Welcome to Gaia! ::

Harmony strolled into the city, pulling her cart behind her. She had just had a wonderful transaction and she would soon be able to get a nice bath and a warm bed at her parents home that evening. Walking threw town, she saw a large crowd gathering in front of the inn. She walked up just in time to see a couple of city guards talking to a rather large merchant and two maimed men in the street. While she certainly didn't like the guards being there, crowds were almost always a good thing.

She swiftly set up her cart in front of the inn and pulled out her flute, laying a hat at her feet. Using mesmer, she began to play a lively tune, hoping to attract customers or at least people willing to drop a few zeny for her. The tune seemed to say, Come, come hither. There is nothing so interesting in life as the sound of music playing sweetly in thy ears. Leave your worries behind and come forth.

People slowly began to break away from the crowd and came up to her cart, occasionally leaving a few zeny.
((sorry for such a short post.))

As Dorian made his way through the masses of people he recognized a man up ahead.

Not much more then a boy really, the 5'7 blonde haired theif named Andar cried against an uncaring wall. People walked by as though the boy did not exist and to their eyes...he probably didn't. Dorian had found rather quickly that this city was selfish and greedy. So he felt no guilt at all in stealing. He felt as though it might be a lesson to appreciate their belongings more. He had yet to see someone learn from this so Dorian rationalized that he would continue stealing till they saw the truth.

Lightly sidestepping a woman with hips that swayed more then a snake baited by a snake charmer, Dorian leaned down to the sobbing theif and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. Andar jumped, one hand luching for what Dorian assumed was a hidden dagger, but one sharp slap from the older theif stopped Andar from what would have been a fatal mistake.

"D...Dorian?" Andar said, tears still coursing from his eyes.

"Well if I'm not then the city is in peril. One handsome devil was enough...but two would be far too much for this poor place to handle." Dorian laughed back. Andar didn't laugh...but Dorian didn't expect him to.

"Now what manner of events could bring a rough and tumble theif like you to wail like a babe in plain sight? Did you lose the fair love of your heart? Or did Delim cheat you of your pay again?"

"Delim is dead." Adar gasped out, bringing a fresh flood of tears to his eyes.

"What?" Dorian barked, jovial eyes now a deadly serious glare. "Explain how this is possible...now!"

Adar, with great difficulty related the events of what had occured just a small while before. It started with Delim in a foul mood. That wasn't too odd...Delim was a pessimistic cuss of a man, but a reliable thief. Adar had joined him and his little band of 'profiteers' in hopes that his lifestyle bordering on starvation would be eased. To Delim's credit, he managed just that. Unfortunatly, this day Delim had been forcfully ejected from his mistress's house after a successful affair approaching its two year anniversery. Delim had many failings and two of the greater were his quick temper and his absolute dislike of that which he could not have. Both paired together made a rather volatile situation. Delim had foolishly decided to rob some axe merchant of his merchandise. He failed to judge his adversary correctly. Not only was the merchant sharp as he was fast, but Adar swore that the beast was more hill giant then human. Adar had been the only to escape, Delim went down first...Adar heard him cry out, and Soma went down shortly after. Adar had run till he could no longer feel his legs and only then realized he was crying.

Dorian sighed heavily and gave a comforting pat on Adar's shoulder. In the streets...the men you worked with became as much familyto you as direct bloodline. Adar had lost his leader and friend both in one day...a loss that was obviously ravaging his conscience and emotions.

"T-t-take this," Adar sobbed, handing a bulky bag to Dorian "I w-w-want no part in his anymore-ore-ore. Do what you want with it...I'm g-g-going home."

Dorian sighed as Adar picked himself up and was instantly swallowed by the surging crowd. That boy had shown promise...but this event would ensure he never so much as stole an apple again.

Dorian stood, no longer in such a hurry to get to the chruch, but still on his way. This world was a cruel place....especially to those who were born into poverty. Many would die rather then take up a life of crime and many did. Theivery was the only thing that kept most of the slums alive...a balanced distribution by sleight of hand that kept the poor alive and the rich from becoming too powerful. Thieves weren't neccesarily cruel people. They did what they did to survive and nothing more. Dorian had yet to see a poor man steal something he truly didn't need. Dorian snuck a covert look into the bag. A few battleaxes bound in wire lay at the bottom. Around them lay a few potions, some gil, and a series of scrolls scribbled in a languege Dorian didn't understand. He didn't know about the scrolls...but the axes would sell for a good price, the potions as well.

