The Hamlet Streets

[Kidney]

Tod walked down the steps, tired. His steps labored and his eyes cast low, he held his hand on his crucifix for emotional support. He was as sluggish as a dead man walking, despite how horrid the images that saying brought up. He remembered the dead rising to take the minds of the living, and for that, Tod retched. 
A smallish wave of vomit hit the back of his teeth, remembering the voices from the abyss and the self mutilation. And now, with a grimace he swallowed it back. Forgiveness.
Tod looked up, shaking his head as Sorrow brushed the inside of his skull. Her voice was quiet, but made up of all the sadness and horror Tod had experienced in his short life. He puffed his cheeks with air, letting it out slowly as he stuck to edge of the stairs, about halfway down.

[lightningfast]

Mordecai enthusiastically shakes the hunter's hand. "My name is Mordecai von Richter. We're hoping to leave on this journey sooner rather than later, so we can get our provisions and confirm with the heir," he adds, turning back to Fen and Katja, "Any objections? I realize we haven't gotten settled in yet, but to tell the truth, I'm not sure where I'd be able to sleep without the reward for one of these bounty missions."

After names have been exchanged, Mordecai passes Ponytail the sheet describing what their job will be during their trip to the Weald. He is generally pleased with the state of their posse, though Katja was perhaps more... aggressive than he was comfortable with. No matter: so long as her aggression could be directed towards a suitable enemy, they would be fine.

[Vanitypirate]

"Ah, it's my pleasure, Mister-von-Richter." Ponytail smiled again, taking both hands to hold the paper steady with some apprehension, at an arm's length, as if being handed a pot of boiling water. He let the other women go largely ignored, save for a raised palm and a quiet "No, I do not expect so, madame." as he read.

He ran a finger down the length of the passage, brows furrowed in concentration to divine the few words in his lexicon: numbers, in both reward . The drawn map seemed simple enough, although... perhaps too simple. He traced his finger down the lines, and then looked up and between Mordecai and the two women he had in tow. The loud one was hot-headed, tribal, and the other was her veritable opposite. Surely, they had no business on any intense expeditions.

"Hm... you are foraging, yes? This is a... far way to walk, you know?" He presumed, eyeing them before looking to Mordecai.

Perhaps it was not such a wise decision to escape with such strangers.

"I would be happy to attend, but I have spent all day traveling, you see." The hunter nodded his hatted head,

He broke a toothy smile and lightly patted his hands together, "Perhaps, when you are not in such a hurry, we may sit together and engage in conversation, Mister Von-Richter, and friends. I would very much like to come to know these residents such as yourself while I rest."

He let his hands slacken and weave together as he advised, "I wish you three luck on your mission! I do believe... it shall become dark soon, yes. If you avoid the thickly-wooded areas, you may be able to use the moonlight."

[Outisakanobody]

Bach exited the Abbey, everyone giving the towering woman a wide berth as she went. It was hard to tell if the sermon had effected her much. She seemed intent on eyeing the floor, her beret somewhat covering her eyes. Perhaps this is what caused her large, leatherclad shoulder to bump a hither to unseen hellion with a halbard. She stopped and glared at whatever had impeded her movement, not admitting her own fault at the moment as she took stock of this other woman.

[rumsztyk]

Milo dared not to look up, taking a small step back. Instinctively, he prepared to run away - adrenaline was already pumping.

"They hurt me. Please don't make me say." He pleaded in a shaky voice. "This town... supposed to be a safe place for me. Other people said."

[stealthclaw]

At the sudden impact of another shoulder hitting hers, immediately spinning around and baring her halberd angrily.

"Oi, watch't you!" Katja snarled, unimpressed at the other tall woman's sudden appearance. The furs she wore under her armor and laced up around her neck and shoulders almost seemed to bristle up at the contact. It might look funny if it weren't for the fact this woman could probably deal harsh damage, if pushed enough.

Fen noticed that the woman's rough accent seemed to grow deeper when the woman was angry. Interesting. Regardless, a little unnerved by the sudden yelling from their new companion, she took another step back. The younger woman was definitely becoming less and less excited to have the barbaric woman coming along to help them. If someone could sate her for long enough, Fen wondered if it would be like having a beast on a leash.

[Kidney]

Hugo continued, albeit a little sadder, and lower than before. He strung a chord low, "But the Spaniard's blade had a song of its own,
and a bite sharp and cold as a leech..." He snapped at "bite", and drew out "own" for the sake of carving out the character of the Spaniard, you were supposed to be moved by this figure. Hugo realized now that perhaps he had not captivated, but instead was playing upon deaf ears.  His bells rang, and now he turned, pointed at the door of the tavern. "As he lay on the ground with the darkness around, an-"
The sound was cut off by the closing of the door.

