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

[UnusualStranger]

Victor finally arrived at the room and got to unlocking it, only to start hearing a ruckus starting up below them. Apparently someone had gotten in a scuffle downstairs, and it had already gotten violent with the shouts and knocking over of tables and chairs. However, Victor figured himself not in a position to really jump into any fights, and needed to check out the rooms first.

As he opened the door, he noted the simplicity of the place. Course, he could not expect too much for the coin he payed as it was not exactly the most expensive place ever. However, it was well kept, with all the necessities of a bed, chest of drawers, and even fortunately a small mirror on the wall to look oneself over if they needed to. There was even a small tub....though Victor doubted that it was particularly warm with the water largely sitting there, but it would do a job of cleaning if the person was desperate.

Nodding in approval, he stepped inside to look the place over, noting the window didn't go right to the roofs, but figured it likely wasn't too bad a climb up to get there and get to watching the people below.

["The room. Suitable? Anything missing?"] Victor said, wondering what exactly they would do now. He couldn't exactly call it late in the day yet, but it was by no means all that early in the day any more. Besides, he imagined that the trouble downstairs was probably best avoided at the moment, not wanting to waste his coin and the rooms that he paid for.

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

Borta winced, first at the crunching hammer blow, then at the Keidran's punch. He doubted the blow would stop Terry, but he was off balance, and against experianced foes, that was fatal. Borta was unarmed, and didn't have any armour either, and the Keidran was probably a better fighter anyway.
Borta thought quickly: Fighting was suicidal, so what else could he do? Appeal for aid? No, it'd take too long even if someone did want to get involved. Ballistics? No, there was nothing effective to throw, and the range was too great.

But maybe he was thinking too aggressivly. There was always a solution, no matter how costly.

Costly...an idea struck Borta.

His hand shot into his pouch and the old wolf hurled a fistful of coins to the ground around Terry and the thug. If this didn't work, it'd be quite awkward.

Fortunately, it did. A ragged human went first shooting forwards and scrabbling on his hands and knees for the money. Then others joined in the blink of an eye, some barreling into the Keidran, but avoiding the hammer weilding Basitin. The ground between the fighters was a sea of thrashing hands and stooped forms. Borta grinned, confident that Terry now had plenty of time to recover.

 

[Athol]

Crashing across a table, Terry was just able to save himself from sprawling on the floor. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he could taste copper from a cut on the inside of his cheek. Bloody hell, that wolf hits like a goddamn sledgehammer. A frustrated shout snapped him back to the present, where he saw his opponent try to get at him through a sudden mob of people. What the hell is going on? He thought, before spotting Borta standing in the crowed wearing a satisfied smile. Gonna have to thank him for that.

Further thoughts were interrupted as the Keidran burst from the crowd and hit Terry with a tackle, driving them both back against the bar. Losing grip of his hammer, Terry was pinned against the wooden bar, unable to reach his dagger, while the wolf tried to crush the breath out of him with his shoulder. A vicious head butt to the nose stopped the next blow, and in an instant he was on the attack raining hammer blows on the Keidran's face.

A rabbit punch to his side halted the blows, and allowed the wolf to grab the front of his tunic, and throw him into a pillar. Fists, feet, elbows, and knees flew as the pair crashed about until with a mighty heave, Terry found himself through the inn door and out on the street.

The fight was taking its toll on him, gasping for breath, blood flowing from his nose; he knew he had to end this soon. Terry had barely staggered to his feet, when the Keidran burst through the door. Thinking to get the upper hand, Terry charged but was stopped short with a knee driven into his gut. The wind ripped from him he sagged, unable to stand, unable to fight back as he was thrown to the ground.

Laying there gasping like a fish out of water, he watched helplessly as the big wolf wrapped his massive paws around his throat and began to squeeze. Nooo, not like this! He thought, the world starting to grow faint. I WILL NOT DIE LIKE THIS!!! A hand flailing blindly, he scrabbled desperately for a weapon...something, anything!

Just before it all went black, he found something. It was rough, hard and heavy, just what he needed. Using his last reserves, he swung as hard as he could, slamming his weapon (later found to be an old paving stone) into the side of his would-be killers snout. The wolf fell back, blood pouring from his mouth, and in an instant their positions were reversed. Terry straddled the Keidran, pounding him in the head with the paver.

