Location [Syliras Location] The Welcome Home

[Alistair deGrey]

Damien ran off with the toy and Alistair watched him with more than a little apprehension, he had never dropped the toys before and did not know how they would react to a severe collision. Luckily the child did not collide with the ground, and left with the toy intact. Alistair took his eyes off the departing toy and the child that carried it to examine the luxurious room he had entered. Everything was so finely crafted, even the chair he sat was worth about half as much money a he had ever earned. deGrey's apprehension at being in these unusual surroundings and the well being of his toys flew entirely as his hand traced the intricate designs of his chair. This house was leagues beyond anything deGrey had never seen. It was only after a few seconds more of contemplation that Alistair realized he had forgotten about Stitch,

"Oh yes, I must apologise good sir Stitch, umm, where was I?" deGrey tucked his hands underneath him, but quickly withdrew them with a slight exclamation as he remembered his hand, "Ah, no good sir Stitch, I do not require a bandage. My hand is not bleeding you see, just a tad bit sore. Just as well, there is no need for apologies, it was naught but a slight blunder by myself." Alistair set his hands on his laps and leaned back against the chair, smelling the old fabric. It wasn't antiquated, but he guessed the furniture had been here for a while. "This place is fascinating, my good sir, almost as much as your tale of how you came to ownership." Alistair considered Stitch's questions about his store, "Good sir Stitch, you flatter me with your compliments. But really they are unwarranted, my proprietorship is truly not as interesting as I might have you think. I look at my business as an outlet, mayperhaps. Yes, that sounds correct. You see, for most of my life I have had no resources or home to bring my knowledge to fruition. This setting I've acquired here in Syliras has afforded me both of those, as well as a chance to improve the lives of Syliran citizens. Thus far it has been difficult but rewarding employment."

With that Alistair stood up, "Good sir Stitch, I do apologise for this abrupt departure. However, I must be getting back to my shop. I have a small amount of inventory to complete before night falls. It has truly been a pleasure to converse with you Stitch, Syliras needs more benevolent souls such as yourself." With that, Alistair listened to Stitch's farewell and departed.

[Jaquise Emittere]

51'st day of Winter 509 AV

In preparation for this day, Jaq had refrained from drinking the night before. This meant for the first time in many a day he awoke with neither a headache that caused him to double over in pain at the simplest of sounds nor a sickened stomach that left him revisiting breakfast not a few minutes after finishing it. Such a momentous occasion would normally only herald a day of business or work for Jaq, for going to either with such problems was not the way to keep ones head. However the reason's for Jaq's late night sobriety involved neither blood nor mizas. Stitch had told him that the mans place of residence was in fact n orphanage. It wasn't even an abandoned orphanage but in fact a real working one, kids and all. Jaq never really considered himself the man of honor he once had been, but there is a difference between nursing a hangover in private, and cursing every ill begotten child that crossed his path for walking to loudly. So He had limited himself to water the night before.

This unusual event of health had three affects on Jaq, and two of them were in fact good. The first was a full nights sleep. He felt better rested now from a night of fitful slumber in his tent then he ever had in a mattress. The second affect was the ability to appreciate the morning in a way that he rarely got to do. The sun rising in the east and spreading the warmth of the day. An invigorating thing for any man, especially those who more often then not fail to see it. The last affect though was not nearly as pleasant as the others. For the most part, Jaq drank out of enjoyment for its affects. His handling of magic on a daily basis keeps him from ever truly becoming addicted to the substance, but that has not kept him from relying on it at times. The life of a mercenary is not one that a person likes to reflect on often. Oh sure the successes are fun to share and embellish upon, but they make the failures leave an all the more gruesome a mark on the mind. It was one such failure, where Jaq only survived out of pure luck, that inhabited his mind last night. So while Jaq's sleep had been fitful, it had not been uneventful. And unlike the other times where a searing headache would occupy his thoughts and banish the nights terrors, Jaq had to wait for the rise of the sun to be free.

