To Steal a Dragon's Gold ~5 Spot Rp~
Word has come to your small town by way of a wandering minstrel that a Great Wyrm has been slain. A truly wonderful tale. To keep up on the current events, you find yourself inside the inn's taproom reading a hastily engraved ballad containing the events of the battle.
As you find yourself a seat, you notice that other villagers have been trickling in, scrutinizing the broadsheet contemplatively then sitting down. You listen as the old crippled uncle of the innkeeper keeps bugging the minstrel for details about the dragon. He's convinced that the "Great Wyrm of Kells Peak" was the same dragon he encountered in his youth when he was an adventurer (and had both his legs). And he knows where the beast really had its lair and its treasure. Which is now unguarded. After much debate, you and the other 5 people have decided to work together to obtain these riches.
However, there are bound to be others looking for the dragon's gold, especially when the famous Dragon's Cave on Kellermont turns up empty. And getting to the site over hills and through orc-haunted forests may take some doing - especially when you're hauling a one-legged old drunk and an annoying minstrel who wants to tell "the real tale" of the Dragon's Gold. As you traverse a lawless land, your band will encounter many challenges. You are only held together by greed and self-righteousness. Allegiances may turn, bandits may attack, anything could occur as you doggedly seek the slain dragon's gold.
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A;th~FORM~
Name:
Gail Cyrek
Age:
20
Appearance:
Gail, standing at 170 cm has ashy-blonde hair which fades to more of a brown as it hits the roots.
She purposefully does her hair so it drops over, predominately covering most of the left side of her face. She has a facial deformity as well as Facial Palsy causing asymmetrical detailing on her face. On the right side, she has full lips, a very proximate cheekbone, and arched eyebrows. On the left side, her cheekbone is sunken, almost fused with her skin, and has a slight cleft palate. The left side of her face appears to be melting as if she were caught in a fire. She has smooth, olive skin and long, jagged fingernails. Gail speaks quietly with someone of a lisp as she only has a full range of motion on one side of her face. She has a curvy hour-glass shaped body and dons in modest clothing. For a girl her age and stature, she is very muscular. This is due to her training in front of the forge. Her fingers are rough and callous from gripping heavy metals.
Personality:
Gail is very softspoken. She does not like attracting much attention as people have a tendency to stare. She is very insecure about her face and does her best to conceal it. She gets very annoyed if someone asks about it. However, with this silence comes the ability to listen. She observes the world around her and is able to spot even the tiniest of details. This silent brilliance has made her a stellar judge of character. She reads body language very well and has a certain flare of stubbornness about her. Still, she is very dark. Generally, when she speaks, most people cannot hear what she says, which is probably a good thing because what she does say is usually pretty dark or gory. She often says random and slightly disturbing things and speaks extremely softly anyone can barely hear her. Gail seems to be pretty timid but is generally ruthless. She is a bit of a pyromaniac and will do almost anything to get her way.
Background:
She and her mother live on the outskirts of the village, where they do not get much interaction with humans. When Gail's mother gave birth to her, the village folk were appalled, they called her a sinner. According to them, Gail's facial deformity was a sign of her mother's inherent sinfulness. Their father still cared for her mother but couldn't be seen with her, if he was, he'd risk his reputation. So, he remarried. Her father was a blacksmith. Gail's mother has picked up his trade after he left. She has taught Gail it as well. Their father will come to their home once a week and pick up their gear to sell in the marketplace. No one will buy a sinner's produce. Still, times were rough and they were living in destitution, they could barely pay off their fief every year. Gail was forced to provide the things her smithery could not. She took to the backwoods and started with scrounging for food. Then, moved on to making traps to catch small game. She never got her hands on a bow so she rarely takes anything big down. She has learned to use the rusty family fishing spear though. Gail spends most of her time trekking through the woods, animals don't stare at her in horror. Occasional runs to town must be made and her mother sends Gail out to do those. The villagers stare at her with mistrust or pity or just plain horror.
Relationships:
Mom- Gail loves her mom dearly, she does a lot of the farmwork
Dad- Gail thinks that her father has betrayed her, she distrusts him but since he sells the food, she is never outright rude to him.
The Village- She rarely shows her face in town and has a general uneasiness towards them
Trivia:
Gail has facial palsy, this means that half of her facial muscles are very weak. She is unable to emote with that side of her face.
She speaks with a sort of lisp because of it.
She is left-handed.
Although she cannot read, Gail loves hearing as much as she can about dragons, ogres, trolls and other magical creatures
She is interested in magic but thinks it to be evil
Job:
Blacksmith
Skills:
Spear Fishing, Basic traps, self-taught knowledge of plants, animal behaviors, knowledge of weapons crafting a repairing, she can swing a sword, ax, and lance due to her strength but has received no proper training in wielding them.
Anything Else:
None for now
SAVE SPOT PLLLEEAASSEE, WOLF!
Edit: Did I post too early...I'm ssoooorrryyyy
No, you're perfect!
Just re-readthe rules
Save me a spot!
Will post more to marrow!
Your up there but re-read the rules please
I've come! Will ppst the form later once i have access to computer
Your spot has been saved!
Just re-read the rules.
Opps, sorry! Will do that in the form post!
Name: Byrn the Hunter
Age:23
Gender: Male
Appearance:Dark brown hair with blackish roots, he has icey blu eyes that seem to look to you very souil, he wears his hair in a short birade, not longer then a few knots. His face is slightly scarred with the most noticable one being just under his left ear and going to beneath his eye.He is tall, about 6" and muscular, he has a sturdy build and typically wears a browny green colored tunic, earth colored leggings, and a green cowl and hood. He wears leather bracers, and tall furry moccasins.
Personality mostly cold and ncareing, he's out for what he wants, and is really only interested in what something can do to benefit him, he is generally very terse and unfeeling. He can gentle up, but it takes the right kind of person to get to him that way. He's smart, but not book smart, just comments sense smart.
Back story: WIP
He was in town and saw the notice while selling some animal skins
Relationships: none for now?
