(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

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(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

Postby Antar on August 17th, 2011, 7:47 am

oocLast round of posts before I end the thread guys. The follow up will be simply in five days after, on the 30th, of summer. PM if this doesn’t fit your PC’s timescales and we’ll work something out. Also- I plan to take lil’ ol’ darick after the next round and dump him in the cold on the other side of the slums as he’s told me OOC- he’s essentially unconscious the rest of the thread. I’ll be holding him to his word on that :3 We can then have some fun with him.

Noth sighed a moment as the boy tilted over and fell heavily to the ground unconscious before he reached upwards to pour some of the water from his flask over his head to cleanse it of the foul alcoholic beverage the foolish sot had threw into his face. Part of the rogue wanted to slit the boy’s throat out of sheer exasperation for all the trouble he knew he’d cause them all in the future., while another part of him knew the boy’s ability for improvisation in the face of danger is what drew his eye in the first place down at the docks. But still, another part of him, a deeper part of him just wanted to torture him in a slow agonizing death , just for practice of course.

His mind told him to do all of these, and none of them. So he decided on Plan D.

Staying absolutely silent to the rest, Antar stalked up to the unconscious bloke as he drew his kukri blade. He didn’t deviate from what he was doing, no matter what others in the camp cried or did, instead, he slowly checked to see if the boy was actually awake, and found him truly unconscious.

That was good, he frisked the boy, efficiently finding a small pouch around his neck and with a bit of curiousity opened it. It gave a small mildew smell as he pulled out the contents to reveal them in the fires light. The liquid inside the vial was tilted blue, and bore the distinct trace of , ”Poison…” he spoke the word out loud before turning the vial in different directions to take a closer look. Clearing his throat, Noth absentmindedly cautioned the others, “And this boy says I’m an assassin when he is the one carrying this around?” He turned his head towards the Konti, “I don’t think any of its missing from the vial, but I would caution you to abstain from any beverage this boy might have touched.”

Shaking his head disdainfully at the concept of using poison, Noth secured the vial back in the bag before disarming Darik of his weaponry, and then going another step to strip him down to where only his breeches were still upon him. Gathering all the boy’s items he lay them in one stack and turned towards the others, ”Well, after that little ditty I’m not inclined to kill him though I’m not going to let him have a hold of his stuff while in camp. I’ll just return it all later after we discuss the job, but first, I have to beg your indulgence a bit...”

Sheathing his knife, he stood over the unconscious boy and cleared his throat. A few moments later, a rich tenor rang out into the camp, sung with a bit of broguish lilt as Noth began to breath in deeply and use his stomach muscles to propel his voice out into the camp’s night as he started to clap out a slight tempo.

"Roguish debonair I am,
Not an assassin. Boy!
I have good looks and a tan,
You're just a partially grown child,
Whose mother let you run wild...
‘Truth a terror to her you must have been.
But I'm sad to say, that here today,
The one who's a fool won't be me.


Feigning a bit of ire Noth began to shake a finger at the boy on the ground as he continued.

You’re a bonny thief rat, I'll give you that,
With Pluckiness tried and true.
But maybe somewhere in that thick head some sense might come to you:
You’re a rapscallion, a waggish bigliobite, a stain upon the land,
For you let your temper and knavely endeavors get far too much out of hand,


As he sung the first verse of the second stanza he stopped clapping to kneel over the boy. Taking an old coal from the ground he began drawing upon Darik’s face. Little markings like cat whiskers before donning the forehead in a bit of curly cues that bore the faintest resemblance to tufts of wind one might see in scrollwork.

You’ll find one day that you might lose it all.
So perhaps you shall reckon to heed this call,
For you to wake up and realize young pup;
That you are bound for troubled waters.
But I doubt that would happen,
Especially my friend if in the end you end up taking on a bunch of marauders;


At the term , marauders Noth drew a few stick figures with spear like objects in their hands that could have been symbolic of pitchforks if one squinted their eyes and skewed their heads slightly to the left. He followed this by a small squiggle of a stormcloud with lightning bolts coming out of it, sparking fires behind the little stick people that were marching around haphazardly to their own whims.


So Curb your tongue you stupid lout lest someone come and rip it out!
And manner up my boy or you shall find that your eyes have been blind with nary a cure in sight.
For on that day, your body might lay out amongst the waves of Baroque Bay,
A corpse, a deceased, A floater without a head or a name; for one’s actions shall make you perspire.
Just as surely as every day you continue to be a liar.


