The Merchant's Quarter

Subject: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Aug 21, 2012 9:22 pm

Ro'car strolled down a wide, busy road, twirling a knife in his hand. He flexed his free arm, newly recovered and ready for action. Spice traders cried their wares from the sides of the path, and pack of robed officials eyed Ro'car nervously as the two groups passed each other on opposite sides of the road. He was clearly aware that he didn't belong. That said, the sort of places that he belonged in wouldn't produce much helpful advice on how to kill a man that can set a doorway ablaze by glaring at it.

He pondered, I suppose I could sneak into his bedchamber at night and slit his throat. Then again, I tried it once and failed. No, he will die in a matched fight. I will leave no doubt that I am the stronger man.

Ro'car heard a rustling of fabric behind him, and noticed a pair of men, fully covered by gray, hooded cloaks. This struck him as odd, considering that it was a warm, sunny afternoon. He kept walking, but he quickly noticed two more men with the same outfit a distance down the road, walking towards him.

The fact that they have a uniform means they're either part of a particularly proud organization, or just a particularly stupid one.

One of the men who had been approaching him, who Ro'car could now see wore a cloak and doublet bordered with gold unlike the man beside him, stopped a few yards away. The other men followed suit, effectively surrounding Ro'car.

The man with the gold cloak coughed, before drawing a scroll from his sleeve. "Ro'car Jholo, you are wanted by our client for seditious knowledge and the possible possession of a dangerous artifact. We have been assigned to apprehend you for further questioning. Do you yeild?"

By the time the proclamation was finished, Ro'car's fist was inches from the mercenary's face. When the man looked up from his parchment, expecting a response, instead he got a broken nose. He sprawled to the ground. Ro'car drew an axe in his right hand, and a throwing knife in his left, and turned to face his next combatant. The mercenary in front of him and to his right took a step back in shock, before drawing a longsword adorned with amber in the pommel and brass wire wrapped around its handle.

"You dare resist the Golden Justicars? You will taste my steel, wretch," the man cursed.

"Golden Justicars?", Ro'car mocked, "You sound more like a band of minstrels than mercenaries! Very well, let's see how well you dance."

The mercenary grasped his blade in both hands and cut sideways with all his strength. Ro'car stepped out of his way, before leaping foreward and pounding the man in the head with the handle of his knife. It wasn't enough to knock him out, but he kneeled on the ground with a hand on his ear, his head ringing. Ro'car heard a yell, and turned just in time to catch another mercenary's sword with the head of his axe. He shoved the blade to his right, and kicked his leg upward. Unfortunately, the mercenary knew exactly where the attack was targeted. He took a step back to dodge the attack.

By then, the street was nearly empty, save for the few bystanders that had taken a while to see the fight. Ro'car tried to read the man he was facing down, but the mercenary had somehow managed to fight without lifting his hood away from his face. Ro'car tensed, and his opponent lifted his sword to block the oncoming attack. However, the mercenary had not expected Ro'car to throw his knife. The blade whirled through the air, punching through layers of cloth and cutting the man's stomach. He doubled over in pain. Only one man was left.

This one is different. His cloak...it's not just gray, it's ash. And his clothes...red and black? Family colors?

Before Ro'car could finish his thought, a stream of flames erupted from the man's outstretched palm. Ro'car rolled out of the way. He drew another knife, and flicked it towards the aggressor. The mage casually waved his free hand, and the knife deflected away, embedding itself in the ground. The flames swept towards Ro'car a second time. Ro'car charged the man, barely managing to get in range before he was burned. He swung his axe sideways at the mage, who raised his hand again to deflect. Just as his weapon was about to be knocked away, Ro'car feinted under the man's hand and cut upward. The mage fell backward in a spray of blood.

Ro'car jumped to the ground, grabbing the man by the shoulders. "Who sent you?"

"Those idiots...reading a scroll like they're the town guard coming to arrest you. I would have brought the Shadow's men if they would have blended in any better than a dragon in a crowd of dwarves." the man replied, before coughing a spray of blood off to his side.

"Who is the Shadow?" Ro'car shouted impatiently.

The mage stared at him for a few moments, deep in thought. "Hmm...you wish to know who the Shadow is? Perhaps you should meet him...IN PERSON!"

His hands crackled with magic, and as he brought them togeather, a translucent blue sphere began to envelop both of them. Ro'car jumped backwards. There was a blinding flash of light, and he raised his arm to shield his eyes. When the light faded, the man was gone.

Was he trying to kill me? No, if that spell was fatal, it would have left a trace of his body. Wouldn't it? Ash, or bones, or....something.... It's as if he just vanished.

Ro'car hastily grabbed his knives, and left the scene before any guards could show up and ask inconvenient questions.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sun Oct 07, 2012 12:20 pm

Merthissa, whistling a nameless tune that he could barely remember, finally entered Tharlacolf three days after he had left the boy at the border. Gavin... or whatever his name was. Him and that wolf of us that were both stubborn and stupid, not to mention probably mentally unstable into the bargain. Idiots, the pair of them. He couldn't believe that he had wasted valuable time trying to get the idiot to see sense. Alright, amendment. He could believe it... Desperate times called for desperate measures, or so it was said. Personally, he felt that it would be more accurate to say that people were just prone to idiocy when they were desperate.