Dorian made a mental note to drop half the profit off at Adar's house upon completeing his sale...but for now...the promise of warmth once again called to him seductivly.

Presently, Dorian found himself at the steps of the grand church. Wasting no time staring at the construction in awe, Dorian deftly dashed up the steps and into the warm darkness of the church, the brown sack safely tied to his waist by the thick rope.

Dagon stalked past the two women and the male cleric in the road to enter the city. All at once he was overwhelmed by the sheer imensity of it all. It was like some great beast poised here upon the land. He also realized how very out of place his clothing looked. His ragged appearence had more the label of a begger then a proper mercenary. It was lucky that he still had his second outfit reasonably untouched by the elements stored away in his pack.

His steel boots clanged as they hit cobblestone, sending a great clatter that had many irritable faces turning his way. No matter how irritated the people were however, none appraoched this wild eyed warrior with an old katana bouncing at his waist.

He had no sooner taken a few steps into the city when he smelled blood. He dared not engage in conversation, his appearence alone would strike most of these fools dumb. Instead he listened as he walked around the perimeter of the accident.

So...thieves and an axe weilding merchant...interesting. Ironically enough, Dagon had heard of this man. A ponderous mass of muscle and salesmanship, Talaris Tellamon Shuran was exalted for his elemental axes in many circles of bounty hunters and mercenaries across the land. Being a swordsman, Dagon never had much to do with him...but he was impressed.

Rumor had it that once this merchant had held off twenty men while his supplies were pulled into the walled city just over a hill. Only when his merchandise was safe did Talaris promptly turn and leaping on a horse, galloped away.

Of course such things were legends...likely over embellished for more of an entertainment value in taverns. Still...every story had a grain of truth to it and evena grain of tuth was an impressive feat for a merchant of all people.

As Dagon moved on, the crowd parted...not wanting to get in the way of a man more beastial then human. It was when teh crowd parted that Dagon caught sight of the merchant himself. He was as large as the rumors put him at...larger perhaps. Only a fool would mistake that hulking giant for a harmless merchant. That man was a warrior as much as he was a seller.

Most merchants Dagon had met were cowering things with beady eyes and bad breath. They reminded him often of kaniving rodents, but their services were essential and as of yet Dagon had not given rise against them.

But this man...this man was different. Every feature spoke of strength and haughtieness...now THIS was a merchant.

Dagon allowed himself a dark grin, perhaps even more intimidating then his expressionless visage and then turned. There was no use in admiring the merchant anymore...the action had ended before Dagon had seen been a part of it. Thus so, more work would have to be found.

The dark haired warrior prowled toward the inn...it was usually here that the most interesting and profitable missions could be ascertained.

Dagon turned as the merchant called to him, throwing back his mess of untamed hair to look upon he who addressed him fully...as proper respect dictated. Honestly the merchant's proposition intrigued him more then a little.

Work would be hard to find alone...mercenaries were bought by the bushel...not individually sought out. Perhaps if he consented to accompany the hulking giant, good fortune would shine upon their combined effort and Dagon would be able to finally afford some newer garments. The condition of his current clothes was far from repairable.

Dagon realized half way through that inflection that, while he had set eyes upon the merchant before him, he had not spoken. His natural features suggested a permanent scowl and Dagon fought to remedy the situation.

His slanted grey eyes scrutinized the merchant and the girl before he replied, quietly, his voice no more then a tired whisper. Dagon never had to speak loudly. He was either heard or not. Those that chose not to listen usually lost their ears. Dagon saw it as a justifiable action. They were not using them and so they did not need them.

"Your logic is sound Talaris," Dagon began, making no illusion that he did not know the giant's name. "I am new to this place and work would surely be hard to find. Reputations are not dogs to follow at our heels...here we are no more then common once more...Well...till your 'demonstration' that is." He chuckled darkly. The man that had recently been parted of rather important appendages was a theif.

A theif was in many ways like a bandit...and it was THEM that Dagon would kill free of charge. Dagon grew silent for a moment as he contemplated the giant's last statement.

"Met before? Perhaps...you seem familiar with me and I with you. It is likely we have fought for or against each other in some long past battle...as men able to efficiently weild their weapons were as sought after as gold. I do remember hearing a few of your more legendary exploits in taverns but a specific meeting is something I do not quite remember."

Dagon approached the bear-like merchant and averted his eyes for a moment, giving a cursory glance of the wounded bow woman and then snapping his eyes back up to the giant.

