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 Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2011 1:13 am
Guiles rose with the sun and a faint smile on his face. It was going to be a good day- he could tell. He strode from his room after dressing and casually made way to the first floor. The inn had that low morning murmur as people prepared their preparations and slowly roused themselves for work or travel or- for some lucky folks- play. Already he could hear the kitchen cooking up breakfast. A few people milled about the tables, speaking in soft voices or sitting alone and contemplating the day ahead. There was a lone barmaid serving the few patrons. Guiles knew for sure her name was Ida; everything else he knew was purely rumor... but none of it was pretty.
Greenbrook did not join them but instead made for the door and the brisk morning air beyond. He was stopped short by the sudden arrival of one Jack Magnus. The door burst forth and the fellow stumbled in, looking lost despite all his efforts.
"Damn! I can't believe I got lost. This is one confusing town..." He looked up to see a man before him, not five paces away. Jack could feel a leader's presence in the man, even if he really didn't look like the part. Without hesitation he approached Guiles and asked plainly, "I'm looking for a person called Guiles Greenbrook. Do you know of him?"
This brought a smile to the aging man's face. "I'm the very one, actually." He held out his arms to either side, as though fully presenting himself. "If you'll have a seat, we can attend to whatever business it is you have." With one arm he gestured to a chair while placing himself in another.
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Posted: Wed Jun 01, 2011 6:03 pm
Sunlight streamed through the shuttered window of Rasven's room as it slowly rose in the morning sky. Rasven woke and sat up, stretching out a bit, and letting his eyes adjust to the bright light. Sarin was still asleep on the headboard of Rasven's bed, his head tucked under his wing as he snoozed on. Quietly, Rasven rose from the bed and donned his clothing, and crossed to the window. He opened it to let the light in more directly, and saw a beautiful coastline. His companion woke, and tweeted a hello to Rasven. Smiling, He moved back to the bed and stroked the neck of the magestic bird.
Good morning, my dear friend. Care to join me downstairs for a bit of breakfast? Rasven asked, as he offered his left arm, which now had his padded bracer adorning it. Sarin happily took the proffered arm. Rasven picked up his satchel, and together they walked downstairs into the dining area, also know as the bar, tavern, what have you. Rasven saw Guiles speaking with someone that he hadn't met during their discussion the night prior. Walking up to Guiles, he greeted him, while pulling a cracker from his satchel, and giving it to Sarin.
well met, and good morning Guiles. I trust your night wasrather restful?
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 2:35 pm
Last night had been long. It was a young'n who wanted to get his money's worth all night. Ida had eventually passed out on the boy, the previous day's work overcoming her more than his stamina. Still she was tired as she lacked her usual few hours of sleep, and moderately sore. She never said the boy was skilled. None of it showed in her mien, merely a kind smile and occasional wink to the patrons who were up early.
Her steps were light for her heavy frame as she weaved through the tables, setting down the usual for the group of customers before her. It was the favorite of the area, an à l'espagnole* omelet. From across the room, seemingly leaving without a bite, she spotted the man she'd heard whispered about. Guiles was his name, and if she believed the rumors, he was a seditious leader, hopeful for companions to help overthrow the false king. Though she worried little for any king or other person, she cared for herself; her safety and eventual freedom. Thoughts of leaving her verboten, but that didn't keep her from having them. Never had she inhered before. Something was always separating her from others. The mere idea of joining a group, let alone a synod where they would care for her opinion was...impossible. Nothing about a rebellion said her thoughts would be important. What he wanted was arms, cannon fodder or the like. She was assiduous about her safety, besides her moonlit profession, so she refused to grow hopeful.
Nearing the man, as his companion juxtaposed him, it became apparent the age differences between the two. This leader did not merely have experience on his side, he was old, probably twice her age. Less than her own for sure, the boy was probably as young as the one last night. Each was a lurid reminder of her own, ever increasing age. Nonetheless, a smile welcomed both as she greeted them, "'Morning honeys, what can I get cha to start the day?" Thankfully, she was graced with a welcoming aura, probably the only reason she was kept by the barkeep as she was far from pretty, but still it worked well enough to give her more jobs later.
*with tomatoes, peppers, onions and garlic; Spanish cooking.
((If you edit mine, can you make the changes in red so I know what you fixed?))
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 6:46 pm
Angelo yawned as he walked into the tavern area. The night had been unkind, nightmares kept him awake. He feared being unable to keep the others safe, and was worried about more people joining the group-unless another could cast the powerful white magic, any deaths in the group were his responsibility. But he shook such thoughts from his mind. The mind was his ultimate weapon, and sheer belief in his power could save countless others.
