@Avali Saga does that a lot with Seele, though he usually takes her advice with a grain of salt.
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@EldarionI @Flightless_Soul
Saga, I’m beginning to think that words aren’t exactly your strong suit. Why don’t you just kill them? It’ll be easy enough, and I’m sure that woman’s got a bounty on her somewhere. No honor among the wicked, remember?
Seele, there is a big difference between the lack of honor and mindless slaughter. Also, tell me how I’m to fight the entire city guard once they discover I’ve killed an entire tavern?
Good point.
I swear, even the dwarf’s got better sense than you! If I ever find the man that put you in my skull, he’s going to have a very painful death.
Oh, thanks, love.
Saga let his attention completely fall away from the woman, now turning to face the dwarf. He put his sword down, resting it against the overturned table. At this point, he was fairly confident that there was going to be no fight.
“You’ve got some balls to threaten me, dwarf. Then again, that goes for your whole kin, stupid as ever. You want to rip off my armor? I’d like to see you try.” He directed that last line to everyone else in the tavern, ensuring that they didn't get any ideas.
Saga put on his helmet, ensuring that no axe or knife would pierce his skull that day.
“That woman’s a viper. As soon as your door closes, she’ll gut you with that knife of hers. I know you won’t listen to me, but one warrior to another, just keep your wits about you, if you’ve still got any left, that is.”
He turned towards the seductress, his eyes hidden by the helmet, but still glaring nonetheless. She had the dwarf in her web, and it looked as if he wasn't going to get out. Still, he had some things to say.
“Now, I can save this dwarf right now by cutting you down where you stand. You cannot fathom the strength it takes for me to stay my blade. It would ensure his safety, but being the dwarf he is, he’ll just come swinging at me with those axes. Now, on the other hand, I can leave you to your victim, go back to drowning myself in ale, and I’ll be safe, albeit with a bit of a guilty conscience. But the ale takes care of that anyway.”
Saga chuckled to himself, feeling the alcohol burn its way down his veins.
“You know, woman, I’m really feeling the second option. I’m getting quite drunk, actually. I’ll just excuse myself.”
Saga bent down in a mocking curtsy, and started for the door.
Wait, Saga! What are you doing?
A woman like her is used to getting what she wants. She won’t appreciate it much when her target walks away from her. Also, I’m fucking tired.
Saga, I’m beginning to think that words aren’t exactly your strong suit. Why don’t you just kill them? It’ll be easy enough, and I’m sure that woman’s got a bounty on her somewhere. No honor among the wicked, remember?
Seele, there is a big difference between the lack of honor and mindless slaughter. Also, tell me how I’m to fight the entire city guard once they discover I’ve killed an entire tavern?
Good point.
I swear, even the dwarf’s got better sense than you! If I ever find the man that put you in my skull, he’s going to have a very painful death.
Oh, thanks, love.
Saga let his attention completely fall away from the woman, now turning to face the dwarf. He put his sword down, resting it against the overturned table. At this point, he was fairly confident that there was going to be no fight.
“You’ve got some balls to threaten me, dwarf. Then again, that goes for your whole kin, stupid as ever. You want to rip off my armor? I’d like to see you try.” He directed that last line to everyone else in the tavern, ensuring that they didn't get any ideas.
Saga put on his helmet, ensuring that no axe or knife would pierce his skull that day.
“That woman’s a viper. As soon as your door closes, she’ll gut you with that knife of hers. I know you won’t listen to me, but one warrior to another, just keep your wits about you, if you’ve still got any left, that is.”
He turned towards the seductress, his eyes hidden by the helmet, but still glaring nonetheless. She had the dwarf in her web, and it looked as if he wasn't going to get out. Still, he had some things to say.
“Now, I can save this dwarf right now by cutting you down where you stand. You cannot fathom the strength it takes for me to stay my blade. It would ensure his safety, but being the dwarf he is, he’ll just come swinging at me with those axes. Now, on the other hand, I can leave you to your victim, go back to drowning myself in ale, and I’ll be safe, albeit with a bit of a guilty conscience. But the ale takes care of that anyway.”
Saga chuckled to himself, feeling the alcohol burn its way down his veins.
“You know, woman, I’m really feeling the second option. I’m getting quite drunk, actually. I’ll just excuse myself.”
Saga bent down in a mocking curtsy, and started for the door.
Wait, Saga! What are you doing?
A woman like her is used to getting what she wants. She won’t appreciate it much when her target walks away from her. Also, I’m fucking tired.
