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RRP~ Random Role Play
.::Gitlairn Village::.

**This is a random city thread, tho connected to the psuedo tourney thread TMJ is supposed to be working on. I'm going on the idea of it being a way to introduce the characters into the plotline that will be that RP whenever it does get set up. The tourney to be WILL be an RP the entire way throughout. So this thread will be about getting your character close enough to somehow be 'invited' wink to the complex where the tourney will take place**

Disclaimer: TMJ gave me jack to go on, so everything is subject to change until he pulls his act together and decides on something, this is mostly my take on what info he gave me...ie like 4 sentences worth. sweatdrop rolleyes

In one of the forgotten corners of Gaia, lies a little even less remebered town. That town is Gitlairn Village, whose only claim to fame, or rather infamy, is the island right off it's shores. It's a relatively small island, perhaps 20 miles across, but that is not what's notable about the island. It's what takes place there that is so remarkable. Tournaments....that decide the strongest and most capable of fighters. Headed all by a half demon by the name of Sammuel, who delights in exploiting those around him,wether stronger or weaker, bending them to his will by whatever means necessary.

Now this half demon is a very rich man and delights in bloodthirtsy pastimes as much as any of the 'clients' he entertains. Large sums of gold are placed on these tournaments and the 'house' is always stacked in his favor. However there is no risk if he is guarenteed the outcome so he brings in unknown fighters to play his games for him. That is the purpose of the village, for fighters to gather and thin from themesleves those worthy to try and fight for their survival and perchance to fulfill their dreams, whatever those might be.

arrow The Docks

Onto the topic at hand, Gitlairn Village....It is a small remote town. Nothing really of note tho we shall see what we can spy as we trek through the tiny village. Crossing the river of sea water from Sammuel's island complex, the first thing one comes across is obviously the piers. It is a sea port after all. Filling said ports are the usual things, brothels, bars and sailing companies. The general riffraff, pickpockets and thieves. Lightskirts who would easily kill you as screw you, Merchant sharks who loan money to sailors for exhorbant fees and returns on loads of boats. On this section of land there are few things of note, they are as follows.

1. Morgan's Tavern- where sailors on shore leave tend to gather whenever they aren't visiting the brothels. Not for the faint of heart in the least. Averages 4 large bar fights a night.
2. Dockside Inn- pretty much as the name says, can be paid for by the hour or by the night, depending on your 'needs' situated about 2 doors down from Morgan's Tavern and is run by Morgan's wife.
3. A healer's clinic- where sick sailors and whores get treated, non too gently I might add, and your pockets will lighten and not just from the fees.....

Other things of note, there is a noticable lack of authority figures in this section of town. You are not just going to run across a constable. Other than that , it's every portside dock area in the world, dirty , dingy and pretty much disgusting.

arrow Merchant's Quarter

Beyond the docks and ports, you come to the marketplace. Everything imaginable is sold here. From simple trinkets and jewelry, to weapons, to women, slaves and property. If you want it , it can most likely be purchased here. Again not the most lawful of places but then again would I say 'anything ' if it was entirely legal?

There are the usual market stalls for trinkets and cloth, weapons and more. Then in the hidden alleys and lost corners a truly determined seeker can find magic items, a pleasure slave or even a 'forged' invitation wink . No one of course would know if this are effective enough as no one ever sees anyone who goes into the 'tourney'.

Rumors and gossip abound. Some say there is no tournament, that Sammuel simply uses the 'fighters' for some demonic arcane ritual. Others say that the 'tourney' is only to appease the 'bloodlust' of his 'pet', 'Kitten'. So many rumors abound, but still they do not keep the so called 'warriors' from coming for whatever reason they are drawn here.

Of note are a few places here as well...

1. Mrs. Marple's Home for Wayward Ladies- a large manse situated well within the borders of the merchant quarter. The only give away as to it's identity is a small discreet sign on the door 'MMHWL' Definetly 'ladies' who are only of the highest quality.
2. St. Jude Chapel- on the edge of the Merchant's quarter and docks resides a small yet elaborate chapel. It is here that many of the to be fighters stop and pray for their victory, for even the most proud of warriors is often just a bit supersticious.

Most everything else in the village is housing and the like, nothing note worthy really (well that and I'm feeling a bit lazy sweatdrop ). Not even a mayor in the town. Local law only patrols the merchant's quarters and usually will do nothing unless asked to intercede directly. Or if property damage is done.

Enter Flavor Test.....just because ninja

Random Points to note..... xd

All 'owned' women were a choker type ribbon about there neck. The color of the ribbon denotes their 'price'

black=well seasoned=cheap
green=novice=medium price
red='Ladybird'=if you have to ask you can't afford it.

This is pretty much a village of people out for themselves. It's unlikely you will find 'kind' people here, tho it 'might' happen.... rolleyes yeah right.... Expect your character to get swindled and crookshanked. Sammuel keeps close surevelliance on the town, through use of 'Kitten' as well as other numerous spies he has set up through out the town. IF you are worthy of his notice, you'll find out in HIS sweet time. Tho it might be delivered with a sweeter bargain as well if you catch other people's eye. wink ninja

~ Reserved, just in case ~

arrow Dockside


As the blue-haired woman left the Tavern, and swung the door open, she nearly rammed it straight into the face of a depressed young man. He was a frequent to the bar and knew that the door swung both out, and in, as is the custom with all facilities that sell alcohol- this is done so a particularly inebriated fellow won't think it's funny to hold the door shut; so, he had planned to simply push the door open with his shoulder and proceed inside, not using his arms since his hands were in his pockets. He didn't even really notice that the door was opening since his dark eyes were cast down at the ground, his body in a minor state of depression at the moment.