Of course being the stubborn man he was, Jaq would not let these thoughts ruins his day, nor his first visit to the home of a new friend. It was on this note that Jaq arrived at The Welcome Home. Lying in the shadow of the castle that dominated the city, it was a building completely separate from the marble the city was made out of. From the looks of it, it appeared to be newer then other parts of the castle. Just as Jaq stepped onto the porch, two women came out of the building, each holding a bag. They had been talking to one another, but upon seeing Jaq both of them stopped. The younger of the two seemed a little bit scared, while the older of the two seemed to harden and grow angry. At first he thought it was his general appearance that had shaken them so. He supposed it wasn't there fault considering how Jaq looked being so pale, having so many scars, and missing an eye. It was the thought of how Stitch looked that made him realize the woman's eyes were both on his sword, a katana with a blackened and beat up wooden sheath hanging at his hip. Jaq had grown so used to the weapon and was so often around others with similar items that he forgot the affect it had on people.

Hoping to avoid an incident Jaq Slowly raised his hands and put on his most innocent smile, closing his fake eye so as to not bring any focus on it and further worry them. "I mean no trouble. Good friend Stitch had told me to drop by should I ever have want to speak with him."

The younger women seemed mostly appeased by this and her stance went from a person ready to start running to a person ready to jump back. Not really much of an improvement but enough. At his words though, the older woman seemed to grow angrier. "I will not have a ruffian such as you bothering the children here. Do not think I would hesitate to call the knights here simply because you claim to have a friendship with the good man of this home."

OOC :

I hope you don't mind the NPC's. I read in the description that some widows help manage the place and I couldn't resist messing with Jaq a little. If you want me to change it I can.

[Stitch]

The front door to the Home opened, and a young girl came charging out, one of those kids that the older woman had referred to. Fixing Jaq with a cold stare, she came stalking right up to him, popping his personal space bubble. She was shorter than him, but did her best to get right up in his face, her bright blue eyes flickering dangerously. She glanced at the sword, then him, then at the older woman. "First off, you will do no calling of any Knights. They are much too busy to be dealing with a lone woman complaining about something she thinks could merely bother the children of this home." The old woman blinked, taken aback by the sharp tongue of the younger girl. She looked as if she was only twelve, if not eleven. The old woman and the younger girl locked gazes for a moment, having a stare-down. The younger woman shrank away from the confrontation, looking to Jaq pleadingly as if asking for help. The silent fight would only last a few moments though, before the old lady quickly bowed her head, defeated. "You are right, Fentya. I am quite sorry." Shooting Jaq a look that could kill, the older lady scurried away, the younger lady soon following.

Fentya turned to Jaq, and before he had time to gloat, her tongue had turned to him. "And you! Walking around with a sword on your hip, in broad daylight! Are you a thug? A robber? Addicted to the feel of something hanging from your waist? Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She snarled at him, throwing up her hands in disgust, and stalked back into the house, slamming the door behind her. It all took place in about twenty seconds.

After a few moments, footsteps would be heard, and the door would open once more. Stitch was standing there, an apologetic look on his blind face, a stricken smile on his lips. "Ah, Jaq, hello. This one thought it might be you." However he might have guessed that, no one knew. Everyone could tell his blind eyes saw more than most, but no one could really put a finger on exactly how much that was. Stitch stepped aside, holding open the door for Jaq, beckoning him in. "Don't listen to Fentya, she is in a bit of a bad mood today. This one apologizes for her behavior, and as soon as this one gathers the courage to approach her, this one will make sure she apologizes as well."

Jaq would be led into the Welcome Home, a small lobby being the first room. Stitch smiled at him brightly, waves of mysterious warmth and friendliness radiating from him. "Would you like a piece of candy, milord?" Stitch had pulled a bowl of it from a small desk sitting in one corner of the lobby, and now offered it to Jaq. The room held a few more chairs, and that was basically it. "This one is happy you decided to drop by, milord. Is there anything in particular you wished to visit for?"

Stitch was happy to see the man. He had friends that visited almost every day, and perhaps Jaq would become one of them. He didn't know the human very well, he had simply met him on a bit of an odd journey they had gone on together. However, he had instantly taken a liking to the man, and had asked him to visit sometime. He was glad the man had taken him up on the offer.