[lightningfast]

"Understandable, sir, have a nice day," Mordecai says as the hunter departs. And now we're stuck looking for a fourth person once again...

The doctor glances over at the bard whose song is cut off by the slamming of a tavern door. He briefly considers going back inside, pondering if he was overeager. He needed to temper his haste; this obsession with never staying in one place... it was a relic of his past, when his very profession made him a target of ignorant peasants.

He was snapped out of his trance when another particularly tall woman bumped into his barbaric Hellion comrade. He positions himself between Fen and the pair of imposing women, skeptical that it would come to blows, though not willing to take the chance.

[Outisakanobody]

Bach sneered down at the woman as she brandished her weapon. "Don't snarle at me. And best put that out of my face before you get hurt." she replies, icy blue eyes as fierce and chilling as her voice. She kept perfectly still, the ratty black cloak keeping her form hidden down to her ankles.

[stealthclaw]

Being face to face with someone tall as her, or even taller, had Katja's blood boiling. The reasoning in the back of her mind told her to back off, that nothing good would come from a fight. Katja straightened up to her full height, teeth still bared like an animal would.

"Y'know what? Lunch sounds delightful." She turned on her heels, stalking away from the woman before the rage in her heart could make her lash out.

Fen shot a still nervous look to Mordecai, then to Ponytail.

[lightningfast]

"Yes, food sounds lovely, wait for me, Fen!" The doctor follows along behind Fen, trying to push what Katja might do out of his mind. Once out of Katja's earshot and following closely behind Fen, he whispers: "Forgive my hastiness to leave; I'm unused to staying in one place for long. This gentleman seems friendly enough, though; at least friendlier than Katja..."

[Outisakanobody]

Bach snorted as the woman turned to leave. "Less a lion and more a kitten." she muttered, turning away and beginning to contemplate what to do with herself now.

[Unter]

"They hurt you ?" Francois could clearly sees that Milo was going to run away.
"Alright, I understand. I won't ask anything else, I promise. I will admit, I think you are a sign, given to me by God. I will obey his will, so I propose to you one thing: I will help you with the way of the sword, to protect you and resists those who would like to hurt you." He tried to smoothen his face, but he wasn't experienced in doing that.
"If you want to know how to properly handle a sword, come with me. Else, we should part way." He started going down the cliff, heading to the Hamlet.

[hopper]

The wooden wheels of the wagon clattered down the dirt road, whisking Winifred pasts tall stately trees whose leaves drooped down over the road, keeping the road relatively cool and dark even in the height of the day. As it stood, it was not the height of the day and the sun slunk steadily towards the horizon, casting blood red across the sky which faded into fiery orange and at last purple. Winifred stared up and studied the colours, her dagger dancing between her fingers as she thought things over. She was uncertain as to what the future would hold, and it was a position she found giddying, like falling through the air the moment before the trapeze artists caught her. Her foot had taken to bouncing impatiently as she looked out at the rolling hills and deep woods she'd soon come to wander across. her heart pounded as she pondered all the unexplored depths she'd uncover for Jack, always for Jack. He'd be so pleased with her, the thought made her smile. But she couldn't do that if the damn wagon took an age to get to the town. She leaned outside of the window, pounding a small fist on the side of the coach, hollering over the wind.
"Oy you ruddy wanker, how long's it gonna take?"
She squinted at the elderly driver as he turned to her, his only reply was a short giggle and a shrug before he turned and gave the bedraggled horses a few lashes. Wynne was by no means satisfied with that answer but figured she'd get little better out of the man and so returned to her seat, slumping down and crossing her arms with a 'humph!'The rest of the ride passed in relative silence, save for Winifred's quiet brooding. At last, after what seemed to be a whole year, the coach slowed to a stop. Winifred leaped from her seat without so much as a 'thank you' to the coachman, who stared at her as she dashed away from the retched wheeled prison. She paused her mad flight from the coach when she reached a tall statue which glowered out at the landscape with a dignified air, Winifred disliked it immediately. Working up a good loogey, she hocked it at the base of the thing, giving it a smug smile as she sauntered away from it. A few of the villagers gave her strange or dark looks but Wynne had a certain way of ignoring things like that. Staring up and around, she gazed at the run-down buildings, try to decipher which one could be some place of rest or drink, or better yet, cards.

[rumsztyk]

Milo's face sunk in realization - he was one of them. A faithful. For whatever reason he considered him a 'sign', Milo dared not to pry into this case.

However, the promise of tutoring was... enticing. Milo was certain swordsmanship would be useful for him. And thus, he agreed. "I - I'll come with you, sir. I'd like to know how do defend myself." And, for the first time, he graced Francois with a smile. An ugly one - crooked teeth, some missing. But at least it was genuine. Milo raised his oversized shirt, revealing two crude shanks tied to his belt.