|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2015 6:47 am
This Quest is for Dovev who is striving to become a Swordsman.
 OOC
||. The quest prompt must be answered with a 2000 word reply (can be more).
||. Respond to the prompt given with an adventure of your own creation as long as it meets the requirements of the specific tasks.
||. NPCs may be used as long as they advance the quest in an interesting manner.
||. You cannot include any playable characters other than the quest taker.
||. Your responses will be graded with a Pass or Fail. Those who fail will have to continue with assistance from the staff.
||. Questions about quests can be asked here.
IC
While travelling with Teslaron, they had ended up in a small town in Sauti. Teslaron was out researching his treasure's location when Dovev was pulled aside and asked to assist in taking down a bandit troop that has been making the town's life difficult. It's an all-swords situation, and Dovev had been offered room, board, and supplies for the next leg of the journey, including a map that will be useful.
While helping, Dovev encountered the leader of the bandits as he was trying to escape. The leader was not alone though, he had with him his infant daughter: he attempted to plead with Dovev and offered the location to his hidden stash of treasure if Dovev would only let him and his daughter leave. It included, he said, a nice sum of gold and supplies, and a map of Sauti.
Dovev must either kill the man or let him go.
Quest Tasks
||. The quest should start with Dovev being contracted to help rid the town of the bandits.
||. He will be offered a generous sum of money and items in exchange for his help.
||. When he finds the leader trying to escape, Dovev also finds he has an infant daughter with him.
||. If he decides to fight, the leader will fight to the death, and the daughter will die as well. How does Dovev come to terms with killing an innocent?
||. If he decides to let the man leave, how does he come to terms with breaking the original contract and being bribed to do so?.
||. The quest should end with his decision and his reflection of the resulting actions.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2015 9:14 pm
Dovev polished his sword to a brilliant shine, smoothing out the myriad nicks and notches that it had acquired in the course of its normal use. The blade was no work of art, and was far from beautiful, but it was sharp and serviceable and, more to the point, it was his. It was his livelihood: without it, he was merely an ex-slave, a scrap of a boy with nothing to his name. With it, he was a sell-sword, able to take care of himself and go where he pleased. This piece of metal was what defined him. One day, he would have enough to buy a better sword, and that would, in turn, make him better at what he did.
Perhaps he thought, When I finish the contract with Wer... he corrected himself abruptly, With Teslaron, I will be able to improve myself further; find new jobs, new allies, new equipment. After all, the contract had the potential to be very profitable. Treasure aside, there were many things in these barbaric lands that people in Oba and Matori would pay well for – spices and gems whose intrinsic value Dovev could appreciate.
However, to complete the contract, Dovev needed supplies to sustain them through the mountains, and perhaps just as important if not more so, information to tell them where to go. Teslaron was procuring the latter – he was very good at that sort of thing - and so it fell to Dovev to aquire the former.
He sheathed his newly polished sword, frowning. He needed a plan of acquisition, first and foremost; he knew that if he was armed with a plan, he would come away successful. His mind analyzed through all the possibilities: the markets he could go to in the area, what they might sell and for how much, what he could afford to trade for what...
“You. Fin-boy.” Dovev looked up calmly, his scheming having been rudely interrupted by a young man. His pale features and spired pink crystals marked him as a Wind tribesman, his crossbow marking him further still as an archer. He looked too young to be a sniper, too old to be a prentice, thus putting him around Dovev's own age. “Can you use that thing?”
“If you refer to this one's sword...” Dovev gestured at the weapon, “Then indeed, yes.” He met the man's suspicious gaze with curiosity, watching him with interest. “Why do you ask?”
“Could have just said yes.” muttered the wind man, “Well, good. Follow me.”
“What is this in reference to?” Dovev rose to his feet ponderously despite the man's impatient gestures.
“You'll get briefed soon enough.” the man said, “So get a move on... Trust me, Fin-boy, it will be worth your while.”
Information later. Dovev assessed, Worth my while... Was this a job? If so, going in mostly blind was somewhat acceptable.
“Hoy, Elder, I found another able sword.”
A group of people were gathered around an old wind tribeswoman, her golden hair flecked with grey. She nodded at the man's words: “Good. We need every hand, even foreign ones.” she beckoned Dovev close. “As some of you know, there is a cavern in the crags above us. A few months ago, a troop of bandits decided to lair there, attacking travellers on our roads and our own people too. They've even threatened to raid us, and we know what they do when they raid...” her eyes narrowed, and Dovev found himself disinclined to know what she meant. “And that is what they will do if we don't give them capramel from our herds. I do not plan on giving them even a single head. They have become an unacceptably serious problem and so, I've decided that they need to be cleared out.” She looked at the assembled group – fairly seasoned veterans all, Dovev noticed. This certainly sounds like a job. he thought, listening patiently. Moreover, it was one he could do – he had been born, bred, and trained to fight. The question was, what was in it for him?
