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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 10, 2006 11:10:14 GMT -5
Antezra...how in the nine hells did you wind up here? It's the logical place to go really. Anybody looking to strike out on their own and seek a life of adventure or glory always winds up here. It's just awkward...like explaining to a more experienced lover that this is your first time. In the end you get what you want; it's just that first, embarassing admission that makes it difficult.
Though two paths lead into Antezra, there's really only one road out if you're looking to make a little coin in the process: The road from Antezra to Lethtar. The noble family in charge of Antezra, the Tristans, have a close working-relationship with the Pretens of Lethtar. Nearly all of Antezra's exports wind up in Lethtar. Leave it to the nobles to take the longer journey just to insure another particular noble gets first crack at the goods. The longer journey through empty lands has produced a rather unpleasant dilemma: bandits.
The reason the more daring individuals come to Antezra is to simply become caravan guards. More than one wealthy mercenary, knight or MageMaster has gotten his start here in Antezra playing the part of a guard. Why not you...right?
King Rosman had added the troublesome road to his agenda some time ago. But with tensions rising amongst some of the nobles further south, he'd been distracted for a few years. It was up to the freelance adventuring sort to step in and take care of it. Now the supply of freelance guards far surpassed the demand. With the roads becoming a bit tamer and local merchants arranging shipments to leave at the same time, full-time guards were willing to be and generally were kept on staff...and at a cheaper price than the freelance men were willing to work for.
The more experienced men who'd, according to their stories, been fighting off deadlier bandits with greater frequency when you were barely able to lift a sword refer to the current travels from Antezra to Lethtar "milk runs." With fewer than one in ten caravans being attacked, the exprienced sort view caravan guarding as not being worth their time. And for the inexprienced sort, being around the experienced sort can be rather intimidating.
But still...you're here. And that's the first step, isn't it?
The Do Drop Inn is a little slow this evening. The Inn that usually sees about sixty individuals about in the tavern at this time is only at half capacity. No offers of work have come about in nearly three days. Dull doesn't even begin to describe. But now...things are getting interesting.
For the past three days you've been eyeing the competition. They look like mercenaries...mercenaries with some decent wealth at that, judging by their equipment. The leader, a human man dressed in a rather nice suit of red full plate armor with two red gemstones on either shoulder, is the only one who's been in with any consistency. You're sure he's got at least three others with him...a human woman for sure and possibly two others from the shorter races. For now though...you're attention is focused on their boss, currently involved in a heated argument with a decadently dressed human woman.
"I don't care what we said, lady. You don't have jurisdiction here, got it. If you aren't gonna pay us right, we aren't gonna do it," he said in a near yelling tone that drew the attention of nearly every person in the Inn.
"Twenty gold per guard is more than fair for..."
"At twenty gold a day it isn't worth our time," He cut her off.
"I'm sorry, but the shipment itself isn't worth that much, sir."
"Then get out of here. Good luck finding someone else to guard your worthless shipment...gutter wench," he added for good measure.
Much to the man's dismay, the woman reared back her hand and slapped clean across the face. Only now it has become obvious to you that he hasn't taken very kindly to this as he reaches for his sword.
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Post by delkar on Jan 10, 2006 13:48:10 GMT -5
Figuring the agrument would stop if he simply ignored it, Arelian chanced a look at the situation and saw that it was ready to escalate...possibly to a bloody conflict.
Bloodly conflicts were something he wanted to avoid...espectially in a rowdy tavern of half drunk men.
He quickly moved into action, moving up beside the woman and grabbing her by the arm.
"How many times did I tell you? A shipment for them should be here inside a tenday! Why on bloody earth do we want to send out our best guards on a 'milk run'?! Get some of the other guards to do it or by the gods, I'll take it myself if I have to! Get out of here, I want to talk to you in the back room!" Arelian finished pushing the woman towards a backroom silencing any of her outbursts then turns back to the leader.
"My apologies good sir...she never listens. I swear if she didn't...well no matter now. There is no need for any trouble. I assure you that I will take care of her and make sure she never speaks that way again to you. As a sign of my apology, please help yourself to anything you wish from the bar they will place it on my tab."
