Author: Saria, Posted: Tue Jul 16, 2019 11:15 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

It seemed the book and the hurried manner in which she’d risen hadn’t caused much alarm on Jack’s part, as he simply replied to inform her that he could also read and joke that she should share the book with him at some point. For a brief second, the text had a faint glow while he spoke, but it subsided quickly as they started to prepare to trek out to the ship. Querin would be taking them to the next destination where Rixxan might be, so she packed quickly and full of excitement that their journey might come to a close so soon. Jack joked about the amount of clothing she had, and she exhaled heavily at the reminder of that whirlwind adventure through that crazy woman’s shop, and suggested she get some sort of weapon to protect herself with. She noted that he must not have caught onto her hidden blade yet, as he handed her a small dagger that was worn like a necklace. She thanked him and put it on hastily. It sat in a weird place amidst her bosom, but she was happy to have another form of protection that might be easier to use. Plus, she’d rather have something up her sleeve (literally) in case of a real emergency.
Jack left to talk to the men and Saria began to pack the rest of her things up, which was really just putting her book into the satchel and starting to drag her oversized luggage down toward the stairs. The process itself took about half an hour and at that point, she gave up and just kicked the bag off the stairs. The risk of accidentally slaughtering someone under its weight as it tumbled dangerously down a flight of stairs was real, but it was a risk she was willing to take. Saria met up with the rest of the crew and Jack paid the innkeeper for something to do with her room. She remembered the dead body that was probably staining the floor in her room and leaving it permanently reeking of death, and nodded to herself as that was probably a good reason to pay people extra.
The room itself was not exactly what she’d thought… Querin must have been extremely sarcastic and also must not have understood that some sort of inflection is typically expected with sarcasm, as when Jack opened the door to the cabin they were supposed to share, it was clearly not a room made to fit even the closest of friends. Saria grimaced, but Jack said he would take the floor, and though she felt a bit poorly about that, it was fine with her. For a moment she wondered if the bunk would be even more comfortable than the floor, or if she was perhaps getting the short end of the stick without knowing it. Either way, she followed Jack into the room. There was just enough room for them to not knock into each other constantly as long as they paid attention, but either way, she was grateful that she wouldn’t be sleeping in a cabin alone on a ship full of untrustworthy seamen and veterans. They dropped their things before Jack made a comment on reading, which left Saria stifling a nervous laugh at the thought of Jack borrowing a book, as she only had one and he likely wouldn’t be able to read it considering it was written in some ancient magical language that she herself was still deciphering. Jack suggested they grab something to snack on, as the ship creaked in the telltale way to indicate they’d set sail. Saria could already feel her stomach becoming upset, but nevertheless followed Jack down to the galley.
The next two days passed without much excitement. Jack tried to educate her on some things to do with ships and all the like, but she wasn’t terribly interested. Out of respect, she feigned an interest and did truly try to pay attention, but the occasional tossing of the ocean was enough to keep her focused on not heaving. When the sun rose on the third day, Saria somehow woke up earlier than Jack… Possibly because she was in dire need of getting to the side of the ship to vomit, as the ship must have hit a bit of choppy water while they slept. She snuck past Jack without waking him, hoping she could also sneak back in the same way, and closed the door quietly. Though it was still early morning, there were still plenty of deckhands working and moving about the ship. She grasped at her stomach and felt the heat of sickness spread throughout her body as she trotted toward the side of the deck near a few cargo crates and barrels, so that she might retch secretly.
After a few minutes, of which Saria was sure actually measured closer to all of eternity, she finally picked her head up and groaned, her stomach entirely emptied onto the crashing waves breaking up against the hull. A few of the deckhands cast her disappointed looks, so she avoided eye contact and snuck down to the galley to get some water and half a piece of bread. A few people from Jack’s crew were down there already imbibing, so she nodded to the ones she recognized, slugged down some water and grabbed bread from the cooking area, then headed back up toward the cabin. She could hear shuffling from inside the cabin when she got to the door, and cursed lightly under her breath. She pushed the door open while whispering, “Hey, it’s me, sorry, I wasn’t feeling well…” so Jack would know it was her. She stepped in and closed the door behind her, then turned around quickly to a noise that was either a bull crashing through the sidewall of the cabin, or Jack partially falling over. “Ahck, Jack are you—–” Saria started to ask if he was okay, but was caught off guard by the fact that Jack was apparently not decent. Saria’s face turned bright and rosy as she clutched at her heart out of shock. “I um… I’m…” She covered her face and turned around, “I’m so sorry… I didn’t even… I should have knocked… Oh my gosh… I’m so incredibly sorry…"

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2019 10:09 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

“Nothing to worry about, lass. I just did what needed doing. Man was a rapist, or near enough, and that sort of thing isn’t accepted, even without the army to tell us so. Man that does that, he gets what’s coming to him,” he said guardedly. He was surprised by her excited words, but he was not about to complain about the hug that came with them. “And I’ll be sure and save that favor for something serious, lass, and so I will.” He nodded toward the book wedged at the side of the bed as he started packing his belongings for the voyage that day to the pirate city. “Didn’t know you could read, lass. You’ll have to share it with me sometime. I haven’t read anything new since Mamlak, so I haven’t, and even then, it was absolute shite. Don’t tell the lads, but I read for more than work.” He laughed, thinking what the other men would say if they thought he was reading for the joy of it. But it had always been his escape, whenever he could get his hands on something that drew him out of himself. Shaking his head, he made sure all his heavy arms and armor were secured in leather to repel any sort of weather they might face on their voyage.


“You know you have enough clothing to dress an entire company for a week without them having to wear the same thing twice, by the weight of it,” he laughed, moving on to help secure her clothes as well. “Though if I were you, I’d get a blade, something…” he smiled and took a small dagger he had purchased in the market that morning out of his tunic. It was Highland work, not the most refined, but the steel was excellent. It was barely five inches long, equally split between hilt and blade, held in a leather sheath on a leather thong. “Something like this.” He handed it to her and smiled crookedly. “Got it for you this morning. Good steel they made up here, it’ll stay sharp even if you aren’t sharpening it every day. I won’t be with you every second like I’d want to be, after last night, so I want to make sure you’re safe, lass.” He handed her the dagger. “You wear it around your neck, see, front or back, whatever suits, and that means you’ll be having something at hand no matter what. Don’t want to leave you vulnerable, you know?” He shifted his foot a little, smiled again, and went back to his work with the bundles. “Meet me down in the main room when you’re ready. Us, I mean. Meet us down there. I have to talk to the lads anyhow.”


Jack took both of their bundles down to the taproom where the rest of the men were assembled, looking quizzically at each other. Most had seen the shattered door and the body of their former comrade gutted on the floor. When jack threw both his bag and Saria’s on the floor next to their table, one of the men stood up and was about to speak before a harsh look from Jack cut him off as he drew in breath. “The rapist up there decided that it was smart to try and fuck our patroness without her permission. Not only is that morally reprehensible, even for us, it’s bad fucking business. So now there’s new rules here and anyone that don’t like them can leave with what you’ve been paid and we can meet again back in the south with no hard feelings. One: Rape will not be tolerated. Two: No getting drunk without my permission before a fight. Three: Never steal from your comrades, only from the enemy. And four: Fight like the professionals you are when it’s time to fight. Are we clear?” Jack stood uneasily with his hands on the hilts of his saber and dagger, wondering if he had overstepped. The men were silent for a few seconds and then nodded their approval. Even with men like his, hardened killers that were bent on a rebellion against a sitting monarch, there were rules and they accepted his. “Good. Let’s finish this food and get to the quay. We have to get sailing before the tide ebbs near midday.”


