xkittyxlicksx

((OOC: uwahhhh this is so exciting!!))

She dreamt of a warm bed, feather pillows, perhaps even a maid to give her warm milk in the morning. What she got was a hard shake from her friend Sophii, the barmaid at a local tavern. The dream shattered she realized she had passed out, again.

"Mercy! Its already noon, everyone is leaving to watch the march..."

The young woman opened one eye and raised her head slowly from the table it was lying on. She smelled something sour over her breath, tainted by a night of heavy drinking.
"I got you a glass of water, try to clear your head love," Sophii said gently, quickly leaving Mercy alone to tend to other customers.
Brushing her fingers through her short, untamed hair, Mercy downed the glass of water and stood up. She wobbled a bit at first, her legs unused to the sudden movement.

"Thanks Soph, I'll pay you back soon, you know I will." she called out, but Sophii had left the room.
Thats the way to treat your only friend... you pathetic excuse for a woman. Why do you even try...
Shaking her head violently, Mercy left the tavern to follow the stream of people trickling into to the town's center. The sun was too bright, she had to shade her dark blue eyes because it sent drills of pain into her head.

She looked like a respectable citizen, an attractive girl. With her small mouth and large eyes, as well as her petite build, she was often mistaken to be of elven descent. If her black hair was only longer, and better taken care of... she could have been a seductress. Hmph, would of could of... what's the point in dwelling on such things... she thought bitterly.

Sure, her pants were a bit wrinkled, the soft brown hide a bit stained... but Sophii had always looked out for her, providing her with free meals and hand-me-downs... like an older sister.
You don't deserve it, Mercy scolded herself, kicking a pebble with her scuffed black boots. You deserve to be dead, just like father wanted...
Shaking her head again, Mercy continued walking.

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Marineking

Sarrisan stood in one of the groups lining the street, hunching over as to not be noticed, Teacher always said a man who was not seen was in the least amount of danger he thought, scanning the ranks of soldiers idly. He hunched often as he walked, being slightly taller then average at six or so feet, he was also wiry, so his hight stood out all the more if he stood straight as his mother raised him to do. He wore nondescript clothes, a slightly used brown cotton tunic and trousers of the same color and fabric. They werent expensive, but they were warm at night and kept him from standing out unless he wanted to. He also wore a dark heavy cloak that cost more then his entire outfit combined, he kept it dirty so it's value wasn't noticed by novice cut throats, but he needed it to keep his weapons hidden. Underneath it all was sleeveless coat of boiled leather and matching greaves.

He tapped his ironwood quarterstaff on the ground as he watched, a habit of his. Most people just thought it was a walking staff, although they wouldn't have any reason to think he was old unless he had his hood up. In truth, it was a weapon, through and through, and he was skilled in using it to his advantage against many types of weapons. Indeed, the quarterstaff was probably his most prized possesion, hard enough to block blows from all but the most powerfull of axe-swings, he coulg knock someone out or break their neck with equal effort, and if the situation called for unreasonable violence, top foot of his staff screwed off to reveal a sharp steel blade hidden beneath. He also carried a number of nives, one almost long enough to be a short sword, and five others of varying length for throwing.

He shook his head at the spectacle and the derison from the crowd around him, parades by soldiers impressed him little, although he had to admit that it probably had the effect it's commander wanted. All those big men and shiny lances could scare any population into good behavior for a time, even if they tended to make people hate the paraders even more. He turned finally, bored, and started down the street behind the rows of people watching the passing men in armor, he didn't have any true destination, but when a pub apeared on the side of the road he was walking on he decided he could use a drink. He walked through the door - quickly scanning the room and judging it safe enough - and sat down at the bar on a stool. He ordered a mug of ale and twisted around, watching one of a taverns typical fights break out between some dwarf and a human thug.

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shadowsworn

OOC: Before I forget, and now that I feel guilty,

No more submissions accepted.

(rp post to be added within two hours)

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Fieren

Leif shook the tavern with laughter, watching as the man pushed his way through the now crowded streets.
"Not just any floor mind me, you chucked the lad into the damn puddle!"
He was struck with laughter again, then slapped Erik on his back mane, who now seemed to regret throwing the man out of the tavern.
"You're a riot Erik, and the best damn companion a dwarf could eva' ask fer. Now lets go check out what the hell is happenin' outside."
He gazed out of the tavern door. It was the typical hodge podge of things on a military marching parade. People gathered by the streets, children hoisted on their father's shoulders, officers attempting to put up their proudest battle face, and last but not least, the ones who do all the dirty work but seldom get credit for it, the soldiers. Marching, thinking if they will last another year.
"Poor bastards." Leif muttered. "Alright, come Erik. Looks to me like they plan to head to the town center."
They started down with the crowd to the town center. Children circled around Erik, giggling and poking at his mane.
"Now now kids, he dun't bite what I dun't have me rifle pointed at, but try not to piss 'im off either. He can swallow a horse if he tried."
"Really mister Dwarf?" A young girl inquired.
"Mmhmm...."
Erik knew that start off for a sentence all too well.
Another painfully detailed and half true story.
"Why, this one time back in Strangletorn Vale we-."
"To keep such an outlandish monster with you! We'll see what happens once it goes ballistic and mauls someone to death!"
It was the same man Leif beat senseless, who kept pace behind them. Now in the safety of a crowd and young onlookers, he was attempting to regain his pride by insulting Leif once more. Leif turned his head to face his.
"Thats what your lovely sister said about my Dwarven hand cannon. But she wadn't complaining a moment after."
"You.. you.." The man kept quiet, then put his head down in shame.
"Oh I got him good Erik... I got him good." Leif tilted his face forward, only to collide into the person in front of him. He fell back to the floor.
"Gah, sorry about that.. er.." It was an attractive young lady. When she turned, Leif was struck to the bone with emotion. Her eyes showed sorrow, regret, neglect, enough to make the most battle hardened war veteran drop down and cry.
"I, uh.." His voice was extremely raspy. He took a second or two to gather himself back up. "You.. Oh come now. Put on a smile lass! Show the men out there something worth fighting for!"

