|
|
DagothGares
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
No gods or kings
|
posted June 04, 2011 01:12 AM |
|
|
Heritage (IC)
Darkness has fallen over the small village. The only sound to be heard in the streets and cottages are those of a stray dog barking and the drunken lullabies stemming from taverns. We move our attention to the local smith who had set up shop here, not too long ago. It's a decent little building that has been doing good business with local mercenaries, merchants and other people benefitting from metallurgy.
A loud bang is heard against the door, followed by three softer knocks, trying to call attention to whoever is inside.
From the other side a man's voice asks: "Who's there?"
A slight pause."Horace?" shouts Darren, "It's me, little brother, let me in." He chuckles a bit. "I have brought some company with me as well to celebrate this reunion."
"Darren? Is that you?" The door opens with a faint creak. "It is you!" Horace's face lightens up and his arms open for a hug at the sight of his visitor.
Darren enters the house. He looks and smells like he hasn't shaved or bathed for weeks. With a jug of moonshine in his left hand, he lumbers inside and hugs his brother. "Thank God," he said, whilst giving a bear hug. He then holds out Horace in front of him with both hands placed on his brother's shoulders so he can see him clearly. "It's good to see you, little brother." he says with a grin.
"You too, brother," says Horace, returning the grin. "Now come, sit down before you have to sit up."
"Good idea," says horace and as he sits down he opens the jug of moonshine and puts two cups he seemed to have just magically pulled out of thin air on the table. As he pours the drink, he tries to make some small talk. "So how's that apprenticeship turning out? The smith still being such a hard-ass?" he says jokingly.
"Good actually," Horace replies "I'm a smith myself now."
"Ah..." Darren utters. He stares in front of him for a few seconds before replying. "Of course, that," he mutters, "makes sense. You couldn't have stayed an apprentice forever." He takes a sip from his cup. Of course, he couldn't come back after two years as if nothing had happened.
"So how was the city?" Horace asks casually.
Darren laughs a bitter, little laugh. "Oh, you know, currently times are a bit meager, so... You see, my company currently has a bit of trouble with... Well, things are a..."
"You blew it, didn't you?" Horace interjects as his face darkens.
Darren stays quiet, looking into his cup, afraid to look Horace in the eyes. "Yes, I lost everything." He cringes a little before continuing. Then he suddenly recollects himself. He looks Horace in the eyes with a faint smile and says: "But don't worry, brother, I know how to get everything back." He downs the rest of his cup and then flashes his wolvish grin.
"Urhg!" Horace grunts covering his face with his palm. "Well, what is it then?" He asks.
Darren contemplates this question, as if words have become a foreign concept to him. "Okay, I'll tell you, but first. Do you still have that map dad gave you two years ago?" he then says.
"What?" Horace asks eyes wide with surprise. "That thing? Hold on, I think I have it somewhere." He goes off rummaging through his drawers and chests and returns with an old, rolled up piece of parchment.
Darren takes the scroll and opens it after having said "Thanks, little brother."
He takes a small book from his coat and leafs through it for a while. His hands go over some weird symbols on the scroll and stop at words written in some alien language. His face turns dead serious and he suddenly seemed to be very sober. As he does this, Darren talks some more about his father: "You know, Horace, dad always told us these stories about the wars he served in. I'm sure you remember his tales about the wizard's wars. Damn, to this day I'm still afraid of golems, you know? There're plenty of those in the city doing manual labour or doing some menial tasks, but how dad talked about the war golems... Makes you see them in an entirely different light. Anyway, I don't know if he talked about it with you, what with you being the prodigal son with a decent future and all, but he claimed to have stolen this map from his employer once, a big wizard, named Zaun. He said it contained directions towards some great treasure that Zaun hadn't bothered with yet, since, you know, wizard wars and all that." he pauses while flipping through the small book, muttering something about shoddy handwriting under his breath.
"Well, anyway, dad told me this, because he said that I should always go find this and 'get what belongs to us,' if I ever need it." Darren looks up at Horace. "Now, I know what you're thinking. I didn't believe it either. I thought the map was just something fantastical made up to entertain us. The map was probably something made by an elven cartographer or something, hence the weirdness, maybe it was a novelty thing, you know, but last year, while I was... Relaxing in some bar I met with Limp. You know him, right? He was that old basterd who came around to visit us back when you were six. Your mother didn't like him much, thought he was rude and vulgar. Anyway, I played cards with him that night. I even beat the card sharp and he gave me this book. He told me: 'It goes with the map.' At the time I didn't know, but now I pieced it together and now I see that, indeed, the little book explains everything there is to find on it."
Darren pauses again, pours himself another drink.
"I believe this map and I'm going to follow it."
"How are you going to do that? There are monsters, bandits and who knows what out there! You can't make it on your own!" Horace exclaims almost jumping off his seat.
"Dont worry. I can take care of myself. I've always been able to take care of myself, little brother. Besides, I'll drag some other desperate ruffians with me and I'll have my flintlock. I still have money left to buy some black powder and pellets." he explains confidently. "Don't worry, I'm not asking you anything, except a roof over my head tonight and this map. I also may need your services as a smith, but I'll pay for that, no worries."
"I'll come with you!" Horace says. "I can't let you go on some crazy adventure by yourself!"
