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 Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2008 3:23 pm
The day was drawing to a close and the weary traveller set down his luggage with great trepidation before the door to the only Inn of miles around. He was on foot as he disliked horses and mistrusted them, any form of vehicle whether motorised or otherwise was inappropriate for his mission and the terrain he would be crossing. He had been travelling since the ancient sun had lurched into the auburn sky that morning having left the house of the great magicians the previous day.
His mission was simple; travel to a far away place known as the desert of the night and retrieve an orb described as "clear and glowing with silver".
He dropped the hood of his travelling cloak to his shoulders and knocked on the door of the Inn. He would have preferred to have stayed outdoors but it would look highly suspicious of him as the Inn was so nearby. He simply didn't want such attention.
An eye loomed through a barred opening in the sturdy wooden door. This place were taking no risks. The doorkeeper observed the journeyman's close cropped light brown hair, small, steely grey eyes and fine boned face and demanded of him his name and business.
"I'm Marcus Johnson, a traveller and humble tradesman, I wish for a room and a meal. I shall pay you with the legal tender of the land and you shall have no trouble from me."
There was a pause. It was now officially night and the Inn's staff wanted no trouble.
"Come in." The man said and he did.
((Drum roll please! Dark Mark is back and looking badass with his new avvie. Basically this is a saving-the-world-like-a-fantasy-novel-type RP if it's too cheesy let me know, I'm open to suggestions.
Plot wise we'll have the guys trying to save the world with these magicians, the guys trying to save the world with some other people whom the magicians believe are trying to rule it (not decided whether they are or not yet) and the usual nutters who don't want the world saved.
Usual rules n stuff. Oh and give me a nice long intro post so we know what the character's about.
The first character to post from each faction controls that faction's destiny for example, Mark here is in charge of his little group.
Right, I'm off to make an OoC thread *ping*))
The world is dying and few know how to save it. The plants are wilting and the animals are become mutated and, more often than not, hostile towards mankind. It's our fault and it's up to us to fix it.
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Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2008 3:38 pm
In a small and desolate village, night drawing ever on, a traveller and his aide approach each house in turn, eyeing the doors. They are looking for something, and it seems they haven't found it yet.
"I don't like this." growled the low baritone of the taller, more commanding of the two, his face covered by a high hood, "It is not becoming to rest in such squallid abodes."
"Master," replied the second, a female, similarly covered yet without as much decoration, "there are no greater places of rest around save the Inn, and it would be unsuitable for one such as yourself to rest in the company of such lowly mortals."
The taller gave a weary sigh, still watching the doors of the passing houses, "You speak truly, for we need our rest if we are to cross the desert."
And the cross the desert they shall, that much he believed fervently. They would cross it and find the orb of which the texts speak. They would find it and destroy it. And thus the world would be saved. The pair stopped in front of a certain door, it had a word scratched crudely into the doorframe. That word was 'CLOVER'.
The woman stepped forward and knocked harshly on the door, calling out in a loud voice, "Simple peasants! The Lord Alman and his aide require rest for the night! You shall leave your abode and allow us access to your facilities! This is your obligation as followers of the Book of Clover! Now exit, and give your Lord his rest!"
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Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2008 4:12 pm
Keeping her eyes down, Claire shuffled through the crowded and noise-filled kitchen to the piano in the common room of the Inn. It was a busy night and she was under instruction to entertain their guests. The other women of the bar took this direction with a wink and a nod. They were going to get money for the business their way but Clare was going to do it her own way.
Her belly and legs were horribly scarred and thoroughly undesirable to the male customers and she was a selective mute and incapable of drumming up smooth conversation whilst subtly cutting purse strings. Her sole talent was an unlikely one, she can play any instrument put in front of her brilliantly well and, it was rumoured, she had an uncanny ability with animals of all kinds, those still natural and those mutated and angry. The wise and the basic, they all loved her. When she was not playing the piano, she was in the stable, caring for horses in a way which gets her mighty fine tips.