Adriele, the tiny screech owl that perched on the wizard's shoulder, blinked open enormous eyes. She had been making a vain attempt at sleep, and for a time the steady motion of Merthissa's gait lulled her nearly to sleep, but her mind stubbornly refused to give into the darkness. In the end, she resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. The horrible thing about "belonging" to a human was that her internal clock was completely destroyed. She woke in the mornings and then went hunting, before returning to her master to sleep for the rest of the night. As a result, her eyes had had to become used to bright sunlight and nights that seemed all the darker because of it. She hooted quietly, displeased.

The wizard heard Adriele's soft hoot, but he paid her no heed. The screech owl was always discontent when awake in the middle of the day like this, but there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Oh, he could probably send her into an enchanted sleep, but he didn't like to cast spells on her. That, and he might need Adriele and he wanted her to be ready and alert for action.

He had hardly gone a few hundred feet before he heard the screaming. Merthissa stopped whistling and his footsteps slowed to a halt. Straightening up, he strained his eyes, but the sun was facing him and his aged eyes couldn't see quite as far as he would have liked them to.

"Adriele," he said, eyes still fixed ahead of him. The streets were largely deserted, an odd thing for this time of day. Where was everyone? Why were they gone? Had something happened while he was away?

Adriele's head swiveled to look at Merthissa, whose face was concealed by the dark gray hood he wore. Yes, master? she asked. Even before she had communicated to him, she knew what it was that he would want.

"Go scout on up ahead," he said quietly, gnarled hands clenching his staff so tightly that his knuckles burned white. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing. "Someone's bit off a bit more than they could chew." He said that with absolute certainty. The screaming had stopped, and a heavy silence hung in the air... Odd for a city of its size.

The screech owl said no more, just unfurled her wings and swept off. Screech owls looked fearsome by nighttime, but in daylight they were actually rather cute. However, they were nocturnal creatures like other owls and the site of a screech owl flying through the streets of Tharlacolf caused more than a few raised eyebrows and shouts of surprise. Adriele knew how the people were responding to her presence, but she cared little. There was something very odd going on in the city. Swiftly she flew, and it was not long before she saw the corpses.

She folded her wings and went into a dive, landing gracefully beside one of the dead men. Both wore gray cloaks, but one was clearly of higher rank than the other and clutched a bloody scroll. Both bodies had sustained mortal wounds, likely caused by a knife or an ax. Adriele wasn't good with weapons, but she could identify what kind of weapon caused what kind of wound. Blood saturated the ground around them, staining the dusty cobblestones black. Black dust flew into her eyes and Adriele blinked, trying to clear her vision. She hopped around to see where it was coming from and saw, to her surprise, a bloodstained pile of ash just a few feet away from where the bodies lay. Had there been a third man? Had the man who attacked them been a mage?

Two dead, possibly three, Adriele relayed to Merthissa, who she sensed was moving again towards her. They appear to be mercenaries. I'm going to fly on ahead. Not waiting for an answer, the little owl launched herself into the air once more. Gosh, how she loved flying. Ahead of her, she saw a man walking quickly away with a nervous and hasty gait. Interesting... She flew faster, passing him by. However, instead of continuing to fly, she turned around, swooping own to land in front of him. She hooted quietly.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sun Oct 07, 2012 1:46 pm

Ro'car had been distracted to the point where he didn't even notice a screech owl tailing him in broad daylight. He was still trying to puzzle out who would go through the time and effort of hiring not only mercenaries, but an extremely deadly and experienced mage to come after him. He did, however, notice the bird as it wheeled around and landed directly in his path.

An owl in the city, and it decides to land right in front of me? Perhaps it's rabid...

Ro'car drew an axe from his belt, and tried to wave Adriele away. "Shoo, owl. I have no time for this."

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sun Oct 07, 2012 3:31 pm

Adriele hooted, fluffing up her feathers defensively when the man drew his axe. The man was tall and lean, with dark eyes that matched his black hair. His hands were callused, telling her that he knew how to handle weapons and was probably accomplished at hand-to-hand fighting. She was about seven inches tall, he didn't need to take out an axe to try to scare her off - it wasn't necessary for such a small bird. He must be wary at the best of times, telling her that he must have enemies. Recently dried blood clung to the axe...

Found the man that killed the three, Adriele informed Merthissa. Sitting in front of him now. He's armed.

Keep him there. Merthissa's mental voice seemed loud in her head when he communicated to her. He must be close by, but her enormous eyes were fixed on the man, not what was behind him.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sun Oct 07, 2012 9:04 pm

The owl refused to move. Ro'car weighed his options.

I do nothave time for this. If the city guard finds me anywhere near those men, I'll be dragged into prison. I'll have to...