Darren looks up. "What? You're coming with me, then?" A slight hint of irony seeps through his confident smile.
"That's what I said!" Horace shouts, his face taking a red shade. "What? So now you think I'm the one not up for it?"
Darren laughs. "Well, no, it's just. You..." Darren gestures around the room. "You have this, you know. I don't think I can let you give that up. I don't think I can."
"Well," Horace stumbles with his words for a bit. "Someone can watch the house while I'm gone. This time, I really need to come with you."
Darren nodded. "I see." he says and then flings himself at Horace, giving a big hug. "I'm so happy to have my little brother with me on this." As he put Horace down, he pours his cup full again. "Let's drink to this, little brother." He says, while lifting his cup. "Let's drink to claiming what's rightfully ours and our father, to better tidings and a better life."
Almost having to hold back tears: "Aye!" says Horace as his cup hits against Darren's.
Next day... In the afternoon...
“Dear God, I feel as if an ogre has been sitting on my head all night.” Darren said as he stumbles in to the local tavern with Horace behind him. “Now, I know you're not familiar with this, but I see this getting done all the time in the big city. We don't need big city mercenaries, though. In fact, we can't pay them. We can, however, attract some desperate sods, here, so check this out.” he says as he pulls up a chair and uses it to climb on a table.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “And otherkin, too. Today I have come to you with an offer you most certainly can't slip by.” Around this time the quiets down in the tavern as the common filth, trash and desperate of society start to listen to what the shouting man was advertising. Probably some stupid artifact or other or some wonder cure. Damn quacks. “Feast your eyes on this.” he says as he unfolds the great map with its smudges and words written in another language. “This, my friends, is a map from Zaun, the arch-wizard, the great terror of the wizard wars, the golem scourge. My brother and I have spent years dabbling with cartographers and translators to piece this map together and last night, we did it! We have found where this map leads, this map, which has been stolen by our father, the great soldier Cornelius Darrensen during the great war. This map leads to one of Zaun's treasure vaults, which is bound to have gold and objects of power. We, however, have little money left in our efforts to decypher the map, so we cannot hire any professional. So we promise anyone willing to come along in this endeavour a fair cut of the profits, with only five percent extra for us, because we, after all, have the map. Please, if you seek adventure and money, come talk to us.”
Darren gets off the table and sits down. Darren certainly had a knack for drawing attention to himself and speaking in public. The room stays quiet for a moment, except for a few mutterings here and there, before the usual tavern rowdiness starts again, with people talking about the brother's expedition. Darren turns to his brother now.
“Don't worry, they'll come. It just takes a while. I think we have a long day ahead of us, so we might as well enjoy ourselves a few drinks.” he says as he gestures for the bartender.
____________
If you have any more questions, go to Dagoth Cares.
|
|
mvassilev
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
|
|
posted June 04, 2011 05:45 AM |
|
|
Charles pondered the announcement quietly. What a scam, he thought, or at least if not a scam, someone is confused. There's no way some villager would have a map to one of Zaun's treasure vaults.
"More beer, sir?" the bartender interrupted Charles's thoughts.
"Yes, please," Charles said, then added, "Tell me, are such announcements common in these parts?'
"Can't say they are," the bartender replied, pouring Charles the beer, "It's not worth listening to. Especially coming from that Darren."
"Oh? You know that gentleman?" Charles inquired.
"Gentleman? Bah! Brother's an honest smith, father was a respected soldier, and this guy? Goes off to the city! A shameful story, for such a good family to have a black sheep - you're from the city, sir, aren't you, I'm sorry, I meant no offense," the bartender apologized.
And not from any of the nearby cities, I'm from the other side of the country, even worse, Charles thought. Still, scam or no scam, what else could be happening in this quiet, peaceful village? Must be a reason old Golemmaster Fabian wrote to tell him to come to this village. Said I'd find something of interest. This could be it. He did mention something about a map in his letter. He pulled the letter out of his pocket...
"Charles,
Hope everything is okay. Remember, don't beat yourself up over it. It wasn't your fault. Sorry to start off with the dark stuff, but I know how you feel about that incident.
On a brighter note, if you really want to stop something like that from happening again - if you're really willing to put your neck on the line - I have an interesting idea. I've heard something about some old wizard from the war leaving some stuff behind - hidden, of course. I have no idea what it is, but the guy who told me about him gave me the impression this wizard was powerful. Don't ask me to remember which wizard it was. I asked this guy where he was planning to settle (he was a veteran) and he said some village called Hiltovvr. Sorry to tell you about this so late - it's been years and years since I talked to this guy, and I just remembered about it. So if you want to find out more about it, go to Hiltover.
It's probably a wild goose chase, but hey, at least it's something to do.
-Fabian"
This may be what Fabian was talking about, Charles thought, though this young man seems too young to have served in the old war. He did say his father had it... Eh, might as well take a look at it.
Charles walked over to Darren. "It's almost certainly fake," Charles said to him, "Do you really think a wizard would just leave a map leading to his treasure lying around?"
