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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

A Quest!


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Iverron found the townspeople's fear of him unsettling. In his youth a lone armed traveller had been no cause for alarm. People would have assumed him a knight of the king or a wandering hero. He wouldn`t be a fool to anticipate offers of free food and lodging. But ever since he`d come to Kiart he`d gotten nothing but distrust from its people. They clearly didn`t want him in their nice little village, but they were afraid to ask him to leave.

 

He walked down the stairs into the common room of the inn he`d stayed at. ``Morning, sir. Will you be continuing your journey today?`` the morning tavernmaster said by way of introduction. Iverron sighed, it felt like a personal attack even though he knew it wasn`t.

 

``I will.`` Iverron could see the man`s relief. ``I have pressing business to attend to.``

 

*****

 

After years of hard work robbing travellers and manacing villagers Drouk was glad to see that a group of armed men obviously up to no good got the respect they deserved. He and his men had only been passing by Kiart and had no real designs on it. But as luck would have it his horse had thrown a shoe and they didn`t have the means to deal with it themselves, so they`d come to Kiart to have it reshoed. But Drouk`s horse was old and he hadn`t been taking particularly good care of it and it turned out the blacksmith owned a fine specimen of a horse.

 

Proper respect! No one hardly raised a fuss when Drouk explained how he was going to take the healthy horse and they could keep his old mare if they really wanted it.

 

``Fine, take it,`` the old blacksmith said, ``We don`t want any trouble here.``

 

``Haha, it`s a pleasure doing business with you, sir.`` Drouk tipped his hat.

 

``Yeah, you seem the trusty sort,`` Illim said, walking around the shop, ``I bet you do really good work, and as men of the road, we can always use shiny new weapons and things, you make anything like that?``

 

``No, we`re not soldiers here, I don`t make very many swords,`` the smith answered.

 

``Hrm, but a bet you do a really good business in plowshares, or whatever,`` Drouk prodded.

 

``Hey, yeah,`` Illim agreed as if the thought had only occurred to him just now. ``You must be able to spare a few coins for world-weary travellers such as we.``

 

The smith clenched his jaw and didn`t answer. Being robbed was one thing. Being made sport of somehow made it much worse.

 

``Well, you too greedy to lend us a hand or what?`` rumbled Yarl from outside. The big man hadn`t bothered dismounting for this whole ordeal, much to the irritation of his horse.

 

``We... we`re a small village off the main highways, we don`t have a lot of coin here.`` he managed to stammer.

 

``Don`t be so modest, friend!`` Illim grinned, ``I`m sure you`ve managed to put together some kind of savings here, and every little bit helps. Let`s have a look, shall we?``

 

Illim headed through the door into the smith`s home, adjacent to the smithy. ``C`mon Yarl!`` he called.

 

``Gil, go help blindy find smithy`s copper, will ya?`` Yarl rumbled in response.

 

Seconds later a smaller, younger man walked quickly into the smithy and followed Illim into the smith`s home. Several moments of awkward silence passed between Drouk and the smith. ``Gil`s got a quick eye... Illim doesn`t`` Drouk explained with shrug.

 

A few more moments of silence passed, interruped by the sounds of Gil and Illim looking through the smith`s home and something breaking.

 

``Oh, hey, this is really embarassing,`` Drouk suddenly said, ``here we must have been robbing you for ten minutes now and I haven`t even asked your name yet.``

 

Just then they heard a triumphant shout followed by, `No, see, the way this works is you hand that off to the boss.``

 

Drouk cut off the smith`s answer ``Oops, I suddenly don`t care anymore.``

 

Gil stepped back into the smithy, tossing a small coinpouch to Drouk. He caught it and looked inside. "Huh, hardly worth taking." he dumped the contents into a pouch on his belt anyway. "Once, again, pleasure doing business with you, sir."

 

Drouk, Illim, and Gil left the smithy, mounted their horses and started to canter them out of town.

 

"Hey, Hey! Wait!" someone shouted. The four of them reined their horses and turned around to see a boy, probably about fourteen years old, charging toward them waving a kitchen knife. "Got it," Yarl said.

 

"You can't just rob Mr. Iron like that! I'll-" Yarl walked his horse forward a step to take the boy off guard and make sure he didn't actually get a swing with his knife, then raised one foot to plant his heel in the boy's face. The boy toppled over backward and dropped his knife, blood pouring from his nose.

 

Drouk tsk'd and walked his horse up beside the prone boy, who was struggling to his feet and fumbling dazedly for his knife. His found it, looked up, and found the point of a sword inches from his face.