She struck a few chords on the piano before deciding on something upbeat and jazzy. The world may be ending but it didn't mean she can't have a good time. From there she moved onto a slow melodic piece and then a waltz.
The door was opened cautiously by the doorkeeper, admitting a man with light hair and almost delicate face. The doorman never admits people after sundown, he was almost famous for it. She looked up briefly and met his eyes before looking down. She couldn't communicate with people she didn't know, even eye contact was too much for her sometimes. It's best just to keep quiet, keep your head and eyes down and pretend like you're not there.
-Maybe the visitor has a horse- she thought, and left her piano, all the eye contact had made her uncomfortable, the horses always made her feel better. On her way out she heard a small family begging with hthe Innkeeper. Their house had been aquired by a Lord, she couldn't hear the name, Almar or Amral or something, she knew the family though, followers of Clover. Claire had no real religious dedications and thought no more of it.
What she couldn't take her mind off were the slate-grey eyes of the traveller.
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Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2008 12:42 am
Mark dipped to retrieve his bags from the floor, thankful for the doorkeeper's generosity. He wasn't exactly known in this area, usually he stayed with the magicians, he suspected some of them of casting helpful spells on him but he wasn't sure; he's always been luckier than most and that, he supposed was why he was sent after the orb. This isn't to say that he's not qualified, having been taught the arts of fighting, hunting and preserving himself in the wilderness he was, maybe, more qualified than most.
Stepping into the Inn his eyes meet those of a young woman at the piano, she had quite a pretty face but Mark wanted as low a profile as possible and taking up with one of the Inn's female staff members simply wouldn't do. He seated him self away from some of the more suspicious of the customers but not in the corner like the stories always say. This mysterious traveller sat with his back against the wall and a great view of the room.
In his head he related the map and his mission. It shouldn't take too long to get there, a day, three at most across this end of the desert and then an unknown amount of time until he finds the orb. The desert of the night was, according to the writings, an infinite waste which marks the edge of all life on the world. The magicians had given him a stick which he could touch to anything in order to turn it into an edible substance and nutritious. Unfortunately it was almost guaranteed to taste bad.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the pretty pianist stepping out towards the horse yards. He hoped she knew what she was doing, those beasts can be vicious. He thought of his last encounter with one and shuddered; the creature had thrown him and trampled him over and over until someone could catch it and kill it. It broke a great deal of bones, thankful he lived with Master of the Seven and they protected his organs and healed his bones, they were exhausted for days, apparently it was like an endurance trial for them but they enjoyed the challenge and, they claimed, it improved this stamina for the next time an emergency occurs.
His supper arrived as he sat thinking, served by a flirtatious brunette, he played as oblivious as he could to the woman's intentions and she soon left, giving him up as a bad job. Mechanically he ate the food, still deep in thought.
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Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2008 5:10 am
Alessa opened the door to the Inn with the confidence of one who belongs there, and took a quick scan of the room. No possible threats, her trained eyes told her, though she was already receiving some bemused looks. She made her way purposefully to the bar, matching the gazes of any who looked at her. Their eyes didn't linger long, most if not all knew the significance of crest she wore at her shoulder: a golden flower, only about the size of a gold coin. The crest of Clover, and better protection than any armour. So long as she wore it, none would (or should) touch her, for fear of bringing down the fire of Chora upon themselves. Not that she was defenseless. Under her all-concealing cloth robe was a force trained for battle by the very best teachers, hardship and experience. To this day, she had no sustained a single injury, her skin was unblemished and unmarked. Of course, nobody here knew that.
She sat herself down at the bar, relaxing in the protective suspicion she had wrapped around herself. She was tired from the day's endeavours, and needed something to cool her weary mind. Her Lord Alman was currently alone in the peasant's house, and in the best possible care. Though he was defenseless as he was, there was something Lords of his stature carried around with them that would keep them safe during the night. Something terrible. She didn't like to sleep in the same building as Lord Alman, let alone the same room, for fear that his protection might be her undoing.