____________
Eccentric Opinion
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted June 04, 2011 05:54 AM |
|
|
Obsidian was stumbling through the streets outside, partially blinded from exhaustion from travel, partially from the lack of magic to fuel his body. Some merchants and other such travelers watched the gem-like being drag one of his arms along the ground, rune marked body pulsing softly at the rate of a slow heart beat. Some stared, others stared harder and longer. It's as if they still don't know what I am... I must still be far away from my home... home... Of course I'm nowhere near my home! If I were anywhere within a thousand miles of my empire, I wouldn't be walking, alone, low on magic or without alcohol! The weakly pulsing eyes narrowed as Obsidian growled... Sending the watching travelers scurrying. Damn it all! "Wait! I need to know where I can find... Bah, who am I kidding. They don't know what the hell I'm saying anyway..." And then an idea struck him, Obsidian began listening to the mutterings of those around him. It might require more magic than he had left, but he needed to learn these people's language... fast.
"- The hell is that thing..." Nope, but it helped with learning...
"- What-" Nope.
"- Is that-" Nada.
"- Is it some kind of-" Negatory.
"- Hope it doesn't-" No, again. Come on now people, I know that I'm strange, but still, can't you talk about... wait a minute. He focused on that conversation again, "- in the same tavern as us."
"You mean that dump a mile down the road?" The merchant's companion asked.
"Yes, that." He told her. "And really, it's rather nice for these rural settings, please stop insulting my favorite haunts dear."
"Your 'Favorite haunts' are dumps for people of our standing dear," She shot back. But by that time, Obsidian was out of ear shot. What's a dear, and why was she calling him it? He wondered as he passed a peddler in his wagon. The wondering merchant waved to Obsidian as he passed. "Ah, a Templar. What brings you this far south, traveler?" He asked Obsidian, who summarily stopped running and turned to him.
"I've lost my empire. When were you last there?" He asked, now with a heavily accented version of the native language.
"Five, six years ago. A steward Geofrey was frantically looking for a Lord Obsidian last I checked and an arch-duke Xor'dirn was shouting at people that the emperor was dead... I'll tell them you're fine when I see them again, I assume?" The peddler, a wizened old man, asked with a cheerful smile. "In the meantime, can I interest you in something on this old cart of mine?"
"Unless you have alcohol or raw magic, I don't think that I need anything from you now, but thank you."
"Hmm, well drat. just sold the last of my raw magic in that last town, and I'm a recovering alcoholic. Not a drop of either. Though, I could give you a ride if you need one." He patted the seat beside him, "Come friend. I swear that the wood only bites if I don't feed it." Obsidian chuckled and pulled himself up. There was a sharp 'Crack' as the bench bit him. "Knew I'd forgotten something today..." the old man muttered. Obsidian rolled his eyes.
In about an hour, the pair arrived at the tavern. Obsidian hopped off, stumbling a bit as he landed, and waved goodbye to the peddler. He stumbled, pushing open the door. He caught himself before landing flat on his face, and meandered to the counter. To the barkeep, he muttered, "Give me... Your strongest... Ale," holding his head as if hung over.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
Kipshasz
Undefeatable Hero
Elvin's Darkside
|
|
posted June 04, 2011 06:45 AM |
|
Edited by Kipshasz at 10:48, 04 Jun 2011.
|
A loud, rumbling burp echoed through the tavern as a brightbearded dwarf slammed down an iron tankard.
- Hand over yer shinies ye wuss.- He said to a man who was just defeated in a drinking contest. There really wasn't a job for the dwarf and a black haired man with a weathered face and an eye patch over his left eye. The duo specialised in hunting all things draconic and dangerous.
Dragomir, the man with the eyepatch has been trained in this art from a very young age. He along with ten other apprentices which his father took in. After the training was complete he, and the three others who survived were set to travel across the world. The man saw both warm and cold across his travels. After a botched deal in which Dragomir was hired to 'clean up' a marsh from Sobekan, he met Magnus who was hired for the same thing. The two quickly saw through the intents of the poachers, killed them instead and were travelling together eversince.
The story of Magnus is a little more on the jolly side. During the first decades of his life he just drank. Later he dranked even more and eventually he started drinking so much that he was banned in every tavern in the kingdom. Because he could drink the whole month's supply overnight, didn't payed and caused all kinds of trouble. Others want to drink too. One day he took his grandfather's guns murmured to his moustached wife that he's going to hunt. And so he went. To hunt taverns where they pour some booze for him. Eventually he met with Dragomir and been adventuring ever since.
Now after a smartass peasant had robbed them of their pay by using a poisoned carcass of a sheep to kill a wyvern that the duo was hired to take care of, Magnus and Drago arrived to the town and using Magnus's adept drinking skills hoped to take the last shirt of each and every patron of the tavern.
- All of them.- Drago said when counting the coins which Magnus had just won. Still Drago knew that the money they'll win will be spent here at the tavern. When arrived they were approached with a job offer to take out a sobekan who was in town. The two saw through the offer. Someone wanted to make profit from the valuable, but illegal sobekan leather. Also as far as Drago knew, that if sobekan leather wearers were cought by the gator men they could expect no mercy as the sobekan butchered them mercilessly. That may be the reason behind the cannibalism myth. Drago and Magnus refused to hunt sentinent and intelligent beings, despite them being reptillian.
- Hey Drago. What was that runt shoutin 'bout treasure?
- Caught your attention eh?
- Aye. With the rebellions at Araraq the grain prices went up and with it, booze ain't gettin any cheaper.