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Post by silentblade on Jan 10, 2006 13:56:16 GMT -5
A cooper skinned elf sits quietly in the corner sipping on a large tankard of blonde ale. He looks about the tavern nervously as though he has not spent much time out of the cover of a forest.
He wears simple clothes of natural colors, greens and browns mostly, his leather armor dyed in similar hues. Beneath his table lays a large pack stuffed to the brim and a sheathed greatsword that, by the looks of the elf, he could barely lift.
His hands went quickly to the twin short swords on his hips as the mercenary went for steal. He began to speak but quickly relaxed as another man stepped into the confronation.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 10, 2006 14:31:51 GMT -5
The woman is very obviously displeased by Arelian's interruption and doesn't seem to have any remote concept of how close she just came to being a pin cushion for the bastard sword hanging at the man's side.
"Take this gutter wench out of here before I decide to spare the world from her shrill voice by slitting her throat." With that the gruff mercenary turns around and walks toward the human woman in his employ.
As Kesson relaxes a bit, he meets the gaze of another Elf seated kiddy corner from him. With the Elf's left hand, Kesson catches the brief glimmer of a small blade being sheathed. The index finger of his right hand, still sitting calmly atop the table, begins to wag from side to side, as if the Elf were silently saying "bad idea, friend." The elf then goes about taking another sip of his ale and looks away.
The woman fights Arelian a bit as he tries calmly to get her to a more secluded part of the inn. The entire time she screams insults at the other man, referencing him as a "ruffian" and "scoundrel trash." With a loud tavern and a wall safely between them, she turns her fury toward Arelian.
"And you, you worthless twit. What right have you to speak on my behalf. I am of noble blood and answer to no one. And not only that, twit, but you've managed to make a fool of yourself in front of real men like Highbringer. He knows I have no other guards to send on this errand. And he knows that he's the best. The only reason he allowed you to walk away is because he knew that you were lying on my behalf and that makes me look pathetic! He also knows that there will be no other shipment. I am a Preten, sir. When I return with my family and this shipment my business will be through here. I have no idea how the Tristans put up with this. And I will soon ask them to see to your interference as well. Pray to the gods I find my time to be too busy to request such a favor! Now...if you'll excuse me I have to go demand that Highbringer and his men guard my caravan for the original price," she finishes with a facial expression that translated to a comical "Hmph."
She turns around and heads back to the tavern.
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Post by silentblade on Jan 10, 2006 15:02:25 GMT -5
Kesson allows his gaze to linger on the elf across the room and even dares a smirk in his direction. He relaxes a bit once the woman is escorted away.
When she storms back into the room he only shakes his head and takes a long sip of his ale.
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Post by delkar on Jan 10, 2006 15:46:36 GMT -5
Muttering under his breath..."The gods be damned...I should of let him wear her ass as a hat...prissy nobles..." Arelian seeing his chance fading quickly mentions before she gets too far out of the room
"I'll guard the caravan for the twenty pieces you've offered, and I'm sure there there are other capable people that would agree to such terms. Highbringer will demand double what he asked before, I was merely attempting to prevent you becoming a pincushion."
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 10, 2006 15:58:52 GMT -5
At this she turns to look at Arelian once more. Eyeing the man up and down, she responds with, "You think that you somehow saved me. Absurdity!"
She turns back around and faces the room. After a brief moment she turns back to Arelian.
"Fine. I pay five gold per day per man for their services. You'd better be able to provide me with capable men...trustworthy too. Any who fail to carry out their services will be brought up on charges of violating an agreement with the Pretens of Lethtar. And if you fail to show up tomorrow with the men you've promised, you'll find yourself brought up on the same charges here. You will be escorting myself and my husband and daughter to Lethtar in addition to our shipment of silk we've recently acquired. Assuming that all of our goods and passengers arrive in Lethtar, you will be paid in full there. The journey is usually a two-day ride, but with the wagon it will require four. Four days at five gold per day is twenty gold per man. I was hoping to get Highbringer...he claimed to have five or six in his employ capable of escorting us. I will settle for you and three others. We are staying with the Tristans at their western estate. We will have everything ready to go at sunrise and will lend horses to those who need them for the duration of the journey. I do however expect to have them returned to me in perfect condition. Be there with your men..."
As she starts to walk away, she looks back over her shoulder. "Oh...and you will be working for half what the others work for as punishment for your interruption. Your name please?"