After two or three solid hits Terry raised the paver high over his head for the killing blow, only to have a searing pain rip through his left side, causing him to drop the stone. Looking down in amazement he saw the hilt of a knife sticking out of his side, the paw that stuck it there falling away as the Keidran lost strength. [small]"Mother...fucker..."[/small]

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

Borta walked cautiously out of the inn, listening to the sounds of the struggle outside. He'd almost reached the doors when it suddenly went silent. Whether or not the was a good sign, he had no idea.

Push his head outside, he saw the knife in Terry's side and the Keidran collaspsing to the ground. Borta crossed the ground to the pair in moments. The wound lokked nasty, and Terry had already taken a pounding from the thug

"[Damn it Terry!]" he growled "[This is twice in as many minutes I've had to save your sorry ass!]" he hoped he could get him talking to keep him awake. Hauling the huge Basitin to his feet, Borta tried to decide whether or not they could waste time heading over to Ben. He didn't really want to risk it.

As he staggered back towards the inn door, he paused next to the Keidran. Honour dictated against striking a downed foe, but at best, honour was an overly idealistic concept, and at worst; a delusion of a proud mind. Either way, it got you killed. With that in mind, Borta brought his foot down with all of his might onto the Keidran's throat. The windpipe, oesophagus and spineal cord were all crushed by the blow. He wouldn't be getting up.

As the pair re-entered the inn, Borta called out loudly:

"Is there a healer present? Service would be appreciated!"

 

[Baldrek]

The fight was over before Katja had found an opportunity to aid the assaulted Basitin, she had been close to throwing caution to the wind and intervening when 'Thud' looked like he had been stunned by his opponent's punch, but it seemed like someone else was also looking out for him as several coins had come sailing down in the midst of the fight followed shortly by some opportunistic patrons who momentarily broke up the encounter. Now, after a vigorous scuffle, the fight had moved outside with what seemed like renewed fervor from the sound of it, but even that didn't take too long to subside, it seemed like it was over for good this time.
It didn't take long for one of the patrons, and elderly Keidran, to head outside to see what the result of the match had been, either out of concern for one of the fighters or for some other reason. No matter his reasons he returned shortly thereafter lugging the large Basitin with him looking a bit distraught.

"Is there a healer present? Service would be appreciated!" The elderly Keidran called out to the crowd, receiving mostly murmuring and confused shaking of heads in return, even though the injury was obvious, what with Thud's side coated slick with blood, no one seemed inclined to help.

It was at this point that Katja stood up and discarded her cutlery on the table as she pointed down on the chair she had been sitting in, motioning for the Keidran to seat Thud. "Seat him, leave the knife in, I will be back shortly." She said, running up to her quarters with long strides, shoving people out of her way with little care for them, annoying spectators. Reaching her room she unlocked the door, grabbed hold of her satchel, and ran back downstairs with it, procuring the clean bandages that she had intended to use as foot wraps while she ran. Returning to the common room she started fashioning a thick rigid circle from one of the bandages as she waited to see Thud's condition, she hoped that she could at least help him a little bit until they got him to a proper healer as she had some first aid experience, but she was hardly a skilled doctor like her mentor had been.

 

[Athol]

"[Damn it Terry! This is twice in as many minutes I've had to save your sorry ass!]"

"[Hey...I wuz doin'...fine till 'e stuck meh...]" Terry slurred. It was getting hard to see clearly as Borta hauled him back inside. "[Tanks...thank fer tha' bit wi' the coin...]" He mumbled, fighting the urge to close his eyes. A vaguely familiar voice said something he couldn't quite understand, and suddenly he found himself seated. Keep calm. He thought to himself as he tried to focus on the world around him. You know Bill, he'd of sent a runner to Ben the moment those two confronted you. Yeah, but will he get here in time.

 

[UnusualStranger]

Though Victor usually didn't want to get involved with the random acts of violence in the city, it would seem that someone had done something quite bad to have someone rushing around with bandages like that. Curiosity wasn't exactly a defining trait that Victor considered, but he figured that the fighting had already paused with the rush to healing already going on.

