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Post by Young Grimwold on Jun 16, 2004 16:35:58 GMT
*Some time has passed. Most of the staff of the Crazed Heifer have drifted sheepishly back to the tavern, bringing tales (some exaggerated, some understated) of recent goings-on - of Visage, of Ringmasterrob, of Tom Troughton, and of the mysterious disappearances and reappearances of various folk. Owen Vartern the Tavern Owner is also told that changes are afoot at the Heifer's rival establishment, the Wolf's Howl Inn, and he realises that this is no time for his tavern to be sitting idle. The Wolfenden days are growing warmer, and the inhabitants thirstier.*
*The staff help Owen to straighten out the tavern; fresh supplies of food and drink are delivered. One of the serving wenches even manages to persuade a friend to serve as a piper, giving the place a more welcoming feel. Even the toilet facilities are improved! But there is still one thing - or rather, several things - missing: customers!*
*Owen struts to the door, most of his simultaneous hangovers having faded, ready to remind the townsfolk, in a gruff voice that carries halfway across the marketplace, that...*
OWEN: The Crazed Heifer is open for business!
*Several minutes pass; no customers appear. Owen sighs, and resigns himself to Plan B...*
OWEN: Buy two drinks... and your third is free!
*Owen and his staff wait to see who will arrive...*
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Skiprazor
New Settler
See Skiprazor's Character Profile for details of his adventures to date.
Posts: 82
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Post by Skiprazor on Jun 18, 2004 17:46:06 GMT
[*Having been on the trail from Dunnfalls for a considerable time, Skiprazor finds himself standing once again outside the ramshackle tavern that is The Crazed Heiffer. The sense of deja-vu washing over him is tangible even in his dazed state. With his initial cold reception at the inn days ago still strong in his mind, his presence here now feels truly like he is starting again, a sensation only augmented by his recent 'death' in what the locals are whispering about as the "Battle Royale".*] [*Despite his reservations, the need for food and refreshment - and especially a cold tankard of mead - drive him onwards down the hill and towards the inn. It is only when he stands but a few feet from the door that he notices a large, bullish man standing in the yard, shouting to attract passing trade - a commodity which certainly appears to be in short supply, judging by the silence beyond the tavern's rickety swinging doors. Only a lone pipe sounds chirpily as birdsong from within - no yells, no laughter, no terrible Orcish drinking songs, nothing. Skiprazor smiles briefly, realising that the lack of custom will allow him to refresh in relative peace, free from the questioning glances and suspicious mumblings normally so prevalent in such an establishment. He lifts his hood back from his head, and steps into the tavern.*] [*The door swings open, and the staff of The Crazed Heiffer turn their heads expectedly at the potential of custom. The figure in the doorway is tall, with the build of a thief rather than a warrior, but something about him suggests that he is well-accustomed to conflict - his closely-cropped hair, sharp features and oddly piercing, deep-blue gaze all lending the stranger an air of menace, if not exactly evil. He strides towards the bar, looking slightly pained, as if he has recently survived some terrible ordeal. And then he unexpectedly breaks into a huge smile, the jubilant greeting of a returning long-lost cousin. He continues to smile as he addresses the serving wench, his eyes gleaming as though he could read her soul.*] "The biggest tankard of mead you can provide, my fair lady - and if you have some provisions to soak up such fine ale, I would be eternally thankful!"
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jun 20, 2004 1:23:53 GMT
*The serving wench is a little intimidated as the customer strides over; she cannot quite meet his gaze. And yet, she is reassured by the rhythm of his voice - he is a man of power, but not of destruction. One to tip the balance in a tavern brawl, perhaps, but never one to start it. At least, that is the impression she gets.*
*Pleased to be dealing with a customer, she leads him to a table, and promises him service as he has requested. Soon, she is back with a brimming tankard of mead and fresh bread. As she serves the customer, she welcomes him to the Crazed Heifer, and asks politely for his name.*
[OOC: I've avoided naming this particular member of staff - Skiprazor, that is your privilege, if you wish!]
*Meanwhile, Owen remains in the doorway, hoping to beckon more people in.*
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Skiprazor
New Settler
See Skiprazor's Character Profile for details of his adventures to date.