He took a seat near the door, in the corner close by. He kept his back to the wall and his eyes wide open. The first way to stop others from dying was to stop whoever wished 'em harm in the first place.
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Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 9:57 pm
"My, my!" Guiles looked at all the folks gathering about. "Before you get on with whatever that may be, let me introduce a few." He gestured first to Rasven. "This fine fellow's a Ranger who's decided to join my cause, as I imagine that's how you heard my name. And over here," the rebel leader gestured to the solitary man in the corner, "is Angelo, and thus far the only White Mage to join my cause. And this," he spun to face Ida fully, "Is the barmaid Ida who's been trying to convince herself to join our cause. I'll have just a water. Anything these folks order is on me." His gesticulation included Jack Magnus, despite not knowing whether or not he intended to enlist. His age-old smile never left his face.
Now with a good deal of the introductions out of the way, he let them place their orders, and spoke to Jack again. "Now, what was it you were wanting?"
At just that moment yet another sturdy looking individual thrust her way through the inn's front door. She was clearly a traveler and a warrior, and Guiles eyes seemed to glint as he considered this newest prospect. Yes, he thought, This WILL work. At this rate we'll have a marching army in a week.
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Posted: Sat Jun 04, 2011 11:58 am
Diane pushed open the door to the inn, her boots were dusty from the ride in to the small town. It had been a long ride and Diane was glad to get off the horse. She turned her head towards the diverse group of travelers around an old man. With a smirk, she strode forward, her pants made a swishing sound. "Are you Guiles?" Her hands were poised on her hips in hope that this was the man she had been looking for. Her ears were perked for any noise beyond the sounds of the birds outside or the sounds of the villagers outside.
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Posted: Sat Jun 04, 2011 2:38 pm
Angelo scowled. More people. More lives in his hands. He was nowhere near the healer his brother was-his brother was the Master who had taught him what he knew! Granted, he had grown stronger throughout his travels, but it wasn't enough. He knew his limits, and one powerful Black Magic spell could force him to push far beyond those limits. Why did it always end up this way? His mind flashed to the few times he had been unable to save someone. And although he knew it was unhealthy, he shoved such thoughts away with all his mental force. Focus was needed. Wandering the memories of yesteryear was a task regulated to nighttime and sleep.
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Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2011 8:29 am
Surprised at the older man's introduction, Ida barked a hearty laugh. It was a full sound, echoing throughout the room, with a surprising hint of beauty. No, it wasn't dainty by any means, it was full, almost meaty but matched her perfectly. Definitely, it got a lot of use. Shaking her head to calm herself, her long locks rippling down her back, she slapped Giles hard on the shoulder, as if inviting him to join her laughter. "Ya sure do know people, don't cha?" A grin spread across her face, as she looked about the group. "Drinks on him, fellows, I betcha he can already guess what ya want."
Though she played the declaration off as a joke, secretly she was taken aback. Her thoughts were her own, not shared by anyone, for there was no one to trust. She'd heard of magic before, but admitted to know nothing of it. In fact, it scared her more than anything. Still a possibility, she tried to keep herself from thinking. This man was a mind reader. If that was so, why didn't he read she wanted it kept quiet from barkeep? Maybe his jovial appearance wasn't as pure as it came off to be. Deciding to watch him closer, she turned her focus to her job. There were enough customers to keep her busy, even if the Barkeep did hear his statement. He wouldn't be able to get at her until night. And if this group was leaving before then... Ida suddenly realized the intelligence in the mind reader's plan. His trick had just forced her to join them. Yes, he was a cunning fox, one that need to be watched carefully.
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2011 11:36 am
Again that great smile. Its breadth expressed genuine gladness and perhaps a slight thrill. "Yes! Yes I am. My, word travels awfully fast around here! Please, let us all step outside. We're taking far too much of their space." While it was true there was a great cluster forming around Mr. Greenbrook, it was hardly an inconvenience. It was still early morning and very few patrons were present. Even so, Guiles led them all outside and a short distance down the hard-packed dirt road.