Saria arrived a few minutes later and Jack waved the innkeeper over. “There’s some mess in the lady’s room that needs to be cleaned up. Here,” he pushed a large purse over to the man, “this should cover the cleaning fees and the like.” The innkeeper, already appraised to the situation, nodded and slipped the purse into his apron.


“That will cover it for sure, Mister Kerr. Have a safe voyage. The hostler has your horses already about your ship. I look forward to seeing you again when you return.”


Jack nodded sharply and took one of the loaves that was untouched and pushed it into his bag for the voyage in case Saria was ill at sea. “Thank you. We’ll be on our way.” He stood and motioned for the rest of the men to follow as he left the inn and headed down to the docks where Querin’s ship was waiting for them. There were still bales of goods being hoisted onto the deck so the ship’s master was on the dock supervising the process. “Master Querin, the men I told you about are here. Can we get aboard?”


“Aye, up the gangplank and into the hold. Your lass can have the cabin in the stern by mine.”


Jack nodded and motioned for the men to head up and make themselves at home on the ship. “So Master Querin, how big is that cabin? Because last night, someone tried… well, I had to kill a man to protect my patroness here and I would rather be close in case it’s needed again.”


Querin smirked. “It’s big enough for the two of you, but it will be tight quarters. I’m sure you won’t mind.” One of the winches that was loading cargo jerked suddenly and Querin forgot all about Jack and Saria as he began to roundly abuse the man that had lost his grip on the rope.


Jack ushered Saria up the gangplank and over to the cabin next to Querin’s, cursing as he pushed open the door and saw the size of the space. There was a single proper bunk and a small folding table with a lantern hanging from the bulkhead and about enough space to turn around without hitting the bulkhead walls. “Well, the bunk is yours,” he said and tossed her belongings onto it. “I’ll be here at the door,” he continued, putting his bag against the bulkhead so it could serve as some sort of pillow. “This way, they have to come over me to get to you. Keep you safe and all.” He smiled a little and then sighed through his nose. “I’m always a nervous sailor, so if I seem a bit jumpy, it’s nothing that should worry you. Maybe I could borrow a book, if you’ll keep it a secret?”

Author: Saria, Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2019 2:58 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

For a brief second, the attacker’s hold on her let up as his attention turned to the doorway. It sounded like Jack was in the door? He seemed to be trying to reason with her attacker to not continue on with his assault, but the man continued to hold her down. The two grumbled back and forth, Jack urging the man to be rational and the man saying some words which were enough to make one scream… that is, if she weren’t already screaming. His hold tightened on her as her skirts were lifted.
For a second, Saria’s mind vacated the moment, perhaps to save her from the impending fate that seemed inevitable. She flashed back to her time in Aelle’s hold, maybe two months ago, when any time she didn’t spend with Aelle she had ended up spending hiding from that dog, Leofric. His smug grin was more than just sinister, it was as if she were looking into the face of some demonic creature whose sole purpose was to bring her suffering and pain. She remembered all of the times she’d have to duck into a crevice or sprint to the main hall to avoid his advances, all of the times he’d actually caught up to her and tried to violate her, all of the times Aelle had randomly (and unknowingly) come to her rescue. Hopefully Aelle was doing well and recovered from his illness, but hopefully he was not doing well enough to send his crew looking for her…
Saria snapped back to reality as a heavy weight bore down upon her, and Jack telling her to shut her eyes. She did so, until the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor forced her to open her eyes from fear. Jack handed her a purse (of what was most likely her own coin) from the attacker’s belt, which she accepted with shaking hands and teary eyes. She exhaled deeply and straightened up. Jack directed her to get her things and started to try to help her put her things together, but she rushed over to the satchel with her book and made sure she was the one carrying it to his room. She didn’t want to risk any sort of issue given its strange nature.Besides, she had little intention of carrying that hulking monstrosity of clothes, so he could carry that for her and she wouldn’t argue about it. Anytime she picked it up she nearly toppled over, so it was probably for the best.
Once they moved all of her things out of the room with the dead body, Saria stashed her satchel and book under the side of the bed by the sideboard, as the adrenaline in her veins finally stopped pumping, and she suddenly felt exhaustion catch up to her. Jack remarked about having been in the right place at the right time and asked if she was okay. Her back was still turned to him when he asked, so she tried her best to suck back the tears as her emotions overcame the anxiety and fear of the moment and she nodded, silently, biting her lip and exhaling sharply.
“Yeah, I guess… I guess I am alright…” She clenched her fists and tried again to fight the tears back, to no avail, as they rolled down her cheeks. She tossed her head slightly and tried to take a short breath to quell the emotions, but it ended up having the opposite effect. As she turned, her teeth chattered from nerves and her voice broke. “It’s… It’s as if every nightmare I escape leads me to a new, worse nightmare…” Her last words were nearly gibberish as she devolved into a sobbing heap. She draped herself onto him in some sort of dilapidated, exhausted embrace as she heaved and cried. Within minutes, she cried herself into a deep slumber from all of the stressful events of that day.
Saria awoke to the light of the late morning sun slipping in through the cracks of the closed blinds. Jack must have carried her to the bed after she’d fallen asleep, as she found herself neatly tucked in under the blankets. Her eyes still stung and her throat was tight, but she presumed those were just the after symptoms of the horrible thing that had almost happened yesterday.
Jack had been so kind as to leave some food on the bedside stand for her; he must have known she would sleep through breakfast. Saria took a sip of water and for once, ate a handful of food, before she became anxious about her book. Luckily, it had remained tucked against the side of the bed where she left it originally, so she plucked it from its resting place and began to go through the pages. Unlike yesterday, the typography on the front was back to its usual coloration and resembled regular ink. It must have meant something, that the ink was glowing how it did, maybe it was a warning? Saria shook the thought from her mind, though, because how could a book know if danger was approaching? It was no cleric, no psychic… However it did have incredible magical properties to it. Maybe the magic of the book itself was enough to warn of some prospective dangers.
The answer would remain a mystery, at least for now, Saria thought while she flipped through new pages and worked on deciphering some of the information. Even if she could not access magic herself, she could still start going through the book and make herself familiar with everything within it as best she could until she could free herself of the wards. Saria was focused on reading now, and focused enough that she didn’t hear the sound of steps up to the door and the handle turn as Jack let himself back into the room. When she looked up, she was startled and closed the book immediately, dropping it back down the side of the bed so that it stuck between the bed and sideboard.. She began yammering instantly, hoping to stave off any questions regarding the details of what she was reading..
“Jack! I must thank you so much for your valiant deeds yesterday! You have quite possibly saved my life!” She leapt up and hugged him, “I am in your eternal debt, sir, you have already shown yourself to be a far more righteous man than I might have ever thought! If there is anything you need of me, please do not hesitate to ask!” Saria smiled, as she was truly thankful for his help yesterday, but also so worried about the book. Hopefully it would be forgotten, at least for now.

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Wed Jun 12, 2019 8:09 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

“Oi! Keep it down!” Jack put his quill aside and glared at the door of his room, as though it could silence the banging on the door down the hall. It was likely some drunkard that had the wrong room and would soon learn that he was mistaken and that would be the end of it. He began to write his notes again and the banging intensified. This time he stoppered his ink and carefully closed the small ledger so the ink would not smudge and then went to his door. By the time he had opened it, the door to Saria’s room was slammed open. “Oh for the love of the gods,” the ex-soldier growled and he turned back into his room to retrieve his saber. He dragged the heavy sword from its sheath and stalked into the hallway with a candle in his left hand and the sword in his right. Saria was screaming by the time he stepped into the pitch dark room, and the light of his candle surprised the attacker. The man looked up and Jack recognized one of the rangers he had known in passing while in Mamlak. The soldier sneered at Jack, still holding Saria down.

“You want second, or should you like her mouth instead?”