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TheJESTERJ

Disgruntled, Morad marched out of the workshop. " These blasted humans have not even one material I need!" While his thoughts continued to criticize the carelessness of his employer, he himself traversed through hallway after hallway until he found himself back at the entrance. He needed a drink. He struggled to open the doors, but they finally gave way and opened.

" Oh! It's the small one. Why'd you be out at this time? Don't you have some work to do?" This really set Morad off. He jumped up and grabbed the guard's helmet, bringing him down to his height. To his surprise it was the same guard from earlier. " Listen boy, I'll work when I'm damn near ready and I sure as hell don't need a lowlife human such as you telling me what I have and have not." He released his grasp and proceeded into the city, away from the castle. Now he really needed a drink. He turned his eyes to the groups of people gathering on the side of the streets. They watched as soldiers walked down the street, toward the town center. " Perhaps they'll have ale!" Morad exclaimed as he jumped into the crowds, which were now following the soldiers. He shoved through the groups of people in his way, shouting a few profanities at the few who didn't budge.
(sorry about this one, i know its off a bit. im watching the superbowl at the moment and its kinda hard to think)

shadowsworn

The front of the column marches on past the Flying Dragon, moving slowly towards the central square of the city. There is sweat running down the brows of the cloaked and armoured soldiers, and some of them stumble occasionally on the worn paving stones, to the amusement of some in the crowd, who begin to jeer, and even throw the occasional stone.

The officers begin shouting orders, moving the soldiers along faster, as the mood of the crowd grows uglier. Several times, the officers force back people trying to reach the column.

Then, several things happen at once.

One of the younger officers, in full armour and a cloak displaying his house's regalia, and his face red and sweating in the sunlight, pushes back one of the bystanders in his way. In irritation, he pushes her harder then necessary, sending her to the ground.

Several people int he crowd begin to shout obscenities at him, and he turns, half-drawing his sword, and opening his mouth to shout something back.

At that moment, a quarrel hits him square on, knocking him from his horse. He hits the ground with a muffled scream, for a moment his face can be seen, frozen in an expression of agony and surprise.

Then he vanishes in the chaos, as the soldiers break ranks and rush towards where the quarrel was fired from.

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Marineking

His ale having arived, Sarrisan sat and enjoyed the eternal bliss that was cold beer for a moment, before coming back to himself. An unwary man was a dead man, his Teacher would say. He watched the crowd as he drank, amusing himself briefly by watching the dwarf man and his pet finish their little quarrel, then smiled at a few of the tavern girls, particularly a young redhead with a bouncing step that said she liked to dance. His Teacher, were he still alive, would give him a head injury if he saw something like that. A woman was just another weakness to him, but then, Sarrisan never could live entirely up to his Teachers standards. There were some things a man just couldn't do. Unless he was Teacher, of course.

Finally he finished his ale with a sigh, he would order another, but even he knew the dangers of drinking to much. Drunk men die all to easily. He set his mug down with a thump, dropped a few coppers on the table (((OOC: I am assuming that we are using the typical copper, silver and gold currency, sorry if not))), and used his staff to push himself to his feet. With one last glance around the room, noticing a man with the sharp eyes of a pickpocket at one of the tables, Sarrisan left the tavern. Just in time to see a quarrel bury itself into a soldier’s chest. Pushing himself against the wall of the tavern and crouching, Sarrisan sighed inwardly. He should have known better then to drink. Things always happened when you finally got a decent ale in your bloodstream. Raising his quarterstaff, he moved into the crowds.

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Pipster

Gildon smirked, leaning deeper into his chair, the dwarf had just shoved the man outside with the help of his hound. "Pfft... Bloody dwarves." He rubbed his bare chin, he felt like telling the dwarf to shove off, but that would not be wise, with his temper and that hound still around at least. His view of the dwarf was blocked as a somewhat attractive woman strided past, and left the tavern at the strike of noon.