On Darik’s chin he marked a small “X” at the word of ripping one’s tongue out before translating his penmanship to the an artful spelling of the word, “THIEF” down the length of the boy’s chest in a column of vertical calligraphy that would have made any normal scholar cringe at the lettering’s skewed form.

Just one more moment, I ask a boon to lay this all on the ground;
Forgive me now as I sing out this sound but hopefully this lad might know.
That in Sunberth it’s not best to let his ire grow.
Sadly I think he’ll just lay on the ground and not understand what I mean.
That within three seasons time the rain shall wash his blood clean.


He drew a small skull and crossbones on the boy’s right pectoral, and then translated down the arms a series of runes he made up on the spot. A vast series of circles within circles and arcs of blackened dust grime which met up quite well. He wasn’t sure what he was doing at this point, vaguely remembering to incorporate some of the same sigils that had been drawn on his own body with a dagger when the mage he’d fled from forced reimancy upon hijm. It seemed dark and fitting enough to scare the boy when he woke up. But just to be sure, at the area of the chest where the heart was he drew a blackened spot, which seemed to weep small drawn tears as if from an old tattoo. Though he doubted such stains would be permanent, the first rain would wash them away.

And then his sad and sordid life will be over when the hounds bay.
And people shall ask, “Didn’t you remember the time he danced that day? “


At the boy’s hands, Noth calmly Printed upon the knuckles of the right the word, “F.O.O.L” and on the left the word, “L.I.F.E”. It seemed fitting as he wasn’t really upset with the boy, just trying to teach him a lesson or two about not being a Dek when dealing with others….

On the boy’s legs he scrawled out another vertical line of text, saying “This man is an ASSASSIN????” on one, and “This man is a POISONER” on the other with extra question marks to get the point across to any who found him. In sunberth, that meant he’d have to sneak somewhere to wash up without anyone seeing him, otherwise anyone might just run him through and the daggerhands would surely hang him by the gallows if he was caught with such words on his skin. With the scrawled work done Noth straightened up and stepped back a pace or two to admire his handiwork.

Noth opened his mouth as if to sing one more line before snapping it shut. Brushing off the coal dust from his hands, he turned an amused glare at the others sitting by the fireside, ’Well I guess that’s enough of that foolish malarkey. Anyone else want to sing a tune? Paint some scrawls upon his body with a bit of an old coal like I did? Boy’s got to learn his attitude’s gonna get him killed in sunberth after all. If you guys do want to do anything to him, draw your own little letters, now’s the time. I just vote that afterwards we all ignore him and leave him lying in the dirt, how about you guys? I could use one of your help to drag him outside the camp. Figure a night in the cold might solidify the lesson of not being an arsehat a bit. “

Noth's eyes twinkled with mischief as he brought all of Darik's belongings back with him to the fireside. He stooped a moment to pick up the loaf of bread and the water flask, thrusting them in bob's direction as he sat down. If some got up to torment the unconscious boy, he would not stop them.

In his mind he had already removed the danger the boy placed to the camp by holding him at arrowpoing, dancing himself into a stupor, and then going further to disarm the lad of his weapons, his poison, and the clothes off his back.

To those knowledgeable in body language, they would see the telltale signs that the façade of the previous ‘bullying’ man had been completely washed away as if it was all an act as Antar smiled a genuine smile for the first time as he got down to business. After all he was just like an onion, composed of many layers, and he'd managed this far in life to keep people guessing about himself.


Noth took a glanced at them all, just humming slightly with a mild shrug and began with a few words about the job as if those he'd given leave of being in camp that night had never been interrupted in the first place by the thief. “The job in question I have in mind is a rather simple one. But at least this fellow won’t overhear like he is now. So I’ll be brief- A merchant is looking for people to help him with a problem: his wife apparently may be cheating on him with another man. This means profit for those who keep an eye on the wife, and those who help track down this other suitor of hers. I intend over the next few days if you all are interested: to ask that you help out. Pay is not guaranteed unless we catch the wife in the act and take the suitor’s life. The merchant who is her husband does want us to bring her back to her him in one piece for … whatever he wants to do with her. If you take the job- I will note- if we do find out the woman is cheating on him, what he does with her when we deliver her back: is none of our concern.”

