Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

((Ack, you're right! I'm a silly monster. Apologies.

By the way, Dazzled, great to have you back, but Dreadlord actually had his character kidnap/move my character to his character's room. Though they kind of made a ruckus, so I imagine your character heard some of it. ))

Though she was still interested in the strange presence she'd sensed earlier, she found herself distracted by the man in the hallway. He was bowing to her. Apparently everyone wanted to compliment her today.

Wrath. He said his name was Wrath. Char raised an eyebrow. Maybe he wasn't a werewolf? That had only been a theory anyway. For some reason, Char could not imagine that there would be a werewolf named Wrath. She couldn't put her finger on why. It just...seemed that way. Sorcerer's intuition, perhaps?

But she had been wrong before. Dead wrong.

With a grin she said, "My name is Char! Wrath, what manner of creature are you? And would you like to kill the witch? Oh, also," She glanced down the hallway, "has Miss Unicorn come out to play yet?"

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Love the hue.

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"Two by two; of autumn hue; hands of sand; scoop the land; a time to spare; the evenings fare; too far from home; nev-"

"More!"

A silence fell across the bar, only one sound dared break the brute forced quiet.

"-ime to stare; forget the hat; it's far too...it's far too...mat; go to the pub; look out snub." The man mumbled as his fingers twitched flicker fast over the painting. He was not a big man, average of stature and standing. He had handsome features...but that might be more due to his present company. A messy mop of white-gold hair fell about his ears as his hazel eyes were fixed firmly on the canvas in front of him. He wore the finery of a well to do noble, embroidered silk shirt with one more ruffle than could be considered foppish. Pantaloons of the same name brand custom-tailored elegance flapped as he kicked the air under his stool. He wore little jewelry however, save for his right hand, which was covered in more rings than could ever be considered proper or comfortable.

He hadn't heard the command, or the resigned grumble-roar that came after as his associate turned back to consult his bottle. The man in question was quite a bit bigger than his fellow, quite a bit bigger than anything else around him either. The whole bar seemed ready to tip over from the way he leaned on it, no matter what protest the nails that affixed it to the ground had to give. He looked more like an oversized piece of furniture actually, abit, one that was far to large, misshapen, and covered with far too many animal skins to be used for anything other than intimidating guests. His face was hidden behind a shrub of stiff brown-gray bristles and he pawed absently at the axe that seemed fixed to his hip. Every breath he took caused the oil-lamps to flicker and the bartender seemed to have taken a aesthetic vow to ignore the giant, no matter how many times he reached idly for another bottle of hard liquor. His unlikely, though no less bizarre companion painting in the corner had already paid a sum enough to cover upkeep on the tavern for the next three months...though he had to admit his jubilation was being sobered by prolonged contact with the two unfortunate tenants. He was just happy they hadn't reacted to the nights activities thus far. Suddenly an infantile shush came from the man in the corner as he dropped his brush listening to something only he seemed to hear. He smashed a slender finger against his lips. The giant looked over his shoulder idly. The man in the corner smiled. "Got it!" He pointed upstairs. "four of them...no...wait...maybe five. Definitely, probably the right ones this time I'm almost certain of it, maybe."

The giant just sniffed and suddenly the whole bar shook. It took the bartender a moment to realize the giant was giggling. "Finally." He grabbed his axe dragging it with painfully damaging grace across the floor to make the innkeeper wince. With a woop of some uncertain emotion the giant charged up the narrow staircase with an alacrity and ease that seemed to defy his bulk. The man in the corner waved his arms as rushed to the bottom of the stairs. "No! Wait! I didn't say kill them! Oh bother...more compensation for the next of kin. Oh...destiny can be so tricky to figure out sometimes." He shuffled up the stairs after the beast.

The bartender decided it was best to go back to polishing his already spotless mugs and call the carpenters in the morning.

