[center][url=https://imgur.com/vXokQ3F][img]https://i.imgur.com/vXokQ3F.png[/img][/url]
[h1][b][i][color=8493ca]Chance Blackbriar[/color][/i][/b][/h1][/center]
[hr]
Chance looks around at the other passengers in the wagon, a strange, assorted lot. One with signs of noble birth, a man of the cloth, probably an Inquisitor by the looks of him, and a dragonborn savage who carried a mighty iron club almost as big as Chance himself. Certainly an interesting assortment of folk to be aboard a wagon, especially alongside a ruffian as himself. Almost sounds like the beginning of a joke, in Chance's mind. A priest, a noblewoman, a dragonborn and a thief get on a wagon... Now if he could only get a good punchline in.

Certainly, they were a more interesting sight than Chance's [url=https://www.artstation.com/artwork/DOBPR]current companion[/url], best described as an ill-humored brute with a sadist streak wider than the Titanspine mountain range. Chance shot him another glance, one of mixed annoyance and nervousness. The man was certainly not his idea of a companion, but right now, he had no say in the matter. His employer had been [i]quite[/i] insistent on him sticking to Chance for the duration of this job...
[hr]
[i][u][h3]Earlier:[/h3][/u]
[color=8493ca]"So... let me get this straight,"[/color] Chance says, looking in mild disbelief at the elderly gentleman, covered in liver spots and scowling at him with sunken eyes, seated opposite him. Two scarred, hulking brutes sat on either side of the bandit, glaring with malicious intent at Chance, while standing behind the old man was a tall, thin gentleman who looked like a manservant, but a cruel glint in his eyes indicated a hidden martial nature and willingness to engage in it if needs be. The study was illuminated by the orange flames of a fireplace, its flickering light throwing everything in the room into sharp contrast. [color=8493ca]"You want me to go to the Dragon's Keep. In the heart of fucking Gransylva. Go up to the fucking Great Dragon, one of the most powerful vampire lords in existence. And ask him for [b]what?![/b]"[/color]

"You heard me," the man said in gruff annoyance. "I want a vial of his blood, by any means necessary. If you want to walk up to him, that's your choice, but I don't think you'd be that stupid. Not to mention I'd be [b]very[/b] upset if you fail to deliver."

[color=8493ca]"Why not ask me to get the sun and moon while you're at it?!"[/color] Chance scoffs. [color=8493ca]"You seriously think any stay of execution is worth this?! Why don't I just walk down back to the gaol and ask them to get it over with?!"[/color]

His response gets him an angry backhand from one of the thugs sitting next to him, a snarling bully with messy blond hair and a small beard.

[color=8493ca][b]"FUCK!"[/b][/color]

"Oi, mind yer manners," the brute grunts. "Mind yer manners in front o' the elderly, yeah?"

[color=8493ca]"Beg your pardon,"[/color] Chance replies acidly, rubbing his stinging cheek. The old man waves it off.

"Now, now, Bert, we were just having a difference of opinion," the old man replies, giving a thin smile tinged with a sneer. "Mr. Blackbriar is entitled to his opinion, is he not?"

'Bert' just snorts derisively at Chance, but doesn't answer.

[color=8493ca]"Suppose you just have Bert slap me around the head a bit until I'm addled enough to agree without question,"[/color] Chance grumbles.

"Now, now, I believe that won't be necessary," says the elderly alchemist, a wicked gleam in his grey eyes. He gestures to his servant, who steps forwards and deposits what looks like a broach on the table in front of Chance. "I believe this is familiar to you?"

Chance eyes the thing, warily at first, then his eyes widen in recognition as he sees it. A cold shiver shoots up his spine.

"Used to belong to one Daliah Tanner, wife of one Edward Tanner, of the village of Avasni. Died of consumption last year, poor soul, may she rest in peace," the old man says, a dissonant pity on his visage. "Now it's property of her oldest daughter, one Ynnifer Tanner, who is to be wed to a bright young lad. Funny thing, though; she went to buy some food, then disappeared in broad daylight. Strange, isn't it?"

