his weight on the wooden building and the small ledge that held him up by the toes. Remiel cautiously moved to his right, where an open window laid unattended. From the floor below, one could hear the vibrant noises of the tavern. The small group of thieves he belonged to were having a small economic crisis. The group was poorly fed due to a lack of jobs so falling back on petty crimes like pick pocketing was their only means of survival for now. Some color returned to his pale face once he dragged himself into the unoccupied room. Since there was no one residing there, there was nothing worthy of stealing. Remiel was after the money of drunk patrons and distracted dancers. Maybe even some of the inn's earnings. He wondered if the dark coat he always wore made him any easier to spot. Though it was comfortable to wear, it seemed out of place at times.

With the utmost of care and precision, Remiel checked the adjacent rooms for anything to steal. By the time he made his way to the ground floor his earnings could easily buy him a meal and a room and leave enough money to pick up something for the rest of the group. Thief or not, Remiel was somewhat honorable. He never took anything that seemed to have sentimental value neither did he completely clean a place of valuables. He was very understanding of the suffering of others. This was his motivation to be somewhat kind to those he stole from. As he made his way to a table on the ground floor he attracted decent attention to himself. It wasn't very pleasing, but if he acted on it it would seem suspicious. As the bar maiden approached him he smiled and said: "The usual please." The girl quickly turned on her heels, but his order was quickly thrown away to the bottom of her thoughts. Like almost every other woman on the tavern, the barmaid had become lovestruck with the man who drove everyone's attention to himself. Remiel didn't mind this at all. He visited that tavern often, and oftentimes he saw the same display. In fact, this display was usually helpful. The frenzied women all had but the slightest care about their belongings when that man was around. It was like striking gold.


—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤——¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤——¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—
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Nathaniel Thornwood

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success...


After walking up the road a ways Nathaniel stopped and sat on an old tree stump. Reaching into his pack he produced his long pipe and a leather pouch containing tobacco. Putting his index finger on the tobacco in the pipe he lit it taking a drag he rolled the smoke around his mouth letting the familiar taste settle in. Looking up he started to blow smoke rings toward the sky. Looking into the pouch he noticed he was nearly out of tobacco, shaking his head cursing his smoking habit. Blowing another ring into the sky he closed his eyes as a raindrop fell onto his forehead.


...What are we waiting for?"
Captain Tobias Kromwell's avatar

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Mordecai Jethro Wolfmane

"I'd have never thought that being a bandit could be so rewarding. . ."

INDENTNot entirely understanding the nature of the woman's glance to the seat opposite her, Jethro mistook it for a gesture to join her. Gently gripping the handle of his mug, Jethro stood elegantly and made his way to the seat and sat across from the archer. He took a sip from his ale and set the mug down on the table. Looking to her finally, Jethro leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs with a gentle smile on his face.

"You see, I'm a regular here and the women here seem to have some fascination with sarcastic bandit lords. I can't see where it comes from, but I'm glad to see that not all women suffer the same obsessions. I am Mordecai, by the by. My friends call me Jethro. You may also call me Jethro."

INDENTHe smiled wider to her and nodded to her slightly, waving away the hovering barmaids who promptly huffed and stomped off. Jethro was focused on his new acquaintance. One that he hoped could prove to be an ally in the future.


". . . Maybe that's why I'm the King?"
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Story


Story puttered around the small rooms she had rented. She heard noises next door, and was briefly surprised that anyone was there, as the owners were not normally there at this hour. Who could it be? Was there someone there who shouldn't be? But she dismissed the thought and returned to her neat bundles of herbs which she grew in the windows. In fact, her whole small home was filled with the scent of dirt and sweet greenery to make her medicines. This was her safe haven. She tied the thread with long pale fingers in a graceful, swift movement, then proceeded to hang it up and slip on her cloak. She was tired tonight and didn't feel like cooking.

She proceeded to the local tavern which was filled with an unusual number of guests. She hurried to the counter and exchanged a smile with the girl (she'd known her grandmother, mother, and her since they were children). She was given food and drink, and a head shaken at her when she tried to pay. She'd return them with much needed medicine. She slipped like a shadow to the back tables and sat in the half light, interestedly examining the other customers.
Talia Rosalie's avatar

Dapper Grabber

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Cut me down
But it's you who have further to fall
Ghost town, haunted love...
Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones
I'm talking loud not saying much....

User Image


••Rowan Leigh Blackstone••

♈The Thieving Archer♈
`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´`•.¸¸.••´´¯``•• .¸¸.•´


Rowan smiled at him and watched him sit down and wave off the hovering flies... or bar maids."It's nice to meet you, Jethro..." She nodded at him. 'Bandit lord, huh? Maybe he'll be of use to me... and my fellow thieves...' She tilted her head to the side, her golden hair falling down. "I'm a thief. It's a pleasure to meet the bandit lord." She extended her hand in a friendly gesture.