"[Seeing trouble.]" Victor tried to explain as he made his way back down the stairs to see the violence that had occurred. What greeted him wasn't much of a sight. Apparently someone had started quite a ruckus here, and that had led to someone bleeding rather badly if the smell of violence being thicker in the air wasn't obvious enough to himself. Stepping closer to simply see what was going on, he found that a Basitin had taken a knife would rather deeply. Enough to even wonder himself how deep the cut could be.

If the fool had been paying attention, perhaps that wouldn't be lodged in his side and he wouldn't be clinging to life. Poor fool. I wonder what caused the open attack though? A bounty maybe? Could make some easy cash if thats the case...

For the moment, Victor figured just to watch and see if the fool would survive the dangerous encounter. If he didn't, perhaps he could still get a bit of money off the poor fools bad luck. As they saying went, one man's bad luck tended to be another's good.

 

[RBMidknight]

"[...I can show you that as well when we get a bit closer, it's not difficult to spot.]"

A garden and a park. Jarrod released a quiet sigh and smiled, grateful for the chance to be around familiar terrain. He didn't know what the academy was but hopefully it let the public into the garden. If not the park would be close enough. When Maya/Dusty looked around Jarrod checked the market stalls again. The lines were no shorter then they had been a few moments ago and the two vendors were still arguing. Jarrod frowned. He'd assumed the market was cheaper than sitting down and ordering a meal. But if all the humans insisted on raising their prices maybe 'grabbing' food at the nearby place was better? "[Okay. Show me.]" he said with a brief nod. "[Is there anything you need?]" he asked curiously. As he asked his question Jarrod stretched his arm back over his shoulder to brush the top edge of the axe resting across his back. Just to verify that it was still there. He rolled his shoulder to feel the familiar weight settle into place.

 

[CounterAttack]

Hazel had spent a few minutes browsing market stalls... a few minutes was all she needed to cover the ones from which she occasionally bought. She usually only browsed for what she wanted, or things that were potentially useful; if the stall didn't have it, she didn't always ask if they were going to bring it in at some point. Sometimes it was a little awkward to ask, when she found out the stall owner had never actually carried the item she sought.

As she passed another stall by, she spotted the dark-furred Keidran she had seen earlier, accompanied by another one. The second stranger was of considerably lighter colouring than her companion, and taller as well... though Hazel had not met many adults who were shorter than her. Hazel didn't recognise the other Keidran: perhaps she was new to Wreathwood. She didn't know. Would it be proper to just walk up to a pair of strangers and introduce herself? She had done it before; she liked getting to know new people. It was a nice way to practice their languages.

With that in mind, Hazel approached the two Keidran, giving the darker one a wave. Once she was close enough she spoke up. "[Hi there. Um... Saw you down at the docks before. Are you new here?]" Hopefully she had gotten the words right. Hazel was okay with using their language, but she wasn't fluent in it. The same applied to the language used by most Basitin.

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

Terry's slurred speach probably wasn't a good sign, but at least he was talking.
"[Yeah, well greed can be as potent a weapon as a hammer if exploited properly,]" he began, then broke into a grin "[and you can thank me for that little intervention once you've payed me back for the coins I lost!]"
Glancing around the hall, he spotted aseveral faces in the crowd watching the events with what might best be described as...professional intrest. And in a city frequented by thugs and thieves, that wasn't good. A Basitin by the stairs caught his eye, the one he'd seen with the human and that pretty young Keidran earlier.
Turning his attention to the female helping his friend, he decided getting Terry out of here was a good idea "Do you think we can chance moving him? I have a room upstairs, it might be better than a tavern floor."

 

[Baldrek]

Katja shook her head at the elderly Keidran when he asked about moving his friend, which she assumed was what he was due to his familiar tone of voice while they were speaking Keidran. "It is not secured, when it is we should get him to a healer immediately." She stated matter-of-factly as she placed the rigid circle of bandage around and over the knife lodged in Thud's side, once it was fastened properly with the second roll of bandages it would keep the knife stable which should keep it from both aggravating the wound and would keep the bleeding from becoming worse with the knife currently acting to block some of it, a bit counter intuitive perhaps, but true.

