Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

((Basically kicking this Rp in the butt.

If you're joining this, then you should already know the whole kidnapped-princess, Branchwood-and-Atles-on-the-brink-of-war deal. If you don't, then head over to the OOC that I will very shortly launch for this Rp. It's not a long back story, just a paragraph or so.

So with that back story in mind, let's just say that some of the students from the Academy have been framed and arrested for the crime of kidnapping the princess. They have been sent to the jail in Alabar, the capital of Branchwood. (If anyone has a better name for the capital, please tell me. I basically hit a keyboard a few times to come up with these.) However, being slippery students of magic, they escaped the jail and are now on the loose through the city. Prince Aston, important political figure of Branchwood, wants them found and executed at all costs.

It would be helpful to me if new players play one of four types: members of the Branchwood military who are pursuing the escaped students, some students sent from the Academy to rescue said students, ordinary civilians in the capital that bump into them, or even military personnel sent from Atles to spy on Branchwood.

Old players, if you are at a loss where to jump in, please contact me in the OOC or via PM. I guarantee that it should be fairly easy for you guys to hop back in. If you were part of the original sorcerer's student group, then you're also on the run in the city. If you were part of the Branchwood military, then you're searching for the students in the city. If you were part of the castle group, then you are...part of the castle group.

One more thing - use location markers. I'm not using them in The Witch and the Prince because at the moment everyone is in the same group at the same place, but for this Rp it really is necessary.

Enough chatter, let's play!))

Evie: ~Abandoned Building, Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood~

It was even a risk to look out the second-floor window. When she'd done so this morning, an old woman passing the street had noticed her with some curiosity. As much as Evie tried to convince herself that it was just some liquor-addled beggar woman, she knew that even a liquor-addled beggar woman could recognize her face on the wanted posters and report her to Branchwood authorities. Then there was the fact that the guard patrols had doubled in this area - that certainly wasn't helping her nerves.

Most annoyingly, that reckless fool Aerandir had gone somewhere. He'd told her that he would be back later, but as far as she was concerned, this was later, and he was not here. If he was looking for excuses to have a duel, she'd gladly provide.

Even Aerandir could not compare to the person she hated the most right now: the prince Aston. Evie was starting to get a picture of what had happened. He was doubtlessly the man responsible for the princesses' disappearance, and to hide his crime he had elaborately manufactured the letter that framed them. But even with this knowledge, there were too many questions. Why kidnap the princess? Where had he taken her? Was she even alive? And why frame them, specifically - why Atles sorcery students, rather than the Atles government itself?

These were all questions that she could not answer. For now she was trapped in this infernal building, surrounded by greedy citizens and armed patrols. In a wider scope, she was also trapped in the city. Aston had set up soldiers all around the perimeter.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was helpless.

"Aerandir," She mumbled to herself with gritted teeth, "where the hell are you?"

Prince Aston: ~Garden, Branchwood Castle, Alabar, Branchwood~

This is where the person that had poisoned Cyrus had escaped. Cyrus still clung to life, but barely. An antidote would have to be found - and quick. It was just one of the many things that wore heavily on the prince's mind.

In an absent-minded daze Aston tore a off a leaf from a bush and folded it into tiny squares. His mind raced as he did so. They had discovered footprints and torn foliage but not the poisoner himself. Still thinking furiously, Aston dropped the broken pieces of leaf into the stone pathway. How long had an assassin hid themselves in the castle? Were there more, all of them connected to the princesses' disappearance?

The poisoner may have escaped, but at least he knew now who the major players in this conspiracy were: the students at the Sorcerer's Academy in Atles. True, they may have escaped, for the time being. Aston had been ready to kill the idiot guards that had let such a thing happen, but rather than using his anger for murder, he had funneled his energy towards making damn sure that they would not escape the city.

Too long have I run from my crown. I will have revenge for Cyrus and I will rescue the princess.

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Love the hue.