 

“And here I thought everyone in this town was so polite.” Drouk lamented, “but the children haven't been taught proper manners. Who are your parents, lad?”

 

“I'll never tell you!” The boy spat out some blood.

 

Drouk looked heavenward and sighed. “It isn't as if it's going to be particularly difficult to figure out. That would be them now, wouldn't it?” A man and a woman had come running from the same direction as the boy, but stopped when they saw the situation he had gotten himself into.

 

“Watch the boy, will you?” he asked no one in particular and trotted over to the boy's parents. “I think you've told your son a few too many stories for his own good.” he called out to them.

 

“Please, he idolizes Darren,” that must have been the smith, “we didn't mean for him to attack you, he's just a child...” the mother pleaded.

 

“You ought to have taught him there are no heroes.” Drouk told her, “thinking anything else is a good way to get killed.

 

“Children, they believe silly things,” she fumbled, “We'll, uh, we'll teach him, better, just don't hurt him.”

 

“Well, I'll tell you what.” Drell sounded conversational, “The boy's offended my delicate sensibilities, but instead of killing someone over it like a brute, we'll take him along with us, and I'll teach him better manners.” Both parents shook their heads and muttered something to the effect of “oh no.”

 

“Everybody wins.” Drouk smiled as if he meant it. “Your child properly learns the way of the world, and I'll make some cash, I'm sure. You can sell children off and make a few crowns if you know who to go to, you know.”

 

“Ayldon will never let you get away with this.” the father murmed.

 

It was obvious where the boy got his ridiculous ideals. ``Pardon?`` Drouk asked, sounding a little annoyed now.

 

``Ayldon, your king, will hear of this, and you`ll hang!`` he shouted back.

 

Drouk sneered, his voice turning nasty "Ayldon isn't my king, and if you were smart you'd say the same. How long ago did he call away the militia that's supposed to be protecting you from me, hrm? Even if he did care enough to send a party after me for your son's sake, what's protecting you right now? What's to stop me from killing you, taking your wife, killing your wife, and burning down your house for good measure? Certainly not your king! Ayldon has abandoned you."

 

"No he hasn't!" came an angry shout.

 

Covered in highly polished armor, and holding a bow knocked and drawn pointed straight at Drouk, Iverrron guided his horse forward with his knees until he felt he was at the ideal range.

 

"Four against one, then?" Drouk laughed and didn't let it sound forced.

 

"Four bandit scum against a knight of the king.” Iverron corrected.

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It had been three months since Sliver had taken time off from adventuring with the Seven to survey the land. Though they were not from Feraus, Sliver and his friends had made friends in the area. One such group of people were the citizens of Kiart. They had had a problem with wolves raiding the outlying farms, moreso than usual; the twins had taken care of that by leading the wolves back to the woods of Pela Shol, the elven homelands which were ripe with game to hunt that would mostly like last for generations.

 

It was early morning when he actually arrived in Kiart, as he had opted to go against convention and travel under starlight. Bandits didn't scare him, and he could deal well enough with bears and wolves on his own if need be. He brought his roan grey, Outlaw, into a leisurely trot as he approached the outer edge of the village. He would head to Goodvine Inn to see about some breakfast, and perhaps a bed for a quick rest. Then, he could speak with the villagers, perhaps spin a few yarns and offer his services to anyone who needed them. However, that opportunity presented itself rather quickly, as he noticed a few rough=looking characters hassling Master Iron, the wise blacksmith. Sighing, he turned his horse between the narrow space between a couple buildings and dismounted. Although he was a good rider, he was better on foot when it came to combat, even against mounted opponents. Quickly but with careful precision he strung his shortbow and nocked a pair of arrows. He overheard the tail end of conversation,"...against a knight of the king.”

 

So, one of Ayldon's men were here. That should even the odds. Though Sliver wasn't too found of Feraus' king, he knew the military prowess of his soldiers was that to be admired. It was said the king himself trained with his men, to emphasize the nation's military power, from the King down to the lowest officer. It was widely known that the Ferausian Knights were some of the fiercest warriors from the western coast to the eastern sands. Sliver smirked; he might actually enjoy this.

 

Clearing his throat loudly, the Ranger stepped out into the open and drew his bow up to his ear and shouted, "Not to mention a protector of the people and a guardian of the land. I suggest you surrender to this king's man, lest you be taken now by the earth and your souls left to embrace nothing but the burning embers of the nearest hell." There was almost a jovial tone to Sliver's threat. Sometimes he really did enjoy situations like these too much.

