Fat Boy Kyle — Roleplayer Guild

ALSO! Sadly I think we must consider Torack AWOL. I mean, I want him to come back, but it doesn't seem like he will be. Maybe we can open up spots for someone else? I personally have atleast 2 people that were somewhat interested :)@Partisan

I actually changed his status to MIA in the character list a while back. I also let Centimane join because of his absence (it should have been 8 including myself). As much as I would love more people to join, I think it's probably for the best if we keep it somewhat restricted. 

Not kicking Torack out just yet though, as it looks like he hasn't been on the guild fullstop. That normally suggests external problems that can't be helped and I wouldn't want to punish him for that. He was very invested before disappearing after all. Still, I suppose it does mean that I should open up his CO-GM spot...

FIGHT FOR MY LOVE!

“Yes commander, sir Chester, sir. I am a man of God and Gods, sir. If I ever betray you, I'd not only expect you to drive a knife into my heart, I expect my God and Gods to do the same.” Gawain declared. Sir Chester could sense that the man seemed nervous and wondered whether it was due to the situation, his embarrassment, his grilling, or a mixture of these factors. It didn’t really matter though. The man could either cut it or he couldn’t. He would either be a help to the Consano or he would provide some cannon fodder. It was a cold way to think about it but given the situation, one had to remain as practical and realistic as possible. “Sir Chester, I-” Gawain then said, but he cut his words short and looked towards the door. 

When Gewain’s attention was diverted to the door, Chester followed his gaze and watched for a moment as the ladies revealed the eavesdropper. He knew that Lady Buxton was more than capable of handling herself, and after reading her letter of recommendation, assumed that Karen could to; he therefore didn’t feel the need to jump up to their aid. In fact he found the edge of his lips curl as he observed them mock the man, and upon hearing the man’s Dawnish accent, hoped they would abuse him further. “I wonder what a Sunshine is doing here?” he found himself accidentally mutter out loud. Like many soldiers who had fought against Dawn, he couldn’t help but feel a degree of resentment towards them. Even to that day he still remembered the massacre at the Battle of Chalk, the friends he lost, the men he had let die. As the event lingered in his mind he felt his mood turn sour and took another gulp of his mead. The surprisingly sweet liquid tingled his tongue and sent pleasant aromas up his nostrils, making him relax once more. ‘Good ole Honey Pot Mead’ he mused inwardly, ‘I’m glad our sponsor was also able to buy out the places good stuff.’

Lady Buxton pushed herself off the doorframe with ease and took a step back as the ratman came in. As he got closer she could make out more of his features, from his shimmering mane to his emerald eyes; she thought he looked quite handsome in a rugged sort of way, not that she’d ever let him know that. He then stepped forward with his hands stretched out and gave a courteous bow. For a moment Buxton feared that he was going to make a seen as well, but it didn’t seem to be the case. “I'd come to hope more from the Consano! A rat? Here I am, willingly risking life and li- Oof!”

Buxton let out a large audible sigh as the man was shoved to one side and another took his place. Orwen of Sundernlan. The slaver waltzed into the establishment with his own trademark air of superiority and pompousness. As always he dressed in the finest clothing and wore his slavers signet ring with a perverse sense of pride. Her stomach turned as she thought of the rumours told about him and his treatment of his ‘livestock’. She knew that he had an intimidating presence and expected that there would be a few people in the room that would be scared of him (or rather scared of his money and influence). Buxton naively expected him to at least have the manners to exchange greetings with her, but instead he strolled right passed her and began to examine the troops. Orwen moved from soldier to soldier, grabbing each carelessly by the chin before examine them. She rolled her eyes and combed her fingers through her ebony hair, half expecting at least one of the soldiers to be drunk enough to make a fuss but was surprised when they all merely accepted the molestation. She hoped that they were showing restraint rather than fear; if they feared this rich toft, how would they respond to the horde of undead? 