Vejjen Basteon - Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood

Vejjen could feel beads of sweat curl under his heavy guard helmet. It was humid and the air was thick with the smell of body odour in the crowded marketplace. He casually walked under an awning picking up a fruit or object and tossing it back in it's basket. He had to act normal, if the city knew they were on the brink of war with a neighbouring land panic may arise. Vejjen was sure though, the way words found their way place to place, everyone knew of the situation between Branchwood and Atles. His chainmail became sickeningly heavy as the hot day progressed, he needed results, where were the fugitives, with the city patrol it was unlikely they escaped the city.

Just then an old, drunk beggar tugged at his arm, "I may have useful information, but you must pay me for it", she smiled toothlessly.

Vejjen went from the look of surprise to an angry scowl, it seemed obvious to him she was just trying to make some quick money in exchange for foolery. He struck her with the back of his hand, she shrieked and cowered away.
"I will not fall for a drunk's trickery", he growled and turned away.

Despite his confidence in his response to the beggar, he raised his cautiousness slightly, he didn't want to look like a fool, and if the beggar was truthful then thats exactly what he'd be.

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"Size Matters Not"

Proud member of the D.I.C.A.
Floaty Cube, 4/880 experiance points

Vikilrok Miyurik-Marketplace-Alabar-branchwood

"Sending me out in this horried heat! A badger with a boil apon his ass is nicer then master Gorden!" Puffed Vikilrok. "We need more ink Miyurik! And while your out and about coud you fetch me a bottle of wine and a wedge of cheese and hard cracker Miiyurik!" Mockingly voiced vik. "That old son of a witches toad!"
Vikilrok hastly weaves throughout the marketplace, a dark look apon his face and beads of sweat pouring down his brow.

War. Vik mused. Could it be true? Is that old bat speaking truthfully? Ah, the life of a scribe. Writting, constantly. Though I hate writting his biography, it does pay well. And he does hear a lot, or he has one imagination!

Aerandir~ Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood ~

Aerandir ran swiftly and silently through the ally's of Alabar. His soft leather boots barely making a sound on the hard cobblestone road ways. Quickly turning left, then right, then left again. He pulled his hood up as it had fallen down during his escape. And pushed back into the deepest darkest corner of the darken ally way.

A few moment's went by and suddenly five fully armored prison guards came clanking by his ally, barely five meters away, and they didn't take notice. He smiled as he waited there for another minute before moving on. Aerandir had left Evie in the abandoned building to return to the prison and break IN rather than out. His fathers sword and his golden gauntlet were still in the armory....

But he had found another interesting item, an ancient pair of Ranger knifes. Something he could use in case he was stuck in an ally fighting in close courters. He also grabbed Evie's sword (I think she had one right?) but was caught in the process of acquiring the weapons. Aerandir had to fight his way out of the Prison... and barely escaped as reinforcement's came.

But before that he had scouted the three closest gate houses. trying to find the weakest one, or to see even if they were letting people in and out. It was not good to see that all three gatehouses had double guards....and the gate was locked shut, It would seem it had been for a couple of days, seeing how the citizens didn't protest as much as the should have when it was first closed. It will seem getting out would be harder than he thought. If he was alone, then yea he could have escaped easily.... but he couldn't leave Evie behind. That's why Rangers usually work alone...

He walked casually through the market, his face hidden in the darkness of his hood. Then when he was close enough to the hide out, he slipped into yet another ally way, climbed a building, jumped two roofs before slipping through a whole in the second roof and into the upstairs of the hide out.

Pulling Evie's sword, and belt from his waist, he handed it to her. "I figured we needed some sort of protection, and I couldn't just leave my sword behind." He said with a small smile. Sitting down on the floor, he sighed as his legs were finally able to rest...being locked in a prison for a few days or weeks took a toll on him... especially when he was 'Interrogated'

He now waited for what was most likely to come, Evie yelling (softy of course) at him why he risked going back to the prison... Even though they had spent much time together by now, she still didn't seem to trust him... "stubborn girl..." he thought to himself.