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Karinne, sent out on her Namkia felt the past few weeks had been nothing of the journey she was supposed to be having. Living off of the land and traveling into the land of the humans was all and well except she had hardly seen any humans. Her future ranking was based on the experiences she was having and so when she came across Kiart she decided to go in.

 

As the Feniks, Karinne’s people, tended to travel best by day she slipped into Kiart a few hours after the sun had risen. Having no real destination Karinne followed the path that served as the town’s main road. Nearing a building that smelled of the metalworkers of home she came upon a gathering of humans and though she had not yet learned the language she could see that something was happening. Staying in the shadows she watched and waited.

 

As Karinne settled down to watch she saw four men leave the building of the metalworker smell and ride down the street. Soon after a small boy ran after them waving what looked like a simple dagger. The boy confronted them men and one man kicked the boy in the face. Karinne, not sure on the customs stayed in place as three more adults came onto the scene. The two who arrived first appeared, by the looks on their faces, to care a great deal about the boy child while the third was dressed in something Karinne recognized; armor. The armored giant faced the four men while a second man approached. Now, Karinne was a quick learner and though she was not sure of the customs of humans, by these new human’s reactions she figured hitting children must not be good. With that thought Karinne leapt from her place in the shadows to join the fight. Her katana at the ready, she stood facing the four men on horseback.

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Lorias was cautiously pleased with his luck so far. Chance had placed him in Kiart, where he had found a bed free of insects at an otherwise unremarkable inn. That alone was cause for thanks after a fortnight of wandering, and he had said his morning prayer with enthusiasm. The day had continued to grow brighter when the innkeeper's wife had placed a sticky-roll the size of his head in front of him at the breakfast table. He had not had the opportunity to taste her cooking the night before, but it was bound to be good: the host-wife was near as wide as she was tall, and judging from the way her dress was straining, the roll was not the only thing the size of his head.

 

Casting his eyes towards the heavens and safely away from her bosom, Lorias murmured a blessing in the old tongue, beseeching a bounty from merciful gods on the lady's behalf. Words often had two meanings, and if the quickly-contrived chant also translated to ample fortune for an ample woman, could Lorias be blamed?

 

As if she knew what he was saying, the goodwife blushed and returned to the kitchen. Lorias watched her go. He would rather eat toadstools than sup at an inn with a skinny hostess, he thought, then turned his full attention to his breakfast. The roll was nearly gone when he heard raised voices from outside.

 

"...your king shall hear of this, and you'll hang!"

 

"Ayldon isn't my king..."

 

Licking the stickiness from his fingers, Lorias stepped out in time to see four men face a challenge from a knight in full armor. The bow in the man's hands stayed level as he manoeuvered the horse with his knees. His opponents were obviously bandits, wearing what looked to be good but mismatched bits of armor, rich cloaks and more jewelry than men of their station should be able to afford. This could be a good contest, Lorias thought. There would be a song here whether the knight lived or died. Somewhere deep in his mind, words and tunes began to fit themselves together but he shook off the nascent ballad and focused on the scene at hand. Too bad it couldn't be allowed to happen like that.

 

"Drouk," the biggest of the bandits said. He nudged the leader and pointed behind them.

 

Even as Lorias was considing what to do, another man appeared, also with a bow. Despite being on foot, he was well positioned and would be hard for the others to ride down before he could do a great deal of damage. And there was another...

 

Lorias held himself still as the presence he had sensed stepped out from the shadows and added a long sword of foreign design to the forces marshalled against the robbers. Oh, dear. In a minute, the whole town would be in arms and there would be blood. Dead bandits, certainly, and how many others, tripping over themselves in hopes of striking a blow? That boy would be ridden over and his parents were already in range of a naked sword.

 

This must end before it went any further. A shame, really, that he needed at least one of the bandits alive. His gaze travelled over the four, men with faces marked by the brutality of their lives. The leader, the giant of a man behind him, and a third, reaching cautiously for a dagger, they were beasts on two legs. The small one, though, there was something different about him. His armor was plain, yet the vest matched the bracers and his cloak was a serviceable brown. A gold ring on one hand and a bright scarf around his bicep were the only bits of color, the only trophies from his rides. The bandit's attention shifted here, then there, assessing the opposition, noting that he and his fellows were, in essence, surrounded.

 

Even as Lorias marked this one for saving, the man's eyes rolled up in his head and he fell from his horse. One of the robbers barked a laugh that sounded like a grunt of pain. "Damn that faintheart! Three against three, then."

