Of Mages and Kings : A Twokinds RP (Open, PM sheet to GMs)

[Lambi]

Arryn had followed the Basitin towards the man that had apologized to them earlier. She didn't understand what they said, but hopefully it would be helpful to both of them. She did remember that the man seemed to speak Keidran, so perhaps the Basitin was asking him to translate between the two of them.

"[I remember that you spoke my language earlier when we met.]" she said to the man. "[I hope you can help us. Or at the very least me because I don't seem to understand anyone in this place. Though there were a few, but even then I didn't exactly think to ask them for help.]" She sighed. She didn't know why she hadn't asked for help with translation sooner. Perhaps it was because she was so new to this place. It didn't matter now though since they had found someone who could speak both her language and the Basitin's language.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

"Al-alright, well, juh-just follow me. Shouldn't take too long I think..." Alistair scratched the back of his as he begun telling himself in his mind just how bad of an idea this was. His doubting was interrupted when the Keidran told the mage of her mutual lack of understanding with the Basitin and many of the humans around here. "[Should be a f-fairly simple task, so d-don't worry. If you'll please, follow me for a moment, I need to take care of some things.]" With that, Alistair turned and headed back down the road to find the shop, occasionally looking back to see if they were following.

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

Borta grinned all the way back to the inn. The blood was drying on his claws and his shoulder ached where he'd slammed into his fellow keidran, but he felt alive again. He'd need to see if he could spar with Terry, or the new commer at some point. Both seemed more than adequate fighters and he'd need all the pointers he could get if he was to do anything really heroic before he died.

They're new companion was talking to them, and the baths wouldn't be ready for a while, so they might as well get aquainted

"What brought me here specifically, I cannot say.
With winding coils the serpent road
will drag you out the door.
And if you will but let it so,
It'll lead forever more
As the old tune goes. I don't think there's much better justifications than that. And yourself?"

 

[Athol]

Terry slumped into a nearby chair. "Me? I've been basing myself out of this city for 'bout twelve years now, on and off, came here first when I was seventeen I think, that's when I met the late Mr. Cruz. Mostly what keeps me here now is the steady jobs and good money. What about yourself?"

 

[UnusualStranger]

Victor nodded to the jittery mage, and followed as he proceeded about his task. While he wasn't exactly sure what he would need to do, he figured it would not be too hard a task, nor take too long. Besides, he could possibly find something helpful since mages tended to go to a particularly set of helpful places.

"Lead onward mage, and do not worry. I just wish for things to be completed and come to fruition quickly, and as long as your activity does not take an entire day I would be quite patient with it." Victor said, not exactly trying to appear innocent or easygoing. Honestly, Victor didn't feel he had the time for too much foolishness, and would like to speak with this odd hunter who apparently had never been to a city...or probably many other places before.

It is amazing that she made it this far, actually. Luck is obviously on her side....or she is skilled enough that speaking with others is not necessary too often. I am looking forward to having an actual conversation with her rather than my...poor language skills.

For a moment, Victor cursed the times where he had actually had to work with a Keidran and just got by with what he could pick up rather than hold off and learn for some period of time. But, it was in the past, and little he could do about it now.

A curse to the past only annoys the present.

 

[RBMidknight]

"This ya first time sailin'?"

The rough alcohol-slurred voice intruded upon Jarrod's solitude. The Keidran had been enjoying his view of the city that was steadily getting closer. In particular he'd been trying to identify the tallest structures. Towers of some type, it looked like. Jarrod turned slowly to see who had addressed him. He kept a light grip on the rail for balance. One of the deckhands was standing rather close, a pudgy balding man whose name Jarrod didn't know. In one hand the man clutched a skin of wine. Jarrod frowned as the strong smell of alcohol reached him. Despite the man's condition he appeared steady on the constantly moving ship.

Jarrod shook his head in answer to the question. "I have sailed before." he admitted. He stepped away from the rail of the ship. With his hands free he brushed at the fur on his arms. The salty air stirred up from the ocean was clinging to his clothes and fur in an unpleasant manner. Being out in the open was preferable to the cramped quarters below deck but it had its cost. Uncomfortable with the deckhand's proximity Jarrod took a few steps sideways. It helped to be upwind.

The deckhand maintained his bored expression. He took a sizable gulp of wine before continuing. "Right. Well. Listen. It's gonna- it's gonna take awhile for our boys to get everything uh unloaded. What have you got down 'ere again?" The man raised his empty hand. He managed to point roughly in the direction of the nearest cargo hatch.