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Corrin Whitwood - First Gate House, City Gates, Alabar, Branchwood

She approached the vast gates of Alabar, waiting amongst a caravan of merchants who wished to enter the city. The guards were searching wagons and carts full of vegetables and other produce. Corrin was carrying baskets of flowers and dressed in peasant's garb, just a simple flower merchant to anyone who might notice. She hoped to slip in with the others and draw as little attention to herself as possible.

A spell of unnoticing had been placed on her that would work as long as no one took more than a passing interest in her, and the headmaster of the acadamy had given her an amulet of finding that would magically locate the other students and the rest of the party that had left from Atles.

"Hold it," she heard one of the guards say as she approached the open gate. "What you got there, girlie?"

Corrin tried to look as meek as possible. She hoped the spell would work, but she knew little of magic. She had been trained by the Atles military as a spy, and she preffered to rely on her own wits. "Flowers, sir," she replied to the guard. "I picked them outside the city this morning. They are very beautiful. Would you like to buy one?" She smiled winningly at the young men in their guards' uniforms and held out several brightly colored wildflowers.

"No, no, move along peasant," the guard said, waving a hand in dismissal. Corrin made a low curtsy, as low as she could with the baskets of flowers hanging off her arms, and entered into the Alabar marketplace. As soon as she was away from the guards and lost within the crowded square, she pulled out the magical amulet.

The thing was spinning about wildly, which meant that they were either spread out in different directions or dead. She looked around and cursed silently when something caught her eye. It was the wanted poster which claimed that some traitors from Atles had escaped from the dungeons and were to be found immediately. Oh bloody hell, she thought.

Suddenly, the amulet began to spin purposefully, turned, and stopped, pointing to Corrin's right. She looked in that direction and saw that it was indicating a run-down building overlooking the marketplace. They're in there.

But the marketplace was crawling with guards. Corrin needed to make a distraction, so she purposefully ran right into a guard who was standing directly in front of the building (Vejjen), dumping her baskets of flowers all over the street and exclaiming loudly, "My flowers! Oh no! The day's worth all gone, where am I gonna get money for me ole' da' now?" She began to cry on cue, hoping that whoever was in the building had heard her and would be able to at least escape the building while the guard was distracted.

Vejjen Basteon - Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood

Vejjen inhaled joyfully as a cloud passed over the sun, sending a nice breeze through the links of his chainmail. Three guards walked up to him, "Keep your'se eye out, we just had a fugitive sight'n no more than ten minutes'go", a guard said in a thick accent and nudged him on the shoulder. Vejjen nodded and stood straight, his polearm pointing up 90 degrees, sword in it's sheath dangling gently.

The guards moved off and Vejjen continued on his search of suspicious acts. Suddenly his knees buckled as someone hit him from behind, he was able to catch his balance just in time. At instinct he pulled his sword from his sheath and turned to face his foe. He felt rather foolish andput away his short sword when he saw a beautifu; young woman bawling over dropping a basket of flowers. With the way the crowd was moving most of the flowers had been crushed and Vejjen frowned at her in sympathy.

He moved forward helping her up, and two nearby guards, also surprised by the loud cries helped pick up some flowers. Vejjen gave her a reassuring smile and pulled a silver piece out of his belt pouch. It was all an act of course, Vejjen wanted to show the city that the guards weren't all that bad.

"Ma'am, there should be a market vendor on the southside who sells flowers, goodday", he bowed and the other guards handed her, her basket. It was all an act of course, Vejjen just wanted to show the city that the guards weren't all that bad, that they were normal people, just doing they're job.

__________________

"Size Matters Not"

Proud member of the D.I.C.A.
Floaty Cube, 4/880 experiance points

Evie: ~Abandoned Building, Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood~

She stared at the retrieved weapons. Then she hissed softly, "You went to the prison? Are you trying to get us killed or are you just naturally this good at it?"

