Jintaru

Dark Magic of the Ancient Gods [Chapter 2] - Medieval & Fantasy

Jintaru turned towards Nomi, the smile that had once parted his lips fell away. "It's the first time today I have found something worth smiling about." He said. He looked around, they ought to leave soon, the dead would soon being attracting more than mere carrion birds, and Jintaru certainly didn't want any unnecessary attention from the law. As he glanced back towards Ornestoro, he saw the man staring at Nomi and knew that the D'ol Dathri's mind was working overtime to process this new information and formulate a plan. Jintaru didn't know what the scroll depicted or where it had come from, he didn't care to, but he knew that Ornestoro knew. He could see in his friend's eyes that he knew what it was, and that it was extremely valuable.

"If that is what you seek, czandur, you will get plenty of exercise just trying to acquire it."Ornestoro began. "Although I am troubled. You are like the child who has found the father's crossbow...you are so enraptured by your new prize that you have no idea the danger you are in." He flashed a smirk at Nomi. "What you seek are crystals, or more precisely, several shards which combine to form a single, larger crystal. The power of this item is unfathomable. Many texts have been written about it but most of them argue and contradict one another more times than they agree." The D'ol Dathri crossed his arms. "I, however, do know the possibilities inherent in this object and, most importantly for you, czandur, I could find out where you ought to begin your search."

Jintaru cocked his head. Horses. Four. Mounted. Coming from the North. He flicked his eyes up to Nomi, knowing that the blind man would have felt them too. "I think we ought finish this elsewhere. We've lingered too long."

[s]The City of Swords: Corruptions End[/s] (Dead)

@Dcatanzaro682

Just letting you know that your last post came after my character left the room and went to the back of the inn.

Not sure whether or not folks want me to delete my last post and respond retrospectively to yours of if you want to alter your post instead.

As it stands, the timeline doesn't make sense

- Jin

[s]The City of Swords: Corruptions End[/s] (Dead)

Posted, guys. Apologies for the lack in quality of this one, got a lot going on at the moment. MUST TRY HARDER

[s]The City of Swords: Corruptions End[/s] (Dead)

Though he didn't know who he was waiting for, when he heard the password murmured from behind the bolted door and the same door he had walked through swing open, he knew it was those same enigmatic conspirators who had walked in. He didn't turn in his seat, he didn't look at them, he didn't need to, he knew there would be a rallying cry of some sort. He would be foolish to think he was the only on in The Stiltwalker's Fall who was here for the same meeting. He finished his tankard and gestured to the barkeep for another. He had a feeling this was to be a long night. What he did see was a hooded figured disappear into the back of tavern. Whilst effective at concealing one's identity, a hood is not a subtle way of hiding the fact that is what you are doing. Trask always found his eyes drawn to those who appeared to be hiding something, and this new arrival was no exception.

When time was called by the tavern's owner and the drunken patrons voiced their disquiet with various degrees of aggression, Trask found himself on edge. He had noted the sigils on the shoulders of guardsmen who had been drinking in there and, when the tankard was thrown, his hand twitched towards his sword. The last thing he needed tonight was to get sucked into a brawl. But the assorted assembly vacated without incident until he found himself with a choice.

He still couldn't quite put his finger on what had led him here. Bad decisions, most likely. But he could either finish his drink, rise from his stool and follow the rest of the shambling, booze-soaked mass out the door and back into the night, or he could still finish his drink, rise from the stool and follow the hooded stranger into a meeting that would likely cost him everything for a chance at atonement. He finished his drink, slamming the tankard back down on the bar. He stood before pausing after shuffling his leg into a comfortable position. Crunch time, Carrigan... He thought to himself.

The things he had done and the life he had led had forged chains for himself to match those of the countless others he had sold into servitude. As he got older, those chains grew heavier and longer. It was time to break them. With a nod to the bar owner, he walked past him and into the back room.

Dark Magic of the Ancient Gods [Chapter 2] - Medieval & Fantasy

Both men waited as Nomi reached into his satchel. Jintaru knew what the blind man was hiding inside and the thought of it set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. When the silver haired swordsman withdrew the claw and tossed it Ornestoro's feet, a certain amount of relief washed over him. But he knew it was merely a delay, there wa one reason that brought Nomi here and it wasn't to catch up with old friends.

