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Post by Peregrinus on Oct 9, 2011 12:40:12 GMT -5
The lovely Village of the Bards was one of the happiest places on earth. At every time of day, one could stroll through the busy town listening to the songs of glory of warriors long past, dance at the numerous halls that were filled with lovely maidens, or gamble at the two pubs that had not only free drinks but beautiful women who would love to keep you company while you play. It was a town of quick money and even quicker loses. A person might be the richiest in town one day, then begging on the streats the next. It drew people in from all around. And in many minds, it was the best city in all the land!
Peregrinus hated coming to this town! It bred filthy, devilous character like an ant queen breeds workers. Everyone was always "great to see you" but never remebered your name. Peregrinus was only known as the crazy guy that brings in animal skins every other week or so. He could have been something more, but the ranger refused to get sucked into this cesspool of greed. For Peregrinus, it was get his money and supplies then get out of town before somebody decided they 'needed' him for something.
"Here ya go, Thadious. Two deer skins, cleaned and salted like usual," Peregrinus said simply, placing the wrapped skins onto the corner. Thadious might not have given him the best piece, but he never tried to bargain with him so Pere always respected him for that.
"Thank you, ranger. For your services...and liitle extra for your loyalty. Go have a drink and some fun. Its on me," the trader replied.
"Thanks," Peregrinus said, "I'll think about it."
The ranger then proceeded through the market place searching for something that might catch his eye that he could spend on with the extra money he had recieved.
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Post by Princess Anne on Dec 30, 2011 17:08:06 GMT -5
Towards the back of the marketplace, which had a looming shade over it, a figure wrapped all over in dull cloth began to set up a display. The figure laid a few wooden crates out, draping a simple and slightly dusty black cloth over it. Soon, the figure began to place three unusual swords and 3 strange looking artifacts onto the cloth. All of the items did not even resemble what was used in the current era. They were all very strange, but not too unfamiliar.
All that was visible on the mysterious cloaked vendor were the eyes and hands. The figure noticed Pere's profile and immediately showed an interest in getting his attention.
"You there, handsome ranger! Come take a look a these ancient artifacts! They will aid you on your many dangerous journeys, I guarantee it!" the artifact vendor called out to Pere over the crowd. The cloaked vendor attempted to sound like a "mysterious old lady," but it was not working out that well.
A brutish looking warrior walked over to the vendor's display, eyeing the artifacts. He was quite large, but didn't look too intelligent. "How much ya want for this rusty deformed sword?" the brute warrior snarled.
"You're better off sticking with beginner short swords. You don't even have calluses yet... cough, I mean, that'll be 500 gold deary" the cloaked vendor temporarily got out of "accent."
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Post by Fearn on Dec 31, 2011 17:13:16 GMT -5
Not surprisingly, the potato vendor was bored. As usual, a slow but steady trickle of customers stopped by her stall to buy the large and dirt-coated spuds; people always wanted potatoes, but never many of them at a time. Unlike the other vendors, the potato vendor could not engage in the orderly, strangely ritual bargaining that other vendors did with their customers. There was a set price for potatoes, based on the supply and demand at the time, and the shoppers in the bustling market understood that.
Sighing, the plainly dressed vendor scanned the crowd for anything or anyone vaguely interesting. A shrouded, slightly stooped form that she did not recognize caught her eye. Who might this newcomer be? the potato vendor wondered. Whoever it was appeared to be acting the part of an ancient, mysterious crone – but rather badly, the potato vendor observed, thingying an eyebrow at the “crone’s” striking agility.
Though a poor actress by any account, the antiques dealer seemed to possess a certain thingyiness that the potato vendor couldn’t help but admire. She did not seem at all phased by the animal-like warrior, and appeared entirely too comfortable with the idea that she could potentially boss around a ranger – and one that the potato vendor happened to know was a formidable fighter, having tagged along on a particularly foolhardy adventure with him years ago, before she gave up adventure for potatoes. The potato vendor made up her mind to tail the antiques dealer if she could. After all, no one would expect anything of a simple potato famer. If the dealer gave her trouble, she could just say she was lost, and chances were, the dealer would believe her, no questions asked. As dull as selling potatoes was, she had to admit, it did have its advantages.