OOC :

Quite alright! You did a very good job in roleplaying them. <3

[Jaquise Emittere]

Whatever anyone said about the man, however he looked, Jaq could not help but like Stitch. The man went beyond acting nice to the point where he simply was nice. It was a wonder there was anyone out there that could truly love life but Stitch somehow managed, despite or maybe even because of what he must have went through. The stitches all across his body for which he had gotten his name, or nickname Jaq wasn't sure, must attest to some horrid experience. Jaq didn't know the man well enough to ask. Jaq himself had some defining characteristics, but being blind it seemed Stitch had never noticed. What he did notice was a mystery though. When Stitch apologized Jaq waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Children will be children. In Riverfall her attitude would be welcome, though molded to be more suitable for a warrior." In truth Jaq did not blame her for acting as such. While he did not like the fact she had yelled at him for carrying a sword in such troubled times, he was sure her manner would be useful to cow any true burglar or miscreant meaning this place harm and would serve her well when she was older.

As he was led inside Jaq was greeted with what must of been the lobby, judging fro its small size. Other then a few chairs in the room, the only thing it contained was a bowl of candy, which Stitch proceeded to offer to Jaq. "No thank you good friend Stitch. I'm not one for sweets. My reason for coming here is simply a visit. I don't have any work at the moment and I would otherwise spend my time drinking away what mizas I have. I figured a trip to see a new friend would be a much better, and less costly, use of my time." As an after thought Jaq added, "I would be lying though if I said the thought of a sparring match or two had not crossed my mind since we last met."

[Stitch]

Stitch could remember when he had first met the man. It wasn't a meeting Jaq would remember, for it wasn't when the man had first met Stitch, which was on their little quest together. Stitch had been walking home one night from a visit to the Stone Gardens. It had been late, very late, he had gone to sit a little with the widows who slept there. On his way back, he had ran into Jaq, who had been in the middle of grumbling a bunch of choice words at a little kid. From what Stitch had been able to gather, the little kid had accidentally bumped into Jaq, and the lovely man had been quite drunk. Jaq didn't make much of a fuss, pleasantly enough. He just continued muttering his colorful vocabulary, and then kept on going. However, the circumstances had soon changed. The young boy's sister had come running after him, a girl a little younger than Jaq, and had profusely apologized for her young sibling. Apparently the little rascal had been trying to run from a bath, and the chase had taken to the night streets. It was rather amusing on how Jaq had turned into the perfect image of politeness, even when slap-happy drunk. He had used proper manners, language, and even thrown in a good bit of flirting, for good measure. Amusing, to say the least. No harm done.

Stitch withdrew the bowl of candy, nodding, taking one for himself and then sitting the bowl back on the desk. Popping the piece of candy in his mouth, he quietly sucked on it while the man explained his visit. At the mention of a fight, Stitch smiled even wider than before, eagerly nodding. "Certainly, milord. Ever since the martial school this one attended went out of business, this one has been hard pressed to find sparring partners. This one assumes you mean to practice hand to hand combat, or your katana?" He gestured at the weapon the man held, then motioned for Jaq to follow him back out the door he had entered through.

They would go outside, and then take a small alleyway on the side of the Home, that led to the fenced-in backyard. On the way, Stitch went ahead and solidified a few rules. "No pokes to the eye, no blows to private areas. Nothing life-threatening, please. Otherwise, feel free to use whatever tactic you wish." Stitch would have winked, if he wasn't blind and wearing bandages. "We shall fight for points, or for KO rules. One solid blow to chest or face equals a point, or a knock-out or a count-out is a loss. Your choice, milord. Or if you have any rules you wish to offer, please feel free." He smiled at Jaq, leading him to a small wooden gate in the side of the fence. Unlocking it, he entered the backyard. It consisted of various toys lying around, a small slide and swing, a large variety of wooden swords, and grassy ground.

Stitch motioned at one of the swords, cocking his head at Jaq. "Would any of those work, milord?"

[Jaquise Emittere]

"I'm impressed that you know the name of the sword. Its not exactly a common weapon." Jaq almost smiled at the thought of having to go hand to hand with another in combat. His only experience in such fighting involved a lot of alcohol, a lot of insults, and a lot of tables flying. Stitch, being the patron of an orphanage, did not seem like the type who would enjoy such a brawl so Jaq shook his head. "I don't think I would provide much of a challenge if I were to forgo a sword."