Meanwhile, about ten feet up and over the fur clad giant crashed down on the top of the stairs. He only saw four from the hallway, two girls and a pair of men...no sport in the women folk most likely, though he'd been surprised before. The men-folk might be a bit more entertaining, especially the shirtless one with the sword, he was a scrawny little blighter, but he looked like he'd seen his own share of fun. With an incoherent cry he leveled his axe at his unfortunate enemies, and charged with all the fury and volume of a hurricane. All the while his companion rushed behind shouting obscenities far too antiquated and polite to be insulting...though whether at the giant or his prey was unclear.

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((Ack, sorry, this post should've come ages ago. We should get out of the tavern sooner rather than later and start heading towards the witch.))

She didn't need any time to consider Wrath's offer. The fact that she didn't know what he wanted would not change, no matter how long she mulled over it. So she gave him a sleepy grin. "If you help me kill the witch, I will do whatever you want."

She had just finished saying this when a giant barrelled down the hall towards them. Apparently the excitement this evening just didn't end. Char stood where she was, determinedly undeterred. She wondered if she should ask the giant to join their quest. She wondered if he'd listen.

"So." She turned back to Wrath, Jaer and Lachdonon. "Should we leave for the witch now? I understand the need to sleep, but you all look like the sort that can stand a night without rest."

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Love the hue.

Jaer looked up at the sound of her voice and drew his sabers when he saw the giant charging at them. "Might as well," he said before disappearing, or so it seemed, into the shadows. He crept around behind the giant, almost walking straight into a beam of light from a lamp. His swords, unfortunately, weren't lucky, and the light shined down them. Realizing his stupid mistake, Jaer pulled them back and stood still against the wall, waiting for the giant to walk past before following up behind it; he might let it kill the others before he killed it.

The wood creaked under his weight, another thing that he had gotten sloppy over; but there was no time to be worried about that. Jaer crept more careful this time, following up on the back of the giant. He would stab it through the neck, probably rupturing it's spine and killing it instantaneously. Yes, that would work. His boots tread softly, not creating a sound. Where they would, or he would, put the body was a difficult decision to make.

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The man walked into the tavern, a pilgrim clad in a tattered gray robe with a cutlass at his hip and a stiletto in his heel. The man was unconsciously fingering his necklace of bronze beads, the most colorful thing on his body. He was ivory-skinned and dark-haired, with a medium build and a body of average height, he had a mane of straight black hair confined by a white cloth headband, he adorned a curled ebony moustache that seemed oddly fitting on his drawn and gaunt face. What few noticed was the scarf, which was not meant to give warmth to a traveller exposed to the elements, but to conceal a wound, days ago, the traveller had attempted to kill a bandit with a vial of acid, the bandit's last-second shield block had saved his life, the pilgrim's neck had been wounded, exposing the crimson scales beneath the false skin. And then, in his rage, the disguised dragon-man had killed the bandit with his cutlass, taking the scarf to cover the exposed neck.

Vanrius was his true name, and as he walked up to the room he had rented for the night, he saw a bizarre sight, as the giant rushed past him, pushing him aside, Vanrius simply wrote him off as a rude fellow in a hurry, the giant never knew that Vanrius could have easily done the same thing, but the disguised beast was inhibited by his disguise, which gave him the height and weight of a man, so he was flung against the wall by the charging giant. But then, he noticed that the giant was armed and was heading for the group of people in the hallway, Vanrius' hand went quickly to his blade, he felt an unconscious urge to protect the strangers, and he would cleave the crazed man in two if necessary.

The hulking mountain of a man didn't notice the pilgrim he brushed out of the way, nor the would be assassin who made his way clumsily around the hall. He only saw the woman, and they way she stood unflinching. Oh she might be fun after all, at the very least, she knew how to die with style.

His companion didn't miss them however. To the former he rushed by bowing awkwardly and muttering apologize as ineffectual as his curses. As he turned back to his rampant associate he sucked in his breath to see the former poised to thrust his blades into the giants back. He just stood there with worried anticipation of the bloodshed to come.

The blades struck the giant in the back, at the base of the neck. They plunged deep before stopping abruptly. The giant paused in his charge. He sniffed and twisted around to look behind him, ripping the blades still embedded in him from his back. He grinned at the sneaky little man and wrapped a meaty paw around the assassins jaw. His thought process was simple, deliberate. First...kill the man with the axe. Then...kill the other man with the corpse. Then...put more sharp things into squishy things that screamed and bled. He lifted his axe to begin his bloody work when his companion spoke up again, much more loudly than before.

