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Post by Oz on Apr 21, 2008 2:01:09 GMT 9.5
[Sven, waking to the morning having rested at an Inn inside Lyte.]
Shrugging off the aches of wounds long healed, and brushing a torturous stray lock of hair from his eyes, Sven wasted no time in gathering his things together. After enjoying a simple laymans breakfast, in the form of a loaf of bread and a Spring Apple and washing up a little, Sven strapped on his armour, slung on his cloak and clasps, collected his weapons, and headed into the streets. It was a pleasing scene. Workmen exchanged hands as they scurried to their stores and workshops. Women exchanged local banter while ferrying laundry in and out of houses. And children found joy in absolutely everything as they ran around the streets. Sadly, Sven was well aware of things that go bump in the night. So he slipped down a side street, and into one of the larger, shadier, taverns. If it were his first visit he may have garnered glances from the seemingly permanent patrons, who were chuckling to the foolishness of some old tale or another, trying to cheat their way through a dice game, or just drown away a mountain of depression in ceaseless drinking. But someone in here would know something. They'll have heard something, spotted a shadow from the corner of their eye, or noticed a neighbours pet to have an awful lot of fresh meat. And upon this Sven would profit, as where one man profits another finds insult. Ultimately, Sven finds pay. Its all that mattered.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Jul 6, 2008 10:55:34 GMT 9.5
((Joining with Wildfire. Haven't been on in a while, so I might be a little rusty.))
As it happened, there was someone who knew something in the bar that morning. He wasn't drinking obsessively, or cheating, just sitting back and listening to rumours. After all, every rumour had a tiny grain of truth to it.
He hadn't started his day with more than a silver coin to his name, but now Wildfire had a decent stack of coins at his side (in a bag, of course) but still, there was something he was looking for. What it was, he didn't exactly know-but when he found it, he'd know.
It was about now that Sven walked in. Wildfire would have quirked an eyebrow at his appearance, if not for the fact that he probably looked even stranger. Instead, he gave Sven a nondescript looking over. It appeared that they were evenly matched at this point in time, so if they came to blows, which Wildfire doubted, then he'd walk away with his body intact.
Never the less, he kept about half an eye on Sven as he listened in on yet another madcap rumor. Something about rat-men in the sewers...
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Post by Oz on Jul 17, 2008 20:40:52 GMT 9.5
[If others join, we'll use the standard turn taking rota]
A few pleased welcoming nods met Sven as he strode to his usual roost, a highly perched table and stool near the end of the bar, and close to the back door. Settling for no drink himself, he proceeded to peek and listen around the bar for tidbits, hints, and the big prize that was a contract.
And at anyone who was looking his way. His golden cloak tended to draw a fair amount of attention when his face doesn't. Then again his battle armour made from assorted hides and skins underneath said cloak would probably draw more.
Nevertheless, Sven spotted one young man in particular, roughly his size, albeit a lot scrawnier, glancing at his outfit.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Jul 18, 2008 22:43:41 GMT 9.5
Wildfire noticed Sven noticing him. Of course, that cloak of Sven's didn't make him that inconspicuous. This was usually the point when Wildfire would just walk out of the room, but something niggled at his mind. Was he meant to find this guy? Bah, destiny was for chumps. He simply gave a friendly nod and looked out the window.
At that moment, someone was slammed up against the wall! Wildfire could obviously see what was going on-a young man was being mugged! In a joint like this, such activities were probably commonplace, but he figured he should help.
"'Ey, hold onto my bow for me. I'm not going to need it-oh, and please don't run off with it," he said as he passed his bow to Sven. In a moment, he was outside and next to the muggers. With a calmness and grace honed from years in stuffy and boring 'parties,' he tapped the mugger on the shoulder.
"'Ey, wadda ya want?" the brute asked. Wildfire smirked at that question.
"Oh, nothing much, I'd just like you to stop mugging that poor fellow,"
The mugger took one look at him and laughed. "An' who's gonna stop me? You?"