"But I should be honest Talaris, the word you caught me at was profit. Whomever holds the coin holds my allegiance...it is the mercenary code. If there is profit to be found by a mutual partnership then I thank the fates that I have fallen into such good company so soon."

Dorian reclined in a corner pew of the massive church, enjoying the warm air the religious sanctuary had to offer. For the third time he reached into the bag Adar had given him and fished out a scroll. The writing was just as indeciperhable as before and sighing, Dorian let it drop back into the bag. He couldn't shake the feeling that these scrolls were the most valuable thing in the bag...but no customer would by a parchment of scribbles if they didn't know what it woul do. Nor could Dorian display them in hopes that someone would be able to read the runes for fear that an angry giant merchant would descend upon him. Dorian shook his head slowly...the riddle of how to get profit from these scrolls was getting more complicated by the minute.

A harsh whispering sharply jolted Dorian from his musings. Due to the cavernus size of the cathedral, echoes traveled far. The whispering seemed to be emanating from a priest and an acolyte having some silent arguement toward the head of the church. The acolyte, an imperious looking woman with straight blond hair and glaring eyes was gesturing angrily at Dorian. The priest was doing his best to calm the woman...but he was obviously meek and outclassed. Dorian took this as a godsent sign that his stay in relative comfort was reaching an end. Quietly, he stood and, bowing with such frivolity that the acolyte's eyes nearly exploded in flame, walked out as quickly as he could without completely running.

"Whomever holds the coin, hunh?" Talaris stroked his beard in mock thought, "That'd be me in this case. Plus, there's bound to me more where I'm planning to go. Looks like we've 'assembled a party' as they say. Alisia...Dagon...what say you to a treasure hunt?"

His bushy brows quirked at his re-discovery of the fighter's name. His memory was not what it used to be, but it wasn't amnesia by any stretch of the word. Talaris' mind was just so full of other things (prices, tactics, trade routes) that titles had become less important. Alisia and Dagon, though, he'd make an effort not to forget those names.

"Before I explain the details, here you are miss Alisia." Talaris gave the girl a bottle of antibiotic salve and some bandages. "I can tell you do not trust a man as large as I to apply that to you, and I understand. A giant hairy merchant wielding an axe isn't the most trustworthy sight." Talaris gave Alisia a moment to heal herself, then continued.

"I have a map here, printed on it is the location of some ruins. The history of which I'm not certain, but what I am certain of is there'll be treasure, and lots of it. Danger too, but I'm confident in our combined strength. Splitting rewards three ways has never been my 'thing'...until now."

Talaris had never expected any of this to happen. Thief attacks and finding these two, not to mention almost losing all of his merchandise! He remembered that there was still one sack worth missing and at this point didn't care. With Alisia and Dagon the merchant could more than make up for it in the ruins. What he had purposely failed to mentioned was the fact that their goal was the same place where Talaris' father had last been seen.

He didn't think his father dead, Talaris dreaded something far worse. The merchant had set his feelings aside for this adventure, however, for better or worse. Retrieving the treasure was the primary concern, finding his father (or the corpse) was just another thing to do.

In spite of anything concerning his family, Talaris kept his emotions in check. Anger was a dangerous thing, especially if a man with Talaris' size and strength was the medium.

Dagon nodded thougtfully as he considered his options. There was something the merchant wasn't letting on. In Dagon's line of work, no money was as easily found as Talaris was boasting. An ancient ruin with hordes of unfound treasure...amazing no one had found it till now...and what of the map? How did Talaris come to possess it. If the man he bought, stole, or looted it from had once possessed it...why did he not attempt to claim the treasure?

Unfortunatly, it was also a custom not to question he who holds the coin. The almighty Zeny was the only god a mercenary needed. While some dieties sat about fabled thrones of clouds and occasionally intervened in the lives of their faithful, Dagon's god literally controlled society. All in all...it wasn't a bad god to follow.

Still...every aspect of the upcoming 'adventure' spoke of hidden secrets and danger abound...

"You have yourself a mercenary Talaris, Dagon Adaios at your service." Dagon gruffly spoke, giving a rusty bow. Again, he payed little attention to the woman. In all his experience, he had come to the decision that women did not belong on the battlefield. Their vast and uncontrollable emotions and the very fact that their body was unsuited for combat was a liability in pitched melee battles. Too many women with stars in their eyes and thoughts of glory at the end of their blade had fallen.