"Everybody just calm the f**k down!" He shouted shrill and clear. He visibly shook with agitation, glaring glassy-eyed at the giant. The giant stared back meeting the wavering intensity of his companions gaze with a lazy one of his own. He tightened his grip on the mans jaw thoughtfully, almost to the point of breaking before releasing him with a resigned sigh and ripping the swords out of his back. Tossing the bloody blades at the assassins feet he looked back at his fellow for direction.

Still looking ready to spring a leak the smaller man pointed his finger sharply back down the hall. "I think there's been enough excitement for the time being, Ulric. Now go get my things and wait outside." The air of command in his voice was thick with noble bearing but riddled with uncertainty. Still, the giant just shrugged and slung his axe from the baldric across his back. Shuffling past the assassin the whole building shook with each step he took.

When the giant had gone the other man closed his eyes and released a breath he'd been holding for far too long. Looking up at the people who had certainly avoided a painful, messy end he pouted shamefully.

"My apologize for my boon companion...he's not a subtle creature." He gave them a halfhearted grin and shrug.

"Oh!" He cried pulling his pack around and digging in it frantically. He pulled out several rolls of thick parchment and started going through them, looking from one of the individuals before him and then at the parchments. Rushing over to Char he thrust one into her hands. Rolling it open first he pointed at the painting drawn upon the inside. "That's you." He said simply to the painted, a well drawn scene of her scribbling in her book three days ago. He forced the rest of his scrolls upon the others swiftly...each one depicting the bearer at some point in the recent past. Stepping back with a satisfied look on his face he looked about himself.

"Well then...best be off. You." He pointed at the shirtless swordsman. "Put a shirt on and then meet us outside. But put a shirt on first. The rest of you hop to, we've little to do and much too much time to do it in." He upened his mouth and raised a finger as if to say something more...thought better of it, and spun on his heel to marched for the stairs, pausing once to look the pilgrim up and down. He didn't have a scene with him in it...but he hadn't had a chance to finish his last one yet. Nodding his head satisfactorily he looked back up at the scaly traveller. "You come to. But be quick like."

With that the strange foppish man disappeared from sight after his behemoth associate, to await his models prompt haste.

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A grin formed on Vanrius' lips, he was pleased that he was going to be involved in an adventure, he had long wanted to sharpen his skills in battle, the last time had been against the bandit, but that had been no challenge, the mighty dragon-man had cleaved his skull in two like nothing, Vanrius sought a challenge, an enemy that could be his match. He knew not what would happen, but he knew that he he had a part to play in this tale, but he did not know what part he would play. Vanrius sensed the man knew more than he let on, with the power to show people scenes from their lives, the man most likely knew Venrius' secret, which could not happen, he would not want to be revealed in the middle of his mission to kill the witch.

Vanrius followed the small man and his giant accomplice, he laughed to himself, the giant probably thought he was a small man with bones as weak as unwoven cotton, how wrong he was, the bones of dragon-men were as strong as iron, Vanrius smiled at the thought of putting the giant in his place, and mentally pictured breaking the man's thick neck with his bare hands.

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Everything happened so fast he didn't know what happened. Some Giant charged them, Jaer being a coward and somehow sneaking behind the giant. THAT's why he hated assassins, never fought head on, always had the knife in ones back.

His muscles twitched as he readied to meet the Giant head on, but then Char said something and someone screamed and the Giant stopped it's charge. Then the man who screamed quickly came over to char and said "That's you!" For some weird reason, then to top it off the man ordered them to follow and ordered HIM to put on a shirt.

He sighed, shaking his head, he sometimes wish he was still with the Royal knights. He then lifted his head and said softly, "Can someone please tell me what happened?" he said with out really asking for an answer.

Looking to Char he said softly, "You want to leave, we leave... I am in your services till the end."

(Yea, too much happened and I gave a crappy post because of it.)

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