|
|
Post by Unter on Apr 28, 2018 9:49:31 GMT -8
Iver examined Libourg using the stuff, and sat next to him. He would need every scrap of knowledge. Apparently, you needed to say something before puffing on the pipe. He took hold of the thing. It was a rough shape, designed for practibility over fashion. He approached the pipe to his mouth, and said, amused by the seriousness of Libourg's prayer :
"Lo, may my plate be furnished, my mug full and the wind behind my back ! And long may the sun shine ! Ha ha ha !"
He truly laughed, the first time since he arrived in the Hamlet, and huffed on the pipe. A warmth, soon followed by coughs worse than Libourg's exploded in Iver. By his flamboyant beard, this felt good. He relaxed almost immediatly, the hardships of the Warrens away but not forgotten. His emotions were made far potent by the stuff, and he truly felt sad for Libourg.
"Arh, my friend. Women are always angry on something ! My mother taught me that before sending me to the circus. Hell of a day ! But as you smoke on that sweet pipe, and as you look on that sunless sky followed by the distant cry of rolling thunder, don't you think that a girl is sometimes more trouble than she's worth ? Your feelings were true, jumping into the uncertain depths of the Warrens to try and save her, and yet she rejects you still. She says "oh no, I'm not worthy enough for pious sire Libourg ! I must refuse his magnanimous offer to make me his woman", and I say plenty of fish in the see !" he laughed softly at his own wisdom, discarding it as the rambling of a mad ginger midget.
"And I should know, for I sailed the northern ocean to come here. The seemingly infinite water makes all girls a shadow of a thought when you compare them ! Ha!"
He deposed the pipe on the apparatus, and continued to look at the sky.
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 28, 2018 10:19:37 GMT -8
Tilly cringed; it was cheaper than she anticipated, but it still felt like a blow to their coffers.
"See, but that's a day's rent..." She reasoned, quietly, tearing her gaze away from the blacksmith's and towards her boots.
It had to be done.
"And it all adds up. I doubt we'll have a "dragon's hoard" by the time we're done getting everything."
---
Florence hummed thoughtfully and pointed up to the sky, readying a gesture like one would load a pistol.
"There are many things stranger than a crow." She reached and pointed to the ancestor statue,
"The man this statue depicts, for example, is stranger."
|
|
|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Apr 28, 2018 11:20:16 GMT -8
Milo had not been doing much in this squalid Hamlet since his arrival. The boy's strength proved useful - he earned a meal and a warm corner by moving heavy loads hither and thither from the Tavern. For him, the seemingly mundane and poor lifestyle was an all-time high in life. He was not happy, but he was content.
On this day, a keg of ale was due to be delivered from the Tavern to the Guild Hall - Watcher's orders. He turned around the corner, whistling. The heavy keg was carried steadily on his shoulder. And then he saw...
"Oh no.
The garb. The mask. The accursed unblinking eyes. It was all too real.
Missing a single beat he turned to the nearest corner of the building, setting the keg for cover, attempting to hide and observe. He did know the doctors existed in the Hamlet, yes. Still, meeting one was a dreadful proposition.
And so he waited and prayed silently. "Go away." So affixed he was on Doctor Florence, he did not even notice the second person standing right beside her. He just wanted her to go away.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kidney on Apr 28, 2018 12:39:20 GMT -8
Tod slowly looked up at the statue, he didn’t give it much intrinsic merit, althogh it seemed strangely imposing to be standing at the base of it. He cocked his head to the side, puppy-like, and looked back at Florence.
“I imagine so. To erect a statue of yourself in the square of your town is very egotistic.”
He spoke with a bit of venom on his tongue, although the idea of having a statue in his honor brought back a whisper from the back of his mind. The sound of an adoring crowd. Tod shook his head lightly, and rubbed his eyelids. “Still! My preposition stands.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Apr 28, 2018 17:14:22 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"Of course not Tilly, we're not dragons." He scoffed incredulously with a playful smirk as he loosely slipped his hand free and gave her a soft smack on the shoulder,
"We'll have a proper Lord and Lady's hoard... Enough to lock up in a proper iron room." He assured her as he ran his fingers under the collar of her jacket, delighting in the lack of mud and grime there as he tugged it tightly about her chest with a swell smile.
The squawking across the yard, with a familiar Tod'ly fellow and his own Crowgazer held his attention and soured his mood for a moment; his curiosity piqued and he seemed ripe to pounce off towards them like a cat, before he took in a breath and sighed. His eyes closing as he remembered his proper duties to tend to.
His smile returned as he looked back to Tilly and shrugged.
"We might well not have the coin of a Dragon's Hoard but... well, we'll have something better; wares and finery, silks and treasures alike. It's honestly better than coin; items from vases and forks and spoons, to chairs, beds, silk sheets and the like... They all act as insurance to our goldstuffs. Coin can only go so far, but everyone loves a good silken robe or a shiny plate."