More oft then not it had been because of some ridiculous connection they had formed with another mercenary...a love for lack of a better word. This 'love' and 'caring' caused a complete abandonment of all reason. Even if the one they cared about was beheaded, filleted, and tossed into a pit of ravenous lions...they would still bounce into that pit heedless of danger with tears blutting their vision and rage destorying careful aim and precise slashes.

Dagon saw it more a disease then an emotion and remembered to thank his own luck for not miring him in such a devilish trap.

Women belonged at home with children...not out shooting trading blow for blow. Yet...Talaris held the coin and Dagon would have to begrudginly accept that he would be fighting alongside what he considered a weak link in human evolution.

He would never vocalize this however...society screamed that hitting a girl was ultimate taboo and woman became hysterical at teven the slightest insult...thus Dagon would remain pensive and hope that whatever fight was to come...that the woman would be knocked out kick and efficiently so the MEN could fight the battle they were meant to.
((Wow...didn't mean for him to turn out sexist...but I guess he is! This should be more then a little entertaining.))

((belated first post))

Yuki traveled north along the road as the city of Prontera grew closer. From this distance he could hear the commotion of the city's numerous residents. he was now close enough that he could clearly see the guards at the city's main gate. Various people were coming and going from the city limits as the guards made sure nothing was suspicious. Yuki approaches one of the guards and flashed a small metallic emblem, the seal of the Brotherhood of the Church and the Chivalrous. The guard merely nodded and Yuki entered the vast expanses of the capital. About halfway between the gate and the center of town was a busy intersection. legend road cut through the main thorough-fare of the city and the cart and pedestrian traffic was massive. On the corner to his left, very close to the market district (and for good reason) was the Peace Station. This is where the city guard conglomerated and planned. The front wall was always plastered with overlapping warrants for arrest and wanted posters promising great rewards. As it was around lunch time, the place was fairly empty. Yuki's onw stomach growled a little. He quickly retrieved an apple from his satchel and bit into it. His whistle having been wetted, he more closely examined the crude drawings and descriptions of the criminals advertised. None were especially difficult tragtes, being petty pickpockets and thieves. One disheveled paper was barely legible. As Yuki went to grab it for a closer look, it broke free from its nail and fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, he attempted to discern the identity, crime, and reward of this particular advertisement. The paper was mud stained and had also been bleached by the sun. Clearly whomever this poster described was a long-standing fellon. A few good citizens entered the peace Station with tied-up vagabonds in tow. After a few moment a guard emerged and tore down a few papers. Crumpling them up, he craned a look at the warrant in Yuki's hand.

"Having a hard time reading that, eh? We post up a new one for that guy every few months, but nobody can ever seem to catch him," the guard commented.

Yuki acknowledged the guard's presence and replied, "As is plainly seen. Who is this man anyway?"

The guard sighed as if recounting a memory of old, "He's Troh Natob. That dastardly fellow is a ruthless ganglord. He started off as a simple cloak and dagger case, but soon snowballed into organized crime. Nobody can even get close to him. It's believed that he resides somewhere in one of the dank crime-infested alleyways off of the market district."

Yuki took it all in quietly and responeded, "What's his head worth?"

Somewhat suprised and also expecting it, the guard answered, "2,000 zeny. If you're thinking of chasing after him, I must warn you that he and his cohorts are not to be trifled with. Many adventurers such as yourself hoping to make fast money have entered into those claustrophobic alleys. I've never seen a one come back." Pausing and studying Yuki's expression, the guard continued, "Don't take my words lightly now. I myself have gone after Troh and his henchmen. His croneys alone are a match for skilled fighters. We formed expedition of guards to catch him. It was our last great attempt at nabbing him. Sadly, few of us survived."

Yuki narrowed his eyes and spoke, "I'm an experienced bounty hunter; I think I can handle it. Thank you for your consideration, though. I will take it into account during my search. Is there any more information you could offer me?"

The guard scratched his head and toom the paper from Yuki. He shook his head and crumpled it up, speaking "We'll need to make a new on for troh soon since this one is in such disrepair. Ad for more information-" The guard cut off his words as shouts eminated from the station. One of the criminals darted out the door, running headlong into the guard. The other dodged the guard and sprinted beyond him. The guard blunted the man at his feet with his mace and chased after the other man, an apology trailing off in the wind. Both vigilantes came to the doorway, one grabbing the unconcious theif, the other strainign his eyes to see if the guard caught the escapee or not.

With a smug and solemn look on his face, Yuki responded to the guards last words, "Don't bother making up another poster. I'll be done with him soon enough." He turned away and entered the market district.