Jack took a menacing step forward and made sure his blade glinted in the candlelight. “Let her go. You’ve got silver enough to pay for it without taking it, mate. No sense in bringing the law down on us before we’ve at least gotten paid proper. She’s our bloody golden goose.” The man chuckled and hiked up Saria’s skirt higher.

“Aye, but you can’t tell me it don’t feel the best when you’re taking it either way. Paying just ain’t the same, not like it was back in Mamlak. Don’t preach to me, Jackie boy.”

Jack prodded him in the chest gently with the tip of the saber. “Be careful, mate. You’ll say something you won’t have the chance to take back if you keep talking like that.” The man laughed and turned back to Saria, ignoring Jack and his sword.

“Well, if you don’t want her, more for me. Just be a dear and close the door on the way out, yeah?”

Jack looked directly at Saria, seeing the fear in her eyes. “Close your eyes, lass,” he bent over and whispered until her eyes were squeezed shut. As he straightened up, he thrust his saber hard, up through the former ranger’s guts, higher into his chest, until the hilt was pressed hard against his stomach. “Go to whatever hell you’d like, you raping bastard,” Jack growled. He twisted the blade and the man gave a gurgling gasp as the light left his eyes. Jack yanked the blade out and wiped it clean on the man’s tunic. “You can open them now, lass,” he said softly as he cut the man’s purse and belt away. “And this is yours,” he said, tossing the purse onto the bed. “Now get your things. You’re staying in my room and there’s no argument. I promised to protect you, so that’s how it goes now. You don’t leave my sight.” He sheathed the sword and helped Saria with her possessions, carrying them into his room for her as much as she would let him.

“Put them wherever for tonight. We sail in the morning, after all. And the bed is yours; I’ll have the chair here.” He collapsed into the chair at the small writing desk and sighed heavily. “I know you’re not much of a drinker, but there’s wine in the pitcher on the sideboard. It’ll help you sleep.” He smiled at her a little. “I’m glad I got there when I did. You’re… you’re alright, right?”

Author: Saria, Posted: Mon Jun 10, 2019 8:31 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

Jack’s background story wasn’t as exciting as she’d thought it might be, she was almost disappointed, but she also figured he probably wasn’t telling her the whole story and there was likely a good bit of information left out. That was fine, she thought, it was probably just as well that she didn’t know everything. The boarded the vessel after a bit of bribing, and Jack had her wait on deck while he went somewhere to talk to whomever they were here to talk to. Jack motioned for her to stay back and wait for him to go speak to the ship’s captain ahead of time, supposedly so he ‘wouldn’t take advantage of’ Saria, and she wondered exactly what that was supposed to mean. She sat atop a barrel while she waited, for a few moments, before her stomach started to rock with the motion of the ship. She’d forgotten exactly how much she disliked sea travel, but as she held herself together she remembered all too well how poorly she had fared aboard Aelle’s ships. When Jack returned, with a rugged and weathered man following, there was finally good news. Saria wasn’t sure what a pirate city exactly was, but if that’s where the elf was, then that’s where they would go. The plan was thus set, and she set off back to the tavern with Jack. Upon their arrival, he greeted his group, and grabbed a plate and drink before starting off to his room. Saria did similarly, grabbing half a loaf of bread along with a pitcher of water to try and appease her still-turning stomach. She nodded to the men to signify her bidding them goodnight for the evening, and started up the stairs to her own room. It was nice to be away from people for a moment. Saria spent a few moments just sitting on the edge of her bed before she actually started to pick on the bread she’d brought up with her. It was unlikely she would eat more than one slice, she had gotten a little over-zealous when she had decided she needed an entire half-loaf. She laid back, exhaling deeply as she rested her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, apparently a moment was much longer than a moment, as her room was almost entirely dark. Instinctually, she went to use a fire spell to light the lamp from her side of the room, but only the wards around her wrist glowed as they blocked her magic from manifesting. She grumbled to herself about the ridiculous contraptions, while she got up to light the lamp manually. As she turned back, she caught a glimpse of the book peeking out of her satchel. The front inscription was glowing lightly, as it had only a few other times. Saria pursed her lips, confused as to what it might be glowing for. She removed it from the bag, and it grew brighter. She turned it over, inspecting it from every angle, while asking it, “What’s going on, then? Why are you doing this…?” Flipping through the pages showed no obvious reason as well, so, grimacing, she returned it to the satchel.  As she latched the front shut, a brutal rapping on her room’s door began. “Hello? I’m sorry this room is occupied currently, apologies!” Saria called to whomever was knocking, but the knocking became more of a shuffling and shaking of the entire door itself. “Excuse me, did you not hear me? This room is booked already…” She went to open the door, only to have it nearly knock her over as someone rushed into the room, knocking over and thereby extinguishing the lamp in the process and leaving the room much darker, so she couldn’t see who or what it was. The stranger grabbed her by the waist from behind, but Saria was already screaming as if someone were skinning her alive in the hopes of stirring someone to help. The stranger groped at her and started to lift her skirt, and in a last ditch effort Saria tried to dig her heel down onto his foot. It didn’t do much, and Saria felt every bone in her body screeching the word ‘No!’ as the stranger overcame her, forcing her body down onto the bed. Her heart-rate intensified as she screamed again, and in that second another figure burst through the door. If she could just barely fight off one drunken attacker, she would most likely not fare well against two. 

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Mon Jun 3, 2019 11:49 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

“Tell you something about me, you say?” Jack chuckled to himself as they navigated their way down to the docks. He was half tempted to tell her some tall tale of a life of adventure or some sort of sad tale of woe. Instead, he decided that it would be best to tell her what passed for the truth of his life, aside, of course, from the treason that he and his comrades were plotting against the Crown of Adeluna. He chewed on his lip trying to decide where to start the tale.

“Well, I warn you now, you did ask. I, as you can tell from my fine accent and lack of fleas, am not from these parts. I hail from the south, in Adeluna, though…” He cut himself off before launching into a tirade against the sitting queen, one that would be counter to his efforts to disguise the true reason he was humoring Saria’s quest. “Never you mind that. I’m from Adeluna, born and bred back these last ten generations. Times were tough back home, out with the Queen worrying too much about her family matters and not about her adopted people, so to speak. So I decided that starving was worse than the army, so I took the bounty and joined the Queens Ranger company, which was stationed over the mountains from here, among the Mamlak types.” He spat to the side of the road to show his contempt for the Mamlaks and the Queen that put Adelunans there to bleed for Mamlaks.

“The black buggers can’t fight a proper way at all, all bluster and shouting but no discipline worth a damn. So they needed us folks to show them proper soldiering, and, more often than that, do their soldiering for them. So when the damned bee things showed up, the horde of ‘em, the Mamlaks turned tail and ran and we were ordered by our officers, all in the Mamlak’s pay of course, to cover the retreat. We didn’t have the men to hold them all and retreat ourselves, see, so they expected us to die for those dark arsed cowards while they got behind their walls and hid.” He paused and stepped over a pile of vomit outside one of the taverns on the road to the docks.

“Me and my lads, the ones you seen with me, we had other ideas. When the lines broke, we cut our way out together, through ‘em, all the way back to the walls where the Mamlaks tried to bar the gates against us coming in. Killed about thirty of ‘em to make it into the city, but they had it coming. Our captain had the good sense not only to not execute us, but promoted us for the rest of the enlistment. But when it was up, we were done with the army and done with being cut up to protect lesser men, so we hiked it out over to here. Now we are looking for work while we figure out our next step. Most of us ain’t got much to head home to, so it’s now a question of whether home’s still worth living in, or if we make it our own way up here.” He scanned the ships in the harbor, looking for the ship his patron had described, with the carved coat of arms of Mad William on the main mast. Spying it at the end of the quay, he waved Saria forward. “There she is, Querin’s ship. Follow me lass.”