Trivia: He likes trees and wilderness and being alone, he dislikes people, he's a skilled horseman and lives alone in a forest somewere
Job hunter, trader and wanderer
Skills, archery and horseback riding, he's a skilled hunter and a crack shot, he's not the best fighter though, and relies on his fists for close combat
Anything else? Nope
~My Form~
Name:
Kora Jayla
Age:
17
Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Personality:
Kora is incredibly agile and at home in the wilderness. Kora loves to hang around the wild cats around the forest. But, she will also hang around actual people when necessary and only when necessary. She prefers to be alone, but can act like she's having a good time with people. Kora is verey smart and knows how to build painless traps in the forest. She also finds a villager or two in the traps from time to time. Kora loves to read and will spend hours reading and also writing in her journal. Kora also sews and will sometimes sew things for people in the village for money.
Realtionship:
....none...
Background:
Kora was born and raised in a house that was in the forest on the outskirts of the town. Kora would come into town a few days a week and would mingle, just to show that she was still alive and has not been eaten by animals. Kora was an apprentice to the villages' Healer for three years and has learned a lot of healing methods. She loves to ccok for herself and mother. Also her younger brother has learned how to cook some by her. Kora has made herself part of a lion pride hom have accepted her as one of their own. She grew up around this pack of lions and has a tight bond with them. Of course she understands that they are wild. But she respects them as wild animals. She doesn't train them. They will protect her and let her touch them, but they will not follow her anywhere dangerous.
(I watched a vid about a woman who integrated herself into a lion pride. Is that okay?)
WIP
Trivia:
Strengths:
~Kora is agile
~Quick and light on her feet
~Is very open-minded
~At home in the outdoors
~Flexible and strong for swing on branches
Weaknesses:
~Loves her wild cats
~Can't speak very well when it comes to making conversation
~Is klutzy when it comes to walking around town
~She is very closed-off
~Not good with people (she just makes it seem like she is)
Hobbies:
~Hunting
~Sleeping
~Sometimes sewing
Job:
Huntress and sometimes seamstress
Skills:
~Hunting
~Sewing
~Bow and arrow master
~Cooking
~Herbal Medicine
Anything Else:
A passing trader named, Harizumin taught her how to read and write. They became close and he now visits her often and helps her journal her discoveries about her lion pride.
I just need to say that not many commonfolk knew how to read or write in the middle ages. Education was for the nobles, Lord's and ladies and the occasional trader. Although there are lions in medieval Europe, none would be large enough to be able to ride. Especially by a full grown woman. After reading an article about lion training, I know that they are not safe to have around lots of people. They are wild animals.
http://www.rexano.org/ResponsibleOwnership/Husbandry/big_cat_training_Frame.htm
Please take realism into consideration. You can have pet lion as long as you treat it realistically. If you cannott I suggest that you take up being a falconer. Now, your character to work with other Predator animals. Thank you.
I have revised it to where I think that it is acceptable, but you're the judge of that :)
It is good however I am not too sure about the leader thing. Only male lions can be leaders of the pride, they are in charge of protecting the pride and fathering the offspring. If your character were perceived as the leader, she would be treated aggressively during mating and would essentially destroy the pride as no cubs could be born. Also, wandering male lions kicked out off their tribe would challenge your character for leadership. She would be getting constantly attacked by lions.
This is what I am basing my charater off of. There are 3 male lions and 1 female lion. SO I guess not really a pride, but a small.....Idk.
Thank you for being so patient with me. :)
That was very cool!
There are a few key factors that were met though. First of all, the lions were very young. Their manes were not even grown in yet. Usually, with male lions, once their manes grow in, they have this excessive need to dominate. Second of all, they are in captivity. They are catered to their needs, they have no need to hunt, they are full. Wild lions need to hunt to survive, your character would be seen as prey. Thirdly, that woman raised them from cubs. And lastly, not many other people are allowed inside that enclosure. Taking a lion to town would be devastating. The fact that your character's pride hasn't already been discovered and culled is stretching it enough. Lions were known to steal livestock and cause harm to the people. They were killed on sight. I feel like your best option, is to of had your character grow up around the pride. She interacts with them but never to the point of physical contact. They are used to her presence and will defend her if need be.
Name: Cameron "Kame" Reiner
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearence: (Might post picture later) Kame is a tall and lanky man with long golden hair that tied into a pony tail. thou the top of his head/bang was short and messy, especially now that they're being push back by the (medieval) goggle it stood up and look all spiky even more. He has green eyes and pointy nose, like to wear short cape. He got serveral different outfit depending on the ocassion. The really casual one being him wearing cape on top of nothing and showing off his bare mid section and arms, with the baggy pants. He could also wearing something underneath but usually just the normal worn out lenin cloth. Or it could be a fancy long sleeve silver fabric and that cape would drape neatly on the shoulder. Sometime he wore mask made of big bird skull that stuck a deer atler on top of it to hide his identity when he steal from the thief.
Personality: Lax and carefree, Kame hates to be bound by any rules or responsibility and instead making his own ways. He's cunning and charismatic in a way that make him look intimidating and cool. Despite this being a big part of what he do, he can be genuinely stupid and naive in some situations and despite the dishonest nature of what he's doing he is....actually a pretty nice guy, with morals even. He tries hard to be a pacifist but ended up k,illing thieves more than one time(accidental and doesn't know they'd d,ie from that wound). Kame always like to act extra dramatic in most situations.
Relation: As far as he know, none.
Background: Or to put it this way: He had one(and likely to be a noble too) but it's likely that they throw him out from their roof since teenager with just a bag and nothing else and Kame would turn around and declare that he wouldn't give them a single gold coin when he made it big. Since then Kame started out ้his journey on a road, but soon realize that finding a job is not his ideal. Already lacking religious belief people this age so bounded too Kame steered himself into a life of crime; stealing from the death. but at the end of the day, he know better to keep a good reputation and stay on the good side of the people. "An archaeologist!" he declares, in fancy dress he stole from the noble travelling elsewhere, knowing that not many know what the words mean and thus gain access to all the tomb he needs. picking a few coin people would put in the urn and sometime coming out of it with said urn and making up stories about how it belong to the ancient being of wealth. He used that few coin to rent himself a room for a night in the inn and for food. but on his bad day when he made none he would lives in the wood and steals from fellow highwaymen, never from the normal citizen(unless they're not home and he'd only steal cloth, not coins). He is the type that would spend all he earn for the day, and never stick to one city to keep that traveler stories. Kame has a dream that one day when he's stable he'd afforก a place for a guild of fellow actual archaeologist who'd find weird stuff and animals to entertain people and charge them for it.