 

"Damn Gil faintheart indeed," said a voice. The man had moved so quickly that none could have prevented it. The fall from the horse had become a roll and now he stood with his knife to the boy's throat. "We'll be going now. If you follow, we'll leave a trail of fingers to mark our path."

 

The bandit leader howled with laughter. "He means it," Drouk cried. "He gutted that little girl outside of Meren town because she touched his horse."

 

Lorias could hear the lie in that. The leader wasn't certain what the other might do and was covering with bravado. But even Gil didn't seem sure of what he would do next, and the boy's father was working himself into a rage even as his wife sagged against his shoulder. The time for waiting was over.

 

"You'll be dropping those weapons now," Drouk said, smirking. His own sword was still out and the other bandits filled their hands as well.

 

Lorias moved into the street, pulling a length of wood from beneath his robe. He twisted the mouthpiece on his flute sharply to the right, then raised it to his lips, pointing straight out in front of him. Covering all the holes, he blew a sharp blast. All heads turned in his direction.

 

"The boy is innocent," he began, "and protected by the gods. You hold no advantage here. Surrender to these men or it will go hard for you."

 

Drouk gaped in astonishment. Then he laughed. "Bring your gods then, monk, and I will fight them as well." He surveyed the scene. The knight and the ranger had lowered their bows but had not dropped them. More people were coming out of their homes or peering from the common room of the inn.

 

He spat. "Are you as sick of this place as I am, Illim? Yarl, take the whelp. Your horse won't notice the extra weight. Gil, mount up--" He turned to the smaller bandit.

 

Gil's face was pale and he was staring at his arm as if it no longer belonged to him. The dagger dropped from his hand. For the second time that day, Gil's eyes rolled back in his head, but this was no mummery. Free of the bandit's grasp, the boy stared at the fallen knife for a moment, then ran to his parents.

 

"You hold no advantage here," Lorias repeated. He paused. The couple had fled to the safety of the smithy with their child and the remaining townsfolk were well clear. This Drouk had denied the king in the presence of an ordained knight. A careful choice of words now, Lorias thought. "I implore you, drop your weapons. Blood need not be shed this day. Throw yourselves on the mercy of the crown." That should do it.

 

Steel glinted in sunlight and a horse screamed. The world was all shadows and motion, dust, the smell of blood and cries of rage and pain. Lorias drifted through it all like a spirit, unheeding, untouched. He made his way to where Gil lay and began a prayer over the fallen raider. His hands moved ritualistically over the outstretched form, the wide sleeve of his robe concealing nimble fingers as they retrieved a tiny dart from the man's arm. Gil would live, Lorias would see to that. As for the others...

 

He watched the battle until it was done. There would be no song. Not today.

Edited by Disco-neck Ted
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Darwin had been staying in Kiart for two days now and enjoyed it there; the humans didn't remember his race well enough to recognize him for what he was so they left him alone, although it was obvious that they felt uncomfortable around him and wanted him to leave. He didn't mind; his purpose in life was not making humans comfortable. What he did mind was that the town was already getting boring - there was nothing more to be learned here.

When he was about to leave his room and go for another walk around the town, he heard commotion on the street. Quickly he moved to the window, eager to see what was going on.

 

"Ayldon isn't my king..."

 

The Ashter watched with interest as the conversation carried on and more people added themselves. Apparently, those who favoured this king of humans were the stronger group here. One of them raised a stick to his lips and then produced a sharp sound in response to which one of the king-haters, the one who'd pretended to faint earlier, stiffened and fainted again. Perhaps he was faking again, perhaps not - Darwin kept watching that one to try and find out.

 

Unfortunately, however, he lost sight of the fainted human in the confusion that followed. While the humans were killing each other, Darwin decided to get a closer look at the result. Checking his cloak to make sure it hid as much of his body as possible, he started breathing more quietly and left his room and the inn, just in time to see the last blow being dealt ...

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OOC: Curse you Tam... looks like I'll take care of this riff-raff! But I'll leave it open ended, so MinimondoT can act. Feel free to drive Iverron to victory if you wish.

 

IC:

 

Things weren't looking so well for Drouk. With one of his men down, he had lost his advantage through numbers, as well as his leverage with the hostage. Himself and his two men, versus three men with swords and bows, and a woman, surprisingly. He snarled, "Yarl, Illim, we..." The larger of the bandits began to charge towards Iverron and Drouk shouted, "You fool!" The leader of the bandits was ready to call a retreat, but the damned giant of a man decided today was a good a day as any other for dying.

