[IC] The Long Night | Medieval Fantasy

[vietmyke]

Emil snorted, masking it as a cough, Tork scoffed unreservedly. Suppressing his incredulous chuckling as best he could. This man, Tristan Baske, of all people, wanted to leave Vauclase and head north? The Bastard of Vauclase, known only for his drunken misadventures and causing trouble with the guard, actually wanted to leave the relative safety of Vauclase for certain death up north?

"Surely you jest," Emil replied incredulously, Where in Soquin would you go, how much do you think you can accomplish on your own?" pausing, Emil leaned forward a bit, sniffing curiously. Are... Are you drunk, Tristan?"

"Furthermore, I find it hard to believe you have such noble intentions- if you did, why not just ask for help? Why come to my family Aviary in the night to steal our prized Stryxes?"

By this point in time, the broodmother Tristan had tried to take with him had turned around and returned to its den, though Greytail remained, its angry eyes locked on Tristan.

[Vertigo]

R Y L A N T W Y F O R D

Durand Aviary
Night
Interacting with @ambra, @vietmyke

Rylan's escape was cut tragically short. He had managed to take no more than ten or so steps, each small and careful, before the crossbow-wielding man spoke. His words were fact as much as they were a threat, and Rylan found little choice but to stop where he stood. Ever so slowly, he straightened his back now that a hunch no longer held any merit, and brought his hands to where the other could see them.

He frowned. Had he not been unable to pry his gaze from the bolt pointed at him, he would've fixed Tristan with a glare. Some lord the guy was. He wasn't even noteworthy enough to work as a distraction for two whole minutes. Rylan swore, if he died here tonight, he would come back as a ghost and see to it that one Tristan Baske never slept another eyeful again.

Then came the crossbowman's next string of words, and Rylan quickly found his attention returned to where it was due; keeping himself in one piece if at all possible. He liked his hands intact, and the stryxes' beaks where they were - far from him.

"If I may, I would like to suggest a third optio-" he begun, but didn't quite get to finish before Emil addressed the lordling once more. Just as well, at least it bought him more time to think of a way out. A way other than a stryx's digestive system.

Rylan had not gotten too far before the lordling spoke - and the thief nearly choked on a dry snort. W-what was that just now? The bastard wanted to play a hero and venture north to die a dog's death? And he actually expected to find company on his little trip?

A smarter man would've stayed his tongue in the face of a madman's drivel, but Rylan was half-mad with bafflement, fear and anger himself.

"Ohh, so that is why you sneaked in here in the dead of the night to rile the stryxes," every word was laced with mockery and bitterness, and Rylan tried to hide none of it. Had this absolute loon not perturbed the styxes and lured Greytail out of its den, he would still be sleeping the night away in the safety of the stable. "You wanted like-minded company on your little suicide quest. Now, I do beg pardon my lord, but I doubt even the stryxes are bird-brained enough for your needs. Perhaps a dead pigeon would be closer to milord's level of intellect. Have you tried consulting them?"

Wonderful. Just... wonderful, truly. He was about to lose limbs - or potentially his life - because of some drunken fool's lunacy.

Perhaps he should've just kept trying to run and gotten a bolt to his back. At least then he'd been too busy bleeding to death to hear the reason why it all happened.

[Marlowe]

Interacting with: Emil @vietmyke, Rylan @Vertigo

It seemed like whatever this shit-hole Tristan had gotten into, it was only getting deeper and deeper. Emil's reaction did not serve the young lordling right. The farmboy even went so far as to ask him if he was drunk. Such a statement made his face flush with embarrassment. Already the boy was losing his patience. With Emil, with the shit-smelling birds, and with the that thief whose name he kept forgetting. He was going to speak more, but such thief cut him off and pestered him for his poor decision-making skills. Yes, he understood he was an idiot, but--

His temper snapped and he whorled around, grabbing Rylan bu the front of his shirt and pulling him close to his face. "You think you're funny, you damn street rat? I'll make you as dead as a wraith, and drown you as well. Stay your tongue, before I cut--"

Tristan faltered, glancing back at Emil and the other farmhand. He probably wasn't making a good image of himself. Then again, when did he ever? Heaving a sigh, he released his hold on Rylan before speaking again. "Listen. You might think I'm suicidal, or I'm drunk, of I'm an idiot. But in reality, we're all of this things put together if we keep sitting on our asses and waiting 'til something good happens. More and more monsters are breaking through our guards and killing our people. Honestly, what good is fire, iron, steel? We can destroy the smaller monsters. The ones that eat babes and suck blood from cows. But how about the big ones? We need So'que weapons for that!" his voice was rough, desperate. There wasn't a way that he was going to be able to survive out there by himself. And if they didn't want to come, he had to at least make them realize what atrocity it would be if they decided to turn him in to the guard. "I'm giving you an option. You lot can come with me and try to do something, or die here. I've been a nameless noble for my entire life. I rather die trying to save my people rather than die screwing whores and drinking my problems away at an alehouse."

Tristan realized that he might been rambling a bit too much. Nevertheless the angry fire that was burning inside of him had been smothered with his words. He released a short, exasperated breath before gathering his senses once again. "Look-- I don't care if you come with me or not. I'm leaving town come dawn. If you want to accompany me, it'll be great. If not, that's fine. I didn't 'ask' you for a stryx because I don't want word going around that I've ditched town with the Baske sword and a giant bird. All with the help of the Durand boy. Don't you think that's a bad idea?" he paused. "All I need is a place to stay til dawn. Before the city guard switches. If you have it within you to let me stay til then, I'll be in your debt."