- Gotcha. Think it's worth a shot?
- Better than nothing eh Drago? Good thing that ye blasted that son of a w#%$& in the face before he spread the word bout the lizard. We be goin as tramps then damn it! Where's me ale?!
- I'd say we wait for a few more to accept his offer. What do you say?
The dwarf shrugged.
- Whatever. Yer the boss. Finally. Two, no three... Better yet nine pitchers of that wussy watered down piss yer callin ale. Hurry.- He said to the barmaid. Dragomir counted the remaining ducats, while Magnus was challenged to a drinking contest yet again.
____________
"Kip is the Gavin McInnes of HC" - Salamandre
"Ashan to the Trashcan", "I got PTSD from H7. " - LizardWarrior
|
|
War-overlord
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Presidente of Isla del Tropico
|
|
posted June 04, 2011 12:45 PM |
|
|
Boolroc was sitting at a table in the back of the tavern. He eyed his cards and the peasants sitting at the table. He was beating these guys badly and was raking in a good stack of coins. Boolroc was a great gambler, even better than was required by the Thieves Guild, and he was an even better cheater. Not that he needed to cheat these bumpkins. They were that bad.
Boolroc tossed a few coins onto the stack, raising the stakes for this hand. Two of the peasants backed out, two others went along with it. Boolroc was waiting for a contact at this tavern, not sure who it was. The contact was a senior member of the guild and would make him or herself known to Boolroc. But he could make a few coins while he was here. Gambling was one of the few things, outside outright theft, accepted by the Thieves Guild as a means of making money.
One of the peasants called Boolroc's hand. He showed three cards of his hand, that made a relatively high score. The peasant started grinning widely and showed his entire hand. His hand was higher than the three cards Boolroc had shown. When the peasant wanted to rake in his profits, Boolroc had him wait Boolroc showed his entire hand now, which beat the peasant. Boolroc woud have smiled, had he the lips to do it. Moves like this weren't against the rules of the game, they were underhanded but entirely adhereing to the rules.
Boolroc collected the stakes as a fellow stood up on a table. Talking about a quest for the treasure of some wizard or another. Boolroc admired the way the fellow covered himself in his speech in case the hunt turned to be a wild goose chase. Boolroc also listend carefully if the fellow did not reveal a second layer of thieves slang. Boolroc thought he heard a few non-sequitur pieces of slang. So either the fellow was not speaking slang, or he was attracting his attention and setting up a cover.
Boolroc decided to wait it out a bit longer. As one of the peasants at the table dealt the cards, he tossed a two coins into the middle of the table for the initial bet.
____________
Vote El Presidente! Or Else!
|
|
Kipshasz
Undefeatable Hero
Elvin's Darkside
|
|
posted June 04, 2011 06:54 PM |
|
|
The belching of Magnus nearly shook the entire building. Those nine pitchers were emptied quickly and another oponent nearly passed out. He did, after Drago received the fifty silver ducats from the loser.
- Looks like we ain't the only ones who want to take the last shirt from the bloody villagers. The scaleface overthere knows his cards- Magnus pointed at Boolroc.
- Looks like now we know another reason behind that job. A loser wants his cash back.
- Aye. Where's the boar we ordered? I'm starving!
- Order something stronger than ale. I'm thirsty.
- Aye boss. Let's get our daily bread! Owner! Somogon! Get the whole keg here!- Magnus shouted to the barkeep, the appearant owner of the establishment. The other patrons were getting frustrated about Magnus's drinking. His stomach was like a hollow bucket when it came to drinking. However the owner didn't really minded as long as they payed. Moments later the duo enjoyed the strong home made rye moonshine, called somogon by the dwarwes. Magnus drank from straight from a large goblet that he took from a passing barmaid. It contained wine, which Magnus swallowed in one gulp. While they waited Dragomir thought about the treasure of which that vagabond spoke of.
____________
"Kip is the Gavin McInnes of HC" - Salamandre
"Ashan to the Trashcan", "I got PTSD from H7. " - LizardWarrior
|
|
DagothGares
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
No gods or kings
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 03:37 AM |
|
|
Darren laughed. He had this way of laughing confidently, while being entirely clueless or backed into a corner in a discussion. "Obviously not. Zaun, being the wizard of legends, he wouldn't. The map was being entrusted to our father who, well, never returned it. That's entirely different from leaving it about. He retired, during the wizard war, in pleasant Hiltover, here. Clearly, Zaun was occupied with a war, while this was going on, so didn't ask for the map and afterwards, well, he must have lost track." he said, having no idea if what he said was entirely true, but he was damn good at hiding it. "Hiltover, after all, is precisely in the middle of nowhere. It's near some largely uninhabited, swampy border lands of this land and the only thing of interest nearby is the small city of Mansraught, three day's worth of travel from here."
Stating those facts made Darren confident enough to roll the question back to the man in the green cloak. Darren was kind of stupid right after a night of drowning his sorrows and then having catarthic reunions with his brother.
"Though, I don't think you care too much for my explanations, as you already heard them just now." he said, while squinting at him. "I'm afraid I don't have a lot of substantial evidence beyond that, my good sir. Now, if you feel I'm still pulling your leg, you can walk away. If you have a sudden change of heart, have a seat, drink with us and let's all get nicely acquainted." Darren said, not really caring that he sounded about as unprofessional as one could get about this, flashing a grin that wasn't quite wolfish, but not far from it either.