"Yep."
"I'd like to see you try!" the mugger shouted as he sent a punch towards Wildfire. Without even having to think, the green-haired youth ducked and sent a sweeping kick that knocked the mugger off balance. With a powerful uppercut, the assailant was soon flat on his back.
"Wow, he really stank at fighting," Wildfire said. Unfortunately, that was when the mugger's friends appeared. Seeing their leader slumped over, they decided to rush at the assailant.
"Oh boy," Wildfire said as he prepared to dodge the attack, but these two were slightly better than he expected. He was thrown against a wall. He was dazed, but still managed to hold them off decently enough.
"Sure could go for some reinforcements," he said to himself as he managed to block yet another punch that was thrown at him from somewhere.
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Post by Oz on Aug 16, 2008 6:42:16 GMT 9.5
Having a bow ungracefully thrown at him, Sven had opted to find out why the young man with strange hair had spoken so quickly and left as a horse would a stable, from the Inn. His inquisition led him outside, where said strange haired youth was scrapping with a pair of meaty types.
Sven saw fit to return the boys bow much in the same way he retrieved it. Turning it lengthways as a hunter would a spear, Sven threw the ornate wooden weapon towards the thug currently trying to crush the boys face. Hitting the brute with a clonk, Sven rushed in to push the other aside and stood in front of the youth staring and growling at the two thugs, the one remaining conscious taking glances up and down his kingly attire. Staring back, Sven also dismissed what he believed to be a shriek of realisation from the Youth who had likely recovered his beloved bow.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Aug 17, 2008 9:30:52 GMT 9.5
Without warning, Wildfire wound up on the ground. He was no stranger to being pushed aside, but when he was holding his own against two assailants, he wasn't expecting a third attacker to just shove him out of the way.
However, when he looked up, there was only one attacker and that person he saw in the tavern. He rubbed his head, grabbed his bow and stood up.
"Y'know, y'could warn someone when you're about to do that," he said as he hefted himself up and looked at the other attacker, who was notably nervous now, what with being outnumbered and all...
((you decide what to do with him, imma drawin' a blank))
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Post by Oz on Nov 15, 2008 3:24:28 GMT 9.5
Not turning his head from glaring, Sven just growled back to the boy. "You should learn to see things like that coming. Same goes for wandering morons."
The moron in question didn't take too kindly to being named as such, but soon saw reason, and tiny birds, with a fist squarely in the jaw. Sven scoffed and turned around, heading back to the tavern. For all he knew he could've missed a contract, and that would be quite upsetting.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Nov 15, 2008 10:27:16 GMT 9.5
"Well, thanks anyway," Wildfire said as he tied up the remaining thug and 'borrowed' the money that he could find on him. As he walked back into the tavern, something bugged him. Who was that guy? Furthermore, why was he so bugged about getting invovled? As he sat in his previous location (which was thankfully still unoccupied) he kept half an eye on that guy.
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Post by Oz on Dec 13, 2008 9:52:01 GMT 9.5
Sven didn't spare a glance at the younger man he now knew was watching him like a (lazy) hawk. Instead he went back to the end of the bar, amidst the smoke of pipes, the dark spot of the lights, and concealing chuckles of old miners and veterans. But from behind a drink, Sven glared at certain others in the room. Hooded and huddled together, and most definately, inhuman.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Dec 13, 2008 20:05:24 GMT 9.5
Wildfire sighed as Sven vanished into the smoke of the bar. He wasn't much for caring about stuff that didn't concern him, so he just wondered off into his own little loop of thoughts. Luckily, nobody really cared to ask what he was thinking about, but as his eyes wondered around the tavern, a small group caught his attention.
It wasn't what they were wearing, or even what he could pick up from their conversation that garnered his interest-it was a slight glint of gold that caught his eye.