["Make sure the cargo gets to Wreathwood. Make sure the cargo isn't damaged while being transported to Wreathwood. Watch them unload the cargo at Wreathwood. Don't leave until the manifest is verified. And tell the harbormaster there that he owes me a pint of ale."] Jarrod mentally reviewed what his boss had told him before he'd left Arroy. At the time he'd hoped that the last instruction was a joke.

"I am supposed to see the cargo unloaded safely." Jarrod said slowly.

"Right...right. Well you can see the cargo from the dock. Your box is last in the pile." The last comment seemed to be a complaint. The man made another pointing gesture, this time with the hand that held the wine skin.

"I am aware." Jarrod himself had loaded the box when the ship was back in Arroy's harbor. The three foot square container didn't appear to be much. But it quite heavy. It was also important enough to warrant being in the back of the cargo hold. First on, last off. Just in case the ship was raided it meant that the box would be one of the last items thieves would get to. That was the theory.

The deckhand nodded briskly. He started to say more but a loud horn sounded from above, interrupting the conversation. It was a signal. They'd arrived at their destination.

[Already?] Jarrod went back to the rail and leaned over. Sure enough the anchor was being dropped and ropes prepared. [Time to go.] With a hurried nod to the deckhand Jarrod began walking toward the boarding ramp. His hand hovered over the railing the entire way though he was forced to dodged a few of the working sailors.

Despite the deckhand's prediction it only took the workers twenty minutes to get to 'his' cargo. Jarrod watched the box be loaded, by two of the workers, onto a small cart that had been waiting for it. Next to the cart stood a young human male of indeterminate years. The cart was simple wood painted dark blue with a stylized flower on the side etched in silver. A matching symbol was stamped on the cargo. The young man signed the receipt with an unnecessary flourish before making a quick snapping hand motion. Two servants seemed to materialize from the shadows to push the cart. Jarrod continued to watch the small party until they disappeared into the street crowd. His latest job was now complete.

Jarrod bid a brief farewell to the captain of the merchant vessel. He was informed that the ship would be leaving within three days and that he was welcome to join the crew for the return trip for a standard travel fee. A nice offer, to be sure, but one that Jarrod was not interested in. He had things to do in Wreathwood before he returned to Arroy.

[But where to first?] Jarrod began to walk across the dock toward what he hoped was the center of the city.

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Winding through streets and alleys, Alistair led the two nearly every which way and it was becoming clear he was lost. Nothing made this fact more evident than when he led them back to the same corner that he had nearly run into them.

"Well, this looks awfully familiar..." he thought aloud. "I think I may have taken a wrong turn a few streets ago." The mage turned back and slipped between Basitin and Keidran to walk down the opposite road. With no more that twenty paces from the intersection, surely enough they came across the scrivener's shop he'd been searching for. Swiftly he stepped inside, the bells above the door jingling as it was pushed open, and he began scanning through the shop shelves without so much as a glance towards the owner.

"Hello to you as well," the shop owner muttered as he eyed the peculiar patron with a quizzical look.

 

[CounterAttack]

As Hazel got to her feet, she heard a horn in the distance; that meant a ship was coming in to dock. The petite woman got up and headed away from the docks, though she stuck around to see if she recognised anyone on board. The vessel appeared to be similar to the cargo and transport ships Hazel recognised. Her guess was soon confirmed by deckhands and other workers unloading crates, including one seemingly special one given over to the care of a young man and his cart. From her distance, Hazel couldn't tell what was so interesting about it, other than the fact that the wood was painted blue.

That was after about twenty minutes of unloading, during which time Hazel occasionally moved to observe from a different angle. She was a mite disappointed that she didn't see anyone she knew, but it was to be expected. The world was a big place: the few people that she knew had left via ship could be anywhere by now.

Hazel resolved to head back to the inn at which she stayed. As she pushed off from the wall against which she had been leaning, she caught sight of an unfamiliar Keidran making his way across the docks. Perhaps he was a passenger, looking to rent a room in Wreathwood before moving on, deeper into the mainland. Since the Keidran didn't appear to be looking her way, Hazel paid him no further heed, instead turning and making her own way back into the hustle and bustle of the port city. She took her time, occasionally pausing to look in a shop window or examine a market stall.