A quick conversation with one of the deck hands, along with a few silver crowns, got them both onto the ship. Jack pointed to a barrel on the deck near the captain’s quarters. “Stay here,” he said, “and I’ll go talk to Querin first, man to man, and all that. Don’t want him taking advantage of you, after all.” Smiling convincingly, he took his leave and ducked into the captain’s quarters.

“Who are you, then?” An old, stern looking man with a military bearing peered up from a chart with a look of annoyance.

“I’ve come from the Beacon,” Jack said, the code phrase he had been given, and he placed the carved lion on the map. The other man’s expression changed quickly, growing warm and welcoming for another loyalist to the old regime. He clasped Jack’s hand over the map.

“Welcome then, brother. Rangers, were you? Still have the look, and the cloak. Me, I stole this ship from the harbor with a crew who did not want to see the darkening of the throne, sailed out with others of a mind the day we heard the news. Do a bit of this and that to keep ourselves busy, but mostly we are supplying a growing number of men such as ourselves. This,” he tapped the figure, “will surely help to that end.” Jack could not discern how but he trusted the old sailor instantly. “So who’s the bit of trim you came aboard with?”

“She’s just paying for protection while she’s looking for an elf woman, with more crowns than she knows what to do with. Mage or something, name starts with an R. Just tell us she’s wherever your next port of call will be and we, her, me, and some other brothers in arms, would like passage with you. Leave us wherever you dock and continue to do what the Beacon requires.” The men nodded and shook hands again before both emerging onto the deck.

“Master Querin has heard of your elf mage, lass. He said to me, she’s down… where again, Master Querin?”

“The Pirate City, Vilpamolan, a day or two’s sailing south of here. I have berths on my ship here, if you are looking to follow her fast, and we can even bring your horses. Twelve crowns six men and horses, and you being free, miss, and we’ll provide safe passage and three meals while you’re among our company. I’d hurry though. I heard she’s there now, so we sail at first light if you’re willing?” The deal thus struck, Querin returned to his cabin and hid the small figurine in his personal chest while Jack and Saria returned to the tavern where they had rooms for the evening.

The rest of the men, in varying degrees of sobriety, were sitting down to a meal and Jack brought Saria over to join them. “Lads, we leave tomorrow from the docks. Those that want to bring their horses may, or we can sell the beasts and buy others further south. It’s to each man’s conscience. We’ve got to be at Querin’s ship on the wharf by first light, so let’s not drink ourselves into a stupor, eh Roddy?” The swarthier Adelunan laughed and waved a hand at the accusation while he belched up a bellyful of beer. “As I said, first light on the docks, Querin’s ship. Me, I’ll be turning in now,” he continued, filling a plate with food for himself and grabbing a bottle of Adelunan wine from the half dozen scattered around the table. “Saria, your room is at the head of the stairs, so you will only have to share one wall with us savage types, though it will, sadly, be mine. Be warned, I can snore like a hog.” Laughing, he pulled the loose cork from the bottle with his teeth and spat it back onto the table. “Until the morning, gentlemen,” he shouted, took a long drink from the bottle, and headed up the stairs to eat in private while he made notes of his meeting with Querin. Lord William had wanted notes and Jack was smart enough to know that they could be a blessing or a curse, depending how things turned out, so he would have a second copy of his own. It never hurt, he thought, to be careful.

Author: Saria, Posted: Mon Jun 3, 2019 11:06 AM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

Saria recovered slowly from the staring eyes after her outburst, leering deeply into the drink that Jack filled back up to the brim. Her stomach revolted again at the idea of having to consume all of the ghastly beverage. He joked about the work to be done, and insinuated that RIxxan would kill them all tomorrow as Saria grimaced at the thought. Having seen the bit of effortless destructive talents the woman had, it would be probably less effort than snapping her fingers for Rixxan to fry them all to a crisp with her dark power. Images of the possible outcomes of a run-in with this woman danced through Saria’s mind as the rest of the group went on talking about some sort of political something. Eventually the thought of a charred crispy death got the better of her, and she excused herself from the table quietly and almost without notice, hoping to get a good night’s sleep and shed the thoughts from her mind. Back in her room, she lay in the bed for what seemed like hours, still haunted by the likely impending doom. Was seeking this woman out a good idea, after all? She grappled with the weight of her potentially costly decision. Was the freedom to practice and learn about this magic she had just been introduced to… really worth it? She spent the night fighting with herself before finally coming to terms with the two options: the woman was either truly evil and would kill them all, or she was just a chaotic evil that would be swayed by coin. In the end, Saria would either die confronting her or not; that was the fate she accepted at the cost of being able to remove these wards. Even if she couldn’t study the magic she wanted to, for whatever reason, she would not be able to live her entire life with a pair of shackles, as if she were some sort of miscreant.
Sleepless and a disheveled mess, Saria met the men in the morning to pack up and get moving. It took her an absurd amount of time and a request for help from one of the men to get her outlandishly heavy suitcase loaded up, and she mostly kept to herself for the ride. They were able to get to Dunholm in an impressively quick time, she heard them say at least, given that she had no concept of time and what distances were. Jack procured a block of rooms at a more distinguished tavern, and the group dispersed on separate errands to seek out information. Saria, instead, dragged her things into a room and collapsed on the bed for a few moments of rest, before her cause stirred her to wake and set out for her own small side mission.
Saria wandered into the more dangerous side streets of the town with a few coins held tightly in her hand. She was seeking a person whom she could get information from regarding procuring a concealed, specific type of weapon. In a very dirty alley between two heavily-boarded up buildings, she saw a group of what presumably were beggars, or homeless people, or maybe even people disguising themselves as beggars? She approached them and one of the men walked toward her, and she pressed a coin into his hand while she slyly (or as slyly as possible for her) inquired on where she could find such an armament as she desired. The man returned to the group for a moment and they all huddled together, looking back at her every few seconds while murmuring. He returned, and implied that they may know of such a place if there were more in it for them, so Saria procured two more coins, trying her best to be strong. “Half now, half after you tell me,” she responded, and the man looked back. The group nodded, and he gave her directions to a cafe that operated a not-so-official business of unsavory weapons dealing. She thanked them and paid them their dues, then headed off.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the men she was working with, but… she didn’t trust them. She had managed to get the specific thing she wanted from that ‘private business,’ a lever-activated knife, loaded with a spring to automatically force and lock the blade straight out. It was assembled in a way where it was to sit under the sleeve of one’s shirt or dress, on the inside of the forearm, and be nearly undetectable. Saria figured with something like this, if somebody tried anything funny, she could easily inure them enough to escape their clutches. Additionally, the shackles on her wrists were already always messing with her sleeves, so if somebody thought to have seen something, he would most likely look again and see the cause was obviously the shackles, and not a hidden weapon under her sleeve. She fussed with it as she made her way back to the tavern where they were housed for the night, and upon entering was immediately addressed by ack, asking what she’d found out.
“Nothing I could find out, I have to be honest… There weren’t too many people willing to talk, of those who did, none of them wanted to tell me anything for free…” Saria wasn’t lying, most people wouldn’t divulge the kind of information they were after without a price, she simply withheld the fact that there was no asking about the elf. She sat down next to him, as he seemed to have a plan to question someone on a ship regarding the elf. There was a little bit of hope, after all. Food was served soon, but Saria was too anxious to eat, and sat while anxiously strumming the tabletop with her fingertips while the men all reveled about treason or some such nonsense that she didn’t bother to concern herself with. As soon as the lot had seemed to have their fill, Saria began pushing Jack for them to head out to the port and talk to whomever he thought would have information for them.
While they ventured out to the port, Saria found herself feeling a little awkward and unsure of what to talk about. She didn’t really know this Jack fellow at all, didn’t know where he was from or what his history was, if he had a family or if he worked for someone or was he actually the leader of this group or really anything at all… but since they had a bit of a walk ahead of them, she thought maybe now she could ask.
“So, I know that I very quickly told you my story of finding this elf but maybe you could tell me something about yourself? Where are you all from, for example? Have you always been in this line of work, or did you do something else for a while? I’m sorry to pry, I’m just curious is all and thought maybe knowing more about you and your friends would help me feel a little more comfortable around you all.” Saria hoped she wasn’t crossing a line, if there was a line, or if she would even get a response more than some stoic vague statement about privacy and a man being a cold steely fortress of secrets, or something ridiculous she could imagine Jack saying.