Binding the knife and the doughnut shaped bandage down Katja again addressed the older Keidran as she tightened the bandage enough to keep it all in place. "We need to get him to a doctor, get his right." She instructed as she grabbed Thud's left arm and pulled it over her shoulders, ready to support him once the other Keidran had done the same to Thud's other arm, but while he acted she decided to get on with the next important bit, asking about where an actual healer could be found. "Is there a doctor nearby?" She asked the still gathered crowd, looking for someone who made any sign of actually knowing the information she was after. She could only hope that that particular someone who knew where to find a doctor would actually speak up and not just stand there staring, but if the situation up until now was any indication...



Dusty kept smiling as she noticed that Jarrod seemed less guarded towards her and more relaxed, he had even adopted a smile of his own which made her certain that she was at least helping him a little bit. As Jarrod agreed to her showing him somewhere to get a bite to eat she started to mentally map a route to the place that she had dined at yesterday, if she had it right it wouldn't be too far off. While she was thinking of which way would be the fastest and still walk them past a slightly more open area that would let her show Jarrod the academy towers he voiced a question for her.

"[Is there anything you need?]"

"[Well, not really, I just called out to you since you seemed like an interesting person from out of town, and your axe made you stand out too.]" She replied to him while he seemed to adjust the sling that he carried the axe on, it stood out a fair bit even now, wasn't much use for a felling axe in a market or in a harbor. "[I think I'm right too, you do seem interesting, so... I guess you might say I want stories, places, things like that. I do a fair bit of traveling and I'm always looking for the next destination, and also just friendly people with which to pass some time.]" She explained to him, but before Jarrod had a chance to reply she noticed someone approaching directly at the two of them from the corner of her eye and turned her head to get a closer look at the person approaching. Recognizing the rather small woman she had spotted on her way to the market she didn't even have time to wonder why she had walked up to them before she waved to Jarrod, were they acquaintances? Keeping silent for now, Dusty kept a smile on her face and a friendly attitude as the woman talked to Jarrod in the Keidran language, something that she seemed to speak very well, even if the pronunciation was a tiny bit off.

 

[Lambi]

There was a lot of noise downstairs when Arryn and Victor got to their room. She looked around it. It seemed nice enough. Though she didn't recognize a thing in it. She'd have to ask Victor. Or Alistair. For now, she just looked around, getting a feel for the room. She didn't want to put any of her stuff down for the moment, but might do so if and when needed.

Victor asked her if the room was suitable and if anything was missing, but she didn't get a chance to answer as he hurried back down, presumably to check on the noise that had been heard. She thought to go with him down to check on it as well. She came down and stood beside him, looking at an injured Basitin and two Keidrans who seemed to be helping him. The female Keidran asked something she didn't understand, but she was sure she wouldn't have known the answer to it anyway. Smelling the trouble that had seemed to occur, she had her paw on the hilt of her sheathed sword, ready to use it if need be.

 

[RBMidknight]

Jarrod stilled to listen as Dusty began her reply. He resisted the urge to check his axe when it was mentioned, instead taking the opportunity to look past his companion to scan the crowd. He understood the deal now. A tale for a guide and directions. It was a good exchange. Maybe he could share a tale from the dockyard. Maybe one of the sailor tales? Those were not always true but usually entertaining. The story of his own life was too private to share with an acquaintance. But Jarrod decided that he would find something. '[What would she like?]' he wondered. 'Oh!' There was one story he could tell. If he could remember it all.

But Jarrod's brief satisfaction at finding something appropriate vanished when a human he'd never seen before waved in his direction. He made no attempt to wave back. As the young human female drew closer Jarrod tilted his head, trying to place the woman. Had he seen her before? She wasn't familiar. But more importantly what did she want?

"[Hi there. Um... Saw you down at the docks before. Are you new here?]"

Jarrod took a hesitant step backwards, his ear twitching in his surprise. Hearing his own language from a human - even one that appeared young and harmless - was unsettling. He looked over the stranger quickly, noticing the scabbard on the woman's right side. 'A swordsman?' She wasn't in any type of notable uniform so guardsman was unlikely. "[Hello.]" he gave a slow greeting accompanied by a nod. "[I am visiting the city.]" Jarrod confirmed. 'Am I so different?'