@Flightless_Soul @EldarionI
Oh great, now there’s a bloody Dwarf here. Tell me Seele, when were you planning on letting me know?
Sorry, I was looking at the woman.
Of course you were. I think she reached for a knife just then. Can you confirm that at least?
Though I don’t know if it was a knife, she did reach for something.
He turned his attention back to the woman.
“And you still go on and try. Also–” He brought his blade back, holding it near her throat.
“If you think a knife’s gonna kill me, you’re either stupid or an elf.”
Turning his gaze towards the dwarf but keeping his sword on the seductress, Saga felt a faint burst of vitriol. Dwarves were dangerous. If they had their toys. This one didn’t even have his armor.
“And you, dwarf. I’ve fought your kind before. Where’s your armor at? If you had it I might’ve given you a chance. I’m sure you’ve seen what a sword does to leather. But if you want a reminder, you can come over.”
Given the odds, Saga, your chances of winning this fight are small. And that’s if the other patrons don’t join in. Since the woman isn’t on your side, they’ll likely take hers.
Fuck them! If they want to die, let them come!
Saga saw his logic, however, and glared at every patron in the inn. “If you value your life, you better leave. Now. Lest this sword send you to an early grave.”
Oh great, now there’s a bloody Dwarf here. Tell me Seele, when were you planning on letting me know?
Sorry, I was looking at the woman.
Of course you were. I think she reached for a knife just then. Can you confirm that at least?
Though I don’t know if it was a knife, she did reach for something.
He turned his attention back to the woman.
“And you still go on and try. Also–” He brought his blade back, holding it near her throat.
“If you think a knife’s gonna kill me, you’re either stupid or an elf.”
Turning his gaze towards the dwarf but keeping his sword on the seductress, Saga felt a faint burst of vitriol. Dwarves were dangerous. If they had their toys. This one didn’t even have his armor.
“And you, dwarf. I’ve fought your kind before. Where’s your armor at? If you had it I might’ve given you a chance. I’m sure you’ve seen what a sword does to leather. But if you want a reminder, you can come over.”
Given the odds, Saga, your chances of winning this fight are small. And that’s if the other patrons don’t join in. Since the woman isn’t on your side, they’ll likely take hers.
Fuck them! If they want to die, let them come!
Saga saw his logic, however, and glared at every patron in the inn. “If you value your life, you better leave. Now. Lest this sword send you to an early grave.”
@EldarionI Yeah, it'll be a shorter post.
@Flightless_Soul And the plot thickens! Again!
@Flightless_Soul @EldarionI
Saga let a small grin escape. He had to play the part. If he showed his hand too soon, he was worried about what would happen next. Luckily, he was no stranger to these games.
There were two kinds of danger. The first was the direct, life-threatening kind. When you’re about to fight a man to the death, your heart races. Energy pumps through your veins, aching for you to make the first move; either ending the threat with a decisive strike, or forcing you to run and fight another day. In short, you know what confronts you, and you respond accordingly.
Then there was the second kind. To illustrate, imagine yourself in a snowy plain. As far as your eyes can see, there is nothing but white. As your boots crunch the snow and you sink thigh-deep into the cold, you feel something wriggling near your leg. You have no idea what it is, but you kick it away, just in case. Then, a few moments later, you feel more of the wriggling things around both your legs. They’re crawling up, through the holes in your clothes. You feel their scaly skin on your soft flesh.
This woman was the second kind. He wasn’t bad looking, not by a long shot, but a woman such as this could do much better than he. She was the type that princes and kings fawned over, and the type that queens secretly envied. The idea that she would bother with a disgraced knight was an alien one. No, she wanted something out of this. Also, a woman like her would never survive in a city. She'd be raped and killed as soon as she stepped through the gates. That is, unless there was a reason she had survived this long.
Just an idle thought, Saga, but maybe she’s after your gold?
True, he thought. That explains why she was here, with the commoners. An average man wouldn’t think twice if she were to try and seduce him. He’d fall into the snake’s spell as easily as a rat did. However, he was not an average man.
I’m so glad that I could be of use to this dull head of yours.
And this is why I hate the fact that you can read my thoughts.
Oh my, the things you wanted to do to that Oasian girl seventy-three days ago--
Shut up!
All of that happened in the blink of an eye. He had his plan. Now was the time to execute it.
Leaning back in his chair, he made sure to expose his coin purse, which visibly stretched from all the coin inside.
“Would I mind? From a woman like you? Can’t believe you’re actually asking me! Of course! But before we go, let me tell you a little story. Nothing lengthy, just a little misadventure I had with a friend of mine.”