“It will be risky.” admitted the elder, “And I don't expect any of you to do this dangerous task on your sense of duty and honor alone. Those who fight the bandits and survive to tell of their victory will be paid. Generously. Supplies, treasure hewn from the mountains, a roof over your heads, good treatment, fresh food... whatever we can provide, within reason. I am willing to negotiate personally with each of you over this...” she crossed her arms, “If you fight them with us.”
That is more like it. thought Dovev enthusiastically, nodding appreciatively at her words. Supplies and valuable goods would always come in handy, and Dovev was confident in his ability to negotiate for other things, especially maps and clothing.
“If you are not interested, feel free to leave now and go about your business. If you are interested, remain here and my grandson...” she gestured to the young wind man who had brought Dovev there, “Will brief you on the bandit encampment and lead you there.”
Of course, Dovev stayed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2015 9:25 pm
With the generous payment offered, everybody had a stake in making sure that the fight against the bandits went well. Scouts had checked out their lair, and the group had a rough map to work with, enough at least for a strategy. They discussed approaches, made plans, and organized their ranks, their efficiency belying both experience and the wind tribe's innate familiarity with the area. Soon enough, it was time to put their plans into action.
The stealthier members of the group edged around the sides of the cliff – there was only stone and a dead-end cavern for the bandits to run to so they did not need to completely surround the camp. The rest – the heavier fighters – waited for their signal. Bandit sentries, well armed from their spoils but fat with arrogance, began to disappear, quietly, behind the Sautian rocks. Dovev was among the first group, his young body agile and steps quiet. He took care of two of the sentries, slitting their throats with a dagger that he had 'aquired' in Jahuar. It's sharp, leaf-shaped blade did it's job silently and well, and Dovev suspected that it might have poison lingering on it. Poison or not, it worked well enough, and he dragged the bodies into hiding spaces to keep them from prying eyes.
One of his stealthy compatriots finally made the signal, a loud braying cry like a capramel in heat, and the warriors at the gate surged forward like a storm-wrought wave. He heard the unprepared bandit's cries as the warriors crashed onto them. The orders were to kill all of the bandits and take no prisoners. It seemed extreme to Dovev, but he did not know the full story of these bandits and he never questioned his orders. If that was the mission, he would do it.
So, as the bandits focused on their front, he and the others that had hidden there attacked the bandits from their flanks. Dovev's polished sword glittered and danced, gleaming as it cut into surprised bandits. The assembled warriors had planned the assault well – the bandits numbers thinned with every moment, and it was clear which side victory favored. There was panic in the bandit's eyes – they knew they were lost. A few tried to break and run, but Dovev's blade caught one of them easily. His blade came away from the bandit's body with a soft, wet sound, and as he turned to face a new target he saw a heavily ornamented bandit slipping onto a small mountain path just beyond the cavern. It was a man, Ice tribe by his skin, and he had many trophies along his belt and coat. He also carried a bundle. He was, Dovev realized, getting away.
Dovev knew an opportunity when he saw it. He extricated himself from the fighting and, with a call to alert the others to the escape, followed the man onto the path. Dovev's feet were not used to rocks and crags and were bruised from his travels with Teslaron and the terrain they had traversed. The path was uncleared and narrow, his feet aching with every hurried step he took. If he faltered, he would fall behind or, worse, fall to his death. But he could see the bandit ahead of him, and he could see that he was having trouble traversing the path as well... It was his bundle that hindered him.
How foolish Dovev thought, managing to inch closer, bit by bit, in his pursuit. The bandit could get away with his life easily, if he would only throw the bundle to the side. Was this man so blinded with greed that he would trade treasure for his own life? Not even Dovev would be so foolish, and he valued currency highly. Surviving another day was worth far more than that.
The man knew that Dovev followed him. Dovev could see his yellow eyes, wide with terror with every glance back at him. Finally, Dovev was close enough to risk raising his sword. A single blow would end the man's life and stop their chase. A single blow from Dovev's blade – at this range, with this narrow path, it was impossible to miss – and Dovev would have his rewards and, likely, considering the man's ornamentation, significant prestige.
“No! Wait!” the man stopped and turned, gasping, “Don't kill me!”