Reason for Editing: I made an oopsie.
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Post by Princess Anne on Jan 2, 2012 11:27:49 GMT -5
The brutish warrior immediately laughed in an overly obnoxious manner at the idea of paying 500 gold for the cloaked vendor's antique sword.
Without any hesitation he snatched the old sword off of the display, turned around and casually walked away, still snarling with laughter. He threw 10 gold coins over his shoulder that bounced off of the vendor's head and onto the ground. The cloaked vendor's eyes seemed to flare up with rage. Things weren't destined to end to well for the brute warrior.
After joining two friends who looked similar to himself, the ogre-like brute decided to venture over to the potato vendor's booth, which was only a few meters away. They snarled and spoke to each other in their own language, laughing in between. The smaller of the three brute ogres swiped some of the larger potatoes from the display and promptly ate them. He hit his chest with his fist and released a loud, putrid belch right at the potato vendor as a way of "intimidation."
All of the brutes laughed and simply began eating more of the vendor's potatoes.
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Post by Fearn on Jan 3, 2012 3:30:10 GMT -5
The potato vendor was still musing over whether the brutish warriors harassing the antique dealer were humans or ogres when they stomped over to her stall, and began helping themselves to potatoes. For a moment, she merely stared blankly, a look of annoyance and disbelief on her face.
Paying a certainly crooked antiques dealer what she deserved was one thing, but stealing the farmer’s potatoes, which currently served as her sole source of income, was a different story all together. The ogre’s belch merely caused the farmer to thingy an eyebrow in incredulity. “Really? You have got to be joking,” she snorted, unimpressed. She picked up a particularly rotten potato, and lobbed it at the smallest ogre’s head. “Fine. Have it your way – take as many as you like!”
No longer bored, the potato vendor was grinning like a Chessy cat as she continued to hurl half-sprouted potatoes at the ogres. They might force her to run, but she wasn’t too concerned. She had dealt with ogres in the past, after all.
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Post by Elka on Jan 3, 2012 12:36:11 GMT -5
Elka stumbled sleepily out of her room, fumbling with the keys to her door. Waking up late again, third time this week! She’d never hear the end of it. There was never much to look forward to these mornings, though, it seemed. Working in the city library had to be the most boring jobs known to mankind. Nothing much happened there – people came, looked at books, borrowed books, stole books, tried to sleep on books, and once or twice attempted to eat books. Elka’s job was to promote the first two and prevent the rest. In a place like the Village of the Bards, though, there wasn’t much interest in libraries, and people rarely stopped by unless intoxicated enough to mistake the library for a pub. But the money that Elka’s family had once had was gone now, and living off of the spoils of her previous adventures was hardly practical anymore. Respectable jobs were hard to find, so she had gone for the first job available, tedious as it was. Hurrying through the crowded market, Elka barely noticed the commotion going on around the potato stall. Something was always going on here, rarely of any interest to her. People were drunk at all times of day, causing minor chaos wherever they went. It wasn’t Elka’s business.
But then a potato hit her in the back of the head. Her patience was at its end. She whirled around, facing the perceived culprit, a rather ugly man who looked somewhat ogrelike.
“Oy! What the hell do you mean by that?” she snapped at him, lobbing a spud right back at him. “Some of us have lives, you know!”
Suddenly she noticed the potato vendor. Something about her seemed familiar… and the missing ear was a dead giveaway. “Fearn, you old turd, what on earth are you doing here?” she asked, utterly bemused, potatoes forgotten for the time being.