He explained with two quick taps to his brow, as though he'd unlocked some magical nugget of wisdom. He made to free his hand from hers so he might place it confidently on his own hip, jerking his head back to the smithy.
"Tell me; when's the last you saw a proper utensil of iron in the bloody paws of the mercenaries here..?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 28, 2018 23:18:48 GMT -8
Tilly stared hard ahead, contemplatively, with her mouth pressed into a tight line.
Her stomach was in dreadful flips and her mouth felt dry. The blacksmith loomed ahead.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd paid more than enough to buy a meal for the day. And now she was set to burn through a day's rent-- a day of security assured if the worst were to happen, and no amount of fineries and silks and vases could help them.
"But what if we run out...? What'll we do?" With her hands freed, they came to rest in her coat pockets as though they were fleeing.
She troubled herself on the thought for a moment more before making to walk forward with a sigh,
"We ought to get on with it."
---
Florence cocked her head, puzzled entirely. And then she made to stand.
The movement caused the bird to squirm in the bag and let out another frustrated caw.
"...You propose to exorcise a statue? This is strange, but I shall not stop you."
|
|
|
|
Post by Kidney on Apr 28, 2018 23:24:32 GMT -8
Tod shook his head, raising his hands up preemptively to wave away her misunderstanding. "Nononono, I meant that if you ever were conducting "science" that had a spiritual element, possibly requiring an exorcism, I am always here to be a counselor and a possible failsafe, should anything require an exorcism. I wish to be of use, is all."
He laughed at the bird, pointing at the bag, "Although, if you require my help in the science revolving around that crow, never hesitate to ask!"
|
|
|
|
Post by relentless on Apr 29, 2018 3:02:51 GMT -8
Libourg's eyes held a partial blankness to them as he stared straight ahead, drowsiness overcoming him as the overwhelming scent of a floral agent made its home in his nostrils. To Libourg, Ivers ranting would inevitably become just noise, a blur of sound frequencies that whispered at his ears as Libourgs head slowly rotated to look up at the sky. Though, he could catch the gist of what he was saying, a dumb crooked smile grew on his face followed by a semi drunk giggle.
"... Regardless of their intent, we must love them anyway despite the hardships. Like the farmer, he must protect their crops, else his family starves and cattle wither."
Libourg rambled on in his slowly increasing state of new found excitement found in the opium, before he remained silent for a few seconds, which felt like hours, before a humoured wisp of air was dragged out of his open mouth, ocean blue eyes stared dimly at the sky above like a corpse in the morgue.
"The seas you say? The Mountains hold much greater danger and wonder to them, a true adventure! Perhaps I'd find treasure, glittering trinkets and baubles hoarded by beasts of the dark. I'm sure Sicherlein *chuckles*, with all her bravado and recklessness would meet death on the bottomless slopes before she even caught a glimpse at the summit."
Libourg cackled with increasing joy caused by the high, before he took the pipe in his hand again after Iver had set it down. Though before he put the mouthpiece in his lips to blow on it again, he glanced at Iver, smiled and nudged him with his elbow.
"People like us? Men, like us? We're the ones that stand at the frontlines of battle, swords clamoring against shields and flags hoisted high as we embrace the charge! We revel in the glory, not for pride, or for acceptance, but to protect the ones that lack the gall to take the plunge. Keep that in mind, Iver! For weee arreeee, the..."
Libourg paused, his brow scrunching before he let out a chuckle and nudged him again, jutting a meaty finger at his face in opium-drunken fashion.
"The Battle Brothers! Hahahah..."
Libourg cackled heartily, before putting the mouthpiece in his mouth and inhaling more of the smoke, before blowing out again. A series of chuckles mixed with coughs would sprout anew, a happy smile was put on his face before he sat back with a relaxed groan.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Apr 29, 2018 9:38:49 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
He cocked his head to one side, a cat eyeing its canary, as his grin widened and he rubbed Tilly's coated back affectionately.
"Are you sure..?" He drew out kiddishly, teasingly; the moment of affection almost a ruse to cover up his goading, doubly making to lead her on towards the entrance of the blacksmith.
"... Truly it'd be terrible if we ran out. Why, we'd be on the streets begging for scraps. And our child... Ohhh, my dear, our child!" He mourned as he leant back and mocked utter desparity as he came back with a cackle, shrugging quickly,
"T'were some fifteen odd thousand coins shared between us--" He whispered seriously, a bit of jest still there though an earnestness too,
"-- I've already measured out the costs for my venture to span a thousand coins, though that was considering only myself; with a good five to ten thousand? We'll be set for more than a winter : Home over our head and food in our bellies." He assured her, a stretch of the truth to be sure, but he was still confident in his plans...