He turned to look all of them in the eye at one point, nodding to each in turn as he met their gaze, “So, Any of you interested in the job? Should have some details by the Thirtieth at the latest. As is, all but that miscreant…” Noth jerked his thumb backwards towards the unconscious Darik, “is welcome to take shelter in the camp for this night. After that, if you really want to stay in the camp more permanently while in sunberth, we'll have to talk though about arrangements. However, I'm sure we’d have to see about you getting yourselves your own tents in time. So, how about it guys? Does the job sound interesting to you? In five days or so, we all might make a bit to help us out.”

oocThis means any monetary sums for the job would be done by levi upon grading of the follow up thread if your interested guys.
"I am the Shadow and the smoke in your eyes, I am the ghost that hides in the night."
~Back, but slow. :)
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(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

Postby Bob Barton on August 24th, 2011, 2:23 pm

OOCSo sorry for the delay. All this took like a week to type up XD

Was it finally over? Yes, it was! The horrible dancing and singing was over. Bob brought his hands on top to massage his temples. Somewhere along the way his brain must have died off because his head felt numb. The horror...the horror... Bob did not expect to see something like this in Sunberth. For a place which boasts badass survivalists he was caught completely unaware that there would be a bunch of pansy women in the guise of men doing their womanly things. Really now...here he thought he was in the camp of some serious Sunberth "businessmen" but maybe he was wrong this time.

After he brought back his brain from death he started recollecting what has happened. "WAIT A SECOND!" he shouted more to himself in realization. From what he had seen the boy had been singing about everyone. The archer, Konti and Isurian, he hid the insulting verses well directed at Bob well. But for Bob the questions came. What about Bob? Where was his song?. It was because of his height wasn't it. That was just pure insulting and heightist on Darik's part. Bob clenched his fists hard. That little brat is going to rue the day he belittled Bob Barton!

Like Bob said. He was in the company of Sunberth women. "You know what they say about poison..." Bob paused to make sure that his next point would go across. "Its the perfect weapon for women and cowards. The boy probably qualifies as both." He'd bet something that even the Konti had more stones that either of the singers. She may be a little bloodthirsty but at least she knew what she wanted and acted on it. Not like the archer here. Bob could tell from the way he looked at the boy and the way his muscles tensed when releasing the arrow that he wanted nothing more than to hit the boy. What a liar. Missing on purpose. Bob reconsidered. He should have let the archer do whatever he wanted to the boy. At least then he would be able to avoid the second song.

Now it was Bob's chance for revenge. Following suit he took a piece of coal of his own. Stupid boy. When you belittle Bob, Bob belittles you. So he started with the face. The first thing a person would see. Now what were the places left for Bob to play with... The coal started rubbing on the eyelids and around the eyes. Making it look like a black and bruised eye. Come to think of it, when he stood back all the mess on his face made the boy look a little like a panda. Bob really was no good at this sort of things. But the next time someone asks, he would be able to say that he gave a Sunberth boy a black eye.

Frankly most of the good spots were already taken by Antar. There was no where else for Bob to make his mark on Darik. But Bob was still not satisfied that he did not get a song after himself, no matter how horrible the boy was at singing. But he was not going to sing to prove his greatness either. No way! Bob was going to stick with his own strengths.

Getting as close as possible to Darik he got into a crouch. Like Antar said, the boy was going to have to learn and Bob is just the one to teach him. Not about Sunberth, Bob had no love for the city or the boy's survival. He was more interested in spreading his greatness all around. Softly so no one else could listen unless they were really interested, "Next time you want to sing a song, don't leave out the important parts" Actually even if Darik was unconscious it would not stop Bob from feeding his ego. Bob is going to tell him the great tale of Bob Barton minus all the bad bits. If his name is going to spread of course it was all going to be the good parts.

"Who is the man they call Bob Barton? He is part of a long line of great gamblers. Though he was small in statute he makes up for it with his gigantic smartness." Bob was boasting but hey, this was one of those rare moments for him. And he really did believe in power. Brain power being the better one since he was lacking in the other. "Life is a game for him since its not important enough for him to take it seriously. He will cheat, trick and lie his way to victory." This was true but it probably has not worked out more times than he wanted... "So boy, when you are out of luck just remember this one question. What would Bob do? Do it like he does. Take every advantage you can to come out on top." That was actually a pathetic way to end his story. But besides gambling there was nothing much interesting enough to highlight his house. Unless he tells the other things that he was not supposed to.

With that out of the way its time to focus on the less important parts. Who ever said that the job was the important thing? The important thing was feeling good at the expense of poor little boys walking around Sunberth after their bedtime. Once that was done only then you focus on the job. And the job was not one which Bob was too keen about.

Bob spat. "What do you take me for. An assassin?" His face shown all his contempt and disgust at the idea. The reason why? "I am a gambler. I take money sure, but I do not take lives!" Bob stood up pretty angry. Snarling and speaking coldly as he did. "I will find out whether the wife is cheating and who she is cheating with, but you can kill the man yourself." The world was built on principles and without principles where would Bob be? Imagine if someone goes against his wager. Gambling won't be fun. Bob stared right at Antar. There was nothing that the man can say to dissuade him from his stance on murder.