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Post by Fearn on Jan 6, 2012 16:28:03 GMT -5
The potato vendor flinched as one of her potatoes struck a woman in the back of the head. “Whoops…” she whispered under her breath, turning her back so the woman wouldn’t see. Hitting random passersby couldn’t be any too good for business, after all. The ploy worked: the woman began berating the ogre-like fellows who had been gobbling the vendor’s potatoes moments earlier. Perfect, the vendor thought, settling down on a stool with a smug, self-satisfied grin. The ogres will be occupied with this screeching harpy, and I can go back to people-watching without fear of having my livelihood devoured before my little eyes.
Or so she thought: the woman turned out to recognize her as Fearn, former thief and imbecile of Trian. Fearn blanched. “Don’t call me that, Elka! I just escaped prison two years ago… I don’t want to go back,” she hissed, pulling the librarian close. “I’m known as Agnes now. Dreadful, right? Still, use it!”
Fearn glanced around at the ogres, who were now advancing menacingly. Their hands strayed too close to their weapons for Fearn to feel entirely comfortable with the situation. “Elka… just go. I need to sort something out with these costumers,” Fearn muttered, eyes darting around the stall, searching for things she could use as makeshift weapons or obstacles should things get too far out of hand. “And incidentally, hello.”
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Post by Peregrinus on Jan 7, 2012 19:45:11 GMT -5
Peregrinus paided the "old woman" little attention. So little in fact, the ranger did not even notice that the "old lady" was not an old lady at all. He was used to the many schemes people tried to play on the unwary shoppers of this town. However, he was rather interested in the nice daggers the shop vendor next to the "old woman" had for sell. He had broken the tip off his just the other week trying to pry a rock from his shoe.
"How much for this one with the deer horn handle?" He asked, fingering the money in his hand. However, he did pay attention when he was nearly run over by the brutish man!
"Hey! Shove off pal!" He yelled after the man before returning to continue his shopping. However, the stall owner was now intriged by the commotion going on at the potato shop. Peregrinus groaned uncontrollably. He might as well give up on the knife. From the sound of things, the market place was about to turn into a brawl and the ranger did not want to be caught in the middle of it.
Man, he hated this town!
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Post by Princess Anne on Jan 10, 2012 14:04:16 GMT -5
The brutish orges, angry that they were being bombarded with spuds snarled and temporarily tried to shield themselves. However, one of them was hit pretty dang hard in the eye, which sent him off the edge. And that brutish orge just happened to be the one who had stolen an antique exotic sword not much earlier. He did not know how to correctly use the sword, and his furious emotions got the best of them. The brute took a strong downward swipe with the sword still in hand, snarling loudly, chopping the potato vendor's display table right in half.
Other vendors in the marketplace grew restless and frightened. Some got so frightened they packed up and sped out as fast as they could. One of the other orge brutes picked up one half of the chopped table and hoisted it above his head before slamming it onto the ground, barely missing Elka. The orge brutes were literally going insane with rage. In their heads, no humans were going to embarass them... especially by using potatoes as weapons. The last of the three orges took a broken off plank and started using it like a baseball bat at another nearby vendor's display.
Watching the madness from a few meters away, the cloaked antique weapon vendor pulled out a crossbow from under her display, loaded an arrow, and started to wind it up. She leaped onto her own display table, aiming at the brute orge who was closest to Elka. The cloaked vendor fired the crossbow's arrow promptly at the back of the orge's head, which pierced through effortlessly and the front of the arrow was seen through his open mouth as he fell forwards into the display's debris.
"You guys okay!?!? Ahem, I mean --- Are you dearies alright!?" the cloaked vendor called out to Elka and Fearn, still using her horrible old lady impressionist voice. She began loading up another arrow into her crossbow. "You might want to step away, they release a really bad smell when they're dead!"
Reason for Editing: reapeated words, oy
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Post by Peregrinus on Jan 10, 2012 15:31:14 GMT -5
The ranger was trying his best to ignore the growing brawl that was sure to draw the local authorities, most of which were crooked as the sword the orge was branishing. However, it was hard to ignore the noise of an entire booth being cut in half. Or the fact the ogres were now like a bull in a china store, destroying everything they could reach.