Trivia: Have a strong fondness toward animals, especially the weird exotic ones. Don't have horse and would mount on something else he found like cow and moose instead.
Job: Self-proclaim Traveling Archaeologist (Which is just a fancy way of saying that he's a jobless con artist/highwayman who raid tombs and sell fake artifacts)
Skills:
Speech 100: great with "BSing" his way out. A touge ten times sharper than his arrow, despite that not all of it work and some may even backfire him.
Con-man tendency: Good with reading other people to explode their needs as well as good with catching the similar shading action he himself normally use.
Charismatic toward animals: like speech, not all of them work
Survival 101: such as swimming, starting fire, foreging, camping, making arrows.
Archery: Only decent
You did perfectly. No worries.
Everyone seems to know how to hunt so I changed Gail's profession to add more variety.
When does this begin? I'm here all day I believe.
When we get more people
Name: Rose
Age:19
Gender: Female
Appearance:
This is her dress
Personality: Sweet and caring, she loves to help people and learn new things. She loves animals and nature and cares for others a lot. She is a fast learner, and q loyl person who cares what others think and feel
Back story: She grew up in the village. Her father is a merchant, not super rich. But the Lord is trying to take their land if they can't pay it, so she wants to help her family and get some treasure and be rich
Relationships:
Her Father: a bitter and sad man with a pessimistic view of the world, 70
Her Mother: a sweet and gentle woman of low birth who loves her daughter, 43
Her little sister Violate who is sick
Trivia: She is a merchants daughter
She loves cooking and is good at keeping things clean
She enjoys sewing
She is scared of big animals aka moose, bears, anything big and very violent
Job Seamstress
Skills, sewing, cooking, cleaning, singing, fast learner
Anything else? No
Accepted! The age difference between her father and mother scares me. XD
To love till 70 back them was a huge accomplishment although not unheard of.
This might ruin that. Actually it wasn't uncommon back then for older men to marry young women, girls were often married at young ages, even as young as sixteen, to me old enough to be their fathers. In such a case, their romance is probably shorter lived then you think, as a romance typically started after marriage, if at all. Marriage was a fact, not often a choice for young women.
I know. The first part was my personal opinion, the second was fact. I did a lot of research about the middle ages for this roleplay
Thank you! Actually there only been married twenty two years, and yeah, her mom was actually 21 when they got married. She was gonna be a old maid otherwise. But thats how life worked back then! (Yipe! Her dad was fifty when he married! He was nearly twice as old as his wife!!!!! Oops?)
I will join today! But just save me a spot.
Name: Aerhth Whaunt
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Appearance: 5`11, dark brown hair, cut short. Clean shaven, a few scars, wears brown cloak, grey mantle and trousers, black leather boots, and a pair of leather tassets.
Personality: Generally likeable, he prefers to be alone, and has a no-nonsense attitude when it comes to disputes, usually finding it simplest to settle disagreements with bare knuckles. He likes to find the humor in a situation, sometimes when not warranted. He is okay with deceiving those around him to his benefit and does not hold other people in high respect. He does follow a personal moral code, treating women with respect, children with kindness, and his enemies with the least amount of pain as possible… most of the time. He believes men are obligated to protect women and children, and it is a dishonor to your enemies if you engage them with any less than the best of your abilities.
Background: Aerhth`s father was a knight who collected toll on a bridge just south of his home. He taught Aerhth the basics of combat and most of the moral code which Aerhth lives by. Because the local lord had Aerhth`s father to collect the toll, Aerhth and his two younger brothers had to manage the money changing business his father originally occupied. When Aerhth was seventeen, the local lord recommissioned Aerhth`s father to fight in his army. When he left, Aerhth and his brothers continued to manage the business until word came that their father had fallen in battle. They had a dispute on how they would divide the business, but before it was settled Aerhth was commissioned by the local lord as a peasant soldier in his army. Aerhth left his brothers to squabble over the business while he joined the ranks of the local castle. He was disgusted by the character of the other members of his regiment, and when he learned of some despicably appalling acts that were occurring within the castle walls… let`s just say, it was quite an episode. The aftermath left him going back home, having upheld his honor and thoroughly sown great levels of mistrust in what was left of the local castle`s ranks. Upon returning home, he found that his youngest brother had accused his other brother of promising payment to an officer of the local regiment to have Aerhth sent away, as to remove him from the business and him being able to keep a greater share. This, Aerhth was told by the town members, led to a series of events that to one brothers execution, another`s murder, and their business being burned to the ground. Having nothing left in his hometown and facing possible retribution from members of the local regiment, he left. He now wanders around, officially as a merchant but has become reputed as a cheat and thief due to some unscrupulous dealings.
Relationships: None
Trivia: Likes dogmeat, dislikes coffee, is not allergic to poison ivy (meaning poison ivy doesn`t sting)
Job: Merchant, mostly weapons.
Skills: While sorting things out at the castle, he had an encounter with a knife fighter, or someone who was adept knives for combat purposes. This piqued his interest with knives, and in the years of his travels he has grown proficient with them and owns quite the collection. He also learned the basics of sword fighting from his father, and he and his brothers, along with a few friends, educated themselves on the aspects of fistfights. He is a good negotiator and knows how to get someone to give him what he wants, whether it be goods or information.
That is all. Let me know if I need to change anything.
I hope to get artwork done in the future (maybe)
((time to start!))
((I literally spent 30 minutes researching 'how to make a sword' commitment!))