"Stop! You there!" announced a voice behind Ro'car.

Ro'car froze in place. I am a stranger to this city, standing alone in an alley, waving around a bloody axe. If this guard lets me go, I will have lost faith in humanity.

He attempted to sheathe the axe discreetly, and turned to face the guard. "Friend, have you noticed the strange behavior of animals in the city? First I see a fox walking the streets in broad daylight, and now this owl has decided to land in front of me. Is there some sort of disease being spread by the wildlife in these parts?"

The guard spat on the ground. He responded, "And I assume that's how you got all your weapons dirty. Butchering foxes in the city."

Ro'car knew he was out of options. He drew his whip, and lashed it at the guard. The tip hit the guard's wrist as he attempted to draw his sword. The guard growled in pain, but was unable to react to the whip's second strike as it coiled around his ankle. Ro'car jerked the whip backward, sending the guard tumbling to the guard. The guard attempted to call for help, but Ro'car quickly gagged him with his own belt. Using a few pieces of spare rope, Ro'car tied up the guard.

As soon as the fight was over and the guard was immobilized, Ro'car took off, carefully skirting around Adrielle. Always having to run away...

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Oct 09, 2012 4:24 pm

Adriele fluttered up to a faded wooden sign to perch when the guard walked up to the man. He was a burly fellow with an enormous mustache, and likely had an ego to match. Humans, she'd never understand them. The scuffle that followed between the man and the guard was quick, but though the guard had the right intentions the other eventually bested him. Adriele had seen enough.

Same one that killed the two farther back, she communicated. Avoid the alley, he's an expert with weaponry and your sight isn't what it once was.

Merthissa sounded annoyed when he replied, but not angry. You have so much faith in me, the wizard complained. Where'd the fool go? You have any idea why in the name of Heaven and Earth the other two challenged him?

If Adriele could roll her eyes, she would have done so. He's powerful, yes, but no one just head someone off because they posses certain skills. He looked nervous, though. Whatever tangle he's involved in, I'm not sure that he even knows about it himself yet.

Merthissa took a few moments to take this information in. He continued walking, leaning heavily on his staff. The aged wizard passed a group of men in their early thirties clustered close together with their backs to him. All were armed and garbed in travel-stained garments, and looked extremely shifty. Something was up, but he didn't stop to pay them any particular attention. Whatever was going on he would have to figure out later while there weren't bodies in the street. Alright, were are you? he demanded, looking around.

Adriele spread her wings and swooped into the sky. It took her all but ten seconds to find Merthissa and alight upon his shoulder once more. Watch out for yourself, she thought at him. He got a good look at me and there aren't too many people here walking around with screech owls.

Merthissa nodded, eyes roaming around the people that were beginning to move back onto the streets. It was easiest to hide among others, he knew, but where could the little devil be?

ooc: If the computer shuts down again while I'm posting, I'm going to scream. Evil or Very Mad

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Oct 09, 2012 5:14 pm

Ro'car hurried on, finding his way down twisting alleys and shady side roads. Ro'car was certainly a stranger to this city, but every one he had ever bothered visiting had a hole where no guard dared to visit. Or, at least if they were alone. His trick was to find the narrowest path, the dirtiest side of a plaza, and follow the signs of decay from there. The decently dressed citizens still gave him a second glance, but the ragged commoners didn't bother to look up from the cobblestones in the first place.

After a few minutes of searching, he passed by a freestanding building with a crude shape of wood nailed next to the door. Ro'car could only assume that it was meant to resemble a tankard. He opened the door to the inn, and passed through. Most of the patrons didn't even notice him, but the bouncer, burly, shirtless, and bald, focused on this newcomer. Ro'car moved towards the counter, and ordered a drink from the wizened bartender.

"Whaddaya want?" he asked gruffly.

"Your vilest ale," Ro'car replied, "not that you would have anything else to give me, even if I asked."

Ro'car's drink was slammed down in front of him in a clay tankard. He stared into the cloudy liquid, thinking over his situation.

I can only hope that the city guard's threshold for searching this place is somewhere beyond two bodies, a pile of ashes, and a bound and gagged guard

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Oct 09, 2012 6:38 pm

Merthissa growled a verbal comment to Adriele that the owl missed, due to fact that she just wasn't paying attention. Bright sunlight made her sleepy, and now that she was no longer flying staying awake seemed to be little short of pointless. Noticing that he was losing her, Merthissa gave up attempting to question her further. He could do with a drink, and if there was anyone that could give him information, that would be Prek, who managed a tavern a few blocks away. All news eventually made it to his ears, and while most of it was inconsequential, there was always something worth hearing there. As it had been two weeks at the least, he could do with being brought up on the happenings.

Adriele fell asleep again just as Merthissa entered the tavern. It was a good thing too, for the smoke stung her eyes and she hated the crude atmosphere in the place.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you here," Todd greeted Merthissa without preamble as soon as the door closed behind him.