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 10, 2006 16:31:27 GMT -5
Near the back of the inn sitting in a large ladder-style chair, designed to allow gnomes and humans to use the same tables is a dark cloaked figure. He is small, anyone could tell that simply by looking at him, even in his boosted seat. Laying on the table in front of him is a single sheet of paper, an inkpen and vial lay near by as he stares at a flower in a vase.
As the noise raises it draws him out of his perplexities a less than happy look twist the gnome's features visible even with the cloak's hood pulled up. The look quickly changes from one of displeasure to interest at the thought he might witness a murder. Murder was interesting, as a life force was simply snuffed out right in front of him... his fingers reach for the inkpen and he jots down several words, his eyes never leaving the fighting pair.
Then suddenly the situation was diffused by a human who ushered the young woman into a back room leaving the well dressed mercenary standing alone near the table. Pity.
Jervis then spoke several words softly to himself and stretched out his finger to the flower. Before his very eyes the flower wilts and dies the peddles littering the table, before he once more scribbles some notes.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 10, 2006 16:52:26 GMT -5
Kesson and Jervis both watch as the decadently dressed woman leaves the inn in a huff. The red-clad mercenary she'd been having the altercation with earlier merely eyes her with a smirk until she's gone, while his female companion stares in the direction of the man who'd interrupted their conversation with a bit of disdain on her face.
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Post by delkar on Jan 10, 2006 18:06:32 GMT -5
((He will reply to the name of "Jack" when asked))
Arelian returns and sits down at the table, boots propped up on a chair contemplating his situation. He considered for a breif moment of arranging an accident for the woman and her family, but somewhat begrudingly decided it was a rash plan.
He would tolerate her for now he decided though "next time" he thought..."I'll leave her to her own ends..."
"Prissy nobles...still...a job is a job..." He said at the end, and began looking around the inn for potential cantidates...
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 12:34:03 GMT -5
After looking around the bar Arelian's eyes come to rest on the elf in the corner. Some what intrigued by what he saw he got up and walked over to the table. "Some days it would of been better to stay bed, don't you think?" He said gesturing to the event that just transpired. "Anyhow..." He said taking a chair and leaning forward slightly. "I hear you...like many others here are looking for work..." ((So there is no confusion it is you silent that he is talking to. ))
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Post by silentblade on Jan 11, 2006 13:02:45 GMT -5
Kesson looks up at the man speaking and nods slightly, "Aye indeed." speaking in common. He looks the man up and down and mutters something in elven. "I have come looking for work, but I doubt you have heard that, I have only just arrived and not spoken to anyone." he glances over at the elf accross the room.
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Post by delkar on Jan 11, 2006 13:14:06 GMT -5
"Ah...that maybe so...but the fact that you've come to Antezra tells me you have come for work...why else would anyone be here? The scenery? I think not..." Said Arelian waving the matter away with a hand.
"We are to leave tommorow...escorting the...creature...you saw and her family along with some other belongings. The rate is five pieces a day paid on arrival to Lethtar, the journey should take four about days assuming the weather holds up." Arelian finished. "What do you say...?"
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 11, 2006 13:18:49 GMT -5
"I'm telling you," said the man two tables away in an angered voice, "he did that to the flower. He just pointed his hand and...poof...it was all black and dead."
"So what if he did? All them Gnomes has got a little magic in 'em. It don't mean he's one of the Mages. We ain't seen one 'round here in over a year," said his friend who'd originally been sitting with his back to the Gnome halfway across the room, but was now in a chair with a better view of the smaller denizen.
"So...don't mean they don't come back. And it ain't like you can always tell 'em from other folks. Sometimes they look just like you an' me."
"You're thinkin' of a sorcerer. They're even rarer...and more dangerous. Ain't had no training at all. If he was a Mage, he'd be wearin' one of them things with weird pictures around his neck or somethin'. Lay off of the ale."
The argument continued from there, interrupted only when it came time to order more drinks.
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Post by silentblade on Jan 11, 2006 14:23:18 GMT -5
Kesson shrugs and then nods, "I will join you, after all it is why I am here, Do you know what the shipment is?" the elf listens to the pair talking about the gnome while he awaits an answer.
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