The nearby stall had was in the process of smashing like a giant pinata by the ogre with the plank just happened to be Thadious'. The ogre was too drunk with rage to even care that the elderly man was still behind his stall, unable to move very fast. The ogre was about to bring another blow to the booth, perhaps to crush it and the poor man beneath it.
Now, the ranger could not let that happen. Instinctly, he threw the knife that he been inspecting. It buried itself into the ogre's arm, causing it to cry out in pain and drop the wooden weapon.
"I'll take it," Peregrinus said simply to the terrified shop owner. "This should cover it."
He tossed a few coins on the table before unshealthing his sword. Sliding over a now empty stall with his cloak trailing behind him, the ranger marched up to meet the giant figure. He had to get his new knife back of course.
(OOC: Anne, I know the ogres are your NPCs so if wish for the knife not to hit, I can change it. Just let me know.)
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"Let battle be joined!"
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Post by Kael-Tar on Jan 10, 2012 22:46:11 GMT -5
Lofting from the a brink of the town, lured in by the smell of mead and the sound of song and dance, Kael-Tar excitably speeds from vendor to vendor along the streets. New to city-life, every aspect of the markets demands this orc's attention, and he seems helpless but to give it to each peddler as he roams the streets. Despite taking interest in each trinket and bauble as he cruises by the shops, Kael has no money what so ever, but the vendor don't know that...
"Mmm, that smells delicious sir, is that fried opossum?!" Kael inquires with genuine interest.
"No, you brute, this is the finest cut of pork fillet in the whole city." Cuts the snooty Chef "Now, I'll thank you to remove yourself, lest I need inform the constable!"
Thinking on his feet, Kael remarks, "I should hope you do call the constable, this 'eatery' should be condemned, serving food that smells this rancid. I merely hoped to find that this swine's taste would redeem it from the wretched odor its polluting!"
The chef, now bold red in fury and embarrassment, " Fine, take a generous sample to slate your curiosity. Taste of the divine flavors which only chef Antony can bestow unto a cut of meat. You will then find yourself singing songs of my culinary mastery!"
With vigor, Kael-Tar reaches for a heap of the titillating Ham, "We shall see about that, good chef" Throwing the mass of ham into his mouth, hand included.
Chef Antony is mortified, as his face shifts from a fading red to a greenish hue. Kael pulls his saliva-coated from his very full mouth, and and proceeds chewing the wad of food intensely, pretending to consider it's flavor. As the Chef's stomach starts to plummet, he sets down the now empty platter. Kael is nodding in acceptance and beginning to report his review as his attention is stolen away.
From down the street, the sound of a large death groan, and wooden stall cracking and smashing, as well as the all too familiar chorus of plebeian screams call out to Kael. There is no doubt chaos and entertainment befitting a rouge fighter such as Kael, and as it beckons, so must the fighter go.
"Sorry, Antony, my good man, I'll have to submit my critique at a later date." Said Kael, patting his mouth with the table cloth and making his way toward to scene.
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Post by Princess Anne on Jan 10, 2012 23:21:02 GMT -5
(OOC: HAha, don't worry, I made the ogres so that we can eventually defeat 'em! They are pretty much fodder for us.)
After having a knife tossed accurately into the muscle of his forearm, the injured ogre growled loudly in pain and clutched his arm close to his body, hunching over forwards, with the knife still embedded into his arm. After about 3 minutes, he gathered up the courage to yank the knife out, also slinging out a trail of black blood that spilled onto the ground.
"Tkar, look what this human did to me!!" the brute ogre yelled in the direction of the largest orge of the group, who he soon noticed was lying on the ground in a blood of his own blood. Seeing an arrow pierced through his leader's head was pretty intimidating.