"Save it, Todd. I was in Caligo," Merthissa snapped, pushing past Prek's younger and duller brother without so much as a hello. "Prek here?"

Normally, Todd probably would have pummeled someone for speaking to him like that, but Merthissa wasn't like most people. You didn't pummel wizards. Instead, he nodded and jerked his head in the direction of the bar. "As usual."

Merthissa nodded and moved disdainfully through the throng. He felt extremely short in comparison, but he went relatively unnoticed for the most part. Most of the people here knew each other, though they never would admit it out of the pub. Prek was a almost a decade older than his brother Todd, and his years clearly showed. However, he had been tough in his youth and he was still tough. A steely glint lit his cold gray eyes and his face was set in a hard line. He and Merthissa had known each other for years, but the only thing that showed that they were more than bartender and customer was the way they addressed each other.

"The usual?" Prek asked coldly, pretending to be busy polishing a dirty glass with a filthy rag.

"Only if you don't serve it in that," Merthissa scoffed. "I'd charm it and save you the trouble, but you haven't earned it yet."

Prek snorted. "Someday, I'm going to have Todd throw you out of here and I'll laugh when he accidentally breaks your neck."

"Oh yeah? And then who'll keep the goblins from the cellar during the winter?" the wizard demanded irritably.

Biting back a scathing retort, Prek turned his back and returned a moment later with a clay tankard containing similar contents to Ro'car's drink. He slammed it in front of him so hard that it was a wonder that it didn't shatter. Merthissa slipped him a few coins and the bartender whisked them under the counter without glancing at them.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Oct 09, 2012 7:18 pm

Ro'car looked up from his drink, spying an old man a few feet down the warped, gray pine countertop. He might have returned to his drink, if something hadn't seemed so off about him.

He doesn't seem like the other locals. Anger has worn away at his face a little, but not the bitter sort that men his age would come here to drown out. He almost seems like he has....purpose to him.

Ro'car didn't hear Merthissa's comment about charming the dirty glass over the slurred ramblings of two grey-bearded drunkards to his other side. However, he did notice Merthissa's staff. The well-polished rod gleamed with swirling carvings and runes, and was leaning against the bar between Merthissa and Ro'car.

If nothing else, the man has a knack for woodcarving.

However, Ro'car wasn't exactly feeling in an elegant mood. Something about hiding in a dive bar from common guardsmen while on a futile quest to kill a man that could burn him alive in the blink of an eye removed any desire for subtlety. Instead, after he had quaffed a few mugs of surprisingly strong ale, Ro'car shouted over to Merthissa, "Hey, old man, what are you doing in a place like this? Not that I'm one to talk, but you seem a bit lost."

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Oct 09, 2012 8:19 pm

If Adriele had been awake, she would have instantly identified Ro'car. However, she was asleep on Merthissa's opposite shoulder, effectively hidden from his view for the moment.

Merthissa heard someone talking, and quickly connected the dots and turned the face the person whom he assumed was speaking to him, as he called him "old man". He gritted his teeth angrily; no one called him that. Ever. Rule number one. The unfortunate speaker was approaching thirty with very short black hair and an unflattering stubble. He had a sharply angular face with prominent cheekbones, likely due to poor nutrition more than anything else. He was lean, but didn't look like anyone to mess with. He took a swig of his drink, and set about to responding to the young man.

"Rule one," the wizard said with a hard edge to his voice that suggested irritation as he raised one bony finger. "If you call me "old man" again I will personally see to it that Todd never lets you back into this place." He raised a second finger, never taking his eyes off the young man's. "Second, you're new here. I wouldn't be so quick to assume, if I were you." He have him a hard look. "Especially with two dead bodies lying in the street."

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Tue Oct 09, 2012 8:54 pm

Ro'car sobered instantly at the sound Merthissa's last warning.

How the hell did he track me? I must have checked behind myself at least a dozen times! He couldn't have...hmm...he was awfully vague. Perhaps he means to imply that he was the cause? Yes, that would be how anyone would see his words if they hadn't killed the men themselves...

Ro'car organized this thoughts and maintained the cocky swagger he had been projecting before he was caught off-guard. He laughed, pretending to interpret Merthissa's comment as an idle threat. "And am I to assume that you beat two people to death with your staff for insulting your age? You don't seem to be lying about the corpses, though. Perhaps you would be willing to tell the real story?"

Ro'car did his best to appear relaxed on his stool, slightly intoxicated, but inwardly he tensed for what would happen next. He thought, If he grumbles for a while and goes back to his drink, all is well. If he says anything about going quietly, I won't hesitate to knock him to the floor.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Wed Oct 10, 2012 7:10 am

The lapse of composure was very brief, and if the wizard had been anyone else he might have missed it. As it was, he was skilled in reading people and he knew what expressions, silence, words, and body language meant. For a second only, the man lost his cocky demeanor before firing it back up again with a laugh. But it was forced, and didn't seem to belong to him. He had touched upon something important... but what?