She smiled at him and focussed directly on him, even though she saw someone familiar right behind him. Sitting at the bar. 'Remiel?!' She gasped internally. She hadn't seen him in ages. She shook her head slightly, suddenly, getting herself to stop. She looked back at Jethro and placed her hands in her lap. "Since you told me who you are and what you are, I might as well do the same thing... And give you the other half of my information. I'm Rowan Blacksto-." She cut herself off immediately. She didn't want anybody to recognize her ties with nobility. She swallowed hard and hoped he hadn't caught the last word.



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♥♥ooc:♥♥



I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away!
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away!
You shoot me down, but I won't fall
I am titanium!
Captain Tobias Kromwell's avatar

Wealthy Entrepreneur

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Mordecai Jethro Wolfmane

"I'd have never thought that being a bandit could be so rewarding. . ."

INDENTJethro smiled at the straightforwardness of the girl, who had just become Rowan Blacksto-. Her immediate stop left a more devious grin upon Jethro's face. It wasn't hard to fill in the blanks, she was nobility once. Of course, anyone who had access to that information also knew that the Blackstones 'lost' a daughter to bandits. Oh, if only. Jethro laughed to himself at the thought of how wonderful it would have been to convert a noble of Bravilde. She definitely seemed like she'd have made a great bandit. Frankly, there weren't enough women who got into the bandit scene. It was dominated by the big, hairy, mindless oafs that come out of the woodworks from the prisons.

"Indeed, my remark as to being a bandit lord was sarcasm at its most. However, now that you've been so forwardly speaking with me, I must be with you, Ms. Blacksto- erm.. Rowan. I am indeed Mordecai Wolfmane, and I am indeed what the locals call the Bandit King. If you truly be a thief, then you should be aware that I am no more hospitable to thieves than I am my own family. I attempt to preserve the bond between bandit and thief."

INDENTRising from his seat, Jethro took Rowan's hand gently and bowed in courtesy. He wouldn't go so far as to kiss the back of her hand... This time. However, when he finished, his hand slipped lightly from hers and he sat once more. Her eyes had given away that she'd known someone in the crowd of patrons. It wasn't a negative connection, either. Jethro relaxed a bit more and began to listen to all of his surroundings. He did not fear attack from Rowan, but he would be cautious because she was not alone, it seemed.


". . . Maybe that's why I'm the King?"
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Wealthy Entrepreneur

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Yngrald Dwarginjolf

"Lo, there do I see my Father. Lo, there do I see my Mother and my Sisters and my Brothers. Lo, there do I see the Line. . ."

INDENTYngrald hadn't been in the tavern more than an hour and he'd already downed at least a dozen pints of mead. What's more, one of the patrons believed that they could win a drinking contest due to Yngrald's record already. Sitting in the back with a group of cheering men, Yngrald and his challenger kept downing mugs of ale (as it was the cheapest competition drink). The challenger seemed to be getting a bit tipsy and Yngrald bore a smile of conquest. It wouldn't be long before the other patron would either pass out or quit.

"Give up now lad, so you can still stumble home!"

INDENTYngrald shouted at his opponent teasingly, inciting laughter from the crowd, to which Yngrald downed another ale. When the mug was empty, Yngrald threw the mug on the ground and the clay drinking vessel shattered with a thunderous ring.


". . .Of my people back to the beginning. They do bid me to take my place beside them.. In the Halls of Valhalla.. Where the Brave may live forever."
aceedex's avatar

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╔════════════════╗

Remiel Meyers

╚════════════════╝


As Remiel studied the liveliness of the tavern he noticed Rowan's presence. He was somewhat surprised to see her. Knowing well about her tastes when it came to looting it was no surprise she would be somewhere like a tavern. Great minds think alike, or so they say. He could only wonder if she knew of his presence there. From what Remiel could gather, Rowan had either completely lost her head and was starting to fall for the charming stranger or she was trying to butter him up and rob him first chance she got. Maybe, just maybe, Rowan was simply trying to enjoy her day. He didn't think too much of it. Remiel glared at her, hoping to make eye contact so he would know she knew he was there. Unable to decide if she was looking at him or simply dazing off, he winked at her and stood up from his seat. Not wanting to ruin any of Rowin's plans, he decided to see if anyone was distracted enough to be profitable.

As his glance went around the room his eyes landed on an eerie figure in the back of the tavern. His eyes seemed to detect a silver mane and a black cowl. He couldn't help but think that she had a slight resemblance to him. If he grew out his hair and had a somewhat more feminine complexion they could look about the same. His gaze remained fixed on her. She drew his attention is an odd manner. Something about her seemed interesting. Remiel stood there, fixed on this girl. With some of the other things going around him like the charming stranger his awkward stance wasn't really noticed.


—¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤——¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤——¤÷(`[¤* *¤]´)÷¤—

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