"ARgh!!" the two ogres that remained charged in unison towards Pere like mad men. They didn't care about what skills he possessed, both ogres just wanted him dead.
"Oh boy. Looks like I've caused some trouble. Didn't mean to drag him into it, those ogres probably think that he killed their commander." the cloaked vendor thought to herself, temporarily putting away her crossbow in exchange for a short sword. The cloaked vendor ran to the scene, putting herself in between the path of Pere and the mad ogres, in sword stance and ready to defend him.
"Hey, I'm the one who killed your imbecile of a commander, fight me, not this man!" Ann's pugnacious nature took over. Although she was still cloaked in disguise as a old lady, she was very excited at the thought of a quick brawl and didn't care about the circumstances.
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Post by Peregrinus on Jan 11, 2012 0:27:35 GMT -5
The ranger took a step back at the sudden change in the ogre's attention. Although he may be skilled, Peregrinus knew facing two charging ogres was not smart. His mind flooded with possiblities as he quickly went through all of his options. He was just about to whistle for Sly's aid when the cloaked "old woman" stepped in his way. However, he could immediately tell that he had misjudged the "old woman" for she was not who she had appeared to be. And the stance the figure had taken...he had seen that stance before.
Knife! The name popped into his head instantly! That was definitely her stance. And her voice confirmed it. No longer was it a weak, crackling heckle; instead, it was young, firm, and vicious. However, the ranger did not say anytihing. He merely drew a stance as well.
There was a time for talking and a time for fighting. This was the later.
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"Let battle be joined!"
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Post by Kael-Tar on Jan 11, 2012 12:20:28 GMT -5
As Kael happened upon the source of the markets commotion, he notices a pair of towering, monstrous creatures, both charging much faster than their grace could support. "This could be a fun" he though. Kael's love for fun and excitement overpowered his battle senses, and he saw this situation as an opportunity for some very heavy laughs. With a massive grin on his glowing face, the orc bursts after the stomping ogres with glee.
Charging up next to them, hardly noticed by the behemoths. When the Ogres saw over their shoulders that they had an unwanted running mate, the Ogre closest Kael wiped his heavy hand at the Warrior's head with full force. Kael ducked and came to an immediate stop. This was much easier for he than for the ogre, who's foot was now caught on the orc's battle axe. The tripped ogre soon found himself flying like a cannon ball at Peregrinus. The other ogres charge is slightly diminished with awe, as he watches his brother spiraling through the air.
Kale is now doubled over with laughter at the unanticipated acrobatics of the ogre.
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Post by Fearn on Jan 11, 2012 17:14:43 GMT -5
The potato vendor, meanwhile, appearing to have the reaction time of a drugged sloth, stared for far too long with an eyebrow cocked slightly as the ogres smashed her stall to bits, before they moved on to wreak havoc all throughout the marketplace. She started slightly when the antiques dealer addressed her. That voice was familiar to her, she thought. Again, she stared, blinking like an owl at noon.
“I… er… Yeah, I’m fine… What the hell?!” she returned, confusion mixing with annoyance on her face. Fearn shook her head, as if to cast aside cobwebs, and reached under the smashed counter to try to find her “handbag”, in which she hoped she had remembered to stow a few throwing knives. Her eyes locked on the ogres, she hissed, “Right, so you’re prancing around as an old lady now, Knife? I’m not impressed. Not at all.”
The grouchy vendor vaulted somewhat stiffly over the remains of her stall, equipped with three knives wrapped inside a potato-scrubbing rag. Squinting in the filtered sunlight, she watched as the ogres charged at the ranger. Small world, she thought. First Peregrinus turns up, then Elka, and now Knife. Who next? She pulled a knife from the filthy, wadded up cloth, turning it over in her hand a few times, her eyebrows knit. It had been a while since she’d used a throwing knife. She was entirely out of practice – it wasn’t as if the friendly neighborhood prison warden had allowed her to keep any weapons on her person when she was thrown in jail, after all.