Merthissa sneered, and when he spoke next it was with contempt. "By the time Adriele arrived at the scene, they had been dead for at least five minutes. Nay, lad. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't go around accusin' anyone." As he spoke, he shifted on his stool to face Ro'car, and his left hand moved to casually grip his staff just in case. When he moved, the sudden movement dislodged the screech owl perched on his shoulder, as she had nothing to grip on but rough gray cloth, and she tumbled onto the counter with a hoot of surprise in a ball of feathers.

Prek looked up from the glass that was steadily getting dirtier and dirtier from the rag he was using the clean it and smirked. "Control your animal, Merthissa," he drawled. "Else I'll have to have her thrown out. Screeches are ill omens at the best of times."

Adriele looked affronted as she picked herself up, head swiveling around so as to get her bearings. She didn't notice that Merthissa was speaking to the man she had seen earlier in her dazed state, and hopped over to where Merthissa's right had rested on the counter and perched on his wrist. Well, it was better than nothing.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Wed Oct 10, 2012 3:17 pm

Ro'car had lost all interest in the ale in front of him, instead his attention was focused on Merthissa as he described the scene of the crime. He felt a wave of relief, but didn't let it show.

The man knows less than I do. Hopefully I can keep it that way.

Then, suddenly, a flutter of brown and gray fell off of Merthissa's shoulder, knocking dully onto the countertop. When the bird managed to right itself and gripped onto her master's wrist, Ro'car felt a spark of recognition.

Could it be...the same bird that landed in front of me in that alley? If it is tamed, that would explain the strange behavior. But how and why did it find me?

To Ro'car, a man who had only just learned the deadly potential of magic a few weeks prior, the concept of an intelligent owl that could talk to its master was quite far beyond the scope of his imagination. He was once again suspicious of Merthissa, but had absolutely no evidence in his mind to prove that the wizard and his owl had been searching for him.

Ro'car turned on his seat, once again facing the bartender. He quickly swallowed the rest of his current drink and shouted for another. As Prek swiped away his tankard, Ro'car attempted to continue conversation with Merthissa, although he doubted that he would get a useful response.

"It is not often that a man tames an owl and keeps it as a companion. Does yours know any tricks?", Ro'car asked.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Wed Oct 10, 2012 3:36 pm

OOC: Permission to reset Loren Strykar and his Hunters here? His original thread died...He's willing to do some investigating...

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Wed Oct 10, 2012 4:39 pm

(OOC: permission granted)

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Fri Oct 12, 2012 1:09 pm

Loren Strykar, Captain of the famed elven elite, The Hunters, entered Tharlacoff and slipped silently into the closest inn. He had six elven warriors with him. Each an expert in their chosen weapons and each excellent trackers. They were named the Hunters not for simply martial skill, but for the keeness of sight and mind as well. Little escaped their attention, will they tended to escape attention themselves. Bit then, seven tall, woody-smelling elves is somewhat hard to conceal in a human city.

"Bartender, we'd like a round of ale's. Seven will do." The blonde haired captain's blues eyes were steady and strong. He wanted no trouble. His hand slipped into his sleek Elven cloak and withdrew several gold pieces and he lay them down. "Will that pay for the drinks?" At his side was a young elf named Julienne Fontsworth. She stood silently at his side, but her eyes were moving, scanning, gathering as much information about the immediate surroundings as possible. Her slender hand rested on her hip, her figure, while reasonably hidden, was still clearly beautiful for by any being's standards. Her youthful figure drew glances but, more than that, nothing, as of yet happened.

She was a girl, of course, and men, especially human men, seemed to have an unfortunate tendency to test young women's patience.

"Captain? This establishment is rather appears to be a haven for unscrup..." Loren raised a hand cutting off her response. Her voice was soft, but tinged with the clipped manner of a professional solider.

"Julienne, we cant talk back at the table. Help me gather the drinks, Lieutenant, and then I would hear your report." His stead voice held the same clipped military manner. "The drinks, bartender, if you would please." His voice was slightly more firm and slightly louder this time around. Humans always seemed wary of elves...even if they didn't realize it was elves they were addressing.

Julienne had spotted A rough looking human several tables away. He was talking to the bartender...still.

She walked over to Ro'car and the bartender. "Excuse me, Sir, " Her voice slightly patronizing, as she could tell Ro'car was anything but, and turned to the bartender. "Our drinks? We ARE paying customers... and I can assure you our coin is as good as any." She was already disliking this human city...

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sat Oct 13, 2012 9:05 pm

Prek sneered at the woman. She was very fine looking, that was for certain, but he took an instant dislike to her. He found her tone far too similar to those Elves who had taken to ordering him around in his previous life. He was no Elf, but a man who's mind was full of cunning and dark thoughts. On the social ladder, the ancient races were always the former, but that didn't mean that their treatment of him didn't aggravate the hell out of him. He found the lass obnoxious, and had half a mind to throw the dirty glass at her. Instead, he slammed it down and tossed the rag behind him.

"Clean that, will you?" he drawled at Merthissa in a bored tone, turning his back on Julienne without a word to her.