"My, my, it's been a while, since I saw another Templar." a man said, sitting not too far from Obsidian, in a long, slow drawl, "it probably was since the last war."
"Come sit with me, master Templar. I'll buy you a few drinks." the man said. As Obsidian had a good look at him, he saw a man in his late forties in dignified clothes. He carried a long sabre, a green coat with blue patterns and there were edges of an iron cuirass underneath it. His hair was greying, but only slightly and he still had plenty of it.
"My name is Swain." he said as he stood up ad extended his right hand. He seemed to stand pretty uncomfortably or, rather, his right leg didn't move as smooth as his leg one and he really did seem to be standing awkwardly.
"Care, if I join in?" a voice made of gravel and sand paper, stemming from a throat that was probably smeared with tar and obstructed by dead things asked the table of card-playing gentleman in the corner. A rather short man in brown clothes stood there with a smile that wasn't entirely filled with teeth. "My name is Limp and, please, as a courtesy, allow me to pay for the next round o' drinks, aye?"
____________
If you have any more questions, go to Dagoth Cares.
|
|
mvassilev
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 04:18 AM |
|
|
Charles was still skeptical. "Suppose this map really does show where Zaun hid his treasure," he said, "But why do you think it's still there? Zaun disappeared after the old war - it seems reasonable he'd take his treasure and retire quietly to some town, if that's what he wanted."
Darren looked at the older man, pondered the question, and answered, "Maybe he wanted to, but couldn't. A wizard like him could've had too many hoards to keep track of easily. That's why he made the map. It wouldn't have made much sense for him to make multiple copies - that'd make the treasure too easy to find. If anything was ever there, it's still there."
Something about this still doesn't make sense, Charles thought. "Very well, let's assume there is only one copy of the map. Why would Zaun give your father the only way of getting to his treasure? An unscrupulous man would've taken the treasure at the first opportunity, then hidden in some unknown village... Who did Zaun trust your father so much? Are you sure your father didn't already empty the hoard himself? And, assuming the treasure is still there, and this map is correct - Zaun wouldn't have wanted someone to steal it. It's probably protected by traps and powerful magic that only he can get past. I have some experience in disarming and avoiding traps, but those of a powerful wizard are bound to be much more difficult and dangerous. Do you have any kind of suggestion for dealing with that? Because if you're not ready, you and whoever comes along with you is going to die."
____________
Eccentric Opinion
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 05:20 AM |
|
|
((**** Walk away for two hours... 2 HOURS!!! Have to rewrite everything now...))
Obsidian looked at the hand curiously, extended his own and, uncertainly, took it. "I am sorry, lord Swain, I am not familiar with your customs in these lands. You have me at a... disadvantage? Both language and tradition-wise. For instance, I do not know if it is... distasteful, to ask about you leg, or if it is wise to take your offer. If you have met with my people... well, then you know how... instinctively distrustful we are." Another wave of exhaustion hit him, "That being said, I don't think I have a... choice. I'm weak right now, and I don't have any of your currency to pay for my drinks... thank you, stranger. I'd be interested to know how you met a Templar."
With that, Obsidian took the offered seat and repeated to the barkeep, "The strongest alcohol you have."
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
Oscarius
Famous Hero
*sleepy*
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 09:43 AM |
|
|
Enric woke up with a groan. The tavern had been the only building where he could sleep. He regretted that he hadn’t looked for an empty barn instead. Enric wasn’t the most social person, and drunken songs weren’t the best lullaby when you wanted to fall asleep after a long day.
Neither had he been able to work efficiently in this environment. The planned scrolls were only halfdone, and one had even been a failure.
Put short, Enric hadn’t been in a good mood when he went to bed, and wasn’t in a good mood now. He packed the few things that were still left and got dressed. He could hear some high voiced discussion from the drinking room. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon to hear discussions, arguments or brawls from a tavern. But this sounded slightly more unified than normal. He could hear a multitude of voices, and words were thrown around like “insanity”, “map” and “treasure”. This was enough to pique Enric’s interest. He grabbed his backpack, spoke the word that broke the tablet holding the door and went into the drinking room.
In there he saw that two young men were the main attraction. They were holding up a map and were seemingly looking for people to join them on a treasure hunt. Enric wasn’t sure what to think about that, a treasure hunt was good and all, but there were a lot more treasure hunters than there were treasures. And a great hoard of valuables just laying around at this day and age…he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to know what was stopping people not grabbing it.
Anyways, it seemed rather interesting anyway. After all, Enric was just travelling around with no goal in sight so having some company was always nice, and he could always leave if he thought that it wasn’t worth the effort.
He walked up to a man that looked to be from the village, and sort of sober.
“Who are they and what’s going on?”.
The man seemed quite surprised from this straightforward question coming from nowhere. Enric cursed his social skills.
“Uhhm…that there are Darrensens sons. The young one is a fine lad, but the older has been gone for years. Now they seem to have understood some map from their old daddy. “Treasure of Zaun” or something like that” The man didn’t seem overly interested.
“Well thank you” The man seemed to not really care.