When a newcomer who Fearn could have sworn was an orc charged up and sent one of the ogres flying (Fearn had no idea how, as if F truly did equal MA, and the orc surely had a far lesser M than the ogre, the orc must have been doing some sort of physics-defying witchcraft), Fearn knew that the time to release the knife was then or never. Distracted, the flying orc’s comrade was a sitting duck – or would have been had she been a bit more confident with her weapons. Leaping forward, she hurled the knife at the ogre’s back, hoping that, with a target so big, she wouldn’t miss and accidentally cause Peregrinus to acquire yet another knife.
Fortunately, the knife did indeed embed itself securely in the ogre’s back. Unfortunately, it didn’t kill him. In fact, it just appeared to make him even angrier. Fearn scowled. She wished she still had her longbow. That was yet another thing the friendly neighborhood prison warden had relieved her of when she came to stay at the most secure lodgings in all of Trian. With a somewhat bemused glance at the oddly gleeful orc, she slid another knife out of its mud-caked wrapping; she did not dare throw it, since if she missed or failed to bring down the ogre again, she would be left with only one knife to defend herself. And then she’d have to make a break for it.
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Post by Elka on Jan 11, 2012 17:56:19 GMT -5
Elka ducked out of the way as the woman that she came to realize was the girl she had once called Knife downed an ogre right next to her. “A couple dead ogres before lunchtime, what could be better?” she growled, prancing to the left as one of the remaining ogres aimed a punch at her. “And all this over potatoes? What is it with people around here and food?”
She sidestepped the commotion again as Fearn threw a knife at an ogre, enraging it. Since when did Fearn use throwing knives? she thought blandly, as the ogre blundered around, yelling ferociously. There was an orc now, too, attacking the ogres along with them. Orc usually fought with ogres, not against them, but she supposed that this one might just be trying to get in on the action, cause a little mayhem, whatever else orcs enjoy doing.
Her concern for Fearn grew as the ogre that she’d injured turned to attack her. Small knives were clearly no good against these monsters. But Elka wasn’t wearing any weapons that she could help with – her old sword and bow were at home, locked up in the cellar with all her other travel gear. A thought hit her: there were weapons everywhere at the market. What did it matter if they weren’t hers yet? She seized a relatively short sword from the weapons table and charged at the ogre’s back, sinking the sword in as far as she could, out of fighting shape as she was. The ogre yelled in pain, flailing like an animal, before toppling to the ground, almost bringing Elka with him.
“Right…” Elka said in disgust, pulling the sword from the dead brute, its length covered in dark blood. “Um, I can pay for this, if you’d like,” she told the weapons seller, grinning sheepishly. “It’s a nice sword, y’know?”
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Post by Princess Anne on Jan 11, 2012 22:53:18 GMT -5
Ann's common sense kicked in as she noticed a single ogre, now tumbling violently at full force at her and Peregrinus. Without hesitation, Ann tackled Peregrinus to the ground, pushing them both out of the path of the "ogre bowling ball." They barely escape being crushed by the ogre's weight. Ann watched as the ogre eventually crashed into a now empty vendor display and halted to a stop.
After removing herself from Pere, Ann frustratedly fumbled with the cloak, then threw it to the ground, revealing herself in her usual armor. She pretty much looked exactly the same, just with more battle scars here and there. She couldn't help but smile at Elka and Fearn's decisions to attack and kill one of the ogres.
"Wow, you two have really grown up! You're almost as tall as me now! And look, you even teamed up and killed something! Great job!!" Ann looked very proud of them and waved excitedly.
She turned around and timidly held a hand out to Pere, offering to help him up since she had tackled him earlier. "H-hey. Long time no see... Peregrinus. Y-you have some blood on your armor..." Ann purposely looked away from Pere as she spoke to him, since for some reason she was smiling uncontrollably and didn't want him or anyone else noticing.