Posts: 82
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Post by Skiprazor on Jun 20, 2004 13:20:39 GMT
[*The serving girl's seemingly innocuous question, so infrequently asked of Skiprazor, would normally be a great cause of discomfort for him, just as it was when Julia asked him back in The Wolf's Howl. That encounter now seems like an aeon ago. However, he is surprised at how readily the answer comes to his lips this time, perhaps given free reign by the adrenaline of combat which, even days after the fact, continues to flow through him.*] [*He is about to drink, but remembers his manners, and addresses the serving-girl, who continues to look at him quizzically.*] "Most people know me as Skiprazor. I'm quite new to these parts. Please feel free to call me by my real name if you like - it's Neil. As I said, I'm not from around here." [*He chuckles as if at a private joke, as is often the custom when he attempts to describe his origin. As he does so, the serving maid notices a barely-perceptible flicker of blue light spark between his irises. She blinks, and it has gone. Neil drinks deeply from the tankard of mead. It is cool and refreshing, much better than the last drink he had here, as is the bread, which tastes freshly baked. It is extremely satisfying.*] "Forgive me if I seem a little churlish, but you appear to be quite devoid of custom today, no?"
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jun 20, 2004 15:29:16 GMT
*The serving maid eyes Skiprazor, and decides that he isn't really that fat. (She doesn't quite know what 'churlish' means, bless her.) She was a little taken aback at the blue flicker in his eyes, but doesn't feel threatened. It certainly takes a magical disposition to enjoy the house mead as much as he is!*
GIRL: Hello to you! I think I'll call you Skiprazor, if you don't mind. It sounds more daring! 'I served a man called Skiprazor today!' Heehee! It's just that we had a fellow called Robin in a little while ago, who said he was a fighter. But with a name like Robin... oh well. I sure as heck ain't calling anyone 'Sir', given the option, like!
*She looks over to Owen, expecting a stern glance from him; but he is too busy trying to encourage new customers in, so she returns to chatting.*
GIRL: It is quiet in here, innit? We had a spot of bother with a rampaging mob, you see. You know how it is... Would you care for a top-up?
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Skiprazor
New Settler
See Skiprazor's Character Profile for details of his adventures to date.
Posts: 82
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Post by Skiprazor on Jun 21, 2004 17:02:55 GMT
[*Skiprazor smiles again, taking a detatched amusement in both her slight puzzlement at his words and her obvious enthusiasm for her job. It makes him think of his own 'job', and how he would have provided excellent service in the company of the aforementioned rampaging mob. Still, he has seen enough conflict in the past few days, even if it was illusionary, and there is certainly no need to let the bloodshed spill over into the land of Wolfenden.*]
"I'd enjoy a top-up, fair maid. I hope you don't mind if I just relax here awhile - I have travelled for many days, and am in serious need of refreshment!"
[*Something makes him stop for a second, his instincts willing him to ask further of this 'Robin' character. Skiprazor has a strong sense of pride, ego even, despite the nature of his design, and the humanity in him compells him to seek out rivals. He complies without question.*]
"A fighter, you say? 'Robin' is the name of nobility, not of conflict. What did you think of him? Did he look like a warrior to you?"
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Post by Leytan on Jun 21, 2004 23:40:01 GMT
[ModNote: Continued from A Bite To Eat.] * The Door again open and a Hooded Figure enterd. The serwng maid was sure the tempretur just droped a few degrees.* "Good Day to you sir. What can I get you." *The Figure looked at her, for the first time she saw his eyes. The piercing Blue reminded her of Edward Deal, but the other dull green one was that of an Atlantian.* "I'll have a Ale please Wench.* *The Girl was disturbed by the smile he gave her almost reptilian. Sh equickly went to fetch his drink. The figuer turned and went to Skiprazor's Table, he pulled out a seat and sat down across the table from him. He looked at him as if sizing him up.* "Helo Skiprazor. For unless I am very much mistaken that IS who you are. I've heard a great deal about you over the years."
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jun 21, 2004 23:44:01 GMT
[OOC: I've decided to name the current serving wench. It's a reference to something that has been preoccupying many people lately - if spelt backwards!]
SLEVELA: 'Weren't me who served Robin, Skiprazor - it was the new girl, Drassandre. She seemed quite taken with him. He seemed a bit nervous to me, but nice all the same. Tallish, dressed in green. Wouldn't say he was a warrior bred an' born; but I reckon he'd be a good swordsman if he had no choice. When the trouble broke out, he ran pretty fast, so who knows?'
*Slevela pauses at this point, to fetch more ale for Skiprazor.*
[OOC: This occurs before Leytan's post above.]
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Skiprazor
New Settler
See Skiprazor's Character Profile for details of his adventures to date.