Enric went to the end of the room, leaning against the wall. He wasn’t too keen for joining two youngsters, but the prospect of treasure was getting more interesting. He had heard that the key to Zaun's vaults were in the maps, and if they boys had found one that was unique…well, then this had turned interesting.
However, he wouldn’t want to go with them by himself, but it seemed that some other people were interested, anyway, Enric waited.
____________
Need moar avatars!
|
|
War-overlord
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Presidente of Isla del Tropico
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 11:13 AM |
|
|
"Sit yourself down," Boolroc said gesturing at a chair that wasn't quite at the table. "but you'll have to wait for us to finish this hand before we deal you in. We're playing Southern Rules Thrift, Clubs are high, aces are free and 8's are banked. Initial bets are two florins and no bets higher than two dubloons." Boolroc explained. "And as you're paying, I'll have a bitter."
Boolroc eyed his hand as he had a gold dubloon dance over his other hand. He saw the peasant across him, who had raised the stakes getting visibly nervous at the idea of Boolroc raising the bet with a dubloon. He was bluffing. "Call." Boolroc said while having the coin dissapear between his claws.
____________
Vote El Presidente! Or Else!
|
|
Kipshasz
Undefeatable Hero
Elvin's Darkside
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 02:21 PM |
|
|
The roasted boar that the duo ordered was now completely eaten. Magnus was picking his teeth with a knife. Dragomir found the dwarf's table manners disgusting, but within years he learned to ignore it. Magnus belched loudly again.
- Aye, thats the stuff.- He said and loosened his belt.
- Do this again and I'll kick you to eat in the stables.- Drago jokingly said.
- Just be happy I ain't fartin'. Cause if I did this loosely nailed shack would already be blown down.
- Hehe, good point.- Said Drago and dranked the somogon. No one wanted to challenge Magnus to a drinking contest after he defeated the town's biggest drunkard.
- What ye thinkin 'bout?- asked Magnus
- About that man who claims to know about the treasure hoard of some wizard. I think it would be interesting to tag along with him. Maybe a bigger job opportunity will arise along the way. Let's finish the keg and I'll go talk to him.
____________
"Kip is the Gavin McInnes of HC" - Salamandre
"Ashan to the Trashcan", "I got PTSD from H7. " - LizardWarrior
|
|
JoonasTo
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
What if Elvin was female?
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 03:26 PM |
|
Edited by JoonasTo at 23:44, 23 Jun 2011.
|
Amenta was walking down the muddy road of a small town. Why was she here? Oh yes, she had to relocate after that halfwit blamed her for cursing his chicken. As if she could bewitch anything! She was a sorceress not witch! Had the townsfolk listened to her? No-ooo, it was all "Begone witch!" As if the moron hadn't deserved to have his dick frozen(literally) for not being able to recognise cock from chicken. Peasants.
She looked at her purse and frowned, not that much coin left.
Drats!
A drink, I need a drink. Is there even a tavern in this lousy hamlet?
She looked around and spotted tavern sign on a run down house. Hmph! If it can stand, it will have drinks.
With this decided she walked towards the tavern.
____________
DON'T BE A NOOB, JOIN A.D.V.E.N.T.U.R.E.
|
|
DagothGares
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
No gods or kings
|
|
posted June 05, 2011 04:11 PM |
|
|
Darren tensed up a little. This man was becoming very persistent. "As you and I both seem to have experience with traps, we can deal with the small ones and this book," he says, pointing at the small book with the translation of the map, "details several obstacles and ways to get past them."
He let out a sigh, before continuing: "And I don't know if Zaun trusted it to my father or something underhanded went on on my father's part." He smiled. "Though, really, it comes down to the same thing, in that case. My father wasn't the most honest man, but he was a very good warrior and a bit of a rogue. He told us that he was entrusted the map and several other documents for transport as one of his strongholds were destroyed and the remainder of his mercenaries were to retreat as his... Pets, shall we say, distracted the army. He said he kept the map while giving the other documents. There's probably some truth to this, but I think the entire how and why can't be known, though I believe in this map." Darren said. Then he remembered another point the man brought up: "Oh, and if my father had taken the treasure, then, well, he certainly wouldn't have come here, living the humble live with some peasant girl and working his tenure."
Swain had to laugh. He lowered his hand and sat himself down again. "First of all, don't call me "sir." Some humans like that, but let's say I am not a sir anymore. And second of all, it's safe to sit with old men of my race, most they do is reminisce of the past. Thirdly, yeah, it's considered impolite to ask about people's handicaps." His eyes turned downward as he stammered a little, before continuing: "Suffice it to say my leg has been crushed in the war and it has been patched up, though it still isn't... Quite the same, I guess. I don't think I'd feel comfortable telling you more."
The bartender put down a great tankard on the table where they sat. "But, please, tell me where how you got here. I'd very much like to know more of your kind. I briefly encountered a few Templars in the war, since they briefly assisted our side and then dropped out, but I remember them fondly as valuable allies."
Limp grabbed himself a chair and ordered a few drinks.
____________
If you have any more questions, go to Dagoth Cares.
|
|
gnomes2169
Honorable
Undefeatable Hero
Duke of the Glade
|
|
posted June 06, 2011 05:29 AM |
|
|
Obsidian downed the entire pitcher without pause. Immediately, the blue pulsing in his vein-like rune markings became stronger. "Only ninety percent concentration? No matter, I'll have three more." After the second cup, Obsidian was able to hold his head high, and the pulse was almost constant. "There we go... Back to your question."