Chance isn't a fool; he knows he's surrounded and badly outmatched here. Especially since whatever gear or weaponry he hadn't hidden away prior to his arrest had been confiscated by the city watch. However, he's now trembling in a growing, boiling fury, glaring at the old man in front of him, clearly wanting nothing more than to reach out and strangle the skinny bastard. His host, however, was completely unfazed by Chance's impotent fury.

[color=8493ca]"What have you done with her?!"[/color] Chance growls.

"Oh, your darling little sister is perfectly fine," is the reply. "She's a guest at my estate, being treated rather well. Whether it stays that way - and whether she gets her freedom - is entirely dependent on [b]your[/b] cooperation, Master 'Chance'.

"See, if you're stupid enough to want to go back to the city watch to be hanged like the common criminal you are, that's your prerogative, I guess. All my efforts to get you pardoned would be wasted. And I'd have to make up for the loss in other ways. But it's clear that even if you're somehow fine with throwing your life away, you still have some feeling for your family, even if you left them without a word.

"[b]But,[/b] if you help me here, get me what I want, then you go free, your crimes pardoned, free to do whatever you want, and dear young Ynnifer gets to go back to her beloved betrothed safe and whole. Maybe even a little present to help with the dowry, even. Everyone wins. It depends on you."

[color=8493ca]"You're asking a common rogue to go in and face one of the most powerful monsters alive, all on his own,"[/color] Chance says, grinding his teeth in frustration. [color=8493ca]"You seriously expect me to go in there, [b]alone[/b], and walk out with your precious blood?!"[/color]

"Oh come now, Master Blackbriar," the old man says with mock joviality. "You're the infamous Honest Jack, you've certainly done [b]something[/b] to earn your bounty and your reputation. Besides, you won't be going alone. Bert here is going to go with you, watch your back. And to keep an eye on you, should you decide you've changed your mind."

The last part was growled in malice, causing Chance to shudder. He looked at Bert in dismay, only for Bert to wave back mockingly and laugh.[/i]
[hr]
Chance reflects that perhaps exchanging one sort of warden for another may have been a mercy, but it certainly put an unwanted leash on him. Bert just sneers at him, clearly the amused chuckles at Chance's misfortunes had worn out their novelty. Now he was just sitting down, ill-tempered, giving Chance the occasional glance before going back to brooding in sheer annoyance.

It's then that the noblewoman introduces herself, followed by the priest. Valentina and Alistair Miller.

[color=8493ca][i]Interesting names,[/i][/color] Chance thinks. [color=8493ca][i]Wonder what they're doing here, heading into Gransylva?[/i]

"Well, allow me to introduce myself then,"[/color] Chance speaks up, finding an opportunity to take his mind of his current situation. [color=8493ca]"I am Chance Blackbriar, and I'll say it's a pleasure to meet you too.

"It looks like it's going to be quite the long trip, so if I may be so bold, may I offer some entertainment for the road?"[/color] With a flick of his wrist, a deck of cards appears in his hand as though summoned by magic. He nods to Alistair [color=8493ca]"No betting, of course, your holiness, just some passtime until we get a chance to stretch our legs."[/color]

Bert scowls at Chance and looks away. Now it's Chance's turn to have a little fun at his companion's expense.

[color=8493ca]"Never mind my companion Bert here,"[/color] Chance adds. [color=8493ca]"He's just got the [b][i]worst[/i][/b] luck at cards."[/color]

Bert fixes Chance with an annoyed glare.

"Watch it, you," Bert grunts, but just mutters to himself under his breath. "Lookin' for a fat lip, you are."

Chance figures even Bert knew it was a bad idea to start slapping people around in a small wagon with a Dragonborn warrion, a noblewoman and a priest in tight quarters. Not that it'll stop the thug from whatever petty response he'll think up later.
[hider=OOC]Bert is basically Chance's 'chaperone', in a sense, there to make sure he doesn't get any funny ideas. After this, the DM is free to use him as a regular NPC. He'll stick with us for part of the journey, but don't get too attached to him :hehe [/hider]
[@Eviledd1984] [@Kazemitsu] [@Vlad Tepes] [@Zeroth]