At the last instant before the wooden portal struck his fair young face, Michael- for it was indeed the youth with the wings and the tail -rolled one of his shoulders and kicked out the opposite leg, causing the door to miss his head but impact rather weakly with his extended knee. The resulting spin caused his large, soft wing to buffet the woman and possibly knock her down.

Having attained a bit of courteousy and politeness in the not-so-distant past, Michael tried to reach out for the woman and keep her from falling, but failed rather horribly. Instead, the even further shifting of his center of gravity caused the solitary foot on the ground to slide out from under him and drop the rest of his body to the ground. Slowly rising to a sitting position on the ground, groaning with the silver gauntleted-hand to the back of his head- a warm sensation already spreading from it -the young man glances about for the woman through bleary eyes.

Hopefully he hadn't hurt her... sometimes he didn't know his own strength; he also realized that he had reached out for her with the dark gauntlet, and prayed that she hadn't been clawed.

arrow Dockside, outside of Morgan's Tavern


"Excuse me, miss..."

Michael rose up to his feet, pushing off from the ground with the dark gauntlet and his pointed tale. Once he had attained a standing position, he stretched out his wings and cracked his neck, turning his chin outward with three fingers on his right hand. Idley brushing off dirt from his dark slacks and white, black-sleeved shirt, the angelic devil cracks a very small smile, peering at her with black eyes through a veil of white hair.

"...that wasn't a very nice thing to say, now was it?"

The bland, flat tone of his voice rang with indifference, so it was obvious he wasn't angry. He knew he hadn't said 'sorry', but that was still no reason to be rude. Actually, he really didn't even care about her manners- Michael was just making conversation.

It looked like she needed a cupcake or something...

arrow Dockside, outside of Morgan's Tavern


"You might not care..." Michael said while taking a couple of lazy steps towards her, walking out of the light thrown off by the windows of the Tavern and into the darkness of the street, his body fading from the view of regular eyes; not to say he diappeared by 'magic' or anything, it was just dark.

Again, his hands slid into his pockets, completely hiding the gauntlets since he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. Now that he was in the dark, his black eyes seemed to glow with an inner light, a pin-p***k of red in the middle of the pupil; an obvious sign of infravision. Casually eyeing the woman up in down in the realm of heat, Michael can't help but raise his eyebrow. Most people were a few simple shades or red, orange, and yellow, but her... she was strange. All kinds of different shades and colors swirled through her body, making it look rather... aurora-ish.

His head recoiled just slightly as his eyes returned to the regular spectrum, blinking a few times to chase the heat-vision from his eyes. An awkward silence ensued for a moment before Michael remembered to finish his sentence, having kind of lost interest while contemplating all the pretty colors.

"...but I do..."

And, upon further reflection, "...although you probably don't care about other people, do you?"

It was kind of a snap judgement, but one he assumed was true.

arrow Dockside, Outside Morgan's Tavern

"Mm... one of those types."

Michael knew the type, because he used to be one. With a knowing shake of his head and a grim, tight-lipped smile, the angelic devil slips his hands out of his pockets and runs the right one up into his hair, then gives it a gentle scratch- the itch had been bugging him, but he didn't want to let the woman see his gauntlets. Those damned gauntlets. Dropping into a momentary squat, then placing a hand on the ground, he slides from his standing position to a sitting one, butt firmly placed on the curb.

He didn't feel like drinking anymore for some reason. Sitting there for a moment, half of his body illuminated by the faint light of a nearby house, a thought strikes him and he calls out- knowing the woman would hear; again, he had made some assumptions about the strange colors he had seen swirling inside of her.

"I didn't catch your name!" and, in a quieter voice, he immitated her predictable reply, "'I didn't give it...'"

arrow Dockside, Outside Morgan's Tavern

Michael thought it was be polite to respond with his own name, but he couldn't... because he was laughing. The angelic devil had fallen onto his back and had his arms crossed over his stomach, holding his sides, as if they'd rip themselves free from his body if he let them go. Wings curling over himself like another pair of arms, tail snaking about his leg, he just laughs on; tears welling in the corner of his eyes.

The woman really didn't strike him as the 'Kitten'-type, no matter how attractive she was. Regaining his composure and rising shakily back to his sitting position, wiping his left hand across his face to clear away the tears of mirth- accidentally knicking his cheek in the process with a jagged protrusion on the dark gauntlet -he replies as well as humanly possible at the moment.

"I'd like to say 'Pleased to meet you, Kitten. I'm Michael,' but... the circumstances really haven't been all-too cheery, have they?"

arrow Dockside, Outside Morgan's Tavern

Michael regarded the hand for a moment, making little circles in his palm with his middle and ring finger. She seemed friendly enough, for the moment, but it seemed- due to her attitude and egotistical dismissal of him earlier -that she had some kind of reputation. It never hurt to be safe. He decided to go with his gut on this one and be wary, the sweat in his palms had never failed him. He couldn't necessarily 'feel' the fingers on his palms, nor the sweat- because of the gauntlets -but he knew it was there.

Offering a bit of a nod and a half smile, the angelic devil clasps her forearm and pulls himself to his feet; if she had anything hidden up that sleeve, he would have fealt it. And if he fealt it, then it would have been neutralized for the moment being. Now on his feet, facing the pretty woman whom looked young- but looks could be decieving in this magical age -Michael's face returns to its normal blank, kind of bored self and he cocks his head to the side.

"Drink?"