"To answer, I will need to give a little bit of a back story. I am from a land north of the great desert between our lands, where I created an empire of my people. The thing is, most of us Templar are violently reclusive and complacent, the only time we gather is when the barrier starts to come down between our world and the demon's, so there was a rather large amount of resistance to this movement. Not many of us like change, including on of our greatest heroes. Xor'dirn, a warrior of great skill and four thousand years of age, resisted my movement violently, saying that our individual rights and personalities were our greatest strength against our ancient demonic foes. He was joined by hundreds of veteran Templar in a violent resistance that was eventually defeated... Then again, I have always had allies. For instance, Geofrey, also an ancient Templar of four thousand years of age, and Saphire, the oldest living Templar at the age of ten thousand, backed me through the entire creation proses, and eventually negotiated peace with Xor'dirn, making him an influential duke in my court... A mistake. He has resisted every movement and turned almost half of my court against me repeatedly when I tried to pass laws that promoted some kind of fairness amongst our people."
"I fear that they took an active step against my reign. After ten years of my rule, I became lost in the desert. To be more accurate, I woke up in the middle of rolling sand dunes with only what you see on me. Almost immediately, I was set upon by slavers and brought to this land, bound, blinded and gagged. They sold me to a mine, but didn't count on my ability to use rune magic and a pick. Needless to say, once I caught up to them they were quickly slain and my equipment was reclaimed. I have spent the last three weeks wandering my way to... This tavern. You are the second person I have talked to."
"Now, what was this war you were talking about? I don't think that at any time during the last thousand years we have let any more than a small band of demons pass through our borders." Obsidian obviously had never heard of men fighting men, or wizards for that matter. The third mug came as he asked, but he was too focused on Swain to notice.
____________
Yeah in the 18th century, two inventions suggested a method of measurement. One won and the other stayed in America.
-Ghost destroying Fred
|
|
Berny-Mac
Promising
Legendary Hero
Lord Vader
|
|
posted June 07, 2011 10:21 PM |
|
|
"So where did you say you were from?" asked the attractive young maid.
"I didn't, but I can tell you where I'm going to go." replied Adal with a wink.
"Oh? And where's that?"
"Well why don't you come up to my room and I'll show ya?"
"Hmmm...sounds enticing." said the girl as she looked all across Adal's body.
"Of course it does, because I'm enticing!"
"HEY! THAT'S MY FIANCE, YOU JERK!" yelled a large man from across the tavern.
"Oh damn..." muttered Adal.
The human marched up to Adal and said, "I think you owe me an apology."
"Why don't you apologize to the lady beside me?" replied Adal wryly. "Obviously if she was chatting to me and wished to be pleased by me, then perhaps you are not satisfying her. Or perhaps those big muscles you posses are in fact meant to compensate for the fact that you are rather weak and flabby down south. Is that it? No, I think it is probably a combination of both, isn't it?"
The woman giggled a little bit while the man growled, his face turning red in anger.
"Well that does indeed seem to be the case doesn't it? Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I must place my iron fist in your fiancé's lovely velvet glove. So my darling, what say we head over to somewhere a little less conspicuous to commit some scandalous actions?" said Adal with a wink and a smile.
"ARRGGHHH!!!" roared the man as he charged at Adal.
Adal merely sidestepped and tripped the large man, sending him hurling into a wooden table. Adal then kneeled over the man and said whilst wagging a finger, "You need to learn to control your anger, my friend. Perhaps you need a drink?"
The man growled, grabbed a nearby bottle and smashed it against Adal's head. Adal fell backwards, grabbing his head in pain, but quickly got up as his wounds started to heal.
"Now that wasn't very nice, was it?" said Adal as he cracked his knuckles. "My turn."
Adal went forward towards the man, dodged both punches and delivered a painful uppercut on the poor man, sending him flying against a wall. He slid down towards the floor unconscious.
"Ahh...too easy." muttered Adal. He then looked around to see nearly the entire tavern silent and staring at him. "What?! He attacked me!"
____________
Skyrim RP? YES!
Here it is!
|
|
Kipshasz
Undefeatable Hero
Elvin's Darkside
|
|
posted June 08, 2011 04:32 PM |
|
|
- Lower down the gun boss, that wuss ain't worth defendin'- Magnus said and drank the somogon.
- Heh, you're right. I'll be wasting valuable slugs.- Drago felt the weight of the ammo pouch. The duo would surely need to restock on the ammo. They've got plenty of gunpowder which they stole from poachers they met along the way to the town. However their pellets were of the wrong caliber, so Magnus threw the "worthless waste of lead" away. The two also waited for the market day, hoping to sell the skins of a few wyverns and a rust drake that the two aquired from hunting the beasts.
- Get us some smoked sausage and jerky.- Drago said to the barmaid.
- Aye, and another keg of the liquid bread- Added Magnus.
____________
"Kip is the Gavin McInnes of HC" - Salamandre
"Ashan to the Trashcan", "I got PTSD from H7. " - LizardWarrior
|
|
Berny-Mac
Promising
Legendary Hero
Lord Vader
|
|
posted June 08, 2011 04:54 PM |
|
|
Seeing as the crowd looked as if they might charge and kill him, Adal changed track immediately and laughed, "Oh, its all in good fun, people! Drinks for everyone! Barkeep, put it all on my tab!"