 

[Tortilla the Hun]

Alistair had been negotiating with the innkeep about the conditions of his stay, requesting to be the one cooking his own meals, when a scuffle suddenly broke out between a couple Keidran and Basitin. Choosing not to get involved, or even acknowledge what was going on behind him, Alistair was still trying to deal with the innkeep who seemed very preoccupied with watching the fight. The quarrel soon spilled out onto the streets and still the mage was losing faith in his abilities to hold the innkeep's attention and his doubts were only enforced when the Basitin and his pale Keidran companion entered the inn once again. It was apparant the Basitin was in need of aid, what with the knife in his side and the Keidran calling out for it. The wound looked quite serious given the depth in which the knife was planted and suddenly a plan hatched in the mage's mind.

Clearly, if that Basitin dies on the inn's floor, its keeper will be in no mood for petty negotiation, thought Alistair. Perhaps if I aided in the cleanup, so to speak, the innkeep will be more inclined to give me the priveleges I desire, nay - require. It's settled then...

Alistair secured his satchel then vaulted over the bar and dashed into the kitchen. The cook look quite shocked to see someone barreling in so suddenly and only looked at the anxious mage with mouth agape. "No time to explain, people dying!"

The mage cleared a space on the counter and set his satchel atop the flat surface. He rummaged around for various herbs, a mortar and pestle, and a vial full of a viscous, translucent-green liquid. Throwing some Rose Bark and agrimony in the mortar, he began to grind them to a pulp while calling out instructions to the cook. "Need two bowls, one with water, boiling hot. Now!"

The cook snapped out of his stupor and grabbed two wooden bowls and set them beside the mage's workspace, then grabbed the kettle off the stove and poured hot water into one of them.

"Much appreciated," said Alistair before submerging the vial into the hot water. He threw the pulp he mixed into the empty bowl and soon threw Goldenseal and Gotu Kola into the mortar and soon ground them into a finer pulp than the previous mixture. Once the mixture was complete, he grabbed the vial and shook it with one hand while tossing the water into the nearest drain. The new mixture soon occupied the bowl along with half of the vial's heated and less viscous contents. He used a small, flat metal mixer to stir the mixture together until it was a thin, warm gel, then grabbed both bowls and swiftly burst through the kitchen doors and into the inn's bar.

"Ah, good, you've got him up from the chair," said Alistair, with a surprisingly cheery tone as he sat both mixtures atop one of the tables. "Now, get him onto the table, preferably on his back. I need the bandages off, knife out, and wound open. Quick, while the gel is still managable."

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

Borta was more than just a little stunned by the man's sudden appearance. At a glance, he knew the man was no physical threat, at least not to someone Borta's size. He also recognised him from the group earlier. He'd have to get to know that peculiar company better later!

"Now, get him onto the table, preferably on his back. I need the bandages off, knife out, and wound open. Quick, while the gel is still managable."

The suggestion, no, order to do something as potentially fatal as removing the knife stunned Borta. Was the man mad? But he didn't see any other options... Borta elected to be trusting.

"If you help him, you gain gold." He said, standing aside "If he dies, you gain seven pints of crimson dye for your robe." Borta smiled grimly, then glanced at the other two

"[Assuming you trust him?]"

 

[UnusualStranger]

While Victor HAD been planning on making something out of the mans death if it had happened, it seemed that Alistair had other plans. Noting that this was going to get foolish before it was going to get beneficial, he decided he might as well step in and do what he could as well. Stepping forward, he figured he might as well be prepared to do things as foolishly as the mage was, and simply grabbed the knife. He was pretty sure as he did this the man who coincidentally stepped out of his way said something about "trust". This was obviously some sick way the Fates planned at getting back at him for some slight. Too late to take a step back now!

"You had damn well better not mess this up...." Victor growled, obviously not pleased that he got tossed into ANOTHER situation trying to assist someone in this damned city. He would have to get out of here soon before he started offering to do work for free, or donating all his coin to some foolish quest or another.

"On 'pull', alright? Three...two...one...PULL." Victor counted down quickly to make sure no one really had a chance to give him any problems about the absolutely foolish thing he was about to do to this fellow who he had planned on letting just go in the first place. Just as he said, he pulled the knife hoping that Alistair was quick to use....whatever it was he had whipped out of nothing. The bandages and all that had been wrapped about had torn quite easily, since they seemed to be more focused on keeping the knife from jostling about rather than someone directly pulling on it like this.