'Ding-Dong' The large tower sounded, there was much hustle and bustle outside, it was audible from Gildon's sharp ears. Gildon looked back to the dwarf, but his eyes stopped at the gaze of a cloaked man, momentarily before looking to Leif, he was begining to stand up, "Aah, thank the gods." he looked out the window and proceeded to leave, taking his hound with him. The shouting out side raised, obviously something was happening, Gildon stood up deciding to head to the center of the town.

It was hot, perhaps too hot outside. Gildon looked up at the blazing sun, the distance was a somewhat blur, due to the heat. There was loud, large... Annoying rioting, apparently a guard was killed, or so Gildon assumed from what the peasents were shouting. It's going to be a long walk...

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Deaths_Legion

((Sorry for the delay, but I've been kinda busy and in a creative slump...hope this suffices.))

Atheyus tried not too be seen as he ran across the rooftops of the fancy houses. The parade made it all the more easier to stay hidden, even in the daytime, but his dark clothes were absorbing the heat like it was nothing, and he felt as if his skin was being burnt off the bone. He resolved to change into more comfortable clothes once he made it too the tavern.

The sign was in view, but too many people were crowding around the tavern. It seems the parade had started there and people were trying to get close as they can. Instead of aimlessly jumping down into the crowd, he took a more stealthy approach and entered one of the windows to his right. The house was obviously empty, being this close to the parade and all, so he made his way through pretty easily. He arrived at the door only to realize that it was being blocked by the enormous crowd outside. "Damn, just my luck..." he muttered under his breath.

The shutters of a nearby window were open, so climbing out wouldn't seem too odd. His clothes were a dead giveaway, and had "vandal" written all over them. He pulled the small pack off his back and took out a traveller's robe. Not his favorite thing to wear, but it worked. He slipped it over his leather apparel and hoisted the pack up onto his shoulder. He hopped out the window and started pushing his way through the crowd to reach the tavern. He had finall reached it, and the first thing he noticed was a dwarf sitting on the ground staring at a stunningly beautiful woman. The real reason the scene caught his eye was because of the massive tiger standing behind the man growling. Not a good sign, so Ahteyus just walked around them.

He entered the tavern and the familiar scent of sweat, ale and salted pork filled his nostrils. Observing the tavern he saw one of his friends, Sophii, working as the barmaid. He had met her by his safehouse once, and apparently she had gotten lost in the woods. He offered to help her find her way back, and the two of them were now pretty good friends. He had come to the tavern every day after that, just to talk too her and recieve his next assignment. His clients often liked to mix areas though, so as not to be caught, so he wasn't able to talk to Sophii everyday.

He approached her and gave a warm smile. "Hey, welcome Atheyus! Can I help you with anything? Maybe the 'special'?" she said with a grin. He laughed slightly and offered her a nod. She winked and gave him a key, pointing to the stairs leading to the second floor. He headed over and started up the stairs. Four rooms lined the hallway at the top, and there was one that he always went too when he came here. The second door on his right was the one he wanted.

He unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a dark room, only one faint light could be seen, and it was that from a lantern. A figure sat in a chair in the far corner, and even though he couldn't see it, he knew it was there. This is where he recieved his assignments, and too keep it secret, Sophii would usually help him with making the bar patrons think something different.

"You've done it then? You have killed the man who was lying?" the nervous client asked.

"Yes I have, now give my my money or I'll kill you too!"

Atheyus realized it was always best to keep these dealings short, lest they drag on too long and someone wandering by accidentaly walks into the wrong room. It was also to prevent the clients from getting testy, but that wasn't the worst part. He extended his hand and made a fist around the small pocket sized bag. The distinct jingle of coins was heard. Not knowing if the man could see him or not, he nodded and proceeded to the door.

"Wait! I have another request. Do you know a dwarf by the name of Leif?"

((Hehe...make this a little interesting. FIEREN, YOU BETTER WATCH OUT!!! >=]))

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shadowsworn

As the soldiers rush forward, they draw their swords and begin knocking those people who don't get out of the way fast enough down onto the road, where they are trampled by the soldiers or by panicking people.

Another quarrel, from the opposite end of the road, near the tavern, this time, strikes one of the soldiers in the shoulder. The man is thrown to the ground by the force of the quarrel striking him, and disappears beneath the human sea.

One of the officers, attempting with difficulty to stay on horseback amidst the increasingly disorderly mob, raises a horn to his lips, and winds it three times.

After a few seconds, an answering horn call can be heard in the distance.

In the meantime, most of the soldiers have gathered on one side of the street, where they are hard-pressed, beating back the crowd surging around them, and taking the occasional quarrel and thrown paving stone. Others move into the houses, breaking down the doors with the hilts of their swords, and forcing out those inside who are not cut down for not yielding quickly enough.

On the other end of the street, Lief is pushed against the wall of the tavern by the crowd, feeling nearly suffocated, as he is almost pushed to the ground. He can see Mercy nearby, intermittently, faring only slightly better than himself.

Sarrisan, because of his quarterstaff and his height, fares better in the crowd. An officer on horseback yells something that Sarrisan can't hear over the crowd. Then he raises his sword, and, knocking people out of his way by trampling them with his horse or by hitting them with the flat of his sword, he moves his horse through the crowd, and takes a swing at Sarrisan, at chest height.

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