 

*

 

The mercy of Iverron and Sliver was surprisingly lacking. The knight quickly drew and fired and the large man tumbled from his horse, an arrow jutting out from his chest. Had he been smaller, Sliver would have been certain that the arrowhead would be protruding out the other side. He quickly fired as well, taking the one called Drouk in his sword arm. Maybe he'll surrender, that way. he thought idly as the leader dropped his sword. That left the third, called Illim.

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From any point of view it wasn't precisely clear what happened. Gil dropped his blade, then fell, eliminating the issue of a hostage from the confrontation, and then suddenly Yarl was charging Iverron. Faced with a fearsome opponent and an easy method of dispatching him, Iverron let his arrow fl.

 

The bow was heavy and the range was short and Yarl's light armor didn't make a suitable barrier. The arrow jolted Yarl in his saddle and pain and shock prevented him from regaining his balance. He fell and his horse stopped, confused and possibly elated by the sudden absence of its rider.

 

Having no one riding him down right that moment, Sliver felt he had a few more options and neatly placed an arrow in Drouk's right arm. The leader of the bandits managed to maintain his grip on his weapon, but his arm fell and hung at his side. He swung his new horse around to face Sliver but it was no war steed and couldn't be trusted to trample and opponent, so with only one good arm, he wasn't able to do much else.

 

In the chaos Illim had managed to draw and load a small crossbow and so he fired it at Iverron, intending to avenge his companion. Iverron however, had managed to get a clumsy grip on his shield and while it wasn't properly strapped across his arm, pulling it into a position between his body and the crossbow was enough to deflect the bolt.

 

Iverron charged Illim as he reloaded, starting just before the bolt actually struck his shield. The whole thing was actually rather graceless, his shield held in one hand, swinging slightly in the wind created by his charge, his sword not even drawn until he was almost there, and Gil nearly trampled. He got to Illim between his finishing reloading and raising the weapon to take aim again but checked his swing. A woman with a slightly curved sword had reached Illim an instant before him. She sliced up and across his side, cutting deep and immediately letting enough blood that the wound had to be a fatal one.

 

Drouk was left facing an archer who had probably hit him in the arm and not the chest on purpose, an armored knight now on-balance with a proper grip on his weapons, and a woman who'd just displayed the ability to cut nearly halfway through a man. He let his sword fall from his right hand, and tossed down the knife he`d drawn at some point that he held in his left.

 

He took in Sliver, Iverron, and Karinne, "None of you were supposed to be here." he accused.

 

((All party members gain 150 xp))

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((Ha ha ha... that's a joke, right?))

 

Sliver grinned sardonically as Drouk swept his eyes over the group of interlopers who had ruined his plans. "None of you were supposed to be here." he accused, scowling. His eyes were spewing hate and dismay mixed together. It was so strong, Sliver was sure he could taste it in the air. The bandit leader circled his horse once, looking for a way out. He was surrounded on all sides. He appeared to be ready to charge past Karinne; no doubt the gruff man thought her weak because he she was a woman. Sliver grinned again. He knew all too well not to underestimate any woman, regardless of size or stature.

 

"Perhaps we were not supposed to be here," Iverron interjected, "but neither are you. I will ask you but this one time to surrender, so that your life may not be totally wasted."

 

"Then what would become of me? Another fool rotting in a cage?" Drouk spat and continued, "No, I'd sooner have death."

 

Snarling, he charged at Karinne, obviously intending to trample her with his horse. The agile looking woman sidestepped quickly and made ready to slice at horse or rider, Sliver wasn't sure; regardless, he would have none of it. Quickly he nocked, drew and fired again in a smooth motion. This time though, he showed the bandit no mercy. His arrow flew home, impaling him through his unprotected neck. Blood sprayed and sputtered as Drouk tumbled forward off of his horse which whinnied and kicked. It was all a little more violent than he preferred, but it was a fitting end to a man such as this. Grimly, the ranger knelt and offered a slight prayer for the bloodshed. When fighting monsters, it was best to try to avoid becoming a monster yourself.