Dovev hesitated, though he knew it was a terrible idea to do so. It was unexpected behavior from such a cowardly man – he had expected him to keep running until he cut him down from behind. “Why?” Dovev asked, “This one is being paid to leave no survivors.”
“I understand, I do...” babbled the bandit, “But please, let me go. I won't do any harm, I promise...”
Dovev's heart leapt as the bundle moved gently, like a larvae, and began to burble.
The man immediately attended to it, unwrapping it somewhat as he pressed it close and rocked it. “Shh... shh, Jessae. It's okay. It'll be okay.” he looked at Dovev pleadingly, “Please... She's my daughter, only a baby, I just want to have a life with her. It can't be here, not anymore, but I'll take anywhere, anywhere with her. Just, please, let us live...”
Dovev hesitated, his arm lowering. This was an unprecedented situation, an unplanned for circumstance. He had never had to do anything where a baby was involved, had never been trained for such a situation or even with the basics of how to care for a child. What should he do? Did 'no survivors' apply to children, too?
“Please... You like money?” the man's eyes brightened hopefully, “Trade goods? I'll... Yes! I'll tell you where our treasure is! I hid it so that we could find it later and so other bandits didn't steal it! We have so much treasure, so much... maps... you name it! Anything that b***h elder would pay you and... and more besides! It's...” he held his daughter closer to him. “It's a good deal! Just promise to let us live. Put your sword down, and I'll give you the directions...” he smiled a small, shaky, hopeful smile. “I promise, on my honor, not to back down on my deal. We've... we've some honor, you know? I just... I don't care about the treasure. Just my Jessae. Just my girl. I want to go... Let me go?”
Dovev thought about it for a moment. On the one hand, the man was being as truthful as a bandit could be - There was no guarantee that Dovev wouldn't be stabbed in the back, but he had been employed by untrustworthy people before, and the man was certainly offering a hefty deal. If it was a big treasure, it would be well worth the risk of being found out or of being betrayed. The elder's orders had, however, been clear: No survivors. Kill any bandits there. If she had said 'kill any you see', then Dovev could have happily found a loophole and covered his eyes to try to get both payments and perhaps weather the storm of anger that would follow. However... he could hear shouts and footsteps from the path behind him, signs that his allies were catching up to him and coming this way. They would be here soon, and if he was seen making a deal with a bandit, and seen to let him go, he and thus Teslaron as well could be in serious danger of reprisal. He could not do that.
It was a hard choice... but Dovev only had a few minutes before it would be made pointless by the presence of others, and so he made it. “This one makes his apologies.” Dovev said, lifting the sword again and slicing in front of him. The bandit dodged, the blade only slicing a shallow gash in the skin of his face. “But your offer is refused.”
“Then I'll kill you!” the man screamed, his eyes desperate, his blade appearing in his hand as if magicked there - Dovev hadn't even seen him draw it. “I'll kill you first!”
Dovev shut down all but the awareness he would need for the fight. He knew where the edge of the path was, where the stony cliff was, where the man was moving, and where his sword was. He slashed at the man, bringing his sword back up as he felt the blade fail to connect. On its upswing, it did – he felt the dragging sensation of metal going through leather and flesh – but not without a price. He felt the dagger blade burn as it slashed into his side, hissing with pain as he brought his sword back for another attack.
Dovev did not see that the man's hand and dagger were now red with his blood. He did not hear the baby's crying. He only saw the man's muscles as the bandit tensed for another charge, and he reacted. His blade cut down the man's chest, then across his abdomen, then back up towards his neck, the movements mechanical and rehearsed from many long and painful practice sessions.
His wound screamed at him in insistent pain as the bandit staggered back. He held his daughter desperately, his eyes burning with desperate ferocity. Their yellow gleam met Dovev's, and Dovev knew that that ferocity was what was keeping the bandit alive. That desperation, that willingness to fight to the death for something he believed in... Dovev almost envied him. With some effort, Dovev brought his sword back up to an offense position and advanced.
The bandit howled a curse and brandished the dagger. “Last chance!” he gasped, “Let me go!” But Dovev could see the treachery in the man's eyes, and could hear the approach of his allies. The deal was off the table now, and Dovev had no choice but to finish what he had started.
“No.” he said simply, making his final sword cut. Pain erupted in his shoulder, the dagger blooming like a dark stalk from a dripping, red wound. Dovev dropped his sword, half collapsing to the stone as he watched the man stagger back The bandit clung to his bundle, his foot sinking through the air of the cliff behind him. His mouth widened in terrible surprise as he fell back... and fell. His scream echoed in the mountains around them, as did the final thud of his landing.