Sweat dripped down from the gritty pores on Gail's tanned skin. The conflagration before her roared stentoriously, consuming anything she threw at it. The blazing heat cut straight through her heavy leather gloves, biting at the skin underneath. Gail half carried, half flung the metal sheet onto the anvil and retrieved her hammer. She flicked her goggles down onto her slick face and raised her hand, striking down against the 26 inch blade. Sparks flew in all directions, stinging her face and singeing her sculpted eyebrows as she hammered down the bevel. A curved blade allowed greater stability. The sonorous booming echoed throughout the forgery, luckily Gail had the foresight to wear ear plugs. Beside the forge, in some corner something was rotting. She smelt it the day before was kept meaning to do something about it. A rat probably died there. Once again, Gail got distracted as her train of thoughts shifted. As the glowing red-hot metal cooled, it transformed into a chalky white colour. Gail expertly grabbed what was to be the handle and shoved it back into the fire. She stepped back a few paces, gasping for breath in the heat of the forgery. The work was strenuous but definitely rewarding. After a few minutes, Gail retrieved the blade from the forge and set about curving the bevels once more. She hammered equally on either side of the sword.
“Yhooo-hooo?!”
Gail almost did not catch the sound. Between the earplugs and rapping of the hammer against metal.
“Yhooo-hoooo!”
Gail tilted her head at the yhoo-hooing. Pulling up her whitening blade, she marched across the stoned forge and suck it in a quench-tank of frothing cold water. Vapor was released into the air with a satisfying sizzle. Leaving the sword there to cool off, Gail placed the heavy metal cover over her forge and opened the flimsy door leading outside.
The residue smoke that wasn't guided outside by the chimney flew out of the shack in grey tendrils. There was a sound of coughing from unaccustomed lungs, a hand waved away the smoke.
“Did you finish beveling?” Gail's mother's petite and gaunt face appeared in the thinning cloud of smoke.
“Yes.” Was all Gail replied in barely a whisper.
“You know, you don't have to do all of the forge work. I can help to.” She prompted.
Gail stared at her mother skeptically, she could hardly imagine her mother's delicate hands working on something as arduous as metalwork. Her mother seemed to understand the silent response.
“Very well. I'll clean off the blade. It has to be covered in soot by now. You get yourself cleaned up. You look like you were dragged through a volcano!” She licked her thumb and attempted to wipe a smudge off her cheek. Gail glared harshly and slapped her mother's groping hand away from her face.
“I need you to head to town to pick up some bell, cross and straight peen hammers. Most of ours have dulled.”
Gail sighed. She could of tried to make some but, did not know exactly how. Her mother had this very conservative policy to never “waste” any materials.
“Can’t I just make some? And, do you want to see a dead body?” Gail asked quietly in an attempt to warn her mother of the rat.
“What was that?” Her mother asked, straining to hear her.
Gail sighed and brushed past her mum.
“Wash your face while your at it!” Her mother called after her. “You'll be pretty in no time.”
“Cremation is my final hope for a hot body.” Gail tried, still barely audible. She absent mindedly touched the left side of her face.
Her mother laughed. “Yeah!” She exclaimed pretending to of heard what Gail just said.
As Gail was stomping through the extensive backwoods to get to the town, she had stopped by the stream to wash every bit of grit and grease from her face. Even finger-combed her dirty hair which, was supposed to be blonde, looked more brunette. Gail pushed a sheet of hair in front of the left side of her face, covering her burden in a veil. Now, she was almost to town, the dirt path she had trekked so many times had gradually faded to a wide, cobbled street. The occasional person had transformed into a bustle. Their town was relatively small, so everyone knew each other and even though they could not see her face, Gail noticed people whispering, pointing. Mothers drawing back their children in protection and men recoiling. She caught some sympathetic glances which sent boiling rage coursing through her veins. She turned towards her father's blacksmith shop when something caught her eye. Beside the inn stood a large tac-board with a flimsy sheet of paper attached to it. Being a small and negligible town, it was unheard of to spot a message on it. Generally wandering minstrels passed them by, as did any royal news. Gail found herself wandering towards the board and stared up at the hastily engraved message. Although she could not read,most people in her village couldn't, she was lucky that a couple was standing by the sign, reading it aloud to any passer-byers.
'The Great Wyrm of Kells Peak is dead. Slain by a noted hero who died of his wounds. Said to hold 1 millions pounds of gold in its cave. Journey at your own risk’
“Oh my heavens!”
Gail turned to see the couple who were reading the sign staring directly at her.
“Addison, it's not polite to stare.” The man murmured and nudged his wife.
A piece of hair had dislodged, revealing her left cleft palate. Gail hastily shoved the hair back in place. She had seen that very reaction many times. The double take, the wandering eyes. How the person tried to look anywhere, everywhere but at her face. Gail turned and walked into the inn, intending to pester the innkeeper about the sign out front. If she could get the gold, her mother and her could move out. Live deep in the woods where no human dared to dwell. Where no one would call her a monster and her mother a sinner. Kellsmount wasn't very far from their town, only a 3 day ride, 6 days walk. Of course, it was through orge-infested forests however, for the gold, it was worth the risk.
Byrn walked slowly, carefully setting down one part of his foot, then the other. Ahead of him in the forest, he could hear the crunch of leaves, the quiet sucking of an animal at the stream. His hand went silently to his quiver, and he selected an arrow and notched it to his ever ready bow. A deer stood at the stream, drinking eagerly of its cooling waters, Byrn chuckled silently. A good kill and several days meat, he might even get something for its skin at the smithy shop. Pulling the string back he rounded the corner and raised his bow. A sound of feet in the forest nearby startled him, and the deer was off in a heartbeat. Over the hillcocks and stream. Byrn growled in frustration and released the arrow angrily. Watching it shoot into a tree nearby. He glared through the trees to see what had ruined his hunt.
A girl, covered head to toe in soot and grime stepped through the trees and stopped at the lake. She reached down and scooped up water to wash her face. Byrn looked closer. The left side of the girls face hardly moved, in fact, it was slightly slack, almost like the skin was barely hanging onto the bones. Byrn's brow furrowed. Here was an unfortunates creature.
The girl didn't seem to notice him, and he did his best to make sure it stayed that way. No good could come of being caught staring, especially with a face like hers. The girl moved on towards the village and Byrn retrieved his arrow.