After a quick and silent headcount, he spoke again. "I'm aware you all have questions, especially those of you that have only just found me. I'm going to do my best to cover it all right now. Yes, I plan to march on the capital. That is perhaps the only non-negotiable part of my plans. If you choose to join me, then I ask that you look upon me as a mentor and also your Captain. I run a tight ship, and I won't quarter disagreeable fools. If you do stay, though, expect a mercenary's pay and a marching soldier's chores. Also--" Here the old man cut himself off as a troop of what could only be described as grungy mercenaries plodded into the inn. He took a deep breath as he considered this turn of events. Absentmindedly he was biting his lower lip as his ears strained for sounds of trouble.
A chorus of surprised shouts emanated from the inn. "Your first test, my friends, will be a rescue mission it seems. Come with me!" His strides to the door were long and quick. He flung the door open with more strength than anyone would have anticipated Guiles to possess. Within the dining area stood the twelve mercenaries encircling the kitchen entrance. One voice rang out over all the low chatter of his brethren.
"I don't think you're listening to me, old man!" This was directed at the owner and barkeeper. "We've been quelling a rebellion on the south coast. Five days of non-stop fighting, then six hours to pack up and leave. Four days we marched, and now we're here to the first place with a proper bed and you have the audacity to charge us!? When we've been fighting for your safety? I mean, it would have been one thing to offer us half price, but FULL PRICE!?"
Guiles Greenbrook had heard-- "ENOUGH!" His voice bellowed. "You don't seem to be working in the defense of these people now, sir, so you I think we're all finding it rather hard to believe you. Perhaps if you'd calm down and barter like civil folk you could--"
"Excuse me?" Interrupted the threatening mercenary. He also happened to be the largest and- Guiles figured- the leader of this sorry band. "Soldiers of the Throne needn't listen to the advice of old drunk beggars." As the rest of Guiles's ragtag bunch piled in, an idea burst to life in the mercenary's mind. "Oh, I see. I see what's going on here." And he drew his sword. His comrades followed suit. "These are members of the rebellion! That means a bounty, boys!"
This wasn't going to be any good. Guiles didn't have a weapon, for starters. Furthermore the room was cramped and less than ideal for a fight. Tables and chairs cluttered up the space and there was only room for one man to pass between any two tables. Still, it made the mercenaries' numeric advantage moot- they could be funneled into one-on-one combat. Any second now, things would break into chaos.
((Sorry for the delay. Work consumed my soul for a bit. I'll be extending the deadline for the APE again, and combat is obviously very close at hand. So let's get to posting again!))
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2011 3:35 pm
It is often said that curiosity killed the cat, but less known is the final phrase of said statement, satisfaction brought him back. A curios phrase often used in its half state to either scorn or lecture a person for sticking their nose where it did not belong. In this case the ladder of the phrase proved to be the deciding factor as from outside the small inn's window a pair of eyes watched from behind a mask. Those same eyes had watched for a full day and now on too the morning the movements of one old man. Watching and listening the best the pair of ears that shared the same head with those eyes could make out and interrupt.
Words such as rebellion, revolution, and uprising had been used a time or two. Not something most people liked to hear but the last day had produced a fine collection of people who did not follow the idea of most people. Also the fact that the words spoken by the old man rang true in many a ear helped in no small feat.
For a moment it had seemed as if the old man would take his rag tag band of wannabe rebels and go off to make themselves a little club house. That idea, while comical in nature, was put aside after a group of large mercenaries entered the same inn and began to demand free room and board. About that time the old man returned to hear the babbling of the largest of the brutes talk about fighting for the people. Showing he was not a man to stand by and listen to a bully speak nonsense the old man spoke up and was then joined by his band of followers.
What a sight they all made standing across from each other posturing like roasters in the hen house. To one side a band of grumpy, smelly, and bad tempered mercenaries, and to the other a patch work collaboration of adventurers, journeymen, and self-proclaimed heroes. Honestly it was like something out of a bard's tale.
Two knives sailed through the inn at that moment digging into the wall on the far side. The action no doubt caught the attention of everyone watching the scene with trepidation. Before any words could be spoken about the owner of the now protruding knives a man stood in front of the window, the same window from which those eyes had been watching from yesterday. Standing before everyone were the owners to those eyes a man dressed in white, with a hood, and a odd mask that had the appearance of a white fox.
"I would listen to the old man if I were you sir," his voice was only slightly muffled by his mask but still clear to anyone within ear shot, "Your action are nothing short of barbarism and I cannot stand for such blatant miss use of power. You have one chance to heed the man's warning and become civil or the next time you open your eyes will be from the floor looking up at me."