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Sun May 12, 2019 9:13 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

“So the strange elf demon woman has a strange name. What a bleeding surprise,” groused Jack. “Well, I know it won’t make you smile, but I haven’t heard of the bitch, not the name, not the sort. Bloody foreigner, magical, fucking elf…” He tailed off and took a long drink. “But she’s like as not to be down the road, so once we’ve finished here for the evening, scurry yourself up to bed and I’ll have us started on the road to Ri-whateverhernameis tomorrow, lass, mark my words.” He laughed harder as she blushed and shrank back on herself. He refilled her cup even though she did not seem to have enjoyed the brew, and pushed it back into her hands. “Drink up little one. We have a lot to do tomorrow but tonight, now we enjoy life before the elf bitch kills us all tomorrow.” Chuckling, he left her to her drink, turning back to the rest of the men with him to talk a little treason into the wee hours of the morning. He was only distracted from that conversation when he heard her push her chair away to return to her room which gave him a chance to watch her from behind in her new charcoal dress as she went up the stairs to her room. It was, he decided as he returned to his drinking, a view he most definitely liked and one that he hoped to know better and soon.

In the morning, Saria had looked the worse for wear and Jack was jealous of whatever young buck had gotten her so thoroughly disheveled. The men laughed about it all the way through their midday meal and, with some hard riding, they were able to slip into Dunholm before the gates were barred for the night. Near the docks, they were able to rent three rooms at a larger, more reputable tavern that was known to cater to men from the South rather than the local sorts. This, Jack decided, was the best way to get what information he could for Saria while still working toward his own ends. There was no reason that that woman was sitting on a throne that belonged properly to a proper Adelunan lord and there was no way that he and his men would go back there, to their home, without some way to remedy that grave injustice. So while he sent Saria out to ask about the elf, pleading exhaustion, Jack found himself at another chamber door in their tavern. He rapped hard on the frame and a voice, a refreshingly Southen voice, shouted for him to enter.

William was the spitting image of the last king of Adeluna, the mad one, folks had said, but it was a far sight better to have a madman of your own making than a lunatic savage from Mamlak that had no more right to sit there than did Jack himself. “Lord,” the former soldier said with deep respect, and knelt at the heavy, well dressed man’s feet. “We’ve heard that you were here, Lord, in your exile from the south, from our home. We were hoping, me and some others who served in the Queen’s rangers in Mamlak, that we could be of service to the man who deserves the throne of our homeland by right.” \

William smiled, showing a mouth of even teeth, and touched Jack’s shoulder. “Rise, comrade. You and I have much to discuss.” He waved Jack over to a well appointed table and poured, with his own hand, a very fine Adelunan vintage into silver chased cups for the both of them. “Now Jack, you know that if we do this, if you serve me, her Royal Darkness will see it as treason and you may lose your head. I do not mean to threaten you, only to explain to you that there is a risk in making the choice to do what is right, to support my rightful claim.”


“Aye, Lord. But the choice is no one I can make any other way. The lands are yours far more than they are hers and I trust that you will reward the men who will fight to bring them under your control.” William nodded his head politely and fished out a leather pouch of gold crowns from an inner pocket of his cloak. He pushed it wordlessly across the table to Kerr.

“This is how a true king rewards the men that serve him,” he said softly, and as Jack took the gold, William, Lord of the Beacon, uncle of William the Mad, and pretender to the throne of Adeluna began to explain his plot. Jack listened with rapt attention, committing details to memory so there would be no record of this meeting that could cost him his head, and asking questions to ensure that he was going to do as his new lord commanded. Within the hour, Jack left the room, promising to call on the master of a ship preparing to head south to Adeluna and then over the seas to Parvpora and hand him the carved lion figurine that William had pressed into his hands as he stepped out the door. When Jack descended the stairs into the main room, he caught sight of Saria returning from her trip through the Highland port. “So, little Miss, what did you hear, what did you see?” he sat down at a table near the fire and waved for ale to be brought over for them both. “I could see last night you were not fond of the brew in that last inn, but I can assure you, this is better quality, for northern piss. It’s nearly impossible to get a proper tun of wine up here without it going off, so I’ve learned to develop a taste for this myself. I think, with a little practice, you could too.” He took a long drink from his jar. “And as for your elf, I was told there’s a ship in the harbor, master with a name of Querin, who has heard of her himself. Could be that you and me, we go pay him a visit, after we eat, of course. No sense interrogating a man on an empty stomach.”

Author: Saria, Posted: Sun May 12, 2019 4:42 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