Ann noticed Kael Tar, who seemed to be laughing, but she didn't know why. At this point, since he looked monstrous, she did not know to attack or not. However, Ann didn't get a bad feeling from him. "Hey orc, what's so funny!?"
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Post by Peregrinus on Jan 12, 2012 3:00:06 GMT -5
The ranger that just set his feet when he was suddenly hit from his left side. He muffled a groan of pain as the wind was suddenly forced from his chest as he hit the ground along with someone who had knocked him off his feet. As the ogre rolled by, it was obvious that the person had just saved his life from the disastrous fate of being crushed by the steam rolling ogre.
His unknown savior hastily removed themself from on top of him. And with the removal of their cloak, Peregrinus's earlier thought was confirmed. It was indeed Knife, the young lady who he had met several years ago, in a small tavern, and who had tried to kill him. Not only with a posionous dart but also with fire whiskey. The ranger's breath flared at the very remembrance of the tasty toxin.
"We have to stop meeting like this," Peregrinus said as he accepted Knife's outreached hand with his own. She seemed timid, but the ranger was somewhat worried. His memory reminded him how quickly this woman's outward appearance could change.
"Oh, well thank you," he replied to the blood comment as he tried to remove the dark stain that was on his cloak.
"And you've got some..." The ranger carefully removed a smug of blood from Knife's cheek before she shyed away. As the lady had diverted her attention to someone else, Peregrinus took this time to reclaim his recently purchased dagger that was still in the death gripped hand of the tumbling ogre who had broken its neck on the vacant stall.
(Modified to change some words)
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Post by Elka on Jan 12, 2012 15:36:12 GMT -5
“You sound like I’m one of your grandkids, Knife,” Elka joked, passing a handful of gold coins to the rather shaken looking merchant from whom she had taken the sword. “It’s been a while, though. I’ve taken a couple years off from roaming the world, and Fearn’s been in prison, apparently,” she said with a smirk, observing Fearn’s smashed potato stall.
She grinned broadly as Knife awkwardly helped Peregrinus up. The two of them could be cute when they weren’t attempting to kill each other. Unfortunately, they more often seemed to be doing just that, unless there were outside threats to fight off. Of course, it had been a long time since Elka had seem either of them.
“Maybe we should consider getting out of here,” Elka said, eying the unexplainably amused orc with distaste. “We’ve caused enough trouble already, and I imagine the city guard will be head over soon, if they aren’t already. “
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"Let battle be joined!"
Posts: 7
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Post by Kael-Tar on Jan 12, 2012 17:42:16 GMT -5
Kael slowly pulled himself out of a state of laughter and got off of the floor. With a few more chuckles he walked over to pick up the axe that he tripped the Ogre with, now skid across the market's stone floor. As he reeled up with his axe and began to secure it to his belt, Kael took notice of his surroundings. Wiping the petrified grin from his face and revealing himself to be surrounded by smashed booths and wary denizens.
Aside from the fires and kegs spilling of ale, the area had fallen to relative silence. The sun had already fallen for the day and the light of torches was now pushing shadows in all directions.
"Well, it looks like we showed them, huh?!" Kael said timidly throwing up a fist in victory, and starting to walk toward the fighters and away from the center of interest. "Alrighty, we'll.... no need to thank us folks... ha ha.."
All around were stares of fear, disgust and above all the people around seem to be stirring with plans to drive the orc. The warriors, who defeated the Ogres, looked more confused than anything, but Kael knew better than to push his luck in trying to fit in with them. Looks of distrust and bewilderment continued until they heard the cries and whistles of the Guardsmen. A sound that instinctively stirred Kael to running fast and away. And even before the guards arrived, the angry vengeful vendors took up chase.
"Catch you later, fighters, hopefully before I get caught!" Kael said yelling over his shoulder as he leaped unto the back of a jet black steed. He raced off into the forest, chasten by pitchforks and torches, as most days draw to an end for Kael-Tar.
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