Stitch motioned for him to follow and led Jaq out through the same way he had entered. Stitch lead him down a small alley that opened up into a fenced in backyard, all the while explaining to him the rules. They reminded Jaq of the rules used for sparring match between guards not on watch in a trading caravan. Without the betting and drinking of course. As Stitch opened the wooden gate Jaq took a quick look around the backyard. Several toys were lying around on the ground. Jaq could also see a small slide and swing. "It all sounds okay to me."

He didn't notice the wooden swords on the ground until Stitch motioned to them. Jaq looked at each with an appraising eye before settling on one only slightly shorter then his own weapon, and made out of wood a great deal more sturdy then anything that went into his poor excuse for a sword. He took a few practice swings so he could adjust his moves to the weight then nodded to himself as a show of approval. His selection made Jaq moved over to one of the wooden posts of the fence and unequipped his sword belt. Then he hung both the belt and his hat on the post and turned to face Stitch. Jaq gripped the handle of the wooden sword as he was taught to, one hand near where the guard would be; one near the end with his dominate hand being the one highest. He squared his feet and lifted the point of the wooden sword, which was about as blunt as the rest of it. "First round count-out for a warm up, 3 points sound good? Whenever your ready."

[Stitch]

The blind man motioned at the katana, chuckling. "This one doubts he would know what one was, if one of the children did not have such a fascination with sharp, exotic weapons. Perhaps milord should spar with him sometime, this one is sure he would love it."

After the small bit of small talk, Stitch was ready to fight, smiling and nodding. "Whenever this one is ready, of course." Taking a deep breath, he squared his feet and bowed at the waist, angling the bow toward his opponent. A show of respect, and a build-up for a plan that would go into effect later on. He held the bow before just a split second, before standing straight once more and setting himself into a fighting position. He was lightly crouched at the knee, allowing himself a good range of lower body movement. He was on the ball of his feet, not settled, only allowing that much more movement. His body was turned sideways, left side facing his opponent to give a smaller target. His right arm was stretched out a bit, slightly bent at the elbow to provide room for it to snap in a multitude of directions. It was clenched into a fist, and the muscles bulged powerfully, giving a bit of an idea onto how much a blow would hurt. His other hand was drawn backwards a bit, and the palm was open and facing Jaq.

Stitch slowly shuffled forward, considering his opponent. The man seemed proficient with a blade, and comfortable with the mock sword in his hands. Focusing a bit, Stitch cocked his head, tuning in to Jaq's aura. The man seemed calm as well, wasn't quite yet nervous about the fight. Should he be, really? Stitch didn't know the extent of the man's sword skills.

The practice round could be used to develop strategy, and Stitch would do so. Slowly shuffling forward, all the while growing comfortable with the soft blue glow of Jaq's aura, Stitch eventually neared the man. He was staying outside of the man's sword range, or what he assumed the man's sword range was, somewhat encouraging him to step forward with a sword strike. If he did not though, Stitch would happily go on the attack.

The orphanage owner stepped forward, a powerful step, propelling body weight forward. Simultaneously, his fists moved, switching positions. The flat palm shot forward, Stitch twisting at the waist a bit to basically fling the open palm toward Jaq's face, the strike straightening at the elbow and aiming to connect heel of hand with bridge of nose. His fist snapped back, opening into a palm, already ready to guard the chest, or flicker up to slap away a strike aimed at the face.

Secret :

Here is the stance, I am not so sure how well I described it.

[Jaquise Emittere]

Jaquise watched the patron bow and returned it with a nod of his head, not as easily noticed without his rather large hat.

Stitch moved slowly around Jaq for a moment, seemingly studying him. Jaq himself was curious as to how the man could gain anything by looking at him, but pushed the thought back for later. The way he moved suggested practice, which meant Jaq was in for a new experience. He fought unarmed foes before with his sword, but rarely were they any good.

Jaq didn't see any subtle signs, he didn't notice any shifting of weight. All the warning Jaq had was the sound of the powerful step. It was enough this time, though perhaps cutting things a bit close. Jaq moved quickly, though perhaps not as quickly as his opponent. He took a quick step back and began to spin around to the left. As he was spinning around Jaq sank his body to about waist height and brought the mock sword in a sweeping attack aimed for his opponents midsection. The spinning added some of his own weight to the attack by sacrificing the speed with which a normal sweep could be employed. It also meant that should the opponent adjust his attack it would follow his body and simply roll off the side, opening the enemy up even more. Jaq didn't expect to get anything more then a grazing blow at best, but should the man take a step back Jaq would then launch forward with a lunge aimed for the chest.