"Payment does not always mean gold, czandur." Ornestoro addressed Nomi directly for the first time. As the claw came to rest at Ornestoro's feet and the burlap that enshrouded it fell open, the D'ol Dathri's eyes reflected the fire that erupted from the object. He had heard of the power of these claws but had never seen one up close, certainly never been in a position to possess one. He found the new revelation to do little to quell his distrust of the blind man. With the toe of an elegant sandal, he kicked the shroud back around the claw, dampening the fire enough for him to pick it up and fully wrap it up once more. He tucked the claw into the fold of his tunic. The D'ol Dathri knew of several uses for it and would waste as little time as possible exploring them.

Then came the moment Jintaru knew was coming. He watched as Nomi took the scroll from his satchel. He felt his hand twitch towards the handle of his sword. He felt the blood in his veins turn to mercury. He saw no such reaction from the stone-faced man opposite him. Ornestoro barely reacted, a slight tilt of his head was the only indication he had even seen what Nomi was holding. He glanced back at Jintaru and there was something dancing at the back of his eyes, not fear, more a sense of foreboding. Ornestoro knew what this thing was and he knew its significance, that much was certain. Jintaru was almost excited to see witness whatever reaction was to come from the dark-skinned D'ol Dathri. He turned back to Nomi so both men were facing him. He saw the effect contact with the scroll was having on his body. That kind of corruption was not mortal, it was not of this time. Whatever dark power roiled within the scroll, it was spreading into Nomi too. How far could this spread? If it can do this to one man in a matter of seconds, how long would it take to corrupt a city, a country, a world. The notion did not fill Jintaru with wonder or excitement. It frightened him. What firghtened him more was that his companions didn't seem to share his apprehension.

"You have little idea what you hold in your hands, czandur." Ornestoro began. "I can enlighten you. But it will be expensive." A sly smile crept across Ornestoro's lips and he took a step towards Nomi. "I will consider the claw payment for my agreeing to speak with you. The words I will speak will cost you more." He looked back at Jintaru. "Do you remember the seige in Rathia, fadzir?"

"Of course, one of the best jobs you found for me. Very lucrative...it paid for my bed and board for months." Jintaru nodded.

"Indeed, it was very lucrative for both of us." Ornestoro gestured a palm towards Nomi and the outstreteched scroll fragment. "This, is even more lucrative than that." He smiled. That look, Jintaru had seen in his friend many times before and it always meant trouble. But trouble always meant gold and adventure. Jintaru couldn't help but smile back. Ornestoro returned his attention to Nomi. "So, blind man." He began. "Are you prepared to strike another deal for the information you seek?"

A New Day, A New Dawn - [Closed / Ended]

We were in. We had a direction in which were going and you guys basically just started a new RP within the existing one.

We're several posts in per person and neither of your characters have even acknowledged that either of ours exists.

Feel free to carry on

A New Day, A New Dawn - [Closed / Ended]

@Feisty-Pants
@ClocktowerEchos
@Suku
@Bunnita

Hi guys.

Just a heads-up that @Nomi Yanimura and I are abandoning the RP. You can decide amongst yourselves who wants to take the helm but, truth be told, we've had a back seat in the whole affair since people began joining. It's still 'jump-in' so it'll pretty much manage itself but we're no longer interested and are going to go and try again elsewhere.

It's disappointing for us but when it quickly became essentially two separate RPs going on in the same thread with zero integration and interaction between them, the whole idea of why we started this thread went up in smoke.

Enjoy

- Jin

[s]The City of Swords: Corruptions End[/s] (Dead)

Trask was tired. He was always tired. As he picked his way through the streets, past vendors and patrons alike, squabbling over bargains on cheap junk, he pondered why he was always so drained. Was it the life he had led catching up with him? Was it simply age? Or what is the accursed smog that hung over the whole city like a caustic veil robbing them of sunlight and placing dark fingers around the cities throat, choking the lfe from all who dwell below it. His train of thought was broken by a man stumbling backwards into him. Wincing as he was forced to put all his weight on his weak leg, he grunted and pushed the man back upright. There was no apology, but then, Trask didn't expect one. Not these days.

"Watch where you're going, you imbecile!" He shouted after the man as he once again disappeared into conversation about some trinket or other, the next in a long line of shiny placebos the man will buy in order to fill the void that's left in the absence of any real freedom or happiness. People fill their lives with useless material things, convinced that one day they will be content, but they never are. Trask hated those people. Whether he hated them for their avaricious nature, their poorly thought out, illogical delusions or simply the fact that they still had the will to chase some kind of contentment in their lives, he wasn't sure. All he knew was he hated them.