He kept on, not letting her get a word in.
“Now this man, Varkas, he was quite the knight, you see. Handsome fellow, even more than me. On the field, no one could even scratch his armor. He plowed through hordes of Orcs, Dwarves, and Elves like he plowed through his women. The Elves, in particular, knew this. One day, he took in some elvish girl as his slave. It was after one of our raids, and he killed her parents some time during that. Of course, the fool he was, he decided to try and fuck her.”
He took a breath, letting it sink in. Then he continued. “He did. Then he had her go fetch him some ale. He drank it, and little did he know that only one of them would be walking out of his room that night.”
Saga paused, and suddenly leaned forward in his chair, glaring directly into her crimson eyes.
“You head for that door, or the only sword you’ll get this day is this one.”
He unsheathed his steel blade and jolted up from his chair, overturning the table and the empty tankards.
Saga let a small grin escape. He had to play the part. If he showed his hand too soon, he was worried about what would happen next. Luckily, he was no stranger to these games.
There were two kinds of danger. The first was the direct, life-threatening kind. When you’re about to fight a man to the death, your heart races. Energy pumps through your veins, aching for you to make the first move; either ending the threat with a decisive strike, or forcing you to run and fight another day. In short, you know what confronts you, and you respond accordingly.
Then there was the second kind. To illustrate, imagine yourself in a snowy plain. As far as your eyes can see, there is nothing but white. As your boots crunch the snow and you sink thigh-deep into the cold, you feel something wriggling near your leg. You have no idea what it is, but you kick it away, just in case. Then, a few moments later, you feel more of the wriggling things around both your legs. They’re crawling up, through the holes in your clothes. You feel their scaly skin on your soft flesh.
This woman was the second kind. He wasn’t bad looking, not by a long shot, but a woman such as this could do much better than he. She was the type that princes and kings fawned over, and the type that queens secretly envied. The idea that she would bother with a disgraced knight was an alien one. No, she wanted something out of this. Also, a woman like her would never survive in a city. She'd be raped and killed as soon as she stepped through the gates. That is, unless there was a reason she had survived this long.
Just an idle thought, Saga, but maybe she’s after your gold?
True, he thought. That explains why she was here, with the commoners. An average man wouldn’t think twice if she were to try and seduce him. He’d fall into the snake’s spell as easily as a rat did. However, he was not an average man.
I’m so glad that I could be of use to this dull head of yours.
And this is why I hate the fact that you can read my thoughts.
Oh my, the things you wanted to do to that Oasian girl seventy-three days ago--
Shut up!
All of that happened in the blink of an eye. He had his plan. Now was the time to execute it.
Leaning back in his chair, he made sure to expose his coin purse, which visibly stretched from all the coin inside.
“Would I mind? From a woman like you? Can’t believe you’re actually asking me! Of course! But before we go, let me tell you a little story. Nothing lengthy, just a little misadventure I had with a friend of mine.”
He kept on, not letting her get a word in.
“Now this man, Varkas, he was quite the knight, you see. Handsome fellow, even more than me. On the field, no one could even scratch his armor. He plowed through hordes of Orcs, Dwarves, and Elves like he plowed through his women. The Elves, in particular, knew this. One day, he took in some elvish girl as his slave. It was after one of our raids, and he killed her parents some time during that. Of course, the fool he was, he decided to try and fuck her.”
He took a breath, letting it sink in. Then he continued. “He did. Then he had her go fetch him some ale. He drank it, and little did he know that only one of them would be walking out of his room that night.”
Saga paused, and suddenly leaned forward in his chair, glaring directly into her crimson eyes.
“You head for that door, or the only sword you’ll get this day is this one.”
He unsheathed his steel blade and jolted up from his chair, overturning the table and the empty tankards.
@EldarionI Seele is the mind companion, and I didn't change the post; I was going to leave him at the inn originally
Fun fact, I was about halfway through my post when @Flightless_Soul posted, so I decided to thicken the plot a bit.
Saga sat on a rickety chair in the far corner of the Dock Inn, downing a cup of the darkest beer he could get his hands on. His sword was still a bit bloody from his previous job, but he reasoned that a stop at the nearest tavern would help relax his senses. It almost did. As he sipped the last bitter drops from his mug, he reminisced the events of the past day.
Many boys dream of becoming knights, to don their shiny armor and smite the savages who dared oppose their liege. The boys with rich families were the ones who actually became knights. The others, too poor to realize their dream, become mercenaries. Saga knew both lives.