Posts: 82
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Post by Skiprazor on Jun 23, 2004 17:52:20 GMT
[*Skiprazor looks across at the new arrival, and straight away recognises the detatched precision of a fellow mercenary. He hates referring to himself that way, for it implies a lack of beliefs, connotes that the only thing that matters in life is gold - but, when all the good intentions and survival instincts are stripped away, a mercenary is what he really is. He checks himself, not wishing to betray any sign of self-doubt.*]
[*The mystery man's eyes are as noticeable as his own as well, though where Skiprazor's glow an sapphire blue, one of his glints with emerald green. Skiprazor notices the deep slash of a mouth, the slightly angular features, and shimmering complexion, and detects the aura of someone not altogether human. It is already quite unique, and not wholly comforting, how much they already share in common. Even less comforting when this individual addresses him in such a way, as if holding the key to some deep-rooted mystery even he has locked within his past. Caution makes the hairs on his neck stiffen.*]
"If I were this man of which you speak, I'd wonder what had been said about me over the years...."
[*He leans forward, ostensibly in mere interest. As he does so, a glint of steel flashes at his belt, matched an instant later by the sappire flash of his irises.*]
"What, may I ask, have you heard?"
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jun 23, 2004 18:04:31 GMT
*Slevela returns briefly to the table, to deposit the new customer's ale. Again, she is tempted to ask his name, but at the same time, rather too unnerved by him.*
SLEVELA: I'll leave you both to it. If you wish for more food or drink, let me know.
*Slevela withdraws and pretends to be busy elsewhere in the room... but remains well within earshot.*
*Owen, meanwhile, is pleased to have attracted another drinker, and his hopes are increased of drawing in more. He remains at the door, calling out to passers-by.*
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Post by Leytan on Jun 23, 2004 18:15:41 GMT
*The figure smiled again, the reptilain smile.*
"That Skiprazor is one of the best fighters and mercenrys out there."
"Second only to one."
*Takes a sip of his ale.*
"I'm supprised and offended. I know who you are by reputation but you don't seem to know me."
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Skiprazor
New Settler
See Skiprazor's Character Profile for details of his adventures to date.
Posts: 82
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Post by Skiprazor on Jun 23, 2004 18:25:25 GMT
[*Skiprazor's eyes widen slightly at the sheer audacity of the man's tone, as if he were in the presence of some legendary warrior. Perhaps he is in such company - but if he is, he currently has no immediate reason to be fearful. It is also some comfort that the stories this man has heard have obviously been exaggerated somewhat. He smiles, and nods curtly.*]
"Forgive me, I mean no offence. I am very new to this realm, and in my short time here I have been somewhat... preoccupied. If you would care to enlighten me, I may save you further... 'surprises'."
[*He drinks deeply from his tankard, never taking his eyes off the man, waiting for a response.*]
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Post by Leytan on Jun 23, 2004 18:37:39 GMT
"Very well."
*The man lowes his hood. His jet black hair makes his face seem even more ominus.*
"My name is Leytan, and I am also a mercenry much like yourself."
"My reputation is such that I was under the impression that the great Skiprazor would have heard of me, as I have of him."
*Leans forward to take a sip of ale, and much like Skip ealrier he makes sure a flash of steal is seen.*
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Skiprazor
New Settler
See Skiprazor's Character Profile for details of his adventures to date.
Posts: 82
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Post by Skiprazor on Jun 24, 2004 17:12:12 GMT
[*Though he pretends not to notice, Skiprazor celarly detects a trace of hostility about this man. Maybe he is an assassin - though he has done little in ths realm to warrant such practices, unless of course Lord Fear had been dispatched from the Battle Royale and still bears a grudge. Maybe a thief then - though the man has the bearing of someone versed in combat as opposed to stealth. Perhaps this man was a bounty hunter, picking a fight with Skiprazor for the sake of fame and glory, for trophies and notoriety. But Skiprazor has already guessed that this man is probably all three, and more besides.*]
"As I've said, I am new here. Any ignorance on my part is merely due to my lack of knowledge, and not a slight on your reputation. You don't look like the average warrior to me. And forgive me if I note that you don't look like you belong here, either."
[*This is not a threat, merely a statement of fact. Nonethless, Skiprazor hesitates for a second, adding a certain gravity to his words.*]
"Please, take this opportunity to grant me the relevant knowledge, and I will endeavour to do you service in return."
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Post by Leytan on Jun 24, 2004 23:11:02 GMT
*Leytan leans back and smiles the sinister smile again.*
"Very well."
"As you have guessed I am not stricly of this relm I am from the relm of Atlantis."
"Although I am not pure Atlantian as can be seen from my eye's on Atlantian the other Human, or at least humanish."
"I am recently arrived in this relm myself haveing just escaped the deffet of my previuos employer the Dark Lord Scareye of The Netherwolds."
"I am now employed by a man called Charles Redmun."
"As for my skills as a warrior since the minnimum price for my services is useraly 5000 gld Piecies and my emploers, expet in special circumstances, perpared to pay that ammount. I think that speaks volumes loader then anything else abut my effectivness as a fighter."
"Your woundering why I delibretly came to this table arn't you?"
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