She wasn't in the mood to press the point though, if only because she feared talking too much lest they be heard. And her lecturing wouldn't serve much of a point, since the deed had already been done. So she satisfied herself with glaring angrily at him.

Then she heard a commotion outside. "My flowers! Oh no! The day's worth all gone, where am I gonna get money for me ole' da' now?" This exclamation was followed by wild sobbing.

"Aerandir, this is our chance." Evie stood and began to move to the exit. "We should seize this opportunity to change our location, since it's dangerous to remain in any one place for too long."

She slipped the hood of her dusty brown robe over her head; most of the time it was too dangerous to suspiciously wear a hooded cloak in the heat of the city, but in these distracted circumstances it should pass unnoticed. Soon she was on street level again, walking calmly but quickly. She tried to feel like she was normal, like she was not a wanted criminal with the noose practically around her neck - but this was a lost cause.

Of course, she had just the luck to bump into the man that was hastily weaving through the crowd (Vikilrook). Oh, she tried to keep out of his way, but the clumsy way he was going, it was almost like he wanted to hit her. She bit her tongue down on a stream of curses and nodded curtly, mumbling an apology. "Sorry about that."

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Love the hue.

Ink, wine, cheese and crackers. VikIlrok repeatedly said to himself as he continued to absently minded rush through the crowd. Over weight and in terrible shape beads of sweat continued to cascade in a rushing fall down is brow. "Oh, I can't wait to be back in the comfort of." Vik was suddenly cut off from his thoughts as he crashed into a girl. The look or rage was quickly melted as she apologized.
"Oh no worries, it was more then likely my fault." Stumbled Vik shyly looking down at the ground. "I was too busy thinking of coarse. Umm, I really don't get out much these days." Vikilrok cuts his sentence short as he looks up and realizes that he was talking to thin air. "Oh! Foul gods! My soul laments, as my heart it bleeds in a tearful dirge! Twisted goats hair!"

Oh, how I wish for a different fate. Vikilrok pondered to himself. Something more then just the solitude of books and numbers. Tis' the way the stars fell I suppose. But for now, my duties. Quitly and with no sping in his fat feet to carry him, Vik moves his body deeper into the market.

[[[[gone for a week peace out]]]]

__________________

"Size Matters Not"

Proud member of the D.I.C.A.
Floaty Cube, 4/880 experiance points

"You went to the prison? Are you trying to get us killed or are you just naturally this good at it?"

He shook his head and said softly, " Better to be prepared if they found us again. Besides it was easier breaking into a prison than it was out of one."

He stopped as he heard the disturbance as well. He then listened to Evie...what did she think he was a twit? Of course he knew it was a perfect opportunity to move, he was a ranger after all...

As they quickly made their way through the market, Evie managed to run into someone, Great... at least her hood didn't fall down, that would have been a nightmare.

He looked to his right and noticed a soldier took notice to them, wearing hoods they did seem to stick out. "Damn..." he said quickly. He walked close to Evie, slightly pushing her to get her moving again.

As they were walking away moved his head closer to hers so he could whisper. "Soldier is following us... follow me, I found a suitable place." With out waiting he moved ahead of her, easily weaving in between people as smoothly as a snake. Soon coming to an alley, he turned quickly and once out of site of the guard, he started to move in a fast jog, turning left, right, left, right, right, then finally came to a stop at a dead end, filled with rotten trash, strong enough to repulse even the poorest of poor. Moving to the old door that probably hadn't been opened in three years, he pushed it open and moved it.



It used to be a home, but the residents moved out long ago, in a hurry by the look of chairs still knocked over. But the smell still filled the place. "We will have to deal with the smell for a while...Soldiers won't look in here, for only animals would dare hide out here." He said softly as he picked up two of the chairs, setting them at the table then producing a loaf of bread that he bought with "borrowed" money from a Branchwood officer.

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