\\
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 29, 2018 10:27:48 GMT -8
The knowledge that he was simply jesting didn't lighten Tilly's mood all that much-- in fact, it served to only make her more morose.
As they approached what seemed to be another nail in their financial coffin, she felt her eyes well up and bowed her head, as though suddenly developing a keen interest in her boots.
"That's if nothing goes wrong." She pointed out with a little sigh, "Assuming the Hamlet doesn't get raided again, or neither of us gets hurt or breaks a bone, o-or... something of that sort."
---
The silence was punctuated only by the incessant crowing of the bird.
Florence spoke, after much deliberation, "What would lead you to believe that this has a spiritual element?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Apr 29, 2018 10:40:05 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
His gait slowed, then stopped just short of the smithy, looking over to the capped rogue with a matched slouch and gaze; eyeing her boots as he took steps closer and bumped his brow against the top of her hat.
"That's un-bloody-likely, Tilly. We've friends to look out for us in either case, who'll take care of us 'cause they're good folk; caring less about money than you do at anyrate." He smirked as he patted her shoulder and made to try and look under the brim of her large hat.
"No sense in fretting over it now; one step at a time, with me, yeah?" He offered, making to latch onto her hand with his and step her forward to the tune of his step.
\\
|
|
|
|
Post by Kidney on Apr 29, 2018 10:42:51 GMT -8
Tod took a deep breath and began speaking, "Now, this is going to seem manic, I promise it is not."
Tod straightened his back, and with a single hand for annunciation, he began to pour his theory into the mind of Florence. "Well, first things first. You are friends with Blood, and that means that everything having to do with him, I associate with the amulet he carries. I try not to, but my mind begins to make strange theories. Either way, I have a biblical hunch, as many holy texts think of crows and ravens as symbols of death. I am a specialist in the field of death, so the fact that you tackled a bird and put it in a sack rings some bells for me. Also, I really, really want it to. I feel very useless in this place, and I want to have to be of use or be needed in some way."
He closed his mouth before he was able to say more, smiling coyly, a bit embarrassed. "I may have just overshared."
|
|
|
|
Post by Vanitypirate on Apr 29, 2018 12:44:25 GMT -8
If worse came to worst, Tilly supposed that they'd have no choice but to turn to others-- but she had rather staunchly avoided the charity of others, giving as much as she took if only for pride's sake.
Even then, she was unsure of how much she could fairly take from her compatriots, who, by-and-large, were in straits more dire than she.
She sniffed and ran her wrist over the corner of her eye, seeing as her hands were being coaxed out of her pockets at anyrate. It doubled in purpose to subtly shield her face from the peering Lekalis.
"Yeah... right then." She blinked hard and made to tug down her hat a touch, falling into step beside Lekalis. "Onwards."
---
Florence squinted and hugged the bag close to her.
"Many think as you do; it is for that reason that many have come to think of myself and other doctors as a symbol of death. It is counterproductive. Holy symbols have no place in proper research."
She took a step back, and added for good measure,
"This bird is needed as a test subject. I have selected the species due to its superior intellect to other birds. This does not concern Lekalis. Do not speak to me again in public on the subject of Lekalis or his amulet. I shall seek you out if I have needed of you. Goodbye."
With a stiff wave, the Crowgazer gathered her belongings and turned to leave for the sanitarium.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kidney on Apr 29, 2018 13:17:49 GMT -8
Lekalis.
Tod nodded, listening, but her departure surprised him. He could have stared at her face and listened to what she said, but for now, he retained only Blood's name. And to never speak of him or his amulet in public. He shook his head, staring at her while she left. "Wha-"
He slammed his mouth shut with an audible clack. He shook his head aggressively, turning to stare at Florence. But he couldn't force himself to speak, he simply shrugged in defeat, sighing to himself. He let out a groan, rubbing his eyelids, and staring into space. But then, he saw a particular something lurking behind a keg. He took a step forward, walking closer and closer, nearing a touch on it, "Who goes there?"
|
|
|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Apr 29, 2018 13:31:05 GMT -8
With relief the boy saw the bird-masked doctor leave. His body rotated as Florence made her way away from him, keeping an eye on her throughout.
It is in this position that Tod caught him in, startling the boy severely.
"AH! ALE FOR THE WARDEN!" He shouted aloud, limbs flailing at first only to grip the barrel and lift it - curiously, the act itself was seemingly effortless. Indeed, the keg seemed to be heavier than the boy, and yet the inertia did not cause him to flinch at all.
Staring dumbfounded at Tod with the keg firmly on his shoulder, his lower lip moved up and down and let out incoherent babble as he was grasping for more words. "W-wasn't slacking I swear! Sorry!" He blurts out a small bluff.
Instinctively his eyes darted between Florence and Tod. Pleasedon'tlookpleasedon'tlookpleasedon'tlook
|
|