[vietmyke]

"To be fair, we probably wouldn't have given you a Stryx even if you had asked. It was more of a question about- nevermind." Emil sighed with an exasperated tone. To be honest, Emil hadn't expected to see such passion about anything other than drinking and whoreing from the young Baske boy. His words weren't entirely untrue either- the town was essentially defenseless when it came to the larger and more dangerous monsters, and they had to do something. Emil had just figured that it'd be someone else to decide to go figure it out. Maybe he had misjudged the Baske boy- or maybe Tristan was just batshit insane.

He looked to his hired guard, "Ah, well, what do you suppose we do with them, Tork?"

"I still say lop off their hands and call it a night."

Emil shrugged, he didn't know why he had asked. Tork was always eager to make examples out of thieves- and very few thieves ever tried to steal from the Aviary, mainly because taking a Stryx wasn't quite like taking a horse. A horse, so long as you had the reins, a bit and saddle would follow instructions. A stryx? Not so much, bonding with the birds took some time- hell, not even Tork could climb onto Greytail's back without the bird trying to gore his face with its beak. Emil waved Tork away, who with a huff, shouldered his crossbow and began walking back to the house. Emil gestured at the barn that Greytail had come out of- its door still ajar.

"Alright Baske, you want a place to stay, you can sleep in there. I'm fairly confident none of the Stryxes in that barn have developed a taste for human flesh yet." This was a bluff- in fact none of the Stryxes at the aviary had a taste for human flesh- one of the few perks of keeping them domesticated. They'd still claw and tear a man's arms and legs off, but they wouldn't eat him. "You too," he added, looking at the other boy- though this time it felt less like an invitation and more like a forceful suggestion.

"Greytail will keep an eye on you guys tonight. Goodnight."

[Vertigo]

R Y L A N T W Y F O R D

Durand Aviary
Night
Interacting with @ambra, @vietmyke

If there were signs heralding Tristan’s outburst, Rylan was ignorant of them all.

By the time he noticed the other’s intentions, it was entirely too late. He felt a sudden, powerful yank - and the next he knew, he was staring up into eyes ablaze with fury. Rylan stiffened like a cat cornered, ready to lash out at the sudden threat before it lashed at him. Sword. Tristan, this mad fool, had brandished a sword earlier. It only took one angry swing, and--

Instinct brought the thief’s hand to the hilt of his hidden dagger - but reason kept him from unsheathing it. No. If he pulled out a blade first, he would do naught but seal his fate. It wouldn’t matter if he was faster. It wouldn’t matter if it was self-defense. He’d be an armed thief, and there was no man in the realm that did not hold contempt towards those. It’d be a race to see which pointy weapon impaled him first.

And then, the other let go.

Rylan had been leaning so far back from the man’s anger that he nearly fell on his ass the second he regained control of his body. He stumbled backwards, trying to put as much distance between himself and the absolute madman as he could - without catching the ire of the other madman armed with a crossbow.

Because heaven forbid someone not want to kill him tonight.

Tristan launched into some sort of a spiel about saving the world once more, but Rylan only caught half of it. He was still half-deaf from the gush of blood and adrenaline in his ears.

He caught the gist of it, though. And while the other wasn’t wrong about the state of affairs he described, Rylan quickly realized that he and this bastard had quite a different set of values. He, for one, would much rather die with his cock in a whore and mind in blissful stupor than playing hero in some distant land.

Of course, he’d much rather not die at all.

Not that he was willing to say any of that out loud. He rather liked his tongue where it was.

Rylan could not say he was surprised when the Durand boy offered the noble a place for the night when asked - though he was taken aback by the sleeping arrangements. The boy had a sense of humour.

The scoundrel found himself grinning despite himself. The thought of this infuriating bastard having to sleep among the stryxes made him feel like there was justice in the world yet.

"You too.”

... Or not.

“With--” Rylan blurted before he could catch himself, one finger jabbed in Tristan’s general direction. With that guy, he continued soundlessly, hoping his glare conveyed his sentiments well enough. Whether it did or not, it made no matter. The Durand boy bid them good night, and left his little pet to see to it that they did as they were told.

Rylan shot the noble the nastiest glare he could muster, then stuck to Greytail’s side as they made for inside. Between the beast of a bird and the drunken bastard, he found the latter a much bigger danger. Who knew when he’d fly into another fit of rage and make true his threats. No, tonight, he would stick to the bird’s side like a sailor stuck to a pint of ale.

Guess he would finally find out whether stryx feathers were soft or not.

[Marlowe]

Interacting with: Emil @vietmyke, Rylan @Vertigo

The morning sun had long since hidden behind the horizon. Tristan wondered if they would leave before the sun graced the little city, but he realized that they would have to. Dawn meant the changing of the guard, and if the guard noticed them leaving, then they'll be lucky if they don't get flayed for trying to escape. And that is why Tristan woke up early, smelling like hay and bird shit. He opened his satchel, careful to inspect the contents. A sweet roll for today's breakfast, a waterskin, an assortment of fruit and other pastries, along with various types of cured slabs of meat that were bunched with the rest of his food. It should last enough time until they reached the other city.

Groggily, he lifted himself from the hay. The bird had kept him warm during the night. Along with the thief. He didn't check to see if Rylan was awake. Knowing the man, he was, but he really didn't want to deal with him this early in the morning, Tristan was tired and sore. Hay sure wasn't a good substitute for a soft bed... oh well. He'd have to get used to it. Who knew, maybe hay would be the best case scenario somewhere down the line.

Tristan walked toward Emil's home and peered through the window. Luckily, with enough strength, it nudged open and allowed him to slip inside without much noise. "Emil," he whispered harshly. He wasn't sure if his farmhand would be happy if Emil left the aviary. Especially if they weren't sure when they'd come back. Would they even come back? The thought frightened him. "Emil!" he called again, stepping deeper into the abode.