 

Sighing, Sliver stood up and slung his bow over his back. He scanned those had remained to take part in or view the carnage. In a voice loud enough to be heard by all, he said, "Well, I believe introductions would be in order, however I think it would be best for any of us who had business here to wrap it up. I think the people of Kiart would be pleased to take care of things in their own fashion, and moreso would prefer it if we left. I know of a place not far from here where we could set up and camp and talk over a meal, if anyone is interested." Sliver eyed everyone again. He thought about what Drouk had said. "None of you were supposed to be here." It was odd that this odd collection of travellers had all ended up in Kiart. He had learned some time ago that things always seemed to happen for one reason or another. The more coincidental they seemed, the more likely they were part of some intricate pattern, some greater destiny. Was this one of those times? Were the fates conspiring against these travelers?

 

Sliver already knew the answer would only come in time, and right now he wanted somethig to eat.

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OOC: Sorry for the delay. I have been out of contact with a computer for a while. For those writing, feel free to take Karinne along when I am not around and thank you Tam for your intervention. I don't have a lot of time now but I will be back later today!

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Interesting ... not only did the last of the king-hating humans prefer death to surrendering, but the one who killed him knelt down and ... asked for forgiveness? Darwin couldn't quite make out what he was mumbling. He'd have to ask about it, given a chance - it looked like an interesting ritual.

For now, however, he settled for joining the group in the street, offering a traditional greeting among his kind : bare hands raised with all four clawed, scaly fingers pointing towards himself as a sign of good intentions. They probably wouldn't know the details, but it was the most non-hostile gesture he knew. All he could do was hope that they'd at least recognize it as such or, failing that, that he'd cast faster than they attacked.

 

Trying to keep as much of his natural hiss out of his voice as he could, which wasn't very much, he spoke to the one that had taken charge.

 

"I believe the people here would be glad to see my back as well ... would you mind if I joined you?"

 

Quietly he waited, not lowering his hands before the other had spoken.

Edited by Venefyxatu
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  • 2 weeks later...

Kaito no Tsuki was bored. Not only had she not had a job in a while, but everyone in this small town avoided her, and she had no one to talk to. All in all, she really didn't blame the humans for avoiding her, for she was a strange sight to behold. Silver hair that reached to her waist, long pointed ears, dark blue eyes, and silvery feathered wings that reached the ground. She was dressed this particular day in leggings and short boots with black leather strips wrapped around them, a long sleeved white shirt that reached almost to her knees, two belts that held several small pouches and half gloves. Not to mention her crescent moon-shaped pendant around her neck, and her several earrings.

However, something interesting HAD just happened. She had observed from her perch on the top of the stables the fight that happened between the bandits and several other people. She heard what Sliver and Darwin said, and considered her options. She could leave here on her own, and try to find a job in the big city. After all, many people would pay a lot of money to have a professional thief steal something for them. Or, she could see if these people in front of her would be willing to take someone like her with them. She grinned, and snapped her fingers. Her bag appeared out of thin air and dropped onto her lap. She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, then stepped off the building. The second option it would be.

When she was about two feet from the ground, she spread her wings out, which slowed her descent, and she landed gracefully on her feet. She looked up, ignoring the shocked expressions on the faces of the others.

"Hello there," Kaito said, smiling. "I heard what you said, and I was wondering if you'd mind me coming along with you."

 

OOC: if you don't want me to join your quest, just refuse me, and I'll go on to the city to get me a different job :)

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Looking between what appeared to be a snake-man, and some sort of elven-looking woman with wings, Iverron cracked his knuckles as he thought. Then he shrugged and addressed them both. "I believe the journey I'm on will need as many hands that are willing to help. Regardless of who... or what... you are, you are both welcome to help. But we have spent too much time standing around in this village, so I suggest we depart now. If anyone has anything left in the village, I will be waiting on the road south of town..."

 

Sliver interrupted briefly, "Actually, I know of a good place to camp north, good sir knight."

 

Eyeing Sliver carefully, Iverron nodded, "Very well, north it is. Try to hurry so we can let these people get back to their lives." Surveying the village, he couldn't help but notice more than one pair of eyes looking at the group from behind a fence, or mostly closed curtains. These people would be safe, for now... but how long would they live in fear? This was something he would have to remedy in the future.

 

 

 

 

OOC: Looks like I'll take over Iverron's reigns for now. (Don't worry, I can do that.)

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As the outskirts of Kiart fell away behind them, Lorias walked with reins in one hand and a staff in the other. Ahead, the knight sat an enormous piebald charger and led a roan packhorse. Beside him, the ranger rode a spirited dun gelding that kicked up dust as it pranced and snorted, clearly ready to run. The two conversed in low tones or pointed to the occasional landmark. Leading his buttermilk-colored mare, the monk brooded openly. A bad habit to get into, showing emotion, yet he knew the pinch of his brow gave him a meditative look that others could mistake for serenity. If only his thoughts were as calm as his face.