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Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2011 8:46 pm
A ghost of a smirk ran across Diane's face as entered the inn behind Giles. Her sharp blue eyes surveyed the twelve mercenaries before the group. She didn't recognize them from her encounters with other mercenary groups. Diane's right hand gripped her handle of her sword and drew the steel cutlass with an arch that came down to a point at one of the men's throats. "Do yerself a favor boys, and leave this small village be. You lot don't deserve to be called mercenaries. By the way you are tryin' to git a bounty on us, I'd say yer first timers. I'm gonna show ya how real fighters fight." Diane's tone was strong and intimidating despite the fact that the area was a bit too small for her liking. With her right hand still putting the blade to the enemy. She threw a short sword to Giles, " 'Ere Guiles, fight them off with this." She took a deep breath a readied herself for the fight.
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Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2011 12:44 am
Rasven calmly took in the situation unfolding before him, and started thinking about the possible outcomes. As it were, they were outnumbered, but the ruffian band if mercenaries were vastly out-skilled. Sending Sarin out the window, to remain safe, Rasven positioned himself next to a pitcher of a still steaming liquid, which he could not identify be smell nor sight. Looking around at the others, who appeared to he in control of themselves, then to Guiles, who was downright angry. He didn't move from his position, as there were no other weapons of opportunity conveniently placed near enough to Guiles to get close enough to attempt to calm him. Not that he would try to calm the aging man anyway; Guiles was angry, but he wasnt a fool. Even now, Rasven thought, he was probably thinking about how the brawl would unfold. Just as things were heating up, a pair of silver streaks flashed through the air, missing Rasven by a foot or so, and embedded themselves into a nearby wall. Someone garbed in white strode in after the blades and began calmly, firmly, but threateningly, reasoning with the mercenary leader. Standing back and relaxing a bit more, Rasven didn't know weather or not the merc would stand down. The man didn't seem particularly bright, after all.
I really must invest some time and coin into becoming proficient with a bladed weapon. For time such as this when a bow is impractical. I'll talk to Guiles about it, and see what advice he has to offer about it. the Ranger thought to himself. He tried to imagine trying to learn a whole new weapon, but concluded that at worst, if would simply drain his coin a bit, and at best give him a new challenge, and something that could potentially save his life one day. But at the moment, seeings as he didn't have a weapon of such stature, he would make do with the hot contents of the pitcher, and then the pitcher itself.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2011 2:54 pm
Angelo had spent the last few minutes preparing for something like this-and here it was. He tested the weight of the table he sat at. Someone of his strength could flip it with a bit of effort. He looked around for other items. He grabbed a few empty glasses and placed them on his table. If things got out of hand, he'd send the table flying at those causing the ruckus. the best way to treat wounds is to stop them before they happen... He hoped the mercenary group would stop their attack, but if they didn't, Angelo had his opening attack ready to go.
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Posted: Sun Jun 19, 2011 1:24 pm
The lead mercenary wasn't an idiot. He knew he had to act quickly lest the numbers even out and become problematic. Rather than hang back, he was the first one forward. Four rows, each of three tables, stood between Guiles's ad hoc team and the mercenaries. Two followed their leader toward Greenbrook. Another four rushed White Fox. Three came for Diane and the last two slowly approached Rasven, wary of his position. They would all have a brief period to ready themselves. Angelo was not considered a threat at the time.
Guiles caught the short sword with a small flourish. Mere moments later he engaged the leader. His name was Gadolfo, although this was something Guiles would never learn. Short sword met broadsword, their hilts locking. Gadolfo grinned, confident his youth and training would lend him the advantage. Unfortunately for him, Guiles was both capable and willing to use magic.
Guiles shoved his opponent, separating them, and in that split second drew a circle in the air with one open hand. A purplish-red haze formed, the color of his chi. This is something that varied among all magic users, marking them as individuals even among each other.
Gadolfo's response to Guiles's retreat was to press further, bringing his sword downward. It would have split open the older man's side had he not erected that little six-inch barrier. Because it did exist, however, the blade was repelled, supplying Guiles a brief opening.
Not all the mercenaries were quite so straightforward. Diane was pincered left and right while a third planted a boot on the table before her and leaped over, aiming to strike like a scorpion's tail. His entire body was primed to fall upon her if she did not move.
White Fox was between two tables: one against the wall, and one a short distance apart. Two mercenaries stood at either side of him, and the other pair were across the table, effectively cutting off any means of escape- except the window through which he had so deftly entered.
Rasven was met with a similar encounter, the duo attending him strode to meet him from either side of the table at which he stood.
((For combat, imagine one of your posts occupying about 6-10 seconds of real time. GO!))
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