It was over.
Dovev tore the dagger from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground, holding the wound as he tentatively peered over the edge. The bandit leader lay far below, his body broken and battered by rocks and bloodied by sword wounds. Dovev watched him as the wound in his shoulder became worryingly numb and as the presence of people became palpable around him. The man did not move. Neither did his bundle. They were dead.
“Hey! Fin-boy!”
Dovev looked up at the wind man and nodded. He picked up his sword with some effort and sheathed it – he would have to clean both sheathe and sword later, but he could not carry the naked weapon in this state. “Is it finished?” he asked.
“All of those rat's are dead.” the man peered over the edge, “And you got the king rat! Good job! Granny will get you an extra bonus for this!” Dovev was helped up, aware that someone else had his sword. “Lets get you back to the village... you know...” the wind tribsman said, nodding appreciatively, “You Matorians aren't so bad.”
“Thank you.” Dovev murmured, letting himself be carried against his wooziness. He wasn't so sure.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2015 9:33 pm
Dovev's wounds – and the poison that accompanied them – were attended to, and he had managed to barter for a sizable reward well worth his trouble. There was enough for him - and Teslaron by extension - to be comparatively comfortable for a while yet.
Dovev sat in the hut provided for him by the grateful locals, cleaning the blood from his sword. It had taken forever to clean the sheathe, but it was a necessary duty and he had little else to attend to. It desperately needed the care, and his wounds meant that he desperately needed rest. They would not, after all, heal with activity.
As he cleaned, Dovev thought about how he had earned these rewards; this lodging, the welcome supplies, the always useful currency, and a full belly to boot. The bandits, he knew, were far from innocent. They had murdered, raided, and stolen. Dovev had heard other stories too – of families broken and children abducted to terrible, far off fates. The bandits had earned their lot, and Dovev had earned his reward, but...
That bundle haunted him.
It had been white and wiggling like a Jahuaran larvae, squealing and burbling innocently at the death all around it. It had had no part in any of this. And it was dead.
She Dovev corrected, the bundle had been a she. A baby girl, not even old enough to be a youngling, dead from the fall at the bottom of the cliff. Dovev was grateful that it had not been from his own sword, that he had not cut that young skin, that her blood did not stain his blade. But her death stained him just the same. Could he have grabbed her before she fell? Taken the bundle from the man's arms and done... what? Dovev didn't know.
Dovev had never been involved in a child's death before. That was the one thing that his teacher had not forced him to do – to kill another like him. He had heard whispers that others trained their bodyguards and gladiators in such a way, set them against other children and made them kill. Only the strongest and most broken survived that training, he had heard. But that had never been him. It had not been his teacher's way. The only child he had ever had to hurt was himself. She had worked himself until his body ached. She had had him shed his own blood. She had beaten him until the tears stopped, and praised him for every tear not shed. This was new, and Dovev did not like it.
He finished cleaning the blade and began to work on the hilt, clearing away the red of blood and the other fluids that came with killing a man. Men, plural: he did not know how many he had killed today. He needed to wet his rag to clear away the dried blood on the hilt, and he tried put the infant out of his mind. He'd done his job, he'd killed the bandit. The mission should not bother him. The consequences should not bother him. Dovev did not want any of it to bother him.
But, as he finished cleaning his sword and went over it with preserving oil, it did bother him; it bothered him a lot. Dovev wished that he hadn't looked over the edge. He knew that the stillness of the bundle would linger in his dreams, haunting him with its immobility.
He wished he could sheathe the memory as easily as he sheathed his cleaned sword, could lay it down as easily as he laid back on the comfortable sleeping mat, could shut it down as easily as he closed his eyes, but he could not. On the back of his eyelids, the small shape lingered, pitiful and white. Dovev put his arm over his eyes to block out the light and mar the shape, but the man's eyes gleamed back at him in its stead, blazing with that final ferocious, desperate passion. That, too, would haunt him.
But in the end, he had done his job... He had done it and he had done it well and had been paid. He should not have to pay a price for his competance. But he would – he could feel a dark dread coming along with his impending sleep. He knew that he would soon see, in his troubled dreams, that little white shape that would never move again.
It was a price that he would pay. For how long, he did not know. He just hoped that he had gotten something worthwhile in exchange...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 13, 2015 9:34 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2015 9:11 am
Class Quest Result
Pass!
Dovev has passed and received a rank of Swordsman!
Congratulations Dovev!
DraconicFeline For interesting choices and introspection, Dovev may choose 1 Fairground item. Please PM Suhuba with your choice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
