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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 20:50:19 GMT -8
"You will be fine, Lance. All humans have the capacity to do anything they wish."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 19, 2017 20:54:24 GMT -8
"I suppose so." Lance says, nodding and thinking thoughtfully about this idea.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 20:55:35 GMT -8
Tod raised his chin slightly, happy about what he'd achieve if he tried.
"I know so."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 19, 2017 21:01:11 GMT -8
"Who are your friends? More priests?" Lance asks.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 21:04:01 GMT -8
Tod laughed audibly, "I'm afraid not, it's a doctor and a man in red."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 19, 2017 21:11:20 GMT -8
"Very descriptive for friends of yours." Lance says with a laugh.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 21:12:53 GMT -8
"Oh, you got me." Tod internally laughed, a rumble from deep in his chest
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 21:38:06 GMT -8
"Uuuugh... the man in charge should hire people to clean up every now and then", Nicholas grumbled as he walked through the streets. Still, it was only some grumpy remarks; speaking with Grace had convinced him to start anew. Try to make things work, his way. Maybe he'd swoop in the Guild Hall later, try and help the people there with his know-how; if he earned a crown or two along the way, maybe go and play some card games at the Tavern while looking for companions to mount up an expedition. Who knew what the future held for him, after all?
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 19, 2017 21:41:59 GMT -8
"Did you meet them here?" Lance asked curiously.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 21:46:56 GMT -8
Tod nodded, "Yes, I did. The doctor saved my life, the red one is just a normal friend"
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 19, 2017 21:54:03 GMT -8
"I wonder...if I should go on an expidition..." Lance pondered aloud.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 19, 2017 22:22:37 GMT -8
Eventually finding his way through the streets of the Hamlet, Nicholas let out a sigh of satisfaction as he reached the Blacksmith's forge. The old man was beating with his hammer onto a hot piece of steel, forging a sword; he looked up to the imposing knight, his pipe still in his mouth. "What's it for?" he asked gruffly as he looked back down at his work, the hammer going up and down in a rythmic faction. Clang, clang, clang.
"I'm looking to trade", explained the knight as he placed his halberd against the wall, taking his helmet off with effort. "This whole suit of heavy armor, plus my halberd, in exchange for some gear you'd have here." Now looking up from the piece of steel with interest, the old timer let out a huff, putting the blade into the water, then turning toward the knight as he took his pipe away from his lips, letting out the smoke he had been accumulating.
"Depends on what you're asking," he finally said. "And I want to see that up close."
And so for the next minutes, Nicholas, helped by the blacksmith, rid himself of his armor and watched on as the old man inspected it from up close, grumbling to himself as he inspected every stain, every small crack and wear; in the end, they came to an agreement. The armor would certainly not have the same value as a new one, but he was up for trading. An hour later, Nicholas left the forge, clad in a lighter half-plate armor, a rapier at his belt and a Nockgun slung across his back.
"You got the better of me this time!" the blacksmith called out after him.
"Doubt that", replied the man with a shrug as he walked aimlessly in the streets of the Hamlet, putting his old company hat onto his face. "Not bad", he said as he placed his hands at his side and admired the sight of the sky. "Not bad at all."
And with that, he put some tobacco in his own pipe and brought it to his lips. It belonged to his grandfather, or so the women of the orphanage had told him; he suspected they only said this to comfort him and give him something to hold onto. Still, he had kept it around, despite his inability to smoke during the Crusade.
"Feels like crap", he said after some time, although he kept it there. "But then again, so did ale a while back."
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Post by Kidney on Jul 19, 2017 23:10:00 GMT -8
Tod stood, unmoving, not talking. His input wasn't needed on Lance's decision. But a wide-eyed look hit Tod's face.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 20, 2017 1:32:12 GMT -8
It was dark, the canopy of the Old Road choking the light from the air, but it did not matter.
The shine of the small piece of steel in his hand, the gleam of a sharpened and polished weapon. A tool, like a hammer, or an anvil. A tool for a job, in this case, the job was theft and murder.
It wasn't for that purpose anymore. It was for the defense of a person,the defense of the life of it once took.
But how strange it was, a small piece of steel, so many options for good and for evil.
Clance Darcy lived in the thin line of gray in the world, and now found himself being transported to the place renowned for being the epitome of evil. He put away the shiv, slipping it into a covert sheath in the end of his sleeve.
The wooden contraption hit a stone, and my god. It felt like the thing was going to come apart at the seams.
Flimsy thing.
He looked down, the piece of wood pulled tight on his ankle, the wooden collection of structures not allowing any movement in his left ankle. He moved his left leg, a growl escaped him, like a cog clicking with another, his left leg erupting into just barely painful tingle.
Saliva escaped through the open spaces of his teeth, and quickly he sucked it back into his throat. It was nearly silent afterwards, and then the ringing started.\
It was a dull, loud, piercing sound that invaded thought and idea. He moved his hands to his ears, squeezing his hands to his skull tightly. \
Now, the caravan stopped.
Clance lurched forward, his left knee slamming into the floorboards.
Another growl left him.
The door of the caravan swung open, and Clance Darcy threw himself out.
He landed on hands and knees, and rose up, looking around.
It was a dark place, even though the sun sat just above the mountains, life seemed dim here.
A quick stare at the front of the Tavern yielded conformation of it's services.
The smell of cheap ale resonated from it's ajar door, and inspections of the velvet in the windows of the upper floor yielded the telltale signs of buyable cunt and beds.
Clance smirked.
It was his favorite kind of dingy shithole.
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Post by Shinzon on Jul 20, 2017 1:48:04 GMT -8
Nicholas was simply walking around the streets aimlessly, huffing from his pipe and resting his other hand onto the handle of his new rapier. It was by no means a freshly-crafted weapon; signs of wear told a story of use and combat. But the man knew that it was better to have a battle-tested sword than a brand new one; for he knew that this one was reliable, if not battered by the treatment of time and war. As he stopped near the Tavern to fill his pipe once more, he noticed a new arrival from the Stage Coach. Remembering how both he and Maria had arrived here, cramped in their respective armors in the small vehicle, he shook his head.
Starting to walk toward the "fresh meat", as a bounty hunter had once sarcastically called the new recruits, he adjusted his hat, the feathers gently moving along with the wind. "Greetings", he let out soberly as he looked Clance up and down, his gaze lingering at his splinted ankle. "I take it you're the newest mercenary, aye?"
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