Secret :

You described rather well. I found it hard to match your description with one of my own, so I also found an image to use. The sweeping motion is something similar to this here, though with both hands still on the sword.

http://i901.photobucket.com/albums/ac216/Arillius/Anima_____no_11_by_Wen_M.jpg

He pretty much ducked, spun to the left and swung at the same time. Saying it like that though sounds boring.

[Stitch]

Stitch realized his mistake right as he threw the first blow. His muscles were too tight. He was shamed to admit it to himself, and shamed to admit he was this out of practice, but he made one of the most beginner of mistakes. Tightening the muscles before throwing a blow may seem good in theory, after all, you have your muscles flexed. If those nice muscles are bulging, showing off their amazing strength, then you would have quite a bit of power behind the punch. One would assume, at least. The muscles that you flexed on your own, those were originally designed to harden the muscle, to defend. You flex on point of impact to lessen the strength of the blow, to provide a barrier. If your muscles are locked up and tight, then how are you going to allow those muscles to flow into a powerful punch? The correct muscles that would add power to the punch would flex when the fist impacted the target, like the Gods had originally designed the muscles to do. Attacking muscles, defending muscles. Fast twitch, slow twitch. He had taught that lesson many a time.

And he had just made the mistake.

All of his movements felt sluggish as his palm hit empty air, the man wisely ducking under it. It had been close, very close, but close didn't matter. Hits and misses mattered. Realizing he had dedicated himself into a forward position, with that heavy step and his flexed muscles, he hurriedly tried to hop back. A small bit of panic overtook his mind as he, as if from a distance, saw Jaq tucking into a short turn and slashing out with his katana. Stitch was awkwardly able to hop back just a short step, but not before a good inch of the katana made solid connection with his stomach. A loud smacking sound signaled a solid blow, a point in Stitch's mind. He had hopped back, was on the defense, and realizing his opponent was quite skilled, he expected the advantage to be pressed.

It was indeed, and Jaq lunged forward, the sword tip stabbing at Stitch's chest. He was more prepared this time, he was much more prepared. He was mostly trained to defend, and defend he would do.

As the blow came at his chest, Stitch twisted at the waist, ducking and turning his back to his opponent. The stab would go over his left shoulder, and Stitch would snap both hands up, instantly grabbing at the wrist. Simply catching it and tugging, adding more momentum to the forward lunge, Stitch would rise a bit to catch Jaq's chest in his shoulder. It wasn't a blow, merely an obstacle that Jaq would suddenly be flung over. If he was caught in the throw, it would be a simple matter of Stitch catching his wrist, and flipping Jaq over his shoulder in a quick take down.

[Jaquise Emittere]

Jaq was surprised when the sweeping motion actually hit, apparently the man had overextended himself. Unfortunately Jaq's follow up proved to have a similar bad end for him. Stitch skillfully deflected the blade and caught him in a basic throw. Jaq immediately knew there was no use fighting the inevitable from years of experience in bar fights, so instead of attempting to resist the throw Jaq prepared himself for the fall. Instead of knocking the breath out of him the fall to the ground was limited to a physical pain. Without the stunning affect the loss of breath would have caused, the ground was a great deal softer then the table's Jaq was used to going through, he now had the opportunity to roll out of the way and to his feet before Stitch could press an attack of his own. His back still hurt, he would be feeling that more later on, but at least he was able to regain his feet. Sword once more pointed at Stitch, smile spread across his face, Jaq allowed himself a moment to breath. "Impressive good fellow Stitch. More is there to you then what your appearance suggests."

Moment over Jaq once more pressed forward, this time with a downward strike. It was one of the most basic attacks, one his father had him practice many times over. Raising the blade and bringing it down hard was all there was to it. With a true blade one could cut through a shoulder or arm, disabling or killing an opponent in one stroke. Rumors even spoke of those who could shatter enemies blades with this strike. Jaq was not nearly so skilled, but he smart enough to not throw all of his power or weight into the swing. He had overextended himself once, and should he miss a second time he would be able to recover quickly enough to swipe away any incoming blows. At least he hoped he would.