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

As he waited for their new companion to reply, Borta cast his mind back to the fight. He'd grown a little rusty in his old age, and seriously needed to start training if he wanted to stand a chance against a trained opponent. He looked over at Terry. Strong, experianced and very gifted. His fighting style resembled the one Borta had attempted to master when he was younger.
It was never too late to learn
"Forgive me for interupting, there is something I was just thinking of." he began, addressing Chris directly, before switching to Keidran to speak to Terry "{As you may have noted, I wasn't exactly a master of warfare back on the docks, I was wondering if you could teach me to fight...}" he sought for a word, then decided pride would get him no-where "{properly?}"

 

[Athol]

Terry sat in silence for a bit while he translated what Borta had said. Heh, must've forgot I said I wasn't that good with Basitin...old habits I guess. "I mostly know mace and hammer drills." He said, and then smiled as the old Keidran's ears drooped. "Buut I did receive extensive sword training from some very good teachers. Even represented Idrin in the fencing event at a Tourney when I was fifteen, let me tell you some of those 'Knights' where not happy to lose to a kid. Managed to place ninth overall."

Terry's mind started to wander back to those days, the excitement and sheer terror of facing off against people, who in some cases, had decades of more real world experience than him...and winning. His nostalgia trip was cut shot though when he saw Bill waving at him from a doorway. "Well are baths are ready, shall we?" He said, motioning to the door as he stood. Moments later the trio found themselves in a large room divided into four stalls with head high screens; steam was rising from three of them.

Stepping into the closest stall, Terry quickly shed his gear and submerged himself up to his neck. "Oh tha's majjik." He drawled.

 

[Grim327]

Chris listened to his new companions talk about training, and then the group being motioned to the baths. He removed his clothing and stepped into his bath, instantly feeling all his aches and pains from the fight earlier being whisked away. "Oh, sorry for not answering your question earlier," Chris said loud enough for the pair to hear, "I'm in Wreathwood to help out where I can. I'm trying to do something better with my life, after years of running with the wrong crowd. I don't ask for pay, but if they urge me to take it then I won't disappoint them." After speaking, Chris closed his eyes, laid back, and relaxed.

 

[UnusualStranger]

As they continued to follow the mage fellow, Victor quickly realized that the man had no idea where they were going. In fact, he seemed to be trying to lose them or something. Victor was about to give the fellow a few bits of information as they just seemed to wander all over the place when he finally found the shop....a small distance away from where they ran into each other.

I swear, if he ends up doing this while trying to be somewhat "helpful", I am going to punch this man.

As they entered, and the mage apparently lacked some etiquette, Victor made his way over to the shopkeeper. He didn't really know what else he could do at the time, so the shopkeeper was probably all he could fluently chat with.

[Sorry about language.] Victor said to the Keidran, not really sure how he could carry a conversation with a partner who said only a few words he could catch. Right now, he would have to settle with visual gestures and the like. And hope that this man could get his things done quickly.

 

[Lambi]

Arryn didn't know whether they were going the right way or not. She just knew that this man wanted to help them and she'd follow him solely based on that. Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd be able to help them, but he was the first they ran into that could help them.

They entered a shop of some sorts after a while and Arryn followed after the human and Basitin. There was a shopkeeper there, but she wasn't sure if he spoke her language, so she thought not to ask him about anything. Victor apologized for language, which she thought probably meant that he was apologizing for not being able to say much in her language, but she wasn't completely sure. She nodded in agreement with his apology, since she wasn't sure what to say to him. She hoped the man they'd come with would be able to help them sooner than later.

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

"A good cause!" Borta called to Chris as he pulled off his clothing and armour. Feeling light and free from his travelling gear, Borta lowered himself tentativly into the steaming water. Its warm touch surrounded his body and he relaxed into it, letting his head fall back and his tongue loll out of his mouth.

Baths. Without a doubt the greatest thing civilization had to offer.

After a few moments Borta became aware of a stinging sensation on his wrist. Looking down he realised to his horror a brown cloud was swirling around his left forearm.

"[Hellfire!]" he snarled and pulled his arm out of the water. There was a small gash leading from below his thumb onto the back of his hand. Now that the adrenalin had worn off, he could feel it throbbing. He could also feel the bruises on his back and the ache of his joints.

"[Why am I so damn old?]" He grumbled to himself.