Turning a corner, he relaxed a little, the alley into which he had turned as far less crowded than the main street and he was finally able to relax his shoulders ind fall into a decent walking rhythm. The noise of the market died down and he could hear the people in their homes, behind the walls that created the alleyway. There were arguments, crying, at one point, he was convinced he could hear someone praying. There's not much call for prayer in place where the gods have stopped looking. He thought to himself as he reached the other end of the alley and walked out into a small plaza. As he crossed the square he looked down at the mosaic set as the centrepiece. It must once have been a sight to behold, a striking mural of prosperity, but now, the scuffs of his boots joined the decades of others marring its surface, making the original pattern all but impossible to discern.

As he reached the other side of the square he ducked between two buildings into another alley where he stopped at an unmarked door. The Stiltwalker's Fall was a small tavern and one of the best kept secrets in the city. It was no surprise though, a secret that nobody cares about is one easily kept. It was dark, dingy and in disrepair, but it was quiet. That was exactly the type of place Trask was looking for. He banged on the heavy wooden door and waited. After a few seconds, a small hatch slid open and a pair of dull green eyes peered out from within.

What's the password? A voice asked.

Open the damned door, Pael, I'm thirsty. Trask snapped.

Oh, it's you. Hang on.

Bolts slid back and the door creaked open. Stepping inside, the smell of rotten wood and cheap alcohol greeted him. The door slammed shut behind him.

[s]The City of Swords: Corruptions End[/s] (Dead)

@Rook

As stated by @KingOfNeverLanD, do what you have to do first. We'll be here whenever you're ready.

Looking forward to it.

- Jin

A New Day, A New Dawn - [Closed / Ended]

Ornestoro’s only response to Nomi’s chattering was to glance at the blind man from underneath lowered brows. As with everywhere he goes and everyone he meets, Ornestoro was sizing him up. Whilst Jintaru and Nomi were good at what they did, so was Ornestoro. He knew people and he knew combat and he knew information. The three put together made for a powerful base of knowledge.

“Only one-thousand?” Jintaru asked. “I feel a little insulted, Ornestoro. I’d have hoped these men would have died for at least three.”

Turning back to face Jintaru, Ornestoro replied.

“These days, one thousand gold can buy a man a kingdom, fadzir. Most people live in poverty. When one’s daily concern is whether or not one’s family gets to eat, the chance to swing a blade for one thousand coins seems like a wonderful opportunity.”

It was true, people were struggling everywhere. It was a sad fact of war. It left in its wake poverty and broken families. Fathers, brothers and sons, often breadwinners in the family, go off to war and get themselves killed only to leave nothing for the family they left behind. The story was the same all over. During his time in D’ol Dath, he saw hundreds of families without fathers starving on the roadside, girls as young as ten selling themselves to soldiers for the night in order to provide for their dying relatives. A sad fact of war. But a fact nonetheless.

Jintaru threw a glance over his shoulder at Nomi. He knew the blind man was doing himself no favours in ingratiating himself to Ornestoro. Jintaru wondered if he should just make the introduction, vouch for his silver haired tormentor and get him out of his hair.

“I never once said he didn’t speak, Yanimura…” He began. “…Only that he wouldn’t speak to you.” Turning back to face Ornestoro, he found the D’ol Dathri chuckling to himself.

Composing himself, Ornestoro glanced back at Nomi, his expression falling back into one of contemplation and pensiveness.

“Aerla el czandur, si moy nala, fadzir.” He spoke in D’ol Dath-tar.

“Nala si, Ornestoro.” Jintaru responded. “But he has coin and a need for a man with your extensive knowledge of things.” Both men looked over to where Nomi stood, a few feet from them. “He says he doesn’t trust you, Yanimura. I told him I didn’t either.” Jintaru looked back at Ornestoro. “I would consider it a personal favour for you to get him out of my life. Darkness bleeds, I’d pledge you my sword for free if you could make it forever.”

Ornestoro took a step from in front of Jintaru towards Nomi.

“Gela urla, paeneti riil, czandur.” He said.

Jintaru turned and looked at both men before allowing his gaze to settle on Nomi. “He says payment first, information after, Yanimura.”