 

An Ashter. He had supposed that race had vanished into myth, yet one travelled with them now. And that was not the biggest surprise. The winged one had watched events unfold from above the stable, yet he had not been aware of her presence until...

 

Until she had worked some kind of magic. From beneath his hood, Lorias moved his eyes slightly at the flash of silver hair as Kaito took a short flight past the riders ahead. He wondered if the village crone was less the charlatan than she had appeared. He might not have been the only one to note the quick ripple of forces. It was well done that Iverron had taken charge and then gotten them quickly away.

 

The iron-clad warrior had restored the smith's coins and horse and paid for the burials with the bandits' own funds. The rest of their goods he had confiscated in the name of the church to be redistributed to their former owners where possible, or to feed the poor when not.

 

Lorias grinned despite himself, remembering the look on the knight's face when the mayor, who doubled as the undertaker in Kiart, had asked how many days of mourning were to be paid for. The memory lightened his mood. Rousing himself, he called out to the riders ahead.

 

"Good knight," he said, "there is a low meadow to the West, ringed round with brush and bush. Not so favorable a place as the one our archer friend has mentioned, but safer."

 

The riders reined in their horses. Lorias moved forward and then paused for Karinne and Darwin to catch up. The Ashter had volunteered to lead Gil's horse with the bandit slung across the saddle, still unconscious.

 

The ranger looked as if he were about to say something, then thought better of it. Both riders had waited until all were in easy speaking range. Good.

 

"According to Sliver, the North holds high ground with good visibility," the knight said. He adjusted the scarf at his neck, then looked down and brushed absently at his belt. "Defensible," he continued. "To the South I know of a roofless stone cottage with a clear well. Also defensible. What leads you to favor the West?"

 

Sliver's eyes twinkled. "Our holy companion fears something. Perhaps an attack from the townspeople? They heard your declaration for the South and mine to the counter, so perhaps West is the wisest course of action if we wish to remain hidden."

 

Lorias nodded solemnly. "It is even so. Many heard our travel plans. And I believe a large contingent of raiders may be in the area."

 

"Sssurely they would not tell?" Darwin looked from one face to another. "The smith? The child? Do they not know gratitude for your ressscue?"

 

Kaita was looking into the distance in the direction of vanished Kiart. A half-smile played on her face. "Not willingly," she said. "But they would tell."

 

Odd, Lorias thought. Her features were almost human, but struck in fine lines and angles that marked her with an alien beauty. She had seemed almost happy at the idea that the townsfolk could be coerced. Or else she paid attention to something none of the others could see.

 

Sliver also looked at the winged one. If he had shown uncertainty anywhere, it would be in his dealings with Kaita, but she had accepted his offer to carry her bag with his own gear. Not your average tavern girl, Lorias thought, but a cat may look on a queen, so may a ranger dream.

 

"Hide?" Iverron pierced Lorias with his gaze. He snorted. "Not if they have trackers of any worth. Better to know they are coming and meet them with steel in hand than to be ridden down in our bedrolls.

 

Kaita seemed oblivious to the ranger's stare, yet her chin dropped a fraction when he broke off his attention and spoke to the monk. "Indeed," he said, "it would be difficult to disguise our passage."

 

"I think..." Lorias trailed off, looking at his hands. He rubbed a jade prayer-stone between his fingers and studied the men without appearing to do so. Iverron travelled in light armor and his saddle was chased with silver. Blue and gold ribbons had been twined in the charger's mane and tale. The ranger sat plain leather tack and wore a brown cloak over green tunic with faun-colored breeks. It was to him that Lorias finally looked when he continued. "Perhaps one who leaves no footprints could successfully confuse our back-trail?"

 

All eyes turned to the winged woman, even Karinne's. The ranger nodded thoughtfully. "That could work. To the West!"

 

((OOC: Woo-hoo! We've made it out of Kiart alive! If I've mishandled anyone's character, say something.))

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Kaito raised an eyebrow at Lorias's suggestion. She crossed her legs and assumed a postion as if she were sitting cross-legged with her arms folded across her chest, except for the fact that she was still hovering in mid-air, her wings flapping occasionaly to keep her off the ground.

"Just to make things clear, I am a thief by trade," she said, enjoying the slightly-shocked looks on everyone's faces. "I don't mind redirecting our pursuer's attentions, but how do I know that you won't leave me behind and continue without me?"