 There was a quick negotiation–mainly due to Saria having no concept of money–and she agreed to the prices set by the rather crude leader of the group, and set out on her own from the tavern to ‘gather her things,’ which to her right now meant buying new things for this journey as she had only the book and purse in tow. She needed to get at least a few things to wear during this trip, and dispose of the garments she had come into town with to avoid recognition. Obviously she wasn’t some magician or evil elf who could change their appearance and shape without cause, so she would have to maybe just style her hair differently or find some way to make herself look a bit different from how she did as a thrall to Aelle.
After wandering around lost for a little while and bumping into enough people that she eventually asked for advice and directions to find what she was looking for, she happened to find a boutique shop that would likely suit her needs. An entry bell chimed as she opened the door and within a second, an odd old lump of a woman was at her side, much to Saria’s surprise, and took Saria’s arm in both hands, raising it up like a rail. “Forget clothing, dear, what you need is a proper meal!” The woman dangled Saria’s arm, as if that would somehow make more body mass grow onto her. Caught off guard and unaware, Saria shifted to take a step away but the elderly woman’s grip was like that of the shackles she was eyeing. After a moment, Saria managed to yank her arm away, and the woman started again, “Right, right you are, mustn’t lose that petite feminine figure the men all leer over!” Saria strained to keep her mouth from gaping and her eyes in their sockets as the woman tugged her along, ripping dresses from where they hung and piling them onto Saria. Soon enough she was nearly buried under a mountain of clothes and having her own ragged garments ripped from her to have these new ones tried on. As much of a nuisance as the quirky old woman was, it would be good to get rid of all the things she’d brought with her and get new things.
By the time Saria left the store, she was pretty sure she had just been picked up by a silk/cotton/satin/linen tornado and dropped out on the street lugging a heavy leather bag, which probably qualified more as a suitcase than a bag given its weight and dimensions. She considered paying someone extra to simply to be a bag-holder as she dragged the bulky thing through the dirt. Thankfully it was a dry week and the bag was only dragging through dirt, and not mud. She got to the tavern and heaved the bag through the door as she was greeted by the same man she’d met with… What was his name again? She couldn’t remember as she struggled to breathe through the fog of dizziness and fatigue in her brain as he directed her to pick up a room key and go freshen up, as there was supposedly a room reserved especially for her for the night. He had practically thrown her up the flight of stairs, she assumed because she had taken a bit longer than expected and was running behind some schedule unbeknownst to her. Saria steadied herself at the top of the stairs and took a few breaths, while a gruff tavern keeper lingered by a doorway. Through gasps for air, she feigned a polite smile, but was met with a low “harumph” as the man handed her a key and pushed by her. She would have frowned and said something in retort had it not been for the lingering adrenaline fueling her through this entire journey, so she fixed herself and tossed her hair back, reassuring her nervous mind that this was going to be fine. She would pay these people to help her, and they were clearly an unsavory sort who might know better ways of finding people than she might ever know in her whole life, and then she would find the elf and get the wards off and go on to find out all sorts of wonderful things about the mysterious book and magic in general.
Unlocking the door, Saria backed against it to try and pull the bag of things in, but somehow she was convinced it was growing heavier and heavier… or perhaps she was growing weaker and weaker. Possibly both, she also considered. After a couple of minutes, Saria gave up and kicked the bag into the room instead. The door slammed itself shut behind her and she collapsed onto the bed for a brief period of time to catch her breath, before she sat up to actually take a better look at this room. Something about it wasn’t quite right, but she wasn’t terribly sure what it was that was off. Either way, she could definitely use a bath after the several days she’d just spent wandering through the woods and trails to get there. The tavern keeper must have thought so as well, as the bath was already set up for her, which added to the previously noted oddness of the room. Who would preset a bath? Did she look that dirty? She was skeptical for a moment, but disrobed nonetheless and took to the task of cleaning herself up.
Afterward, she couldn’t help but think there was a weird feeling about the whole thing, but she couldn’t quite place it. She picked through the clothes she’d just acquired to find something to wear for dinner before deciding upon a charcoal dress with a simple, lace bodice, then threw her hair into a quick braid to keep her mane contained. When she met up with the group she was addressed by Jack, whose name she had finally remembered, who called for her to sit by him. Jack made a weird comment about her having taken a bath, which she wondered how he had known… unless he had maybe made the request for the tavern keeper to draw the bath already for her? That was very gracious of him, if he had, so she replied, "Oh, no it was really nice. The room is a bit odd, I think, but the bath was much needed, I'd been traveling so long…" She pulled her braid forward and fussed with her dress as she sat and listened to the rest of what he said. He mentioned a possible need for more money as the trip could get expensive, but she had already planned for that and it wasn’t an issue.
“Oh not a problem, I had already assumed that there might be added expenses and I’m prepared to handle whatever the proposed amount is… But do you know exactly what we’re going to be doing on this journey? I was just wondering… Have you contacts in the lesser-reputed areas where the elf might be, or have you heard of her by any chance? I know I know her name… I just can’t remember it… But I’m sure I’ll think of it.” Saria listened to Jack’s response while she picked at some vegetables, hardly. He seemed to have a bit of a plan but she felt like part of it was missing, if only she could remember the name of the elf, maybe someone knew who she was…Either way, Jack finished his response and thrust a drink into her empty hand, and Saria stared down into the cup before he coerced her into drinking the horrible bitter drink, which was actually Saria’s first ever drink in her life. Her expression devolved as she nearly gagged, but forced the drink down nonetheless. She had to stop herself from making a wretched face as she recovered from the horrible experience, wondering how and why anyone would ever choose to drink such a thing… Saria sat staring at the cup, cursing herself for having touched it, as the men feasted and drank more disgusting liquor. Her stomach revolted at the thought, and she continued to push around the vegetables on her plate while they talked about menial things. At one point something rolled off the table by the more intoxicated of the group, and she rolled her eyes as she was so disgusted with the thought of drinking. As she did, something about her predicament must have connected the dots in her mind, as her boredom with their drinking must have aligned with the elf woman’s boredom with her all those months ago, and she suddenly had a crystal clear recollection of the meeting between her and Aelle. Saria jumped up for a moment, and nearly knocked herself down in the process (had the drink really affected her that greatly?)
“I remember her name! The elf! Her name is Rixxan!” Saria exclaimed, excited about this monumental accomplishment of remembering a person’s name… The men all stared at her as she did, and she realized she may have made a scene. Her face reddened and she sank down to her seat again as everyone continued staring at her, for just a few moments before they started some whispering and murmuring. The dramatic whispers continued for a minute or two until one of the men returned with a new round of drinks, one of which was thrust into Saria’s hand. She grimaced and exhaled loudly as she braced herself again for the awful drink, before looking over to Jack to see what he thought about her revelation. Did he and the men know who the elf was, or were they simply whispering that Saria was a bumbling idiot?

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Sun May 5, 2019 10:44 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

“You’d be surprised what the sort of person that would want to have folks killed. And hells, there ain’t a prince or lord alive that hasn’t had folk do some good killing to line his pockets or worse. That’s just how the world spins, see, and they’re the most proper looking ones of all.” He took a long drink and tried to smile at her in his least menacing way. “So, do go on, miss.”

Her story rambled and it took every ounce of self-restraint that he had to keep from yawning and rolling his eyes as it dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. The best he could figure, she was captured during one of the raids that defined life for much of the human population of the Highlands, was held captive with some sort of warded shackles by an evil elf woman, and now she wanted to find that woman so that the things could be removed. He looked down at his drink and wondered if the barman had changed the recipe so much that he was already well and truly drunk after a drink or two. That was the only thing that could explain how this woman’s story hung together. Highland raiders, magical shackles, evil elves? That was the stuff of legends or the start to a very bad tavern joke. She could not truly be serious. But, he thought while he chewed on the corner of his lip, there was a way this lunatic girl might be able to help him without her knowing it, if she had as much coin as she boasted. And if she was just mad as a moon hare, her money would spend just as well as anyone else’s and that was enough for Kerr.

“Alright lass, you’re right. You sound like you’ve gone clear mental when you’re there talking about evil elves and magic bracelets or what have you, but you’re in luck. I haven’t got a damned thing to do for the next week at least, me and the lads, so we can go with you at least as far as Dunholm. It’s a proper city, that is, as proper as they get up here, so if your lassie the elf stuck around these parts, she’d go there. Plus the Highland folk have the good sense not to trust any outsiders, especially fucking elves or what have you, yeah? So if she rocked up that way, she’s definitely got herself noticed.” He smiled, this time genuinely, and extended his hand to her. “So we’ll bring you that way, beat the bushes some, see what we can’t find out. All you’ve got to do is pay us fair. Ten a day, a man, plus expenses and the like. We’ve even got Jock over there, he can write out a proper receipt for you, make it all official like. So, we’re square?”

It seemed that she was either unused to having the sort of money she claimed or was as mad as she seemed, but she agreed to his price that was nearly extortionate. Either way, she gave him an advance to get horses and supplies for his small group of soldiers turned mercenaries, and left the tavern to gather her things, promising to return that evening. Grinning like a cat, he tossed the small bag of coins into the middle of the table. It was nearly a month’s wages for each of them, as they already had their horses and equipment stabled in the tavern. Instead, Jack started to explain what he’d agreed to with the lads. At first they were as skeptical as he had been, but when he explained the true purpose of taking the job, they grinned as widely as he had. “So, you see lads, it ain’t about fucking about with the lass after magical elves and bracelets. We guide her where we need to go ourselves, milk her dry, and when we’re out on the road, we can see about finding more like minded refugees from Her Majesty’s realms, start something to take our damned country back. Might even find some soft pate of a distant cousin of old William we could dust off and take the bloody crown with us as his loyal retainers being granted lands and titles, eh? Certainly beats another tour with the black buggers doing all the proper soldiering for ‘em. We agreed lads?”

“Oh aye, a pretty little thing that drops silver like raindrops. If she put out, we’ll have us the perfect woman!” They all laughed and pocketed their share of the coins before returning to drinking. They would have sore heads and sick stomachs in the morning but they were playing nursemaid to a slip of a girl and that they could do even if they were still drunk. Jack stayed there with them until Saria returned to the tavern but he drank a little less than the rest, hoping to keep his head.