The wizard snorted. "I take orders from no man," he retorted at Prek's back. Nevertheless, he raised his staff just enough to tap the glass. A bright blue spark issued from the tip, landing on the rim. It winked out after a moment, and nothing seemed to happen. However, it let off a thin white glow, but one that couldn't bee seen by looking directly at it. If he looked at the glass out of the corner of his eye, he could only just see the light. After a moment, the glass seemed to absorb the light and he pushed it away from him. "I do do favors, however," the wizard said. The glass was sparkling clean. If Adriele could have rolled her eyes, she would have done so.

Prek returned from filling up the tankards, banging them sharply on the counter. Some of the amber liquid sloshed out of a few, but the rough clay did not break. "'Ere ya go, sweet'art," he leered. "Better watch your tone, lassie. Not everyone 'ere is as forgivin' as I." Merthissa rolled his eyes at this, but Prek paid him no mind.

"What? You? Forgivin'? That's not the impression that I got when you-" A slightly intoxicated youth who was sitting a few stools down from the Hunters, Merthissa, and Ro'car began to speak. Prek had just about had it with him today, and wasted no time in cuffing him around the side of the head. "Now shut it, Brishen, or I'll tell your mother that you were here," Prek said icily.

Brishen cast him a dark look and went back to his drink. He couldn't be older than sixteen, and if Prek was threatening him with telling his mother about his activities, it could be assumed that his father had died to leave his widow dependent on the son. From the way he didn't reply, it was pretty clear that he wasn't a very strong personality and had the guilt of knowing that he was spending coin here that he really couldn't afford to waste.

ooc: Just tell the person that you were RPing with that you're leaving and edit your post to have the Hunters exit the thread... And - welcome!

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sun Oct 14, 2012 4:28 pm

Ro'car raised an eyebrow at the troupe of elves that had entered the shabby tavern. Their uniforms were simple and designed for durability, but the finely-tailored tunics and cloaks still gave off an aura of elven elegance.

So these elves are the uppity sort, Ro'car thought as they harassed the bartender for drinks like a lord harasses their servant, Tiring, but infinitely preferable to the sort that hide in the woods and fill you with arrows for the crime of snapping a twig.

Ro'car was reflecting on his last dealings with an elf clan and a wind legacy named Tempest when Julienne strode over, nearly shoving Ro'car out if his seat and demanding drinks once more. Ro'car responded to her "greeting" by saying, "I must admit, my lady, I am no Knight, but I am no stranger to chivalry. If I may, I would gladly pay for your drink,". Ro'car doubted that the elf would accept, but the gesture was something of an old habit. She was certainly beautiful, but Julienne already seemed convinced that he was some cockroach in need of a heel.

Ro'car was distracted from those thoughts by a soft glow in the corner of his eye. It was almost as if one of the patrons had suddenly noticed the dim light of the tavern and had decided to light a candle in an attempt to remedy the situation. He turned in Merthissa's direction in time to see the bartender pick up a pristine glass in front of Merthissa. After examining the glass, Prek said, "Cleaner than the day it was made. Always knew there was good use fer yer spells. Well, besides the goblins, that is."

The mention of spells piqued Rocar's interest. So he's a wizard of some sort? Perhaps he knows how to deal with someone who summons flames.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Mon Oct 15, 2012 4:13 pm

Almost immediately Julienne had half-drawn a hidden dagger from her cloak, he entire body tensed like a compressed spring. MAGIC! The single word hissed through her mind. Magic was what nearly killed her King a few years back, had it not been for the heroic actions of a boy named Justinian Ravenclaw and his master, Erin Wolf, the entire city of Wrendell would've burned.

But then she relaxed. The wizard wasn't being confrontational. Now, the OTHER fellow... She looked at Ro'car, "Yes, well, you are quite gracious, but I must turn down your generous offer. My Captain..er," she'd slipped up and mentally cursed herself, "My friend wont allow that sort of...gesture at the moment...But..perhaps some other time?" The Elf gave him a bright smile, and then turned to gather up the drinks. She strode off, her steps measured and careful. She reached the table of Hunters and set down the drinks, but it appeared as though she'd forgot one of them on the counter near Ro'car and Merthissa.

The seven Hunters sat around the table. Captain Loren Strykar (solid and quick thinking leader), First Lieutenant Julienne Fontsworth (young, highly trained in martial arts), Sergeant Rydge Graymar (strong and dutiful soldier), Specialist Eric Stroyfield (master tracker/scout), Specialist Dareyll Firthmore (Assassin/linguist) and finally, the two new additions, Privates Kyle Vinderstaff (trainee) and Penelope Ryder (trainee)

"Look, we've been at it for a week, Captain, and still nothing...what if we can't find him?" Eric questioned his superior carefully. He was a master tracker and yet, not a sign, not hide nor hair of Erin Wolf could be found...