 

OOC: just thought you might want to know, Kaito isn't an Ashter. She's one of the Ancients in my story who will appear later.

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(OOC: Seems fine, Disco-neck Ted, although if you're implying what I think you are... Sliver is already besotted with someone, and tends to forget to realise that there are other females in the world... anyways...)

 

Sliver nodded briefly and dug into his coin pouch, "Well miss, right now we don't really have a reason to leave you behind." pulling out a few fat coins at random he adds, "But if you'd like a token of trust, perhaps some gold would do? Of course, I could simply go with you. I am fairly good at hiding my tracks as well, you know." The last part he said as he looked back at Lorias.

 

Iverron grunted briefly. "Surely the gold will not be necessary, ranger. Miss... Kaito, was it? I give you my solemn word of a Ferausian knight, under service of his royal magesty King Ayldon, that we shall not abandon you. We will wait at the point Lorias described, and not leave until you return." He nodded, as if that was satisfactory, then added, "Of course, having someone with a horse to make false tracks wouldn't be such a bad idea. That, and having someone who can watch over you in case you're spotted..."

Edited by The Big Pointy One
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The prayer-stone had felt cool and smooth under the travelling tips of his fingers, but now a faint dampness from Lorias' palms made the jade sticky and warm. Unpleasant.

 

Trust, the ranger had said, and offered the woman gold. But trust ran both ways. Could you pay a thief not to steal?

 

He might have enjoyed letting that question have its way with his thoughts for a time if not for the Knight pledging his honor (in the name of the king!) into the bargain. Something important remained unsaid when an officer of the crown forwent his duty to arrest a criminal and instead offered his aegis. One explanation presented itself, but Lorias suppressed the thought. Now was neither the time nor the place for such questions.

 

He shifted the staff from the crook of his left arm to his right shoulder and rubbed the bit of jade on his robe with both hands, drying them in the process. "Of course the skills of the rangers are known, Sliver. I meant no disrespect. And no doubt your horse is also talented at hiding its trail. Mine..." Lorias faltered. "She has no such skill, I'm afraid. And rumor has it that Huntsmen, and worse, run with the main force of the bandits."

 

The monk gestured at the pack animals and mounts, the steeds taken from Drouk and his thugs. A double handful in all. Behind them stretched an avenue of hoofprints, broken or nibbled plants, and more than one mound of fresh droppings; a glaring trail leading straight from Kiart. He looked from the ranger to the thief and back. "Guide us in this matter as you see best."

 

 

((OOC: Darwin is the Ashter I was referring to, not Kaito. The snake man surprises and interests Lorias as much as the Ancient does.

 

As for Sliver, I was only suggesting that he finds the winged woman fascinating, which can happen even to smitten people. His profile says he "goes absolutely crazy around females", and crazier still around Roxxia (as opposed to being singlemindedly oblivious), so merely staring seems quite subdued, methinks, and was in no way intended as a breach of faith between him and his besottedness beloved. ;)))

Edited by Disco-neck Ted
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  • 4 weeks later...

Kaito shrugged and said, "I can do it on my own. I've simply met several people in the past who aren't so trustworthy. Go ahead to the meeting place. I have my own way of making tracks."

She tossed the reins of the horse to Lorias and took off, flying straight up almost out of sight, before flying back the way they had come. the rest of the party watched her for a moment before proceeding.

Edited by Sora Hikari
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  • 1 month later...

sorry if this is unexpected, but the ninja infestation at the Pen is dying down, and I thought this would be an interesting thread to add to. If you don't really want me to add to this, just PM me. :)

 

A pair of gray-haired female twins walked along the road, holding hands. They were both wearing a white tunic over black leggings, boots, and had a string of prayer beads around one wrist. The one with longer hair was holding a crystal ball, and they both were gazing at it with green eyes.

They looked up as a group of people on horses stopped by them. A knight, a ranger, a monk, an Ashter, and a woman with a long sword.

"Are you Iverron?" the short-haired girl asked.

The knight nodded. The twins smiled happily, and chorused together, "good! Kaname told us that we needed to come and help you."

 

OOC: I hope I didn't forget anybody in my telling who was in the party.

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Kaito stopped flying abruptly as she realized that a large group of people, on horseback, with sharp pointy weapons, following the trail that she hadn't been able to get rid of yet.

She swore softly under her breath as she counted about twenty of them. Maybe the others would be able to handle themselves against that many, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"Damn all the bad luck in the world I've been having lately," she thought as she turned and took off for the others. It would not be good for them to fight in the middle of the public road.

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