Returning to his base he hefted a heavy bundle of furs and skins and set off for town. Deer or no deer, he was making his sale, and he wasn't going to miss a stop at the in for a tankard of mead.
The pathway had been there when he cameto this place, although he had helped to make it more clear, and when he reached town he was astonished at the amount of people. After depositing his skins at the tannery, he headed over to see what the commotion was about.
Byrn didn't like people as a rule. But a hubbub was something to look into.
"The great Wyrm of Kells Peak is dead!" Someone whispered. Byrn frowned. The wyrm had been up there as long as he could remember, and he had heard before of someone supposedly slaying it, only to have the beast reappear again, clearly not slain. He rolled his eyes until he heard the name of the knight who had slain him.
"Poor man died though, so he won't get a bit if the treasure." A woman muttered. Byrn felt a tug at his curiosity. "Treasure?"
"Aye lad, a treasure. The Great Wyrm was said to have more gold then any other beast ever. Only now, its dead, so the treasure lays unguarded."
"More then any other beast? How much would you say that is exactly?" Byrn inquired. The woman shrugged. "They say its over a million pounds, but if you want to know for sure, they're talkin' over it inside."
Byrn thanked her and walked inside.
How curious.
Rose whole up late in the more thing. She shouldn't have been up so late spinning! Rose looked at her little sister Violate who was asleep and kissed her, Shake up honey."
Violate smiled and coughed, then got up. The sisters got dressed and had breakfast. Then Rose was told to go to down by her mother so she does. She goes into town and its just outside their door cuz they live in town unlike other folks. Rose sees a lot of people gathered and thinks about it, she gets what she needs from a vendor at the market and brings it home? Then she goes to the inn and asks what's going on "oh its the Wyrm it died." People say so she goes inside to ask about it. "What is this I here about the Wyrm I heard it died."
~Kora~
Kora was sewing a dress for Mrs. Wimple and she was just starting. She knew that she had said in a couple days and it had only ben one day, but Mrs. Wimple always blows things up to be bigger than they actually are. So Koras plan was to get the dress half finished and then go into town and tell Mrs. Wimple the news.
Kora, liking her idea, went to the shelf and grabbed some silky blue fabric and then she went back to the sewing table. She was so happy that she had her own little cottage-like house to sew in. After she picked her fabric, she measured how long she needed it to be. "2 1/2 yards", she mumbled to herself. She cut it out and every time he closed the scissors on the fabric, she felt jittery. She loved that sound. After she had cut it out, she brought it over to the wash board and bucket. It was already full of hot water and soap. She put the fabric in and started scrubbing. "Always wash your fabric", her mother always told her. Just then, Baer, her younger brother, came in. "Whatcha doing", he asked, leaning against the wash bucket. He was small, only about five years old. "I'm.....", Kora said, thinking, "...making a dress for Mrs. Wimple". "That old lady", he said making a face, "she always pinches my cheeks". Kora stared at her wash board, trying to be careful with the fine fabric. "That's not very nice, Baer", Kora replied, pulling up the fabric and wringing it out. "I'm sowry", he said, putting his head down. "Just don't say that again", Kora said, bringing the fabric over to the wash line and holding it there with a couple clothes pins. "It should be done by tomorrow", she mumbled. Then, curious, she looked to Baer, "why did you come in here". He looked around ad scratched his head, "oh, I wanted to ask you is you were going to see the lions". Kora looked up at the ceiling and tried to think, "yes I did, this morning. I'm guessing that you want to see them, as well". Baer looked everywhere but Koras' hilarious facial expression, "yeeesssss". "Alrighty then, after I get back from town". He stared and then shrugged, "mkay. But remember that you promised". Kora nodded and began to dry her hands and then she took off the apron and put on her nice new coat that she made, "I'll be back soon. Tell Mother I won't be long". "Will do", he said as he turned on his heel and walked out of the door.
Kora began the dangerous journey to town. She walked on the dirt road that led through trees and over the river. she kept waking, hearing the occasional sound of birds and some insects. Once she made it to the bridge that separated her and the other side by a strong-flowing river, she began to think, I wonder when this bridge is going to fall. She began to carefully walk across it. She was a careful, but reckless one and would always take her time on the bridge and slowly bounce on it to scare the living daylights out of Baer. She got across and planted her foot firmly in the grass so she could run the rest of the way. She remembered that Mrs. Wimple worked at the inn. So she gunned it all the way to the village and once to got to the base of the village, she leaned down and placed her hands on her knees and caught her breath. The wind whistling past her while she ran was definitely the reason why her ears were pink. After catching her breath, she casually up to the inn and stopped in front of a sign:
'The Great Wyrm of Kells Peak is dead. Slain by a noted hero who died of his wounds. Said to hold 1 millions pounds of gold in its cave. Journey at your own risk’
Now Kora was interested, but she waved it off as just a random thought. But then she thoguht about it again, I could get Mother and Baer a nicer place. And they wouldn't have to eat the same thing every night. They deserve so much more. Kora walked into the inn and saw Mrs. Wimple standing at the inn front desk, "my my my child. What brings you to town", Mrs. Wimple called out, rather loudly. Kora, now used to her wanting to proclaim everything she said, walked up to the desk and gave her her, 1,000,000 pounds smile, "oh I just wanted to come and tell yo uhow your dress was coming". That was when Mrs. Wimple smiled most gleefully, "child, is it finished", she pulled her spectacles up and looked around Kora for any sign of a dress. "No ma'am, Kora said, but then hurriedly added, "but it will be...on the morrow". Kora sighed with relief. Mrs. Wimple huffed but nodded, "very well". Kora waved her goodbyes and went to get a seat. She sat down and thought about the sign.
((Whew. This took a while XD Anyone feel free to interact with her))
Kame was holding up inside the inn today, on his favourite spot, with bread and drinks in hands. He peaked inside his bag to see that there're only few coins left to spare after this, not enough to rent a room for another night. No matter anyway, Kame knew even if he had enough he wouldn't stay long to overstayed his welcome and soon he would resume his life on the highway road. Because that's what a traveling archeologist would do, they don't stay in one place for so long(Plus he need to get off this fancy cloth and wash them by the river soon anyway). As always , Kame would wait til the last minute to come up with the plan of where he'd heading next, usually it involve rumors he'd hear inside the inn or town.
and today is one of those days.