Lifting the cut to his mouth Borta licked at it tentativly. The coppery taste stung his mouth more than the soap from the water, but it was a tradition, and one that Borta might as well follow. No point in stopping something close to the finish line.

Once he was happy the bleeding had slowed, Borta focussed on relaxing again. He let his tense, battered limbs and strained muscles loosen, and felt himself bobbing gently. He sighed contentedly.

 

[Athol]

"I'm in Wreathwood to help out where I can. I'm trying to do something better with my life, after years of running with the wrong crowd. I don't ask for pay, but if they urge me to take it then I won't disappoint them."

Terry laughed a little bit at that. "Sounds like we got ourselves a genuine 'white knight' here." Stretching out as much as he could, he let the heat reach deep into his bones and muscles. He had been on the road for nearly a week, and off his feet for almost a full hour before he?d set out with Borta...he really needed this.

 

[Grim327]

"sounds like we got ourselves a genuine 'white knight' here."

If only he knew what I did years ago.

" I think I'm gonna go take a nap fellas. If you want something from me, go to room 4." And with that, Chris got out of his bath, put on his robe, grabbed his gear, and went to his room to take a good nap after today's events.

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

"See you later!" Borta called, keeping his eyes closed. The water was still warm but as his body adjusted to it, the sweet, hot edge was disappearing. It was a pity, but Borta didn't feel like going anywhere soon.

After a few more minutes of peaceful, silent floating, Borta called out to Terry again

"[So what do you make of Chris?]" he asked, scooping water onto his shoulders and neck, and washing the dirt of the road from his feet "[He seems nice enough, but in my experiance, the only people "trying to do something better in life" are either self-dillusional or running from something.]"

 

[Athol]

"[...ake of Chris? He seems nice enough, but in my experience, the only people "trying to do something better in life" are either self-delusional or running from something.]"

Terry had missed the first part of Borta's question, as his head had been underwater, but he was able to get the gist of it from his later statement. "[I'm gonna guess he tryin' to put a bad past behind him.]" He said, rising out of the water a bit. "[When I popped Xaiver with my crossbow Chris sprung into action right away, someone who was a little more naive would've been a bit shocked.]"

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Alistair was almost giddy as he was scanning through each and every shelf of the shop. His fingers passed over every vial and inkwell, occasionally pausing to examine one he thought look rather nice. Though, as nice as many of them seen, there was only one he was really after. Once his eyes fell upon it, you would've needed to rip them from their sockets just to remove his gaze. Carefully, the mage picked up the ornate ebony, slowly tracing over the designs with his fingertips. "You," Alistair started, speaking softly to the inkwell, "you are a thing of pure beauty. And soon, you'll be mine."

Swiftly, the mage approached the counter and presented his desired item to the clerk.

"Ah, one of our finest pieces," said the clerk. "Will you be looking to purchase today or would you like us to hold it for you?"

"Today, yes, please," said Alistair, rapping his knuckles on the oak counter impatiently.

"Would you like me to wrap it for you," asked the clerk, "or put it in a box?"

Alistair pondered this for a while before shaking his head in a partial reply, "No, just as is. I'll be needing you to fill it as well."

"Ah, of course. One moment..." the clerk went into a room in the back for a while, then returned with the full bottle of ink. He set it atop the counter and removed the topper, allowing Alistair to confirm that it was full.

"Very good," said Alistair. "How much will it be, then?"

"Altogether," the clerk thought a moment before settling on a price. "I'd say seventy gold pieces should cover it."

"A hard bargain, but worth it." Alistair fetched a small sack of coins from within his robes and set out the exact amount. Bleeding me dry, that's what he's doing... he thought before securing the topper onto the inkwell and stashing it safely in his satchel. Looking curiously at the two following him, he spoke more steadily, comforted by his gift to himself. "You know, you two are awfully quiet people for needing an intepretor. [Please, feel free to say something to one another.]"

 

[Lambi]

"[But of course. I was merely waiting while you were taking care of your business. One must always be prepared.]" Arryn said to the man before turning towards the Basitin. "[As I mentioned earlier, and I don't know if you caught it, but my name is Arryn and I am a hunter. I've only ever lived with my group of hunters out in the woods, never actually going into a place like this because we were comfortable with what we had.]" She thought that might be enough for now. Just something to start on before he'd introduce himself. She looked towards the man, waiting for him to translate what she said to the Basitin. "[And perhaps you could introduce yourself as well.]" she said to the man.