Slowly, she took the small square of parchment out from her sleeves and unrolled it, the map of their route. Ironically it only lead them up to the very edge of the desert, no further, that much was up to them. For none had crossed the desert and returned with the cartographic skills required to tell anyone what lay beyond the horizon. Few returned with any faculties left at all. At their current pace, they would be by the edges of the desert by the day after next, so long as they encountered no trouble. And trouble seemed unlikely, with the two of them
(three of them)
together. She winced, steadying her breath and rubbing her eyes with her middle finger and thumb. That thing was talking to her again.
"You, er, a-alright there?" came a concerned, if frightened, voice. Alessa looked up, noticing the barman for the first time. She hurredly tucked the parchment back into her sleeve.
"I'd like a room for the night." she replied, "Nothing fancy." She reached into one of the robe's many deep pockets and proferred a handful of bronze coins. More than enough, she wagered.
"C-certainly. I'll just get it ready." Not bothering to take the coins, barely even looked at them, the barman retreated into the back rooms.
Alessa sighed. Sometimes she wished she wasn't feared.
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Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2008 5:33 am
He could almost smell the fear emanating from the people around him, nothing he should concern himself with really, they're all a superstitious bunch but soon it started to annoy him. He looked up and followed the furtive glances of his fellow pub-goers to find a woman deeply engrossed in the study of some parchment. A brief conversation occurred between barkeep and woman after which he skittered away like a fly on a coal.
A woman must be either brave, stupid or incredibly talented to walk into a bar unaccompanied and command that degree of respect even if it was respect through fear. He was too far away and could only see her back so the crest at her shoulder was not visible to him but he had his suspicions. He considered approaching her but his low profile demanded that he did not. He called over a woman of the bar and asked her to send her a drink from him but not to tell her who or where he is. "An anonymous gift from a shy gentlemen", she was to say.
All he really wanted was a better look at a feared woman.
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Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2008 5:50 am
When the drink was placed in front of Alessa, she was a little surprised. This sort of thing did not occur very often to her, not since that fateful day all those years ago. Eventually she sighed quietly to herself. Right now she just wanted to be left alone. She'd had enough of people for one day, and this 'shy gentleman' was not about to become an exception. She placed the drink to one side of her, then made a show of pushing it along the bar until it was out of reach, thereby not only proving her point to all in the room, but also to show up the crest on her right shoulder. Though she wasn't keen on many of the negative traits that her position entailed, she was willing to use them to her advantage.
Her annoyances removed for the time being, she closed her eyes and thought back over the day's events. The morning, the payment, the gang of fanatics. It had been an unusually brutal day, perhaps that was why she didn't want to get too close to anyone tonight. She had shed the blood of mindless innocents today, and didn't want there to be potential for any more incidents. She just wanted to lie down, go to sleep, and in the morning have all of this put behind her so she could go out and do it all again. Yet the barman was taking his time in getting back to her, so she waited.
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Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2008 6:29 am
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman push the drink away and smiled to himself, he caught the Clover symbol on her shoulder and he was sure; they were after the orb. The magicians had told him that much. He had studied up on the Book of Clover and it's followers and they were truly fascinating.
Other preparations for his trip included the study of any and all materials pertaining to the desert ahead of him. It's name referred not to the eternal darkness of the place the patches of pitch blackness which moved spontaneously throughout it. His enquiries had led him to believe that no wild creature, no matter how foul, could exist for more than a day in these darknesses and that, for the traveller desiring to avoid all dangerous wildlife, they were the safest option. Unfortunately, the great pits and cliffs of the place meant that the darkness in itself could be fatal, no light or lamp of nature of magic could brighten it.
He had decided to travel through the light and make camp whenever the darkness springs upon him. He was to carry a sturdy branch with him in order to identify the lay of the land in such moments should the need come upon him. He carried with him also seventeen knives hidden throughout his clothing; his favourite weapons. His main fear, before this night, had been to be attacked by unnatural beasts and significantly outnumbered but now. Well, now, it was to be found and captured by the people of Clover, their fighting skills are prolific, without a great deal of help he didn't stand a chance.
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