Kame's ears perk with interest when he hear all those excited whispers all around him, haven't been out of the inn yet, Kame haven't seen the actual sign but he gathered enough that what ever it is he should get the gear in his head to start turning. Kame gulped up another shot and big bite of bread, back turns against the world as he faced his feast but his ears done the job for him.
Byrn wandered through the inn. It was packed and he hardly had room to step, much less stand. People stood about chatting in all corners of the room, talking about the sign by the door and every other topic under the sun. Byrn had been here before so he was used to the inn being the busiest place in town, but not to this extent.
"Ah, the greatest hunter in all the town has come again to my humble inn." The innkeeper Gorm greeted him. Byrn scooted around a table and to the counter. "Hello to you too." He answered gruffly. Gorm smiled, he was a large man, and in a way his smile made him seem to beam at one. In a moment he had a tankard full and ready for Byrn, who took it thankfully. "So, how's the hunting?"
Byrn took a sip of the mead, ah! It was the old stuff, the best ever. "Not good enough to make me rich." He answered, silently prompting the innkeeper to tell him about the Wyrm.
"Funny you should mention, there's actually riches for the taking out there, or so I here. Just have to be the strongest around." Gorm sized him up and smiled.
"Is that so?"
"Aye, but from the looks of you, you could make it right fine."
"Oh?"
"Aye. The old Wyrm of Kells peak is said to have been slain by one of them knight fellows. Poor lad died from the inguries he got bin battle though. Leaving that treasure unguarded, an' free for the taking."
Byrn nodded, smiling slightly he wiped his mouth. "Well to bad I'm too busy round here." He answered. York's face fell as the young man thanked him for the mead and laid two copper coins on the counter.
Byrn tried to find a table, but they were all full. Finally he found one with only one person seated at it. On normal occasions he would have preferred to sit outside, but that wasn't a choice today.
"Pardon, do you mind if I sit here." He asked, his voice rough and his tone in kind.
(Mew...I think I that I figured it out)
PPardon, what did you figure out?
A Wym of Kell you said? Kame thought as he listening to the innkeeper talking to another man. The said man later asked him if he could sit down the seat next to him
"Uh. No, go ahead suit yourself" Kame said with not much care, waving his hand about. Still deep in thought, the money obviously would be rewarding, perhaps even enough to start his own guild and forgetting about sleep in the inn every other night or worst by the road but that isn't the thing he intersted in the most. It's a Wym after all...they're talking about a death Wym who used to guard its treasure, in the den...the treasure that got to be more than just coins of gold... A Wym's treasure. The possibility is there...
((Oh wait I haven't realized Kora has already sit down as well...so if you meant to talk to Kora then I can edit this :) ))
(It was really for anyone.)
Byrn sat down on one of the stools, for the most part the man at the table seemed to ignored him, so his did the same. Sipping his mead and thinking about the treasure. They say dragons collect a lot of treasure, and from what both Gorm and the woman outside had said, this one was especially large. A great prize to be sure. Especially for as little work as there had to be done to gain it. He could make the journey in a week, maybe less time if He didn't sleep. There was always Fergus to think of though, his trusty horse that he had left at his place in the woods. A horse would speed him up, but also would need lots oif rest.
Byrn went to take another censored of the mead, only to realise it was gone. He swished the tiny droplets in the gotten a minute, looking around at the others in the room.
They'd be fools not to try and get the treasure for themselves. Their village was too small to be noticed by many, but with enough good, it could become richer then the capitol! Why, the man to come back with the gold would surely be recognised both locally and abroad!
Byrn kept his face stoic, but his eyes were shining beneath his good like two dark stars.
Recognition, power, wealth, respect t. He liked the sound of they. Draining the final swigs of the ale he set down his cup and sat back against the wall, ignoring his stablemate, yet watching him.
His thoughts flashed between the treasure and what it could mean, and the man before him. The man was clearly wellmoff, or at least tried to give that impression with his colorful and fashionable yet worn cloths, he wasn't much older or younger then Byrn himself, and had the quick eyed look of a fox.
He was none to keep an eye on, he just might be after the gold himself.
~Kora~
Kora sat on a corner table and watched two other guys sitting at a table. She noticed Mrs. Wimple gossiping about her to the Solor family. They were nodding their heads and gossiping back. Kora had no intention of dropping any eaves. Even though she was a master at it. She slid down in her chair and folded her arms after pulling her hood down.
Kora decided to order some food. So she ordered Akame, a delicacy that was expensive, but she had money. As she thanked the server, she noticed Mrs. Wimple pointing at Kora. Kora smiled at the server and then shook her head when the server left. Kora gulped her drink and ate her beef. She savored every bite and decided she should probably go to the market afterwards for some extra food for the house.
Kora thought about the dress. She was going to get 3 pounds for it. Oh how excited she was. She could buy some more silk fabric so her mother wasn't wearing rags. She could sew Baer some new clothes and toys. Mrs. Wimple may be a gossiper, but she has money and she liked how Kora made her dresses. So....score for Kora.
There is a difference.
There is a difference. The stare of an unconscious man is much different than that of a dead man. An unconscious man`s stare is…
“Oh, just search him already!” Aerhth told himself mentally. He had a habit of going on about random, useless observations. He leaned over and began rummaging through the drunkard`s coat. “Hmm, a flask, a quill and some ink, a wallet, I`ll keep that, and… oh, what have we here.” He produced a small knife, sheathed and having engravings that at one time had gold inlay on the handle. He smiled at this find until he unsheathed it to reveal a rusted blade. “Why you bungling dunce!”, he said to the unconscious form below him, this time out loud, “I could have gotten a good price for this.”