Wildfire was by no means a thief. Granted, he had been known to 'obtain' items that could be considered treasure if they had been allowed to gather dust for a few hundred years, but this was different. That gold wasn't exactly treasure-worthy, but it was far from coin-grade material. Whatever it was, Wildfire was going to keep an eye on that group until he found out for certain.
That is, unless they managed to lose him, which was a distinct possibility.
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Post by Oz on Dec 22, 2008 8:56:07 GMT 9.5
Sven sat calculating potential situations. The mob he watched weren't human, it was as simple as that. He believed them Sirin, or some other animal hybrid. Understandably, he had no real quarrel with Sirin, but had fought more than a few in his line of work. They had an agenda, an agenda the law likely wouldn't care for. In particular they were eyeing up the keeper of the tavern... and had likely learned of his personal vault of adventurers riches beneath the tavern itself.
One of a few things were going to happen, Sven thought. And from all but one he could be paid. The mob would rush the bar, killing those in their way and the tavern master to take his key, then storm the basement and begone. Or they would rush forward, avoid killing, but still ultimately raid the basement in shock and violence. Or perhaps they would approach casually, engage in conversation. And see where it escalates from there, be it asking for a look at the hoard, or quietly threatening the old adventurer into letting them down there.
Now unless Sven was killed in the first of those occurences, he could probably be paid for stopping the heist. Assuming there was a heist and he wasn't just being paranoid. Sven could only hope they were the only ones who'd heard of the adventurers hoard, if even they had.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Dec 23, 2008 19:40:08 GMT 9.5
Wildfire managed to get a second look at the ring. Bah, it wasn't worth stealing. Heck, the gold didn't even look that high quality! With that in mind, he went back to staring out the window.
"Bah, what I did to end up here is beyond me. No treasure, no tips, not even much in the way of fun..." he said to nobody in particular as he waited for something funner than waiting around to happen...
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Post by Treijim on Apr 3, 2009 13:04:43 GMT 9.5
[[Taking control of NPCs for now]]
The mob seemed to act like a host of ghosts. They mostly communicated with one another using murmurs and slight hand gestures, always glancing this way and that between sentences. One would nod, and another would turn its head and then nod back. There were two guards visible. One was sitting at the counter, staring into space. He certainly was not sober. The other was standing... no, he had just gone back outside. The tavern hall was left unguarded.
One of them slowly approached the bar and the rest stayed where they were. The bartender made effort to visually welcome the cloaked figure, as though it would strike him down with lightning if its presence went without notice. The bartender nodded. The figure nodded back. The bartender said something quietly and held one hand out and back. The figure pointed at something behind the bar and then twisted its black glove in a peculiar gesture. The bartender froze. There was a knife in the glove and it was pointed at the man. The tension in the room flooded to the ceiling.
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Post by Oz on Apr 17, 2009 20:52:43 GMT 9.5
Milliseconds passed in slow motion, but the blade bearer had not gone un-noticed by Sven, or indeed other heavily intoxicated patrons of the premises who hurriedly dove for the exit in a fluster of screams. Amidst the chaos Sven's golden cloak flew to his feet again and he stood with a trusty hatchet in hand, all he could reach for since loosing his whip would cause some considerable harm to the fleeing peasants.
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Post by wildfiremagni on Apr 19, 2009 18:42:41 GMT 9.5
Wildfire raised an eyebrow. He couldn't say that he didn't expect something like this to happen, but when it did, all he could really say was "finally, some action." In one swift movement, he got to his feet and smoothly set an arrow into place. He hadn't drawn the bow back yet, given that he wasn't too into a fight right now...well, that and there were still a lot of panicky bystanders that would probably wreck a perfectly good shot. Thus, the arrow stayed partly ready.
"Easy pal, no need to get stabby," Wildfire said as he moved through the crowd in an attempt to get a better shot. It didn't seem possible, given the panic-striken idiots who STILL hadn't found the door, but he'd find a way to stop the knife-wielder sooner or later...at this rate, it would probably be later.
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