Well it was getting pretty late. And Bob was not going to walk through Sunberth alone at night just to get back to bed. Taking back his seat he resumed his cheerful, happy face and tone while he enjoyed his food and drink. "Sure I'll stay for the night. Unless there is someone willing to take me back." The offer sounded nice at first. But with someone suggesting assassination, Bob thought he won't be feeling safe being here for too long. Worst come to worst he might wake up with a knife stuck on his back with people like this if he did wake up at all.
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(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

Postby Antar on September 15th, 2011, 5:05 am

oocSince Tarelde and aberdon haven't posted in 38 days, in this thread, it's time to move it along

When everyone was settled for the night and saying they were or were not interested in the job Antar had a bit of a score to settle with yon little thief who still lay unconscious out in the camp. Many of the others would have flat out killed the obnoxious fellow, and truth be told Antar had considered that option carefully. But... he saw potential in the lad if he grew up a mite and realized his mouth was going to get him in trouble. Worse came to worse, the thief might prove useful as nothing more then a distraction if need be.

After checking to make sure Darik was still out, Noth tied his hands and lifted him up over his shoulder before marching out into the outskirts of sunberth to a rather dilapidated area of the slums. The last thing he wanted was the kid waking up and trying to attack him. It was beginning to rain a bit, but oddly only in the area he was in, but Noth relished the feel of the water droplets on his skin. Surmising that the boy would get a chill or so from the sudden downpour.

Placing him in a small hut with only three walls and a hole in the roof, Noth placed him far enough to be out of the rain, but still with the chill. Then he placed the boy's possessions in a pile next to him, the dagger, and the poison included.

Taking out a bit of charcoal from the fire he scrawled a rather hasty note and placed it on top of the pile before he left.

The Note :
Congratulations on your dancing skills after your failed stealing attempt did little to impress me my little theifing / poisoner friend. Your quick wits kept you alive, and more your pluck and overall ability for aggravation gained my attention. I intend to be paying you a visit from time to time in order turn you into the best theif this side of Syliras. You have been warned... :P
~"A."


Once the necessity of removing Darik from the camp was done, Antar began the long practice of sneaking back through the slums to the camp Drawing his cloak about him to keep the chill of the night out of his bones...

oocAlright Darik, as promised you get one post before I post a follow up to list out all the xp requests *_* Pm me with your skill requests so I know what to put down in levi's office. Thanks :).
"I am the Shadow and the smoke in your eyes, I am the ghost that hides in the night."
~Back, but slow. :)
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(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

Postby Darik on September 16th, 2011, 9:08 pm

Darik woke up feeling quite miserable. He was hot, cold, and sore all at the same time! Other than those natural feelings there was also something else, something that felt very odd. A foreign object that Darik’s senses picked up before he was fully awake. It was inhibiting him somehow. Maybe he had a fever and was a bit off. Darik tried to stretch his arms while lying sideways on the ground to see if it was all just a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t though because there was something terribly wrong. His hands could only be moved an inch before going in contact with a sinewy type substance.

Darik instantly knew what had happened. He was tied up somewhere. He opened his eyes and viewed the situation. He was in a house of sorts that was in poor repair. Half of the roof was caved in, but his captor had been kind enough to put him under the roof part. Under the caved in roof was this huge collection of water. So it had rained when he had been knocked out. How long had he been asleep? Darik had no idea, everything seemed hazy and distorted right now.

Even so he knew what he had to do. Get out of the bounds. He rolled his ankles to see if they were restrained. Nope. Shakily he got on one knee. Now he could see that his possessions were close to the pool of water. Interesting, the captor wasn’t a thief. Very odd in a town like Sunberth. Even so it wasn’t something to dwell on till he was free.

When Darik was on his two feet, he used slow shuffling steps to view the room. He was looking for something that could cut the robe, maybe a really sharp stick. He settled on something better than that, a rusted piece of metal. He waddled towards it, because if you moved fast while bound you are bound to faceplant. When he reached it he put the bonds up to it. Up and down he went like he was doing squat thrusts. The point was to cut the robes, obviously.