He threw the knife into a nearby bush, and then examined the coat some more until… voila, he retrieved the envelope he was looking for. He erected himself and examined the scoundrel he had laid out moments before. He would awake in a hour or two, but even if Aerhth was still here, he would be in no shape to try to get back at him. Aerhth quickly looked around out of instinct, but no one could be seen from inside the alleyway behind the inn. No should have heard anything, either; Aerhth had started by slugging the man in the throat so that he couldn`t cry out. He then drove the man`s head into the inn wall and finished with a right hook into the man`s temple. Aerhth examined the envelope he recovered. He knew its contents; a blackmail letter, intended to convince a landlord to evoke an old widow from deceased husband`s land. Whatever those thugs wanted with that property didn`t matter; most of them were dead, and the rest no longer interested. This thug still had possession of the letter, so Aerhth followed him to this tavern where he found him drunk. Aerhth went into the inn through the back door, pausing a moment to examine the bloodstain left by the man`s head. He walked into the middle of the room, eliciting a few glances. He took the envelope in his hand, and expertly threw it into the lit furnace, destroying whatever secrets that those fiends wished to exploit.
He turned and began walking toward the counter, and then stopped a moment when he realized his stunt with the envelope had caused the few glances to prolong and multiply. He also noticed how once those glances left, a distinct murmuring could be heard, like a chorus of crickets. He sat down at the counter and ordered some ale. The innkeeper was a large fellow, an advantage in his trade. He looked Aerhth over more than once while serving his grog, and when he handed the mug to Aerhth he looked around the room, implying that what all those lads were talking about was something to be interested in.
Aerhth got right to the point. “There something they know that I don`t?”, he asked the innkeeper, in his usually rough but calm manner. The innkeeper gave a small chuckle and turned to face Aerhth, “You`ve seen the sign outside, haven`t you?”
“I noticed there was a sign, but I didn`t have time to look.” The innkeeper looked slightly confused at that, but silently shrugged it off.
The innkeeper, like Aerhth, got to the point. “The Wyrm of Kell was recently slain and the knight who killed it didn`t recover from his injuries. It is said that the beast had over a million pounds in gold in its stash, which now lays unguarded.” He gave Aerhth an implying look, and he gave him an understanding nod and began to ponder. A million pounds. Even if he got a portion of that, it could set him for life. Of course, he had been doing just fine with what he had. There would bound to be others after the treasure, and along with the risks that accompanied the journey alone, his chances of success where very low. What would he do with that money, anyway? Just live the rest of his life in luxury? Travel the world? Become a lord… or unseat a lord. Like that wretched old tyrant who is ruling over his home. The one who took his father away from him. The one that took him away from his brothers. The more Aerhth thought about it, the more he realized what opportunity was staring him in the face. He beckoned to the innkeeper, who had moved on to serve other customers. The innkeeper walked over, somewhat disturbed by the dark glint in Aerhth`s eyes.
“Where can I get more information on the Wyrm of Kell?” The innkeeper cast his glaze to a table where a minstrel was playing some music. “He was the one who posted the announcement, that minstrel over there. He`d be the one to ask.” The innkeeper had poured himself some ale and took a swig. He wiped his mouth and continued, “You can also ask my uncle Judd. The old nut says that was the dragon that took his leg when he was young. He also says he slayed an entire pack of wolves with a rock.” He the innkeeper chuckled, and then pointed to a stall on the far wall, “He`s sitting right over there, if you want to talk to him.” He chuckled again, expecting Aerhth to understand his meaning. He did, but decided it was a good chance anyway
“I believe I will, thanks.” He picked up his ale, took a swig, and made his way over to the table. The innkeeper looked on in disbelief but shrugged it off. What should he care if the young man misguided himself?
Aerhth gave Judd a once-over. His beard was unkept, but perfectly white. His head was bald, and his clothes were in bad shape. He glanced to the next table over. There sat two men, each one peculiar in their own way. The first was obviously eavesdropping on others, but his clothes were what stood out. They were an upper class`s outfit but needed to be washed and were overly worn, something that an upper-class person would not stand for. The second man`s clothes showed him to be a hunter, but his demeanor was intriguing. Both were largely ignoring each other, in thought so deep that neither noticed him. He made a mental note of both and sat down in front of Judd. Judd was startled by him and looked up from his empty mug in surprise. Aerhth looked at him in the eyes and decided to be concise, “What can you tell me about the Wyrm of Kell?
(Man, this is fun already! Let me know if I am making a faux pas by naming and describing the uncle)
I smile as I walk in. People are all talking about some Wyrm of Keel so I ask about it and the innkeeper whonis named Gorm tells me it got dead and there's a treasure to be had. Treasure! I ask more and he nods me to where some others are talking to a singer and then to his uncle. Bthe uncle already has a visitor but its just one and the singer has lots so I go to the uncle. He's already being talked too so I just scoot in and smile at them just coming in to hear what is said.
Byrn had learned as a child how to let his eyes film over by not moving them at all and perposefully losing focus. A trick that never failed to make people believe he was lost to the world and couldn't notice them.
But he was a hunter, and a hunter is always listening, for one knows that all that can be found is not found through sight alone. The blurry image of a man approached the neighboring table. Although his image was blurry, it was clear he was three things, one, a traveler, two, not well to do, and three, in the prime of life.
Byrn didn't move when he heard a request, quite close, to hear about the Wyrm of Kells Peak, but his ears perked up and he focused all his attention on what the answer would be.
Unfortunately, before it was given there was the sound of another approaching. Brightly dressed and clearly female, her blurry image flashed a winning smile as she sat at the neighboring table.
Byrn grunted a little, would the old knave get to it already?
((eek! Gone for 12 hours. Uhh i have some stuff to catch up on! Some of you have already started to RP the innkeeper, which is okay since he is an NPC. However, he will be a pivital role in helping the grigr locate the treasure so try not to contradict me.))
Gail had somehow managed to get by with minimal staring. She shouldered past a lanky blonde-haired man with shifty eyes, the hairs along her neck rose as she passed him by. Gail had not seen this man before, perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was her inherit distrust of strangers although something about him set her on nerve. She ambled up to the bartop table and flicked a golden coin at the innkeeper. He was the only resident of the village whom she knew by name. Bradyn Grom. Although most people knew him by “Grom”. She was not well acquainted with many of the other residents of the village, although, they were well known with her. She was somewhat of an infamous local “celebrity”.