“We have got you a place here for the evening,” he said, pointing to the stairs. “Third door down the hall. The taverner has the key and once you’re settled, his wife is serving dinner down here. If you miss it, it’s cold cheese and bread for you, so make it quick. When you get back here, we have a plan we’ve put together for your particular situation and wanted to see what you thought.” Without giving her time to protest or question him, he pushed her halfway up the stairs and waited for her to go to the room. He had paid the taverner for that room specifically, one that he usually rented out to whores, so that he could double his money. The room had a false wall, one that made it smaller than the other rooms, just enough for a man or two to watch the goings on through small, concealed holes in the walls. Jack had paid the taverner not just for her room, and the warm, scented bath that waited there for her, but for the use of the concealed room as well, and when Saria took her bath, he got his money’s worth for sure through the holes. The taverner had even had the forethought to move the bath to where the bed usually sat so that Jack could enjoy the best of views.

He adjusted himself and cleaned up as best he could and left the small room just as she began to get dressed. By the time she came down for supper, Jack was back among the lads, all well drunk, sitting at a table with a seat reserved for her. “Sit, Saria, sit. You look refreshed after that bath,” he said with a smirk and poured her wine. “The lads and I were thinking, if we are in Dunholm, there’s a good chance she won’t have stayed there for long, but we’ll know where she’s going. That may mean this sort of trip’ll drag on a bit, see? So I was wondering, how long you’d want to have us under contract, right? Could get expensive after a while, so if we had to stay on, we’d need some sort of compensation, a promise of it, yeah? I could have Jock write ‘er up once we decide. So, what say you, Saria? Let’s break bread and do some bloody business!” The taverner’s wife bustled from the kitchens with a tray with a roast partridge and a leg of lamb, beans, carrots, and fresh baked bread and butter and put it down between them and Jack dug in with the healthy appetite he had worked up upstairs, waiting to see how Saria took his amended proposal. Even if she refused, she’d already paid them well and they could just rob her in Dunholm for the rest of it. No matter what happened, they got paid.

Author: Saria, Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2019 7:48 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

Saria bit her lip as the man who might be the leader of this bunch made a sort of mocking comment. In her opinion, she had done a wonderful job of staying strong and was very confident in her delivery, but apparently her idea of that was far from the reality of the situation–her blabbering on and on like a frightened newborn lamb facing down a pack of wolves. After a few moments of being mocked, and her face grew red with embarrassment, the supposed-leader led her to a table. He pushed a cup toward her but she was not one for that drinking life, and was busy mentally with calming herself down from the previous situation. When the man implied a plethora of horrifyingly incestual and sexual situations, she was almost outraged, "Oh my gosh, that's just awful! No I don't need anything like that, that's just… that's horrible! Do I look like the kind of girl who would wish murder upon their family for something so… petty!?" She looked at the man almost flabbergasted for a moment before she re-composed herself with a deep sigh, realizing those requests were probably quite common…  

"Right, well, it is a bit of a long story," Saria started, sitting up very rigidly and puffing herself up as if it would make her seem less nervous, "I grew up in this small village a long while from here, and one day I happened upon some very strange foreign book that I was trying to… decipher… when our village was pillaged and overrun by a group of terrible vandals. I was fortunate to have survived but was unfortunate in that I only survived as I was taken captive by the leader of this group of vicious men, if you would go so far as to call the kind of people who murder entire villages of innocent people, simply for fun, for sport, men… But anyway, I'm rambling… One day this man needed to keep me…" Saria almost included the part about learning to do some magic, but something in her better judgement told her this may still not be the best place to do so, based on previous encounters with the men of the North and how they reacted so poorly to magic or anything foreign in general, "…more obedient, I suppose would be a good way to describe it… and so he had someone contact dealers and purveyors of magical and crafty artifacts trying to find something that could do such a thing without inflicting any pain upon me, as he had hoped to keep himself in my good favors so as he might eventually win my heart over one day, but there was not terribly much he could find in our local area. That was until one day, there was a woman who appeared in his lands, and she was quite a tremendous presence. Not in stature, but in the truly evil aura that seemed to be emanating from her. She was a smaller elf, very fair-skinned with blonde hair nearly as bright as a sun, and she had these outstanding eyes that were a glowing green… she was dressed in all black and she could even become one with the shadows, it was quite an incredible thing to behold. Her magic was nothing less than terrifying, as well. But more than anything, this woman was interested in coin. The man had paid her a considerable amount and she gave him these shackles," she rolled up the sleeves on the dingy cloak she wore, revealing the magic wards the bound her from practicing her magic, "and she claimed that would make me… incapable of doing any wrong or going against his word…"  

She knew her story sounded a bit crazy at this point, so she procured what she thought would be a decent amount to start off negotiations and thrust it onto the table, though in reality she had no knowledge of money or what things were worth, and the amount she'd put up was in fact close to ten times that which a group might need for supplies, "Please, I know it's a bit far-fetched but I need to find this woman and pay her to remove the shackles so I can live, I want to be freed from this entrapment and I have more than enough coin to pay for your services and any supplies needed!" 

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Fri Apr 19, 2019 11:03 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

Jack looked up when he heard a woman’s voice in the bar room. The sort of women that frequented this place came nearly exclusively in the evening to trade their bodies for coin so one in the afternoon was a surprise. He was no opposed to returning to his chamber, though, so he looked to the bar to see a young girl, woman, he couldn’t fully decide which from this angle, trying to get a drink. The taproom was full of soldiers, sailors, and other hard drinking, hard working men looking for a pint and a meal before they had to return to whatever employed them the rest of the day. The Adelunans had the dubious honor of not having to leave after midday to work and could continue to drink through the day.

While the young girl still tried to get herself noticed, Jack brought the empty pitcher back to the taverner who replaced it with a full one without Kerr having to say a word. He brought it back to the table and refilled their mugs, chuckling with the rest of them about the plight of the young girl lost at the bar. Part of him, an almost vestigial sense of honor, made him want to help her but that would be far too much effort without any compensation, so instead, he contented himself with drinking and watching her grow more and more frustrated as the barman ignored her in favor of his regular customers. It was, the men admitted, a truly entertaining way to pass the time, mocking her among themselves.

That was until she showed up at their table, looing nervous and uncomfortable and talking like a lunatic. Jack blinked slowly, as though she were speaking some sort of foreign language that he did not understand, which, he considered, was close enough to the truth. A what? A quest? Did this look like some mystic king’s court to her? And did this handful oh half drunk… soldiers, he thought, considering their previous employment sounded better than “armed drunks,” look like a mystic king’s bannermen ready to slay dragons and ride across the sky on thunderclouds? But she was serious, truly earnest, and Jack busted out laughing, spilling some of his ale in the process. “Gods above, lass, what’s happened to you? Hit your head or something? A quest?!” jack bent over laughing again with the rest of the men but when he straightened up and wiped his eyes, he poured her some ale and motioned for her to sit at the next table. The rest of the men looked confused but he winked and mouthed “Something to pass the time, eh?”

Sitting down across from her, he put the second cup in front of her. “So, I’m sorry lass. Quest isn’t the sort of word we… expect. So what sort of help are you needing? Father won’t let you tumble the ploughboy so he needs his throat cut? Funny uncle, also throat cut? Robbing some dowager aunt so you can buy yourself a pretty dress? Come on, out with it!”