It was boring, but Darik did get his delayed gratification. Finally those stupid bounds were on the floor ripped into little shreds. And the best part, Darik didn’t have any rusted metal pieces sticking in his skin! He did have a few splinters but those were easily disposed of. Finally he had freedom, so he went to go get his stuff. He was stiff so every time he moved felt like he was in a different body. It wasn’t terrible, but it was going to be an annoyance for the rest of the day.
In the pile was four things, a shirtcloth shirt, a note, a bag of poison, and a dagger. First off were did the note come from and second why didn’t he just use the dagger to cut the ropes? Not to dwell on things to pass, he picked up the note and scanned it. He didn’t read very much but he got the basic gist of the message. The A guy, what was his name again, Anthony? Would be talking to Darik again. So they would meet again, and next time Anthony would be dead lying at Darik’s feet. Because we all know Darik is the best theif in the world, and anyone who didn't think that should be dead.

When he finished reading the note he caught a glimpse at his reflection. He stared at it in awe. He looked….EPIC! He was completely transformed. On his face were these marks showing courage and bravery represented by these slightly curved lines. Then on his inside of his hands , it showed his similarity to fire, the fierceness that caused Darik to be the leader of men because the men worshiped the fire with stick like things. Now about the black eye… maybe that was a symbol of stalwartness, a person that could take a hit and keep on going.

There was this smudge mark under his chin that showed… umm.. the concentration of the artist. Now onto the words, he had lots of them on his body. Across his Chest, in bold capital letters, was FEIHT. Which meant fight in a less retarded language. Also above the F or below the T, Darik couldn’t tell which, was this skull. They even got this part right, Darik was like death, invincible. Left, or was it right, of the skull was another smudge. They were probably getting sore from how long it took to display Darik’s awesomeness.

Trying to get some feeling back in his muscles he clenched both of his hands. When he did this two words appeared, L.O.O.F, and E.F.I.L. Even with his superior brainpower it took Darik a minute to figure out these abbreviations. Loof stood for; Ladies obsess over Darik, the F obvious was supposed to be a D! And EFIL meant; Evil flies in Light, meaning that Darik could achieve anything by leeching of others. Man whoever did this must have had an obsession over Darik.

Darik didn’t notice the marks on his legs, maybe because the water didn’t want him to see or because he wasn’t paying attention. Whatever the reason he slipped on his shirt and put his dagger and pouch in their resting places. When he walked out of the place he found it was about midday. Were was he going to go? Get a job of course! He did feel a bit off, for some reason he remembered a story about Bob and his adventures and a poetic Antar, but he figured with his charming personality and his marks he could get a job lickity split.
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(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

Postby Antar on September 16th, 2011, 9:28 pm

When Antar returned back to camp he snuck past the others sleeping to curl himself under a wall for the night near the fires, drawing his cloak about himself. He was sleeping outside tonight, to allow the others the use of his tent.
~Fin

skills requests :
Darik:"Directly quoted" :)
Stealth
Busking
Dancing
Singing
Acting+acrobatics
Storytelling/poetry((not sure which one))
Rhetoric
Intimidation
Awesomeness?((come on this has to be a skill!)) Escape artist
Lores: whatever you wish

Antar:
Drawing, Longbow, Singing, Intimidation and Rhetoric (threats), and socialization, Observation.
Lores: whatever you wish
Bob: Drawing***, Hypnotism****** (this thread was started before he lost his magic)

Socialization, negotiation (trying to stop antar from messing with the boy.

Tarelde, Aberdon: Socialization, Others you see? :)
Lores: whatever you wish
"I am the Shadow and the smoke in your eyes, I am the ghost that hides in the night."
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(The slums:outskirts)A night's grace (Aberdon& others ,open)

Postby Cantrip on November 4th, 2011, 10:11 pm

Did you want something?
Image

Antar:
XP Award: Observation +1; Intimidation +1; Investigation +1; Singing +2; Drawing +2
Lores: Methods of Humiliation; Improvised Songs.

Bob:
XP Award: Observation +1; Negotiation +1; Hypnotism +1; Drawing +1
Lores: Enduring Bad Singing; Methods of Humiliation.

Darik:
XP Award: Stealth +1; Observation +1; Singing +3; Acting +1; Acrobatics +1; Escape Artist +1; Busking +3
Lores: Misguided Revenge; Conceit (severe); Improvised Songs; Dancing for your Survival; Human Canvas.

Aberdon:
XP Award: None.
Lores: None.

Tarelde:
XP Award: None.
Lores: None.

Additional Notes: Sorry for the wait. Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if Darik got himself murdered one of these days. His rambling ditty was… disturbing to say the least, and that’s putting it mildly. The drunk shaming and subsequent response was rather entertaining.

Keep writing! ;)
Notice: thread tickets are sold out.
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