The burly bartender asked, "Can you pay for all of this lot?"
"Of course I can, my dear friend! Drinks are all on me, people!" yelled out Adal enthusiastically. "Hell! Even the drinks you're drinking now!"
The crowd then roared in yells of joy and applause. Obviously, these people love free drinks. Adal laughed, grabbed a tankard of ale and went into the crowd where and music started playing and people started dancing.
"I love myself a good party! Let us drink til' our bellies are bloated and our heads are spinning!"
____________
Skyrim RP? YES!
Here it is!
|
|
kipshasz
Undefeatable Hero
Elvin's Darkside
|
|
posted June 11, 2011 07:34 PM |
|
|
- HA, that runt is fine in my book. as long as he pays for me daily bread.- Magnus said and drank the remnant of the somogon. Meanwhile Dragomir ordered some boiled pig's tongue with peas to go with the fresh keg. within the two decades of adventuring with Magnus, Dragomir learned to keep up with the dwarf.
- Why hello handsome...- a prostitute tried to gain the attention of the tipsy dwarf.
- Get off me darn woman! to hit on a dwarf like this... get lost! you ain't got a 'stache.
- ...And a beard.- Added Drago. the dwarwes were very fond and protective of their ugly, highly unattractive women. Magnus was the finest example of this . As far as Drago could remember, Magnus haven't looked at a woman of other race. now if someone mentioned the uglyness of the dwarven women him, they could say good bye to their face, as Magnus will turn it into mush within seconds.
The barmaid brought them a fresh keg of somogon.
- You sure you don't want to go to the bathhouse? you reek.
- It ain't me. it's me mountain ram.- That was the only response to the questions about bathing. Drago found it useless to argue with him. Magnus drank, ate, slept and fought in his armor and blamed all the stench onto his stout mountain ram, which served the dwarves as horses serve humans.
- Suit yourself.- Magnus dranked his goblet and ate a slice of the tongue.
____________
"Kip is the Gavin McInnes of HC" - Salamandre
"Ashan to the Trashcan", "I got PTSD from H7. " - LizardWarrior
|
|
War-overlord
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
Presidente of Isla del Tropico
|
|
posted June 11, 2011 10:15 PM |
|
|
Boolroc knew Limp. Limp was one of the Thieves Guildmasters and he was most likely his contact. Boolroc and the other cardplayers paid the ruckus little heed.
Now Limp had joined the game, Boolroc was starting to cheat. He specifically started dealing Limp bad cards, even if one of the peasants would deal after him he shuffled the deck so that Limp would be dealt bad cards. Hand after hand, Limp got cards that were going to make him loose and slowly but surely Limp was loosing money. After a few hand where Boolroc drove the stakes very high, Limp was playing on credit. And again, Boolroc drove the stakes high and Limp lost.
"I have some money in my room here, come with me and I'll pay you." Limp rasped, followed by an inconspicuous wink.
"Very well, play amongst yourselves untill I get back. Perhaps you'll learn a trick of two." Boolroc said jokingly while he followed Limp upstairs.
Boolroc followed Limp into his room and closed the door behind him.
"I see why nobody plays you at cards anymore." Limp rasped. "But aren't you sqeezing these here peasants a little too hard?"
"The only person I cheated today, was you master Limp. These peasants are that bad." the Sobekan replied.
Limp smiled again, showing his bad teeth. "Hehehe, you've certainly earned your degree at gambling then."
Boolroc shrugged. "I'm no master yet."
"Which is exactly why you're here. Those two gentlemen that are heading off on a quest for Zaun's Vault, you've heard them?"
"I have. Either he's a bad thief or he speaks two tongues with but one."
"He's no thief. Or if he is he's not part of the Order of Guilds. However, the elder of the two, Darren, does owe the Guild. He came to one of the members for a loan, a pretty substantial one at that. And has yet to repay us." Limp rasped grimly.
"What, eh, figure are we talking about?" Boolroc inquired
"2000 Dubloons plus interest and he has missed every installment yet. Further more, Darren stole a book of mine. It's a book describing many wizard cyphers and ways of breaking them. It's very valueable to the Guild, as you should know."
"And my part in this?" Boolroc asked expectantly.
"You are to get Darren to one of the many Guildhouses. So I may collect his debt." Limp rasped mennacingly. "Shadow him, join his band, handcuff yourself to him. Whatever you do, stay close to Darren untill you get further intructions. The Guilds of the Order have recieved notification, if you need anything, go to one of the Guildhouses."
"Understood." Boolroc replied
Limp tossed the Sobekan a sack of coins.
"Your winnings." Limp rasped with a punctured smile. The smile turned predatory as he said: "Mind that the next time you cheat a Guildmember, you will be called before a Thieves Council. And I doubt they will satisfy for a simple repaymentplan. Tread lightly."
Boolroc caught the sack and spirited it away.
"Noted." He replied hesitantly.
He made his way down to the bar and called the owner.
"Barkeep! I'll have my drink pretty boy promised now. A tankard of bitter, yes."
____________
Vote El Presidente! Or Else!
|
| |
|
|
This thread is pages long: 1 