“Fancy seeing you here, Gail.” The crippled innkeeper remarked, scooting towards her in his wheeled contraption.
Gail looked at him from behind a blonde curtain of hair.
Bradyn smiled cooly. “Here for the treasure aren't ya?”
That's what she liked about Bradyn, he was straight forward, down to earth and was the only person in town, aside from her own mother who treat Gail normally. Probably because he was too drunk to realize the difference but, who was keeping score?
“This reminds me of the time when I to dared to journey into a dragon’s lair!” Bradyn stared at her intently, Gail stared back. “You wouldn't mind lending an ear, would ya? Nah- of course not. You see, when I was dressed in a younger man’s clothes, I was an adventurer! I was the best of my time, I was-”
“Alas!” The voice cut through the dim inn like a saw through leather.
“Gather 'round, ladies and gentlemen and listen to my tale of woe! Of adventure! The real tale of the great Wyrm of Kellspeak!”
Bradyn Gorm huffed indignantly and set back to work taking orders and filling Mead. A long, lithe, lanky man had stepped on to the small stage in the inn. His clothing marked him as a minstrel, a crowd began to press around him, eager for more information. The minstrel cleared his throat.
“Perhaps I will tell my tale if you so courteously spare a coin.” He removed his hat and held it out to the audience.
Gail rolled her eyes at the bustle that followed as everyone emptied their pockets, practically throwing their money at him. This was more of a business prospect than a show.
“Much obliged. You see, my fair ladies, far up in the hills lived a mighty beast. Teeth as sharp as swords,teeth that crave blood. Evil eyes that glare into the depths of your soul.” A few of the ladies gasped in horror. Gail sipped quietly on some Mead.
“Claws the size of your bodies, claws that click menacingly on the stoned floor, claws waiting to tear their next victim to shreds. This Wyrm has a particular taste for human as it was a human that took its eye.”
There was another gasp, although this time, it did not come from a yellow-livered woman, but Bradyn Grom.
“That cannot be!” He exclaimed and wheeled out from behind the table. “Alistar lives north of kellsmount.”
“You named him?” Someone muttered.
“Pardon?” The minstrel looked up, his face a bit too placid.
“The Wyrm you just described is the same Wyrm that took me legs.” Bradyn gestured.
“My description of of Kellspeak Wyrm is pretty generic.” The minstrel said flatly, finally allowing his annoyance to slip into his tone.
“The missing eye. I should know because I am the one who took it.” Bradyn replied sharply.
“It wouldn't be the Wyrm of Kellspeak if it didn't leave on kellsmount.” The minstrel reasoned impatiently. “Does anyone have anything else they’d like to share?”
“I set fires to feel joy.” Gail replied, despite the fact that it was a rhetorical question. Still, no one heard her soft voice.
“I'm telling you,” Bradyn muddled his words “Alastair doesn't live on kellsmount.”
“And are you going to travel all the way up the mountain to prove me wrong?” The minstrel sighed, wanting to get back to his story. It was a pointed remark, a jab at the innkeeper's
lame-ness.
“I think I will.” The innkeeper snapped.
“Exactly how?” The minstrel challenged, paling a bit.
“I will have help. Who dares to journey with me to Kellsmount?” Bradyn raised his voice.
No one moved.
“Okay, who dares journey with me to Kellsmount to collect the bounty of good undoubtedly lrft by the slain wyrm?”
Silence filled the room. Gail found herself slowly raising her hand into the air. She was the only one who dared go first. The room broke out into instant whispering and gossiping. The sinnspawn was going? Surely the trip must be cursed. Still, despite the gossip, Gail noticed a few other hands raise skyward.
((You can have your characters volunteer.))
~Kora~
Kora dropped eaves and listened in to the girls' conversation and eventually a full-blown conversation between the minstrel and the innkeeper. Kora finally heard him ask who would journey with him. She sat there contemplating, if I go, I'll hopefully find treasure. And not d.ie. I am postive that I would not d.ie. Kora made up her mind, her family needed her. She stood up, "I'll go", she said, quietly, but loud enough to be heard. Mrs. Wimple stared in shock, "w-who would finish my dress". Kora nodded, "my mother can. She taught me everything I know". Mrs. Wimple huffed, "fiinneee". Kora tirned her attention back, "I will go. I have horses that we can ride".
Kora, realizing that she was, now, the center of attention. She stared from underneath the comfy cloak, her gold eyes peering at everyone.
ByrByrn heard a few folks going on about the "sinnspawn" and nodding at the girl with the odd face he had seen in the woods earlier that day.
Shaking himself silently, he focused his eyes again. He had seen many a minstral in his day. And this one was no different, this meaning he was worthless to listen too. Only now, adventure, a chance at riches!
Byrn couldn't stop the gleam n his eye, well here was a chance if anything!
"I'll go." He stood, walking, or more like wading, through the gathered crowd. Gorm smiled at him, as if he knew the lad would step in and take his side.
"But the sinners child is going lad."
"Aye, we cant be Loren a fine hunter as yourself, let some other fool go."
Byrn muttered a hot retort under his breath "Aren't we all sinners woman."
Nodding at Gorm was all that was needed. The innkeeper looked about, searching for more hands. Byrn cast a look about the hall for others, hopefully, yes, most of the village men would stay. Such a trip was sure to be foolishness, but Gorm's word had never failed him yet. Let him seem a fool, he'd be rich, and then they would see who was the fool.
After all, a strong and able bodied lad as himself, with little competition, could make it there and back, richer then a king.
With a nod to Gorm he walked out the back door as hubbub insure. Blood marked the doorposts, and a limp form of a man sat outside the door. Byrn pushed him aside with his boot. A glance told him the fellow would live. Although what ever had brought him down was a grand scrapper, a creature, or man, to be watched.
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Spots
1. Kora Jayla (Valasari)
2. Byrn (RheitheBrave)
3. Cameron Reiner (Chameishida)
4. Rose (Rheileen's Storm)
5. Aerhth (Saved)
6. Gail Cyrek (Wolf and Star)