"I know, I know...But we can't give up. We have our orders." The captain replied quietly, for these were matters for his elves ears and not for civilians. Now, it wasn't a matter of the Crown, so it wasn't necessarily a secret...but still...

Kyle Vinderstaff and Penelope were still learning the ropes, but had proved themselves enough to be selected for the elite unit and they wanted to be a part of whatever they could. They were also childhood friends..."Look here, if we could only find someone who's met this Erin fellow recently, wouldn't that be enough for us to work off of?" Penelope nodded in agreement, her auburn hair bouncing.

"Kyle's right, Sir. We could retrace the informant's steps and then try tracking this Erin Wolf guy. Eric, Dareyll," She looked from one to the other, "You've done that before, haven't you? Some guy named Jerik Taldon? Only this Erin fellow got the guy first...or so they say..."

The tracker and assassin looked at one another. They weren't exactly the talkative types, so they simply nodded to her.

Julienne rolled her eyes. "Have your drinks, all of you. Goddess knows it took me long enough to get them from the bartender." She laughed and handed out the drinks and found them to be short one drink... "Goddess...I guess I'll run back and see if i can't get myself a drink now." She'd pushed hers to the Captain, who'd not gotten an ale, and began to head back towards the remaining mug that rested on the counter.

Meanwhile the Hunters continued to debate their next course of action.

"I just think that if we keep looking..." Kyle began, only to be cut off by Eric.

"Look where? Under that thick hair of yours perhaps? Because I've looked...I've BEEN looking...all you seem to look at is your lady friend." Eric gestured at Penelope, who reacted by blushing as Eric flushed with a combination of indignation and embarrassment.

"SOLDIERS." Loren growled a low warning to his team. "If I hear one more childish comment from any one of you...you'll be sleeping in the woods, not the inn, and will be polishing weapons for then next few days as well as carrying the the rations for the next thirty klicks...is that understood?" His blue eyes met every one of his soldiers and each took a breath, met his eyes and nodded once in a military fashion. They knew their place and they knew an order when they heard one. The captain blinked and leaned back into his chair, taking another sip of his ale. "Good. Now, where'd the Lieutenant get to?" He glanced around the room searching for Julienne and her missing drink. He spied her approaching Ro'car and slightly raised an eyebrow before closing his eyes and listening in on the conversations of the patrons around him. You never could be too careful or too aware of your immediate surroundings...

Julienne was halfway to the bar, and her mug, by then.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Wed Oct 17, 2012 7:15 am

Among the babble of the Elves' talk, a name was mentioned. Erin Wolf...

Merthissa heard the name, but he didn't recognize it until Adriele sat up sharply on his wrist, head swiveling towards him almost faster than thought. Erin Wolf! Master, remember him? The one who destroyed Endar who walks with fire for a shadow and steel in place of a heart. Wolf; we saw him but a season ago.

And now the wizard began to remember. Yes, they had seen the warrior last season. Erin Wolf was hard to mistake, and while few knew him by name, there were tales of his power and the deeds he had wrought. He had met him outside the city limits with a dire wolf of incredible size. Knowing of the man's power and ability, he had tried to convince him to kill the bearer of the amulet and bring it back. Wolf had refused, and Merthissa had grown angry. Barely escaping with his life, Wolf fled north and he had not seem him since.

He was generally not one to lend a hand, but maybe the Elves would get the amulet for him if he told them in at least which general direction to go looking for Wolf in. He turned around to face them on his stool, staff held loosely in one hand. "You're looking in the wrong realm," he addressed the Elf who seemed to be their leader. "He was here last season, but he fled north since then."

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Wed Oct 17, 2012 4:59 pm

The "leader of the elves", Captain Loren Strykar, turned to face the wizened wizard. "And who might you be?" The elf Captain was always weary...and he got a strange feeling from this human...and there was something strange about that owl...

Loren had been friends with Erin, back in the day when war had settled upon the City of Wrendell, and, with Erin Wolf's guidance and formidable skills, they were able to repulse the corrupted sorcerer Kypler Flammarus, but only just. The beautiful city was still rebuilding and recovering from the war...but as the smoke of battle cleared, the hidden hero of the battle, Erin Wolf, had disappeared without a trace.

Erin Wolf...the warrior would appear when the need of a people was great...when a threat of an other-worldy nature advanced upon those not as strong, and then, when the danger had subsided, he'd vanish like smoke in the wind. For a warrior whose fearsome reputation surrounded him everywhere he went, hardly anyone ever really met him, few know him by name, and fewer still had ever seen him. He was rather good at not being seen when he didn't want to be, and so, Erin Wolf was an ethereal enigma...there and gone...

"If you have helpful and legitimate information on Erin Wolf, we'd be grateful." His voice became a warning growl, "But if this is just another wild goose chase by some old man out to play games..." Stryker's tone left listeners imagining horrible things happening. "Elves are hardy folk...but even we have our limits when it comes to fools." His crisp military speech and firm voice reminded the team just why he was their leader. Strong and experienced, he'd come far from his beginnings, and he'd solidly established himself as one of the best officers in the Elven Army.