Author: Saria, Posted: Thu Apr 18, 2019 2:10 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

Escaping Aelle's land hadn't been too hard, considering the plague facing his people. Some sort of dysentery or something had stricken most of Aelle's crew, henchmen, and staff aside for a lucky few, and Saria just happened to be one of those few. Once the sickness had struck them, Saria had spent a few days actually tending for Aelle and his other men before she realized this might be her chance to escape. The one downside was that Aelle had left the magical wards on her before falling ill, and with him in such a sorry state there was no chance at getting him to remove them. As she planned her escape, she considered that she would have to quest for the elf responsible for selling the wards to Aelle, and somehow bribe her to remove them… Fortunately, that woman seemed evil enough to be bribed by money for just about anything and everything. 

All she had to do was wait until nightfall, when Aelle would chug an excessive amount of the supposed medicine he had gotten, and slip into a comatose-like sleep. The hardest part was prying Aelle's heavy arm off of her body while he slept, as somehow when he slept he gained what Saria assumed was at least an extra thousand pounds, based on the difficulty she had. After that it was easy, she broke the chest open where he kept her book of magic, stole a huge amount of coin from his not-so-secret storage vault, stole a dingy cloak and some food, and left through one of the servants' exits. By morning she would be miles away and Aelle wouldn't have any able-bodied men to send off after her. She would take care not to surface in any towns for a few days, and make sure to take only the rarely traveled back roads and trails to where she was going. The journey was not too long, she hoped. Her plan was simple, or at least she thought so. She would make her way to a port town with many travelers and find a person for hire, or group for hire, to help her track down the elf woman, and then pay the elf woman to remove the wards, and then she would seek out an expert in magic who would be able to teach her about the book, or maybe decipher it for her. It seemed simple, hopefully shouldn't take longer than a week or two.  

Once she was a little over a day without food, there were lights up and sounds of civilization echoing ahead and Saria was anxious for her real quest to start. It was around midday and the town seemed to be a bit busier than she had hoped, and she felt a surge of anxiety at the idea that someone could possibly be here looking for her, if Aelle had managed to send people after her… Alas, she had no time to wait for things to die down and made her way through the streets, looking for any sort of thing that might show her the way to a person or some people who would be able to help her. She had stopped one of the patrols and asked where she would go to hire a traveling guide, he'd directed her toward a bustling tavern informing her that there was an overflow of people in town lately due to some issues with ships, and implied it would be good for some of them to be gone from the area… She assumed it must be that they were making trouble and therefore making his job a bit more difficult, but nevertheless thanked him for the information and followed his directions to the suggested tavern. 

Approaching the bar, Saria swallowed her nervousness in an attempt to portray a very phony confidence. It took a while but she eventually managed to duck under some larger men's arms and elbows to find a gap where she might talk to the barkeep. She craned her neck to try and look around the place, but the man was paying her no mind. Eventually, he happened to walk by her end of the bar to pick up more pints and, mistakenly, raise an eyebrow to her, so she started…
 "Hello! I was wondering –by any chance– if you might know where I can find the group who posted that notice, the one on the board over there…" she finished as she turned to point over to the board, but when she turned back she realized the barkeeper had ignored her and walked back to the other end of the bar. It was clear to her that she was not exactly the desired clientele for this sort of establishment, but did that make her stolen coin worth any less? After a few more minutes of being ignored, she sighed and turned to observe the crowds within the establishment. Perhaps she would just approach people and ask them herself, despite her total discomfort doing so. Most of the tavern's guests were clearly congregated together with a few lone stragglers perched in their own places, so she theoretically she could just approach the groups and see if it was the group she was looking for… And hope they were also not a group sent by her previous captor to find her. 

Taking a deep breath, she approached a group of ruffians hollering about something she couldn't quite make out over the rest of the noise in the tavern, and nearly shouted to make sure she would get their attention, "Excuse me!" A couple members of the group raised their eyebrows in acknowledgement, and she motioned toward the door, "Is that your notice there, on the door? I'm in need of some help in embarking upon a quest… of sorts."  

Author: Jack Kerr, Posted: Wed Apr 10, 2019 9:05 PM, Post Subject: Waiting For Work (P,R)

It had been the bees that did it for him. He had been content until then, as content as he could be, among the savages of Mamlak. All balls and no brains, his captain had said, and his cousin Andy had agreed, until they got him killed. When the damned wasp creatures struck, no matter how the stories were spun now, the Mamlak army was a shambles. They were poorly led, poorly disciplined, and cowards when they weren't outnumbering the enemy, and even when they were, they would run if their chiefs fell in battle. All it took was a minor setback and the Mamlaks would fall back in disarray. So when the wasps struck and chiefs fell, the black bastards ran away and left the Queen's Ranger Company, one of the Adelunan companies sent by the Queen to support her family to the north, cut off and surrounded. They were able to cut a bloody swathe through the enemy and retreat in good order to the walls of the city but they paid a heavy price in lives. Jack had tried to protect his cousin when he fell wounded but in the confusion of the melee, he lost sight of him and by the time the battle was over, he could not even find the body. So, the week after, when the length of his term of service was ended, he and some other men from the Rangers left Mamlak in disgust. They had been underpaid, looked down on by the locals for being foreign, and sacrificed like lambs when the time came and even the promises of bounties and promotions had not been enough to convince the men to rejoin the company. And, tired of living among the Mamlaks, they had trekked across the Dhabu mountains and the valley beyond to the Highlands. There, the people looked as they did, spoke as they did, and traded often enough with Adeluna that they would be able to book their passages home.

While they waited for ships that could accommodate them, Jack and his compatriots used their back pay to rent a handful of rooms in the best tavern in the port city of Dun Lainne. There was nothing they could do at the moment but wait because the seas were rough and shipping crawled painfully up and down the coast to avoid squalls that could swallow a fleet whole and leave nothing but a few barrels and floating spars as a monument to their passing. So rather than spend the last of their pay for the room and board, Jack and the other men placed a notice in the town square, hammered onto the door of the customs house, offering their swords and services to local merchants and citizens who needed protection. It was mostly simple work, taking a fat merchant from one side of town to the other, but it kept them in coin and made sure they did not spend the last of their pay. They would need it to make their way back home until they could rejoin the home armies of Adeluna.

So, as the noticed posted on the door advertised, the handful of former rangers began to gather in the tavern’s taproom around midday. Jack, his head a little worst from the night before, took longer than usual to join them. When he woke, the sun was nearly at its peak so he chose not to bother shaving. Instead, he splashed water on his face and used it to slick back his dark hair. Without a mirror, he did it as best he could, and then pulled on his cleanest tunic, one of the military ones given to his former company, and strapped his sword belt around his waist with its dagger and heavy saber, and pushed open the door to the main taproom. Four other ex-soldiers were already at the bar and, raising his hand in greeting, he headed across the room toward them. They were already drinking and pushed a mug of strong Highland ale into his hand. He drained most of it and laughed as one of them, Paolo, one of his cousin’s closest comrades, finished a particularly bawdy joke about a Mamlak woman and an Adelunan soldier.

“Well lads,” Kerr said, raising the end of his cup in a salute, “as I keep saying, at least we aren’t living among those cowardly black bastards anymore! Back among our own sort and gods willing, about to head home where the women are pretty, the wine flow free, and we can be proper soldier again.” The assembled men roared in approbation and drank heavily. Laughing, Kerr finished his cup and pushed it back for more ale. “Have any of the fine folk of Dun Lainne come by looking for the swords of a few of the South’s finest yet? I could use some coin, maybe a short trip to stretch the legs. And has her Majesty sent the rest of the coin we are owed? Or is Her Royal Darkness frittering it away as usual? When we get back south, we should really see just how secure that throne is, eh? Get rid of her bloody ass and put a proper Adelunan, born there, raised there, back on the throne and get the damned Mamlaks back to their own shit country, eh?” The men nodded in agreement, dreaming of a day when they could make Adelunan back in the image of its former glories, but first they needed silver and a ship, and so they waited, drinking, for whatever custom would come their way that day.