[The Rearing Stallion] Playing the Game (Closed)

[Jonathon DuFraine]

"Words shouldn't be underestimated, but neither should a big stick." Jonathon grinned, his hand brushing lightly against his short sword. "Or a sharp one. I'm more of a bow person, though. Why kill an enemy up close when you can just shoot them?" Jonathon ordered another drink, his being empty. The mysteious stranger lived up to his appearance.

"Hunting, and being hunted, it seems." Jonathon gestured at his clothes. "Although, camoflage would probably be better in this situation. You sort of stick out in this garb." Jonathon sipped his new drink. The ale tasted good as always. The Rearing Stallion was always a good place to stop for a drink.

"Speaking of traveling, are you two from here, or have you come from other places?" Jonathon directed this at Nivil and Rovan. "And if so, where do you hail from?" Jonathon liked to hear of lands outside Syliras. As much as he liked his home, he found other places to be exciting too. Sometimes he thought of simply up and leaving for somewhere.

But where to go? Jonathon hadn't been in Wind Reach since he was a very small child. Maybe he should stop by his birthplace someday, see the sights. Jonathon snapped himself out of his pondering to listen to the other table's inhabitants' stories. If they had any.

[Vizyous Aconitum]

"I come from Alvadas, city of illusion," Vizyous then rose from his chair and gave a small smile to everyone at the table, "but now I must leave. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for me and I'll need rest." The Symenestra gave a slight nod of his head, "Good luck with your writings, Rovan, your hunts, Jonathon, and your search, Abu." Without any more said from him, the man paid for his drinks and then began walking towards the exit. oocSorry for the long wait! A lot is happening right now and so I'll be withdrawing Viz from this situation. I don't want to hold you guys back.

[Rovan Dermane]

Rovan nodded in farewell to Vizyous. Then he gazed at the two, keeping Jonathon's question in mind. "I hail from Zeltiva, myself. I am fairly new to this City," he admitted. Rovan rubbed his temple. The huntsman was an eager talker, no doubt about that - his words were ripe of almost any shyness at all. It seemed he would only be content with a grand tale, else he would continue hailing down questions, Rovan thought. He tried to think of something to tell about, but imagination failed him. His storytelling capabilities were not so honed.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Jonathon watched as Viz left the table. "Goodbye, and good luck to you as well." As he drank, he pondered... what kind of city would be called City of Illusions? Alvadas, apparently. "Zeltiva, hmm? I believe I've heard of it, but I'm not sure about much else about it. I know little of places outside of Syliras... well, except the forests and the Cobalt Mountains."

Jonathon looked around the table. Rovan appeared to be pondering something, and Abu simply seemed stoic. They needed something to lighten the mood... Drinks? Perhaps. But it would be better to chat. What to chat about?

After a lengthy silence, he considered leaving. But he decided to try striking up some more conversation before he took that route. "Rovan, Abdul. Would either of you care to tell a tale? If you don't, that's fine, but we might as well get some entertainment out of this meeting..." Jonathon nodded. "If either of you can think of nothing, I have a story or two worth relating. A hunter's life is an exciting one."

(OOC: Abdul, you still around?)

[Rovan Dermane]

Rovan looked at Jonathon. "Oh, by all means. Tell us of your hunting exploits then," he said, opening his palm towards the man. He felt more in the mood to listen than to tell a story at this moment, and he found it to be worthwhile to hear some stories of the wilderness, if he was to venture out in it himself at some point.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Jonathon grinned. "A tale it is, then." And he had the perfect one in mind.

Jonathon leaned back. "Let's see... where to start. Well, I came to this very tavern to look for hunting partners. In fact, this very table. Anyways, I got a couple of men to accompany me on a little trip into the Bronze Woods. Me of course, Klyphaustus (nice guy, but no hunter) and an older man by the name of Hraifn. Hraifn left the party halfway on the trip, after scaring us all batty with false alarms of attacking wolves and the like. But I'm getting ahead of myself."

"The next day, hunting proceeded at a nice rate. We only caught one thing, though; a rabbit. And we had to cook that for food when we camped for the night. So, really... it seemed a pretty crappy trip. I told the others that we were going to catch something tomorrow, but Hraifn must have not believed me, because he left while we were both sleeping. The man had earlier pulled a stunt; saying that a pack of wolves were attacking or something!"

Jonathon had flown into the tale with gusto; he wasn't stopping now. "Well, me being the hunter, I was the first to hear it... Woke me up, too..."

[Rovan Dermane]

Rovan listened intently, his chin cupped in his palm and elbow planted on the table. He guessed this man to be the type that had a hundredfold different stories to tell, possibly mixing up one story with another or spicing it with imagination to make it more interesting. Most likely this man could talk for hours without others getting a chance to speak, Rovan thought. He decided to actively ask questions, mostly to avoid becoming a mute listener. "Why would this Hraifn yell about wolves if there were none?" he asked, rubbing his own chin lightly.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

"What?" Jonathon had told this particular tale only one other time. That had been deemed only mediocre by the listeners. Jonathon had afterwards, when he couldn't sleep at night, revised and went over the story in his head, cutting out parts and memorizing catchier verses he thought of himself. He was no master rhetoric, however, and was thrown off by the question.

"Hrmm... You know, I don't really know. Hrafn was an old smith, Isur. He could have been going senile; or maybe his night vision was on the blink. Or maybe the man was just insane." Jonathon noted to himself to cut the old smith right out of the story. And put in a wolf attack. "The point to note here is, with all the false alarms and such going on, we were paranoid and unlikely to catch a wink of sleep. But we did, and when we woke up, the crazy old fool had gone." Jonathon shrugged. "Strange, hm?"

Jonathon continued the tale. "Anyways, back then I wasn't quite such a light sleeper as I am now, or I would have heard it a half-league away. What did wake me up, though... the sound of a snorting pig. Of course, first thing I did was wake up my partner, Klyphaustus, and we both silently went up to the source of the sound."

Jonathon loved this part. "And you know what we saw? In a little clearing of the trees stood the biggest damn boar I've ever seen!" Jonathon stretched his arms wide, which was interesting because that was the actual length of the boar; about the distance from one fingertip to the other, at full arm's length. He also failed to note that it happened to be the only boar he'd ever seen outside of the butcher's.

[Rovan Dermane]

Rovan widened his one eye slightly. Again he suspected Jonathon of enlarging the tale with the size of beast, although he had never set eyes on one such creature himself in his lifetime. He was in no position to argue with the huntsman's reports of how the wildlife was, whether that would include flying kaskalot whales or man-sized insects. The possibilities were infinite, at least from what Rovan had read of the various monsters and aberrations that covered the dark corners of the world. "Thrilling," he said. "What happened then?"

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Jonathon grinned. He could answer that question. "Well, I had a difficult choice ahead of me. Entire teams of hunters pray fervently to Caiyha to grant them the skill to hunt these monsters. And what did I have? Klyphaustus, an amateur hunter at best, and myself with my own modest skills. It was foolhardy to even think of anything except getting the hell out of there."

Jonathon was enjoying himself immensely. Those who had only known him while he was on the job would not have recognized him; he was often much colder when hunting, due to nerves, professionalism, and to project a more leader-like aura. But those who knew him well enough understood that it only took a drink and a warm tavern to make Jonathon as jovial as anyone else.

"But I didn't. I had caught hardly anything the entire trip, and I wasn't going to let that prize slip through my fingers. So I took my chances. I ordered Klyph into a nearby tree, moved around the clearing and climbed another as quitely as possible, and pulled out my bow. I hoped that with one surprise attack I could end the fight before it began. I prayed with all my heart to Caiyha... and let loose."