"Well?" Loren raised an eyebrow and gazed at the old man before him.

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Fri Oct 19, 2012 7:08 am

Merthissa leaned back and studied the Elf for a good few minutes before replying to his question. The Elf was tall, very tall compared to the other people in the dusty tavern, with white-blonde hair that fell slightly into face, casting it into shadow. Icy blue eyes sized him up, glinting with weariness. His body was wiry, but he had muscles like corded steel. Like all Elves, he carried a predatory grace about him, and the wizard didn't have to be told that it would be a bad idea to mess with the guy. Unfortunately, he loved playing with fire. The crisp voice cut through the muddled atmosphere like a knife, demanding to be listened too. The Elf was a natural leader.

Adriele spread her wings slightly and half flew, half hopped, up to Merthissa's shoulder, where she perched. Her enormous eyes studied the company before them critically, none escaping her sharp assessments.

After a full minute, Merthissa replied. "North," he said slowly. "The man left here about a season ago; I suggest you waste little more time here."

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sat Oct 20, 2012 11:04 pm

Ro'car looked up from his drink at the man and elf as they argued. Ro'car had encountered Erin Wolf some time before, and had even had Erin's howling wolf crest branded onto his chest by the man, but he had not yet connected the name to the face of the one who humiliated him in Lapidem.

A squad of elves coming to a human city just to search for one man? What did he do, slay a clan lord? Ro'car had also noticed the numerous weapons peeking out from under the elves' slender coats. From what he could see, they meant business, and we're determined to find their man one way or the other.

Ro'car leaned forward so as to push Loren away from the bar slightly and insert himself into the conversation. He gazed at Loren's harsh blue eyes and asked, not with fear but curiosity, "Friend, if I may be so forward as to ask, who is this man that you're so determined to find?"

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Mon Oct 22, 2012 1:19 pm

Loren regarded the newcomer with a wary look but answered, "Erin Wolf, Legacy of Fire. An enigma. Human, but only just. His endurance and physical strength is more than any normal human should have. He trained with weapons at an early age and is reputed to be at some rank above weapon's master...His skill with blade and bow are unprecedented, as is his nearly unstoppable fury. Rumors have it that he's the Goddess's Champion of Justice. Sent to cauterize the evil from the world. His life's dedicated to destroying the filth of the world. One criminal at a time. He travels with a five to six foot tall dire wolf...the creature's rumored to be as smart as any human and thrice as deadly. I have have watched Erin Wolf fight without fear and without feeling. He is a machine. He does not stop and does not give up. To stop him...you've got to kill him. And the Shadow King and a dozen other beings have been trying to do just that for over a decade..."

Loren rose. "I'm Loren Strykar. Captain of the Hunters. We are charged with tracking down Erin Wolf. By order of the Elven King Manteron. The warrior and his dire wolf have been...summoned...And we," the elf captain gesture to his team, "have been tasked to hunt down and retrieve Master Wolf and any companions he may be traveling with." Loren looked Ro'car int he eye. "Does that satisfy your curiosity, human?"

Subject: Re: The Merchant's Quarter Sat Nov 03, 2012 1:53 pm

In all my travels, I have seen but one creature that matches his description, and but one man accompanying it.

Ro'car planned his next moves, from casually asking if the one they were searching for could also summon flames. He assumed that the cold, unyielding elven captain would confirm this and ask how exactly Ro'car knew such things. Ro'car would then say he might be able to lead them to their target, and hopefully use the elves to find and kill Erin Wolf.

However, Ro'car had no time to follow through with his scheme. A slow, thunderous pounding emenated from the locked tavern door. The patrons grew silent, and the sound of splintering wood was heard. The bare-chested bouncer stood up from his stool, but not in time to react to the door bursting inward, broken off of its hinges. A dozen guards wearing leather, chain mail, half-helms, and overcoats emblazoned with the hammer of Tharlacolf rushed into the room.

One intruder rushed towards the bartender, who was serving a customer a ways away from Strykar, Merthissa, and Ro'car. He raised his sword, pointing its tip at Prek's throat, and shouted, "This hole'a yours is the only place a target like ours would hide. You see 'em? 'Es a tan savage, black hair, covered in leather with blood on his weapons? Don't ya dare try to hide him, the Duke will have this place burned to the ground if that's what it takes to find him."

Ro'car quickly sized up his options for escape. He was unsure why Duke of Tharlacolf himself was interested in the murder of a few mercenaries. Before he could stand up from his seat, one of the guards glanced in his direction. He turned away, before quickly looking back. The guard began to shove comrades and patrons out of his way, moving towards Ro'car.

Ro'car cursed under his breath. He lept off of his stool, knocking it to the ground. The guard began to draw his sword, but Ro'car already had an axe in his hand. He swung the dull side of the axe head downward, striking the guard's helmet with a dull ring. The guard staggered backwards, disorientated. A quick kick to the stomach, and the man was on the floor. Ro'car quickly made his way towards the exit.