I hope this fellow isn't one of those crazy ones...I hate it when those oddly nice people end up going absolutely out of their mind and start killing. Leave a bad taste. Here's to hoping....

 

[Athol]

Terry turned his head slightly as Alistair and Victor approached. "Hey...know you..." He mumbled weakly.

"On 'pull', alright? Three...two...one...PULL."

Anything else he was going to say was lost in a gasp of pain as the knife was pulled free. Sturdy though he was, the pain was too much and he blacked out.
------------------

The door banged open suddenly, revealing one of Bill's stable boys and a balding human carrying a canvas satchel. "Excuse me, healer coming through!" The man said, pushing through the crowd. "Don't you have better things to do?" Stepping up beside Victor the man let out a pained sigh when he saw the patient. "Damn it Terry not again!"

Digging in the bag, he began pulling out some supplies. "My name is Benjamin F. Pierce, I'm a healer." He said without looking up. Pulling what appeared to be a set of sheers from his bag he looked up, seeing Borta for the first time. "Well this is a surprise." He chuckled. "Why do I get the feeling that Terry was partially responsible for your visit earlier?"

With the old wolf's help they rolled Terry onto his side, so Ben could cut the leather tunic away; that done, he fished some gauze from his bag, and turned to the female Keidran. "You there.? He said grabbing her hand. "Keep pressure on the wound."

Satisfied he looked around, spotting the vial. "Let me see that." He said. Lifting it to his nose he sniffed it, and then smiled. "Good, good actually that's what I was going to use." Taking Katja's hands off the wound, he sniffed it and satisfied with what he found, picked up a small bag. From the bag he sprinkled a fine, flour like powder into the wound before applying the gel.

That done Ben opened a small metal case, and took from it a spool of thread and a curved needle. Threading the needle, he rapidly sewed the wound shut before wrapping it in a bandage. Once he'd finished, he put Terry on his back again, and tended to his other minor cuts from the fight.

 

[UnusualStranger]

After pulling the weapon free, Victor found himself stepping to the side as an odd fellow walked over to look at the man, who was apparently named Terry, and just started talking. He was a healer named Benjamin Pierce, and apparently had to deal with this foolishness often. Victor couldn't help but wonder how poorly this man fought if he needed healing from this all the time, but if the man was still alive he had something going for him.

However, he couldn't help but note that the man seemed to know quite well what he was doing, and he did it quite well. Victor imagined that perhaps he had experience as a combat healer, most likely needing to do things in a matter of seconds rather than rely on slow acting healing herbs and spices. With the larger cut now treated, and his sudden act of pulling the knife out, it seemed that everything was going to calm down...Now if only these people would stop staring. He turned his gaze to them, and some of them quickly began to find their lives much more exciting than the now defused situation. No doubt some of their tongues would still wag about this later, but at least they weren't staring as much any more.

"Not bad, Benjamin. That was quick work." Victor complimented, and then nodded to Alistair. "And that was a bit rash, but impressive as well."

 

[InkBlot Royalist]

Borta released a deep sigh of relief when the healer arrived. He was aware that a large number of people seemed to be encroaching on the table, so Borta elected to step back out of the way of the proffesionals, only nipping forward to shift Terry's bulk at Ben's order.

Once the immediate healing had been delt with, Borta felt well and truelly drained. And invigorated. No matter what, this had been the most exciting day he'd had since...heaven knew how long! Looking at the robed figure and the Basitin, Borta decided it was a good time to repay a debt.

"My thanks you two" he began, now confident that they both understood the human tongue "I greatly appreciates your help."

 

[CounterAttack]

"[Hello. I am visiting the city.]"

The Keidran's answer was a simple and not very informative one. Hazel wanted to know more about this stranger, and possibly his friend. "[My name... Hazel Katriana. May I join you both? If you need a guide, I know my way around the city. Been here many times before,]" she explained in her slightly broken attempt at Keidran. She was going to have to brush up on both non-human languages and practice them. It was a little embarrassing, being unsure of one's own speech.