She looked over to Sir Chester who, judging by the look in his eyes, seemed to share the same concerns. A big part of her wanted to stop him, and she certainly could, but she was interested to see how the recruits would react. As Orwen finished examining Karen she half expected him to try do the same to her, but was felt feeling a little disappointed when he didn’t. ‘Even he isn’t bold enough to try lay his hands on a knight.’ she realised. As useful as he (or rather his funding) was, she would have happily taken off any limb that he was stupid enough to touch her with. She doubted anyone else nearby would mind either. 

“Sir Chester, lady Buxton, if I may be so free.. what a shithole. And I thought I paid you all for amassing a company, a true soldiers esquadron. This is more like... like a militia. No, it's not even that. A militia has uniforms... hmm... This is more like a band of robbers, waiting in the bushes for a lady like her-” Orwen pointed at Sarah, with no shame. “-to pass by and then beat her senseless, take her valuables, take her if she's unlucky and then possibly take her captive and enslave her.”

Lady Buxton flashed him a clearly fake smile in response. Although she certainly wouldn’t admit it, he wasn’t too far from the truth so far; The Consano consisted of some battered old veterans and some random newcomers that, in the space of a few minutes, were already getting on her nerves. But as for rapists and slavers? Buxton wondered if hadn’t happened to gaze in the mirror as he finished off his sentence.

“Speaking of enslavement, do you two know how much slaves I had to sell to rent this place for the time you required it?” Orwen said with a grin, as if it was funny, as if slavery was some joke. “Two, my lady, good sir. Two slaves. I sold my best two slaves, strong men who can work the land. I hope this is worth it. I have more funds at the ready, but at the moment you'll have to make due with this.”

Sir Chester couldn’t help but smirk at this as he caught the hefty bag with a single hand, and he shot a cheeky look over to the inn-keeper that was now serving Karen. Davidas, the owner of the Inn, was another of Sir Chester’s friends and would probably have given them the inn for free. But if Orwen was paying, why would he let his friend lose out on well-earned gold? 

“It's good to finally be able to do something other than sit in my castle-keep, drink wine and fuck slaves.. I mean, maids. Maids, of course. Although I do miss my ocean view, nothing gives me more pleasure than seeing my fleet with new.. maids.. arrive at my docks. Do you know what I mean, lady Buxton?” Orwen continued, his attention now turned specifically to Lady Buxton. She felt a shiver run up her back, and it made her snarl with contempt. She, like most people in the North, didn’t particularly like slavery. The difference was however that whilst the others disliked it, they accepted it and just considered it to be a necessary part of everyday life; especially when it was tucked away and mostly out of sight. Lady Buxton certainly did not accept it, and as Captain of the Cliffton Guard had refused to send a single prisoner to Southarbour.

“I know exactly what you mean, Orwen of Southarbour Slums.” she replied, placing a loud enough emphasis on the title for everyone to hear. She had done her own research into him and given that he was the type of man who believed himself to be above everyone, she doubted he would like to be reminded of his very humble beginnings. If he did hear her, then he certainly did his best to ignore her and instead begun berating the Dawnish Ratman. “Where the fuck are these suddenly all coming from?” she asked as she walked back over to Sir Chester. 

“Who knows? At least they all seem…” Sir Chester pondered for a moment but still could find the right word “…spritely.” 

“Humph. Say, you wouldn’t mind if I used my Gaundao to make our sponsor here a puppet would you?” she half-joked, picking up her long decorated weapon and giving it a quick twirl. Given how close she was to multiple chairs and tables, it was rather impressive how she managed to not hit anything. 

“Stick it up a certain hole and make him dance?”

“Exactly.” She chuckled. She looked round at all the new faces, most either looking lost or exchanging words with others. She only knew two of them at this point and that was somewhat worrying. “Right then, better do something about this lot.” she grumbled before jumping up onto the table. “Right then recruits!” she roared, “Enough fucking about! If you are here to join the Consano then shut the fuck up! I want each of you to fill out your name on the wall there, along with your next of kin! I then want you to grab something to eat and retire to your rooms! Rooms are upstairs, and you will find that the vacant rooms have the keys sitting on the outside of the door! We will visit you one by one throughout the night, and then we will give you a proper briefing at dawn tomorrow!” her instructions were loud and clear.

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