As a knight, you would most likely live a life of luxury, with servants attending your every need, and women knocking at your door to gain your favor. It was a highly political life, as “fellow” knights sought to best him at every turn, whether or not he saw them as his friend or not. Above all else, they were to abide by their code of honor, a chivalric duty that all knights were held up to scrutiny.
Of course, not all knights abided by this code. Saga remembered distinctly that abstinence was a key pillar of the code, and well, any fool with half a mind knew where that led to. Really, it was just a game of who could hide their sins better than others. Saga was one of the losers, and he remembered his loss all too well. It wasn’t lust for a whore that dishonored him, it was love. But they didn’t care. He nearly tipped his mug as he remembered her head rolling from the executioner’s block, ever so slowly.
Then there was the mercenary life. It was… quite different from the pampered lifestyle of the Vangardian Knight. You go to a client that requests your services, whether it be to bolster an army or protect him on his way to the shitter. After the job is done, you get paid. Easy. The pay wasn’t a mile from the pension he received as a knight, but he didn’t have to deal with political bullshit. There was no honor or chivalry among the wicked, and everyone knew and accepted it.
He finished another mug, and found himself thirsting for yet another.
“Hey Hal! Two coin for that ale you’re so bloody proud–”
@Flightless_Soul
His words cut short as a newcomer entered the inn. And my, did she scream beauty. And danger.
Her eyes scanned the tavern, looking for someone. She had a sly eye, like a cat waiting to pounce on a fat rat. She didn’t look as if she was from the area, as she stood out like a sparkling ruby atop a pile of granite. Her eye never landed on him, probably because he was in the darkest corner of the whole inn.
He knew women like her. Back when he was a knight, at least. They could swindle a man’s sword right out of it’s sheath, of course, depending on which sword you were talking about. He knew their games, how they found their targets. It was easy enough to get rid of them, however. All you needed to do was say, “No”. But naturally, that was the most difficult part.
But this one was stranger still. She might have a way with words, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she was in fact more deadly than she seemed. For now, he would watch, and wait.
Oh, you’re catching feelings again, Saga. I can feel it, you know.
Shut up, Seele.
Many boys dream of becoming knights, to don their shiny armor and smite the savages who dared oppose their liege. The boys with rich families were the ones who actually became knights. The others, too poor to realize their dream, become mercenaries. Saga knew both lives.
As a knight, you would most likely live a life of luxury, with servants attending your every need, and women knocking at your door to gain your favor. It was a highly political life, as “fellow” knights sought to best him at every turn, whether or not he saw them as his friend or not. Above all else, they were to abide by their code of honor, a chivalric duty that all knights were held up to scrutiny.
Of course, not all knights abided by this code. Saga remembered distinctly that abstinence was a key pillar of the code, and well, any fool with half a mind knew where that led to. Really, it was just a game of who could hide their sins better than others. Saga was one of the losers, and he remembered his loss all too well. It wasn’t lust for a whore that dishonored him, it was love. But they didn’t care. He nearly tipped his mug as he remembered her head rolling from the executioner’s block, ever so slowly.
Then there was the mercenary life. It was… quite different from the pampered lifestyle of the Vangardian Knight. You go to a client that requests your services, whether it be to bolster an army or protect him on his way to the shitter. After the job is done, you get paid. Easy. The pay wasn’t a mile from the pension he received as a knight, but he didn’t have to deal with political bullshit. There was no honor or chivalry among the wicked, and everyone knew and accepted it.
He finished another mug, and found himself thirsting for yet another.
“Hey Hal! Two coin for that ale you’re so bloody proud–”
@Flightless_Soul
His words cut short as a newcomer entered the inn. And my, did she scream beauty. And danger.
Her eyes scanned the tavern, looking for someone. She had a sly eye, like a cat waiting to pounce on a fat rat. She didn’t look as if she was from the area, as she stood out like a sparkling ruby atop a pile of granite. Her eye never landed on him, probably because he was in the darkest corner of the whole inn.
He knew women like her. Back when he was a knight, at least. They could swindle a man’s sword right out of it’s sheath, of course, depending on which sword you were talking about. He knew their games, how they found their targets. It was easy enough to get rid of them, however. All you needed to do was say, “No”. But naturally, that was the most difficult part.
But this one was stranger still. She might have a way with words, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she was in fact more deadly than she seemed. For now, he would watch, and wait.
Oh, you’re catching feelings again, Saga. I can feel it, you know.
Shut up, Seele.
Gonna add a bit to my character's background in terms of how he reacts to other fantasy races.
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